This is my first Maximum Ride fanfiction! I just discovered the series, so my writing may be a little shaky because I'm not totally familiar with the author's writing, but I'll give it my best shot.

Those of you who haven't read the Max Ride books, READ THEM. I'm not gonna do much background explaining. (Though I'm not sure why you would be reading this story if you hadn't read the books.)

Summary: Set during TFW. When Max receives some somewhat upsetting news regarding her own death from Dr. Martinez, she splits off from the flock and tries to live life normally. But of course they just can't let her be, can they?

This story will probably branch way out from what is mentioned above. I just had no idea what to write in the summary. Nobody does. That's why you hire people to write them for you.

Disclaimer: I don't own nothin.

NOTE: I've always disliked the huge involvement of Dr. Martinez and Ella in Max's life from the beginning. You can imagine how mad I was when they turned out to be FAMILY. In MY version, Dr. Martinez and Ella are in no way related to Max. While they have had interactions, they are not especially close.

Chapter One

I flew higher, spiraling up into the sky, reveling in the feeling of freedom. Enjoying the stretch of my wings. Finding sheer delight in the way the sun hit my feathers exactly the right way, setting off the differently colored hues. I lifted my face up, closing my eyes, relishing the peace –

An obnoxious static noise broke my reverie. A voice crackled into life. "Max, you need to fly lower," Brigid Dwyer's voice sounded in my ear impatiently. Like she hadn't told me enough times to make me want to drop her off a cliff so we could all see if she had wings. If she didn't, we would all enjoy the show, anyway. At any rate, I would. I glared at the walkie-talkie clipped on to my shoulder, having half a mind to just drop it in the ocean and have that be the end of it. The other half of my mind wanted to dive in to the sea, a possible meaning for "flying lower."

I grabbed the walkie-talkie. "Bite me." But I swooped lower anyway. After all, we weren't allowed on this small holiday unless we permitted the scientists to study us. At the time I had thought it a small price to pay. Yeah, well, that's like saying

John Abate's voice came through. "Okay, Max, just a bit more, then we'll bring you in for a break." He sounded surprised I had complied with orders. Obviously I would rather be stuck in an elevator with Gazzy for an hour than do any favor Brigid asked of me, but Angel's insubordination was really starting to get out of hand. I figured if she saw me following instructions then she would follow mine. At least, I hoped.

At any rate, I was glad that John was now dominating the walkie-talkie. "John? I'm really craving a Happy Meal. Actually, more like two. And could you get one with the dinosaur in it? Already got the plane."

Annoyingly, Brigid's voice came through again. She and a few others – presumably some of the flock; I would get them later – were laughing. "Yes, Max, I would be happy to get the dinosaur for you."

"Not for me, you idiot, for Gazzy," I snarled. Even up in the air away from all pairs of unwanted eyes, my face changed color. Maybe it was logical for Brigid to assume that I wanted it for me, but surely the rest of the flock would have realized I didn't want it.

The Mad Scientist acted like she didn't hear me. "Max, could you fly a bit to your left?" she asked, almost as if I were a dog performing a show. Come, Max. Heel, Max. Stop chewing that Brigid voodoo doll, Max.

Screw following directions. That was enough for me. We were in Antarctic waters; the sun was shining so brightly it was like an electrified tree at Christmas that Santa Claus had decorated while being drunk on cookies and milk. I veered left, making sure that I was outlined against the sun.

Very mature, Max, the Voice said disapprovingly. I smiled.

I was positive, knowing that the scientists' dorky binoculars were magnifying my wayward body as much as possible, that all of their eyes would be close to having been burnt out of their sockets after their enlightening experience. (Ha, enlightening, geddit?) Naturally, Iggy would get off easy, being blind and all. Sometimes I envy that kid. He misses out on all the grossest visuals. The Gasman barfing up all those chocolates in France? Not a pretty picture. Guess who was voted for cleanup duty? Well, I certainly wasn't doing it. Let's just say that the French room cleaners got a little better acquainted on Americans' good taste (literally) of art.

I decided that was enough for today, at least. Wheeling around, I shot towards the bow of the ship, where nearly everyone was clutching their eyes and staggering around. Ha. Geeks. "Happy Meal?" I prodded.

"Unnh… It's on its way…" John groaned. Too bad he had gotten caught in the crossfire. All's fair in love and war. (Okay, I was totally talking about war here. This has nothing to do with love. Whatever you might think.)

I grinned, making my way towards the back end of the ship. Angel followed me. "That wasn't very nice, you know," she said reproachfully, blue eyes piercing. Of course, she had known that I would do that, having been studying my mind like a book. All I can say is, it couldn't have been a too interesting read. Or a very long one.

"You know I would never hurt you, sweetie," I told her. And it was true. While everyone else on board had deserved it, I could never bring myself to hurt my little girl. But something seriously needed to be done about her sudden incapability of taking orders.

"Still," she pressed, "I really think you should give Brigid a chance." Give that snake an inch and she would stretch it into a mile of fawning-over-Fangness.

I leaned over the rail and breathed the salt air. It couldn't quite compare with the thinner air above, but that wasn't really an option to me right now, unless I needed an excuse to leave the cruel world and commit death by walkie-talkie. Brigid made me do all the high-flying, robotic antics. It was really getting on my nerves. Maybe she thought she was doing me a favor, granting me all the extra fly-time, but the truth was that I had just about reached the end of my rope and was ready to start tying the knot around my neck.

Iggy had followed us to the stern – see? I'm learning ship stuff! – of the boat. He gazed out on the mostly white landscape, relishing in his newfound ability to see the color white. Pretty snazzy, eh?

"How's it looking out there, Ig?"

He hissed in breath through his teeth. "Why can I only see white?"

I gave him a dose of my special leadership advice, which only I get to hand out because it's so full of crap. "Patience, young grasshopper. Grateful of what you have, you should be."

He shot me a death glare. Which I couldn't return.

"Seriously though, Ig, I bet the rest of the colors will follow. You're sure to get your vision back eventually. It would just be hard to get it all at one time."

"It's like coming back after an illness," Angel chimed in.

This was why our flock was together. We didn't need anyone else; we knew instinctively what the other was feeling and made them feel better right away. Especially me. I take other people's feelings very seriously.

I patted Iggy's shoulder. "Trust me, I'd rather be blind than look at Gazzy's ugly mug every day," I said loudly, as the rest of the flock joined us.

"Too bad he's much better looking than I am," Gazzy said in a perfect imitation of my voice.

Iggy smiled, knowing somehow as he always did when Gazzy was exercising his unusual talent. "I feel for you there."

Angel was rigid suddenly, and I tensed. Despite our playful bantering, I was never fully relaxed.

But her face brightened after only a few seconds. "Food's here!" she announced. Don't ask me how they got McDonald's to Antarctica. All I knew was that when we asked for something, we got it.

"Thank God!" Nudge groaned. "I'm starving!"

"You guys go on ahead," I said. "Don't even think about eating my food, or I'll kick your butts all the way back to the U.S."

Iggy, Gazzy, Nudge, and Angel trooped below decks for some good family bonding fun of artery-clogging. Yum yum. Fang stayed. I felt his dark eyes on me.

I leaned against the rail again, not really wanting to talk. I totally didn't understand what was going on with me and Fang. I wished it could just go back to the way it was before, when I didn't worry about how I looked in the morning or how bad my breath smelled after eating some of those extra-garlicky fries.

"You okay?"

Without looking at him, I sighed, noisily blowing hair out of my face. "I'm just so tired, you know? I mean, I know we're down here to save the world, but lately it's feeling more and more like they just want us down here for their own personal seventh-grade science project."

"Is that so bad?" he countered.

Of course, I had forgotten his blog. Next would be a fan club. With confetti. And Halloween costumes of us. Why not just make a freaking sign saying We Love Mother Max and Her Hippie Bird Freaks?

I made the mistake of looking up at his face. Expressionless as always, but of course thinking harder than anyone I knew. I shook my head. "Of course it is! We don't know if they're double agents just passing information on to the bad guys!"

Fang looked steadily at me. "It's okay to have a little help sometimes," he said, and suddenly I wondered if we were even talking about the scientists anymore.

I deliberately turned back to the previous conversation. "Not while we're mutant freaks. We can't trust anyone." I hated to break it to the flock, but the three people I trusted absolutely and completely were me, myself, and I.

He took a step toward me, hesitated. "Max…"

I cut him off. "Well, I'm starving!" I said briskly. "Going to go get something to eat!" It seemed like we were always like this. Him taking one step forward, me backing away three paces. That was the safest way to do it.

I left him standing at the rail, watching me run away.