This is probably the only Maximum Ride fic that I'm ever going to write. I'm pretty much over it, but I've had this idea on the brain, so I thought I'd write it down and see what people thought. Takes place directly after School's Out - Forever.

If I owned Maximum Ride . . . well, things would have gone a bit differently after book 3

What with the whole explosion thing, Iggy hadn't had much time to think about it at the time.

It had been nagging him ever since, a little itch in the back of his mind that he couldn't quite place.

It was finally quiet. The little kids had gone to sleep and Max and Fang had gone off to do whatever it was that they did when they were by themselves.

Iggy didn't know what they did, exactly, but he was pretty sure they weren't just talking. After all, this was Fang, the king of the strong and silent, and Max, who didn't have emotions.

So, yeah, there was definitely something going on there, but it wasn't really his top priority right now.

Everyone had been a little bit shaken up, what with the rats and the spiders and the Max-who-wasn't-Max, not to mention the dog food, which Total was still ragging on about. Nobody had noticed that, while the others shrieked and yelled and inhaled the ripe smell of wet dog food, Iggy had merely stood there, helpless and confused.

He hadn't faced his worst fear.

He guessed that probably had something to do with the fact that those 'fears' had been mere holograms, which he couldn't see, thanks to the blindness factor.

But it bugged him all the same. Had the scientists not considered him important enough to antagonize?

This sounded totally screwed up, but it was true. He was insulted by the lack of effort to get to him.

Or maybe he was just upset that, despite the total lack of effort, he'd still been majorly affected.

It was at times like these that, more than anything else in the world, he wanted to see.

He'd just stood there, like an idiot, as his friends were tortured, entrapped, force-fed smelly dog food, and he'd done nothing. He'd been absolutely helpless.

It made him feel like such a liability, such a weak link in the chain. He hated it.

He'd hated hearing his friends screaming, but not knowing what was going on. There'd been shrieks of terror, then Angel's squeal of pain, then a chorus of "Max?"

That's when things had gotten really confusing, because suddenly there were two Maxes, and then there were whitecoat voices, and grunts, and then one of the Maxes - Iggy guessed from the slightly psycho tone of voice that it was their Max - bellowed some stuff about love and hugs and being the better person that had him wondering if Max had pulled a Nudge and started reading the Bible.

He hadn't paid too much attention, just let his mind go into pyro auto-pilot as he and Gazzy rigged a bomb.

The scary thing was the resulting explosion, a solid ten if he'd ever seen - excuse me, heard - one, hadn't even cheered him up.

He'd stood there like an idiot as screams echoed around him, and he'd realized how lost he would be without Max being a total psycho loser, without Fang being a regular caveman, without sweet, naive Nudge, without little Angel and his partner in crime, Gazzy.

He'd stood there as his friends faced their worst fears, and he'd realized his own.

As laughter floats through the trees on the cool Florida breeze, Iggy sighs and looks up at the sky he can't see, praying to a God that he's not sure he believes in.

If we're going to die . . . I want to be first.

It's gruesome, but it's better than the alternative.

Well?