Thanks for the support, guys. This has been fun!

Love you!

-wise_yet_harmless

MAX'S POINT OF VIEW

I am starting to realize just how much I love the night. In the dark, I can't see my bruises and stitches. In the quiet, I can hear my breathing, something I no longer take for granted. I am no longer expected to move much, just lay still and think.

I've spent a lot of nights next to Fang, something that partly gives me a headache and partly makes my heart beat a little faster. It's pretty much the most obnoxious feeling in the world. We stay there and talk about tons of things. Usually not happy things, cuz' laughing hurts, but other things. Like secrets. I told Fang about being adopted and he told me the few memories he had of his mom. I had a hard time keeping my cool when he told me that. I knew it was rough for him. I knew something bad happened. I knew it was enough to tear his dad apart. I knew he wouldn't want to tell it.

When he did, he didn't tell it to me normally. Usually, his face was set so much like stone you would never know what he was thinking. He had ultimate control of his facial features. Except when he told me about his mother, that is. His hands balled tightly into fists and he shut his eyes, his eyebrows arching in what I can only describe as agony. It wasn't much- not compared to other people, anyway- but for Fang, it was huge. I was so heartbroken by the story I reached down to one of Fang's hands and held it. Fang didn't respond, but his shoulders seemed to relax a little. I considered that a victory.

The days, however, felt like a living nightmare. I would try my best to keep up with the chores around the house with one hand, but it was hard. I couldn't move well, if at all. I wanted to be able to do the things I could before; drive fully, cook, run, etc. My immobility was really a downer, people. Heck- try dressing yourself with stitches all over your legs and an arm in a cast. Sheesh.

Wait. Don't think I wasn't happy I got out somewhat okay. I was really, really happy to be alive. The doctors told me the only reason we didn't break our spines after the twenty five plus drop was because the ride had somehow tilted itself. It shouldn't have happened- we were sitting close together on one side, but the ride tilted the other way. I don't actually remember it happening because I was thrown to the wall on impact, giving me a major concussion, a broken collar bone and arm, and a dislocated shoulder. I lost my memory of hitting the ground and most of the ride to the hospital, aside from a few blips of noise and pain.

I was better off than Fang, because he was awake the whole time. He got a leg caught under the ride, crushing his foot, ankle and leg bones. He told me the ride was broken enough that he had to punch his way out before dragging us both to safety. His hands were so broken and cut the doctors thought he would lose them. The debris and broken metal everywhere attacked and bruised Fang and I so badly we looked like gruesome war survivors. All in all, we were much better off than expected. Most didn't think I would ever wake up from my coma, let alone fully functioning and speaking full sentences. Fang hadn't been expected to live through the loss of blood or ever be able to walk- but he was recovering miraculously.

Call us miracle children. Lucky. Whatever. We were alive, somehow.

For now, I mean.

ELLA'S POINT OF VIEW

"El?" Iggy called from the kitchen, his voice muffled by the sound of something sizzling.

"Yes?"

"C'mere."

I smiled apologetically at Fang and set my cards down. Fang waved a hand, telling me to go ahead. I got up from where we were playing and hurried into the kitchen. I entered, smiling, as I saw Iggy doing so many things at once his hands were a blur in front of him. Without even showing that he knew I was there, Iggy handed a bowl in my general direction, nodding at it.

"Whisk this as fast as you can for the next minute and a half."

I took the bowl, doing as he asked. Iggy was in the zone; his total concentration was on his cooking. He had probably four or five things cooking at that moment: a smoothie in the blender, two different trays in the oven, he was kneading something light and fluffy and I had a green substance in my bowl. Iggy went from one place to another, mixing, stirring, smelling, tasting and seasoning. I knew better than to interrupt his thoughts with conversation. So I just watched him.

The more time I spent with Iggy the more I noticed the little, trivial things he did. For instance, I never noticed just how often he flipped his hair out of his face. Iggy had fair, strawberry blond hair with layered bangs that fell almost to his eyes. Unfortunately, his ultra sensitive nerves seemed to be annoyed with his hair, as he often flicked his head a little to get his bangs to settle correctly. It was such a small, average motion that I had never paid much attention to it. Iggy also rolled back his shoulders when he felt threatened. It was like he was trying ti make himself appear taller, even though he towered over most people.

The most concerning, however, was when I discovered just how many scars Iggy had! His skin was so fair they were very hard to see, but you could definitely feel them. They covered his hands and arms, making it all the way to his neck. Most were short and thick, attesting to how deep the cuts must have been. I wanted to ask where he got them all, but I guessed they were either from his new fascination in bombs, or his cooking.

"El, hand me the bowl."

I snapped my head up and stopped stirring. I realize I had been stirring so vigorously I was starting to splash and get the mysterious substance everywhere.

"Oh dear! My bad; I got lost in thought."

Iggy laughed. "Yeah, I know. Go get Fang, food's almost done."

I left and went over to Fang, who had cleaned up our game and was looking out the window silently.

"I guess we're not playing anymore, then?"

"You were going to win, anyway."

I held my hands out to my older brother and he rested his forearms in my palms so I could pull him up. His hands were still quite injured, so he did his best not to use them. He stood on one foot while I grabbed his crutches and handed them to him. Fang really hated the crutches; they were loud and obnoxious to him, but it was that or a wheelchair. Fang would not be able to walk normally for a few months because he had so many injuries that needed to heal. He could not put any weight on one leg at all, nor could he bend his knee very well. I knew it was driving him to his breaking point, but he never complained. He was just that strong, I suppose.

"How are you feeling, Fang?" I asked him, looking over his various lacerations.

"Better."

"That's good. Have you taken your pain medication yet?" Fang shook his head. He hated taking medicine and I had to constantly encourage him or he would not take them. Once we all sat down I took a big breath in, smelling all the delicious food. Iggy had made vegetarian pesto lasagne, garlic artichoke toast, and a peach and strawberry parfait for dessert. Even Fang looked eager to dig in.

It was relieving to be with the people I loved most. Safe, happy and secure. Fang was out of the hospital, Iggy was still in town, my dad was gone...

My dad was gone.

Still.

It had been six weeks.

Was he dead? Did he move? Was he hiding out somewhere? Was he sick? Was he lost? Was he staying gone?

Was he coming back?

I didn't want him to be back, ever, of course, but I got an uneasy feeling when I considered him dying. It would be better if he were dead- much better. But did I really want that? Did I want him to buried underground for the rest of eternity?

I wasn't sure.

Fang seemed to be having the same problem. Although, I think he was more worried than I was. With good reason, of course. What with his injuries and all... Who was to take the wrath of my father? Surely, Fang couldn't bear to be hurt anymore than he was now, could he? He would be hospitalized again, or worse... No, no, Fang could not be around my father until he was able to heal. Maybe not ever again.

I could never ask anyone to take Fang's place. No one but myself. I knew that if Fang was seriously hurt or killed, I would be next in line. It was the only thing to be done. If Fang could do it, couldn't I? He couldn't have been the only one capable of protecting the other. He simply couldn't. I knew I was much more vulnerable. I knew I was more afraid, more fragile. Nevertheless, if the time came, I vowed I would be the first one to answer to my father. I would finally, finally, be able to pay my brother back for the countless he sheltered me from the horrors of my household.

And I would.


Because Fang could not walk well, Max often came over to visit, instead of the other way around. She had spent the night dozens of times to be with Fang and "help babysit y'all." Fang seemed most relaxed with her around, making me think he was worried about her. However, Max was as witty and perceptive as ever.

She played cards with Fang and I, got recipe help from Iggy, and talked with me, like a sister would. We all grew a little dependent on Max, really. Iggy liked having someone to get loud and enthusiastic with, I loved having another girl to speak with, and Fang just needed someone who shared his aches and pains. They were the only ones who knew what they were going through.

MAX'S POINT OF VIEW

I threw open the door with my good hand, jumping into the cool house.

"I'm here," I called. I walked over to the living room where I usually found Fang. I almost bust out laughing when I found him slumped on the couch with his leg propped up, and his arms at his side. He was fast asleep. I tiptoed past him and found Ella with Iggy in the kitchen. Ella was on a kitchen stool, reading a novel while Iggy scrubbed at some dishes.

"Hey guys," I said quietly.

"Hello, Max. How are you?"

"Pretty good! You?"

"I'm well. Have you seen Fang? He was hoping to see you today."

"Oh, I saw him alright. He's passed out on the couch."

Ella jumped out of her chair and poked her around the corner, spying on her brother.

"So he is! Wait a minute..." Ella went back into the kitchen, opening a cupboard. She pulled out a bottle, looking at it. Her face reddened, and she looked back at me sheepishly.

"I'm so embarrassed; I gave Fang the wrong pills at dinner. Instead of taking his pain medication, he took the pain medication mixed with a sleeping agent. He won't be awake for hours..."

Iggy smiled wickedly.

"Would now be the time to pull pranks on him and video tape it?"

"Iggy!"

I smiled right back. "No, I agree with Ella. We have to do that right as he wakes up, so we can tape his reaction."

Iggy laughed, setting his things down and rubbing his hands together mischievously.

"So what're we gonna do? I have a few ideas that I came up myself and I'll think they'll be perfect-"

"Do they involve explosives, good sir?"

"They're technically explosives, but they're tiny, I swear. No big deal. No real fire and sparks. I can go just smoke, or lights, or smell. I have a full array of different-"

"Iggy!"

"What?"

"You are not using explosives near my brother!" Ella chastised, though she had a hard time keeping her mouth from turning up.

"Aww c'mon El! Just a little?"

"No! You can't blow up my brother...hahaha!" Ella bent over, realizing just how ridiculous it all was. Iggy and soon joined in, all of us holding our stomachs. After a minute of this, we sobered at the sound of Fang maoning in the room next door. I peeked around the corner at him to see if he was awake. He had a hand to his forehead and he was grimacing. I made my way over to him, perching on the couch next to him.

"Hey hon. How ya doin?"

"Max?" he asked groggily, looking lost.

"Yeah, it's Max. How do you feel?"

"Weird. Dizzy."

"Uh huh. That's cuz Ella accidentally gave you sleepy medicine."

"Well, that's just peachy. I feel drunk. Maybe she spiked my drink, too. Gosh."

I almost bust out laughing. Fang sure sounded drunk. I told Ella and Iggy how funny he was acting, and Ella convinced Iggy to leave him alone while he recovered from his strange state. She gave him incentive be offering to go watch (or...listen to) a movie with him upstairs. They left, giggling as they passed a confused Fang. I sat back down next him, watching as he poked his cheek a couple times.

"What are you doing?"

"I'll feel a little...numb. Why were Ella and Iggy giving me a look?"

"Maybe they did spike your drink and they felt guilty." Fang grinned, apparently finding my comment pretty funny.

"Wanna know a secret?" he said, tilting his head towards me.

"What?"

"I didn't even drink anything. No drink to spike!"

"Look at you, Mr. Detective. Very nicely done," I said, clapping slowly. Fang gave a fake bow, grinning.

"Thank you, thank you."

Fang yawned, and stretched out, slumping even farther and resting his head on my shoulder.

"Are you ti-"

"Yknow, my dad's been gone for a long time."

I didn't reply. I wasn't sure how to.

"Six weeks. Maybe he found someone else to abuse."

Fang's voice was void of the pain I had expected; he was really just considering the idea.

"Maybe he died. Got in a crash and died. I'm horrible, 'cuz I hope he's dead. I don't want him to be living. I would be okay with him dying. I would be okay."

"You're not a horrible person, Fa-"

"No, I'm pretty bad. I would be okay with him dying. It wouldn't bother me at all."

"Yknow? I don't know that it would bother me either."

Fang smiled, his face filled with self hatred.

"Then we're both horrible."

"You think so?"

"Yes."

"Okay. We'll be horrible, then."

"Max?"

"Yeah dude?"

"Don't leave."

"I'm not. I'm stayin' right here."

"Good."

"Max?"

"Hmm?"

Fang held out his arms, like he was hugging the air.

"I love you this much."

I laughed, my cheeks heating up.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. So don't go, okay?"

"Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Fang snuggled up to my side and fell asleep easily. I waited until his breathing was even before laughing in the darkness.

What the heck is in that medicine?

Silly boy.

.

.

That's right! I flipped the script. Everyone makes fun of Max for confessing her undying love for Fang while heavily medicated, so I decided why not mix it up a bit? Bwahahaha! Anyway... LOVE YOU!