A/N: I admit this is a bit unusual for me. I don't usually write fanfiction which I know deviates a fair bit from what the original writer intended, but I had a sudden burst of inspiration for this one- a crossover between MR and one of my own creations, a family with a bit in common with the flock.

Eh? It might work. It probably won't. We'll see.

And I rarely post another multi-chapter fic when I haven't finished another, but this story nagged and I'm lacking inspiration at the moment for Falling in Love and Other Really Scary Things. I'll update when I can, many apologies to those who care.

Anyway...

Cross Paths

Chessa Swan-Cox, who appeared to all outside her family as little more than a happy farmer's wife, suddenly set down her large mixing bowl that contained a half-made cake and ran outside into the yard, screaming franticallly for anyone that could hear her.

Unfortunately, that was no one.

A storm was rolling in from the north –a storm that she herself has failed to predict- and dark clouds were gathering overhead. A trembling rumble shook the very air. Even though the majority of people she lived with had extremely sensitive hearing, the vibrations the storm was creating would null them to her pleas. Chessa wiped the flour off her hands and ran into the main barn just as the rain came pouring down.

The sheep bleated pathetically, while the cows moaned to the noise. The barn smelt strongly of damp and fresh hay, animal food, wet fur.

"Florn!" she called, turning helplessly round the corners. "Kane! Brida!"

"Yeah?" there was a loud thud and a voice appeared behind her.

Chessa shot round and came face-to-face with Brida, the fifth member of the family, her best friend and someone she called her sister. Her hair was floating around her shoulder, indicating she'll probably been hanging from the rafters until a few seconds ago. Chessa didn't notice.

"Bri," she gasped, clutching her skirt in her hands. "Where's Florn and Kane?"

"Getting the horses in from the fields. Why?"

"Tell them to hurry up- quickly!"

Brida sped off like a cat with the hounds of hell at her heels. She was much faster than Chessa could ever be, despite being tiny in terms of size. Brida was fifteen, fully grown now, but only stood at a measly 5ft.

After what seemed like forever, Florn and Kane finally joined her in the barn, dragging two fine horses sleet with rain.

"What is it, Chess?" Florn leapt forward, thrusting the reigns into Brida's hands and jumping to her side with his usual concerned urgency. He turned her face towards his with a rough, gentle hand. "What's wrong? What can you see?"

As usual, Florn was the first to notice the glazed look in Chessa's eyes which meant that she was blind right now, that she had just seen something inside her head, things that no one else could see. Things that often hadn't happened yet.

"The six children," she clasped his wet shirt. "The ones with wings. They're being chased, and they're coming our way. One is injured."

"How far?"

"Two miles north, maybe? Wait-" she stopped him from racing off, clinging to his clothes. "They're coming closer. Take the Land Rover and go to the field closest to the stream, by the bridge. Hurry!"

Florn nodded. "Bri, take Chessa inside."

"Bog off," she laughed hollowly. "I'm coming with you! You heard what she said- they're being chased."

"I'll get the shotgun…" Kane shot off.

Chessa could sense Florn still looking at her. "Go!" she shouted. "Go on, hurry! I'll be fine in a minute, Florn, honestly. I know the way around my own home! Go!"

A few moments later, Chessa realised she was the alone in the barn, the storm rattling around her. Dimly, she stepped forward, dark shapes beginning to form again. She found the two horses and held their reigns tightly, letting them lead the way slowly towards the stables. They seemed to know where they we going. Feeling her way with her free hand and feet, she stabled them as best she could and ran back to the house, the yard quickly turning to mud. It was hardly a warm pleasant spring.

Chessa sat down at the kitchen table until she could see again, them buckled all the shutters and listened out for everything odd. It seemed the three youngest members of her family we're still tucked up in bed. Confident they were safe, she turned her attention to window, and watched as the heavens continued to fall.

"Come on," she prayed, "Hurry…"

.o0o.

So, once again, I, Maximum Ride, with my faithful band of human-avian hybrids, was on the run, accompanied by something, once again, that was trying to kill and/or capture us. Sometimes I wonder why they even bother. We inevitably, no matter how bad the situation is, somehow manage to escape.

Somehow.

Trouble is, when you're lost in the middle of a storm, and your best friend's bleeding into your shirt, and the wind is so strong the younger ones can barely fly through it, you fail to see the silver lining somehow. When things are really pretty bad, it's hard to remember all those near-misses, because you realise this might be your last. Near miss, that is. This time, you may actually find you've been hit.

Because Fang certainly had been. Not that this was unusual. For some reason, Fang always seemed to be the obvious target whenever all of us were fighting. He always took the brunt of the blows, the hardest hits. Not that he isn't a good fighter –because believe me, I'd know!- that just seems to be how things turn out. But just because he gets beat up often, doesn't make it any less worrying. Like I said, you never know when your going to be hit, when one fight isn't going to be his last.

"Max," Iggy called from Fang's other side, his voice muffled through the noise, "We can't go on much longer. The others can barely keep up."

I nodded. "I'm nodding, Iggy," and dimly wondered how he knew how the others were fairing, him being blind and all. I looked back briefly. Angel and Gazzy were flying hand it hand, a wet dog curled up in Angel's backpack. Nudge was on Angel's other side, trying to keep them going. I shivered, and not for the cold. I was scared of what was going to happen if I didn't find a place to land soon.

I saw a faint flicker of light through the wind and rain and my own hair plastered to my face. A flicker of light didn't really mean very much. It could mean people, a town, a city- none of these were particularly helpful things. A hospital? Maybe. But only just. Still, it was nice to see light at all, a beacon shining through the night, or whatever.

As we drew closer, I realised it was light from a farmhouse. I big one too, by the looks of things. And the great thing about those big old-fashioned working farms is they more than usually come with a nice big old-fashioned, warm, dry barn. If you're lucky, which we inevitably aren't. Still, it was better than nothing. We could haul up there, see if we could get a fire going, do something about Fang's wounds.

"Down!" I told Iggy, and thrust out a gesture to the others.

We ducked out of the clouds. Why were we flying through clouds in the rain, you ask? Well, our nicely privileged enemies in helicopter were flying above the clouds, so naturally we came in here to hide ourselves. As far as I could tell, we'd lost them, which meant my brilliant (but really uncomfortable) plan had worked. So far.

Despite being genetically engineered to be practically perfect in every way (yeah, right) there were still some things which couldn't be ironed out. Like the ability to fly in the rain. Normally, I wouldn't be doing this. In fact, I'd never do this, but desperate situations call for desperate measures. I was still paranoid of getting hit by lightning though. That's never happened to me before but I somehow doubt it's all hugs and warm fuzzy feelings.

Unfortunately, Fang chose that moment to fully lose consciousness and stopped flapping altogether. Iggy and myself, already exhausted beyond belief, didn't really have the energy to keep him up ourselves. However, we also lacked the sheer heartlessness which would have allowed us drop him. Because I don't know about Ig, but the chances of me letting go of Fang were about as likely as the School inviting us all round for Sunday lunch and a nice chat. And me not kicking their asses.

In other words, it's not happening.

"Flap, Iggy, FLAP!"

"I am flapping!"

"Nudge," I screamed. Nudge is about twelve now, and naturally, strong for her age. She's practically one of us big kids. "Nudge, get Gazzy and Angel down NOW! Then get your ass up here and help us!"

Nudge obeyed without question. I saw her stream down below, quickly disappearing from sight. I widened my wings as far as the would go, tried to tilt them into the wind, toss me up higher. We were losing altitude too fast.

"Iggy!"

"I'm trying!"

I wondered how far Nudge was from the ground. Why wasn't she back already? I chanced a look down, but I couldn't see anything. Everything was just a solid dark colour. Where were the others? Where was the farm? Where was the-

"Iggy! Brace for impact!"

I shut my eyes tight, hoping the ground was soft, hoping we'd slowed ourselves down enough, hoping the others were OK. A strong gust of wing hit me in the back like a hand of steel. In that brief second of surprise, I felt my grip of Fang loosen. A split second later, he was gone. Automatically, I dived forward and grabbed out into the air, but my hands fell around nothing.

"FANG!" I screamed, my breath twisting in my throat. I couldn't open my eyes, they felt like they'd been sewn shut, raindrops pelting my skin like bullets. I lashed out against the wind, reaching for anything, flapping my wings madly. I felt like I was being dragged down under the water. Worse, I felt like I was falling.

I have wings. I don't fall.

Wait, where was the ground? Surely I should have-

Thump.

Pain. Hard and instant.

OK, so there might have been a split second there when I thought I was dead, just because of the whole traumatic falling thing and the sudden drop and the pain. Then I realised the rain was still falling, and that the pain was over, and that somehow, by some strange reasoning, I wasn't actually on the ground.

I was in someone's arms.

This someone was unfamiliar, strange. I could see his face, young, clean-shaven, not much older than me. Twenty perhaps. Handsome.

In a very possibly-probably-actually-some-sort-of-an-Eraser way.

I immediately began to struggle, but his arms held me fast. This guy was strong- too strong. But his flesh felt warm, human. He wasn't sporting any fangs. He looked perfectly normal.

"Let me go!" I screamed, hating the way my voice sounded. I sounded like a pathetic, weak little girl. "Get off me! Iggy! Iggy, where are you?" he didn't answer.

"Easy, easy!" His grip tightened to the point of pain. "We're here to help! Easy chick…"

"Don't call me chick!"

I heard him laugh and lashed out to hit him, but he caught my fist in his hand and pushed it back down. His reflexes were scarily fast.

"What the hell are you?"

"You can talk, bird-girl."

"Kane!"

There was another face, a young girl's, hidden beneath the brim of a wide hood. She looked about my age, but she was tiny in stature. "Florn's moving. We have to hurry. Come on!"

"Where are-"

"The flock's fine," the girl answered quickly. "But we have to move. Come on, Max!"

She knew my name. She knew my name, and she called the flock, 'the flock'. Usually, this meant they were evil scientists who'd studied us most of our lives, but somehow, I didn't think this was the case. Don't kid me wrong, despite this girl's innocent face, I still had had my doubts. Never judge by appearances. She could be a robot, a trap, and this guy's strength was extremely suspicious.

But I had to go with the flow. There was no way I could fly anymore, and we needed help. Somehow, I think luck must have been on our side. We'd fallen into the home of supporters.

.o0o.

A/N: Not much of a first chapter, I guess. Still, go with the flow, I say. If there's enough interest, I'll post the next chapter I have ASAP. REVIEW PLLEEEAAASE!!