A/N: La, la, la, la, la. Lots and lots of reviews. La, la, la, la. I am bored. Is anyone else bored? La. La. La. I can't believe how astoundingly long that last chapter ended up being! If I hadn't spilt it up, it would've been like, thirty pages long! Aren't y'all glad I divided it up? I just read the Author Note that I put up at the beginning of the prologue. Remember that? I said I didn't think this story would be very long. HA! Yeah, right. This story is getting to be pretty colossal. Where did I leave off last chapter? Honestly, I forgot. Let me go check. La, la, la, la….oh yeah. The Voice. Right. I knew that. I was just testing you guys. Yeah. As you may have guessed from the title, this is the chapter in which some of our questions are finally answered. Aren't we excited?
This story has over 150 reviews! YEA! Thank you guys. I'm going to see if I can hit 200. It's possible. Just, you know guys, review a lot.
RMF#8: I suck at the board game Clue. My seven-year-old brother can beat me at it. However, I kick butt at Scrabble. My special Scrabble word that I always somehow manage to use every game is "qat". This is a real word. I have no idea what it means, but it was in the Scrabble hint book. It always drives me to victory. Another game I'm good at: BINGO! I love playing bingo, because I'm extremely lucky at it and always win at least once. The highest amount of bingo prize money I ever earned in one sitting: $64.00. That was at a family reunion. They started getting suspicious after I won four times in a row, and thought I was somehow cheating. How in the world do you cheat at Bingo?
Oh yes, as in my other story, Dentistry, the Voice is the italicized stuff with quotation marks. Max's thoughts are the italicized stuff WITHOUT quotation marks. Just FYI. Oh. And SORRY that it took so long. I've just been, you know, busy. Sorry.
Disclaimer: I do not own Max. Or Fang. Or the Voice. Or anything. Wait! I do own the "SC SC SC" thingy, which Ashley-Lampost stole from me. I SHOULD SUE! J/K, I luv you Ash.
Chapter Nine: Answers
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"Hello, Max. It's been a while."
I almost jumped a foot, but couldn't. I was still too nauseous.
Not nearly long enough for me, I thought back at the Voice.
"So bitter. Didn't you miss me?" the Voice replied. The Voice was completely lacking of emotion, but I could somehow feel the sarcasm in my mind.
Like a headache, I snapped back.
"Maximum, I'm in your head, in case you've forgotten. I know you missed me."
"Max?" Fang said. "Can you hear me?" I suddenly remembered that Fang was there, still holding on to my arm. He was looking at me as though debating whether or not I had completely lost my mind this time. I nodded carefully, being sure not to make my brain ache anymore than it already did.
"Is it the Voice?" he asked. I nodded again. I was still too out of it to hold two different conversations.
Why did it hurt so much worse this time? I questioned the Voice. It usually didn't answer me when I asked it something, but hey, it was worth a shot.
"I had to re-manifest myself into your mind. I could've either done it in one go, or I could have done it like last time, shoving my way in over and over. I figured this way would be quicker."
Why did you leave in the first place? Why are you back now?
The Voice paused for a moment. "I'm sorry Max, but I can't tell you that. Maybe some other time."
I almost growled in frustration. Looked like the Voice was back to being it's usual cryptic self.
"What does it say?" Fang asked. I returned my focus back to him.
"It said that… it hurt more this time because it 're-manifested'-" I put air quotation marks around the word. "-Into my head all at once instead of pushing over and over. Like it did in New York."
"Re-manifested?" Fang said, raising his eyebrows fractionally.
"That's what the Voice called it," I explained. Fang frowned. "What?"
"I don't know. It's just the.. word choice. It doesn't sound like…" Fang trailed off when he saw me looking at him confusedly. "Never mind," he sighed.
I leaned against a tree trunk and sat down stiffly, my head still spinning. If it had been one of the old brain explosions, I would have been fine by now. I wondered how long the whole nausea-headache side effect would last. "I knew it was to good to be true," I muttered.
Fang slid down next to me. "What?"
"The peace," I explained. "Everything was going so well… I was hoping things were normal for good." I tilted my face up to peer at the stars filtering through the treetops. "But now the Voice is back and new batches of Erasers are popping up… and those drawings." I mentally played connect-the-dots with the stars, forming my own constellations.
"Max?" Fang's voice brought me back to land. I looked over at him. He was turning pages in his sketchbook again, examining the offending pictures.
"Yeah?"
Fang glanced up at me. "Ask the Voice if it knows anything about these drawings."
"Okay," I said agreeably. "I'll try. It doesn't really like handing out info, though." Fang closed the black book as I closed my eyes.
Voice? You there?"
"I'm always here."
No you're not. You ditched me for two years!
"That's not what I meant." I could feel the Voice's stressed patience. It made my head twinge. "Now are you going to argue with me, or you going to ask me Fang's question?"
Well since you obviously already know what I'm going to ask you… I grumbled back.
"You still haven't figured it out?" The Voice was speaking condescendingly now. It seriously ticked me off, and i was already grouchy enough.
Clearly I haven't! I snapped. Now are you going to tell me, or are you going to play mind games?
The Voice didn't answer me.
I huffed angrily and reopened my eyes. Fang was watching me expectantly. "Well?"
"Nothing," I answered. "It won't freakin' tell me." I rubbed my temples fiercely.
"Try again," Fang said. I looked up at him, surprised. "Only don't snap at it this time," he added. I sighed. I swear, Fang can read my mind better than Angel can.
Voice?
"Max?"
Could you… uh, please tell me what's with the drawings?
"Please?" More sarcasm, fueling my headache. "And here I thought no one had taught you manners…"
I waited impatiently. Fang squeezed my shoulder encouragingly. He knew I hated asking nicely. I was used to being in control, not being in control of others.
"Well, I guess it couldn't hurt. What exactly do you want to know?"
I flashed Fang a quick thumbs up before asking, Are the pictures from the whitecoats or did Fang do them?
"Fang," the Voice answered shortly.
He did? I glanced up at him. But Fang said he didn't remember…
"It's called an indirect physical premonition."
Huh? A what?
I felt, rather than heard, the Voice sigh. It was like thunder rumbling against my brain. "An indirect physical premonition. You do know what a premonition is, yes?"
I was about to retort, but then remembered that I was trying to stay on the Voice's good side. If it had one. Yeah. It's the first part that lost me.
"An indirect physical premonition means that the Seer doesn't actually see the future or even sense what's coming. Instead the Seer is simply a channel, allowing a premonition to form a physical state. That physical state could be water spilling to form an image, small objects moving towards each other to make words, or many other things. The way the premonition merges into the physical world is unique to every channeler In this case, the premonitions are taking form in drawings. The Seer has no memory of channeling the energy however which way they did it. Now do you understand?"
I blinked, trying to absorb all of the sudden information. Uh… sort of?
The Voice chuckled. Pain shot up behind my eyes. Why does that hurt? I asked grumpily.
"Your mind is still tender."
Right. That made perfect sense. I brought my attention back to Fang, who was waiting patiently for me to finish my conversation with myself.
"You done?" he asked quietly.
"I think so. Give me a second," I mumbled, dropping my sore head into my hands. I slowly massaged my forehead, closing my eyes for a moment more. Fang rubbed my back between my wings the way I liked.
"Does it still hurt bad?" he murmured.
"A little," I admitted. "But I'm okay." I sat up carefully, opening my eyes again. I felt kind of dizzy still, but hey, at least I wasn't puking my guts out again. "Okay…" I began. Fang watched me intently. "According to the Voice, the pictures did come from you, but you didn't know about it because they were indirect physical premonitions."
Fang's blanker than usual expression told me that he had no idea what that was either. "A what?"
"It's like…" I frowned, trying to remember exactly what the Voice had said. "Apparently you're are a Seer, only you don't See. Instead you… channel the premonition into a physical state and don't remember doing it."
"So…" Fang fingered the sketchbook. "Those drawings were from me channeling?"
"That's what the Voice says." I picked up a dead leaf and twirled it by the stem. "Looks like you got a power after all." I started shredding the leaf into tiny bits.
Fang didn't reply, just nodded, kind of staring off into the forest. I knew that look, though you wouldn't catch it on Fang often. It might something "awkward" was bothering him. "Awkward" meaning, of course, human emotions, which Fang is still in denial of having.
"What's the matter?" I ask softly. I didn't really expect him to give me an honest answer. But I had to try. Fang has comforted me too many times to count. This time it was my turn.
His eyes flickered over to me, but remained locked upon a random tree. "…The forgetting thing. I don't like not remembering. It's… weird."
I knew that that wasn't entirely it, but if Fang didn't feel like opening up to me, then I wouldn't press him. "Fang, people forget things all the time. It's normal, not weird. Don't even tell me what's weird. You're talking to the crazy girl who speaks to voices in her head."
Fang smiled at my self-abuse, making me blush scarlet. I dumped my leaf bits into his hair so he wouldn't notice.
"Hey," he whined mockingly. He shook his head like a dog, whipping his hair around, but didn't succeed in getting any of the leaves out. All he did was screw up his hair. I laughed hard, leaning against Fang. Before long, Fang was laughing too.
"Here," I gasped out. I picked the worst of it of out of his hair, carefully being sure not to blush again. Fang sat still, mockingly solemn. Once his head was leaf free, I leaned back and examined him critically. His hair was stuck up every which way, as though he had just emerged from a hurricane. "There. Perfect."
Fang looked at me sourly, but in an almost good-natured way. "If my hair looks like crap, just tell me now."
I laughed again. "No. Actually, it's not half bad." Actually, it was a pretty good look for Fang. Fang generally just left his hair flat and straight, but with it all tousled up, it looked adorable.
Wait. Bad Max. Adorable? Since when have I used the word "adorable" in reference to anything besides Angel?
"Maybe you have feelings for him," the Voice piped up. My head pounded irritably as the sound reverberated in my aching skull.
I mentally groaned. Oh, back on that rant again, are we?
"Yes. Unless you want me to convert to the other?"
I rolled my eyes. Yeah, yeah, I know. Save the world. It's my destiny, etc., etc., etc.. You want to tell me how?
"All in good time, Maximum. All you have to do is listen."
Right, whatever. Shut up now.
I returned my attention to Fang, who had, of course, noticed my brief descent into insanity.
"What does it want now?" he asked quietly, careful not to make my headache worse. No one could be quiet like Fang could.
"Same old, same old," I replied airily. Fang watched me closely, scanning for any sign that I might be making secret plans to sneak away and ravage my arm open. Yeah. Right. Like I was stupid enough to do that again.
"So you're okay now?" I couldn't tell if he meant it as statement or a question. Either way, I answered it.
"Yeah. I'm fine. What about you?"
Fang smiled softly, making me blush once more. I knew he wasn't going to answer that. Fang rarely talked about how he was feeling, pain wise or emotion wise. I ducked my head down so he wouldn't see the pink tint in my cheeks.
After a moment, Fang gently lifted my chin so that he could see my face. Luckily, most of the blush had faded out by then. "I'm good," he said, studying me meticulously. "But you look like you could use some sleep."
"Is that suppose to be an insult?" I asked lightly, avoiding his dark eyes.
"No." He swept some of my hair behind my ear and pressed his hand against my forehead. "You just look kind of peaky." Fang frowned. "And you have a fever."
I glanced up at him, and his dark eyes locked with mine. "It's just a headache," I insisted. Fang's chocolate irises seemed to suck me in again. I tried to blink, but couldn't.
"You still need to rest," Fang murmured. His hand slid down to cup my cheek, thumb slowly tracing my cheekbones. I started to feel lightheaded, and it wasn't from the dizziness. With a great exertion of willpower, I managed to force my eyes down and broke the contact, finally sucking in a breath I didn't know I'd been holding.
"We better head back then," I muttered. Fang nodded and stood stiffly, (his leg must have still been bothering him), before offering a hand to help me up. I took it and rose carefully, head spinning.
"You sure you can fly?" Fang inquired, looking at me doubtfully. I waited a minute for my head to clear up so I could answer somewhat truthfully.
"Yeah."
Fang cocked an eyebrow but didn't push the issue, just dropped his ominous sketchbook into his ever present backpack. (Be prepared, that's Fang's motto. The Boy Scouts just stole it from him.) I guess he knew I was still kind of out of it, because he rested his hand on my arm and lead me to a clearing in the woods, all while subtlety making sure I didn't do a face plant. I managed to reach the minute clearing without tripping idiotically and busting my pounding skull open. Fang gestured for me to take off first so I did. Fang was in the air just seconds behind me. We flew back to the Martinez's house in pure silence, Fang expertly tailing me the whole way. However, flying seemed to help ease the pain away, and soon I felt fine. Tired, but fine.
All the neighbor's lights were out, but we landed in the backyard anyway for paranoia's sake. Dr. Martinez was still up, reading a newspaper and drinking what looked like tea.
"Good flight?" she asked absently, scanning over headlines.
"Yeah, excellent conditions," I replied, grinning. I just loved how Ella's mom could refer to our abnormalities so casually. Almost as if, to her, they weren't abnormal.
"No trouble?" She glanced up at me and I kind of got the sense that she already knew the answer to that question. I shook it off.
"Nope." Then I realized something. "Where's Fang going to sleep?"
The vet's eyes drifted over to Fang, who was still shadowing me protectively. Then she started reading the paper again. "Couch or in your room. His pick." She raised her mug to her lips, drinking deeply. "There's a sleeping bag in the hall closet," she added. Dr. Martinez set her empty cup down on a coaster with a click. "Well, I'm going to bed." She rose from her chair. "Goodnight, Max. Fang," she yawned. And with that she turned and left the kitchen.
I looked back at Fang. "Well?"
He just shrugged indecisively. I rolled my eyes and headed off to brush my teeth and change into some PJ's. When I got back to my room, Fang was already there, rolling out a sleeping bag on the floor. I smiled and held out a closed hand so that we could stack fists for the first time in over three weeks. Fang tapped the back of my hand and then slid into his sleeping bag. I flicked off the lights and laid down on my bed.
My mind was just sinking into a shallow slumber when Fang whispered my name. "Max?"
"Hmm?" I mumbled inarticulately.
"Did the Voice say why it left? Or why it came back now?"
I blinked slowly, trying to remember. "No… it said it couldn't tell me. Why?"
I waited patiently, but he didn't reply. There was no way I was going to be able to stay fully awake for another minute, so I closed my eyes again and said quietly, "Night, Fang."
"Goodnight, Max."
I rolled over and let my best friend's steady breathing loll me to sleep.
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A/N: GRR! I AM MAD! Okay, does anyone know that new show coming on called "Heroes"? (If you don't, just imagine a not so mutant-y television show version of X-Men). Well, I was watching a commercial for that, and in it this guy was painting a picture of a bus crash and then the next week, he sees the same bus in the newspaper. THEY SO RIPPED OFF MY IDEA! Grr. It just makes me feel like… suing somebody. Oh well. So! I just completed my first week as a freshmen. Go me! And I was never late and I didn't get lost. I did lose my ID… but luckily for me, I found it later. I have no idea how long it will take for me to get the next chapter up, but I'll go as fast as possible. There will be Fang's POV next chapter. I don't know how much, but there will be some Fangy. (I just realized the distinct lack of his POV these last couple of chappies…). I'll get it up as soon as I can. Wish me good luck for my next week of highschool!
P.S.: I officially have a title for the sequel. "A Little Person Called God". I am currently forming an outline for it in my head, but I'm not going to start writing it yet because I need to focus my energy on this story. But I'll tell you now, I started setting things in motion for it in this chapter. If you've got any theories and/or ideas for the sequel, please review. And if you don't, review anyway. Just... review, guys.