Disclaimer: I claim no right to the Maximum Ride universe. Please review and let me know if you want more! I'm not sure if I'm going to continue, but the rating will change next chapter if I do. Max and Fang getting it on. :) Much Love!
Pressing the flaps of the Band-Aid firmly onto Angel's skin, Max glanced at her patient with a smile. "There you go. All better," she said and patted Angel's leg above the now-protected scrape on her knee.
Angel rolled her bright blue eyes and blew tangled curls from her face. "I think I'm old enough to take care of my own scrapes now, Max," she sighed. "I am twelve, after all." Sliding down from her perch on the bathroom counter, she flexed her leg and frowned at the familiar but unpleasant sting of abraded flesh as it stretched.
Max leaned a hip against the tile and grinned as she snapped the Band-Aid box shut and picked up the empty wrappings. "Maybe, but can't I have a little more time with you as my baby?"
"You're not my mom, Max." Angel regretted the words as soon as she spoke them, feeling the sharp pain slice through Max's thoughts and seeing the fade of her smile. "I didn't mean…"
Max shrugged, placing the box back in the medicine cabinet. "I know, Angel. Don't worry about it." She placed a kiss on Angel's forehead and pushed her lightly. "Go on back outside. Gazzy's waiting." Following at a slower pace, she ignored the sting of Angel's comment. All of them were still searching, still hoping for some word of their natural parents, but it seemed to really be getting to the youngest one. Frowning, Max pressed her fingertips to her temples. She felt like she was coming down with a fever, her skin slowly growing hot and tender to the touch. Blowing out her breath in a big rush, she opened her eyes to see Fang right in front of her, his dark eyes as neutral as the rest of his face.
"Trouble in paradise?" he asked, close enough so that she felt the vibrations of his deep voice shiver through her.
She let her frown deepen as she looked at him. "I still don't like it when you do that," she snapped. She would have guessed that twenty two years of living together and four years of knowing each other inside and out would have clued him in to the fact that she hated his little sneaky routine.
He raised an eyebrow. "It's not my fault you don't pay attention to your surroundings." He stepped back and slid his hands into his pockets. His dark hair hung over one eye and the other studied her closely.
"Right. That's my problem. I just don't pay attention." Max didn't know why she was suddenly so irritable, but she didn't feel much like pretending for the good of the flock. She slid around him, careful not to touch him. Her skin felt so hot and sensitive that any contact with him would make her snap. "I'm going for a walk. I'll be back in a little while."
He was back in front of her in a flash, a light wrinkle in his forehead. "What's wrong?" he said, ducking his head to try to meet her eyes. Golden strands fell across her face and obscured his view.
"Nothing's wrong. I just need to breathe for a minute," she said, practically shaking with the inexplicable tension in her limbs. The heat was starting to make it hard to breathe. She wasn't coming down with a fever. It was something else, something bad. She needed to get out and soon. She wouldn't risk the lives of the flock.
Fang reached up carefully and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Max," he whispered and she jerked away from him. She moved faster this time, making it to the front door before he caught up to her.
She pushed him when he got in her way again. "Get the hell out of my way, Fang. You're not my keeper!" She pushed him again, this time the force actually moved him out of her way and she was out the door and in the air before he could grab her again. She soared high above the rooftops with a few powerful strokes of her wings, trying to use the wind to cool her skin, but it was of little use. She whipped the hair tie off her wrist and tied back her hair before pouring on the speed to ensure that she wasn't followed. Fang had tried before.
Thinking about it, the heat she felt eating her alive was similar to the first time she had taken off like this, consuming and intense. She dipped one wing and banked off to her left. She had left the small town they called home far behind and glided somewhere above the mountains a good two hours away from the house by normal transportation.
Her wing beats faltered as the heat under her skin flared a thousand times hotter and she dropped close to the tree tops, working hard to keep her toes from catching in the branches. Through a break in the trees her eyes caught the glint of sunlight on water and she headed that way, folding her wings and letting herself drop directly into the clear blue of the mountain stream.
The impact and icy coldness of the water drove the breath from her lungs, but Max welcomed the few seconds of numbness. After that, the heat returned as intense as ever. Growling in frustration, Max swam to the shallows and flopped down, still partially covered by the water. She stared up at the sky as the heat continued to build and for the first time, she wondered if she hadn't made a mistake in heading into the wilderness on her own. The mild worry produced by that thought grew into careful panic as her vision began to swim and flicker. She sat up quickly, fighting down the nausea and managed to drag herself onto drier land even as she lost consciousness.
* *
She came awake to a bright light shining directly into her eyes. She tried to wiggle away, but her body refused to respond.
"Sir, test subject fourteen is awake," said an even female voice close to her right ear.
Max was instantly on alert and she nearly gagged on the sterile smell that suddenly filled her nose. She choked down the blind panic and threw her senses open wide, trying to gain as much information as she could about her situation. She had been stupid, foolish to think that the flock was finally free and clear. She could only hope that the rest of them were okay, that she was the only one trapped.
"Excellent, Ms. Harringer. Could you please have Mr. Davis prep the hunters? I am sure they are eager for a more challenging opportunity."
Max felt the last of the residual heat tingling along her skin fade at his words. Hunters. She wanted nothing more than to scream and fight, but she knew that her efforts would be ineffectual until she knew what the full situation was. As it was, she still couldn't see or move, so blind action was tantamount to suicide. She heard the woman scuttle off and the mechanical sucking sound as an airlock was opened and resealed.
"Now, Ms. Ride. I'm sure you are wondering what is going on," Sir said.
The bright light moved out of her eyes and Max was able to see clearly. Her stomach tightened painfully in an attempt to expel its contents, but she was able to hold her body in check. She bit her tongue to keep her mind on the bigger picture and let the monster in front of her speak as she assessed him.
"Sir" was tall, probably an inch or two taller than herself, and lean. His light hair was cut close to his head and if he hadn't been such an obvious psycho, Max might have thought he was cute. Especially because he didn't look much older than herself. His dark eyes were calculating and cold. Like every other lemming at the facility (probably), he wore a starched white lab coat over his clothes, but she could see the edge of his dress shirt peeking over the white collar. It was green. He cleared his throat and smiled. "I'm sure you are anxious to hear what we have planned for you, but before we begin, I must say. You are not quite what I expected from the information in your file. I never would have imagined that such a pain in the ass could be so lovely. Your pictures do you no justice."
Max couldn't stop the shudder of revulsion at his words and she was quite certain that something dark and predatory had flickered in his eyes as they scanned the length of her body. It wasn't a good feeling. "That's nice," she snapped, almost surprised to hear her own voice. "What the fuck do you you want, asshole?"
He chuckled. "The face of an angel and the vocabulary of a construction worker. They warned me about you. Said you were like nothing else they'd ever seen." His eyes took on a far away look and his hand twitched in her direction. "What I wouldn't give to..." He blinked and all the professionalism was back.
She glared at him. "I'm not much for foreplay. Why don't we cut to the chase or at least to introductions? I like to know who I'm dealing with."
"Ah, of course. How rude of me. I am Dr. Alan Marton and, at the moment, I am in charge of this facility." He waved one hand in the air, indicating the space around them.
"How wonderful for you," Max said, fighting an eye roll. "Since it's up to you, let's just loosen these restraints and walk me to the front door. I don't sleep over on the first date. I'm just not that kind of girl."
He laughed again, the sound oddly chilling. "I'm afraid not, my angel. I've been waiting a long time to get my hands on you and I will not be denied." His voice dropped in tone as he spoke and Max got the distinct feeling that he wasn't speaking entirely from a medical research perspective. It made her insides churn.
"Anyhow," he continued. "We should be going. Your first appointment is about to begin." He moved behind her and she heard a couple of clicks as he removed the brakes of the gurney to which she was strapped. The cart lurched and he was whistling as he wheeled her from the room.
Max tried desperately to take in everything around her, but her mind was still a little fuzzy and Dr. Marton was moving at a good clip down the hallway.
He started speaking again as they passed a brightly illuminated cell block containing all kinds of odd creatures. "As you can see," he said, leaning forward so that she could see his hand as he gestured to the caged beings in the room. She could smell his aftershave. "We've continued experimenting with splicing DNA to determined the best combinations for our purposes. Sadly, our best work was done twenty years ago when the six of you, you in particular, Ms. Ride, were born. You have been the most successful batch of recombinants we have ever created. Not even following the notes to the letter have reproduced the same results. Did you know that you are the only group to outlive the programmed expiration? Even your clones submitted without much of a fight and exactly when they were supposed to. It's fascinating." He sighed and she could imagine the smile on his face, a mixture of awe and frustration.
"I can't tell you how excited I was when we received intel about your whereabouts that proved to be correct. That was the most exciting acqusition of my life, getting to watch the suits bust down your doors and take you screaming from your family. It took three times the normal dose to calm you. Such a fighter." His fingertips stroked down her cheek and she snapped at him. "Now, now. Ms. Ride. Be nice."
"As I was saying, no group has been so successful, except perhaps this new recombinant batch. You may have heard me refer to them as the hunters because that is what they are. I won't go into the details of all the genetic code, but they are most definitely bred to run prey to ground."
Max swallowed hard. "And what does that have to do with me?" she asked, though she was sure that she already knew the answer.
Dr. Marton hummed. "You, my angel, are going to test them for us."
Max felt the bottom of her stomach drop out as he rounded a corner and slowed to a stop. Before her lay an airlock leading to what she could only describe as a jungle. She wasn't sure what it counted as because the space was completely enclosed, a controlled room, but it seemed to stretch for miles.
"What the fuck?" she shouted.
He moved next to her and smiled. "Amazing, isn't it? We spent years building this and it is most definitely the most extensive recreation of the natural environment that existed twelve miles above us in central Mexico. Minus the construction, of course." He turned to face her. "Your task is to survive. You and our latest creations will be let loose and allowed to play together. You will be taken out only when you have either killed the last of the creatures or managed to remain alive for a week. Whichever comes first."
"I'd really rather not," Max rasped, fear making her throat dry.
Dr. Marton shrugged. "It's not up to you," he snapped. He stepped closer and clamped his hand securely around her jaw so that she couldn't move her head. She would probably have bruises from the grip, but she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of reacting. "But I do wish you would try to emerge sooner rather than later. I'm looking forward to spending more time with you, my angel." And he crushed his mouth to hers, forcing her mouth open and tasting her. She struggled against him, but it was pointless. He withdrew, but not before drawing her bottom lip into his mouth and biting down savagely. She cried out at the sharp pain as blood pooled in her mouth.
"So delicious," she heard him say as he shoved the gurney toward the airlock and she was catapulted into the air.
* *
Max woke with a scream half started. Quickly her brain worked to take in her surroundings and she was completely thrown to find herself back in the woods, the lower half of her body still partially submerged in the water. The fading light did little to hamper her vision and she drew a little comfort from the fact that she couldn't be in that hellish compound. It had been too bright there. Suddenly shivering violently from the cold, she pushed herself upright and stumbled entirely onto dry land trying to work out what had happened to her.
She ran her hand through her hair, surprised to find it still damp. Her clothes were still a cold wet mess, which told her that she couldn't have been out for all that long. She shook herself to rid her mind and body of the awful dream. Because that's what it had to have been, just a dream. She scrubbed a hand over her face, but froze at the slight twinge of pain as she rubbed her lips together.
With a trembling hand, she carefully pressed a fingertip to the spot on her bottom lip that ached and felt her world tilt at an unpleasant angle. Pulling that fingertip away, she stared at the smear of red.
Fear dumped adrenaline into her bloodstream and she immediately launched herself into the air, desperate to get home. She faltered and nearly crashed back to earth a couple of times, but managed to stay airborne by sheer force of will.
The wind on her face was slightly soothing, a familiar sensation to bring her back to herself little by little, so that by the time she could see the lights of their small town her brain had calmed enough to start rationalizing how she could have cut her lip. She could have bitten it through all on her own during the dream. In fact, that was what had happened, she decided. And as she got closer to the house, another kind of apprehension built. She really didn't want to deal with Fang in her current state.
As if he had heard her thoughts, the front door banged open as she landed on the front lawn and the devil himself strolled out on the porch. He leaned against one of the front support beams, confident and quiet. She would have to walk past him to get into the house and then he would have her.
Max ducked her head as she pulled her hair from it's pathetic bun and shook it in front of her face as she tried to look a little more normal. The cool rushing air had distracted her from the pain in her lip, but now she could feel it swelling up. He was definitely going to ask about it, but Max wanted a shower and some clean clothes before she tried to tackle that particular conversation.
She kept her hair in front of her face as she trudged up the front steps, hoping the mostly dry strands afforded her some protection from his piercing gaze. She didn't look at him as she passed, turning her body away from him to squeeze by without touching him. If they touched, he would know.
Slinking into the house, she waved at the kids in the living room and headed directly upstairs. Her whole body ached, a result of the impact with the water, and she felt hungry enough to devour a cow on her own, but being clean was number one on her list. Her safeguards relaxed as she slipped into the bathroom and clicked the lock shut.
The shakes came back right away and it took a few times to get a firm enough grip on the handles to turn the shower on. She spared herself a brief glance in the mirror and had to shake her head at the sight she made, bedraggled hair, muddy face and clothes. She was a mess with a capital M.
As steam filled the bathroom, she peeled off her damp clothing and stepped under the spray of hot water, practically moaning at the delicious sensation of heat warming her chilled skin. This heat was pleasant, comforting, and she relaxed into it. The shakes washed away with the mud and soon she was left with just a feeling of contentment.
Quite a while later, she shut off the water and stepped out of the tub. She dried off without any real hurry, glad again that she had purchased the extra fluffy towels. Squeezing the extra water from her hair, she whipped it into a quick braid and habitually glanced at herself in the mirror as she gathered up her dirty clothes.
The tension that had leached from her body during the shower was back full force as her mind processed her reflection. Hesitantly, she raised her hand and placed one fingertip on each of the five marks, four on the left side of her face and one on her right, spanning her jaw. "Son of a bitch!" she screamed and shattered the mirror with her fist.
* *
She sat on the toilet, wincing every few seconds as Fang dug around the bloody mess of her hand with a pair of tweezers searching for shards of glass. Nudge had gotten rid of the rest of the glass with quick efficiency and now the only bits left were the ones in her knuckles.
Seconds after she had broken the mirror, Iggy had picked the lock and he and Fang stood in the doorway staring at the disarray she had created. Fang said something to Iggy that even she couldn't hear and the third in command had slipped away. He turned back to her once Iggy was gone and she could see his mouth start to open, no doubt to pin her with some snarky remark, when he actually got a good look at her shaking and bleeding. Instead, he had just approached her on light feet to avoid the glass and drawn her away from it.
Nudge had come in, tossed Fang a first aid kit from the linen closet and waved a hand to dissolve the glass. Then with an uncharacteristically silent look, she left them alone. And now, she was stuck with Fang and his unnerving silence. She sighed and rested her forehead on the palm that wasn't injured.
"Are you going to tell me what happened?" Fang's soft question sent simultaneous relief and apprehension zinging through her. He was talking to her, but that meant she had to talk to him.
Rolling her head on her palm to look at him, she answered truthfully, "I'm not sure entirely what did, but whatever it was, it wasn't good."
His dark eyes flicked up to her face and then back to her hand. "Care to elaborate?"
She made a soft sound as he dug a little harder and tried to pull her hand back. "It's difficult to explain."
"So, try." He finally set down the tweezers and balanced a small bowl of warm water on his knees to rinse off her hand. His fingers were gentle as they washed the blood from her hand.
She sighed. "I blacked out and had a dream in which I had been captured and was being used to test new recombinant killing machines. It was loads of fun." She didn't want to tell him about the doctor. She felt dirty just thinking about his hands on her.
"What happened to your face? The handprint?" His voice was quiet and calm, but she knew him well enough to hear the anger bubbling just beneath the surface.
Max avoided his eyes. She stared fixedly at her hand as he padded her knuckles with gauze and tugged a thin, fingerless glove over her hand to make it easier to tape down the bandages. He placed her hand on her own knee and stood to clean up. "I'm not sure."
"Why not?"
She shook her head. "Because it doesn't make sense."
"And your lip?"
She stood and flexed her hand lightly. "Same thing," she admitted, running her tongue over the laceration. The sterile and oddly dark taste of him came back to her unbidden and she almost gagged on it.
He looked at her as he set the bowl on the counter and swept the trash into the container.
Pressing her lips together and scowling at her inadvertent admission, she didn't answer his question. "It's really not that big a deal." She picked at the tape he had just stuck to her hand and refused to look at him.
Fang let the corners of his mouth curve downward slightly as he noted her avoidance of the topic. He decided to call her out on running away instead. "It's not nice to take off and leave them wondering. Angel got extremely upset. I got extremely upset."
Max felt the old sting of guilt prick her. She hadn't meant to make them worry, but it would have been worse had she stuck around. Remembering the heat under her skin and the cold, metallic smell of the laboratory caused a spike of anxiety that restricted her ability to breathe. All of a sudden the strain of the day crashed down around her head and exhaustion overwhelmed her sense of balance. She staggered to the side and might have fallen if not for Fang's quick reflexes. His arms wrapped around her and he hauled her tight against his side.
He murmured her name in her ear, but she was too far gone to respond. She let her head loll back on his shoulder and he instantly swung her into his arms. Her body relaxed of its own accord into his and she inhaled his scent to calm her roiling mind. He barely jostled her at all as he carried her down the hall to their room, worried that she gave in so easily.
He nudged their door open and closed it gently behind them as he asked her, "Have you eaten today?" The weak shake of her head tightened his arms further around her. "You are such an idiot sometimes," he admonished and set her on the bed. Flying as far and as fast as she had, not to mention whatever she had experienced out there, would drain her almost completely with a full stomach. He was surprised she had made it back with so few reserves. But then, she was Max.
He pulled the sheets up on the side of the bed on which she didn't lay and rolled her over onto it, leaving the towel she had wrapped around herself behind, and covered her up. She wiggled around so that she was on her back, one arm flung high above her head.
Fang's gut tightened as he saw the bruises on her face and soft puffiness of her swollen lip. There was something she wasn't telling him and he hated that because it usually meant that she was in deep trouble. Even as he watched, her face scrunched into a small frown and she started shaking her head. Her hands started grasping at air and an awful whimpering issued from her throat.
He circled to her side of the bed and dropped to his knees at her side, catching one of her hands in his and using the other to smooth her hair away from her face. When she calmed, he kissed her forehead softly and moved to leave, but her fingers tightened around his hand convulsively.
"Don't go," she whispered. She opened her eyes and pinned him with a gaze he hadn't seen in six years. "Please?"
As if he could ever say no to her. As if he wanted to. He climbed over her to settle behind her on the bed, tension that he hadn't noticed practically falling off him as she snuggled herself into the curve of his body. She reached back with a blind hand and pulled his arm over her, tucking it beneath her own and entwining their fingers. He squeezed her tighter against him, sliding his free arm underneath her neck.
"I'm here, Max," he promised, focusing on the beat of her heart under his hand. He didn't like feeling as though he was losing hold of her. She was his entire world, his reason for living, his heart. Without her, he would be nothing. Squeezing his eyes closed against his fear, he concentrated on the warmth of her body against his and pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck. "Always."
* *