Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, but I do own the plot! (evil laugh) (hides from lawyers)

When Fang had finished dealing with my vast collection of cuts and bruises, I forced him to clean the cut on his forehead, and another on the side of his leg. I still felt like a vat of emptiness in terms of emotion, but, hey, if he was going to take care of me, it didn't hurt to return the favor.

As he busied himself cataloging our supplies, I stretched my wings out gingerly. A sharp pain shot out from my shoulder blades and I inhaled sharply. Fang turned his head and looked at me; I waved my hand noncommittally. When he had returned to counting band-aids, I gritted my teeth and slowly folded my wings in. My eyes watered with the pain.

It would be better soon, I convinced myself. And if it wasn't, it didn't really matter. On the outskirts of this wasteland that had once been a city, missing four of the flock, I didn't really feel the need to fly. I could sit here and slowly turn to dust for all I cared.

Fang had finished with our medical supplies and was now going through his store of food. I had always teased him about carrying so much junk with him at all times, but now it was starting to seem increasingly convenient. Currently, he seemed to be removing a large selection of rotted fruit.

I was still focused on the flock. Nudge, the Gasman, and Angel had been together. Angel had known about the explosion far enough in advance to send out a warning, but her voice had cut off mid-sentence. I didn't want to think about what that could mean. Iggy had been in the center of the city, working. Fang and I had only survived because we'd been flying by the outskirts. How could Ig have gotten out in time?

My reverie was interrupted by an overripe peach landing in my lap. I looked at Fang blankly. "Hungry?" he asked, a rare smile playing on his lips.

I examined the peach. It was swollen, seeping juice, and giving off an overly sweet stench.

"I was kidding," Fang said quietly.

This simple exchange seemed to pull emotion into my body, and suddenly I was angry, scared, exhausted, and devastated all at once.

"What makes you think that this is an appropriate time for kidding?" I asked, pouring all of my newfound feelings into one sentence. This was not nearly as impressive as it sounds: my voice was tired, quavering, and pathetic, with just a spark of anger swirled into the mixture.

Fang knelt next to me, laying his hand lightly on my shoulder. "I'm sorry," he said. "I just-"

"You just what, Fang?" I brushed away his hand and stood suddenly. He looked up at me from the ground.

I continued. "The rest of the flock is missing, maybe even dead, and you're playing jokes? We should be doing something! We should…" Here I trailed off, unsure of exactly what we should be doing.

Fang rose slowly, as if he was afraid I might start yelling again. He took a few tentative steps toward me and then folded me into his arms. As always, it took a few seconds for him to relax, but his shoulder softened and I buried my face in the fabric of his sweatshirt. I didn't cry- I had learned to control my emotions over the years. Fang's hand grazed over my wing joints, and I flinched involuntarily at the burst of pain.

"What's wrong?" he asked suddenly.

I mumbled incoherently into his shoulder. He ran his hand over my shoulder blades again, more purposefully, and I failed to suppress my reaction. Fang pushed me away gently so that he could look at my face, silently demanding an explanation.

"It's nothing."

"Max…" he persisted.

"I… When, you know, it… happened…" He nodded, understanding that I meant the explosion. "Well…"

"Max," he said again, warning me.

"My wings kind of folded against me the wrong way and they hurt," I blurted out quickly.

"Could you repeat that?"

I told him again, slowly, watching the concern etch itself onto Fang's face as I spoke. My words sounded pathetic and childish to my own ears.

"Let me see," he said, his voice tense. I took off my jacket, careful not to brush my wings with the fabric. I hadn't folded them all of the way back in, just tucked them loosely between the fabric of my shirt and my coat. I extended them slightly, gritting my teeth against the discomfort.

Fang stood behind me. I couldn't see his face, and he was quiet, but there was a sort of uneasiness in the air. His hand squeezed my shoulder gently. It was meant to be reassuring, but the idea that he felt the need to reassure me just made me worry more.

"Fang?" I asked, hearing the edge in my own voice.

He didn't say anything, just ran his hand lightly from my shoulder down my arm, over and over again. I began to think that maybe I hadn't said anything at all; that I was just imagining things. Now that I thought about this, nothing seemed real. The ruins, the black smoke, the pain… What if it was all in my head? I wished I could just open my eyes and be in the bakery, surrounded by my sleeping flock; I wished this would just all be a bad dream.

But then a burst of pain flooded my body again. It started at my shoulder blades, where my wings were joined with my back, and shot to the tips of wings and down my spine. There was no way I was dreaming. Pain is real.

"Fang?" My voice was stronger.

"Something's broken."

I suddenly felt very cold. I tucked my shaking hands under my arms to warm them.

"I doubt I could set a wing," Fang said, sounding defeated. "I don't know what I could do."

"I'm cold," I mumbled.

Fang handed me my jacket, and I could see that his hands were stained with my blood. I folded my wings back in as tightly as I could without straining them and slid my arms into the sleeves. Despite the extra layer, I was still shaking. My numb hands fumbled with the zipper.

I could feel Fang watching me and I looked up at him, seeing the pity in his eyes. He pulled me closer to him and zipped my jacket with his own steady hands. Traitorous tears blurred my vision as he wrapped his arms around me for the second time. I still shivered as he held me, but I didn't cry.

Author's Note: Sorry this took so long, but I was gone for a while and then I had a lot of homework and then I wasn't quite sure what I wanted to do with Max and Fang while I held the other three in suspense... I've got a pretty good idea of what I'm doing next, so it shouldn't take as long for me to update again. I hope all you faxness lovers liked this chapter... But there's blood and gore in there too.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed: RippedIntoPieces, Scarrlet Fang Limit the First, disneydork, therealme1123, DieMFDie, FlamingFlie, aradiea, Angel of the Black Death, unknown, and senoritasophia13!

To anyone who want more of the depressing romance stuff, I have a oneshot up called The Rift which I'm actually quite proud of. It also contains blood and gore and angst and all of that good stuff. And it's much better than my last oneshot (Colorblind).

Thanks for reading, please review, or I might not update for a really loooong time...