First off- a huge thank you to every single person who leaves me a review and brightens up my day! I really can't express my thanks enough, I really appreciate it and I feel so honoured! This is back to Fang POV and it's the longest chapter so far. I really can't say much more other then Thank You. Enjoy it, let me know what you think. For those who were asking- the 'action' will commence after this chapter. But don't go expecting car chases and gunfights... please! This isn't a story that focuses on action I'm afraid. Thank you again. Voila! =]

~ Fang POV~

Mom was complaining. Her lipstick had gone missing. But honestly, what did she expect when she left it on the chair outside?! Some innocent bird probably stole it to build a nest with. So I just stayed at the table staring into the depths of my coffee cup and listening to her car drive off. Apparently she just couldn't do without this one particular shade of lipstick. Kate went with her and George was already at work- oh the unadulterated joy, an empty house. Living in a house with a television had turned me into a sarcastic grouch. Well, that was one of the more minor reasons.

"Fang."

I could hear someone call my name, but I didn't care enough to answer. The house was supposed to be empty- why couldn't people just leave me alone with my thoughts. Just for a while. So I returned to my coffee- not actually drinking the black, soulless liquid but just slumping my head over it and inhaling its strong smell. The deep aroma filled the kitchen, I could never understand how Mom drank this stuff. It looked like polluted water and it smelled like something burnt.

"Fang!"

The voice was getting more impatient. But I was too tired, too frustrated, too broken to listen. This was what I got for staying in the garden all night. Sitting in the cold, dew-soaked grass waiting for her. Waiting to see her face again- and this time it would be highlighted by the soft light of the moon and not the bright rays of the sun. I needed to see her face. I needed her- to hold her so that I wouldn't feel so wretchedly broken. And then she wouldn't feel broken either- because only I knew that she actually was.

But she never showed. Like always. She just didn't come, and I sat there alone in the cold until dawn broke again. I stumbled into the kitchen and met Mom making George's breakfast. I didn't speak. I just went into the bathroom and splashed cold, cold water on my bleak face. Then Mom made Kate use the phone. Stupid, idiotic wireless communication device. And now someone was here, calling my name and trying to break through yet again.

I felt myself tip sideways off my chair- whoever it was that was trying to talk to me had pushed me roughly on the shoulder. Not a gentle push- a strong shove.

"What?" I asked in that hoarse voice of mine, my question didn't even sound like a question- it was just something to say for saying's sake. I should have sounded indignant or annoyed, but I didn't. Just the usual- hoarse, emotionless and empty.

"Kate called me. Your Mom's worried, man. What are you doing?" Iggy asked. I should have known it was him. Who else would it be?

"I'm not doing anything. Just… breathing." I could have said living, but that wasn't really true was it- it was an empty existence void of joy or contentment. I was still broken.

"George wants you to go to the doctor, he's worried about your 'insomnia'." Iggy sounded scathing as he spoke that one word. My excuse. The family couldn't argue with a disease.

"I told him- I'm fine."

Iggy threw back his head and laughed. Not in humour or mocking, but just a dry, loud laugh. "Fang- lying to me is one thing, but lying to yourself is another. You can't honestly believe that."

"Don't lecture me on lying! Every single one of you are lying to yourselves. Convincing yourself that Max is okay and-"

"Fang, listen to yourself for Christ's sake! Max is okay- you are the only one who is destroying himself here. Talk to me, tell me what the hell is wrong."

He outstretched his fingers, and I pulled away instantly. His fingers stayed suspended in the air, and I glared at them. "Don't," I pleaded. "Please don't, just let me stay unseen."

"Why?" Oh what a simple little word it was, laden with a million implications.

"Because you won't like what you see. And I hate seeing it too."

"Then just tell me," he sighed. "Just tell me what is wrong, and we'll get through it. You are walking round like a lifeless zombie and it's scaring the others. Nudge and Angel are on the brink of tears any time they think of you, Gazzy and Total think you are depressed. And I wouldn't mind, but I know that you put on that stupid mask around them and pretend that you are happy and okay- what would they think if they saw you like this? Just tell me what is wrong- talk it through and stop bottling it all up."

"I can't."

"I can handle whatever you tell me, Fang. Come on, I can handle it."

I looked into the depths of my dark coffee. "Maybe I can't."

Iggy sat still. Biting on his lower lip and closing his sightless eyes. And then I started to speak. I started baring my soul, and once I started I couldn't stop. The words just kept coming and the mask disintegrated, they had pushed me too far and now I couldn't keep in it. I had to make them understand, I needed help in finding her. I needed their help, and I couldn't get that unless they understood how Max really felt. I kept speaking, and spilling my secrets. I was showing him how I felt, and it was an odd experience. An experience that I never indulged in before. For the first time, Iggy was seeing how I really felt. He could see now that I could not cope with facing up to myself or the way I felt.

"I can't handle not seeing her, Iggy. I can't handle knowing how much I screwed up. I can't handle knowing that she is alone and unhappy. I can't handle being this broken and empty. I can't handle the lies that you all tell yourselves, or the stupid way you convince yourselves that Max is okay. You are the ones lying and you have no idea how much damage you are doing. You don't know her like me- you really just don't know h-"

"Fang, just stop," Iggy said wearily. Anger was bubbling under the surface of his cool facade and I could tell that it was vying to get free and go on a rampage. "Don't try to accuse us of not knowing Max or not caring about her. We do! We love her- and you need to face up to the fact that you do too. This isn't healthy, Fang- obsessing over her and deluding yourself into thinking you can hear her wings. It's crazy and it's ridiculous. Max is gone Fang- wake up and get to grips with reality! Deep down, you know why she left. She left because she knew that she was going to lose you. She thought you would be happy here, so why don't you at least try to do that? Do you honestly believe that if she was still here that things would be different? Max didn't want you Fang. She ran away from you. Every single time you tried, she ran away. So move on- she didn't want you and she isn't going to either. Just move on like she wanted, we all know that she has."

My body shook. Each word was an individual blow that sent me reeling backwards. He sat there so calmly, as if he was speaking the truth and there was nothing wrong with it. I had shown him how I felt, I told him the truth and took off the mask- and all he did was throw it back in my face.

This is why I used to keep quiet, nobody understood when I tried to express myself anyway. I felt weak and vulnerable, not empowered or liberated by my admissions. I shouldn't have opened my mouth, I should have kept it all in like usual and stayed strong. All my nerves were trembling and my muscles were itching to hit him.

"Get out."

Iggy's relaxed look faltered and he tried to backtrack. "Fang, come on! Just-"

"Get out! Get out, Iggy, before I make you. I'm tired, I'm pissed off and if you don't get out I'll probably hit you, so just get the hell out."

And Iggy left. Again. I didn't follow him- for once one of them had gone running because I had told them to. They were all oblivious- stupid and blind and completely taken in my the comfortable lie that was Maximum Ride: Hero Extraordinaire.

Iggy still didn't get it- they still believed in Max's lies. They still believed that she was invincible and heroic 24/7. Max had weaknesses too, and I knew it. I was still alone on this one. My head played a million images at whirlwind speed- Max turning her head, Max flying away, Max turning her back on me, Max walking away, Max running away from me. I still didn't know why she did that. Fear, maybe. Yeah, I went against the commonly held belief that Maximum Ride was fearless. I knew that there were a few fears lurking under her strong show of strength. So what was it that made her run? Fear of something that was unknown to me. But I didn't care- I just wanted her back. I would take what I could get. Iggy taunting me didn't help my situation, and my hand was clenched around my mug of coffee so hard that my palm was burning.

She left because of you.

Words replayed over and over in my head. My palm burned red and I felt myself fling my cup across the room. Smash. A tinkling sound of china on the white kitchen tiles. A broken cup and a big mess. A broken, shattered, ugly mess.

Why couldn't they just believe me? Why couldn't the Flock help me? They were supposed to understand- we were supposed to be a family… not like these shams we lived with now- a real family: supportive and helpful. I guess I was right all along- there is no Flock now, you just can't function without a Leader. We were just a group of people who used to close once upon a time. We still loved each other, we would still protect each other… but we had drifted apart. They were the ones that needed to wake up to reality. They were so dense that it astounded me. They had become completely enamoured with the false notion of normalcy. I didn't belong there, I wasn't happy living this life… because she wasn't in it.

I knelt down amongst the shards of jagged china and began to clean-up before the rest of the house got home. The blood running down my finger to mix with the spilt coffee told me that I was alive, but it still didn't feel like it. I felt about as alive as the piece of sharp china clasped in my hand. I could finally understand what Johnny Cash and Nine Inch Nails meant when they sang that song 'Hurt'.

I hurt myself today,
To see if I still feel
I focus on the pain
The only thing that's real

What have I become?
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know goes away
In the end

Yes, I definitely understood that now. Hurt and pain override my system in this world where I drift along in a hazy cloud of it. She was gone, my sweetest friend and all I ever needed. But she wasn't completely gone- the others could fool themselves into thinking that she was, but I knew better. If you don't hope to win, you have already lost. I live by hope, and it keeps me more alive.

Mom came back later that day with Kate, still muttering about her missing cosmetics. I had cleaned the kitchen and debated calling Iggy but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Instead, I decided that I should go for a jog to clear my head. I took no heed of my mother's lipstick crisis until I went back into my bedroom to look for a pair of shoes to go for my jog. Once I stepped into my room I knew that it was no bird that had stolen the lipstick- an angel had simply borrowed it. An angel with blonde hair and tawny wings and a killer smile. I froze in my doorway, looking at the transparent glass nestled in-between my open my opwn curtains.

On my window pane in big, brown-pink, mushed-up lettering was a message. The message that turned my hope into belief and faith.

STAY ALERT

X

That scrawl was instantly recognisable- it matched the letter pinned to my wall. I knew that penmanship because I read it every single day. Looping letters running along the window as if they were written in a huge rush.

Max.

There was my proof- scrawled across my window. I had been right all along. Max had been coming to my window, she had missed us. She had missed me. I knew it. I had been right all along, and who cared about what Iggy had said now- I had proof. I wasn't going completely crazy. I was not delusional or filled with false hope. Max was still out there, thinking of us. I could find her- I knew that now more then ever.

The message both lit a fire of blazing happiness and struck a cold chill of fear in me.

Stay alert?

Why? What was happening? What was going on in Max's world- in our world? I could only hope that it wasn't a worst case scenario. I could only hope that Max was alright and that the School was still destroyed and in ruins. Even now, I was still clinging to hope. As Shakespeare said- hope is a miserable man's medicine. But, this couldn't be about the School- even Max wouldn't leave her message that ambiguous if it was a threat that serious. Would she? In her eyes I was Joe Soap- living in the world of sitcoms and hanging out, of family bonding at dinnertime and chatting. She thought I was happy, didn't she? So would she tell me if it was that dangerous?

Whatever it was, it had to be serious. Max didn't take things lightly. Her paranoia had always been a source of amusement, but it was always taken seriously too. Max saw threats everywhere, and usually I could prove to her that it was okay- this time she was on her own. She had to convince herself. It couldn't be a serious threat to our safety, I reasoned, she would have taken more drastic measures if it was. But I had to be on alert anyway, protect them all until Max convinced herself that it was alright and came back.

So I made a resolution to myself. Max was out there. Max needed me to man-up. She needed me to protect our Flock, so I had to pull myself out of this slump. Because now I had proof that she was okay, and once I proved it to the others- we could start looking for my Max. So I rang Iggy and apologised. Then I told him what I had found… he got so annoyed that he hung up on me after a stream of some very choice words. He still didn't believe me. He thought I was going even more crazy then usual. Iggy had lost any faith in me at this stage. But that wouldn't dishearten me now- I had a cause now, a reason. A proof and a foundation for all my hope. My hope had substance now, it had something concrete to be based on.

So I turned to the next in line: I sent Nudge a photo of my window via email with a long message of explanation beneath it. But she still wouldn't let herself be swayed into helping me. She actually thought that I had drawn the message myself in a desperate plea for attention and help. But that didn't get me down, I knew now. I knew that Max was watching me. I knew that she still cared, and it didn't matter that she had run. She would come back, or I would find her.

I resolved to start checking up on the Flock more then I usually would, just in case. I had been Second-In-Command, therefore I was basically the Leader now- even though in my eyes that role would always fall on Max. It was time for me to face up to my duties. It was time for me to do what Max intended. I could protect the Flock and prove to her that it was okay. She could come back once she found a way to calm her paranoia. The empty pain lingered on and did not fade- but I learned to live with it. She was out there- thoughts of Max and the assurance of her quickly beating wings in the night kept me together.

But then, I got worried. It was my watch, but that didn't faze me. I had a breakthrough that day when I saw her writing on my window. It lasted for two solitary nights before I got really worried, and I had to go back to clutching at the straws of hope. Just a few hours, from the evening before until darkness fell again. Max didn't always come to my window every night, but after a message like that… The others still didn't believe me. I was still on my own.

I only had a few hours of complete trust in her safety before I went back to desperately clinging to scared hope. A message of warning upon my window, and then a night void of sound and full of deafening silence. My ears strained to hear it- to hear something, anything. My heart pleaded for the hope to come back- the hope that had substance and a concrete foundation. The silence laughed at me, and my heart emptied.

That night, I stopped hearing the wings.