Disclaimer: We do not own Maximum Ride. Or its characters. Or plot. Because, clearly, we are twisting said plot and characters way more than James Patterson would've liked. We may even be traumatising them a bit.

Sorry.

This is soooo OOC.

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Let's have a flashback. Well, this whole dialogue of me telling you about my experience with Fang being…randomly and extremely rude (what else is new?) is a flashback, actually, but let's take a moment to flashback on a particular moment.

Did that last sentence give anyone else a headache?

My hands slid across the paper's surface like two…sliding things. My eyes scanned over the words I had just written, anger and sadness pulsing through my veins, an amalgam of emotions swimming through my heart. Did I just use the word amalgam? Yes. Yes, I did. Do I know what it means? No, no I don't.

Off of the vocab rant and back to the paper. A paper of goodbyes. That I had just written. Goodbyes. Written by me. Yes. Goodbyes.

On it was my 'resignation' to the Flock. A detailed list of reasons why I'd left, what I'd miss, and some simple instructions on how to not die. I walked into the bathroom and locked the door, taking off my clothes and tying up my hair so I could take a shower. Then, standing in the bathroom blankly, with only a towel wrapped around me, I stared at the note.

The note?

This I promptly tossed in the toilet and then slammed my head against the wall above the water tank, while what I was feverishly hoping was The Voice (but was actually my schizophrenia acting up) was screaming, "What the hell, Max? What was that? WHAT WAS THAT? Complain? Leave the Flock? Just because Fag, er, Fang said something you already knew and refused to be bothered by? HELL TO THE NO!" The voices in my head had a bad habit of acting up and getting rowdy, so I said to it in what I hoped was a soothing voice of reason, "You knew I'd never leave the flock. I just saw that idea on that psychology show I watched that one time. I would never leave my friends behind!" My mental voice grumbled as it shuffled back to the very back of my mind, its job done, squeezing in between Saving The World and Fashion Sense.

***

I stepped into the tiled shower/tub combo, draped my towel over the top, and flipped on the hot water in one fluid motion. How was this motion so fluid? Because I wasn't thinking about being graceful. Of course, when trying to be graceful, I moved like a three legged giraffe. But now I wasn't thinking about it. No, my mind was elsewhere. My mind was with my foot. Up Fang's.... Well, you get the {shapely} picture. The hot water flowed down the valley in my back, letting my muscles try to unwind.

This wasn't happening, as my muscles are in a constant state of tensosity. Constant.

As the water caressed me in an attempt to loosen me up, I thought about Fang. This didn't help with whole 'unwinding' thing, but I couldn't help it.

My mind was, as usual, stuck on him.

What's wrong with him? I pondered, my thoughts futile. Would I ever understand him? Probably not. Was this for the better?

Probably so. I groaned and covered my face with my hands. This wasn't the smartest thing I'd ever done for a few reasons. One, one needs vision to shower. Two, this covered my eyes with shampoo. And, as any moron knows, shampoo + eyes = pain x 10. So I did what any right minded, frustrated, alone, in love, and shampoo eye-d girl would do.

I threw my head back and screamed.

***

If I could just take a moment of your time, I'd like to set a few facts straight. We all know I'm neither the smartest nor chocolatey-est cookie in the jar. I am, though, in no way an idiot. But I still do a lot of dumb things. Example, eyes plus shampoo. Needless to say, I've done worse. Example?

Scream.

Because, to the Flock, Max doesn't scream unless she's dying. Or some one else is dying. Or not dying. Although, instead of screaming for that last one, I might just have to kiss some one's busted lip, but why dredge up painful memories? "Where could that kooky, lovable bird kid be going with this obnoxious and bloody random rant?" you ask?

I'm going to the scene you'll find below those three asterisks down there.

***

"Max, what's wrong?!" The door flew open with a resounding "BANG!" as the doorknob bounced off the plaster, inevitably leaving a dent I'd have to fix later. Enough about the fricking wall though, who was that voice? It was deep, strong, a little bit husky and rough. It was a guy's voice, duh.

Guy?

FANG!?

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