I own nothing, except these incidents. James Patterson is the master of Max, Angel, Jeb, Ella, Gazzy, Angel…pretty much every character in here.

Gazzy is five, Angel is three.

"Gazzy? What you doin?" Little Angel hobbled on her short little legs toward her brother, plopping down on her rear next to him.

"I'm making a race car, Angie!" The Gasman gushed, grinning at her. "You can be my co-driver! You and me can be the fastest racers ever!" Angel beamed like three-year-olds do, then blushed.

"Put Angew's name on it?" She requested, batting her eyes.

Gazzy nodded enthusiastically. His racecar was a big cardboard box that the new fridge had come from, decorated with red and blue markers and smothered with duct tape.

And then Fang knelt down next to them, a sliver of a smile on his face. "Here you go, Gazzy." He handed him a paper plate with a pin stuck in the middle, made as a steering wheel."

"Thanks, Fang!" Gazzy smiled up at him, then stabbed the pin and plate into the cardboard, securing the back of the wheel on the 'car' with a wad of duct tape.

Then, in his uneven, scrunchy handwriting, he wrote on the side of the car: Angel and Gasman Speeder

Angel's small face lit up like a church Christmas tree, and squealed in delight as her sibling lifted her up high and gently set her down in his creation, attaching the duct tape seat belt on the base of the box.

The angelic little girl grabbed the wheel and stared seriously ahead. Gazzy picked up Nudge's pink and purple bike helmet and set it down on her head, before sliding some swimming goggles over her eyes.

"Vrrrroooooom…" Gazzy deepened his voice and it morphed into a throaty growl exactly like the hum of a car.

He gave the makeshift vehicle a mighty shove, and Angel screamed triumphantly.

Running through the house and pushing a yowling toddler in a box, the Gasman couldn't be happier.

Gazzy is seven, Angel is five.

"GAZZY!" Angel yelled, rocketing forward and almost bowling over her brother.

"Yeah, Tootsie?" He grinned teasingly. Angel scrunched up her features and glared. "I don't poot like you do!"

"Suuuuure." The Gasman rubbed her back and peeled her off of him. "So what was so important that you had to tackle me for?"

Angel blushed. "I drew a picture."

She held up a piece of printer paper, smothered with glitter glue and barely comprehendible.

On it were Max, with a golden yarn tangle for hair, Fang, who was dressed in black electrical tape, Iggy and his uncooked macaroni hair, Nudge in brown paint and a Kit Kat wrapper, all holding hands. Near them was Gazzy, which was easily the best of the drawings. Instead of a stick body, he actually had features, with flaxen doll hair and baby blue eyes. Holding his hand was Angel, with identical materials, and little white wings.

And then there was Jeb, who looked hastily drawn in with no 3-D hair or clothes.

Even though it was messy, the Gasman loved it.

"That's beautiful, Tootsie."

"Thank you, Bubba."

Gazzy is eight, Angel is six.

It was a nice view and sunset, matched with a luxurious hotel and a balcony overlooking the Colorado River.

Angel and Gazzy leaned over the edge of the smooth railing, excitedly pointing at the leaping fish only they could see with their excellent vision.

Angel held Celeste by the paw, the bear's dress now looking more ivory than the pure white it once was.

"What kind of fish is that, Bubba?" Angel pointed with her bear.

"Dunno. Maybe trout. Or salmon."

"Salmon is yum- NO!" The child shouted as a sudden gust of wind carried Celeste from her grasp and down, down, towards the rushing river.

Before Angel could leap off the edge, Gazzy launched himself off the railing and dropped down, fanning his wings out a swooping towards the churning water.

"GAZZY!" Angel's bone-chilling scream almost convinced him to come back up, but Gazzy continued.

And then the water seemed like it was rushing to meet him.

His sister's howling fell to a faint humming in his ears.

The breath he had been holding left him in a whoosh. The Gasmen was wrenched violently down into the cold water, as if a hand had him by the ankle and was slowly dragging him to his death.

He thrashed as hard as he could, struggling for air. He had to get up. He had to get Celeste. For Angel, Angie, Ange, his baby sister…

Gazzy blearily opened his eyes, the water making it hard to see. Immediately a white speck raced past his peripheral vision. The boy swerved, and launched himself towards the toy, tucking his arms and legs in and thrusting them out like he saw in that movie about the Hawaiian girl and the blue dog/alien.

It worked. He came close to Celeste, and in that achingly slow way he grabbed it by the neck and shoved it into his overly large windbreaker pocket. You naughty, naughty bear. Angel won't be such an angel to you once you get back.

Great. He was talking to a bear.

Only then did the Gasman realize his lungs were burning and his limbs were going numb.

Her stared up, but only saw black. No light at the surface like in those movies.

The kid felt like he was going to gag, and it wasn't like that time he went scuba diving with Iggy and (he gulped, though it just made his lungs ache more) Angel, where he could just pop the breather back into his mouth. The breather was feet above him now.

And then…he grinned.

There was Angel, though her form looked slightly wavy and blurry. She smiled at him, and he heard her voice say clearly in his head, Blow out, Bubba. Look at the bubbles.

He did as he was told, and a trail of bubbles streamed from his mouth. The strange thing was they went down…

You're upside-down, Gaz. Turn.

But he couldn't move anymore. The feeling in his arms and legs was gone.

Go, Gazzy! Go now! SWIM! Fang is gonna get you! Hold on just a little longer! COME ON! SWIM!

Angel's mind voice seemed more distant than before. More muffled.

Wow. Gazzy was tired. And his chest hurt so bad…he could just close his eyes, escape from it all…that would be nice.

He felt himself being yanked upward, and heard a low, bubbly voice. "C'mon, Gaz…swim, kid!"

Angel was right. Fang had come to get him.

Oh, it was glorious! In his half-passed out mind, a blurry feeling of delight and relief swept over him as a tiny breath of air came into his awaiting lungs.

Then a rough smack in the face as he was shaken from his dreaming state, the water rising in his throat. He rolled over onto his stomach and coughed his guts up, and only dimly felt someone slapping his back. Iggy. The loyal best friend.

Then he stopped gagging and lay on the cool deck, shuddering as the precious air entered his mouth and exited through his nose.

"Gazzy? I'm so sorry." Angel's voice entered through his misery, all weepy and guilty.

"Angie." He rasped, his throat rubbed raw by the violent river. The Gasman smiled and sat up, still numb from the cold water and feeling sick, and observed the scene.

Nudge was sobbing silently, Fang was in the back staring intently at him and dripping water, Iggy was crouched by him looking concerned, and Max…Max looked serious.

That bothered him. If it had been Angel or Fang, she would have been bawling.

Everyone knew Max's favorites were Angel and Fang. She wouldn't let Angel go down and help her own brother, no, even though the kid was supernaturally strong and could breathe underwater. Fang did as he pleased, and Max couldn't stop him.

Gazzy glanced to the side and spotted Angel, all teary-eyed and pale. He had done that to her.

The boy sniffed and wrapped his arms around his sister, who gripped him hard and pressed her face into his coat.

After a long moment, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a soaked Celeste. "I got her."

Angel stared at it for a while, then picked it up and tossed her over towards Max. "I don't care about her as long as you're safe, Bubba."

Gazzy is ten, Angel is eight.

Gazzy felt just as bad as Angel. Though…not in her sick way. More upset than sick.

Poor kid had a nasty sinus infection and was curled up all fever-y on Dr. Martinez's couch.

"Angie?" He asked hesitantly. Immediately Angel sat up and showed the happiest grin the Gasman had ever seen her wear. She held out her arms in a welcoming way.

The image was ruined by the dark circles beneath her eyes and pale face.

"I brought you something, Angel." He beamed at her; trying to look like the big, strong Bubba she always called him.

His little sister sniffled and straightened her back. What a trooper.

Gazzy flopped in the big chair by the couch and prepared to showcase his creations.

"Well, here I have some gummi bears that Iggy and I made have with little wings." He pulled out a little paper bag stapled shut and handed it to Angel.

She smiled and ripped it open, pulling out a light blue bear. Her eyes widened.

Then she popped it into Gazzy's mouth and flashed a cute grin.

Gazzy chewed and tasted the artificial blueberry flavor critically. "Why'd you do that, Angie?"

"It looked like your eyes." Angel's voice was hoarse but she looked truthful. Gazzy smiled at her and pulled out his next gift.

"AND I have an automatic…."

He pulled off the bag.

"WHOOPIE CUSHION!"

Angel burst into pained laughter, then tilted her head at him as if to say 'How is it automatic?'

"Well, I rigged it so when you push this button-" He did so, "It's make a very realistic fart noise I recorded. And its wireless, so you can hide the button under your blanket."

Angel looked delighted.

Gazzy jumped up and stuck it in his chair cushion. "There. Now was soon as I sit down, click the button."

Ange nodded as her brother dramatically planted his butt into the chair.

Spot on, a bhhhhhhhrrrrttt noise rang out, and Angel covered her nose instinctively.

"It works." The Gasman said triumphantly, shooting out of the chair and over to the loveseat.

Just then, Max entered. "How are you feeling, sweetie?" She asked Angel, making her way to the fart chair.

Angel batted her eyelashes innocently, and watched Max prepare to sit in the magic chair.

Gazzy leaned forward.

Angel positioned her thumb over the button.

And then, the precious moment when Maximum Ride set her firm little butt down on the chair. Just on time, humungous flatulence echoed through the walls.

Max's terrified expression made both the Gasman and Angel burst into uncontrollable laughter.

"Oh…GAZZY! YOUR DUMB ELECTRIC WHOOPIE CUSHION!"

"Oh yeah." Gazzy grinned at her, and Angel giggled.

Gazzy is twelve, Angel is ten.

"It's boring." Gazzy flopped down on the couch beside Angel, who stared intently at a chapter book.

"I'm trying to read, Gazzy." Angel said irritably, elbowing him in the side.

"Reading is boring! C'mon Angel! Nudge is out in the rain with Izzy, and Max and Fang are out on a date! We should do something too!"

Angel slowly put down her book.

"I don't want to do anything. It's too dark outside."

The Gasman wrinkled his nose. "Please, Angie?" Without waiting for an answer, he snatched up his sister's wrist and pulled her towards the door.

"Gazzy!" Angel protested, but she was ignored as he pushed her hard from behind into the cool rain.

"Now I'm all wet." The ten-year-old pouted, shaking her damp hair out.

"You're gonna get even wetter." Gazzy grinned and plopped down on his behind in on the concrete. He tugged Angel's hand and soon she was on the ground too. He flicked a handful of water at her playfully.

"HEY!" Angel cried, pushing her hands into a puddle and sending a sheet of clear rainwater towards her brother. She stuck her little pink tongue out and smirked. A single drop of clean water dropped onto her tongue. After tasting it for a moment, Angel licked her lips and lifted her face to the darkened sky, opening her mouth in a little 'o' and savoring the fresh taste of the rain.

Gazzy wrapped his long skinny arms around Angel, resting his cheek on the top of her head.

"Gazzy?"

"Mhm?"

"I love you."

"Love you too, Angel."

"One more thing."

"Yeah?"

"Will you always love me?"

"Of coarse I will."

"Good. I will too."