Disclaimer: I do not own Maximum Ride (although I wish I could own Fang—he's so hot). I don't own the song 'You Raise Me Up' either.

CAUTION! This story contains sappy, OOC angst. You have been warned.


In His Arms


It was raining when I woke up.

I blinked sleepily, sitting up in my bed. I could hear the rain outside, quick flashes of lightning illuminating my curtain-covered window. Following the lightning came loud claps of thunder, which I guessed was what had woken me up.

"Max?"

I jumped out of bed, fists clenched and wings extended, ready for any sort of trouble. Instead, I found little Angel standing in the doorway of my room, a lost, terrified expression on her face.

"Come in, sweetie," I said, sitting back down on the edge of my bed. "What's wrong?"

Angel dashed into the room, and I automatically put my arms around her body and pulled her into my lap. She was shaking badly, and I could feel the tears on her cheeks as she buried her face into my shoulder.

"I had a nightmare," she murmured, her voice muffled by my nightshirt.

I gently rubbed a hand in circles over Angel's back. "About what, sweetie?"

"Jeb."

My heart clenched at the mention of his name. Jeb Batchelder was the only person that we, the flock, had in the world, besides each other. Just a week ago, he had gone missing. Fang, Iggy, and I had no doubt about what had happened—Jeb had been taken back to the School, and was now most likely dead for helping us escape.

"You wanna tell me what happened?" I asked.

Angel sniffled. "I saw Jeb, here, outside this house. And…there were Erasers everywhere. We were in the air, and we were trying to pick him up and fly away with him, but he…he…he kept telling us to go, to leave him. And then…and then…" She trailed off, a fresh wave of sobs racking her tiny body.

Oh my sweet baby girl, I know exactly how you feel. "Come on, let's go downstairs and have some cocoa. I may not be the greatest cook in the world, but I'm pretty sure I can handle the kettle," I added with a wink, eliciting a slight smile.

I picked Angel up, her four-year-old body almost weightless in my arms, and carried her into the kitchen. After setting her down on a stool at the table, I filled the kettle with milk and set it on top of the stove, twisting the knob to turn it on. I managed to boil the milk without scalding myself (yes!), then poured it into two mugs, followed by cocoa powder.

I stirred the chocolate drinks, then handed one to Angel.

For a while, she stared miserably into her mug. "Max, I miss Jeb," she said quietly.

I sighed, reaching out a hand to ruffle Angel's hair. "I know, sweetie. I miss Jeb too. But at least we're all still together, and that's what Jeb would've wanted, right?"

Angel gave a tiny nod, then sipped her cocoa.

"Hey, what are you two doing up?"

Angel and I looked over to the kitchen door to see Fang in all his Dark Boy glory, the effect somewhat ruined by the fact that he was in pajamas—black pajamas, but pajamas nevertheless. (Hee.)

"Couldn't sleep," muttered Angel. "I had a nightmare."

Fang raised his eyebrows at me, and I nodded in response to the unasked question.

In a once-in-a-lifetime moment of un-Fang-like behavior, Fang moved silently so he was at Angel's side, then wrapped one arm around her thin shoulders. Relishing his touch, Angel leaned into him, her head drooping onto his chest.

"I'm so scared," Angel whispered. "Gazzy and Nudge keep saying that Jeb is somewhere out there, lost, still alive. But I can read your minds. I know Jeb's dead. I'm scared that maybe whatever killed Jeb will find us, then kill us too."

I sucked in such a huge breath that I almost choked. Oh my God. Had Angel been sitting on this ever since Jeb disappeared?

I immediately moved over and wrapped her up in a huge three-way hug with Fang, and once again, she burst into tears.

"Oh sweetheart," I soothed, stroking her fine curls, "I won't ever let anything happen to you. I won't ever let the Erasers or anything else get their hands on you, or Fang, or Nudge, or Iggy, or Gazzy. I'll always be here."

On Angel's other side, Fang was using his free hand to slowly rub circles on Angel's lower back, just beneath her wings.

Fang, Angel, and I stayed entwined in that hug for a good long while, but eventually, Angel's soft breathing told me she was asleep.

"Go on back to bed," said Fang. "I'll put Angel to bed."

As I extracted myself from the hug, Fang scooped Angel up into his arms, then disappeared in the direction of the bedrooms.

Sighing, I picked up the mugs and then took them to the sink, rinsing them out before returning them to the cupboard. I left the kettle in the sink, figuring Iggy would want to make coffee or something in the morning.

Instead of going back to bed, like Fang had suggested, I found myself wandering outside, despite the rain.

I barely felt the raindrops striking my skin, seeping into my clothes. I was numb, thinking about what Angel had told me.

It made me angry.

No, not at the flock. Never at the flock. I was angry with the School's twisted scientists and with the vicious Erasers for making our lives a living hell. Angel was only four. She should've been having dreams about ballerinas and princesses and sugar-plum fairies and whatnot, not having nightmares about bloody, gory, Eraser-caused deaths.

That got me thinking. Nudge was nine, Gazzy was six, and Fang, Iggy, and I were twelve. Didn't matter what age we were. We still weren't doing the things other kids our age were doing. We weren't going to school, we weren't making new friends, we didn't have parents, for God's sake!

It's so unfair! I thought angrily.

And then, I was sobbing.

I don't know how long I cried. When I was finally able to stop, wiping the tears and rain from my eyes, I just felt glad that none of the flock was here. Oh God, that would be so—

"Max."

I whirled around, my cheeks flushing bright red. Fang stood right behind me, observing me with cool, unemotional eyes.

"How…" I gulped. "How long have you been there?"

"Since you started crying." Fang stepped out into the rain, walking until we were face-to-face. Er…face-to-chin, actually. When we were younger, Fang and I were the same height, but lately, he's sprouted.

Then, he did something that completely, totally shocked me.

He wrapped his arms around me, and pulled me into an embrace.

And, for some reason, that got me crying again.

I felt Fang's fingers gently stroking my skin, one hand on my back, the other tangled in my hair.

It didn't matter that Fang never said anything while he was holding me.

Because, in his arms, I felt like everything would be alright.