A/N: Jammin' to Mr Brightside when it hits me…Omg. Best song for D/M/F triangle! I had to write this. Sorry, MEB is coming soon, I PROMISE. –hides-

It was night. Fang was in bed but he couldn't sleep. He was thinking about Max.

He'd first felt the attraction when he'd been - well, maybe ten. When they'd first escaped the School, and her body had healed, the bruises fading and the scars closing. It had taken a while, of course, but finally she'd gotten some fight back. And that's when it had started.

Comin' out of my cage
And I've been doing just fine

Until they'd left the E house, he'd been careful around her, masking his face and not letting anyone know his feelings. At first he'd been a little worried about Iggy trying to make a move, but as time passed and Iggy became more and more obvious about everything, he'd realized that Iggy was simply not interested in her.

And then they'd gotten together. Max had said the words he'd ached to hear - she felt the same way about him that he did about her. And everything had gone just swimmingly for a while. After all, all he wanted was her. How hard could it be?

Gotta gotta be down because I want it all

She'd kissed him on the beach after Ari had nearly killed him. At first he'd been so hopeful, his heart beating with anticipation whenever he saw her...and then there was that whole fiasco with Lissa and Sam and when he'd tried to kiss her later in the cave, he was sure he'd blown it. Maybe forever.

But that wasn't true. She kissed him again on the submarine, and this time he knew it for sure: he was completely hers, and would always be hers.

It started out with a kiss - how could it end up like this?
It was only a kiss! It was only a kiss!

She'd snared him, caught him in a net in her web. He wouldn't have fallen quite so hard if he'd had any doubts about her and that she'd stay with him forever.

If he'd known about Dylan, he wouldn't have fallen at all.

Now I'm falling asleep
And she's calling a cab

He'd let his guard down. He'd been so sure of himself and - and HER. Why had he been so stupid? Why had he given his heart so openly and unequivocally to anyone? He'd worked so hard to build up that mask. He shouldn't have let it crack so easily.

While he's having a smoke
And she's taking a drag

Fang didn't like Dylan. At all. He didn't like his unnatural good looks. He didn't like his weird and mysterious past - cloned from the body of a dead boy? Sounded like bullshit to Fang. And Dylan's explanation of how the other Dylan had died didn't sound right to Fang. It was sick, the way Dylan was affecting Max. Disgusting. He didn't like Dylan's influence on the girl he loved.

Now they're going to bed
And my stomach is sick

Closing his eyes, Fang visibly cringed at the images that flashed on his eyelids. What would happen if he let this little Dylan thing go too far? Would she fall into his net, just like Fang had fallen into hers? He didn't think he'd be able to bear it if she did. Sweat poured down his face; he threw off his covers and lay there in his boxers, breathing hard.

And it's all in my head
But she's touching his chest now

Memories flashed behind his eyes now. Every kiss, every touch with Max passed through his brain. But now instead of Fang it was Dylan there with Max. Dylan, running his fingers through her snarled hair. Dylan, raising her beautiful face to his. Dylan, pressing his lips against her own pink ones. Dylan, feeling her hands on his chest, her hot tongue in his mouth, her heartbeat thudding against his chest. Dylan, loving Max. Instead of him.

He takes off her dress now
Let me go!

What if he let this thing with Dylan get too far? Would Dylan…try things? Things that Fang had thought himself to gentle to try? Things that Fang had been to empathetic to try? Things that Fang's conscience wouldn't let him try? Things that Fang had been too…cowardly to try?

Behind his eyes, he saw Dylan and Max clearly, twined together. He gasped and forced his eyes open, but the images still haunted him, dancing in the air in front of him. He drew in a shuddering breath, sweat pouring down his entire body now. No! No! Stop! he wanted to yell.

And I just can't look; it's killing me
And taking control

Writhing on the mattress, he pressed his fingers to his eyes, squeezing them shut as he curled into a ball. His mouth opened wide in a silent scream as the figures taunted him, every movement, every step seared behind his eyes, into his brain forever. He gasped and shook on the mattress, his hair damp under his fingers.

Jealousy
Turning saints into the sea

Fang had to admit it; he was done pretending. He was jealous of Dylan. Stone cold jealous; swamp green jealous. Jealous of the way Dylan made Max feel. It had taken Fang four years to make a romantic impression on Max. It had taken Dylan, what, four hours? He gripped his skull and shook his head slowly, his breath rattling in his chest. This couldn't go on. It had to stop.

Swimming through sick lullabies
Choking on your alibis

Fang hated Dylan.

Hated him.

Before, Fang had been so sure of himself. Sure that he'd caught Max up in his arms in such a way that she'd never want to leave. Sure that he'd proved himself. Sure that she loved him. Sure that he could be himself around her. Now he wasn't sure. Was that thing he'd said funny? Was it lame? jerky? overprotective? mean?...Did it in any way sway her more towards Dylan, instead of Fang?

But it's just the price I pay
Destiny is calling me

Maybe that's what he got. Maybe he was getting what he deserved for always being there for her. Maybe she knew him too well. Maybe she wanted a change of scenery…Maybe that's what he deserved for all those times he'd thought of branching out on his own, though he'd never actually followed through with it. Maybe that's what he got for all those times they'd disagreed over something trivial, for all the times they'd fought, for pulling the flock apart, for not always being there for her.

Open up my eager eyes…
'Cause I'm Mr Brightside.

Fang suddenly had to laugh. What was he thinking? Max would always love him. Dylan didn't really love her! He'd just been programmed that way. Max would never take the artificial love of a clone over the real, warm love Fang was offering her. Who would want stiff arms when you could have gentle ones? Who would want dead lips when you could have alive ones? Who would want false passion when you could have true love?

Satisfied, Fang pulled the blankets back over himself. He turned over and finally, finally, slept.

Was that worth your time? I hope so. Is reviewing worth your time? I hope so!