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XxCaraCalClawXx and Dot Ride

All right guys, time to lay out the heavy stuff. This chapter is the longest one in this story so far, so thumbs up for that! It's much heavier than anything I've ever written in the past, so let me know what you guys think! Reviews have been slowing down, and they really do mean the world to me!


TRIGGER WARNING: SELF HARM


Max POV

Things had been going really great between Fang and I since our anniversary dinner last week, up until last night. Normal couples fought, I got that, but something about our fight felt so devastating, so permanent. Like I had dug myself a ditch only to find that I couldn't get out.

All because some bitch named Lissa decided to send Fang some naughty snapshots.

He claimed that she and him were a thing of the past, that she was an ex that he would never be reconnecting with. She was on the other side of the freaking country, he had argued. But a girl doesn't just sext somebody because she got bored. No, it just didn't happen.

"How long has this been going on?" I had screamed, choking back on my tears.

"Max, please–"

"Don't 'Max' me! What, are you getting so little out of our relationship that you feel the need to go somewhere else- to resort to some whore willing to send you high resolution closeups of her lady bits? Am I not enough for you?" I croaked, rage taking over my every breath. I had trusted him. I had fucking started to fall in love with him, for what, to be replaced by a slut who couldn't keep her legs closed? Or was it the opposite, that Fang had never broken it off with her and I was the side relationship?

"It's not like that Max! Dammit!" He slammed his phone onto the floor, sending it skidding into the wall.

"Then tell me what it's like, Fang! Fucking tell me already!" I hollered at the top of my lungs, not caring that my family in the house over could probably hear me cursing, a notion in which I seldom took part in.

"She's jealous that I've moved on, Max! She's trying to get between us!" Fang tried to reason, but it was falling on deaf ears.

"She's doing a damn good job then." I growled.

"Max- trust me, please. I thought you've known me long enough to realize that I'm not the type of guy to go and cheat on you! With an ex-girlfriend that broke my fucking heart nonetheless!"

"Apparently I was wrong." I spat.

"Apparently so was I. I didn't think you were one of those girls that were so insecure in their relationships that some bitch could pop in and ruin everything, for both of us."

"You said it yourself that she broke your heart! You loved her Fang! Of course I'm insecure!"

"I loved her, Max. As in the past tense of the word. She's nothing to me."

"No, she's just some girl who sends you nudes for the Hell of it. Nothing going on there or anything."

"There is nothing going on! I haven't even talked to her since the night we broke up!"

"Sure."

"Are you fucking kidding me Max? How dumb are you?"

"Apparently very if I didn't see this for the entire time I've known you."

"There wasn't anything to see besides you and me!"

"I think I should go now."

"Max–"

"Good bye, Fang. Have fun with Lissa." I stammered, glaring at him through wet eyes. I couldn't let those tears fall; I couldn't show him what he had done to me.

"Screw you." He barked before I ran out of his house, blinding myself with tears. Almost six weeks of my life wasted on some asshole that didn't even care about me. I was probably just an object for him to play with until he got bored.

And then to top it all of, he had the nerve to text me this morning.

F: We need to talk

Could he be any more ominous? "We need to talk"? No shit we needed to talk. But I didn't want to speak to him. I didn't want to look at him.

I didn't want to even think of his existence at the moment.

I was about to lose him.

My body was shaking violently and there was nothing I could do. Tears streamed down my face and drenched my pillow. And Fang, Fang wasn't here for me anymore. He wasn't here to soothe me, to coddle me in the way that I used to find semi-annoying but incredibly relaxing at the same time.

I'd lost the one good thing in my life that I had going for me. And with it, I had lost that last little piece of myself that was willing to fight.

And the blades were calling to take it all away.

So I gave in.

Mom wasn't home, and neither were Gazzy or Angel, but I made sure all doors that accessed my room from the house were locked in case Ella decided to drop in. She was likely to be asleep, but I didn't want to take that chance. I don't remember the steps I took to the bathroom sink after I did so, grabbing a silver blade out of it's hiding spot once I somehow got there. I blanked for a moment and next thing I knew I was on my bedroom floor, blood spilling into my hand. Blood smeared over my hipbone. So much blood.

Too much blood.

I was too light-headed, too shaky. I had gone too far, and if I didn't stop the bleeding soon, I'd–

"Max?!" A voice screamed, and heavy footsteps raced to my side. I was scooped into a familiar set of arms.

Fang.


Fang POV

I had said some really bad things to Max during our fight, things that I knew I couldn't take back, but it didn't dent the guilt pooling in my mind. I'd be pretty pissed if Max was receiving naked pictures from other guys, and I get why she's skeptical.

But that doesn't change the fact that Lissa is like the filthy gum under my shoe, and I just wished that Max would believe that.

But then again, she had acted out like she had caught me in bed with the fucking girl! There was no concrete proof that I was having any relations with Lissa whatsoever, other than the one-way message chain of erotic nudes that did the opposite of what they were intended to do. Lissa had sent me those photos out of desperation, and it wasn't attractive. I only had eyes for one girl, one with blond hair and not red, brown eyes and not green, and a personality that puts every angle Lissa had shot of herself to shame. It wasn't sexy for her to throw herself out there like that, and I had a feeling that I wasn't the only guy she had sent those to.

But Max still took it the wrong way. She had made assumptions on a whim, as if the weeks we've been together have meant nothing to her. Not once have I lied to that girl or given her any reason not to trust me. But it meant nothing.

Max hates me.

I was angry at her, sure, but it didn't change the way I felt about her. I couldn't lose her. I loved her.

And I needed to tell her that before it was too late. I needed to apologize, to do something. I had just started something that I didn't know how to finish.

F: We need to talk

I texted her, but she never responded. I stared at the glowing screen of my phone, waiting for it to buzz with a reply from Max, but it never did. And it became apparent that it never would.

So what's a guy to do besides climb a balcony and break in? I didn't think that I was necessarily welcome into her house at the moment, but I needed to talk to her. I couldn't imagine the thoughts that must be running through her head, and I just wanted to get a few more words into her mind now that I was a bit calmer. I felt terrible about losing my temper on her.

I'd tell her once again that Lissa was nothing to me, and that Nudge and Iggy could verify that. That I cared about her way too much to let one past girlfriend jeopardize our relationship. I'd apologize to her over and over again and beg her to forgive me until she'd do it if only for the sake of getting me to stop.

I would never stop fighting for my Max.

I looked up at the wall of Max's house I was prepared to scale for the second time, nervous on what to expect once I got inside. I knew it wouldn't be a great big bear hug and one of her smiles that I was very fond of, but what I saw surpassed all of the worst-case-scenarios running through my head.

What I saw made my insides rip apart and my heart leap through my throat.

Max. On the floor. Covered in her own blood.

"Max!" I screamed, sprinting to her side. Everything that I had previously prepared myself to say to her was thrown out the window. The only thing I would allow myself to pay attention to was the girl in front of me and her needs alone. Our relationship could come later, but her health couldn't. I had never even considered that I could lose her all together. Breaking up with her was worlds away from burying her.

Her eyes were glazed over and her torso was shaking viciously. I pulled her into my arms and carried her into the bathroom, sitting on the edge of her tub with her limp in my lap. She was sobbing hysterically into my chest, repeating the word "sorry" over and over again.

"Don't be sorry." I croaked, trying to hold back emotions of my own. Max needed me to be her rock right now.

Blood was still pouring out of her side and I dared to take a look. I choked on my breath; she had done this before. Similar gashes marred her hips and surrounding area, some more healed than others. She had been doing this to herself right under my nose, and I was too oblivious to see it. She had been hurting and I hadn't even noticed long enough to do anything about it. I mean, it wasn't like she ever gave me reason to question– fuck. Realization hit me harder than Max had weeks ago.

That time we got in an altercation after I had moved my hands onto her hips, when I thought she had assumed I was going in between her legs but she had assured me that it was because of some bruise and a bad case of PMS, I had these scars right under my fingertips. She was scared I would find out.

She didn't want me to know.

Max noticed my pause and only sobbed harder. Between her sobbing and her bleeding and all of the thoughts racing through my mind about how shitty of a boyfriend I was, I began to lose it myself. Breathe, Fang. Just breathe.

"Max, don't cry." I trembled, starting to apply gentle pressure to the newly gushing gash on her hip. Warm red liquid seeped through my fingers, covering my hand entirely. I was no doctor, but I knew that she was losing too much blood. She needed help that I could not give her.

"Bandages? Max, where are the bandages?" I asked, stirring Max on my lap. I needed to stop the blood flow before she lost consciousness, and I would have to go from there. But I could only do it if Max remained awake.

"First drawer." She weakly managed to say. I set her down in the tub and fished around, pulling out a gauze pad and the biggest band-aid in the box.

"Don't tell." She stuttered, her eyelids fluttering.

"Stay awake, Max. You have to stay awake." I instructed, pushing the gauze firmly onto the wound. Max winced in pain and slumped against the tiled wall, looking hopeless. She was broken, and I didn't know if I could fix her.

"Please–" Max pleaded.

"I won't tell, I promise. Just let me fix you." I asked, hating seeing her like this.

"You can't fix me." Max slurred solemnly, avoiding eye contact. I sealed the bandage over the gauze and cleaned the trickling blood off her leg, not knowing how to react to her statement.

"Will you stay here while I go get you some juice?" I asked, lifting her chin. Max weakly nodded.

I raced out of her bathroom, shuddering as the silver blade covered in Max's blood caught my glance. I snatched a juice box from the kitchen, presumably one of Angel's, and returned to Max's aid in a flash, adrenaline taking it's toll.

"Drink this." I punctured the straw through the cardboard pouch, handing it to Max.

"I'm sorry." She sniffled, sipping the sugary fluid slowly. I sat next to her in the tub, pulling her closer to me. She cowarded away from my touch.

I eyed the bandage I had sealed over the gash, and sucked in a breath as the red stain started to grow bigger. She was going to need stitches. Stitches required a doctor.

"Max– look, forget everything, okay? But we need- you need- to go to a hospital."

"No hospital." She protested.

"You'll bleed to death."

"'S just a scratch."

"Bullshit, Max! I know it, you know it, and we can't waste any more time!"

"I can't Fang. A hospital is out of the question."

Was she implying that she would rather bleed to death than go to a hospital? Or was that her intention this entire time?

Was Max trying to kill herself?

"Max- what about your mom? She's a vet, she could–"

"Absolutely not!"

"Max," I was absolutely desperate. I'd throw her over my shoulder and carry her into the damn emergency room against her will if it came to it. "What about Jeb?"

"What about him?"

"He's a doctor, technically. Even though he's in research he went to medical school and everything. He can do stitches."

"But he'll–"

"I'll talk to him. He won't tell."

"Fang–"

"Max, I'm not going to let you die. You have two choices, you let me take you to Jeb, or I will drag you to the hospital kicking and screaming."

Max hesitated, clearly thinking through her options. I would feel incredibly guilty about pulling Jeb into my problems, but I could live with it. I could not, however, live with the thought of losing Max.

"Take me to Jeb." Max croaked.

I nodded, lifting her up bridal-style. She buried her face into my neck as I maneuvered through her house, careful about discrepancy. I made it out her side door without notifying anybody that might have been in her house, but entering my house was an entirely different case.

Jeb was waiting sitting on a kitchen stool, sipping his morning coffee. And he spotted us immediately.

"Fang, what is this?" Jeb questioned, situating his mug on the counter top.

"Max is hurt."

"Follow me." Jeb instructed, weaving through the house until he arrived at the door to his office. It was still half-unpacked, but it would do. I readjusted Max in my arms before following Jeb inside, following his instructions to set her down on his chaise.

"Fang, there is a first aid kit in the first drawer of my desk. Could you fetch it?" Jeb requested, and I nodded, following his order word for word. Max's life depended on it.

"Max? Can you hear me?" I heard Jeb ask, looking over my shoulder to see if Max reacted. She weakly nodded her head, pulling her legs into a fetal position.

"Stay awake, Max. I need to take this bandage off and see what we're looking at." Jeb spoke softly, ripping the band aid off. Max jumped, gasping for air. It pained me that she was hurting, but at least there was some force keeping her awake. Once she drifted off, there was no telling whether or not she'd ever wake up.

There was no pretending that Jeb hadn't seen the scars and known what had happened for this injury to occur, but he knew as well as I did that now was not the time for questioning. Max didn't need a therapist right now, she needed a doctor.

"Fang, there is a bottle of whiskey behind the desk. Get it." Jeb ordered, wiping off the gash on Max's hip with a medicated swab. From what I could tell, it stung.

"Is this really the right time for you to be–"

"For her, Fang. I'm about to stick a needle through her skin; she's going to need something to take the edge off."

Whoa. I did not expect that from Jeb. Even though it was for medicinal purposes, I'd never pegged him as the guy to give liquor to minors.

I snagged the bottle and popped off the cap, bringing it to Max's lips. She took a gulp and gritted her teeth, clearly renounced by the taste.

"C'mon, Max. More." I stroked her shoulder, urging her to take a few more sips.

"You trying to get me drunk?" Max cracked, weakly faking a smile.

"Yeah, I am. Now drink." I instructed, pushing the bottle back to her lips. She got in a few more sips before Jeb stuck the needle through her skin.

"Ow! Ah!" Max screamed, clenching the cushion beneath her tightly.

"Don't focus on the pain, Max. Focus on me. My voice. You're doing great, okay?" I comforted, giving Jeb a knowing glance. This wasn't going to be a one-and-done procedure. She had many stitches left to go.

Six painstaking minutes passed before Jeb cut the wire, finished off the round of stitches. All twenty-one of them.

"Max, Fang and I are going to go find you some pants and something to boost your blood sugar, okay? We'll be right back." Jeb stated, draping a blanket over Max's semi-limp figure. It hadn't even occurred to me that Max had been in her underwear this entire time.

"Fang. Stay." She begged.

"I'll be right back, I promise." I kissed her lightly on the forehead before following Jeb into the kitchen.

"Care to explain to me the situation, Fang?" He crossed his arms, leaning against the counter.

"It's pretty obvious, don't you think?"

"How long have you known about her habits?"

"About thirty minutes, give or take."

"I need to file a report."

"You can't, Jeb! I promised her," I paused, knowing serious situations are better handled when approached with a certain maturity. The only thing Jeb cared about was Max's health, mental and physical, which we both agreed on, but he didn't have a relationship at stake. "I know she needs help, but she is terrified right now. Her fate is out of her hands. Just let me talk with her, okay? Surrender your role as a professional for ten minutes and just be my father."

"I have an obligation to her mother. It's not that easy. If God forbid you were harming yourself in the way that she had done, I'd want to know about it immediately in order to get you the proper help."

"I understand, but I love her. And I made her a promise that her secret was safe."

"That promise was not one for you to make, son! She could have died, do you realize that?"

"Yes! I do! I'm well aware of how serious this situation is! And I'd never do anything to put her in danger, but I don't think filing a report or telling her mother will help her."

"Then what do you suppose will?"

"Me."

"That's quite ambitious of you."

"Maybe so, but I need to help her. It kills me that she is hurting right now. Back in her bedroom, she made it clear that she'd rather die than have her mother find out that she cuts herself."

"You think she's suicidal?"

"Maybe? I don't know! I really appreciate what you've done, but just let me talk to her and figure some things out, okay?"

"Fine. Go be with her. I'll find some sweatpants and a muffin, but she needs you right now. We'll talk later."

"Thank you. For everything." I replied, racing back to Max.

"Fang–" She started as soon as she saw me walk back through the door.

"Sh, don't talk right now. Jeb will be in shortly with some things, okay?" I cut her off.

"I'm sorry." She whispered.

"Don't. There's no need for it."

"I'm glad you came. I was so scared back there. I had gone too deep, and there was so much blood, and I didn't know if I would–"

"I know, Max. We'll talk about it later, okay? But let's just get you back up and running first."

"I'm sorry we fought."

"I am too."

We sat in silence for awhile before Jeb came in with sweats and carbs, the perfect combination. He set everything on the table before leaving, giving me a nod of approval.

"Let me help you into those pants." I offered, pulling Max into a seated position.

"I can dress myself, you know."

"I know. Do the stitches hurt at all?"

"The whiskey took the edge off, but yeah. A bit."

"Here, eat the muffin and when you're ready, I'll take you home."

"Thank you."

"Not a problem."

"I mean for everything. For not giving up on me, for handling it all so well. For being here."

"There's no place I'd rather be."

Max nibbled on her muffin a little, not seeming to have much of an appetite, before sliding the pants over her torso and tightening the drawstring at the waist. She made an attempt to stand, but was too shaky for comfort, so I once again picked her up off her feet. She'd be safer in my arms.

"Ready to go home?" I asked.

"Yes."

I let her down as soon as I got past the kitchen, supporting her as she took a few steps. I followed behind her as she made her way out of my house, into hers, and up to her bedroom, before locking the door as she fell into her bed.

"Can we talk?"

"Fang–"

"Please, Max. Let me help you."

"I can't. You can't." She cried.

"Just let me try."

"You don't get it, do you?," Max almost laughed, and I was terrified of her statement to come. "I'm too far gone. You don't know what He did to me!" She elaborated, starting to shake again, either from the drop in blood sugar or another reason unknown.

He? There was a He that did something unjustifiable to this beautiful girl, something so horrid that it shattered her completely?

"You'll tell me when you're ready. Or you won't. I'm here for you either way." I comforted, avoiding my urge to hug her tightly.

"Why are you so nice to me?" Max questioned, looking right into my eyes for the first time since I had found her.

"Because I care about you." I answered, encasing her right hand in mine. Because I love you.

"Even after," she fought to hold back more tears, "this?"

"Yes." Max wiped all the moisture off her face.

"You think I'm weak?" Max concluded, seeing it in her mind that the only reason I would consider sticking around was because I thought she wouldn't be strong enough to handle it on her own.

"No, Max. I think you're the strongest person I've ever met." I stated honestly, knowing the magnitude of the events that must have led up to this downfall. Knowing how much physical pain she had endured with the stitches and the initial cut itself, let alone the emotional pain.

"Will you stay?" Max requested.

"Of course." I replied, lying next to her.

"I'm not ready to tell details." Max stated, inching her body closer to mine.

"Whatever you're ready to tell, I'm ready to hear. Please, Max, open up to me."

"Okay," she paused, nervously looking up at me, as if she needed to reassure herself that I was in fact still there. She opened her mouth and continued to speak, and what I heard had my blood curling.

What she told me was something right out of a horror movie.

~* To be continued *~


Sorry, not sorry for the cliff hanger! Red-haired Wonder strikes again! Please, please, please take twenty seconds out of your day and drop a review in the box. I'm 13 away from 100, and it would mean everything to me if I could get there before the next chapter. If I do make it, I will give a shout out to every person who helps me get there.

Fly on!