Frost

Chapter 2

Their house was their house for one reason. It was no one else's. When they left the island, it had been in a rush. Over the years, many had left them, Max's little group disbanded. Max wanted to go somewhere new, she wanted to find somewhere for them. Back to the U.S. she said, just the Flock. Like it was always meant to be.

The house was nice. Empty. Untouched by the storms that had destroyed much of the Americas. At the time, none of them had had kids, they were all still young, and they were all so excited to have a place of their own. Maybe even more excited than they had been when they first learned the island belong to them.

Of course, they weren't alone. Dr. Martinez, who for obvious reasons couldn't fly, had taken longer to arrive at the house. She was accompanied by Jeb, who claimed that he had nowhere else to go. Fang hadn't wanted to let him stay, but what choice did he have?

And of course Ella came with her mother. Bleh. Fang had never really disliked Ella, but he never really cared for her either. She was in the way, really, as was her mother. Max had claimed it was going to be the Flock's house, yet here she was, bringing in her father, mother, and sister. They weren't part of the Flock.

Max, of course, had overridden him, like always. He might be the man of their relationship, but as she always reminded him, she was still the Flock leader. He had to accept that. All the time. She never let him forget it. Ever.

"You stink."

Even now. Fang blinked, staring at his wife. Wife. That had been taken care of not soon after they claimed the house as their own. Of course, the U.S. was no more, so at first, he just stared calling her that, telling her that it didn't matter. Records didn't matter. She was his wife now. She pretty much had always been his wife. Still, she wanted it to be real. Max liked everything to be real. She wasn't like a normal girl, even growing up. Imagination was fine…for the others. Max only dealt in reality.

He took her to France. They didn't have very good memories of France, but it was one of the places that had stayed most together after everything had happened. They could get records there, they could say vows there. So they did. There. In that other country. They only took Nudge and Angel with them. The boys didn't want to go, Iggy and the Gasman because they thought it was stupid, and Dylan because, well, duh.

"I mean God, it's freezing outside. How do you still manage to sweat?"

Fang shrugged now, watching Max as she went around their bedroom, clearly looking for something. He thought about asking what that something was, but then he remembered that he didn't care. Not really.

Standing slowly, Fang headed out of their bedroom, headed down the hall, then the stairs. When he got to the front door, Fang quickly put on his boots and slung on a jacket that was on the hook. Roy, Dylan, Iggy, the girls, they needed coats and things to keep them warm. Not Fang. He knew he'd never feel warm again.

Once he was outside, Fang headed towards the back of the house instead of to the gates. He didn't need to go outside them, not yet. He would later, when he did a grounds check, but right now he needed to take care of something else.

The people that had owned the house previously, all those years ago, must have been mighty rich. Enough so that they even had what Fang thought was a servant's quarters or guest house in the back. It was nice, though not as nice as the main house. It was two stories, with a bedroom on each floor.

That was Max's main selling point for sticking both her parents out there.

This was pushed by everyone else, as at the time, when they were all still young, they didn't want Dr. Martinez and Jeb in the house, supervising. Ew. They wanted to be adults, be alone, live as the Flock. Now though, Fang wasn't so sure that the two rooms were both getting good use, but whenever he brought this up to Max, she yelled at him and said there was no way her parents were hooking up. At all. That was a disgusting thought. Although he was inclined to agree with her on the latter, the jury was still out on the former.

"Oh. Fang. What is it you need, boy?"

He just walked passed Jeb as the man opened the door, heading into the house without concern. It was his, after all, by right. This house belonged to the Flock, Max was the leader of that Flock, and Fang was married to her. Ergo, this whole property belonged to Fang. Duh.

"Fang's here?" he heard Valencia call from somewhere. "Do you need something?"

Still, he said nothing, continuing through the first floor until he got the staircase. From there he headed up to the second floor, where the study was located. It had never really interested Fang before, though that was pretty self explanatory.

Reading? Fang didn't read at a very advanced level, if any level at all. He wrote his own blog, of course, back in the day, but that was different. That was writing what he thought. Reading though? Actually sitting there and reading? The letters would get all jumbled and mixed up. And it wasn't like he ever had anyone breathing down his neck to educate himself. Why would anyone? He was just Max's shadow, not even made to give her children and happiness like Dylan was, just there as a puppet to test out medicines and experiments on to see if they would be okay for her.

Here though, when it was winter and they were all bundled up on their property for months on end, Fang had to have something to do. Iggy and the Gasman built things. Jeb and Dr. Martinez read up on all the medical books they had brought with them, going over ideas with each other. The girls had each other, which meant only that when you leave four women together, alone, for months on end, they breed drama. That's always fun for them. Dylan and Roy both liked wood. They liked carving things from wood. Not to mention the two of them did most of the ground maintenance. They liked each other for some reason, got along well.

So where did that leave Fang?

Alone. What else was new? On his time alone, Fang began writing again, his own stories. His own tales, so unlike his blog. They were literal stories of his own creation. Not that anyone ever read them. None of the other adults at least. He had caught Max, his little vixen, try to read them before, thinking she was that master of sneakiness. He always caught her though and, after the last time in which he yelled at her, she had left him alone.

It was Nudge though, that made the suggestion to Fang that if he liked writing so much, perhaps he should take the reading. He was wary of this at first, as Fang had never really cared for reading. His own stories were fine, they were cool, interesting. They were exactly what he wanted to happen, not what someone else wanted.

Still, the winter that Jamie was born, Fang found that Max wasn't as nice about letting him out of the house or downstairs to write as his desk. She wanted him in the room with her, to tend to the baby when needed. Always the faithful and loyal husband, Fang did as she asked of him. Not without griping, of course, but that was nothing new. He'd complain, whine, and occasionally even berate Max's decisions behind her back, but he always followed them. She was his leader, always had been and always would be.

"Ah, you need more books, boy?"

He didn't respond to Jeb, as he never did, walking around the study as he tried to find a title that jumped out to him. The room had wall to wall bookcases, filled to the brim with very old novels. From mystery to medical, the inventory encompassed a vast number of topics. During the dreary winter months, Fang could find himself transported into some old western or an interesting adventure story. Even sci-fi interested him. And boy, if people thought new age sci-fi was weird, they wouldn't even be prepared for the things he read.

"When you were a kid, you, Max, and Iggy, they tried to teach you to read once. Well, one scientist in particular did. Janice Mullers. Boy do I remember her." Jeb made a noise at the memory that made Fang's stomach lurch. "She was young, in her twenties. Very tight body."

Fang grunted at that, thinking if he responded to that other male, he'd leave him be. Porn was gone in this new world with only old filth magazines they could find to be used as substitutes. Listening to his technical father-in-law, a typically dirty man all around, go on about some woman was not his idea of fun. Or interesting at all.

"Anyways," Jeb said, shaking his head. "She was young and felt very…motherly to the three of you. She didn't last long. Of course, that's because they killed her when she tried to leak information to the government, but that's another story for another time."

Or not.

"That was the end of that though. Max was very good at it, reading, but Iggy went blind not soon after. And you, well, they always thought you were a bit slow."

Figures.

"If they could see you now though. Reading and writing." Jeb laughed slightly. "And what has Max become? Or Angel? Our two prodigies? One a baby maker and one a gossip machine."

There were a lot of times that Fang wanted to hit Jeb. Mostly all the time. Since the beginning of time. Even when they lived in the that house in Colorado, Jeb had been a dick to Fang. Always. Still, he was such an old guy now that Fang couldn't bring himself to do it.

"Have what you need?" Jeb asked as Fang took a few books off the shelves before turning to leave the room. "Can you deliver a message to Max for me? Tell her that I need to see her desperately. It's about…it's best if you just send her to me, yes?"

That got a grunt too as Fang headed back to the first floor. Once there, he went into the kitchen, not shocked to find Dr. Martinez in there, at the kitchen table.

"Hi, Fang," she said, smiling up from her lab notebook at him. "How are you today?"

He just nodded at her before holding up the books he was taking. He liked Valencia, though he was never sure why. She had always been kind to him though, even when he wasn't very kind to her daughter. Not to mention, Jamie had loved her dearly and Fang was sure his next child would too.

"Oh, those look nice."

Nodding once more, Fang turned and walked out of the room before out of the house, shutting the door softly behind him. He was starting across the lawn back to the main house when he was hit with something from behind. Frowning, he looked across the yard to see Gazzy standing there.

"Hey, Fang!" He threw another snowball at him. "Been looking for you. Max is pissed about something. Said you walked away from her or something. You know, pregnancy hormones and all that. Wants to talk to you immediately."

Fang nodded at him, raising a hand to show the younger man he heard him. That didn't mean he was planning on doing as he was told though. Max had been on his case for weeks. Fang wanted to get away from her for awhile.

Opening his wings, he took his books with him as he ran across the yard, quickly taking the air. It was only when he was in the air, so high above everything that he thought about just leaving it all. It'd be so simple. So simple.


"I could leave you right now, pregnant, and never look back."

Max rubbed the back of his neck gently. "No, you couldn't."

"I will. If it's not a boy."

"Go to Hell."

Smiling, Fang shifted on the bed so that his head was pressed into Max's neck. "You're sure you're pregnant?"

"I missed my period two months in a row now and Mom says its why I haven't been feeling well. I've never been pregnant before though, so I really have no reference point."

"Guess we'll know soon enough. You know, when you get fatter."

"I won't get that much bigger. I definitely won't qualify as fat."

"A-ha!"

"What? God, you've been so freaking loud recently."

Fang bit at her neck this time, smiling as she squirmed. Against her flesh, he whispered, "I think that you're faking this little pregnancy bull."

"Is that what you think?"

"Yes."

"Why would I do that? For the glory? For the admiration? For the chance to be called fat by you?"

"No, so you can get fat without having to admit it. Then you'll finally admit later that you were never pregnant."

"Is that what I'm going to do?"

"Yeah."

Max looked down then, at her stomach. "You were serious though? About wanting a son?"

'Duh."

"Don't duh me."

"I can do what I want, Max. Duh."

She pinched his nose. "You're annoying."

"I've been called worse. By you. A lot."

"I don't want a son. I hear they pee in your face when you change them."

"Yeah, well, have fun with that."

"You're the one that wants a boy."

"Yeah, to, like, brag about him and shit. I don't actually want to raise one. Ew."

"Ew," Max agreed. "That's why I hope we have a girl."

"A girl?"

"Yeah. Then we could name her something cute."

"Since when are you into cute things?"

"…Or we could name her something hardcore. Like Puss or Bleeding Wound. Like what the hell, Fang?"

"Calm down, jeez." He stretched out on the bed, yawning. "I wouldn't mind a daughter either. Boy or girl, I don't care."

"It's gonna be annoying, waiting nine months to find out."

"That's how they did it in the old days."

Max just closed her eyes. "I'm tired."

"Mmmm."

"You're gonna have to do my share of the chores around here, pretty soon."

"When you get too fat to do so, you mean?"

"Yeah."

"You can dream on. You live here, you carry your own weight. Just like that baby. It better learn to chop wood or make dinner."

"You helped make this baby, you know."

"I'd like a DNA test."

"Oh, Fang."

He smiled, reaching down to stroke one of her hands. "In all seriousness though, it's going to be another mouth to feed."

'Thanks, old man."

"It is though, Max."

"I'm aware."

"And the way things are looking, it might come in December or January. Those are some cold months up here."

"That I'm also aware of."

"I just…it'll be hard, keeping it well. The baby."

"We'll have Mom to help us and Jeb."

"That man's not touching my child." Fang moved down the bed to press his face against her clothed stomach. "And he's not touching my wife."

"Who's going to deliver the baby, Fang?"

"Your mother, Iggy, Nudge, me, someone. Not him. He's not touching anything that's mine."

"I'm not yours."

"You are too. You're my wife. This is my baby."

"Only if it's a boy though, right?"

Fang smiled against the top of her head. "Only then."

"When we have a girl, I'm telling her all this."

"Tell her. I don't care." He kissed her head now. "I'll already be gone."

"I will. I'll tell her."

"It won't matter. She love me way more than you anyways."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"How do you figure?"

"Everyone loves me more than you."

"Everyone?" She turned to snuggle into his chest.

"Everyone."


"Where did you go? Huh? Where the heck-"

Fang held up his books, continuing on into their bedroom. "Read."

"Out in the cold?"

Nodding, Fang went to put his books down on their dresser.

"Fang, Gasman said that he told you that I was looking for you. Did he?"

Damn him. Again, Fang could only nod.

"Then why didn't you come?"

Shrugging, Fang began to strip down to his boxers. He needed his daily nap.

"What if I needed you, huh? What if it was something about the baby?"

Had it been something about the baby, she knew as well as he did that he would have come, that Gazzy would have mentioned it. Besides, what could have happened that he could have helped with? If she gave birth early, that would be something Dr. Martinez would need to know, not Fang. Fang couldn't do anything. He didn't want to do anything. This was her baby, not his.

"Oh, so you're just going to ignore me then? Jerk."

Fang settled onto the bed, pulling the covers up around himself. He was cold, but not too cold. Not cold enough to wear anymore clothes.

"Fang, do you love me or not?"

Was that a serious question? He would have rolled his eyes had they been open.

"Is that a no? Because I hardly even want to be around you anymore."

Then why the heck had she sent Gazzy out to look for him? Huh?

"…I think it's time that you stayed in the extra bedroom again."

That got his attention. "What?"

"Yeah," she said, swallowing. "You should stay in there, away from me. It's for the best."

The extra bedroom. The attic. Hardly a room at all. After Jamie first died, Max and Fang couldn't be around each other. At all. It made them sick to even look at one another. She sent him up there, away from her, even forcing him to eat his meals up there. He hardly got to come down. He wasn't going back there. No way was he ever going back up there.

"No."

"Fang-"

"No. This is my room. This is my bed. No." He was pushed up on his elbows now, boring holes into her eyes with his own. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Fine. Then I will."

"You can't walk up and down the attic stairs every day. You're pregnant."

"Like you care."

"I do care! No." He laid back down. "You're just being all dramatic and girly. No."

"Stop telling me no, Fang. I can do whatever I want."

"Fine then, Max. Sleep up the attic. See if I give a damn."

The door slamming behind her not only told him that she had left the room, but also that he was in trouble. Big trouble.


"Why didn't you wake me up for dinner?"

Nudge kept doing the dishes. "What was that, Fang?"

He looked around the empty kitchen. Where was everyone? "Why didn't you wake me up for dinner? I told you when I came in that I was going to lay down and that you were supposed to-"

"I'm sorry; I don't listen to douche bags that yell at their pregnant wives."

Fang blinked as she turned and left the kitchen. Well then. Someone was a little uptight. And did she even acknowledge the fact that though he might have been being a douche today, he was the one that got them running water? That helped get the whole town running water? (Well, he helped the other men in the town, at least.) No. She didn't.

"Okay then," he mumbled to himself, heading out the backdoor to find someone. The first person he found was Roy, who was chopping wood like usual.

"Hey, what was for dinner, because-"

"Sorry, Fang." Roy looked up at him. "The women said not to talk to you. You're in trouble or something."

"What is this? The third grade?"

Roy shrugged. "I can't have Nudge mad at me. So-"

Fang didn't hear him though as he walked off. Max wanted to play that game? Fine. He was just as good at it, if not better. He'd never talk to any of them again. He didn't need them. He didn't need any of them.

Turning now, Fang headed out the gates, leaving them unlocked behind him. He had already done a basic grounds check before, when he was hiding from Max, but just as well. He could do one again. And if he found something or someone, perhaps he would just let them or it destroy the stupid house with all those stupid people in it.

"Uncle Fang!"

Or not.

Turning, Fang found that Cassie was running towards him. Where did she come from? "Hmmm?"

"Here." She came to at the gates. Even though they were open, she knew her boundaries. Since Jamie went away, they wouldn't let her out of the gate without asking first. She didn't want to get in trouble.

"What?" Fang came back over as she outstretched her hand. "What is it?"

"I saved you cookies. From dinner." She giggled when he took them from her. "I had to hide them. Mommy and Aunt Max called you a lotta bad names and said you weren't very nice. What'd you do?"

"Nothing."

"Oh. I do nothing a lot too and they yell at me." She rocked on the balls of her feet. "You like my new mittens? Angel knitted 'em for me."

"Oh."

"Uh-huh." She held them up for him to see. "Where are you going?"

He cleared his throat. "Just to, you know, check."

"Can I come?"

"No." He turned then, back around. "It's bedtime. Go back into the house. Are you even supposed to be out here?"

"I had to find you." She smiled at him then. "You sure I can't come?"

"I'm sure."

"'kay. Goodnight, Uncle Fang."

"Goodnight."

She watched him from the gate though as he disappeared into the forest. It was only once she was sure that he was gone that she left, headed back into the house for bedtime.


"What happened to sleeping in the attic? Huh?" Fang grumbled as he came into his bedroom to find his wife in their bed, passed out. She hadn't even waited up to make sure he was okay. The nerve of her.

"Move over," Fang complained a minute later as he tried to get into bed. He honestly had enough room, but he wanted to wake her up, wanted her to know how upset he was. Shoving her, he repeated, "Move."

"What?" Max mumbled in her sleep, shifting on the bed. "Fang?"

"Move over. You're taking up too much room. Pull in your stupid wings."

"What is your problem?"

"Besides not being fed dinner? Nothing."

"God, do you want me to go make you something, you big baby? Huh?"

"Shut up. And scoot over while you're at it."

"Go up to the attic if you don't have enough room."

"No, this is- Are they serious right now?"

Max paused. "What?"

"You can't hear that? Nudge and her stupid husband." Fang collapsed on the bed finally. "I swear, they're going to break that damn headboard."

Max listened for a moment. "I can hardly hear it. You're just in a bad mood."

"No, I'm just tired of being ignored. Do you know that the only food I got was some cookies that the girl saved for me?"

"What girl?"

"Cassie."

"Why didn't you just say her name instead of-"

"Shut up, Max."

"You shut up."

They both settled into the bed, neither speaking. Eventually though, Max spoke up.

"God, Fang, I can't fall back asleep. You know that I have a hard time getting to bed, yet for some reason you-"

"You were on my half of the bed."

"And? When aren't I?"

"It's my bed too," Fang mumbled indignantly. "My room too. Not just yours. It's ours."

"Fang-"

"It's mine, alright? Not just yours."

"Fine. It's yours. Ours. Whatever." She put her back to him. "Just shut up."

"Thank you," he whispered, closing his eyes. "Max."