Author's Note: I was looking back on this story, and I realize I left it off in a really awkward place. It's like three in the morning, so sorry if it seems kind of weird.
"Cause the hardest part of this
is leaving you."
-"Cancer", My Chemical Romance
"How long?" My voice was pathetic. Weak. Cracking in too many places. Angel and Nudge hugged my knees as though that alone would keep me planted in my skin. I couldn't see Jeb, but I could feel his hands on my neck, running his fingers over the tattoo, like he were trying to rub it away. I couldn't breath.
"Jeb," Fang said. "How long?"
His response was like a fire, burning everything I cared about into ashes.
The next day, I suffered what normal people would call a nervous breakdown.
We're not normal, so I'm not sure what we could call it. A Max-out, or something. Not a breakdown, though. That's for poetic, femme fatale authors with six kids and a one room apartment. No. A Max-out is a perfect term to describe it.
Whatever your calling it, I freaked. Flew off in panicked tears, off into a clearing somewhere, fell into the pine-cone littered grass, and cried my eyes out.
It was dark before I stopped.
"I don't want Max to die," Nudge sobbed, gripping Angel against her side and pounding her little fist on the table top, rattling the unwashed dishes.
Iggy and Gazzy were in a zombie like state of shock, now over their ear splitting shrieks of early stage grief. I watched them sit silently on the sofa.
Max had flew off. Started sobbing, out of no where, flipping things over and pulling at her hair and clawing at her skin like an animal. Scared the shit out of Angel and Nudge. No one went after her, just out of fear she would gauge out eyes out. That was last night, and it six in the morning. I don't think anyone slept.
Today. It's that simple.
"I'm going to look for her," I said, getting up from the table--and the terrible, grieving noises that came out of it.
It was almost time. She shouldn't go alone.
"Tell her I love her," Dr. Martinez whispered, hugging a sniffling Ella to her chest. "Tell her we all do."
My heart was like a tether ball, pounding against my ribcage so hard I'm surprised something didn't snap. The sky was orange with a rising sun, peaking out from in between the tree branches.
I twitched my head, and saw him standing there, a lone dark figure in a bright, sunny world. It wass oddly comforting.
He sat down beside me, and wrapped his arms around my shoulder, so that my face was pressed up against his chest. Just like that. No greetings, no words of freaking wisdom, words of comfort. Just...that.
I think I started crying again, because he was making shushing noises, like I was a child who'd scabbed her knee. I didn't care. Life sucked right now. I just didn't care.
"After all this," I whispered into his shoulder, "after everything we've been through. I go like this."
He didn't say anything, but I felt his muscles twitch and his back shake. Was he crying too?
"It'll be you too," I cried--more screamed--shoving my fist into his arm. "Your the closest to my age. None of us...we're mistakes Fang. Disposable. It's gonna be all of us...Nudge'll never be a famous movie star. Angel...God, she'll be all by herself..."
Yeah, he was crying. Softly, quietly, but he was. He knew it. We were like milk. We've been served, now we're rotten and moldy, just sitting there. They can't leave us running around.
We sat there for a while, like an hour, before I started to feel something.
Like a sudden shock to my heart, and a jab to my abdomen. A pang of pressure pressed against my scalp.
I gasped, and shook some more. Fang felt it.
"God, no," he whispered against my hair.
My breath felt restricted, and spots danced in my eyes like bugs.
I love you, I want to scream, I love you. I love all of you. You don't deserve this.
My God, it's cold.
"Fang," I whispered, my voice shaking.
It was not dramatic, and no other words were exchanged. It was just a matter of something being there, and then nothing. Darkness. Fang was gone.
I had expired like old milk.
A/N Good lord, this is crap.