a/n: This fic is weird. It was born right after completing the fifth book. I then had went on Utube, onto Daveday's spoof of Miley Cyrus's "See You Again." I then listened to the original song, to which I clicked on another one of her songs: "The Climb." I listened to it a couple times, and thought: this song is *perfect* for Maximum Ride. So just like that, I thought of this fic, and began to write. But then, when I had gotten around to the part when the song comes in, and I looked at the lyrics, I knew it wasn't right for this fic. So I thought of songs I knew. And then, out of the blue, I thought of this stupid, unpopular country-rock song I used to listened to three years ago. It was a perfect fit.
Anyways, first MR fic, and a bit AU, because the flock never stopped flying from the first book to the second book, or at least I think they didn't. But whatever.
And erm...can I just say that Fang is like a young Mr. Darcy? x3
Oh! Before I forget: the song used it Deb Talen's "Comfort"
Sometimes, like this night, when she can't even recognize her hands in the black, she thinks, allows her thoughts to fully submerge into all the things she forbids herself to acknowledge during the day.
Tonight is particularly bad, and she can't comprehend why. They've found some schmuck's abandoned cabin in the woods, complete with tattered sofas and some broken radio that's screeching out some mainstream crap. Really, tonight's sleeping arrangement is better than most. But still, she feels horrible.
She could really go for a chocolate chip cookie right about now.
But she is alone, her only comfort being the sighs of her family all around her.
You killed your own brother!
She sniffs, rubbing her nose, and feels so incredibly small because of the wetness on her cheeks. Ari was never meant to be her enemy. No, he was just a seven-year-old who had been stuffed in a killer's skin. And now she feels like she's murdered a child.
Max! Please! This was all a test!
What the hell did that mean? She had at first dismissed it as some mumbo-jumbo crap that that crazy Jeb (you know, the guy who simply couldn't decide if he was a good guy or a bad guy) had spewed at her, but now it's like: Hey, Max. I'm Your Destiny. Stop Fucking Around And Save The World Already.
Yeah. I just asked her to buy it for me. You know, with my mind.
And is it just her sleep-deprived brain, or was Angel just getting pretty freaking scary lately?
He looks really bad. He should see a doctor.
And Fang! What was with her kissing Fang? They were like, siblings. You can't kiss your brother. It's illegal.
It's a woman, with frizzy red hair.
And those papers they found at the Institute; they need deciphering. But they had no place where they could stay to sit down and ponder over them, not to mention any resources…
Not weird, Max. Divine.
It takes one of those split-second realizations for her to comprehend who she is: a fourteen-year-old mutant freak, lacking of parents and a home, a mother to five kids and now a dog, with possible incest-y intentions toward her like, brother, possible schizophrenic based on the Voice in her head, that is destined to save the world. It's like plunging herself into an ocean of awareness: deeper and deeper and deeper until she can feel the sheer pressure of it all between her ears.
But that is nothing compared with the knowledge that she is completely alone. Shuddering, she encircles her knees with her embrace, pulling herself into a small ball and rocks herself back and forth, to the tune of her sobs.
When her eyes are too drained for tears, and her throat is dry, she can hear, through the static, a song, playing on the radio:
"When everyone has gone to sleep, and you are wide awake.
There's no one left to tell your troubles to."
Despite the bitterness and the blood on her lips, she smiles. For this moment, she can pretend that whoever wrote this song has done it just for her. The soft harmony of the guitar, the croon of the singer: they serenade to her.
"Just an hour ago, you listened to their voices,
lilting like a river over underground."
That night they had scavenged some grub from a local grocery store. Nudge had complained about the lack of warm food, and in the same breathe pleaded with Max to allow her to get her ears pierced. Iggy had made fun of her, and she's shrieked, and the Gasman did what he did best (they had been eating canned beans, after all). Angel had tried to feed her new dog some of the beans as well, despite Max's desperate persuasion not to, and Fang had just smirked.
The images are gone now, just echoes swimming around in her mind. If she tries really hard, she can almost hear the sound of their laughter.
"And the light from downstairs came up soft like daybreak,
dimly as the heartache of a lonely child."
She thinks of the Insitute, the mystery of the flocks parents. Nudge had so eager to find her mother, her real mother, not some teenager without a maternal bone in her avian-mutated body. They all want to find their parents, because they hate not knowing. She hates that she knows that she isn't enough for them. This little life she's cronstructed will never be enough for them.
She is once again feeling the cool slide of tears, just as the chorus begins.
"If you can't remember a better time,
you can have mine, little one."
She cries, feeling every punch she has taken all at once. She really is just a child, isn't she?
"In days to come when your heart feels undone:
may you always find an open hand
and take comfort wherever you can.
You can, you can."
You can, Max, says the Voice, inside her head. You just have to believe in what you can do.
"And oh, it's a strange place.
And oh, everyone with a different face."
It's true, because in the end: when the the apocolypse turns up on her doorstep, there's only going to be one person she trusts: herself.
"But just like you thought when you stopped her to linger:
we're only as separate as your little fingers.
So cry, why not? We all do.
Then turn to one you love,
and smile a smile that lights up all the room."
How many nights had Fang put his warm hand on hers and told her that he had her back? How many smiles, how many glances, how many jokes? Not enough to comfort her now.
"And follow you dreams, in through every out-door;
it seems that's what we're here for."
The memories flicker back to the Ouija board. Vividly, she experiences those uncomfortable seconds over and over and over again. It's driving her insane, and she can feel something breaking.
"And when you can't remember a better time
you can have mine, little one.
In days to come when your heart feels undone
may you always find an open hand
and take comfort, there is comfort.
Take comfort wherever you can, you can, you can."
Gradually the tune comes to the end, and all she knows is four words:
Save the world, Max.
Traumitizing words, she knows. But she won't allow it to scare her off. Instead, she thinks. Because sometimes, like this night, she can recognize herself in the black. And it's those nights when she knows she can do anything—
Even save the world.