It's Not That Kind of Thing – Chapter 1
By MyNameIsCAL

Originally I was going to kill Iggy in Love is Blind, but seeing as I couldn't drag out the story much longer, I figured I'd take the whole Iggy dying and Fang having to again confront his true feelings for Max would make a better story on it's own, plus now I'll give Dylan a chance with Max, as much as I dislike them being together, he's not necessarily a bad guy for her.

Well, guess we'll just forget about everything that happens in Angel and what not. The characters are just sort of here. I don't quite have the patience to deal with all the new characters that were introduced in Angel, and the plot from that, along with Fang leaving in the end of Fang doesn't quite fit for what I have planned here. So basically I'll just explain whatever happened in the past as the story goes on. Don't worry about trying to fit it in from the series.

Anyway, we'll start with Max's POV, then shift to Fang's, and alternate each chapter. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!

-Max's POV-

I had never seen Fang cry before in my life, but when Iggy finally said his last words and his hand went limp in Fang's, tears flew like waterfalls.

No words were spoken. Nothing, just silence from the flock to accompany Fang's sobs. I closed my eyes and leaned against Dylan, his arm around me. He was biting his lip, but I gave in and closed my eyes, letting the tears roll down my cheeks.

Things had happened too fast. It started with headaches, but headaches turned into migraines, which soon became unbearable for Iggy. The last month had been painful to watch Fang flounder helplessly as the doctor discovered Iggy had a brain tumor and that there was nothing we could do about it.

They were supposed to get married next week, but under the circumstances, we ended up having them get married in Iggy's hospital room. We shared a few laughs and a few smiles, but at the end of the night, as I was the last to leave Fang and Iggy, you could tell that they were drained of everything but exhaustion.

I pulled myself together and glanced around the room. Dylan had his eyes closed. He and Fang had always been at odds, but mostly because Dylan was angry at him for hurting me, and although they had their differences, Fang had started to warm to him being accepted into the flock.

Angel had stepped out of the room. She could read all our thoughts, feel everything we were going through. I could only imagine how overwhelming that could be. Nudge was crying into Gazzy's shoulder, but he sat there, staring at Iggy and Fang, a shocked expression on his face, unsure of what to make of any of this.

The next few hours were a blur, and I found myself sitting in Fang's kitchen, the faint smell of Iggy's cooking still lingering even though it had been months since Iggy had last been home.

"You should go home to Dylan." Fang's voice came out hoarse. "He might…he might get the wrong idea."

I wanted to laugh at the absurdity. Even Dylan wasn't that paranoid.

"Are you sure you'll be alright?" I managed to ask.

He leaned heavily against the table. "For now."

Reluctantly, I let him lead me to the front door. He was too much of a gentleman, and it hurt to think that Iggy and him had so much more going for them. I wanted to cry all over again, but I resisted the urge and took off, letting the wind push back my tears.

Iggy requested he be cremated, and it wasn't a surprise. It had pained Fang a lot to sit and go through the process of getting all the paperwork done, and by law in order to scatter the ashes to the ocean, we had to be three miles from the coast.

We met at the dock where the boat company that specialized in scattering ashes at sea was based. Fang held the urn, eyes red. He had watched the cremation himself, and I had offered to come, but he said it was something he had to do alone. Iggy's ring now rested on a chain against chest. His eyes avoided mine as I approached him.

"I've decided…" He swallowed. "We'll scatter half of them."

The cold stung as the boat set out, wind against us. It was almost the middle of autumn now, but at least the sun was out. He sat out on the deck, asking us if he could be alone.

"I've never seen him so upset before." Nudge shook her head, hands planted in her lap.

"He's still upset he couldn't do it on the beach," Angel muttered.

The captain of the ship anchored us a short while later. We could still see the coastline here. Fang had asked if we could at least put ourselves three miles from the beach Iggy and he frequented. He rose, still holding the urn, and we started to head out onto the deck.

"I'll have the coordinates written down for you," the Captain said quietly. "Take your time. There's no rush to head back."

Fang leaned up against the railing, eyes closed. I took the first steps closer to him.

"I'm not ready for this, Max," he murmured. "I can't let go, not this fast."

"Fang…"

"The last time I went to the beach with Iggy, I had to practically carry him across the sand, but it made him so happy just to sit there and take in everything." Fang sucked in a breath. "He said…He said, 'Fang, when I'm gone, scatter my ashes here. That way if you ever leave, if you ever decide to take a new adventure somewhere else, I'd still be able to meet him at the ocean, even if I was on the other side of the world."

He leaned against me, trembling. "And then he pulled me into a kiss, mustering all the strength he could. He held me as I cried, as I sobbed about how unfair this all was. Then he promised me that everything would be okay, that I'd find someone else after he was gone, but I told him to stop talking like that, that the doctors would find a way to save him. How could I be such a fool to give myself false hope like that? He had been ready from the start to say goodbye, but me, I'm still hoping for a miracle."

I pulled my arms around him, and he buried his face into my shoulder. Usually it was him comforting me about whatever, and I didn't have the words to comfort him, but I didn't think he wanted to hear them anyway.

When the tears stopped, him wiped his eyes and turned back to the urn, taking off the cover. We each took a handful, and the wind took it off, to the water, and maybe even almost back towards the beach. Fang finished with the rest, and then we headed back into the cabin, sitting in silence.

"I'd like you to come over for dinner," Fang said. "I made some food."

Dylan was the only one who wasn't choking on their words. "Of course, Fang."

The urn rested above the mantel. We sat and ate in the sitting room, the TV on the news, but on mute. Fang lit the fireplace, even though it was still probably too warm. I knew Iggy loved that fireplace, and insisted that they still burn wood instead of changing out to a gas one. He said it smelled different.

The food Fang had made were recipes Iggy had left for him. He had come across the book when going through some drawer the other night. We pretty much ate without talking, a weight growing on us. Fang picked at his food, looking unsatisfied, glancing away from us every now and then. I wanted to go over to him and hug him, and promise things would be okay. But things had changed between us too, and even though he was there for me whenever I needed him, I could not do all those things in return.

Gazzy and Nudge were the first to leave. Simply because Nudge was drained and Gazzy no longer knew how to act around Fang. I knew he wanted to ask Nudge to marry him, but now that Iggy had gone and he and Fang had only been married for barely a week, Gazzy deemed it inappropriate.

"You guys don't have to stay here." Fang cleared his throat, finally finishing all the food on his plate. "I'm okay, really."

"You'll call if you need anything?" Angel asked hesitantly.

He nodded.

I took the empty plates to the kitchen and put them in the sink.

"Max…" Dylan came with the other plates, placing them in the sink. "Maybe we should stay here and make sure he's really alright."

"It'll only make him feel worse," I muttered.

"Then why don't you stay? I'll go home with Angel. Besides, she's got to head back to school tomorrow." Dylan pulled me into a hug. "Besides, Max, I may not like him as much as the rest of you do, but we're family right? And I know he needs you more than ever right now."

I closed my eyes, squeezing him back. "Alright, Dylan."

Fang led us to the front door, holding it open. Angel stood in front of him, and threw her arms around him.

"I'm so sorry, Fang," she whispered. "I wish…I wish I could change things."

He hugged her back, looking like he might start crying. "Don't be. There was nothing you could do."

She gave him a small smile and then exited the house. Dylan paused briefly in front of Fang, shifting his weight between his feet.

"I'll never have the right things to say to you, but I truly am sorry." He patted Fang on the shoulder and closed the door behind him.

Fang's eyes fell to the floor. "You're staying?"

"I don't think you're in any state in being left alone," I admitted.

He turned away from me. "I guess Dylan has changed."

We sat in front of the fireplace and on the couch. The fire was dying out now, and Fang had his eyes fixated on it, as though he might be able to keep the fire alive with his gaze and give some hope that it was all a bad dream and Iggy would come bursting into the room.

I remembered the last time I was here. It was right before Iggy got moved to the hospital. Iggy had been lying the couch asleep, his head propped up against Fang's leg as a pillow. Fang had been sitting there, staring at the fire as Iggy slept, hand going through Iggy's hair slowly.

"I wish it were me instead," Fang had whispered to Iggy.

And I suddenly wished it had been me instead, so at least Fang and Iggy would have each other to cling onto. Dylan would have found other ways to cope. Or perhaps he would have simply left.

The phone rang, startling both Fang and me. He jolted off the couch, walking to the phone that was placed precisely on the edge of the table next to the door that led to the kitchen. I looked around the room, hoping to find some kind of distraction. This place was cleaner than my house, and mostly because it had to be that way for Iggy to get around. I wondered if that hurt Fang.

"Tuxedos?" I heard Fang question.

Oh no.

"Right…" He sucked in a breath. "Yeah, I'll pick them up tomorrow."

I could hear the person on the other end of the line. "Great. How's the rest of your wedding planning going?"

Fang shut his eyes. "The…The wedding's been cancelled."

He slammed the phone down and then leaned against the wall. Before I could react, he pulled his fist back and slammed it into the wall, clipping a picture frame, hand making a hole.

"Fuck." Fang swore, pulling his hand out of the wall. He bent forward, reaching for the frame, the glass broken in pieces. I heard him mutter something, but I couldn't make out the words.

As I approached him, I realized the picture was of him and Iggy. In fact I had taken it of them at the beach a couple months before Iggy had been diagnosed. The frame didn't really match the picture, and I had a feeling that Iggy had picked it out, based on its bright colors.

"We'll just take the glass out," I said quietly, kneeling down next to him. "I'll go out and buy another frame, and we'll take out the glass and put it in that one. It'll be good as new."

He slouched against me, and suddenly we were leaning up against the side of the couch, Fang hugging the picture, his head against my arm.

"Shhh, Fang, it's okay." I put my hand around his wrist, and he barely put up a fight as I pulled his hand towards me to examine it.

"I…I don't know why I did that," he whimpered.

"You're bleeding," I told him.

He glanced at his hand, wincing. His eyes were fixed on his rings now. It was Iggy who had proposed to him, on the beach of course. His engagement ring had red edges, a bluish silver in the inside. I'm pretty sure it was Gazzy who had taken Iggy to get it. Fang's wedding band was silver, Iggy's name etched around the outside. Iggy's, I knew, had Fang's name.

"Iggy…Iggy asked me to marry him the day we found out about his tumor." Fang gulped, pulling his hand away. "And he would have told you sooner about his tumor, but because of me, he waited because I couldn't handle telling you all."

We sat in silence on the floor. I remember it was Christmas. Iggy had sat us down and told us as soon as everyone got there. Fang had said nothing, expression giving away nothing, and I knew he had been acting strangely up until then, but it made me realize that the look in his eyes that seemed to border somewhere between being preoccupied and tired was really from pain and exhaustion.

That was only barely a year ago. The time for me had been so long, but for Fang it must have been a blink of an eye, and instead of me sitting there and comforting him, I started to cry. Fang put his arm around me gingerly, and like old times, our silence said more than our words.