The Disbanded: Divided We Stand-Chapter 22

By MyNameIsCAB

---Max's POV---

Fang sat next to me, an icepack over his eye, his other eye closed. We had settled to eat at some diner.

"That guy was an asshole," Cal said, pushing the ketchup towards Fang.

Messina frowned, but Cal didn't give her usual apology for swearing in front of him.

"Yea, no kidding," Fang said, opening his eyes and pouring some ketchup on his plate. "Thanks."

"Yea, no problem." Cal nodded. Then she looked over at Messina who was still frowning. "And he was an asshole, Teddy."

Fang began eating his food, his elbow on the table of the arm holding the icepack on his eye. "I shouldn't have grabbed him."

"You did exactly what I did to you, except I almost killed you and Frank is still alive and well," I tried to say with a smile.

Luckily, Fang found that very amusing and a smile formed across his face.


After our very eventful night, we were all ready to get to sleep.

"Well, goodnight," Messina smiled, his arm around Cal.

"Goodnight," I said, opening the room to my door.


---Fang's POV---

My leg hurt like freaking hell. I needed another pain killer. Looking at the table, the canisters weren't there anymore. Maybe Max had put them away. I couldn't ask her though because she was in the shower right now.

She finally came out. Why does it seem to take forever when girls take showers?

"Have you seen my meds?" I asked.

"No, didn't you leave them on the table?" she asked. "I forgot to pack a shirt. Do you have an extra?"

I hadn't looked at her when she came out of the bathroom. I now realized she had a towel wrapped around her. Reaching for the bag, I pulled out an extra shirt I packed and threw it to her.

"They're not there," I answered after she came out of the bathroom again, buttoning up the shirt. I had to admit, she looked pretty good in at. And maybe, just for a moment, I had become distracted.

"What do you mean they're not there?"

I sighed. "They are not there! Look at the table!"

Max went around the room, pulling everything out of our backpacks, and looking in drawers. My meds weren't anywhere.

"I need a freaking pain killer," I said, grabbing the crutch from the side of our bed and standing up now. "Are you missing anything?"

After looking through our backpacks again, Max shook her head.

"I don't have another refill for my prescriptions because I forgot to call Guerra," I sighed. "Shit."

"Call Guerra on your phone," Max told me. "I'll call the front desk and report the theft. I guess that's what you can call it. And don't kill yourself, here."

She threw my cell phone onto the bed and I sat back down, glad I wasn't going to have to walk across the room. Max sat at the desk and began to phone the front desk. I called Guerra.

"Hello, Nick! It's good to hear from you," Dr. Guerra answered cheerfully.

I told him what happened.

"Hmm…" Dr. Guerra seemed to be thinking. "All right, I can send the prescription to you. Give me an address."

I looked at Max. "He can send it to me, but where?"

Max had finished calling the front desk by now. "I guess the hotel. We'll be here for a while anyway and you'll need it."

I gave Dr. Guerra the hotel address and he wrote it down, saying he would send it first thing in the morning.

Now I sat on the bed, staring at the floor. How was I going to get through the next three days without any of my medication? I'm sure my mood would take a big plunge while my pain climbs a mountain. Just great. Look how screwed I am now.

"So what did the front desk say?" I asked.

"Said that we weren't the only ones reporting that medication had been stolen. The hotel is supposedly running an investigation with everyone who has access to all the rooms," Max answered. "But it's not like we'll get your meds back."

I sighed, lying down trying to forget the fact that I'd probably wait up in excruciating pain tomorrow morning.

"You'll be okay," Max tried to reassure me.

I turned off the lights as she got into bed next to me. "Maybe."


---Max's POV---

I could barely get Fang to get into his wheelchair. He looked miserable today. I didn't know if it was because of him getting punched by Frank or not having his meds. Perhaps it was both.

"Why can't I just stay here?" Fang muttered after he finished changing.

"Because we promised we'd go to the beach with Cal," I said. "Come on, it's almost Christmas. Cheer up."

He sighed, pulling out his bandages to cover the scars on his leg. I see he chose to wear shorts to wear today with a long sleeves button up over a t-shirt. At least he was wearing the t-shirts now.

"Why do you cover up the scars?" I asked after he had finished some fifteen minutes later. "Why go through all the trouble?"

"Because looking at them makes me think about everything I could have been," Fang replied, using some sort of sticker to make the end of the bandage stay in place.

I felt bad for him. Fang getting shot was partly my fault because I had let the eraser do it. Of course I had hurt him again when I acted irrationally about the scars on his arms.

Maybe a lot of Fang's suffering was my fault.