AN- This is set kind of between MR2 and MR3, as the Erasers still exist. The title is from an Editors song ('the Wight of the World'- check it out!), and the lyrics at the end from Simon & Garfunkel's I Am A Rock. Hope you like it :)

We were on a beach. I know we don't exactly have a brilliant track record as far as beaches go, but the combined forces of Angel, Nudge and Gazzy had eventually persuaded me otherwise, so we had found a beach which lay at the bottom of a hundred foot tall cliff face: totally deserted, my favourite kind.

I stretched tiredly and closed my eyes, ready for the much needed sleep that should soon be heading my way. The sounds of Angel and Gazzy playing happily in the water reached my ears, and I could clearly hear Nudge rambling on to Iggy, Fang and Total about the five minutes of Grey's Anatomy she'd seen on some TV a while ago, and I laughed as I pictured the three rolling their eyes and stifling yawns as the pros and cons of 'McDreamy' and 'McSteamy' were explained to them.

The Sun shone lazily in the sky, its warm rays relaxing me further. I guess I must have fallen asleep around then, and when I woke up a few hours later, the sky was darkening and shadowy clouds loomed on the horizon. The younger kids were still playing in the water, Fang and Iggy watching them carefully, and Total yelped loudly as Angel splashed him with a handful of water. I stood up.

"Guys," I called. They unwillingly made their way over to where I was stood at the foot of the cliff. "I know you're not going to be too happy about this, but I think we'd better go find somewhere to crash for the night; it looks like it's going to rain pretty soon."

They (reluctantly) agreed, and we were just about to take off when Angel and Iggy froze. Erasers.

How many? I thought in my head, and Angel replied quickly.

20. They're mad, Max, 'cause we got away from Anne's.

OK, sweetie, 30 should be no problem. We'll have them wrapped up in no time, I thought confidently as I threw my bag down behind one of the rocks, and motioned for everyone to follow suit.

"Right, you all know what to do. If we get split up, wait an hour or so and head for the beach we saw ten miles north, OK?" They nodded obediently and the Erasers began to descend awkwardly.

Still got wing issues then.

I rose quickly and took out 2 or 3 on my way up; they snarled at me as they fell towards the now grey, stormy water 20 feet below. Another couple fell victim to my elbows as I broke both their noses and swirled to kick the bigger one in the, well, you know. I took this opportunity to scan the surrounding area and see how the others were doing.

Angel was sat on the edge of the cliff, laughing scarily as Eraser after Eraser flew at her and plummet to their rocky demises. Nudge and Gazzy were fighting together and were doing very well for it; the Erasers around them were eying them warily and turning their attentions to Iggy instead, the obvious target, not that any of them managed to touch him. Fang fought, as usual, quietly but fiercely, his eyes glinting dangerously as he looked over in my direction. I flashed him a quick smile and concentrated on two particularly lopsided Erasers who were heading straight for me. I don't want to sound boastful or anything, but these two took less than half a minute to deal with, and I laughed in their faces as they flew away. Big mistake.

Of course, I only realised this as I was whacked round the head, hard. A stream of expletives escaped my mouth and I heard Fang shout from below.

"MAX! Behind you!" he yelled, but it was too late.

The Eraser who'd hit me summoned two of his remaining allies and I winced as one of them decided to dislocate my shoulder. Well, more than winced, if I'm honest, but you probably guessed as much. I tried desperately to fight back, remembering bitterly the many lessons Jeb had given us in self-defence when we were younger but not actually doing anything with my knowledge. Another swipe, this time across the back of my neck, made me aware that I was beginning to lose consciousness, not that this stopped them. Positively encouraged them if anything. The stocky one I'd noticed Gazzy fighting earlier kicked me hard and his friend took a shiny silver blade out of his pocket and pierced my thick leather jacket several times.

This was it, I thought as my eyes were pulled closed by the final heavy blow to my face. I'd like to think I fell gracefully into the water, although even Iggy would have disagreed.

That water! It was as icy now as it had been warm earlier, which proved to be a blessing as I was pulled back into full consciousness, but the water was so dark I had no idea where the surface could be, or where the bed where many of the Erasers we'd destroyed earlier was either.

Think, Maximum, my Voice chimed in helpfully. I let out the same string of expletives as I had let out earlier, and gagged as I swallowed sea-water. I needed to get to the surface, didn't I?

It may have been the lack of oxygen, or my oh-so-attractive pessimistic streak, but suddenly I felt a rush of weariness and indifference wash over me. Why should I fight the sea? It's not like it would have been any great loss; only five people in the whole world were aware of my existence, and they'd get on fine without me. My thoughts soon drifted away, and I realised that everything seemed to be shutting down, I could barely hear or see anything, but was very aware of the steady slowing of my heartbeat as I drifted down into the sea's depth.

Fang looked around him; the last of the Erasers had gone, but where was Max? The others had gone on to the other beach, leaving him anxiously scanning his surroundings.

"Max!" he bellowed into the evening sky. The Sun that had shined so happily on them earlier was beginning to set, bathing the sea in its orange light. Red in some places, a deep, crimson red, spreading out in a circle by the rocks about a mile out.

He knew instinctively that she was there, and he flew as fast as he could, trying desperately to block the thoughts screaming through his mind. A beat-up purple shoe floated on the surface where the blood lay. It was Max's shoe.

Fang took a deep breath and dived into the salty, red water. He swam down as far as could, swam until his lungs ached for air, until- there! - he saw her, and dragged he desperately to the surface. He held her close to him until they landed on the beach, where he laid her gently on the soft white sand.

Her body was still, pulse weak, yet her face was struck with a look of intense peacefulness, made all the more beautiful by the Sun's soothing light. She couldn't be dead; wouldn't be dead, but this did not stop Fang from leaning over her fragile form and whispering softly to her, stroking her face. She stirred a little as he did this, and tried to sit up. She struggled for breath and spent the next few moments coughing and spluttering several litre's worth of seawater before she felt capable of speech. She tried again to sit up, and this time Fang pulled her up carefully so she was leant against his side.

"I'm so glad you're alive, Max," he said quietly, and, for the first time since, well, forever, Max watched in horror as Fang, the Rock, burst into tears.

And a rock feels no pain.

And an island never cries.