A/N: I got the idea for this oneshot and decided just to go with it. This wasn't preplanned or carefully laid out, like most of my fics. So just roll with it! Not going to waste a lot of time on memories and descriptions and the whole wings thing, because pretty much anyone reading this already knows the characters.
This is set sometime after MR5. I'm not a big fan of the last two books, but since the Faxness is really big in the fifth book, I figured it would be the perfect setting for this story. This is my first try at something like this, so please review and tell me how I'm doing.
So enough of that. Enjoy!
"Fang?" I said, my voice trembling with hysteria. "Fang!"
I was kneeling down beside Fang, the flock standing over me with wide eyes. His eyes were closed and a stream of blood trickled from his parted lips. A nasty gash on the side of his head was bleeding heavily. I was frantic. How the M-Geeks managed to hurt Fang this badly was beyond me.
I quickly snapped into action. "Gaz, Nudge, find the first-aid kit. Iggy, could use your help over here. Angel, are you getting anything from him?"
Nudge and Gazzy ran over to the trees, where we had dropped our packs when we landed. Iggy sat down on the other side of Fang and reached out with his pale hand.
"He's got a mild fever," he murmured, his sightless eyes staring off into the distance as his hands gently touched Fang's forehead. "His breathing is okay, and his heart isn't working overtime. But," Iggy frowned, and touched the wound on the side of Fang's head. "We'll need to stop the bleeding, fast. He's lost a lot of blood already."
Without hesitation, Iggy pulled off his shirt and started tearing it into long strips. I gently lifted Fang's head, and Iggy slipped the makeshift bandages under. With quick precision, he tied the strips on the left side of Fang's head, avoiding the wound. I shuttered as a deep red tint spread along the gray cloth.
"I'm not getting anything, Max." Angel reported sadly. I was about to start panicking again when she quickly added, "But that's okay. It feels like he's sleeping."
Has Angel ever listened to someone's mind if they were unconscious? I wondered. Or is she just comparing being knocked out to sleeping? 'Cause they're not really close to the same thing if you're living it.
Nudge and Gazzy ran up, carrying the first-aid kit and two bottles of water. As Nudge ran by me, taking a few yards to slow down, I snatched the first-aid kit from her hands.
"Get a blanket." Iggy directed. Under most circumstances, I was the leader. Very, very few exceptions. But in this case, Iggy was better at first-aid than any of us. I mean, sure, most blind people couldn't help at all. But Ig was a special case. His sensitive fingers could detect almost any injury that others couldn't see.
I practically smashed the kit open in my urgency, and all of the supplies fell out. It was two precious seconds before I found the silver wrapping on the medical blanket. Urgently, I shredded the casing and handed it to Iggy. He covered Fang with the fittingly black blanket, tucking it in on the sides.
Iggy hesitated. "I don't think we should move him. He might have broken something."
"Well, what do we do?" I practically screeched.
He froze, which was my cue to start listening. Angel cried triumphantly, "He's waking up!"
I looked to Fang. The slight fluttering of his eyelids was the only hint that he was coming to. "Fang? Can you hear me?" I said hesitantly.
A small, almost inaudible groan came from Fang. I nearly collapsed with relief. He was going to be okay. I didn't know how long I'd last without Fang.
Suddenly, Fang rolled toward Iggy and convulsed violently. Iggy jumped back as Fang vomited on the grass. Though I couldn't see it, the smell was enough to make me gag.
A moment later, Fang collapsed on the ground, trembling and pale. Not knowing what else to do, I covered him with the blanket again and unscrewed the top on a water bottle.
Slowly, Fang's dark eyes blinked open. His gaze shifted slowly from me, to Iggy, and then to Angel, Nudge and Gazzy, who were still standing behind me. Angel was hugging her teddy bear, Celeste, since Total and Akila weren't with us. They had decided to take a vacation, and were staying with my mom and Ella for a little while. I knew how much Angel missed them, but she never said anything. My little trooper.
"Oh my gosh, Fang!" Nudge exclaimed. "You had us all so worried! We were all flying and then I those M-Geeks threw a net over you and you, like, dropped out of the sky! Max tried to catch you but she couldn't and then you got snagged on a tree branch and then you fell! Do you remember? And then we all came down to make sure you're okay. You are okay, right?"
Fang blinked. "Who?"
"Oh, no." Angel whispered in horror.
My adrenaline spiked. I whirled to face her and demanded, "What?"
She swallowed nervously, hugging Celeste closer. "He doesn't remember."
"The fall? The attack?"
"Anything."
I almost went into shock. I didn't have to ask if Angel was sure. She was the mind reader; it's kind of hard to totally miss everything Fang may or may not have been thinking. She wouldn't have told me unless she was sure. There was absolutely no chance that this wasn't totally real.
I could sense the flock's horror from my secluded state. Details became fuzzy; I closed my eyes to be alone with my thoughts. How could Fang have amnesia? He just fell with a net over him. He didn't even go straight to the ground, either. He was hanging from that tree branch for a few seconds before it broke. It was only a few meters to the ground. He could've stood that. It shouldn't have caused any injury.
Oh, Fang. I felt detached and hollow. I had finally accepted that Fang and I could be more than friends. We had kissed, passionately. He loved me. He told me so himself. And I was starting to believe I loved him back.
How could he not remember that?
"Fang," I heard Iggy say, his voice trembling slightly. "Fang, tell me what you remember."
"Who," I heard Fang say, "is Fang?"
That broke my shell, and I cried out in grief. Tears streamed down my face. I never, ever cried. But this was worse than loosing Fang.
He didn't remember me. He didn't even remember himself.
"You are," Gazzy said, his voice cracking. I could hear he was he was crying too.
"I'm Fang?" he confirmed. "My head hurts. What happened?"
"We were flying," Iggy said bleakly. "We were attacked. They threw a net over you. You fell."
Fang seemed to ponder this. It took all of my strength to open my eyes and look at him. It wasn't the strong, emotionless Fang I had always known. This Fang was curious and naive, like a five-year-old kid.
Fang started to stand. Iggy helped him up. I stayed where I was, curled in a fetal position on the ground. It was too much for me to handle. I could stand kidnapping, broken bones, and fight like nobody's business. But this was different.
I felt someone pry the water bottle out of my hands, and looked up into Gazzy's blue eyes. He looked scared, and I wished I could do something to reassure him that everything was going to be okay. But any comforting word would've been a lie. So I said nothing.
Gazzy stood and handed Fang the water bottle. He gave him a grateful look and rinsed his mouth out, spitting the bloody water onto the grass.
"Why don't I remember?" Fang asked, handing the bottle back to Gazzy, who capped it.
"You have amnesia," Angel told him. "You must have hit your head when you fell. Maybe your memory will come back."
"Yeah!" Nudge piped up with a hopefulness that was almost painful to hear. "I saw a TV show on that once. This guy was in a car accident and he flew through the windshield and got amnesia. And he wandered around for a few days and saw a bunch of people he was supposed to know. I didn't get to see the ending, so I don't know if he got his memory back or not. But I think he did, because they couldn't just end a TV show without a happy ending."
Gee, thanks, Nudge, I thought sourly. 'Cause real life always has a happy ending. Especially one full of mad scientists who force DNA strands together to create mutants like us. Who wouldn't think that was a nice, happy ending? I was starting to believe there was no such thing as happy endings. No, scratch that. I knew there was no such thing as a happy ending, and had known it for a very long time.
"I want to see if I remember how to fly." Fang announced, shrugging off the medical blanket to reveal his dark, beautiful wings tucked against his T-shirt.
"Uh, bad idea." I interjected as little red flags started waving frantically in my head. "Flying is what almost got you killed."
Max? Angel's voice said in my head. I nearly jumped out of my skin with surprise. My own head wasn't even private anymore. Between the Voice and Angel, even the deepest reveries of my mind weren't safe.
Yeah, sweetie? I thought back wearily.
I think Fang remembers how to fly. It's like an instinct that's still in his head. And......well, the M-Geeks called for backup. There are, like, twenty more coming our way.
Oh, thanks Angel. Why didn't you mention this earlier? I wanted to scream it at her, but held my tongue.
"Guys, go get your packs. We've got to get out of here. Fang, listen up." I said, trying to scrounge what was left of my leadership and dignity. I had to pull myself together, for the flock's sake. We weren't safe yet. As the younger flock members ran to the trees, I stood up and said, "Run, jump, spread your wings and flap. I'll guide you through the rest. Look."
Making sure Fang was watching, I ran forward and hurled myself into the air, pumping my wings hard. I did a tight, half circle around the field and landed again just as the kids returned.
The three younger flock members already had their packs on. Iggy had put on a spare shirt from his bag, but kept the last of the old shirt. I took both my pack and Fang's. I wasn't going to take the risk that the pack would somehow throw Fang off balance during the flight.
"Angel, Nudge, Gazzy. U and A." I directed. Immediately, they all jumped into the air. Higher, I urged Angel, knowing she would hear me. Within seconds, the three of them were circling a few hundred feet above our heads.
"Ig, you're next. Fang, go right after him. I'll be behind you."
Iggy ran forward, spread his pale wings and joined the others in the sky. I held my breath as I watched Fang sprint forward and launch himself into the sky. His dark wings caught the light of the fading sun and seemed to sparkle.
This wasn't the clumsy, awkward attempt of someone new to flying. It was Fang's take-off. The number of steps and precise timing matched exactly. Somewhere, however deep, Fang was still in there. I just knew it.
I jumped into the air and flew next to Fang as we circled higher. "Does it feel familiar?" I asked, aching for him to say yes. It was the only thing that would fill my hollow heart. I wanted Fang back. He couldn't just be gone. Not after all we'd been through.
"Kind of. I don't remember flying or learning how to fly, but this comes easily. It's kind of cool."
Part of me was relieved. Fang remembered how to fly; maybe there was hope he could get his memory back. The other part of me thought these little similarities meant nothing, and Fang was taking on a totally different personality. That was almost too scary to consider.
"Max?" Nudge banked and came up on my other side after an hour of flying. "I know this is a bad time and all, but I'm hungry. Like, really hungry. I feel like I haven't eaten in a decade. Could we, like, find a town somewhere and get some food? I'm in the mood for Italian. Ooh, or maybe Chinese. Or we could –"
"Yeah, sure Nudge." I agreed wearily. Did I want to stop? No. Did we need to stop? No, especially since Nudge had just had four energy-bar thingies less than two hours ago. Those were supposed to last someone for hours! I was tempted to tell the flock just to eat whatever was in their packs, but decided against it.
We were flying North-West through Wyoming. I expected that we would pass Yellowstone National Park late tomorrow. Wyoming was flat and dull, with towns few and far between. According to the map that Iggy had so thoughtfully picked up (but couldn't read), we were close to a place called Dubois. Wherever that was. But it was the closest thing I could find, so I angled my wings and started towards its general direction.
Max?
Nope, for one, it wasn't Angel in my head. Or my own sarcastic consciousness. It was the Voice. Oh goodie. I sure hoped it had some good news about Fang; otherwise, I totally wasn't in the mood.
Max, what's wrong with Fang?
Well, this was new. Usually the Voice knew what was going on around me, sometimes better than I did. Maybe this wasn't the real Voice; maybe Jeb was butting in again.
Hi, Jeb. I'd say it's nice to hear from you, but I'd be lying. Fang's fine.
Jeb was fooling himself if he thought I was going to admit any weakness my flock may or may not have. My Mom might trust him, but she wasn't here right now. I remained tight-lipped. So to speak.
He's got amnesia, doesn't he?
Well, that blew my plan out of the water. Reluctantly, I answered. Yeah, he does. Is there any way to get his memory back?
Silence. I was just about to demand answers when the Voice spoke (if you can call it speaking) again.
It's…possible. But not much more than that. He has a good, stable memory because of his avian DNA. I really don't know what to tell you, but I'll look into it. Until then, you can always hope.
Yeah, right. My best friend/boyfriend suddenly didn't remember me, and the Voice was telling me not to give up. That's cheesy fortune-cookie junk. Not that I was planning to give up. I would never do that.
Suddenly I realized just how hard Fang had worked for me. He was always there when I needed him, the only exception being the time the flock split up. He put up with me kissing Sam back at Anne's house. And when Fang finally got up the courage to kiss me, I rejected him. Several times. But he never gave up on me. Even when I realized I liked him back, he was ready with open arms, despite the difficulties before.
Fang had never given up on me. I promised myself that I would never give up on him. Ever.
The Voice had no more to say. We were nearing Dubois, and I coaxed the flock to a height where we couldn't be seen below. I watched Fang for any signs of trouble, or even strain, but there was none. He was perfectly fine. Well, except for the amnesia thing. Fine other than that.
Since the city was still bustling at this late in the afternoon, we landed a few miles out of the city and walked into it. Fang landed perfectly, too, in the same way he always did. Walking was terribly slow, so it took us about twenty minutes to get into the central area of the city.
Nudge wanted to go somewhere fancier to eat, rather than greasy fast-food. I did, too, but we really didn't have money for quality food if we planned to stay in a hotel tonight. Besides, I didn't want to go into a restaurant and have Fang ask, "What do I like to eat?" That would've sent me over the edge.
So we settled on dumpster-diving in some restaurant's trash that night. Fang, I'm happy to report, was okay with that and ate what I expected him to eat. I didn't want to get my hopes up too far, but the similarities between this Fang and the old Fang were remarkable.
"How about this one?" Nudge passed me another brochure to go with my pile. We were in one of those rest-stop places where there are wall-to-wall advertisements on tourist attractions and hotels. The flock was busy trying to find a decent place within our budget. We didn't feel like wandering around the city until we found a hotel. It wasn't easy, considering our budget was pretty measly. At least we didn't have to find one that allowed pets, since Total was on vacation. That was one thing to be thankful for, I supposed.
"It's pretty cheap," Nudge continued. "We can afford two rooms with our budget, each with two beds."
I was exhausted, angry, frustrated, and scared to death about what was happening with Fang. I was more than ready to find a hotel with a cushy bed and sleep over the day's events. "That'll work," I told Nudge. "Let's go."
We arrived at the hotel an hour later. We didn't have any trouble – like, at all. The M-Geeks didn't spontaneously attack us, the Voice hadn't bugged me about saving the world, and nobody did anything stupid like decide they wanted to try and out-fly a plane. I was too depressed to be grateful.
"Two rooms for tonight, please." I told the receptionist. She glanced over us with a frown, and I imagined what she saw. Six kids in desperate need of a bath. Three young children in torn cloths. One teenager with a makeshift bandage around his head, looking around with curiosity. One tall teenage boy in dark sunglasses who kept touching things and muttering to himself. Not exactly the ideal customers.
Without comment, she handed us our room keys. I took them gratefully, but paused when I realized she had given us three keys. I was about to comment and return one key, when Angel stepped on my foot. I glanced down at her, and her look told me to be quiet. Realizing just how stupid it would be to give up the extra room, I shut my mouth. We'll talk about his later, I warned Angel, but she merely smirked.
The hotel was nearly empty, so it wasn't hard for the receptionist (cough Angel cough) to find us three rooms, side-by-side. They were fairly nice, with two twin beds, an ancient TV and a small bathroom in each. They weren't connected, which was okay by me. If anything happened to Fang, Iggy and Angel would likely be the first to know, and alert the rest of us.
Nudge and Angel bunked together in the first room. Iggy and Gazzy claimed the third room. Ig's reasoning was that the windows were the easiest to open, in case the Gasman……well, you know. I knew it was a lie, but didn't argue. Iggy just didn't want to share a room with Fang. He was having trouble dealing. To be honest, I didn't mind. If something happened to Fang, I wanted to be right there.
And so there I was, sitting against the backboard of one of the beds and staring out at the hotel parking lot below. Fang was in the shower. I had already had one, and my hair was still dripping wet. It was around nine, and after the day they had, most of the flock had already gone to sleep. I was on watch, but Fang was going to stay up with me.
I had a plan. More of an idea, really. As soon as Fang was done showering and dressed, I was going to try to bring his memory back. I didn't know how, or what could happen. I only knew that if there was a chance that I could bring Fang's memory back, I would take it.
The water clicked off from the bathroom. I closed my eyes, focusing on the details of my life. Everything from my earliest memories in a dog crate to almost-loosing Nudge when she wanted a normal life. Then I tried to see things from Fang's perspective; to pick out the details that were most important to him.
Fang came out of the bathroom. My eyes snapped open. I was ready.
"Fang." I said curtly. He turned, his dark, wet hair covering one eye. He was still dressed in black, which was a slight comfort. I motioned for him to sit on the bed with me. Fang silently crossed the room and in the middle of the bed, by my feet.
For a moment, I stared at him. His face – his dark, mysterious eyes – that I had grown to know so well now suddenly seemed less familiar. I had to change that. Some people say they feel numb when dealing with loss. I didn't. I felt the pain, raw, burning inside of me. Nothing would help. Not the warm, usually-relaxing water of the shower, not flying, not eating……I doubted even Valium would help. No, there was only one thing that could help me – Fang. This was my one shot to get him back. If it didn't work, not only had I failed Fang, but I had failed myself.
I shook my head, pushing away all other thoughts with my intense focus. I took a deep breath, and began.
"Tell me everything you remember."
Fang glanced at me, then back at his hands, which were folded on the table. "The first thing I remember is you standing over me."
"Where?"
"In that field. Iggy said we were flying."
"Iggy. You remember Iggy?" I wasn't sure how I felt about this. As the pain started to overwhelm me again, I gritted my teeth and tried to focus. It was progress.
"No. You said his name in the field."
So much for progress, I thought bitterly.
"What are the flock's names?"
"You're Max. Angel is the smallest girl, with blonde hair. The Gasman is the youngest boy. Iggy's the tall, blind one. Nudge is the African-American girl. And I'm Fang."
"How did you know that?" I leaned forward.
"You said everyone's names back in the field."
I sighed. This wasn't working.
"The School." I paused, to see if he would react. He didn't. Not even the slightest flicker of his eye. I took a breath and continued. "We grew up there. In dog crates. The whitecoats did experiments on us. That's why we have wings."
Nothing. No reaction. He said, "So nobody else has wings?"
"Besides us, no. That's why we're on the move so much."
Fang nodded. I watched him carefully as I continued. "We grew up there. When you, Iggy and I were ten years old, Jeb Batchelder kidnapped us away from the School and brought us to a house in the mountains of New Mexico. "
I pulled out the notepad and pen I had found in the room, both stamped with the hotel logo. As I spoke, I began sketching an image of our old house.
"We lived there, all six of us, for two years. He taught us how to fly. We would spend hours running down hills, jumping off our roof, doing whatever we could to learn how to fly. For weeks. You and I learned first, about at the same time. Then we helped Iggy. Angel was about three, and Gazzy was five, so they didn't learn until later."
I ripped the paper off the notebook, but didn't hand it to Fang. It was an overview of the house, which was shaped like an E on its side. I had drawn circles where the trees where, and the forest ran off the paper. On the clean sheet of paper, I started a drawing that showed the house from the side. The bedroom windows were visible, along with the beams that kept the house stable on the hill.
"Do you remember anything now?"
"No."
I kept drawing. Most people are visual learners; maybe if I showed Fang a picture of the house, he would remember it. It was a feeble hope. I was right in front of him, yet he didn't remember me.
I finished the second drawing and put it aside, starting on a third. It was the view from Fang's bedroom window. I didn't remember it very well, but I thought Fang might. He had looked out it every day for almost four years.
Finally, I placed all three drawings in front of Fang. He looked them over. I could feel my hope fading as Fang didn't react.
I pointed to the first drawing, my finger sliding across the page as I spoke. "That's our house, from above. You're bedroom was here; mine was here. Iggy's room was over here, next to Gazzy's, and Angel and Nudge shared a room over here. The kitchen was here, and it joined into the living room."
Another idea came to me, and I sketched a series of shapes on a fourth sheet of paper. "This was your room. The dresser was here, in the corner. You're bed was against this wall, and the window was near the headboard. The closet was right over there, but you usually didn't use it. You let Iggy keep some of his bombs in there." I smiled at the memory, but felt no better revisiting my stolen past.
"This was the view from your bedroom window." I said, pointing to the third drawing. I moved back to the second drawing, saying, "And this was an outside view of the house."
"You keep saying 'was'." Fang said softly. "What happened?"
I took a breath. If Fang didn't remember one of the most significant changes in our life, was there hope of getting his memory back after all?
"Erasers attacked. They're another experiment from the School. But while we've got avian genes, they've got lupine genes – wolf. They can morph from humans to wolfish-people within seconds. They just dropped out of the sky and….and took Angel."
I swallowed, and continued to tell Fang about, well, everything. It felt strange, recounting memories that Fang and I should've shared. I was so ready to have him back, I didn't stop. No detail was left out. It took hours, recapping everything – Ari, Angel's rescue, Dr. Martinez and Ella, Itex, the sewers of New York….the list went on. Every person, every significant mad scientist, every attack or painful moment. I was careful to explain details as they happened. I didn't know if it would help or not, but it was worth a shot.
Nothing happened. Fang didn't jump up suddenly and shout, "I remember that!" or anything else. He just sat there, silently absorbing my words. It quickly unnerved me. But I kept talking, and talking, until it was well past midnight.
Still nothing. I even went into some of the very special things Fang had said to me. It shouldn't have felt as awkward as it did. It was just conversations between Fang and me……so why did it feel like I was recounting such personal things to a complete stranger?
I pressed on, unwilling to give up. As painful as it was to admit, I even told him about Lissa and Sam. I gave him the best descriptions I could of them, since I was sure my drawings weren't good enough to give him a decent visual.
Nothing helped.
I'm not going to give up, I ordered myself, gritting my teeth. Not only was this extremely embarrassing and frustrating, I felt like I wanted to curl up and cry as the pain resurfaced. I couldn't take it any more. I needed a break.
Without warning, I stood up and burst outside into the cold, night air. Fang looked alarmed, and stood up. I banged on the door of the room that Iggy and the Gasman were sharing.
"Iggy, get out here." I called, not really caring if I woke up any other guests. Normally, Iggy was one of the slowest people to get up. Not tonight. I heard a muffled thump, and a moment later Iggy appeared at the door, dressed only in sweatpants. He towered over me, his strawberry blonde hair sticking up and sightless eyes wide in alarm.
"What's wrong?" he demanded.
"I – I need you to talk to Fang." I said, fighting to keep my voice from trembling. "I've talked to him all night, trying to bring his memory back."
Without a word, Iggy moved past me and went into the room Fang and I shared, closing it behind him. I didn't intrude, instead choosing to lean on the hallway rail, trying to hold in the tears.
Iggy spoke with Fang for another hour. I could just make out the murmur of his voice, but none of the words. I thought I heard my name a few times, but couldn't be sure.
I was almost asleep on the handrail when Iggy came out, saying, "Max? You want to come in?"
I nodded dumbly and followed Ig into the room. Fang was still sitting on the bed. Dark circles had begun to form under his eyes, and I made a note to make this quick and let him sleep.
Iggy sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair, only succeeding in making hit look like he had stuck his tongue in an electrical socket. "You seem to have covered the history pretty well, so I, uh, told him about you. You and him. I didn't seem to help." He added cautiously.
I flushed crimson. Great, my friend and my boyfriend talking about me behind my back. I took a breath and admitted to myself that, in the current situation, it was probably necessary. Too bad it didn't work.
"Max?" Fang said hesitantly. "I'm sorry. For all of this."
I stared at him in amazement. "Sorry? You have no reason to be sorry." I went to sit beside him on the bed. "This isn't your fault."
Fang reached over and took my hand. It was a simple gesture that I had gotten used to recently. But that was before Fang had lost his memory. Now it was a huge, critical breakthrough. It was hope.
Iggy took that as his cue to leave, and closed the door behind him quietly. How he knew we were holding hands, I couldn't tell, but that's just Iggy for you.
"It is," Fang said softly, looking into my eyes. I felt my heart thump heavily in my chest. "Iggy told me what was going on between us from his point of view. It sounded so……wonderful. I'm sorry that I lost my memory. But I'm even more sorry that you had to suffer for it, too."
I broke down and started crying on Fang's shoulder. I missed him so much. If all the recapping by me and Iggy hadn't brought Fang's memory back, I was starting to give up. I would never leave Fang, of course. I promised him that. But it looked like getting his memory back was no longer an option.
Fang stroked my hair with one hand, the other still holding mine. I brought my free hand up to wipe away some of the tears, but ended up leaving it on his shoulder. The tears flowed like a river, and I gave up on fighting them back. It felt good to cry. At least, better than keeping it bottled up inside.
I raised my head, and found myself gazing into Fang's dark eyes. On an impulse, I leaned forward to kiss him. He didn't move away, like I had so many times.
Fang knew. Fang understood.
I hadn't intended the kiss to be as intense as it was. I had expected it to be brief, innocent. But my emotions were running so strong, it didn't turn out that way.
The best part? Fang kissed me back.
Slowly, Fang wrapped his arms around me, holding me close to him. Untamable tears continued to stream down my cheek. I leaned closer to Fang, loving the feel of his heartbeat under my fingertips. I didn't want it to end. I wanted Fang to hold me like this forever.
Fang pulled away first, gasping a breath. "Max?" he said, his voice a strange blend of excited and incredulous. He paused, seeming speechless.
"Yeah?" I said, curious now.
"I……Max!"
He pulled me into a tight embrace. I didn't resist, not quite sure what to think.
"Max, oh Max….I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
Fang pulled away and held me at arms-length. His eyes were bright and had that familiar gleam in them. I felt my heart skip a beat. Could……?
"Max. I remember."
I didn't move. I think I went into shock. Fang was back? For real?
"Fang?" I whispered hoarsely. And then it hit me – Fang was back.
Fang didn't reply; just pulled me closer. I tilted my chin up and we kissed again, more passionately than ever before. A fresh round of tears began their way down my cheek; only, these were tears of happiness.
Fang was back. He remembered the flock, our adventures and troubles, the good times and bad times and everything in between. I loved him so much.
Somewhere between my sobs and our kisses, I remembered the promise I had made.
"Fang had never given up on me. I promised myself that I would never give up on him. Ever."
I pulled back and looked at Fang. His eyes were bright and alive with the heat of the moment. "Fang," I whispered. "I promise. I promise, Fang. I'll never give up on you. I'll always be here. I promise."
He looked at me, a smile lighting up his features. "Me too. I promise I'll never abandon you. "
This brought a new round of tears flooding down my cheeks. It felt so good to have Fang back; such a wonderful feeling that overwhelmed me, like I would never be anything less than perfectly happy ever again. It might have just been the heat of the moment, but somehow I knew – I knew that no matter what happened, no matter who tried to come between us, Fang and I would always be together.
Because that's the way it was meant to be.
A/N: Aww, such a sad/happy ending! I almost cried! I'm actually very happy with the ending, especially since it's not the style I usually write with. I seriously thought about not giving Fang his memory back. But one of my friends suggested it would make readers happier if Fang did get his memory back, so that's how I ended up writing it. I'm pleased with it how it ended up.
Oh, one other important thing – the last line is from the Pendragon series by D. J. MacHale. It just fit, so I decided to put it in. If you haven't read that series, I highly recommend them. They are as good as Maximum Ride, if not better.
Please review! I really want to know how I did with this story.
