~Fang POV~

"You look like crap," Iggy said bluntly.

"How would you know?" I bit back. His gentle fingers swept the panes of my face, slowly gliding over the sunken hollows beneath my eyes. I froze. Iggy was the only one that I didn't mind seeing often- he couldn't see me, he had no reason to gasp like the girls did when we met up. But now, now Iggy could see me. Under his fingers, I was laid bare. I didn't like it.

"Nudge said so. You're in a bad way, man. You been sleeping at all?"

"No." My voice came out hoarse. It always was- I was hoarse and rough and I looked awful most of the time. Lack of sleep wasn't helping matters. I was falling apart without her. Falling into pieces like a shattered glass vase. The others were doing okay, I knew they were- even in my bad state I tried to ensure that they were getting on alright. The rest of the Flock didn't feel her loss like I did- sure, Max was their mother in her own unique way… but she had been something more to me. And, not only that, but it hadn't been anyone else's fault that Max had left. That weight was on my shoulders. Mine and mine alone.

Iggy sighed and his sightless eyes remained on mine. Cloudy and blind meeting dull and lifeless. He laid a heavy hand on my shoulder. The simple touch felt like lead as his fingers gripped and curled around my shoulder.

"It's been months, Fang. How many times have you analysed that piece of paper, huh?" He was referring to the letter Max had left us all. I had pinned it to my wall in a silver frame without any glass. That way I could actually trace my fingers over her words and see it without any barriers.

"Every day." I admitted.

I knew every curve of every letter, I could recite it easily and remember every crease on the vanilla sheet. At first, I had been convinced that Max would leave some kind of clue as to where she was going- and so I had studied her letter like a professor. Deep down I knew that there was no deeper indication in the note, Max had made a clean break, and anyway- as the Flock had reasoned- Max never stayed anywhere for any substantial amount of time. The letter was just another reminder that kept me up at night. She was gone, but I still couldn't move on.

"Fang, we all miss her okay," Iggy began. His frustration was seeping through his tone and anyone could tell that he was at the end of his tether where I was concerned. I couldn't blame him really. "We all miss her, we really do. And I know she was closer to you than to anyone else: it was always Max, Fang and the Flock. Even if not officially, that's how it was. You were her best friend- closer even. But we all miss her- she was practically Angel and Gazzy's mother for crying out loud! And yet they're moving on. We will never ever forget her but this is the way she wanted it. She's gone and she's not coming back."

"Stop talking about her as if she's dead!" I snapped harshly. "Max is not dead!"

Pain hit me in a fresh burst then- how did I know she wasn't dead? Surely I would know, I would feel something, right? I would- I would feel something. I would have to. Max couldn't be dead. No- no, Max was strong. My Max was still alive. I knew it. Max was alive- it was the truth, it wasn't just another desperate cling to hope. Max was alive, I believed it and I knew it was true. Iggy was wrong- everyone was wrong.

"Fang!" Iggy wasn't patient and gentle anymore. He was just annoyed and frustrated. Snapping at me, not really caring about being considerate and caring like Nudge and Angel told him to be.

"You love her, okay!" he shouted at me. "I get it. But. You. Have. To. Move. On."

I spoke quietly. That stupid echo of my voice that sounded so frayed at the edges. "I hear her wings, Iggy. At night. She's not gone. I hear her wings."

Iggy shoved his hands into his hair and then flung them to his sides giving some kind of groan mixed with a growl. He walked out of the room exasperatedly to get a drink in the kitchen. I could hear him sigh and mutter under his breath as he turned on the tap. They were all getting sick of me, and I couldn't care less. They could all abandon hope and move on, but that wasn't me. Max was still out there somewhere, and I was going to find her. I was searching the internet, trying to trace credit cards under possible aliases, and hacking into police files. I never got anywhere, but I never gave up. Nudge wouldn't help me- she said it wasn't fair to Max. The stupid girl actually believed that Max wanted this- that she wanted to be separated from us. I was the only one that knew how Max thought, none of the others understood. No amount of begging on my behalf worked, I was left completely alone in my mission to find Max and I wasn't doing very well. I was falling to pieces.

Breathing deep, I tried to calm myself down and work up the physical and mental strength to follow Iggy. It was a regular occurrence that I would have to go running after at least one member of the Flock- I always managed to worry them or annoy them so much that they ended up storming out on me. As I neared the door, I realised that he was talking to someone in the kitchen. Kate. Great, no doubt they were talking about me. My brother and the person my DNA said was my sister.

"Has he been sleeping any better since I was here last?" Iggy asked in that quiet, low timbre. The concerned voice, the one that showed he was worrying. That stupid voice that made me so angry that I wanted to hit something- he was worrying about me, and that meant I was failing Max. I was supposed to be taking care of them, not the other way around. Without her, I couldn't do anything right.

"No," Kate's voice sang in that usual high-pitched way of hers. "His insomnia is still giving him trouble."

"Insomnia, is that what it is," Iggy said with a tinge of patronising anger.

I walked into the kitchen, deciding that I couldn't let this conversation go any further. Kate skipped off with a lollipop twirling in her mouth. I did what I always did when this kind of thing happened, I pretended nothing had happened and started talking about some film that was on the TV the other night. When I asked if Iggy had seen it, he didn't even make the usual sarcastic comment about being blind- he just said that he had and started discussing it with me. He was just happy to see me make an effort, even if I still wasn't facing up to the glaringly obvious problem that I had.

The Flock were shocked that I was so talkative these days, they thought it was down to my family. I finally came out of my shell once reunited with Mom, Kate and George. I had tried to call him Dad, but I couldn't do it. It was hard enough to call my mother 'Mom'- George was nothing to me, just Mom's husband. They had tried, but I still wasn't happy. Not without her.

My sudden desire to talk to others wasn't anything to do with them though. I made an effort these days, because I finally realised how important communicating was. Maybe if I had been more open in the past, people- including myself- would have realised how I felt. Maybe it would have turned out differently. Maybe it would have been very different, and maybe Max and I would be happy now.

To be honest I was getting sick of 'maybes'. I was getting sick of talking so much and not being able to do so with the one person who would actually listen. I was getting sick of being so pathetic, moping and mooning over someone who wasn't here anymore. But whenever I tried to force myself into moving on, I just wasn't able. Deep down I knew that I could never completely let her go. Not her. Not the unforgettable, indescribable Maximum Ride.

Iggy left some time later in another bout of silent anger- I had given him another envelope. A brown paper envelope with a sheaf of crumpled bills inside. Money. My only way of really taking care of our broken Flock at all. Iggy always shook his head sadly with a twinge of distaste when I gave it to him. It made me look even more pathetic in their eyes. At first they had refused to take it, but I guessed that Iggy had told them to just accept my money. He knew that it made me feel like less of a failure- it made me believe that I could take of them, even when I could barely take care of myself. What more could I do- an empty shell of a man with bruised and tired eyes, a shattered heart and a hollow cavity where happiness used to be. Money was all I could do for them anymore.

Iggy took the money because he knew I needed him to take it, but the pathetic act still made him angry and upset. Well, those adjectives were understatements- but I wasn't all that great at describing feelings anyway. Max never had a clue how I felt, hell- neither did I. So while it might upset the Flock to be taking money from me, I did anyway because it made me feel like I was at least trying to live up to Max's expectations.

Iggy went home after telling me to get some sleep. I nodded and said that I would, but I knew I was lying. Sleep was overrated anyway.

Traditionally, I opened my curtains as the darkness closed in, anticipating the beating of strong wings. The one sound that would stop me from completely falling to pieces. The one sound of hope that would keep me hanging on.