Sorry. Yeah I know y'all hate me. I'd really like to explain myself, but hey. Just excuses, right? Hahaha. Anyway, I'm really sorry for not updating for like, what, a month?! Hopefully you have not forgotten..
(Because of this, please don't review after a month for revenge. Hahaha.)
By the way, I'm sorry if this chapter turns out a little confusing. Read it and understand it. The ending is meant for you to ponder about. :D As for the middle, I wanted to try that 'method' out. Kinda worked out well for that certain segment, to me. I would certainly love to hear your thoughts on it! (Maybe you should scroll back up and read this after you're done reading the whole chapter.)
I wonder if I'll receive negative feedback. Oh well. I'll wait and see. :D
Disclaimer: I do not own Maximum Ride or any other characters associated with the story.
Nick panicked.
Beads of sweat formed on his forehead as his gaze flickered from Max, to Tim, back to Max, and to Tim again. His palms began to feel clammy and his mind was in a whirl. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears.
He was so freaking overwhelmed he didn't know what to do.
Emotion! No! Why was he feeling emotion?
How was it that just looking at Max made him feel so much again?
He knew he should tend to Max first, for the sight of her was really horrifyingly scary. Tim could wait - he had only passed out, uninjured, and there was nothing really dangerous among the trees.
What to do, what to do, what to do.
Nick started pacing around subconsciously, and the irrational wind picked up again, sweeping leaves off the ground.
Nick couldn't bring himself to take action.
He plopped down on the floor and leaned against a tree behind him, closing his eyes and placing a hand at his temple.
The sight of Max had robbed him of all coherent thoughts. That couldn't do. He had to sort out his thoughts.
Firstly, why was she here at the orphanage? That was the question that bothered him the most – even the wings didn't bother him as much. She hadn't come once in four years, so why the sudden visit? Then, Max must have been one of the "visitors" with Tim.
And then the wings were a close second. Nick was rather stunned – he wasn't the only one with wings. He felt a strange sense of happiness swell up in his chest; they were both the same. They were equal. He wouldn't be the only freak in the world. That could bring them closer. Yes, it could indeed. He would convince her. But, if she had those wings, how could she have fallen?
Nick stood up and took several tentative steps forward to examine her wings. He winced when he saw her face; unconscious as she was, her face was screwed up in pain. Nick saw a faint pulse at the side of her neck, and he calmed down a little. Just look at the wings. Wings only.
Nick peeled his eyes off Max's face and turned towards the wings. The feathers were dull and looked rather squashed, and Nick immediately understood. She had ended up falling because she had jumped from the tree in an attempt to fly.
Why now, though? Why, of all times and places possible, now, when she was visiting the orphanage?
But it was obvious it wasn't an attempt at suicide – the wings were out after all.
Silly girl.
Wait – what was he doing?!
Max was critically injured, and here he was, thinking and pondering about stuff? There was a better chance that his questions would be answered if Max was freaking alive!
What the hell, Nick! Get a hold on yourself!
He quickly got up and went over to Max, passing Tim on the way. Nick noticed that Tim had fallen on his back when he fainted. His spectacles were askew and his hair a mess. Several leaves had settled on him due to the wind.
Nick frowned, as the face suddenly seemed strikingly familiar to him.
He bent down and adjusted the spectacles. Then, he removed them, stared at the face, and dropped the pair of spectacles in shock. Nick's memory came back to him.
"Right," snorted another guy. His hair was dark brown and he had a squarish face that held a light tan. "Like that time she said she knew this person who could beat your stink-bomb fart record." All the guys roared in laughter, and the girl look merely amused.
Him. Them.
That guy.
He had been one of those three bastards.
Nick face suddenly blackened considerably, and a shadow fell over his face. Gritting his teeth in anger, he clenched his fist so tightly the tendons showed. If one of them was here, there was a high chance that all of them were.
A plan began to formulate in his mind, and as he walked forward to carry the broken Max, he smiled sinisterly.
Max could wait. Nick had seen her rather faint pulse - she had passed out, which meant that she wouldn't suffer and feel the pain. She wasn't going to die. The blood flow had stopped. A few more minutes wouldn't hurt.
Nick slowly stooped down and placed Max gently on the leaf-scattered ground beneath another tree nearby. He closed his eyes and kissed her bloodied forehead, keeping his lips there for a few seconds or so.
He then got up and calmly walked over to Tim's body. He roughly got him off the ground and placed his arms between Tim's armpits. He then spread out his wings and leaped into the sky, Tim dangling from his arms. Nick flapped his wings hard and fast, running all the secluded places he knew from his numerous flights through his mind.
All three of those guys were going to pay.
Especially that bastard who hugged her.
Angel?
Angel, where are you? Oh, there you are.
Why are you standing there? Haven't I told you that it's not safe to stand near the trees? You don't know what's hiding in there.
Angel, please come here.
Come on. Don't look at me like that. It's not safe. Come here!
Ang- Why can't I move?
Angel! Get here now! I think there's something behind you!
ANGEL! I said get here! I can't move and I don't know why! Get away from the trees!
ANGEL!!!! OH MY GOD ANGEL, IT'S ARI! RUN! DON'T LOOK BACK! RUN, ANGEL!
A- Angel?
Why.. What are you trying to do?!
Why are you going back with Ari?
He will torture you!
ANGEL!!
Angel.. No..
He'll kill you..
Angel.. You don't know what Ari's capable of.
No. No. No. Please don't hold his hand.
Don't walk into the woods, Angel. Don't walk with Ari. He's bad. BAD!
Angel..
Angel, don't go.
Angel. No. You don't get it. Don't go. He'll kill you. You have no idea. I have no idea.
Please, Angel.
I don't want you to die.
Angel.. I can't see you anymore. Why.
Why did you go with Ari?? Hasn't he done enough to us already?
What did he do.. Did he offer her sweets?
Of course that sick bastard must have done something.
Angel, you have to survive. No matter what he does to you.
We are survivors.
But I cannot survive without you.
Angel, don't die.
Please don't die.
I don't know what I'll do without you.
Terry was afraid.
Frightened. Terribly frightened. Dreadfully afraid. Whatever. They were all the same. Just different words describing the same thing.
The whole orphanage was on fire. Everything was burning. The heat was overwhelming, chaos reigned and the adults and older children were trying to do what they could while the fire engine made it's way here. Most of the younger children were being herded into a safe area in the care of what seemed to be one of the older children from the orphanage. She was taking charge; doing a head count, asking if everyone was alright.
Mr. Batchelder, on the other hand, was more of something to worry about. The rest of the older children were trying to get whatever source of water they could to put out the fire, but all he did was to stand there, observing and taking notes down onto a clipboard.
Despite all that, chaos reigned.
There were many children screaming, and majority were crying. Some could not be moved - they were rooted to the ground, and those who were helping had trouble moving them to a safer place where the smoke would not hurt them. The blazing fire sent acrid plumes of smoke billowing into the the air, and the fire engine was fifteen minutes away.
Worst of all was the condition of the little blonde-haired girl that they had saved from under the burning bedframe. Judy was tending to her, her back hunched protectively over that girl as she worked and did the best that she could do whilst waiting anxiously for an ambulance.
There was so much to worry about, and so much help that was needed.
But all Terry could concentrate on was that little Mocha-Girl, mumbling while she lay on her side. "Angel.. Don't die."
He didn't know why. He had no idea at all. She was all he could concentrate on. He didn't want to take in the chaos; he didn't want to traumatize himself. Yes, Terry was easily traumatized. That was why he acted like a huge egomaniac full of pompousness and ego.
As that girl mumbled another string of incoherent words, images started to flash in front of Terry's eyes.
Fire. Blazing heat.
Water. Buckets full of water, trying to put the fire out.
The scream.
The burn.
No. No. He must not think of that.
Concentrate on the girl. That's it. Concentrate on the girl.
Concentrate on the girl. There wasn't any need to remember the past.
"Shh, Terry, shh. Everything will be all right.."
That whisper echoed hauntingly in his head.
"Yes, Momma," Terry rasped, and the word escaped into the air. It was lost in the heat and the noise, and in a way, Terry was glad for that, for no one could hear him at his weakest moment.
"Who's a good boy now. Who's a goooood boy."
"I am, Momma." Terry closed his eyes and bent over. He pulled his knees to his chest and hugged his legs, before he started to rock back and forth. "I'm the goodest boy in the whole wide world."
"Shh, Terry, shh. Everything will be all right.."