A/N: Thanks as always to KLoves2Read for keeping me honest as my beta-reader. I was still calling this my "Big Story" when you beta-read this chapter for me. That feels like so long ago!
CHAPTER 13 - HAIL TO THEE, ALMA MATER
Dylan's face was still as stone, eyebrows over-arched above pinpoint irises, lips barely parted, a tense knot where his nose met his brow line. The seconds stretched out like a rubber band pulled impossibly taught.
Fang hovered nearby, watching with bated breath. He balanced on the balls of his feet, looking like he might spread his wings to take off right there in the office.
Val was radiating nervous energy next to him, eyes glued to Dylan's while she mindlessly chewed on her mutilated pen cap. She gripped Fang's arm with her cold fingers until there were little white crescents under each fingertip. Whether she was tying herself or him to the ground, he wasn't sure.
The rubber band finally snapped. Dylan's eyes blew wide and he came gasping back from wherever he'd gone, gulping air like he'd drowned. His eyes fluttered, threatening to roll back, and Fang caught him by the shoulders when he started tipping to one side. Dylan groaned pitifully as Fang eased him to the floor next to the cheap silk ficus.
Dr. Martinez spoke to Fang urgently, crouching next to Dylan. "There's a mini-fridge under the desk in Nudge's office. Grab one of her energy drinks." She reached with two sure fingers to take Dylan's pulse.
Fang scrambled to the office, tripping a little on a bulge in the carpeting as he dropped to his knees by the cheap plastic fridge and grabbing for a can. RockStar was Nudge's coffee replacement; there was always at least a six pack on hand, and he tore one from the box blindly. He rushed back into the hall, desperate to know what Dylan had Seen. What he wouldn't give for Angel's mind-reading powers...
"I feel like I ran a marathon," Dylan mumbled, looking up as Fang rounded the corner.
"Is she okay?" The words tumbled out of Fang's lips, unbidden, and he crouched next to Val. She took the cold can from his weak grip as he leaned over them, balanced on his toes.
Dylan's eyes were closed and his face was pale. "If you call alone and chained to a wall 'okay,' then sure."
"How did she look?" Fang pressed.
Dylan hesitated, just half a second, before stuttering, "Uh, she was sleep...sleeping. A couple of bruises. No bandages."
Fang waited impatiently for more, lips pale and taught, but Dylan fell silent, cracking his eyes slightly to take the opened drink from Dr. M.
"So where is she?" Fang pressed harshly.
"Dunno." Dylan spoke weakly from behind the lip of the aluminum, sipping gingerly and forcing his breathing to slow.
Fang squared his shoulders, feathers puffing up behind him. "What do you mean you don't know? You saw her!" Val flinched as his voice rose to fill the office.
"Dude. Chill. Out. I need a minute, okay?"Dylan glared.
Fang felt sick with urgency. The last thing he wanted was to give Dylan a minute. But then Val turned and pinned him down with her fiery Mom Eyes, and all he could do was bite his tongue and stare grumpily at the floor, sufficiently cowed.
Finally, Dylan chugged the end of his drink and spoke again. "I don't know where She is."
"How can you not know?" Fang snarled.
Val cut in, glancing at Fang sharply before focusing in on Dylan. "Dylan, sweetie? What just happened?"
"I was programmed for Her." Dylan shrugged, his words coming out softly. "I guess I just...felt Her. I Looked there." He glanced up but quickly dropped his gaze, averting his eyes from the intense frown Fang wore. "I know She's far. And I know She's that way." He pointed one shaky finger through the wall where he had been Looking. "But I have no idea how far. All I could See was the cell She's in."
He met Fang's indignant frown and bobbled his head apologetically. "It's just the way it works, man. It's like using binoculars to see something from way far off. Twitch a finger, lose your target. It was a lot just to focus on Her, to See what She sees around Her. Trying to find anyone nearby so I can See more is pretty much impossible at this distance."
"Can you find her again?" Fang heard the desperation in his voice and winced internally.
Dylan grimaced. "Maybe? I don't know. I can't feel Her anymore." He thumbed the tab on his can, placing it on the floor next to him with a sigh. "Having a direction helps, for sure." He pursed his lips, staring at the star logo. Something else was bothering him, Fang could feel it.
"What about Iggy? And Nudge?" Val implored, picking up the discarded can without taking her eyes off Dylan. She was met with a slight shake of his head.
"Just Her." He hesitated. "It doesn't add up, though. I mean, I guess...maybe Hans has changed his MO in the last few years, but..."
"What is it?" Val coaxed.
Dylan shook his head again and met Fang's eyes. "I know ter Borcht threw Hans' name out, but it doesn't look like his work. Her chained to a wall like that?"
Fang's eyes glossed over, tracking beneath half-shut lids while Dylan went on. "Didn't ter Borcht say something else about Her specifically? That Hans doesn't have her?"
"It's a lie," Fang whispered firmly before looking back at Dylan. "Or he's wrong. Misinformed. Half the Flock is missing, and we know Gunther-Hagen would do pretty much anything if he thought he'd get you back."
Dylan winced and Fang stood up, crossing his arms across his chest and nodding firmly. "I've got to talk to the kids, get Gazzy and Angel on board. Then you're going to help us find Dr. Crazy." It was thin, but at least it was a plan.
Dylan eyed him warily. "You're not going to fight me about helping anymore?"
Fang nodded once, sharply, and noted the look of relief that washed across Val's face. "You know Gunther-Hagen. You know what makes him tick. We need to find him." It was a weak concession, maybe, but he didn't want to commit to any more than that. Dylan might be useful to help find Gunther-Hagen, but Fang definitely wasn't sold on the idea of bringing him along for the actual rescue mission.
He also wasn't going to leave Gazzy and Angel behind again, with Flock members disappearing by the day, and three was plenty.
"I'll call the kids." Fang turned away, taking a couple of paces down the hall and fishing his phone out of his back pocket. He speed-dialed the Gasman and waited for it to ring, startled when the phone picked up right away.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Gazzer. Listen, do-" Fang was cut off by Gazzy's immature cackle filling the line.
"Psyyyyych! Gotcha! I'm not around right now, but leave me a message and if you're lucky-"
Fang hung up before the recording finished, swallowing down the bile rising in his throat. It wasn't unheard of for Gazzy to ignore phone calls, but the kid's compulsive texting habit meant that he charged his phone religiously each night. It was always on, and it always rang at least twice before Gazzy picked up or hit 'Ignore.'
It wasn't a big deal, Fang told himself. It shouldn't have been a big deal. Except that every time he blinked, someone else went missing. No matter how much he wanted it to be, this didn't feel like a coincidence.
He turned back to Val and Dylan who were both watching him, still sitting on the carpeting.
Val spoke first, voice laced with dread, "He wasn't there, was he?"
Fang shook his head and Val's face crumpled. She took a steadying breath, blinking rapidly against the tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. Fang turned to Dylan and tipped his head toward the door. "You good to move on?"
"Yup." Dylan nodded loosely and hopped up onto the balls of his feet, steadying himself with the tips of his fingers splayed across the floor. He took a breath before standing all the way, joints cracking. "It always takes a couple of minutes when I go all the way, but I'm good."
"All the way?"
Dylan caught the way Fang eyed him. "I tried to let Her see us, too. So She knows we're looking, you know? Give Her some hope." He leaned back and groaned. "Really kicks the crap outta me, though."
Fang grunted. He got it. Once, he'd tried to make one of National's sailboats Imperceptible. He was going after a difficult wildlife shot, a pod of porpoises that kept spooking. He'd been able to hold on for about four seconds before the sailboat flashed into sight and he fell on his ass, feeling like he was about to puke from the effort and the way the horizon was see-sawing crazily.
He looked at Val, trying for reassuring. "I'm going to find them. I'll bring Max home."
Val stood and nodded fiercely, twisting her lips into a teary half-smile. Her voice shook, "I expect a phone call this time. Don't you dare leave me wondering if you're okay."
Fang leaned towards her and kissed her on the temple. "'Course, mom," he mumbled, pulling back to see her watery smile. She always melted when he called her 'mom.' It was probably something he should try to do more often.
He turned to Dylan with a nod. "Let's go."
They were in the air within three minutes, angling towards the university campus. Fang tried to force himself to breathe easy. Usually, no matter what dark thoughts were running through his head, flying went miles towards clearing them out. And the evening was perfect, with crisp mountain air whistling through his feathers and the setting sun bathing them in brilliant orange. But the closer they got to the kids' apartment, the harder he had to work to keep the worry at bay.
Fang shook his wings out when they landed, trying to shake the tension off, too, but failing miserably. He hated not knowing what to expect. He stood before the peeling red door with the brass number '3' screwed in the center and fished his key ring from his front pocket.
"There's no one in there," Dylan said from beside him.
"They're probably in class." Fang's retort was automatic, but he felt his stomach clench. He needed to be right about this. Maybe Gazzy had finally listened to Max about keeping his phone off when he was in lecture. That would explain the straight-to-voicemail call. That was probably it. Gazzy had finally learned an ounce of responsibility.
The door swung open to a dark apartment, lights off and shades drawn, but Fang's enhanced eyes could see the mess just fine. There were psychology textbooks spread open all across the coffee table and a half-eaten peanut butter and jelly sandwich on the floor next to the couch, but no Angel. Gazzy's book bag was slouched open on a chair, ruling out class.
Fang squinted into the corner behind the couch where there was some sort of black cube about as big as a shoe box with a couple of wires sticking out and sighed. Gazzy never could kick his bomb-making habit. The box was a little cruder than what he was used to seeing from the Gasman, but the bomb itself wasn't unusual.
Then there was the lamp, toppled over in the corner of the room, shade bent and bulb crushed.
Fang jumped when the land line rang shrilly. He ignored Dylan's startled stare and reached to take it off the wall where it was hooked next to a sharpie-covered calendar.
"Hello?"
There was a fumbling pause before a nasally voice filled Fang's ear. "Oh! I wasn't expecting anyone to pick up, I'm sorry. I'm looking for Ms. Ride, is she there?"
Fang swiveled to lean against the wall, crossing his ankles to keep his toes from tapping. "She's not here right now. Who's this?"
"Doctor Brown. I have Angel in my Human Informational Processing class. Do you know how I can reach her? She doesn't seem to be responding to emails. I haven't seen her at an exam review all week, it's quite unusual. She's at the top of the class and I don't want her to fall behind right before the final examination."
Fang's grip on the phone doubled. "She said something about a family emergency. I'll let her know you were concerned."
"Please do. And please tell her I'd be happy to help her make up whatever she needs."
"Sure, thanks." Fang turned grimly to Dylan after the line went dead, face drawn. "We need to find Gunther-Hagen."
Dylan's brows furrowed but he didn't say anything. As they left the apartment, though, he looked at Fang with miserable sympathy. Fang squirmed in his skin, avoiding Dylan's gaze as he locked up. He turned and bumped chest-first into a scrawny kid wearing a university t-shirt and a backwards ball cap.
"Whoa!" The kid backed up a pace, palms facing Fang, and looked him and Dylan up and down in confusion. "I haven't seen you guys around before. You friends of Angel's?"
"Older brother," Fang said without missing a beat. "You lookin' for Gazzer?"
The kid nodded loosely, grinning easily. "That little bitch owes me five bucks. Said he'd bring over the pizza money after calc on Thursday, but he's skippin' class and he won't text me back. I gotta eat, brah." He shrugged helplessly and gave Fang another once-over. "Older brother? You don't look like you're related to either of 'em."
"Missionary parents," Fang shot back. "We're all adopted." He winced internally over the old habit resurfacing. He hadn't used that excuse in years. Hadn't needed to, not since the flock was on the run.
But now, he was running.
The kid guffawed, eyes popping wide. "Brah, are you for real? I am gonna ride his ass so hard about skipping that fantastic detail. He probably has heinous youth group stories or some shit." He took a step toward the apartment door but Fang blocked him, arms folded.
"He's not here."
The kid peered over Fang's shoulder, unconvinced. "Oh, yeah? Then what were you guys doing inside? And how am I supposed to buy Ramen? I have to last another week before my student loan clears."
Dylan looked pointedly at Fang, raising his eyebrows and glancing obviously toward the kid. Fang sighed and pulled his wallet from his pocket, thumbing a twenty out of the billfold and handing it to the kid.
His eyes lit up and he clutched the bill tightly. He rushed through a thank you and turned around, disappearing in the inky black car lot.
Dylan moved to stand in front of Fang. "They're all gone."
Fang rolled his eyes at the obvious statement, jaw clenched. He turned on his heel and came face-to-face with the closed door. When he turned around, Dylan was still there. Fang wanted to punch something.
Dylan looked frantic, fidgeting compulsively, fingers twitching, feet shuffling, head bobbing sharply as his anxiety rose. "They've all been taken and we don't even know where to look!"
Dylan's anxiety attack was the last thing that Fang wanted to deal with. He had enough on his plate without babysitting Dylan, too. He needed a clear head. He needed to make a plan. He needed to be able to act. He hardly cared whether or not Dylan still wanted to tag along, but if he was gonna pitch a fit, he could take his sorry ass back to Switzerland.
"We'll start with Iggy," Fang decided. "Ella mentioned an incident at work when he disappeared. Maybe we can dig up a lead."
Dylan nodded, agreeing, "Okay, okay. That's a start." He paused and looked to Fang. "Man, it has been so long...I can't believe she and Iggy are still together. Where are they even living now?"
Fang looked disbelievingly at Dylan, lips curled in a sneer. That's what Dylan wondered about? How long Iggy had been macking on Ella?
He refocused on the important question with a roll of his eyes. "They're down in Tucson. We can get there early if we fly overnight."
Dylan visibly deflated. When he opened his mouth, he was hesitant. "Fang, no offense. I know this is super important, really, I do. But I haven't slept in, like, a day and a half."
Fang scowled. Sleep had been the last thing on his mind. Of course, now that Dylan brought it up, the fatigue hit him like a brick wall. The only sleep he'd gotten in the last two days was a couple of fitful hours on the ride home from Switzerland. Dylan hadn't slept at all.
He rubbed absently at the numb spot on top of his thigh, the spot where ter Borcht had injected him, and sighed.
"We should rest," Dylan insisted, and Fang grumbled his reluctant agreement. He hated it, but Dylan was right. When he was tired, he made mistakes, and he needed to be firing on all cylinders.
They made the short flight back into town and Fang let them into his hollow apartment, emptiness setting in as he hooked his keys on the wall. He could smell Max in the rooms, her skin and her shampoo and her lavender dryer sheets, and was dreading sleeping alone in their bed tonight.
He stopped to shoot a text to Valencia, stalling for time before he had to head down the hall. He typed out four different versions of his text, trying to figure out what to say. He knew she'd only worry more. She'd also probably stuff his head in an empanada if he avoided telling her what was going on.
By the time he'd finished, Dylan had already toed out of his shoes and was taking the back cushions off the couch. Fang nodded goodnight, stiffening in anticipation of nothing, and padded dejectedly to his bedroom. He scanned the still-made bed, the still half-open window, the still half-packed bag from the night Dylan had Seen him.
Max's absence hung over everything.
In a split-second decision, Fang lowered himself to the floor next to the bed, stretching out in the pale rectangle of moonlight that spilled in from the windowpane. He folded his arms across his knotted stomach and glared at the ceiling, wishing he didn't need to sleep at all but feeling the fatigue tugging at the corners of his thoughts.
He tossed and turned and couldn't figure out how to get his mind to just shut up until he reached up to grab the pillow from Max's side of the bed. And there, ensconced in the delicate, girly, heady smell that was so Max, sleep took him like the undertow of a rip current and he was finally able to rest.
A/N: I feel so far behind! D= I am learning so much about writing by working through this story, but that makes for a LOT of back-editing to make sure each chapter I post is up to par. I mean, I'm always going back to make sure little details get mentioned or tied together, but there's a completely different level of editing that happens every time I post a new chapter. I'm supposed to do a last check for continuity, and end up doing what feels like a complete overhaul. Eep!
Bookwriter16: Thanks. =)
thestupidgenius1123: Max is always Max. I was trying to strike this balance between her worry/fear/desperation, but also make it clear that she's not completely broken yet. And yes, Dylan's Sight is definitely making itself useful! It's never a solve-all power, but it's definitely instrumental as they search for Max. I'm trying to give Fang's power some air-time, too, but right now Dylan's is making itself the most useful.
Nola96: Yeeeeeah, the parts with Max and Fang are just so sad. I'm glad it tugged on your heartstrings a little - that was the point! I mean, obviously the goal of the story is to find Max (...and the Flock...), and part of the driving force behind that is the romance between Max and Fang, but the romance isn't the point of the story itself. If I stuck in bits like this every chapter, I think it would be tacky and cheap and forced. But this chapter was perfect for it!
KLoves2Read: Definitely gross. Yech. But it gives just the right picture of exactly how pimply PimpleGuy is. May your trauma have already faded. =)
Lustrex: Cool, I'm glad it was refreshing! I toyed back and forth with whether to do Max POVs for this story at all, since we are looking at it from Fang's perspective, the glimpses into her situation don't directly help Fang and Dylan move forward, and I wanted to keep the mystery in tact from the reader's perspective. But then again, we're only seeing her because Dylan Saw her, and like you noticed, what's there to see, even from Max's perspective, isn't really elucidating. And it's a break from Fang's perspective, and it lets us know where Max is at, and allows me to attempt a little character development on her end, too. And OMG I didn't even think of Dylan seeing her in her pajamas/underwear, haha! Your previous comments made me edit this chapter to help explain how Dylan Saw her, but I didn't address the underwear bit. There are a couple of withholding pauses from Dylan, though, so read into those all you like.
Olivia and Bookworm33: Thank you, and thanks for reading!