They had separated at the age of fifteen; it was Fang who left, leaving Max and the rest of their flock of bird kids devastated. He told them he'd come back in twenty years, but it ended up being only two- he and Max were completely, utterly in love, and neither of them could take being apart anymore.

Fang came back, and the whole flock moved in with Dr. Martinez. They started school, and Fang proposed to Max on the day of theirs and Iggy's high school graduation. Two months later, they were married; two years later, at age twenty, Max was pregnant.

Everybody was overjoyed, and the baby suddenly became the focus of the household. Rooms were rearranged to make space for the new resident; bottles and booties were bought; Max and Fang spent a lot of time smiling and giggling and hugging each other. It seemed, for the first time in their lives, that the future looked bright.

Then something happened. It came out of nowhere, but when it happened the others realized that lately, Max had seemed quieter, not as happy as she'd been before. Still, nobody was prepared for the day Fang walked into the bathroom to see Max, five months pregnant, holding a razor to her swollen stomach.

"What are you doing?" he yelled, lunging forward and ripping the razor from her grasp. Fortunately, she had only been getting ready to cut herself, hadn't done it yet.

Max didn't answer Fang's question. She just stared at the razor in his hand, her eyes big yet empty. The other members of the house, who had heard the yelling, gathered in the hall.

"Huh?" He tossed the razor onto the counter, pulled her shirt down over her stomach, and gripped her shoulders in his hands. "Answer me, Max. Tell me what you were doing."

She swallowed hard, then whispered, "Getting the baby out."

Fang stared at her, not believing what he'd just heard. Max wanted that baby. She loved that baby. "What do you mean, Max?"

"I need it out."

"Max, what- what-" He really thought he might cry, something he hadn't done since the day after he left the flock. Yesterday everything had been perfect; now, his beloved wife was in the bathroom trying to kill their child. "Max, please. Explain it to me. What are you doing?"

"I told you, Fang, I told you. I need to get it out." Now bordering on hysteria, Max shot out her hand and grabbed the razor off the counter. Before she could do anything, Fang started wrestling it away from her.

"Help me!" he called to the others, who had been too shocked to move. Iggy moved behind Max and tried to calm her flailing limbs. A couple minutes later, Fang had the razor safely in his grasp, and Max was sobbing in Iggy's arms.

Dr. Martinez put her arm gently around Max and led her out of the bathroom. The others watched until they disappeared into Max and Fang's bedroom, and then they exchanged frightened looks. Nobody had ever seen her break like that before.

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After that one episode, things almost returned to normal. There was an air of caution, of fear, in the house, but Max was cheerful as she picked out the colors for the baby girl's room, and the others slowly relaxed.

Three months passed. One day at breakfast, only weeks before the baby was due, Nudge picked up a knife to spread butter on her toast.

In the next second, Max was grabbing the knife out of Nudge's hand and holding it slightly above her bulging stomach. Fang leaped up from his seat at the kitchen table, fear flashing in his eyes, and ran to stop her.

"Max, put that down!" he demanded, snatching it and throwing it into the sink. "What is wrong with you?"

"Out," Max grunted, not sounding like herself at all. "It should be out already. I'm sick of it."

Fang stared at her, wondering if this was the same woman who he had pored over onesies with the day before. "Max," he said desperately, pleading for her to come back, gripping her hands in his own, "you're not sick of her. She's ours, she's our daughter. You love her."

"I don't," she snapped, wrenching her hands from his grasp. Her eyes were trained on the knife, sitting in the sink waiting for her. "I don't want it anymore. I want to get it out."

Then, just like last time, Max started crying. Fang wrapped her up in his arms. Gazzy quickly grabbed the knife in the sink, plus a couple others that were out on the counter, and tossed them under the sink.

Nothing got better after that. Max became very detached, no longer interested in helping with anything related to the baby; Fang never let her out of his sight, afraid of what she might do to their daughter. He also spent a lot of time whispering with Dr. Martinez, and together, they came to a decision: after the baby was born, she would be left in Dr. Martinez's care while Fang took Max away to get help. The flock would be coming with them, because, after much discussion, it was agreed upon that it would be best for the child if she had no idea of the extraordinary circumstances that were her parents' lives.

And that was what happened. When Lovette was two days old, Max was released from the hospital, and Fang immediately loaded her and the flock into the car. He'd found an institute in California to take her to; they were expecting her. Max refused to say goodbye to the baby, but Fang kissed the soft skin of both her cheeks and her forehead, stroked her wings, which would be removed soon, then whispered, "Love you forever," before reluctantly handing her to Max's mother.

He got in the car.

And drove away.

Intense, dude.

Okay, so based on the theories that you guys had, I'm pretty sure nobody saw that coming, which is a good thing. :D So… tell me what you think! Review!