Max Winston- Mortal

I hate everyone.

True enough. Teenagers often go through that phase. But not like this. Not with this responsibility. Not with this temptation.

I hate my mom. For making me do this. I hate my Dad. For not being fast enough.

If He could go back and move that one bullet a centimeter. He could save himself. He could change the world as we know it, save lives, rebuild, protect.

I hate myself.

Everyday it gets worse. It gets closer. It tempts him. Sometimes he'll walk over and look at it, thinking. Fantasizing. His breath would catch, his heart would beat a little harder. Images of home full his head, a longing to go back to his world where everything was simple. And the complex stuff was discarded, forgotten, hidden.

I hate Alex.

Max's eyes lifted from the worn notebook page. His gaze landed on the small lump laying in the uneven dirt. The pencil in his hand wavered above the page. His eyes glistened in the fire light with an uncharacteristic anger. The ember coals provided little light to see by, but the full starry sky dotted overhead.

The lump shuddered as a cool wind blew through leaves of the forest around them. Max tugged the blanket tight around him, running a hand through his auburn hair. He closed the book with a snap, taking a deep breath.

As fast as it had come, the anger was replaced by guilt. Eminence guilt.

He's just a kid.

He's only eleven.

Quietly he caught the sound of a whimper. His throat closed up, his breathing uneven. Nightmares. Always nightmares.

Max crept around the glowing embers, listening to the small moans and whimpers. The shaking had increased as he got closer, whimpers turning into choking sobs. He knelt next to the boy pulling him into a tight hug.

He didn't say anything, but rocked him back and forth. The boy curled up in his arms sobbing into his shirt. He repeated the same words over and over.

"I'm sorry Max." He whimpered into his shirt. "I'm sorry."

Max looked down into the little boy's gray-blue eyes that shone with tears. Stained trails ran down his cheeks, dripping off his chin. His sweat matted untidy auburn hair stuck out in the faint light.

"It's okay." He whispered in the little boy's ear. "You're okay, Alex. You're okay. Everything is okay."

He cringed at his own lies. Alex was not okay. They were not okay. And he highly doubted they ever would be.

"Max," Alec whimpered. "It happened again. It's all my fault!"

"No it's not." Max whispered soothingly. "It's not your fault."

"Yes it is! I see the way you look at the knife! I see the looks you send me when you think I'm asleep! You hate me! You'd rather I'd be dead!"

Max stared down at Alex, his mouth moving but no words were coming out. "Alex..." He choked.

"I'm a freak! I'm a freak." Alex continued to sob into Max's shoulder. The older boy was speechless. His brain unable to connect thoughts, like frayed wires. He wanted to say it wasn't true. He wanted to explain himself. But there was nothing. Nothing to cover up what he thought.

He'd rather Alex be dead.

Maybe then he'd wouldn't have been stuck in the middle of no where, scared, parent-less, and homesick.

Maybe then he'd be joking around with his friends, or maybe taking his girlfriend to the movies.

Maybe then he wouldn't have to worry about his little brother being a freakish muggle born wizard.

"I know you blame me for their deaths." Alex sobbed. "I know you don't sleep because you relive the night."

"Shut up." Max barely recognized his own voice, filled with pain and regret.

"I know you write about hating me in that notebook. I know you always think about going back." Alex said. "I know you're terrified of me."

"Shut up."

"I know one of these days you plan on leaving me forever."Alex continued, more forcefully. "I know you pretend to care-"

"Damn it, Alex!" Max yelled. "I said SHUT UP! You think you know what spins around in my head? Do you really want to know?"

"Yes!" Alex replied pulling away from him, his rag tag blanket changing colors in his hands. "Tell me that I'm wrong! Tell me another lie!"

"You want the truth?! Fine! I hate you! I hate the way Mom made me promise to protect you! I hate that Dad took that bullet for you! I hate running! I'm sick and tired of your stupid nightmares and whines! There I said it! Are you happy?! Did you enjoy that?"

Alex fell father away from him, tears flowing down his face. The coals sparked and ignited with accidental magic. Max's terrifying angry face was livid in the high rising flames.

"I hate pretending." Max snarled. "I wish I could go home and forget you ever existed! I've wished, I've prayed, I've pinched, but no matter what I can't seem to wake up from this nightmare!"

Alex backed away, terrified.

"I admit everything! I wish you were dead!"

Suddenly the full effect of what he said came crashing down on him. The anger fled his face, giving in to surprise and astonishment.

"Oh My God, Alex-"

"Fine!" Alex screamed. "Why don't I just leave! And save you the trouble of losing me!"  Fire and smoke swirled around them, hurt and betrayal glistened in his teary eyes. Before Max could stop him, Alex disappeared into the smoke.

"Alex!" Max yelled. "Alex!" He charged after him into the smoke covering his mouth and nose with his shirt. All around him was black and sparking orange. His eyes teared, but he pushed on after the little boy.

"Alex!" He yelled. "I'm sorry! Okay? I did mean it!" It sounded hollow and meaningless. "Alex! Please come back!"

He ran blindly around breaking through the other end of the smoke cloud wisps of fire and burning wood filled his senses with spite.

"Alex!"

Leaves crunched under foot, thorn bushes and low hanging branches walked him in the face. Awkwardly shaped roots poked out of the ground snagging his jeans, and scraping his angles. He tripped on rocked and uneven ground. His mind was shocked into auto pilot, rerunning the look on Alex's face.

"Alex! I swear, I didn't mean it! I'm sorry!"

His lungs screamed for oxygen, his legs ready to give out. This was his fault. He stumbled into a tree, his head ringing still from the contact. This is what he wanted right? Now he could go home, pretend like this was all just a misunderstanding. Alex ran, there was nothing he could do.

Except there was. He was in charge of Alex. He promised he would protect him. It didn't matter if he was a wizard, or a mutant, or even a demigod. It wasn't about him being powerful, because even if he was more powerful than Harry Potter, right now he was a scared, angry eleven year old lost in a dense forest, alone and unarmed.

So Max kept running. He kept yelling. He kept on hoping Alex would hear him and come back.

But every step, every scrape, every yell, lost a little more strength. And Pretty soon instead of trying to find Alex, his mind was dancing on possibilities of what could have happened to him. Tears fell down his face, exhaustion claiming his body, he stumbled and fell.

"Alex!" He yelled his voice coarse. He stared at ground the moonlight barely visible through the canopy of the trees. Pain hit him hard and tears splattered on the ground. Sobs crippled his body.

"I'm sorry, Alex."

He wasn't quite sure how long he just laid there, crying, apologizing to the air, but at some point exhaustion claimed him. He could hear voices and people but he was lost. Lost in a maze of regret. It was his own fault. Whatever happens to him was Max's fault.

He shouldn't have said anything. He shouldn't have let him run. He shouldn't have let Alex vanish.

"Oh my Gods!" Someone screamed. "Nyssa! I found a body!"

He should have ever called him a freak. He shouldn't have been blinded by anger. He shouldn't have been tempted.

He could vaguely feel as someone checked his pulse, before he drifted into a sea of darkness, still muttering his sorrys.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eh. Not my best. For those of you reading my other story Find Me, sorry, I'm trying to update but I'm having a slight writer's block. Bare with me guys!

For those not reading my other story, sorry I don't really have a message for you.

~Greenninjagal