Ask and you will receive, huh? This is a thank you for all the good reviews :) Its not that long, but its full of emotion ;0 But here's the catch: One I reach 20 REVIEWS for this chapter, the next will come. I know a lot more of you read this, so that shouldn't be a problem, right? Right.

Also: I don't know why, but Fang seems like a believer to me. Not like, part of a specific religion, but just a belief in something bigger than him.

One F-bomb in here, so beware.

Enjoy :)

She still wasn't looking at me. I was suddenly hit by the weight of all of this. She didn't trust me anymore. It felt as if for the last 2 years I hadn't really been serious about leaving. It was like...Even though I had written that letter, even though it had taken me weeks to build up the courage to leave, I had always thought in the back of my mind that it wasn't permanent. But to Max -and to the others- it was. I could see I'd thrown a wrench in the delicate machine that was the "post-Fang flock", and how it had unsettled them all. And now, being so close to the little family that had been (still was) my whole world, I was finding it hard to remember why I had left at all.

I looked up. During my little moment of reverie, the mood in our little clearing had darkened without my noticing. Max was still in the same spot she had been, but her face had clouded over.

"You shouldn't have come back." she whispered.

She was flexing her fingers, closing them into tight fists and then relaxing. Her head was down, directed at a small patch of wild flowers by her feet. She looked scared and exhausted and unsure. All the emotions she had pushed to the side while I was away -all the weak emotions, as she had called them- seemed to be flooding back to her all at once, and she couldn't take it. It was hurting her, pushing her down and away from herself. And from me.

While one part of myself took time to interpret all of these signs, another completely different part was screaming at me to help her. She needed me. That part of me was clawing and biting, fighting its way to the surface. It was part worry and part possessiveness, and it made standing here after 2 fucking years and not touching her unbearable. This wasn't right. It was supposed to be me and her forever, no matter what. We were meant to be. We were soul mates. We had both relied on the knowledge that we needed each other to stay strong. She needed me, I needed her. Simple. She was supposed to trust me. But I don't really deserve it anymore, do I?

All at once, something came to me that should have come a long time ago. To me, I was leaving for the good of the flock, for the good of the world. I had assumed that through my letter she would understand that, that she would come to accept the fact that what I did was for all of us. But the letter also said something else, something that I hadn't meant it to. It said that I had broken my end of our unspoken deal. It said that I didn't need her anymore.

Which, of course, was a lie. Of course I needed her. Even when I was away (both times) she was still the thing that made me get up every morning. She was still the reason I did my part to stop Itex-the earth would just be a planet if Max wasn't sharing it with me, however far apart we were. She made up that fine line in my mind between "the Earth" and "the World". Does that make sense? I don't know. I don't really care, either. It works in my head, so it works for me.

I could see her gathering the pieces now. Picking up all the little, tiny shards of Max that littered the forest floor and forcing them back inside. Not in the right order, or pattern, just together. Thrown into one big pile that she could push into a dark corner of her heart and forget about for the moment.

She straightened her back, ran a hand through her hair and brushed past me, jogging back to the camp. I stayed, turning to face the wide trunk of an old oak tree beside me, and leaned my forehead against the bark. It was uncomfortable, but it made me feel somehow connected , as if this ancient being was letting me be a part of something exponentially bigger than me.

And I prayed. It reminded me of New York, when we had gone to that cathedral to rest. Max had said to blend in, so we had all sat and prayed. I hadn't really. I just sat there and listened to the other people in the towering room, trying to say if we were safe or not. But now I did. I prayed to the Earth and to the World and to anyone else who would listen to me. I prayed that things would get better. I prayed that Max would be Okay. I prayed that I would figure this mess out.