He knew he loved her. There was no avoiding the fact. He still did, nothing could change that, probably never. It made this whole thing so much more unendurable to admit it to himself. If he had done something, gotten the flock away, would it have happened? Would she be there, sitting next to him?

He breathed once, deeply, and stared out the window. His hand was clenched into a fist, his body shaking slightly with the effort of keeping himself under control. He breathed slowly a few more times, each intake of air staggered and shaky. He could do this. He could carefully store away all his emotions, save them for later. Every muscle and brain cell and drop of moisture in his body was screaming at him to break down, to give up, to mourn the loss of the only reason he bothered living in the first place.

His whole body was shaking now, but he shut his eyes and thought of something, anything to distract him, while carefully locking his emotions in a box and throwing away the key. He was the leader now. He didn't have time for this.

He looked over at Nudge and Angel in the seat across from him, who both had fat tears rolling down their face. Angel would occasionally let out a sob, and all the passengers in the bus would glance over and forget her seconds later.

Fang was irrationally angry. Who were these people, to go along with their normal lives, without a care in the world? Didn't they know that Maximum Ride was gone forever? Didn't they care?

The Gasman was sitting behind Nudge and Angel, trying as hard as he could not to cry. Max had always called him her little trooper; he would be trying not to let her down. Iggy had his head resting against the window, his forehead bumping along with the bus as it rolled down the road. Fang couldn't see his face.

How had this happened? Why? What did he do to deserve this, this pain that was worse than anything he could have ever imagined? He closed his eyes again, gasping quietly. As tightly as he clenched his eyelids, he couldn't stop the tear that slid down his face.

For a moment, he thought he had lost control, but he straightened back up in his seat and opened his eyes. He could only imagine how dead they looked – about as dead as he felt inside.

But at least he had gotten it over with it. Now, at least, even though he hadn't expressed half of the emotion sitting in the back of his mind, he had succumbed to the pain for at least a few seconds, and it had seemed to help him slightly. He could save the rest for when he and the flock were safe, when he was alone with himself.

For now he would be the leader, silent, strong, and unemotional. Otherwise he wouldn't be able to function.

"Just stop, Fang," Iggy said. His voice was calm but Fang could hear the anger sitting somewhere behind it.

Fang looked up, not caring, his eyes feeling strangely empty.

"Stop pretending nothing happened, Fang! We all know she's – You can't go around pretending nothing's changed! Look at Angel," he motioned to her hair as she sobbed in his lap, and then kissed the top of her head. "Look at all of us, you especially! You're wearing them out, trying to make them pretend not to be sad. Just stop." He was pissed.

Fang shrugged, keeping his eyes firmly focused on the ground. "I never told you guys you had to pretend anything," he said. He didn't know what Iggy's problem was. He needed to pretend nothing happened. If he didn't, he would fall apart. Couldn't Iggy understand that?

"That's crap, and you know it. Just stop and let us…let us stay somewhere, rest, I don't care. Fang, you're falling apart. If you don't know it, I do, so you can stop pretending! We all need to stop pretending." He added in a whisper.

Fang didn't know what to say. "Fine," he said shortly, and let the subject drop. "Do we have any food? I guess the bag with all the food was with –" he broke off, and when he starting talking again his voice was oddly choked. "Well, I guess we need to go get some food, then. Iggy, you can take Gazzy and Nudge, Angel and I will find a place to crash for tonight."

His voice wasn't very leader-like at all, but the flock needed direction. This was going to be a long night.

----

Fang looked at Angel, who was sitting in his lap. She had fallen asleep crying fifteen minutes ago, but she was still clutching tightly to his jacket. She seemed happier in her sleep, smiling and muttering "Max."

Fang checked on all the other flock members, made sure they were all safe and sleeping. He knew a good leader would never abandon his flock, especially when he was supposed to be on watch, but if he had to hear her name one more time he was going to crack.

So he ran through the forest, the only sound of his movement coming from the soft grass underneath his feet. Finally he found a clearing, completely empty. Other people would have found the silence of the forest unnerving, but instead it comforted him.

He silently sat down on the ground, aware that he was losing it. He felt crazy. Nothing in the world mattered to him, except maybe the flock. The only thing he was aware of in the world is that Max wasn't in it anymore.

He wasn't sure of what happened next, but before he knew it, he was on the ground, with his head in his knees, sobbing – so quietly that it might not count as sobbing. Actually, he knew he was barely making a sound as he let the waves of anguish pass over him.

If there had been random passerby, they would have dismissed the look on his face as slightly sad or mildly disappointed. Maybe he had gotten a lower grade than he expected on a test, or maybe his parents had refused to let him go out to the movies. If some people were really good readers, they might have assumed, at the worst, that his girlfriend had dumped him. If Max was here she would think he was in extreme pain and rush to the flock to make sure everyone was okay.

Tears couldn't have fallen out of his eyes even if he had wanted them to. All he could do was sit there and cry quietly, muttering Max's name and wondering how he could have let this happen.

He would never see Max again. No matter what he did, for the rest of his life, he would never see her - smiling, laughing, eating, crying, flying, arguing, or even moving ever again. He accepted this as he sat with his arms in his knees, making quiet but odd half crying, half choking noises that seemed completely wrong – as a lot of emotions did – coming from him.

Time, these last few days, had for Fang seemed to flash by extremely quickly and move unbearably slowly at the same time, so when he finally looked up he had no idea how long he had been sitting there. It was still dark out, however, so he knew it wasn't morning. That meant there was a chance that the flock was still asleep.

He stood up, slightly dizzy with remaining emotion, and straightened his face back out. He looked around, his old paranoid self returning. He could see or hear no one, so for the moment he was safe. He hadn't been able to think clearly since Max – well, you know – and that didn't change now, but he was aware that if he didn't get back to the flock soon, they would start to worry.

Even so, he didn't feel like going back. He wasn't completely himself yet, and he wasn't sure he could bear it if Iggy started to yell at him again. The flock needed to rest, he had said. Let them stay somewhere for a while. Where, a hotel? Because that had just worked out so well last time, he thought.

The answer seemed to present itself to Fang. He had thought that the forest seemed vaguely familiar to him, but had been too confused and broken to recognize it. As he walked through a few more trees, he saw the house of Dr. Valencia Martinez.

It was dark out, but he could still see the small – at least, compared with Anne's – house in the clearing. He remembered seeing Dr. Martinez step out of the front door, watching Max and her embrace. The whole area was illuminated with moonlight, which probably should have made the house look slightly creepy, but somehow managed to make it look even safer and warmer compared with its eerie surroundings.

How could he not have recognized the area? Fang resisted the urge to smack his forehead with the palm of his hand. He needed to start paying attention to his surroundings. If he kept on this way, he would be putting the flock in danger by leading like this.

Then he corrected himself. This wasn't a coincidence. He thought about where he had been heading the flock the past few days, and realized his coming here hadn't been a coincidence at all. He had been leading them here the whole time.

Fang himself must have been, without knowing, searching for some comfort, or reminder of Max, or whatever the crap. He didn't feel like getting into his feelings. These days it always meant bad news.

Of course, Dr. Martinez would be surprised at seeing them back so quickly, and without Max, but it wasn't as if Fang could lie or hide it. After all, she was Max's mother, and deserved to know what had happened.

He turned on his heel and ran back through the forest to get the flock.

-----

Angel sat down. On the table was a large plate of freshly baked cookies. The smell reminded her of sitting at the table with Max, so she kind of smiled and cried at the same time.

It had the same effect on most of the rest of the flock. The look of always-sadness in their eyes didn't go away completely, but Nudge even smiled. It was her first that she had seen since Max had been gone, Angel noticed. That was good, at least.

She scanned the flock's thoughts, and found the usual - their current thoughts, thoughts about Max, thoughts about what would happen to them. Most of the time Angel couldn't stand listening to them being sad, because it just made her sadder. She mostly avoided it.

Fang was sitting on the couch away from the flock, as usual, his face hard and distant, as usual. Angel hadn't looked into his mind since the day after Max left and hadn't wanted to go back. Listening to his thoughts just made her want to cry whenever she tried. If she had thought she was sad, it was nothing compared to what she heard there. It was just private and so, so depressing. She gave him his space.

Now Angel focused her thoughts on him again. To her surprise, she didn't hear much, as, for the most part, he wasn't thinking anything. It wasn't like Jeb's mind had been at the school, though, the blank empty silence. It was like he was trying to keep the thoughts out of his head.

Angel jumped slightly as a picture of Max's face jumped to Fang's head. She watched him closely as he pushed it from his mind. She stared. His face was impassive, but his hand was clenched into a fist. She supposed everyone dealt with things differently, and Fang just didn't like to show it. That was okay with her, though.

Max would come back. Angel just knew she would.

When Max came back Fang would be happy again. She remembered when the flock had reunited, how relieved Fang had felt. He'd be super-excited when Max came back now. She pictured Max walking in through the door. They'd rush at each other like the first time, and Max would collapse in Fang's arms, and Fang would cry in her hair and ask wasn't she dead? And she'd say she never was, and he was tell her how much he was sad and missed her, and then they'd hug and maybe even kiss and tears would come out of Fang's eyes and it would all be pretty.

Fang hadn't cried since Max left, as far as Angel knew. That was weird. Wasn't everyone supposed to cry when they thought someone was dead? Fang was always like that, though. Angel had never once seen him cry. Not ever. Maybe that was what made Fang Fang, she supposed. Not crying. And loving Max. And being strong and liking girls and being a little cocky. That sounded about right.

He was having issues, though. She considered telling him that Max was coming back. He wouldn't believe her, though, she could tell. She should just let them be happy whenever.

The rest of the flock had cried too. Angel had caught Iggy crying in his room. Nudge cried all the time, loudly. Angel did, too. She knew a part of her believed Max was gone forever too. She tried not to listen to it, most of the time. Her brother was the worst, though. He blamed himself almost as much as Fang did. And Iggy. Maybe it was a boy thing. Or a blame-yourself-when-someone-else-dies thing.

Angel bit into a chocolate chip cookie. Maybe she could ask Max later.