It had been a week since Max had been breathing on her own, yet she still hadn't opened her eyes. Fang stayed faithfully by her side, his hand always holding hers tenderly. The bruises on her body had healed, and the horrific wound to her stomach was over halfway healed. The scar it would leave behind would be gruesome, and it would hurt Fang every day to look at it. But he figured that since it was himself who'd almost killed Max that he deserved it.

Max sighed and groaned a little, tightening her fingers around his for a moment. Then she relaxed, her wing twitching before it stilled. Fang was happy when Jeb had reported that both of her wings would be fine, and that she'd be flying around in no time…if only she'd wake up.

Fang bit his bottom lip and held her hand a little tighter, watching her eyes for any sign of opening. She stayed still, though, her chest moving up and down regularly. It was that reflexive movement that kept Fang hopeful.

There was a slight knock on the door before it opened, Angel peeking her head of gold curls into the room. Fang motioned her in and she closed the door behind her, showing Fang a few sandwiches that she'd brought in with her.

"I thought you might be hungry," Angel said, handing over the food to him. Fang took the sandwiches.

"Thanks," Fang told her, taking a bite of the first sandwich. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten, and his stomach grumbled in approval as he wolfed down the sandwiches in record time. Angel settled at the foot of the bed, one of her hands resting on Max's; Fang had let go for a moment to eat.

"How's she doing?" Angel asked, her eyes staying glued to Max's face. Fang shrugged, trying to hide the hurt in his eyes.

"She still hasn't woken up."

Angel nodded, focusing intently on something. She smiled a little bit. "She's stuck in a dream," Angel reported, looking at Fang expectantly. Fang had frozen—she was stuck in a dream? How could that be a good thing?! And yet Angel continued to look at him with a smile on her face. She must have read the expression on his face because Angel's smile wavered. "Maybe those were the wrong words to choose," she said.

"Yeah, maybe," Fang agreed, his voice low.

"Well…hm…she's having a dream—about you."

Fang startled. What did that have to do with anything? Angel read his mind and nodded. "Honest. She's very happy, I can sense it." Fang's heart pounded a little and his eyes focused on Max. "She'll wake up soon," Angel promised.

With that Angel stood up and left the room, only to be replaced by Iggy a moment later. "Hey, man," Iggy greeted with a nod in Fang's general direction. Iggy made his way to Max's side and smiled. "Her heart's doing great, eh? And did Angel just say she'd wake up soon? That's great." Iggy's smile lit up his face and Fang couldn't help but smile back. His cheeks protested a little—it had been a while since he'd smiled.

"It's amazing," Fang said, stroking Max's fingers with his own. Iggy looked towards Fang.

"How are you doing?" he asked, knowing what Fang was going through. Fang sighed.

"I'm…dealing," he said quietly, his eyes never leaving Max's face. He pushed some hair off of her face and sat up. He offered nothing else, but Iggy gently put his hand on Fang's shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

"You'll be okay," Iggy said reassuringly. "And remember," he added before leaving the room, "it was not your fault."

Fang's shoulders stiffened—he could not entirely believe that, not matter how many times he heard it.

"Really," Iggy pressed, stepping further back into the room. "You had no control over yourself. You're not to blame."

Fang shrugged, not bothering to correct Iggy. He'd had this argument many times but nobody seemed to listen to him. Even though he really couldn't remember everything, he still should've known Max. There was no excuse for the fact that he'd overlooked her and believed a ridiculous lie.

Iggy sighed but offered nothing else, knowing it was useless. He figured Max would wake up soon, like Angel had said, and she'd fix Fang's heart. Max knew that he was not to blame, and Iggy guessed that at this point she was the only one Fang would listen to. At some point, Fang would have to forgive himself. With a last hesitant step, Iggy left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

Throughout the last week or so there had been many visitors, all coming and going. Fang was the only one who slept in a small chair in Max's room, never leaving her side except to shower, use the bathroom, and every now and then stretch his wings out. He never stayed out too long, never wanting to miss the first time she opened her eyes. He wanted to be the first one she saw—if she rejected him, at least he'd get the sharp stab of pain over with. He could understand if she no longer wanted to be with him; he'd live with it if it was what she wanted. But he still wanted to be with her, more than anything.

Fang…

His heart leapt as he leaned over her; he was sure he'd heard her say his name. It was a whisper, but it was definitely her. However, as his eyes locked onto her face, Max's eyes never opened. He leaned back, totally disappointed. It was happening; he'd finally gone crazy and was hearing what he wanted to hear.

"F…Fang…"

He froze. That was no illusion—she'd said his name. Fang looked down at Max and saw that she was moving a little more than usual, her eyes fluttering as she attempted to open them. Finally, after what seemed like hours, she squeezed his hand and opened her eyes. They stayed open, her brown ones focusing on his hazily as she tried to adjust to the light of the room. He stared down at her, full of so much relief that he started crying again, silent tears that acted on their own. She looked at him, confused.

"Wha-…what happened?" she asked, her voice raspy, and she coughed a little, putting her free hand to her stomach as she winced. Fang didn't answer, so she looked up at him. Clarity filled her eyes. "Oh, Fang. It's not your fault," Max said, reaching up a hand shakily to cup his cheek. She was very weak, and her hand would have slid from his cheek if he hadn't put his hand on top of hers and held it there.

"Max," Fang said slowly, leaning in. "Do you still….I mean, I'll understand, after what I did. I can't…" he didn't know how to fraise anything, his pain making his voice deeper than usual. He'd been waiting for so long to see her awake, to hear her voice, and he was blowing it!

"Shh…" Max said quietly, her own eyes filling with tears. "You're you again," she said gently, a smile playing at her lips. With that, she sat up a little and closed the distance between their lips. Fang kissed her very carefully—she was still very frail. After a moment she sat back, her eyes bright.

"You still want to be with me?" Fang asked finally. "After everything? Max, I'm so sorr—"

Max cut him off. "It was not your fault," she said, her voice shaking as she strained to make herself heard. It had been a while since she'd spoken and her throat was a little raw. "It was never your choice. And as for being with you?" She paused for a moment, wincing as she swallowed. Fang quickly passed her a small glass of water he'd kept by her bedside table and she drank it happily. "Of course I still want to be with you, you dope!" She told him, sounding like herself already. She smiled and took hold of his shirt, pulling it gently until he got the hint and met her mouth with his own, smiling as he kissed her.

She still wanted to be with him. After everything he'd done to her, she still wanted him. He gently stroked her scar and she gasped a little but did not pull away. He nuzzled her neck, kissing it gently.

"I love you," he whispered. She put her arms around him in a fragile embrace.

"Always," she said quietly.

Thanks for reading and review please! Hope you enjoyed!

Falling Rose Petals