A/N: Hey guys. Thanks to everyone who clicks on this story. I usually don't read these kind of fanfics (I like reading a lot of AU and no wings fanfics) but one day I was just like "I wants to write one!" In that weird accent. Um, so I did. Yeah so thanks and please R&R. Or don't. Your choice. But an R&R would be double-stuffed Oreos cool. So really cool.

-M

Disclaimer: I don't own Maximum Ride. Kudos to you, Mr. Patterson.

P.S. This story happens after Fang. Pretend Angel and Nevermore doesn't happen and that in Fang's letter to Max, he says meet in 10 years not 20 years.

Max's POV

He's gone.

That hit me hard. It felt like a train ran over me, leaving me broken and breathless. Leaving me dead.

10 years later

Well guess what? I'm still alive. Whoop dee doo. I'm twenty four years old now, for those of you who aren't the brightest in math. The past ten years have probably been the most useless, boring, and wasted years of my life.

In the beginning, there were a lot of tears. I had locked myself in my room at my mom's house and sobbed for hours to no end, curling up into a ball on my bed. Everyone had tried to coax me out but I ignored them each time. Dylan finally had to kick the door down. He'd charged in with my mom, who had a tray of chocolate chip cookies in hand.

"Oh, sweetie," she had whispered, placing the tray down and squeezing me tight.

I saw her making a shooing motion at Dylan. He'd gone away after eyeing me with concern. Dr. Martinez had held me until my tears ran out and the uncontrollable weeping dwindled down to the occasional sob. She told me stories, and sung me songs, never once even uttering his name. I was thankful for that. We spent the rest of the night like that, as I shoved cookies down my throat. For the week after, I tried my best to get back to normal. Just smiling weakly at the flock and avoiding their questioning glances.

But that didn't really help, it only pushed away the pain. It buried it deep into the back of my mind. My heart still remembered him though, all the time. So that's when I decided to just let everything go. I began to act like a zombie. Lifeless. I pushed away anyone and everything. After a while of that behaviour, they finally let me be. Even Dylan gave up on me. And they moved on too. Iggy began to become more like a leader. Dylan and Angel helped. There weren't anymore flyboy attacks or whitecoats. It was like they just forgot about us. We just disappeared from their radar. I'm extremely grateful for that.

Dr. Martinez and Ella continued with their lives. Everyone did. Except for me. I wish I could say they're all safe and living their happily ever afters, but I wouldn't know. A year of my zombie mode and I figured that I was just a nuisance. The Flock was really cautious around me, careful to never mention you-know-who, like his name would set me off like a bomb (which it most likely would). So I left. I packed up, said goodbye, and flew away. They had begged me to stay, saying that they still needed me, but I knew in my heart that they really didn't. I had made up my mind. I told them I needed time to think and that I'd come back when I was done. With that I cut off all contact with them. I haven't talked to any of them since.

I just drifted from place to place. During that time I began to think a lot about him again. Shock, agony, depression, and a furious, red-hot anger. But finally, I just fell into a bleak sadness. The world hasn't ended yet. No apocalypse, no tsunami, no giant meatball falling out of the sky. Nothing. Oh well. I wasn't planning on continuing to save the world anyways.

Today is a really important day. Right now, I'm flying towards the top of the cliff where we first met the hawks. Yes, I'm going there to meet him. And I sure hope he's going there to meet me.

The sun is just peeking up from the horizon and it's rays stretch across the sky brilliantly. It's been awhile since I've seen a sunrise and I've forgotten how beautiful they are. My wings slice through the chilly morning air and it combs through my hair delightfully, but all I can think about is him.

Does he miss me as much as I've missed him? Did he hurt inside every second of every day since he left me? Will he be there? I finally see the cliff that he'd said he'll meet me at, all those years ago. Suddenly, a nervous jolt courses through me. What will he think after all these years? I push away the anxiousness and fly even faster towards the ledge. I skid to a stop. Looking around, it's basically the same way we'd left it all those years ago. Bare and stone. Nothing and no one, else.

Still, I take a shaking breath and call out his name.

"Fang?"

Silence. He's not here.

A wave of dizziness blurs my vision and I drop to the floor. Breathe Max. He could still be on his way. Yeah, he's probably flying here right now. I hold onto that thought and crawl over to the ledge of the cave. I'll just have to wait.

The early morning sky intensified to a bright blue as time passed. A group of hawks dipped and soared. I smiled, remembering the time when the Flock and I learned to fly with them. Morning became afternoon, afternoon became evening. I sat, then paced, sat, and paced some more. By midnight I finally collapsed back onto the ground, choking on my sobs and finally breaking into tears. I put on the full show, with waterworks, wailing, fist punching, and all. He wasn't planning on coming back for me. All of his words and promises were lies.

I remember his warm eyes and dark hair. His occasional smirks and brilliant smiles. The feeling of accomplishment when I made him laugh. Laugh. He had the nicest laugh. And the few words he spoke were always so important to me. But they were all lies.

I waited until the morning, and the next, then the next. I waited for him for hours, days, a whole freaking week.

But he never came.