A/N: So this is going to be another one of those part one/part two chapters to account for the length. The next chapter will continue where this one leaves off. I will post the second part tomorrow after my last class, around five. Keep in mind that Fang is a little out of it when all this is happening, which is why I made it so vague and jerky. In the next chapter, more will be explained as a cohesive story. Read on.


Fang (2014)

There were voices near me. Or no, maybe they were me. I tried to focus, to listen, to figure out where they were coming from, but I couldn't focus on anything, because my mind kept coming back to one thing.

My wings hurt.

And not just hurt, they hurt. They felt on fire, torn open, torn off maybe. Were they? Maybe it was my shoulders that were hurting…

I couldn't tell.

It was mind numbing, scream inducing, sob causing, gut wrenching, heart throbbing pain.

That was all I knew.

Cautiously, ever so gently, I tried to move one, just to make sure it was attached.

I think I screamed. I must have screamed.

The pain sharpened into a blazing hot blade sinking into my shoulder. It was overpowering. It stole the air from my lungs, I could feel my heart thumping dangerously fast in my chest. I literally saw red.

Suddenly, I could hear everything around me. Voices raised. None of it made any sense. The pain was so distracting.

"….control it!.... can't… so sorry…. Have to fix it…Try harder!"

How many voices was that? Two? Three?

Was that somebody whimpering? Could it be me?

Why was everything so dark and clouded? Where was I?

A blanket went over the sound again. Now there was nothing but the pain.

Sorry.

The sound came from nowhere and everywhere. Like a thought in my head, but not my own thought.

I only knew one person who could do that.

The sound of silence seemed to stretch on and on. The darkness engulfed me. The pain remained.

"Hey."

I rolled my head away from the sound, felt my shoulders ache with the movement.

Someone slapped my face. Not gently. "Hey!"

"Take it easy!" Someone else. Sounded like a girl.

"Why should I?" The first voice again. A boy. Young. A little familiar. He sighed. "What did you say his name was, again?"

"Fang." The girl again.

Now I made an effort to open my eyes. They knew my name.

The boy snorted a laugh."Nice name," He hit me again, maybe a little gentler than before, but not much. "Hey, Fang. You better wake up. We have some questions for you."

Definitely a motivator. I had a few questions of my own.

Finally, I was able to open my eyes, though it was a few seconds before I could see anything. It was bright, much too bright.

I squinted at the light, trying to see past it. I tried to bring my hand up to shade my eyes, but I couldn't move it. I looked down. I was sitting in a chair, my hands were tied together, and then tied to a wrung around the legs of the chair. The rope was slack enough that I could rest my hands on my lap, but not raise them any higher. My feet were tied too.

"As you can see, you're not going anywhere. So you may as well answer my questions."

I brought my eyes back up. Now I could see a silhouette, standing a few feet away at the base of a tall floodlight pointed directly at me.

Seriously? These guys were old school interrogators.

"First, how did you find us?"

My head was still a little fuzzy, but I was certain the pain in my wings was much less than it had been. I shrugged my shoulders and discreetly shifted my wings, testing the pain.

It hurt-badly-but it was bearable. I might even be able to fly.

"Don't even think about it," he stepped forward, trying to be intimidating I suppose, and I was able to see him better. I was right, he was young, no more than fourteen. No wonder his interrogation skills were lacking. Not very intimidating either.

"You wouldn't even get a foot off the ground before we'd shoot you back down."

We? I turned my head. No sign of the girl I had heard. Ah, the Eraser. He was standing about ten feet to my right, and he was holding a gun. Lovely.

Wait…

"That's a dart gun," I pointed out. My voice shocked me, it was raw and gravely. I definitely must have screamed when the hairy beast had dislocated my wings.

And yet… my wings were fine now. Mostly, anyway.

Even I don't heal that well without help, which means they must have helped.

Interesting.

"A dart gun, yes. As I said, we have questions. Which brings us back to," he paused, leaned closer to me, "how did you find us?"

"Online. I Googled bad-ass thirteen year olds."

He didn't laugh. He hit me.

I've been hit a lot in my life, occasionally even by thirteen year olds. But this kid could hit. I felt my neck crack as my head whipped around.

"I'm almost fifteen, for the record. Now, how did you find us?"

I looked at him coolly. "You know, I didn't catch your name."

"I didn't offer it. Now tell me how you found us or I'll hit you again."

"Tell me your name and I'll tell you how I found you."

"Nightwing."

"I flew over."

"Obviously."

"Wait, Nightwing? Seriously? And you take issue with 'Fang'?"

He hit me again. My witty banter was paused for a moment as I collected my senses.

"I've good reason for my name, as you well know. I know your mistress doesn't keep you that clueless."

"What?"

He ignored my question. "Now, I want specifics. It took you awhile longer this time. It's been, what, three months? So what gave us away?"

"I honestly have no idea what you're talking about."

He sighed. "Tell you what. You start telling me the truth and maybe I'll let you crawl back to your mistress. After Bernt tears your wings off, of course." He indicated the Eraser, still standing there watching the proceedings impassively.

"Bernt, now? Man, you guys are a creative bunch."

"No worse than Nudge or Iggy or Gasman, I think," he said smugly, then grinned in a very unnerving way, "or Maximum."

All systems froze. I kept my face blank, retreated behind a mask of indifference.

"Nothing to say now? Odd, isn't it? I can threaten to tear your wings off and you don't even flinch. Mention your little Flock and you shut down."

"You've got some faulty information. I'm not with them anymore." My voice was strained, my wings were starting to throb with the tension in my muscles.

"I don't care about them," he said, and I made sure my relief didn't show. Max didn't need some psycho fourteen year old and his pet Eraser chasing after them. "What I want to know about," he continued, "is who you're with now. And how you managed to find us."

This conversation was getting a little too vague for me to follow. "Okay, look. First of all, I'm not with anyone. I'm alone. Solo. Secondly, I wasn't looking for you. I was looking for food. The place seemed deserted." Until I landed and saw the little girl. But I didn't want to think about what they did to her.

He cocked his head to the side like he was listening to something. He was quiet for a few seconds.

"Fine. Say I believe you. Am I just supposed to believe it was a coincidence that you, of all people, just happened to find us?"

"What do you mean, me of all people?"

"I mean you were a part of her Flock!" he said emphatically, "She's looking for us, and you just happened to find us?"

"M-" I swallowed, "Max is looking for you?"

He looked at me strangely. "What? No! I'm talking about that little psycho with the white wings! The one who has all those people following her around, using them like puppets. The one who keeps sending people after us for some reason. The one you call-"

"Angel."


A/N: Ah, so Angel's whereabouts are revealed. Tune in next time to learn a little more about her motives.

If you didn't follow what just happened, I suggest reading it again. And then reviewing. Always review. It makes me squirm with joy!

Thanks for reading!