A/N: Disclaimer- If I owned Maximum Ride, there would already be a movie and Iggy would've ended up with me. Since that didn't happen (aww, poor me) I obviously don't own it.
This is my first story, so feedback is appreciated. Thank you!
Fang ran.
Dear Max, Angel, Gazzy, Nudge, and Iggy,
He ran, pushing himself further and further into the dark, nighttime forest that surrounded their temporary camp. The trees finally broke apart, dispersed. Scattered. He saw an old street lined with run-down shops.
I'm sorry.
He knew what he had come here for.
I know this is hard, but I can't do anything now.
He picked up a rock on the forest floor. It was heavy, heavy enough to break a store window. He carried it with him as he headed towards the dirt path that led into the street. The street with the stores.
I've set my mind, and I won't be changing it.
The street with the closed Gun Shop.
I can't deal with this.
He walked down the old street. No cars. He braced himself, ready to break into the store.
It's been building up. I was going to burst any day now.
He heaved the half-head-sized rock into the air, closing his eyes and hearing it loudly crash into the window.
I thought telling you, Iggy, would be good. Easy. A release.
He opened his eyes. The alarms were going off, muffled with age. He stepped through the huge, shattered window, breaking it again with his fists in places it hadn't presented him with an acceptable entry route. He didn't feel the pain from his newly scraped, cut knuckles.
It made things worse.
He picked out a simple pistol in the brightly advertised 'Try our pistols! Free!' shooting room. He held it in his hand.
Don't worry, Iggy. You can't control how things are. You can't control how you - or I - feel.
'Click'. He turned off the safety. It was a deadly, lethal weapon now.
I want you all to be happy. I want all of you to remember me strong.
His hand was shaking. He couldn't do it steadily on the side of his head, he knew that.
I'm weak now, too weak to recover. I need to do this.
He tucked the barrel into his mouth, angling it upward. Good. Steadier.
I'm so, so sorry.
He aimed for his brain through the roof of his mouth.
Iggy, I remember what happened so clearly.
He closed his eyes, the tears flowing freely now. The dam broke. His emotions nearly drowned him.
"I'm sorry, Fang," you said. "I just… don't… feel the same way. I'm so sorry."
He placed his index finger on the trigger.
All I could think of to say was a simple "Oh."
"No!" He heard the strawberry-blonde boy's scream.
Don't take it too personally, Iggy. It's my turn to be sorry.
Too late.
I'll always love you. I'm sorry.
He pulled the trigger.