Like You by Kiseki-no-neko

Like You

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Disclaimer: Yeah, right, I so totally own MR, all hail the queen…pffft, in my dreams maybe. I also don't own Like You, that is by Evanescence (who rawks out loud btw), aka, not me –pouts-.

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By: Bunny-chan

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Author's Notes

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Because apparently, I cannot write a F/N fic without the angst, although I try, I reeeally really try, honestly. Though if anybody WANTS a F/N fic that is fluffy, I can most certainly try again…though it'll probably still have some angst, I can't go cold turkey, sorry. I apologize for any OOC, angst will do that to a person, yo. Anywho, this, once again, takes place four years after SOF, and maybe has something to do with my prior MR fic, though this is by all means not a sequel to it, so don't take it as that, it's also a one-shot, so no begging for an update, you won't get it. And apologies if my math is off, I don't do math, so blame Google, damnit.

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I long to be like you

Lie cold in the ground like you

There's room inside for two and I'm not grieving for you

I'm coming for you

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Fang stared blankly up at the night sky, trying to remember to breathe. Four months, four months, it had been four months once the clock had struck midnight, and he had been out here for two hours. Worst of all, it was her birthday, her 17th birthday, and she couldn't even be around to enjoy it. "Fang."

He didn't bother turning around to face the voice, there wasn't a point. The voice sighed, and a gentle hand was placed on his shoulder, even as his mind screamed not to touch him. "Fang, you need to come inside."

He frowned deeply, contemplating what the voice said. Why would he have to go inside? What was inside that wasn't out here? His eyes followed a flake of snow as it fell to the ground, melding in with the snow already there. Well, he supposed that could be a reason the voice would want him to go inside, considering it was below freezing, snowing, and he wasn't even wearing a coat, not that it mattered, he couldn't feel the cold. "Look, you really need to come inside, you'll catch your death out here, especially with no coat." Catch your death, now that thought sounded vastly more comforting than it really should, and if his mind were functioning properly, he'd probably be just a little worried.

The voice hesitantly spoke up again; weighing words carefully, "It's been four months, you know. I know four months doesn't seem like that much time, and maybe it isn't, but-"

Fang whirled around to face the voice, eyes dark and deadly, made all the more menacing by the hair covering them, his voice coming out as a growl, "If you say I need to move on, that it's been long enough, I will hurt you."

The face that went with the voice looked startled, and just a little bit hurt, "I-I wasn't going to say that, I mean…I just…"

Fang glared, his mind working overtime to connect the face and the voice together. Blonde hair whipped around the face, and suddenly he knew. Max. Of course it was her, nobody else would bother him now, nobody else had the courage. Still, for some reason he didn't feel the least bit bad for what he had said to her, after all, he had meant it, four months ago, he would have apologized, now, he just turned his back on her. He could tell, even without looking at her, that she wanted to say something else, but she just sighed, walking back into the house, her boots crunching down the snow.

"That wasn't very nice of you, you know."

He couldn't help but smile, as her warmth descended upon him, her scent and voice clouding his brain, "I don't think I know how to be nice anymore."

"But its Max, she's different."

"She isn't you." And it was true, painfully so, there was no way Max could replace her, it wasn't possible.

A sigh, as gentle as the wind on a summer day, swirled around him, "Don't be like that."

"It's true, you know it is." Arms were wrapped around his waist, as she pressed her cheek to his back, and he placed his hands on top of hers, but didn't dare turn around, or look down at their hands, just stared straight ahead. He couldn't look at her, if he did, she'd leave, vanish as if she were never there, nothing but her scent left in the breeze. He supposed it didn't matter, because he knew exactly how she looked right now, with her dark purple dress, and matching heels, minimum make-up, hair perfectly straight, and soft as silk.

It still wasn't as good as seeing her right in front of his eyes though. But he had done this before, turn around, even peer at her from the corner of his eye, and she was gone in an instant. "I miss you." He whispered.

"I know. I miss you too." Her hands slipped from his, and then slid up his shirt, fingernails dancing over hard muscle, and he clenched his jaw to hold in the moan. Times like this, he couldn't believe she wasn't real, that she wasn't flesh and bone, wasn't alive, his body thought otherwise.

He wanted anything to be able to turn around, to kiss her, to hold her, to make love to her, but he couldn't, and it killed him inside. "Close your eyes." She whispered in his ear, her hair tickling his cheek.

"Why?" He had to ask.

Fingernails dug into his chest, drawing blood, and he relished in the pain, at least it was better than the ever constant numbness, "Just do it." She sighed.

He did as she demanded, and her touch was gentle again; smearing crimson down his skin, "Turn around."

His breath caught in his throat; if he did that, she'd leave him, and he'd rather gouge out his own eyeballs with a rusty spoon then let that happen, "It's okay, just turn around."

He thought it over for a few seconds, what did he have to lose really? If he did turn around and she vanished, she would come back, she always did, even though the visits were taking longer and longer, this time, it had taken an entire month before she had shown up, and he had started to go stir crazy. So he did as she said, "See? I'm still here."

And she was. She was still with him, and he wanted to cry from the relief he felt, and he crushed his lips to hers, whimpering at the feel of her lips, his arms sliding around her waist, pulling her to him, as he deepened the kiss, tongue gliding against hers, relishing in the taste of her. Hands slid from out under his shirt, fingertips stained red, and buried themselves into his hair, she sighed contently into the kiss, and he pulled away, instead kissing her neck, one hand falling from her waist to slide up under her dress, brushing against the silky skin of her thigh.

He didn't need to open his eyes to know where to place his hands, to know which spots to touch to make her moan, he knew her body. "Happy birthday." He gasped into her ear, as she frantically undid his belt.

"Thank you," she moaned, as he tugged down her panties, "Who needs cake and ice cream when I've got the best present right now?"

He laughed; her skin imprinted into what seemed like his very DNA, kissing her tenderly, "You sure know how to inflate a guy's ego."

"Oh honey, your ego was already inflated, I didn't have to do anything." She smirked.

Any other time he'd have a nice, witty comeback, but all he did now was hoist her up, her legs sliding around his waist, dress pushing up her thighs, and she hissed at the sweet, sweet friction. "I love you." He whispered against her chest.

"I love you too, I always will." She whispered right back, hands sliding back up his shirt, and she kissed him deeply.

"Fang!"

He couldn't stop his eyes from flying open, although he tried his damnedest, catching a brief flash of wide, apologetic brown orbs before she vanished, her vanilla and lavender scent left in the air, as always. "No…" He whimpered.

"Fang…" She didn't touch him this time, keeping some distance between them, as if she had known she had taken his angel from him. She took in his disheveled appearance, his mused hair, his shirt partway up, his pants hanging loose on his hips, a gentle perfume washed onto him, her scent, and she had to wonder what the hell was going on.

He whirled to face her, eyes darker, and wild, his body shaking, every atom inside of him vibrating, his mind raging, his heart aching, everything inside of him screaming at his plight, wanting to hurt the blonde in front of him. He took slow, deliberate steps forward, giving her a chance to back away, to turn tail and run, but she didn't, of course she didn't, she was Maximum fucking Ride, and she didn't back down from anyone, not even him, just stared back at him with narrowed eyes.

"You took her away from me." He hissed, his voice sounding unrecognizable, even to himself.

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about, Fang, I just came to check on you, you've been out here for an entire hour since I was last out here." She crossed her arms over her chest, daring at him to make a move.

He snorted, "What do you care?" He paused directly in front of her, staring down at her.

"What makes you think I don't care? I've ALWAYS cared Fang, and you know it."

"Coulda fooled me, what with, you know, breaking up with me and all." He didn't even have it in him to be bitter at her; all he felt was numb, again.

Her eyes softened, "Is THAT what this is about? Oh, Fang…" she sighed.

"Yeah, right," He rolled his eyes, "And I thought I had an ego, don't make this about you, Max, 'cause it isn't." He brushed past her, going into the house, leaving Max bewildered in the cold.

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Two months, it had been two months. 60 days, 87,658 minutes, and 5,259,487 seconds. He stared restlessly at his ceiling, knowing that if he looked into a mirror, he'd see he looked like complete shit. With pale skin, and dark rings under his eyes, he couldn't even recall the last time he had eaten, he just needed to see her again, she was like a heroine fix. He pulled one of his pillows out from under his head, and shoved it onto his face, wondering if he could smother himself with it.

"Don't even think about it, jackass."

He bolted straight up, pillow falling into his lap, catching a quick flash of her before hurriedly closing his eyes, hoping she hadn't left again. "Don't worry yourself, I'm not going anywhere, you can open your eyes."

He slowly opened one eye, and when she didn't vanish, he quickly opened the other one, exhaling slowly, "How?"

She frowned at him, even as she climbed onto his bed, straddling him, "Because you're closer to me than you were before."

He shook his head slowly, trying to concentrate on her words, and not the warmth of her on top of him, "I don't understand."

She rolled her eyes, tracing the faded pink crescent marks on his bare chest, the ones she had caused, that should have healed the next day, but didn't, "It means you're closer to death, duh."

"…Oh, is that it?" That didn't seem so bad; in fact, it seemed pretty damn good at this point.

"Is that…what do you MEAN is that it?!" She screeched, and he winced.

"I mean, dying isn't exactly the worst thing I could think of." His eyes drank in the sight of her, of her hair falling over her shoulder, the scowl on her face, her narrowed eyes, and she looked so damn beautiful.

"You're a dumbass, Fang." She growled, "Why the HELL would you want to die?"

"Why the hell would I want to stay alive?" He countered, "You're not here, so I don't want to be either."

She sighed, pressing her face to his chest, "Fang…can't you get over me? If I were anybody else, you wouldn't be this…this heartbroken."

"But you're not anybody else, you're you, and I need you, more than you could possibly imagine." He lifted her head from his chest; searching her eyes, "Tell me you understand."

"I do…I'd be the same way if the situation was reversed, but God, Fang, I don't want this for you, I want you to live, I want you to be happy." She was pleading with him now.

"I can't be happy unless I'm with you, why can't you get that? There isn't an alive for me unless you're alive too."

Her eyes filled with tears, and she bit her lip, "I can't stop you, but Fang, there's no coming back from this, no reincarnation, or whatever, it's the end of the line, you've gotta know that."

"I get that, and it's worth it, so long as I have you." He captured her lips with his, hands clasping onto her hips, pulling her against him, and as tight as he was holding onto her, she'd surely have bruises, that is, if she were still alive.

She clung to him, rocking her hips against him, hard, causing him to moan into the kiss from the friction. She tore herself from the kiss, just long enough to beg him, "Please, make love to me."

"Gladly." He whispered against her lips, before kissing her again, much more harshly this time. He tugged her dress off, and she rose up just enough to pull down his pants and boxers, and she pressed her forehead to his, "I love you."

"I love you too, always."

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"And you're absolutely, positively, one-hundred percent, totally, completely, truly, fully-"

"Yes, I'm positive I want to do this, trust me."

"What about the others?"

"What about them? They have Max, they don't need me, not like I need you anyway."

"She'll miss you like crazy you know, wonder why you did it, why she didn't see it coming, couldn't stop it…you really wanna cause her that pain?"

"Of course I don't, you know I care about her, but I've said it before, and I'll say it again, she is not you, and I don't need her, I need you, and I hate the fact that it'll cause her even more pain, but…"

"No, its okay, I get it, I just don't want you feeling all guilty, and stuck on this plain."

"Like you were?"

"Who said I was stuck here? Maybe I just wanted to see you."

"Uh-huh."

"Oh shut up, jackass."

"Must you always call me that?"

"It's what you are."

"Gee, thanks, glad to know I'm so very loved."

"You're welcome, and yes, you are."

"You know what?"

"What?"

"I'm kinda scared."

"…the great Fang, scared? My heart be still!"

"Not funny, I'm being serious here!"

"Yeah, I know you are, and I was scared at first too."

"Does it ever…y'know, get better?"

"I don't know, sometimes it was hell, being away from you, sometimes it was just alright, but it was never complete bliss."

"Well, this is completely corny coming from me, but-"

"Oh geez, don't say what I know you're about to say."

"As long as I'm with you, everything's alright."

"Ugh, ignore me then."

"I always do, why stop now?"

"Jackass."

"Love you too."

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Come morning, when Max would go and check on everyone, starting with Angel, and working her way up to Fang, all she would find was an empty room, she would panic, thinking that the Erasers had finally came back, and on instinct alone, she'd check her room, and there he would be. A blissful, peaceful smile on his face, eyes closed, and chest immobile, she would stare and sink to the floor, tears flooding her eyes and she would wonder why she never saw this coming. And in the back of her mind, there floated the scent of vanilla and lavender.

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