On the morning of the fourth day I woke up feeling very lackluster. Very lackluster and very tired. I stayed up till 3 the night before waiting for Jeb to get back. But he never did. Nevertheless, I had school to attend. Although, all things considered, school seemed very unimportant at the moment. Maybe I could just stay home and pretend to be sick. I chuckled a little to myself as I pulled on my clothes. I was a teenager who didn't want to go to school – ha! – how much more typically could I get?

I brushed my teeth, and for a moment I considered doing something different with my hair. I sighed and ended up just brushing it like I usually did. I wasn't feeling the whole "make an effort" thing today. Pulling on some boots, I opened my bedroom door. A strong smell hit me then. Was that . . . coffee?

"Jeb?" I called out, rushing down the hall.

I reached the kitchen just as he was saying, "yes?"

I smiled tentatively, "how'd it go?"

He turned around with a steaming cup of coffee in hand, bearing 2 things; a wide smile and a black eye. "We got him out."

My jaw dropped, "what happened to you?"

"Oh, this?" he asked, pointing as if it was irrelevant, "he didn't believe that we were actually there to get him out at firs-."

"So he punched you in the face?"

"Actually he elbowed me," Jeb shook his head at the look on my face, "Listen, that's not the point. Things got a little dicey, and we had to sedate him, but it's alright now."

"Where is he?"

"He's in the upstairs room right now sleeping it off."

"What took so long anyways?" I wondered aloud.

Jeb looked a little sheepish then, "on the way to get some supplies from a friend of mine in Arizona, I realized that I was probably going to need a lot more sedative and also . . . a restraining table. I had to wait for the shipment to come in."

"Well geez," I huffed, "hopefully he doesn't try to strangle us in our sleep. Use the table if you have too. Don't let him beat you up again."

Jeb shook his head exasperated, "He's strapped to it right now and, I don't plan to, Max."

"By the way, when do I get to meet him?"

This earned me the lowered-glasses-stern-look, "you will not go anywhere near him until I give the go ahead. Do you understand?"

"What about our deal?" I hounded him.

"As I recall, you promised not to put yourself in unnecessary danger."

Fair enough.

"Okay," I relented, looking at his black eye, "I'll wait."

He had been at our house for about 3 weeks and things were going swell.

In other words, they were going terribly.

He had already tried to escape twice. Once at night while I was asleep and once while I was at school. He probably would have kept trying had Jeb not made a deal that he'd stop putting him on the restraining table if the kid stopped trying to run away. Luckily, upon announcing that he was "adopting" Jeb's work let him work from so that he could home school his new "son". It was also lucky that Jeb had a sedater gun thingy and that the neighbors were apparently oblivious.

Overall this whole anti-brainwashing thing was kind of a mess. Just like a big, fat, hot mess. Jeb wasn't making any headway; the kid just wouldn't want to talk to him. It was stressing him out, which was stressing me out. Finally I just had to make a case to him.

"Jeb, you gotta let me try," I begged one day after school, "I think he'll be more willing to talk after he actually sees my wings for himself."

Exhausted and at his whit's end, he sighed, "alright Max. I'll be watching with the security camera if you need me. Keep your distance, and whatever you do, don't provoke him."

Yes, finally!

"Wait in you room until I'm done hooking him up."

"I thought you were done with the handcuffs?" I asked.

"Not when you're in there," he replied.

After a few minutes of waiting in my room I heard Jeb call my name.

Show time.

Finally I would get to meet him. I hadn't even gotten to see him yet. Jeb was at the top of the stairs outside the closed "interrogation"/bedroom.

"I'll be right there in the living room. If he gives you any trouble, if som-."

"Jeb," I put a hand on his shoulder, "if anything happens I also happen to possess mutant strength."

"Alright," he resigned, "30 minutes." He tapped his watch.

I don't know what I expected when I open the door, overturned furniture and shredded paper and pillow feathers everywhere maybe. But it was clean, his bed was even made. The room looked like it always did, except for the, you know, hospital restrainer gurney in the corner and interrogating table in the middle of the room. No biggie.

How had Jeb even managed to get an interrogation table up here? For that matter, where'd he get the handcuffs?

Anyways, the fellow bird kid was nothing like I expected either. I heard ultimate soldier and pictured a big, brutish guy with a wide chiseled jaw and a permanent buzz cut. This guy was tall – I could tell even when he was sitting down – but that's where the similarities ended. His persona was dark. Dark clothes, dark eyes, dark hair. He was lean and quiet and as far as I could tell, completely uninterested in anything I had to offer. He didn't even look up as I approached. He simply sat there watch the dust motes drift about in the sun filtering in the window.

I pulled out the chair across from him and sat. Still nothing. I watched him, watching the dust mites. I felt worse for him by the second. Despite his olive skin tone I could clearly make out scars from the School, no doubt. If that didn't elicit sympathy from me, hearing him cry out at night sure did. I knew the nightmares well enough.

"So," I started gently, "what's your name? Mine is Ma-."

Dear God.

I nearly jumped out of my skin. His head snapped to mine in a split second and he fixed me with the most caustic glare I've ever seen. He looked like he had just murdered your whole family, including your puppy, and he had enjoyed every second. He could probably send the baddest bada$$ crying home to mommy. If I'd had a cup of water he probably could have turned it to ice.

Okayyy. So maybe talking was a bad idea.

I stood up. Time to bring out the wings.

But before I could even unzip my jacket, he pulled his hands back quickly and shoved the table as hard as he could. I don't actually know if that's as hard as he could push it, but it felt pretty hard as the metal slammed into me. It effectively forced the air out of my lungs with a whoosh! The force of it doubled me over so that I also banged my head into the corner of the table. Fortunately my burning lungs cancelled out the tingling in my forehead.

Boy was he a charmer.

Jeb burst into the room seconds later. I felt the vibrations in my side as he rushed toward me. After my reenactment of a fish on dry land, he helped me stand. I stumbled gracefully, blood trickling down my forehead now.

I gave my "fellow" mutant my meanest death glare and snarl combo, the one I was known for. I might as well have been a kitten, he didn't even flinch.

"Tell me," I wheezed out through aching lungs, "were you this big of a jerk before the School got to you?"

"Max . . ." Jeb said warily, "do you still want to show him?"

"Aww, heck to the no!" I burst out. "He ain't seein' squat till he learns some manners!"

And with that I stomped out of the room leaving some blood and a little bit of my dignity behind.