I hope you are not disappointed with this chapter, because it's really short and I don't think it's one of my best. But if you don't like it, don't worry-the next will be much better, I promise!! *a special thanks to Foxy Sox for pointing out to me that I didn't explain why Max and Fang were fighting to begin with--I hope you satisfied by my explanation of it! Keep on reviewing, please!*
Chapter 5
Working together, Fang and Iggy pulled Max out of the flaming cabin. Once certain that she was out of imminent danger, Fang hoisted himself out of the hole with a lift from Iggy.
Immediately he scrambled to Max's side. He felt her pulse again. It was still way too faint, and she was still totally out. Scooping her up in his arms once again, Fang leapt off the roof and flew down to the ground, Iggy right behind him. Nudge, Angel and the Gasman met them as soon as their feet touched down, tears streaking their cheeks, worry on their faces.
Fang gently laid Max down on the cool grass, falling to his knees beside her. He cupped her face in both of his hands.
"Max?" he said loudly and clearly. "Max, sweetie, wake up! Please!" He was holding back tears as he shook her gently, trying to wake her. Fang had never cried a day in his life: Not when he was almost beaten to death on the beach, when the pain was almost unbearable; Not when he realized for the first time that Jeb was never coming back; Not even at Ari's funeral, with his arms wrapped around a sobbing Max and seeing the tear-streaked faces of the rest of the flock.
He'd never shed one tear in his life before, that he could remember. But he felt about to cry now.
"Max!" Still no response. "Maximum! Please, Max, wake up!" He brushed away a few stray strands of hair that were plastered to her smooth skin. "Max, come on, please wake up!" He clasped one of her hands in both of his, holding it tightly to his chest. "You can't leave us now, Max! We need you. I need you." He raised her fingers to his lips and softly kissed them, still clutched in his own hands.
It was all his fault. If Max…if she…died—he could barely even think the word—Fang could never live with himself. If only he hadn't started that stupid fight. And it really was stupid, thinking back on it—Max's next "brilliant" plan to defeat Itex was, in short, to risk all of their lives in a foolish ambush of Itexicon headquarters. Fang hadn't agreed to it, and everything got blown way out of proportion, ending with the two of them screaming in each other's faces and Fang eventually blowing her off. If he had been here, he would have stopped her from going back for their bags. She would be up and going right now, ordering them around and already panning their next move.
Max was his best friend, his partner in crime—he would do anything for her, and she for him. Life without Max would be like…like a burger without cheese. Or Total without the whole being-able-to-speak-thing. Life without Max would not be worth living.
Fang almost jumped when he felt her hand twitch in his.
"Max?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Relief flooded through every fiber of his being as he watched her eyes squeeze tight, as if in pain, before finally opening a crack.
She squeezed his hand tightly, and Fang felt a tug on his heart.
Max was alive. She was all right. Everything was going to be okay.