Lalala! I'm back! Sorry to keep you guys waiting for so long, but I had the three of the most stressful, fun, crazy weeks of my life. (Long story. If you actually give a shizz, PM me.) I would've updated sooner, but I've been super busy, what with a new story (Okay, it's not actually a story, it's just random discussions, but it takes time to write too!) and a new blog and a new science project that I have to work on (BLEGH!), I just never had time to write. Oh, and just because some of you asked: This story DOES have a plot. I know where it's going, so don't worry, it won't turn into some maniacal tale that doesn't make any sense. And… I have a question: How the hell do you link stuff onto your profile? Like, if it says MY BLOG and you click on it, it takes you to my blog. Can someone with more experience please help? (I think I'm gonna throw this laptop out of the window soon if I don't figure all this crap out!)

Alexandra's P.O.V.

I blinked and tried to sit up. My head was throbbing; my eyes stung. Three freaked-out Fangs were swimming in my vision. I groaned, holding my head with my right hand while trying to support my aching body with my left.

"What just happened?" I asked, wincing at the pain that the simple movement of my cheek muscles brought.

"Why don't you tell me?" Fang responded, helping me up. "What the hell did they do to you?"

"I—I can't remember," I said slowly. It was the truth; I couldn't remember a single thing that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. "Uh, Fang?" I asked, touching my hand to the back of my head. My fingers were instantly covered in this sticky stuff. "Why is there dried blood on my head?"

"I don't know," Fang replied, still looking super-spooked. He backed away slowly, as if I was contagious and he didn't want whatever it was that I had.

"What's wrong with you?" I asked, staggering towards him. "You look like you've seen a ghost or something."

"Alex, don't you remember anything?" he asked unbelievingly.

"No."

"Nothing at all?"

"Nope. Nada."

"You were talking to someone," he said. "You mentioned her name—Sylvia. You said you'd never forget her or something. You don't remember any of that?"

Now that he brought it up… I kind of did remember. Snippets of a conversation with someone flashed through my head.

"Going to power you down…data erased…won't be able to track you…no access to your records…make it look like you died."

I blinked rapidly. Sylvia had done that?

"Are you sure you're ok—"Fang started, but I interrupted him, holding a hand up.

"Hush. I'm thinking."

Believe it or not, Fang's mouth clamped shut and he looked at me interestedly. This was a remarkable development: Fang was actually listening to me now.

I squeezed my eyes shut and sorted through my memories. (It's quite possible; I do it on a daily basis. It helps me remember things.) There weren't a lot of them, considering that I'd only lived for about eight or nine days. Most of them were of Fang, and the rest of them were of me back at the lab with Dr. O'Ryan, the head, Sylvia. The thought of Sylvia brought everything back—every second of what had happened. I tried to stifle a gasp. I turned to Fang, my eyes burning.

"The tech back at the lab helped me! She was the one who did all of this! Nobody knows where I am anymore! No one's in my head!"

"Okay, so that's a good thing, isn't it?" he inquired.

"No!" I said frantically. Didn't he get it?
"They'll do something to her—the tech! They'll kill her! They'll torture her for helping me!"

"Look," Fang said, placing his hands on my shoulders and looking steadily into my eyes. "I understand that you're scared and you feel bad, but there's nothing you can do. It was her choice to help you, and what happened has already happened. You can't change that."

What was wrong with him? Didn't he care if an innocent person died for doing something so noble?

I pushed him back and he staggered.

"We can't just let her die!" I shouted, giving him my best death glare.

"Well, what do you want me to do about it?" he yelled back, just as furious.

No, he obviously did not get it.

"Don't you see that letting something like this happen makes you as evil as all those scientists back at The School? It makes you as heartless as all of the Erasers and Flyboys you've finished off! It makes you as stupid and sightless as the bad people in your life—the ones that have tried to kill you!"

I stopped to wipe a tear and noticed that I was crying. I took in a deep breath and tried to control myself; tried to stop the shaking of my fingers. "Tell me Fang: Did all of the people sent out to kill you have a reason? Did they want to kill you because you did something? No, just because you existed. When someone throws rocks at you, the best solution is not to throw rocks back at them! You can't let your past make you a bad person! You can't let all of the things that happened to you make your heart shrivel and turn ice cold! No matter how bad your life may seem, there are always good things that should cheer you up!"

I stopped once again for some air, and Fang seized the opportunity to talk.

"Tell me one good thing about my life right now," he snarled. He wasn't angry at me, he was just infuriated—at life, at the stupid scientists that kept him and the Flock constantly on the run, and even though he wouldn't admit it, he was tired. Tired of being a freak, tired of running, tired of living a life that didn't have a point.

"You're still alive," I shot back. "You don't have some kind of illness; nobody's chasing you—at the moment—and you've still got me."

Okay, I know this looks bad, but I didn't mean it that way. Obviously Fang didn't think so either because he didn't react strongly as he usually would. Instead, he sat down on the floor; his legs crossed, his hands supporting his body, and looked up at me.

"Okay, so I don't have a reason to be emo, thank you very much for pointing that out, but I still don't see why you're not depressed and crying in your little corner. You said there were no mutants, so I don't know what I'll do, and you don't have anywhere to go, so we're basically two teenage kids without a home- or a mission- wandering around in Houston. What's so awesome about that?"

"Well," I said slowly. "I kinda lied. About the mutant thing?"

Fang leaned in, his brow furrowing. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I lied when I said that there were no mutants."

"Why?"

"I dunno. I was angry, sad, miserable, and the last thing I needed was for you to leave me to go looking for some mutants. If you haven't noticed, I don't have anyone else besides you."

"So, where are these mutants?" he asked.

"I… I don't know. Sylvia—the tech deactivated the chip, so I can't remember. Everything's so blurry."

"I don't get it," Fang said, stroking his chin, a faraway look in his eyes. "Just because they deactivated it doesn't mean it's still not in your memories. How is it that you can't remember?"

I shrugged. "Beats me. Maybe I just need some rest."

I looked at Fang for a long time. He was dirty, tired, and he reeked.

"When was the last time you showered?" I asked, wrinkling my nose.

He opened his mouth to answer but I stopped him.

"Wait, don't even answer that. I don't wanna know. Come on, let's get you cleaned up." I took him by his hand and helped him get up on his feet.

"Where are we going?" he wanted to know.

"To a hotel."

So, I made a blog: www (dot) nsays (dot) tumblr (dot) com. It'll probably get pretty interesting. Thank you to all of you who have waited so long and reviewed!

Special shout-out to Triggerhappy44, because her review made me LOL and feel all fuzzy inside:

Now, I will actually legit throw cuccumbers at you if you don't continue the story.

This story is AMAZING. As close to perfect as you can get without being like dylan (who doesn't deserve capitals)

:)Triggerhappy44

P.S. I like Alex, and the (Slyvia? was that her name?) tech.

-The Winged Wonder-