So… I've finished Fang. Let me just say… wow, that was epic. And now, I get to update No Easy Way, just as I promised I would. The much anticipated 2nd chapter. Okay, maybe "much anticipated" wasn't right, but you get the point.

Disclaimer for the rest… 'cause I can't remember if I did one before… I do not own Maximum Ride, or the characters mentioned in Maximum Ride. I do however own the mysterious young male from chapter one claiming to be Max and Fang's son. Ohh.

The son's POV (I haven't mentioned his name yet…)

"Max?" I call out, lightly tapping her cheeks. "Max!" My palm comes down more forcefully, leaving a red mark within seconds. Her hand comes back to slap me harder even before she pries her eyes open. Rubbing the site impacted, I mildly comment,

"You know your son for two minutes, and already you abuse him."

She blinks, "Son? You really are my son?"

"I look like you, don't I?" I snap, a little harder than intended.

"You sound like me, I'll give you that." She stands, "But I can't possibly have a son with Fang. I haven't seen him in years."

"Nothing is impossible; you of all people should know that."

"Have you ever tried to slam a revolving door?"

"Well… no."

"It's impossible." She clarifies. Taking a long breath, I continue on,

"Aside from that, virtually nothing is impossible. I was created in a lab. Some insane scientists thought it would be fun to make a child by combining both male and female genetics."

"So, what you're saying is that I have a son… who was created by science… just for fun?"

"Precisely. Performing tests on a winged child born from a test tube. What fun." For a few moments, there is silence. Finally, Max gestures to the couch and says,

"Well, let's hear it."

"Hear what?"

"Your story."

"I don't have a story." I say honestly.

"Everyone has a story. Even you."

"Where do I begin?" I ask, almost to myself.

"Start with your name. Move on from there." I grin widely. She surely acts like a mother of mine.

I proceed to tell her my "story". I say my name aloud, answering the un-asked question of why I chose it. I nod when Max notifies me that Ash is the shortened version of Ashley. I counteract her judgment by clarifying what Ash means to me.

To me, Ash symbolized destruction. Pain, heat, an unstoppable force of nature. Having the name Ash labels me as someone to fear. Someone terrifying when my anger erupts; no one sees the disaster heading their way until it's too late.

She gives me a skeptical look, and I feel the need to explain myself even farther. I recall the tale from 5 years back. My first attempt to escape from the chains and the steel cage that held me captive for so long. The memory went something like this:

When I was 10, a man was stupid enough to leave the cage door open with his back turned. I had taken his keys and beat him with my bare hands. Halfway up the staircase, voices startled me. I had been caught. I heard the man who grabbed me mumble under his breath. Something that sounded like "Ash". I took pride in that word.

The next year, I was even more desperate to get out. I compiled anything within reach and somehow managed to make a weapon dangerous enough that it just might have gotten me out. I threatened the next man I saw. He backed away, and then showed me the small lighter that he held at his side. I did nothing. The burns I received remind me of charring Ash. Again, I took pride in the word.

At 12, I used my developing skills to build something even greater. A bomb, of all things. I ignited it with much difficulty, and managed to take out one worker. The smell of charred flesh and ash was prominent. But I was still trapped. I could hear more people thudding down the stairs. I had seconds to take pride in my work, before I was punished again.

As a 4th attempt at freedom, I managed to bend the steel bars far enough apart to squeeze through. Armed with another makeshift bomb, I slowly stepped forward; only for the bomb to backfire randomly. I was not harmed, but the smell of ash reached my nose. I was fearful. I was proud of my work.

Finally, I made the foolproof protocol of a bomb that would help me escape. A new face walked in, his head down, deep in thought. I took one of the many weapons I had stashed and prepare to throw it. The new face looked up and smiled. He smiled! He announced that he is not to be feared. That he meant no harm. His plan was to help me escape.

"My name, son, is Jeb Batchelder. I have reason to believe you were created from the genetics of my daughter." I was speechless. He'd hit below the belt. Slowly, Jeb undid the locks on my cage and wrists. I stayed on-guard, but couldn't help but believe this man was here to help. We fled outside without a problem. Jeb then took my shoulders and said harshly,

"Blow the place, son. It sickens me."

"Ash, not son," I responded in a whisper.

"What?"

"My name is Ash, not son," I proclaimed, loud enough for the elder to hear.

"Ash, blow the place. Then, we find your parents."

I pause myself as the memory fades and take a much needed breath. I glance and see Max's fist pressed to her mouth, her eyes looking intently into mine. Ever so slightly, she pleads me to go on.

My tale takes a twist now. I talk about our hideaway in the forest not far from the very apartment where we sit. I tell how Jeb teaches me slowly to fly; I note the tears in her eyes when I recall my plummet from the rooftop. Then, I talk of Jeb's sudden death. Tears stream from her eyes, but she does not silence me. She asks me gently to move on.

Finally, I talk of the trip over here. The trouble finding the photograph of her and my father, when they were so happy and young. I speak until my voice falters; until I can say not another word.

For several minutes, we sit in silence. I take in my mother's living space. A medium sized living room, a kitchen, 3 doors placed down a slightly narrow hallway, and a balcony overlooking the eastern side of the state. The balcony is un-furnished; the perfect place to launch off of and spread my wings. God, how I love the feeling of flying.

I just begin to day dream when Max says aloud, "It was a good idea, coming today."

"Yeah?" I ask, giving her my undivided attention.

"Did Jeb tell you where I was? Where Fang was-is?"

I recall and nod. A smile creeps across her face, "Well, today we both see your father for the first time in over 15 years." She stands and dusts herself off, "Today is the day. Hope you're ready for a long, hard fly to Lake Mead, 'cause your coming either way." With that said, I suppress a chuckle. Today was the perfect day.

Hey again! So, I really like this chapter. I didn't want to use dialogue for all of that background, so I like the alternative. Next, I'll try to update New Lovers, then A Better Childhood, Intense Nightmares, He never said it back, and this again. Wow, I have a lot to do. I'll add it to my ever growing list for tomorrow. As for tonight, I'm going to bed! Enjoy! Review!

With love and the antonym of joy,

~Faxisthegreatest123~