Don't

Song: Never Too Late by Three Days Grace

(A/N: I was working on Riot, but I got sidetracked...yeah, I've got undiagnosed ADD. I'n pretty certain)

Iggy

Max shuddered. When she breathed, she was fragile . She was thinner, weaker. It was still hard to grasp...she was not Max, not the Max we had known for so many years. Somehow, even though everyone else still kept hoping she'd turn normal soon, I knew that she'd never be the same again. It was my turn to watch her, to be on Max-watch. Yeah, I know what you're thinking. Letting the blind kid watch someone? If you had met me, you would understand. I opened the door to Max's room to find her frozen, a cracked, sharp slice of glass poised above the delicate skin of her wrist. I sensed all this.

"Max, no." I whispered, my voice low and forbidding.

She dropped the glass. "It hurts, Iggy. You wouldn't understand."

It's true. I wouldn't. I crept next to her and she leaned her head on my shoulder. Her emotions were outward now. All the breaking points that she had danced alone, she had now fallen over. She had been broken. Even the strongest can fall prey to harm. They're not infincable. Sure, they may seem so. But often the bravest, most amazing lives burned sharp and short, like a single staccato note of music. Long enough for memory, short enough for regrets.

"Why'd he do it?" Max wondered aloud, sounding shallow and empty. I sighed and ran my fingers through her silky brown locks.

"Maybe he wanted to protect you." I suggested. Max blinked.

"He can't protect me by leaving." she responded.

"I know that, and you know that. But he's just him." I admitted.

"Him...so perfect...not mine anymore. What did I do?" she asked, casting a regrettable glance at the shard of glass laying abandoned on the carpet. Would she really end her life? Questions welled up into my brain. I turned Max's head towards mine. Staring as close as I could her eyes, a memory flicked into my mind. Fang had told me that he really loved Max. Foolishly I believed him. But perhaps his actions were out of sheer ignorance, not purpose. Maybe Dylan influenced his decision. My lip curled back involuntarily. Dylan. Max's dejected sigh cut me from my daydream.

"Max, what did you love most about...Fang?"

Her shoulders slumped when I said his name. An iridescent tear trickled down her cheek, which was pale from never leaving the house.

"Everything."

I swallowed. She wasn't lying, I could feel.

"Iggy," Max began, licking her lips, "I could end the pain."

"Wha- how?"

"I could kill myself. Or you could. Anyone."

"Max..."

"No, I'm serious. It's crushing, pressing, bleeding me dry. I can't live like this. Maybe it would be best if I didn't live... at all."

I heard the lie in her words. She didn't want to die. The time on her digital clock read that my shift was over. I got up soundly and slipped out the door, but not before casting two last words behind me.

"Don't, please." They were desperate, pleading, begging.

Afterword, the silence spoke volumes.