Hiya all! I know I've been gone a long time, but I just finished a Shakespeare production, and this is my first fic that hasn't randomly slipped into Elizabethan English. Seriously. As probably none of you have noticed, I re-wrote the last chapter, and, as promised, here are the reasons.
The fans. I got a few reviews, one in particular, saying that the chapter wasn't up to scratch.
The personalities. After re-reading it, I realized that I had done the characters all wrong. Max was too selfish and annoying, Iggy was just not right.
The language. As cute as it sounded, a seven year old with accelerated brain function would not speak like the children in the fic did.
So I re-wrote it, and I like it much better now. If you haven't already, go read it now, because this chapter won't really make sense without it. On with the story.
Max POV:
We all helped Iggy around, walking him around our room until he could do it himself, and then moving to the surrounding hallways. Iggy learned fast, and pretty soon he was visiting his old haunts with ease, even beginning to dabble in his old arts of bomb making. On these expeditions, little Gazzy followed along, tottering after him and watching excitedly as Iggy "made it go boomsplode."
I loved watching them, my family. We were so close, even though we really had nothing in common, apart from the wings and the living in cages part. As Fang had pointed out a few weeks ago, we were like a flock of birds, and from then on, I'd decided to call us the flock.
A little while later a whitecoat came to take me away. I tried to look brave as we went, because I wanted to be a good example, but also so that Jeb would be proud of me. I wish Jeb was my daddy, and that he'd take us all away.
I ran on the machine while the whitecoat adjusted my IV and put a new bag on, this one full of a blue-ish stuff. I started feeling really yucky. I think I must've fainted, because I woke up in another room with scrapes on my legs and chin.
A lady was standing over me and as soon as she saw I was awake, she started firing questions at me. "How are you feeling?" I still felt yucky. She asked a lot more questions, and then a guy told me he was going to have to filter my bloodstream. Ick. Good thing they put me back to sleep for that.
When they finally let me go, I went back into our room. It's a pretty simple room, and I know it by heart. It's white, with a low ceiling and not good light, and there are five dog crates with blankets in them along one wall. It's not very big, but it's been our home for 7 years.
Fang was sitting alone by himself, drawing with a notebook and pencil he'd stolen from the last whitecoat that took him. Nudge was trying to persuade Iggy to play patty cake with her, and Gazzy was teething on the bars of his crate. I had to laugh. They were so sweet. I hated seeing them here. I wished more than anything for an escape.
Jeb looked at his computer screen. If all were to go as planned, he would need to "run away" with the children soon. He needed a house to go to, one secluded, away from human activities, and he thought he had found the perfect one. All he needed to do now was close the deal.
Just as he was putting his hand back on his mouse, Herrington walked into the room. "Jeb." He said. "Urgent news." Jeb was instantly alert. Had something happened to the children? "It's your wife. She says she's pregnant." And Jeb's world exploded into a blast of joy and grief.
YAAAAAAAAAAAAY!!! Tis done! If anyone is wondering what the blue stuff was, it's a solution made by doing fancy shtuff to crab's blood until only the base metal is left. That's right, folks, they were feeding copper into an eight-year-old's blood.
I only need 14 more reviews to get to a hundred, people! So let's try to top that!
R&R&R&R&R&R&R&R&R&R&R…to infinity and beyond!!!!!!
