Authors Note: Okay, lots to talk about. First off; I AM SO HAPPY! Last chapter has almost sixty reviews as of now, which may not seem so impressive to certain people, but is considered an amazing feat to me. It's more than I ever thought I'd get for a single chapter, so mucho thanks to all that took their time to review here, in the past, and from this moment on.

Second; I know some of you made comments about it seeming rushed. I know times a million. As I wrote it I could tell, and when I re-read it to edit I could tell, but there wasn't much I could do. The transition from hospital to fight was rocky because I've got this thing going where I don't have any page breaks or anything. I'm trying to improve my writing by finding a way to continue it constantly, connecting one time frame to the next. And some of you said the fight was too short, but you have to keep in mind that they fought longer than I explained. I tried to keep it quick and moving along, so if it seemed rushed, I'm sorry. Isn't that how fight scenes are supposed to be, though?

Third; Hopefully some of the questions you asked regarding Fang's involvement in street fighting will be answered soon. Probably in the last chapter, actually, which isn't that far off. Five more to go and this story is finished.

Chapter Twenty Five:

Gone

I shoved my books in my locker numbly, trying to ignore the deep, throbbing pain in my chest. There was a voice inside my head screaming that this was all my fault; that I should have been more prepared . . . that I could have prevented this from happening.

It was easier to blame him though.

"Max!" Someone shouted my name angrily from the end of the hall. Glancing around, I realized that through my angst-ridden musings the corridor had emptied completely. There wasn't a soul in sight.

Sighing I slammed the rest of my things into place before flinging the door shut with more force than necessary. I turned my back resolutely, stalking away. There was a hand gripping my elbow though, pulling me back before I could escape.

"So that's it then?" he demanded. "You're just going to ignore me now, because I beat you. God Max, I didn't take you to be such a sore loser. It's not that big of a deal anyway."

"Not that big of a deal?" I snarled, rounding on him as my fury increased. I gave him my deadliest look, ripping my arm from his grasp. "You don't know the first thing about it."

"Then tell me, because I obviously don't understand," he insisted, his gaze steady.

"You think I like street fighting?" I asked incredulously, trying to maintain a low and controlled tone. "I don't do it for kicks, Fang. You saw where I live. You saw my mother's condition. It's not just for fun, like it is for you! I do it because I need that money to live, and to raise Angel and Gazzy. I do it because I have to."

I was ashamed to feel the prick of tears in my eyes, hating the way my voice raised an octave or two as my speech proceeded. It was to the point that I was shouting as I finished, raw emotion clear in my tone.

Fang stared wordlessly at me, not able to come up with a proper retort at the time. I simmered silently, waiting for him to say something- anything. As the minutes ticked by though, and he still hadn't uttered a word, I finally caved. My shoulders dropped of their own accord, and I found it suddenly unbearable to look him in the eye. The guilt was eating me alive, because I knew he didn't deserve my anger.

I still blamed him though . . . Like I said, it was easier.

"It doesn't matter anymore though. My career is over. I don't have anything to fight for anymore," I mumbled, my face ashen at the memories . . .

"So you're just going to give up because you lost?" Fang asked quietly, his voice -as always- smooth as velvet.

"I'm not giving up," I insisted bitterly, wiping at my itching eyes. "I just don't need the money it brings now. It's too late for that."

"What do you mean it's too late?" he demanded, some emotion finally coming to his tone. I took a chance and peeked up at him, flinching at the steely glint in his eyes. It was the look his mother always gave me, like I didn't deserve to be in her presence. Was that what he thought of me now?

"I had a deal with the land lord," I began to explain softly, my eyes filling with tears again. I tried to wipe them away before they could fall, but they just kept coming and coming, faster as I recounted what happened. "As long as I payed the rent, on time, she wouldn't call Social Services and report my mother. It's been like that for what seems like forever."

I stumbled slightly then, as the realization hit me full force for the first time. I felt my back pressing against the cold lockers as I continued in a shaky voice; "But with Angel being in the hospital, we were low on cash. I managed to pay off that bill, but we were only left with barely half of the rent. That fight was my last chance to get enough money. The rent was due by ten the next morning."

I felt myself slide to the ground; my knees growing too weak to hold me. I buried my face in my trembling hands, trying to hold back the tears for just a bit longer . . . just until he had time to leave me.

"She didn't waste any time calling, no matter how much I begged . . . and they didn't waste any time coming, either. I was frantic, trying to think of what to do. I packed bags, intending to take them and flee. At least then we would be together. My family is all that I have. I promised myself that when our dad left, I would always protect them. I failed, though. The officer's came . . . and they took them. I can still see them kicking and thrashing, screaming for me to help." I choked back a sob, pressing my fist to my lips for a moment to calm myself.

"They left me. I'll be eighteen soon, and I had taken care of myself for long enough. What use would throwing me into an orphanage be, when I would be leaving almost immediately anyway? It doesn't matter though, because they took them. They're feeding them to the system as we speak . . . and there's nothing I can do. I promised I would keep them safe, but I didn't. I failed them. If I had just tried harder, this wouldn't have happened. I tried blaming you, but I know it's my fault. Angel and Gazzy are gone because of me."

I couldn't contain it any longer. It was like a dam busting. The tears gushed forth in a torrent, tearing a fiery path down my face. I sobbed into my sleeve, biting my forearm in the hopes of quieting the choked sounds.

I didn't care that I was at school, and most certainly way late for class. I didn't care that anyone could walk by at that moment and see me in such a vulnerable state. I didn't care about anything other than the fact that they were gone, and I was suddenly helpless without them.

"Max," Fang whispered, his breath tickling my ear. I shrunk away from him, hiccuping like mad as I cried every tear I had ever held in.

My actions did not deter him. I felt him kneel in front of me, just before there were strong arms folding me against a firm, warm chest. I tried to resist. There was a part of me that still wanted to be mad at him. He was rich. He could have anything he wanted. He didn't need that money. Not like I did. He fought because it was something to do. I fought to survive.

"I'm so sorry," he repeated over and over again, holding me to him with an iron grip. I relented slightly, burrowing my head into his shoulder as I sobbed. My fingers clutched at his shirt, tangling in the black fabric. I needed something to anchor me; to distract me long enough to forget the pain.

"God, you're such an idiot," Fang mumbled at one point, still stroking my hair. It was the first non-comforting thing he had said, and I immediately pulled back in surprise, my head smacking against the metal locker with a resounding thud. I winced slightly, but the hurt was only momentary, and it quickly faded; only replacing the affliction in my chest for a few seconds.

"What?" I asked incredulously, shoving against his chest. I managed to force him back a few inches, allowing myself some room to breath. He rocked back on his heels, still gripping my arms. He was staring at me intently, his brow furrowed.

"You should have told me, instead of walking away like that," he insisted, a flicker crossing his eyes. The emotion was gone almost instantaneously though, and I wasn't able to identify it.

I glared at him numbly, unsure of where this could be going; or how it hardly mattered.

"Max, I would have given you the money. If ever you were in financial trouble, I'd always help you," he informed me softly.

"I'm not a charity case," I spat, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

"Then you could pay me back," he said in exasperation, rolling his eyes. "Think of it as a loan."

I stared at him . . . and stared and stared and stared, my face completely blank and devoid of emotion. He returned my gaze in much the same manner, except he probably wasn't struggling to stay calm, holding back tears, like I was.

"You would do that . . . for me?" I inquired, my voice sounding strangely strained, like the anxiety was finally taking its toll.

"Of course I would," he said in that velvet smooth voice, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers lingered on my jaw line, ever so lightly tilting my head in his direction. His dark, obsidian eyes glinted in the dull lighting of the hallway, making me shiver at their intensity.

"Why?" I had to ask, before he could distract me further.

"Because . . . I . . . " he said haltingly, blinking rapidly. He took a deep breath, opening his mouth to continue, before snapping it shut again as a disgruntled look flashed across his face.

"What?" I questioned, leaning forward so that our foreheads were pressed together.

"I . . ."

In the end he never did finish what he was going to say. Instead he kissed me, his lips gentle on mine. For just a few moments there wasn't a thought in my head that wasn't centered completely around Fang. The magic was lost though, as soon as his mouth lost contact with mine. I breathed in sharply, turning my face away as thoughts of Angel and Gazzy infiltrated my mind once more.

God, if you're up there, please tell me what I can do to get them back. Please. I'm begging you.

"Max?" Fang asked in concern, his hand prodding my chin back around to face him. I met his eyes, and an automatic understanding passed between us, no words needed.

He stood, holding his hand out to me. I took it gratefully and he hauled me to my feet. I wobbled there slightly, putting a hand to my head. I realized with faint embarrassment that I probably looked like a mess. I didn't cry much, but when I did, it wasn't pretty. Self consciously I smoothed down my mussed hair, surreptitiously turning my head so that Fang couldn't see me well. I really hoped the puffy redness around my eyes went away soon.

He led me out the front doors without making a comment. No one was around to try to stop us from leaving the school's grounds, so we made it to his car without complaint. As he started the engine my devious mind began plotting ways to kill the Social Service workers who had come to take my siblings. All the while I was also coming up with plans to get them back.

"Home, or my place?" Fang inquired, his gaze sliding to me for a second before he resumed studying the road.

"Home," I replied shortly. Yeah, like seeing his mother glare at me was going to make me feel better.

"Have you been to the hospital lately?" Fang asked out of the blue, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye.

"Not since the day before last . . . The afternoon of the fight, actually. I don't know if I can go back just yet. I'm afraid of what he'll be like," I answered honestly, biting my lip at the thought of Jared's accusatory look as they sedated him.

"He knows then?"

"Yeah . . . I told him. I thought it would be better coming from me, rather than some nurse or doctor that didn't actually care. I think right now he just wants to blame someone, and I'm afraid it might be me."

"It'll be okay. You just have to give him time to accept it," Fang replied nonchalantly.

I stared at him, wondering how he came up with exactly the right words to make me feel better, even if it only was a little bit. He was just so matter-of-fact in his reasoning's. It was hard not to believe him.

We didn't talk anymore the rest of the drive, and for some reason I enjoyed the silence. I was left to my thoughts too much now that Angel and Gazzy were gone. This time though, I found it strangely peaceful. Fang was here. Fang knew. Fang would help, that I was sure of.

When we entered the apartment I shuddered as I remembered, once again, all that had happened just a scant twenty four hours ago. Could it really be? It seemed like they had been gone a lifetime. The room was so barren without them. I hadn't touched the television since. It only reminded me of how Gazzy was always glued to it every second of every day.

The shrill ringing of the telephone broke me out of my reverie, and I was grateful for the interruption. The last thing I needed was a trip down memory lane. That only made it more painful.

"Hello?" I answered, glad to hear my voice sounding neutral and calm.

"Hello," the person on the other end said cheerfully. Their voice sounded familiar, but I couldn't quite place where I had heard it. "Is this Max?"

"Yeah," I said cautiously, flickering a glance at Fang. He raised an eyebrow, and I shrugged in response. "Who is this?"

"Oh, Max! It's so good to speak with you again. It's Anne Walker, from the gym."

And that's when my world finally spiralled out of control.

Authors Note: I got totally in the zone while writing this! And sorry if it seems like Max forgave Fang a little too easily, after being so mad at him. She's all emotionl and stuff right now. Trust me though, she'll get her questioning in at some point. Most likely at the end, as I said before.

Also, I needed to add a fourth thing, and that was; Fang HAD to win the fight. Otherwise none of this would have happened, and there would be no story left. It would be over already. I'm aware that in the actual books, Max probably wouldn't have been overtaken by him, but for the sake of the plot and all, it has to be this way.

Please review! (: