A/N: Okay, so this is just a series of Faxy one-shots from the books in Fang's POV… am I the only one that wonders what goes on in his head?

Disclaimer: Don't own it.

Chapter One: Protective – SOF

I lay in bed, disinterestedly picking up a book Anne had lent me. Honestly, action books had nothing on my life. I could make a serious amount of money, selling my life. That wasn't a half bad idea; people should know about us.

I glanced up when I heard Iggy's voice, coming from across the hall. He was speaking to Max through the bathroom door.

"Max? Can I come in? I just have to brush my teeth." Oh, right. Teeth. I should brush those, too. Man, this human thing was a lot of work. I couldn't hear Max's answer, but it must have been negative because Iggy called irritably, "I'm blind." He paused, apparently listening, then snapped, "Very funny. Well, don't take forever. Primping's not going to do much for you, anyway." He returned down the hall.

Inwardly, I smirked. Max, primping? Yeah, right. She was coated in dirt and blood so often that she wore it like a favorite pair of jeans. Suddenly, an image of Max rose to my mind, unbidden. She was wearing an actually clean dress, and her hair was shining, looking alien without its characteristic tangles yet somehow natural at the same time. She was smiling beautifully, her eyes deep and inviting without the wall that usually separated her from the rest of the flock, and her lips…

The sound of the bathroom door across the hall brought me out of my trance. I blinked hurriedly, closing my jaw once I realized it had dropped open. I shook my head, trying to knock some sense back into it – in whose crack-driven mind could there even be a universe where Max would wear a dress? – and heard the sound of footsteps racing down the hall. Max. It sounded like… like she was running away from something.

That's ridiculous, I told myself. What is there to run away from here?

Still, I couldn't shake my inner feeling that something was very wrong. Something that had Max upset. Call it my Max feeling, but I usually knew what she was thinking of feeling. I was up on my feet before I even made a conscious decision to move. I had to help her.

Quietly, I eased out of my door and into the hall. If Max had run to her room, she obviously didn't want the others to know what had worried her. I hoped that didn't include me; I wanted to help her, too.

I stepped silently down the hall, all senses alert, ready at any moment's notice. I listened for any sign of danger. Nothing. I couldn't hear anything at all. Besides, or course, Gazzy's huge snores.

I continued to Max's room, knocking on the door. Hopefully she hadn't taken off outside by now.

I heard her voice through the door, but I hardly recognized it. I had never seen her let her emotions rule her so entirely, never heard her voice shake, never even seen her show fear. And here she was doing all three with just five simple words: "I'm out of the bathroom," she said, her voice unsteady.

Once I heard her, I put my shoulder to the door, intending to break it down and help Max fight whatever was scaring her. Then I hesitated. Maybe she wouldn't appreciate me barging in there. I adopted a teasing tone, hoping to put her at ease. "Yeah, I can tell, 'cause your voice is coming from in there." That was the way I would normally talk to her, right?

"What do you want?"

Hm. Not an easy question to answer. In regards to Max, anyway. But of course, in the way she meant it, I wanted to help. I had to talk to her face to face. "Can I come in?"

"No!" her shout came through.

If I didn't know her as well as I did, I might take that as rejection and return to my own room. But I did know her as well as I did, and that meant I heard the panic in her voice. I almost did wish I didn't know her as well as I did, because that small hint in her voice alone tore at my heart and made me in turn want to tear apart whatever was frightening her.

I swallowed my feeling of murder, opening the door slowly and poking my head around it, just in case she was – indecent. And she partly was; having just gotten out of the shower, her only garment was a towel. That was fine for a brother to see, right? I knocked my brain out of the path it was taking – for the second time in as many minutes. Max needed me right now.

She had fair skin naturally, but normally was a bit darker because of accumulated dirt. Right now, though, was the palest I had ever seen her. She was whiter than a braces-clad kid wearing tighty-whities and singing "Ridin' Dirty." Her eyes looked huge and dark in her scared face, and she was all closed in on herself. It was almost like I could physically see the wall she had erected between the two of us. A wall even more impenetrable than the one that was usually up around her. My Max sense tingled; she wasn't going to tell me what was bothering her, that much I knew. Oh, well. I could still let her know I was there for her, even if I didn't know what was wrong.

Max's hand went up to touch her face, as if reassuring herself it was still there. She glanced, almost involuntarily, down at her hands before returning her gaze to me. She faced me squarely, but almost looked a little – ashamed.

I raised an eyebrow, and came all the way in the room, quietly closing the door. I walked towards her slowly, like I might approach a wild, beautiful animal without startling it. "What's going on?" I asked as gently as I could. Such a change from how I usually spoke to her. Strangely, I liked this way almost better, this way of showing her that I cared, I would protect her.

Of course, it would only work with someone less dense than Max (which would kind of defeat the point as she was the only one I wanted to talk to like that). I don't think she even registered the change in my tone, much less the message I was trying to get across to her. Alright, the subliminal message. I wasn't brave enough to say it to her face.

"I don't know," she said, quieter than I'd ever heard her. "Something's wrong with me, but I don't know what."

I paused, to see if she would elaborate, or tell me to go away, or – or something. But no. She was staring motionless at a horror only she could see. I carefully lowered myself on to the bed next to her and gingerly put my arm around her shoulders. I tried to ignore how much I liked having it there, and fought the urge to stroke her still-damp hair. I gently pulled her into my side, and she was unresisting. Just – limp.

I tightened my arm around her. "You'll be okay," I said in my new gentle voice. If I knew anything about Max at all I knew that she always pulled it together for the flock. I felt a warm glow in my chest start when I realized that if it had been any other member of the flock in here, she wouldn't have opened up at all.

"How do you know?" she demanded, already sounding a little more like herself.

I almost smiled in relief. Almost. "Because I know everything, as I keep reminding you."

She didn't respond. Oops. Maybe she wasn't quite herself yet.

I continued to try and comfort her, though I had no way of knowing if I was succeeding. "Look, whatever this is, we'll deal with it. We always have before." I hoped she noticed how I put 'we' in there. Inwardly I sighed. Even if she did notice, she would probably just think I meant us and the flock.

"Fang – "

I snapped my attention back to my best friend.

" – if I'm changing, if I'm turning into something… bad – will you deal with it?"

I stayed quiet, seeking more information. I had no idea what she was talking about. Max was the best person I had ever met. Which, granted, wasn't that many, but I had a feeling that even if I searched I wouldn't be able to find anyone as unconditionally good as Max.

She took a breath, meeting my gaze. I was almost taken aback by the desperation in them. My heart thumped almost painfully, aware of how close our faces were even if I refused to think about if just now.

"If I turn into an Eraser," she said boldly, "will you deal with it? To protect the others?"

I just looked at her. She was serious, I marveled. Did she really not have that much faith in herself? Did she really doubt the extent of her goodness?

I thought about what she was asking me. Would I ever be able to kill Max? I answered myself: no. First of all, she would beat the crap out of me before I even got a first swing in. And second…no. I couldn't. Not ever. I tried to picture it. Pain flared out from where my heart was. No. I would kill myself before I could ever kill Max.

But she wasn't even asking me to kill her. She was asking me to kill an evil, twisted being that may somehow bear a little resemblance to her, as impossible as that may be. This time, when I tried to picture it, I saw myself triumphing because of the hatred I harbored towards the cheap, evil, imitation of the Max I loved. But soon after taking Max's life, I took my own.

What was I doing? This wasn't even worth thinking about, because Max would definitely never be an Eraser. If they tried to graft it into her, Max would fight off the poison somehow by the power of stubbornness. That was just the kind of person Max was. There wasn't anything large enough to compare her mental strength to.

I looked down for a moment to collect myself, then met her gaze, careful to not let any of my feelings show. "Yes. I'll do what has to be done." Which was true.

She gave a relieved sigh, and I was happy I had given her at least a little peace of mind. "Thank you," she whispered.

Whatever was convincing her she would become an Eraser, her worries were for the flock only. I wanted to say something meaningful so she would know she wasn't alone, but her face was morphing into her familiar Max-wall. Cue for me to go.

I stood up, unable to resist squeezing her shoulder as I did so. Immediately I missed the feeling of her thin body under my arm. "You'll be okay," I told her, trying to cover how empty my arm felt. She still looked a little worried, though, so on impulse I leaned down and kissed her forehead, letting my lips linger there maybe a little longer than was necessary. "I promise." I walked quickly towards the door and exited.

Once outside her room, I closed my eyes and allowed myself a small groan. That was so stupid. That's the last time I let my emotions get the better of me. Yeah, right, I scoffed, entering my own room and shutting the door. Max brought out more emotions in me that I thought it was even possible to feel. The plus side was that now my message to Max wasn't so subliminal.

I groaned again, much louder this time, falling back on the bed and throwing my arm across my eyes. Knowing Max, thick, oblivious Max, she would just take it as a natural brotherly gesture. Protective. Supportive. And I was those things, I was just other things, too.

Well, we're only fourteen, I consoled myself. Plenty of time to change her thoughts on me. Besides, it wasn't like she was going to meet any other boys her age at all between now and whenever I made my move.

A/N: I stretched like 300 words into like 2000… well, Fang overthinks everything. At least, that's my opinion on him. Review and tell me your thoughts! If you have any ideas for other scenes in the books that I should translate into Fang's POV, drop me a line.