Hey, I'm actually pretty mad at you guys, because I got only two reviews. *Pouts*
Lestelle: Oh, quit it.
Me: Oh, and did I mention Lestelle is back from her 'punishment time' with Amaya? No, well, she is! Now, let's all give her a BIG welcome back. Oh, and I am going to be starting a few new stories. One will be about the Aztec Empire, looking forward to that one; and one that's the background for my Avatar picture.

Drink Chai, Live Life, Love Fax
~Stardust

Disclaimer: I do NOT own MR. If I did; Fang would still be with Max.
~ / (*-*) / ~ five children a day DIE from child abuse. Post this on your profile. ~ / (*-*) / ~

Max's P.O.V

"Oh, Max," he pleaded, on his knees in front of me. "I am so sorry. I just wanted to protect you from…"

My eyes hardened, I would not be swayed by his lies any longer, "From what?" He hesitated, and I snapped, "You know what? I have had enough of you, you bastard. I never really expected you to tell me anyways. This is just another one of your lies," I was furious, and decided to hit a little below the belt, "Just like when you said you loved me."

He looked up at me, his eyes full of sadness, pain, and regret. For one second, my instincts and a lifetime of friendship took over, and I was concerned for him. Then reason took over, and I turned from him, just as he said, "You have every right to think that, but that doesn't make it true."

I whirled, ready to let him feel the full force of my anger, "No? Then why the hell did you beat me, cut me, burn me, why did you torture me?" My voice broke on the last word, "You never loved me, you never cared, hell you never even LIKED me! Why the heck should I believe you, Fang Itexicon?" (Anyone see where this is going?)

He made a move to get up off of his knees, where he had been through this whole exchange. I could have easily hurt him from the distance between us, but I believed in the 'Don't kick a man when he's down' philosophy, even if Fang barely counted as human. But as he started to get up, he fell back, biting his lip and scrunching up his face.

As if I was possessed by some unseen force, I walked over to him, then around him; he was stock-still, barely breathing. I placed one hand on his back, and a low hiss escaped his clenched teeth. I scowled, and pulled up the back of his t-shirt, exposing the newly-healed scabs to the cold wind. I was shocked, to say the least. Thin lacerations laced across his back, looking only a few days old. The disturbing part was that they were all going the same way, they would've had to be deliberate, and without a doubt, painful. I then realized that Fang was breathing shallowly and quickly, as if trying not to move his chest overly much.

In a kind of frenzied panic, I pulled off Fang's shirt completely, so focused on my task that I didn't ogle (much) at his abs. I was too horrified at the even newer cuts on his chest and arms. They were cracked and starting to bleed. Unless he got medical help, he could bleed out. You could count every one of his ribs, and his skin was starting to sag, a sign of dehydration. He would need fluids, and fast, especially if he was going to have medical treatment, and he couldn't make his own blood unless he had enough fluids and nutrients to transport the oxygen.

Putting my anger aside for the moment I said, "Fang, you need medical treatment. Let's go get Mom." She was a doctor at the local hospital.

Fang looked… scared. "No, Max!" he shouted; then he whimpered, "I can't go there."

This was ridiculous, "Why not?"

"Because," he said quietly, "If I go, then they will ask questions, which means that you will get hurt."

I was sick of this 'So you won't get hurt' stuff. Then I had a good idea, "I can say that I saw you get hurt skateboarding, and since I'm an intern there, I can say it just needs to be cleaned and bandaged, but you would prefer to be in a room by yourself to clean it, and they won't care!"

He looked relieved, "That just might work."

I laughed, "Just admit it, you like all of my ideas."

"Not all of them," He said, winking.

I burst out laughing. Here was the Fang I knew, cared for, and loved. But, of course, the moment had to end when he asked the question I had been dreading, "Max, why do even care now?"

I sighed, "Because, even if you are bastard who hurt me, no one deserves to die by bleeding out, getting infected, or because of a cut that won't heal."

We were walking now, his shirt on now. He wrapped his arm around my waist and rested his head on top of mine, "You can't save everyone, Max."

I looked up at him, "No, but I can at the very least try to."

~ / (*-*) / ~ 78.3% of kids who are abused are neglected ~ / (*-*) / ~

We were at the hospital now, Fang walking slightly behind me and to the left. We walked in, and the smell of antiseptic tickled my nose, familiar and somewhat comforting. Fang, on the other hand, looked like he wanted to jump out of his skin and run down the street as fast as he could.

We walked up to the receptionist, and I said, "Hey, Kathy. Where's Mom?"

"Hey, sweetheart," Kathy was super nice and let me help her at the desk sometimes. "Your mother's in an operation at the moment. Do you want me to let her know you're here?"

"No, that's fine. But if she asks, I'm in the spare room cleaning up a skateboard accident."

She turned and looked at Fang, and rolled her eyes, "I trust that you'll take care of him, Max. Don't be too rough on the poor guy. Your scolding ought to be enough to teach him a lesson."

I could feel Fang's laughter, or, more accurately, smirk, from where I was standing. "Quit laughing, Fang, or I will be less than gentle with your cleaning."

That only made him start chuckling, "Are you ever gentle with anything?"

I halfway turned to look at him and gave him my most evil grin/leer combination; which was pretty scary, if I do say so myself. And I saw him gulp. Poor sap. He has to deal with my anger.

I laughed, beckoning to the spare room, and Fang followed with some hesitation. I set him on the cold metal table and got the IV fluids to insert into his arm. I then got the rubbing alcohol, and started with his arms. I methodically cleaned his arms, and then started on his chest. I lost myself in my work, on keeping his back straight in a way that he wasn't hurting. Bandaging what I could, and what I couldn't, cleaning even better. I finished his back, and looked for more injuries. I found a shallow cut on his face that I hadn't noticed before. I got a new cotton ball, and gently cleaned it before putting a bandage on it. I looked into his eyes, about to ask a question, but lost my train of thought when I saw his nearly black eyes, burning with something as he pulled me closer towards him.

~ / (*-*) / ~ approximately 80% of kids who die from child abuse are under 4. ~ / (*-*) / ~

Cliff hanger! A small amount of Fax to satisfy all you Fax lovers out there, and there will be heaps of it in the next chapter! Any comments, suggestions, and flames are appreciated! Review or PM me, and I will recognize you, and we may end up having a VERY funny conversation. Please post the line breaks on your profile to stop child abuse. AMAYA! YOU SAID YOU WOULD AND YOU HAVEN'T! And yes, I CAN be a profile-stalker. ;)

~Stardust