Disclaimer: Oh, these things again. Maximum Ride isn't mine. If it was, Fax would probably still be there, just not as sickeningly overwhelming. Ari wouldn't have died. Mr. Chu and Dr. Hans-what's-his-face would be replaced by villains who actually intimidate. A lot of things would happen differently. So, obviously, it's not mine.
I'm warning you, if you don't like Miggy, leave now. There's no point in screaming at me, "Miggy sucks! FAX FOREVERRR" because I support Fax just as much as I support Miggy. That doesn't mean I can't write about it, though.
- Absence -
Max was a lifeless lump in the middle of her bed, tangled and empty and silent. Beautiful, still, even though he couldn't see her face, hadn't seen it in far too long. But beautiful.
Iggy brushed past her and pushed open the curtains to her window. Sunlight poured over his skin, hot like the life that should have filled Max's motionless form. By the warmth, he knew it was already late afternoon. Max hadn't come out from her room since Fang left. Since Fang hopped out the door and left the flock directionless, aimless without its appointed rock.
Mr. Rock, Iggy recalled with a faint, bitter smile. That's what we called you, but we never imagined you would be as cold-hearted as one.
A brief spike of guilt ripped through him - Fang had only been trying to protect them, to save them from himself - but he pushed it away at a miserable moan from Max. Using his sensitive fingertips as his guide, he made his way back to her bed and sat down.
"Max? You awake?" he asked, reaching out a hand. His fingers brushed against her hair. He pictured its color in his mind: deep, rich gold, streaked through with so many strands of brown that it was impossible to tell if she was blond or brunette. When he'd been younger and still had his eyes, he remembered thinking it was the prettiest hair he'd ever seen. Now it was sticky beneath his fingers with dried sweat, oil and tears, but he didn't care. He probably didn't look much better.
"Go away," Max muttered from beneath her blankets. Iggy frowned at her.
"Max, you can't stay in bed all day."
From the pile of blankets came her voice, muffled and groggy and still grieving. Still grieving. "Leave me alone, Iggy."
I can't, he wanted to say, but didn't. Because she loved Fang. Because she had always loved him, and his absence left her a sloppy, sobbing pile of raw emotions.
"I'll sit here until you get up," Iggy warned her.
"Be my guest." He felt the sheets shift and pull as she burrowed further into her blankets, cutting herself off from the world. From him. The thought hurt, but so did everything, now that Fang was gone.
"You can't stay here. We need you," Iggy said quietly. She didn't move, and he sighed. "Max, the flock needs you. Nudge hasn't done a five-minute rant on makeup since you holed up in here. Gazzy doesn't want to make bombs, and Angel's not talking to anyone. Come on."
Still no response. The urge to grab her by her ankles and drag her out of bed was almost overwhelming. Iggy clenched his hands into fists and waited for the anger to drain out of him.
I promised myself I would protect you, he thought in frustration. I promised I would take care of you.
He still remembered the exact moment he'd made that promise, so many years ago, back when he and Max had been small things tucked into cages, shaking and afraid. He still remembered the way her tiny, peach-colored hand had reached out to him from between constricting bars. Even if he never saw anything more than an endless sea of black, every day of his life, he could still picture Max peering out at him from her cage with wide brown eyes and an expectant smile on her battered face. He could still see the dried blood on her hand where an Eraser had bitten her in aimless viciousness.
"I'm Max," she said, and her voice rang in his ears like a challenge, like the fear of a little girl who thought even her name could be taken away from her.
It might have been the blood on her small hand, or the look in her eyes - frightened, challenging, curious - that made him promise. That made him swear to protect her from anything and everything that threatened her.
Even the feelings of her own unguarded heart.
Iggy stuck by her side even in the worst situations. He was there when Ari and the Erasers attacked the E-shaped house for the first time. He'd tried so hard to fight through to her, to get to her side and keep her safe, but he'd taken an uppercut to his chin and gone done before the fight even got started.
Failed.
He'd tried to argue with her when she voted that he and Gazzy stay behind while she and the others rescued Angel. He had fought her with all his might, all his anger, glared at her so harshly he knew it hurt her to say no and leave him behind. But she did. He should have fought harder to stay with her.
Failed.
Then, much later, when she had broken Ari's neck in the sewage tunnel, and had come out shaken and terrified of herself, and she had shoved the feelings into her pocket and pretended they didn't exist. And Iggy let her.
Failed.
It hurt, to fail her so much, and love her so much at the same time. Because he knew he loved her, had since she reached her hand out and held his while they were tiny kids willing to hold onto anything to keep themselves alive. He loved her fight, her passion, her humor and undaunted will to live.
And she chose Fang.
Jealousy wasn't new to Iggy, but the white-hot surge of betrayal that swept through him every time he heard them together, or heard the silence that meant they were kissing, or just the silent bond that they had formed, a bond that would not be broken, was. It scared him.
So he'd voted them out. When Angel had cast the vote that would ultimately lead to Fang's death and resurrection, he cast Max out without so much as lowering his sightless eyes in guilt.
Failed.
Not this time.
Iggy sucked in a deep breath and said sharply, "Max, don't do this. Don't you dare leave us like Fang did!"
Max shot up, and he might have been blind but he felt the heat of her hateful glare on his skin and it burned.
"Don't talk about him like that!" She shrieked. "Don't even compare me to that...that..."
She trailed off and crumpled, like all the stale air had gone out of her and she'd collapsed in on herself. Iggy knew she was strong, that she would get over Fang's well-intended mistake, but now she sobbed like a tiny broken child and buried her face in his shoulder. And because he loved her, he wrapped his arms around her shaking shoulders and held her while her grief streaked his shirt. He kept still and let her hold onto him as she'd done when they were small.
Because he loved her. And she loved him too, even if it wasn't in the way he wanted her to.
But it was enough. It was enough.
A/N: Oh, Iggy. Never gets the girl.
Please review.
-Kimsa