Chapter Twenty-Six

Deleted chapter twenty-five and replaced it with a better one! Just FYI.

And I finished this at 11:42 pm the evening after I started this. 12:27. Argh, I hate clocks.

MaxRideRox-I'm thinking that he'll definitely come up again, but when, I don't know. I liked the new chapter better, two.

Maddy-glad you liked it so much!

Harry no. I'd do Ron-I agree, I have NO idea where all that came from, but nothing is ever gonna go farther than that and home videos are coming soon!

Rainie16-thank you! I should be sleeping now (12:27) but I know I won't be able to until I write something down, but hopefully I'll have an update by sometime tomorrow (or today? It's 12:27 am, but whatever, I'm on vacation)

So everybody! Two polls, I think, for when/if you review. Please review, that would be nice :D Write an idea for next few chapters. It can be anything, totally random (pancake eating contest?) or make sense. Either one.

12:29. Hehe. Least it's not 12:30. I hate any time ending in 30, probably cause on school nights I generally try to fall asleep before 10:30… Random. I'm probably on a lack-of-sleep high, but I can't sleep anyways…

And vote on whether you would like more POV's from an other character's perspective (Fang, Total, Dr. M, Ella, Gazzy, anyone, even the lowlife guy from Bertucci's.)

My mouth stretched into a yawn, which lasted a few seconds, and then I blinked a few times to clear the sleep from my eyes. It was another morning, apparently and either Iggy or mom was busy because something smelled fantastic. I stretched carefully, then rolled to the side of my bed-

A peep escaped my mouth as I rolled off whatever soft surface I was currently laying on and onto the floor, and immediately I kicked the blanket aside and staggered to my feet, ready to kill something.

Then I remembered.

Smart Max.

I had fallen asleep on the couch the night before, as had Fang on the armchair in the corner. I took a look at it now, but either Fang was sleeping invisible or he had gotten up, because I couldn't see anything. Granted, there were no sounds of breathing in the corner, and I heard soft voices in the direction of the delicious smelling food. I took a stumbled step forward, but forgot the coffee table was there and I fell again as I whammed my shin into it. Ugh. It was not looking out to be a bright day. The voices from the kitchen quieted until I heard Iggy ask oh-so-innocently,

"Did you just fall, Max?"

"No." I grumped quietly, knowing both boys could hear. "I walked into a coffee table. There's a difference." Rolling my eyes irritably, I walked into the kitchen.

"I heard you fall off the couch, though." Iggy continued as I collapsed onto a chair and dug my head in my hands. I chose to ignore him. And seriously thought about taking sleeping pills.

"What time is it?" I asked around a yawn.

"Seven."

"Why're you up?" I asked Fang, shooting him a look from across the table. There were shadows under his eyes, but other than that he just looked his typical expressionless self on an early morning.

"Heard Ig."

"And I," Iggy, also yawning, "am up because around one, Total got into an argument with Magnolia right next to my head. Then an hour later, he had gotten back into the house after I threw him out, quite literally, and he started to snore in my ear. Purposely. So I kicked him out this time and fixed the lock on the door, finally collapsing in bed around 2:30. Fang, pass the salt, will you?"

Fang did. Iggy yawned again and shook his head before flipping some eggs over and salting them.

"But he started howling, no idea how you all slept through it, half an hour later, so at three I let him back in. Then Magnolia started barking at him, so I put her out, which she was fine with until I fell back asleep and at 5:30 was woken up by Total writing a serenade for Akila and forgot that Magnolia was outside and so I made him go outside again. Then they got into a fight, Magnolia barking and Total yelling about how his treatment was degrading and that it was cruel and unjust for him to be 'subjected to the wrath of the night,' and I quote that."

I snickered, despite my closed eyes. "What next?"

"So then I got up and ran outside and started yelling at him and informing him that, in fact, he is a dog, and he can suck it up. Besides, what wrath is he gonna face that we haven't already?"

"A skunk."

"Nice call, Fang." Iggy managed a laugh, even though he looked ready to sleep in the frying pan. "Anyway, finally, I managed to shut him up by shutting him in the basement because it's still inside, and I fell asleep. Until he had to go outside for his doggy business and started barking my name. I ignored him until he found a dog whistle, which I apparently can hear. This was about forty-five minutes ago when Fang got up officially and just looked at Total, and he walked outside. Dude," Iggy flicked a sightless glance at Fang. "You so need to teach me how to do that."

Fang sighed heavily. "Need eye contact, sorry." Then he rubbed his eyes wearily and leaned his head in the edge of the table.

"Do you have a logical explanation for getting up before lunch, Max?" Iggy continued, filling some of the morning silence in the small kitchen.

"I fell off the couch. Reason enough?"

"Liar."

I was about to roll my eyes (you have no idea how many times I do that daily) but I was too tired. Yes, you heard me right, too tired to roll my eyes.

"Fine." I sighed, giving in. "I slept, but it was one of those exhausting sleeps like that stupid ballerina story where they sleep all day and dance all night so their dad has to buy them new ballet shoes each morning. Though I can't do a pirouette to save my life."

Iggy laughed quietly while I just saw the corner of Fang's mouth twitch.

"Same." He muttered. "But ballerinas…?"

"Angel asked me to read it to her back in that toy store in New York."

"Before or after she 'convinced' that lady to buy her Celeste?" Iggy asked innocently. I managed a croaking laugh.

"Before. 'Get off where the fun is.'"

Iggy turned on his heel to look in my general direction, Fang lifted his head. I sighed again, I had forgotten.

"Back when the Voice first showed up, that's what it told me." I closed my eyes and rested my head on my hands. "On the bus. Why we got off at the toy store of doom. Why you thought I had finally lost my crackers."

"Ah, we already knew that, Fangster and I," Iggy chuckled, "we didn't really need the confirmation."

Fang didn't bother to correct him. Even twitch in annoyance, just laid his head back down. I raised my head and cocked it to the side a little, thinking.

"Fang," I asked him. "Say something."

He opened his eyes slightly and looked at me, met my eyes, and blinked. Once. And closed them again.

Iggy rolled his eyes and turned the burner off, coming over to sit at the table and find out what was going on.

"Fang," I growled.

"Don't even start on your, 'as leader of the Flock' crap." Iggy interrupted before I could continue. "It never works, especially on him."

"It either works," Fang croaked quietly, "or it doesn't. No especiallys. Is this enough, Max?"

His voice did sounds off, rough. I bent over the table, a slight frown on my face, and placed my hand on his forehead before he could realize what I was doing. He jerked away as if stung, glared at me, then edged away.

"Fang," I coaxed him. "Let Iggy feel your forehead, you're really warm."

"It's Arizona." He protested weakly. "Of course," but then his voice broke off as he coughed violently. I whispered his name, and quickly moved over to rub his back while Iggy silently got up to get him a glass of water.

"Sheesh," Iggy placed his hand on Fang's forehead. "You are hot. Over a hundred, I'd guess."

"I do not have a fever." Fang protested, though it wasn't a very good protest. His voice was still quiet, but earlier I hadn't thought anything of it because if he says anything, he's always quiet in the mornings. Especially if he gets up at 6:30 or something. It was kind of pathetic how quickly we always fall off our normal sleeping schedule at mom's house, I mean, when had I ever slept until eleven not at mom's?

"Sure." Iggy nodded, pushing three loaded plates of eggs and bacon on the table and to each of us. "Just take some Tylenol or something for now. If you don't want Dr. M to start fussing over you when she comes down, I suggest we wolf these down and go be productive by watching one of those videos." Iggy continued between shoveled mouthfuls of eggs. I made like him and quickly inhaled all six bacon strips.

Fang nudged his food around on his plate with his fork, before getting up and pushing his plate into the fridge.

"Fang," I narrowed my eyes at him as he shut it. "At least have one piece. Please?"

He shook his head again, coughed, and gestured to the living room.

I rolled my eyes, dipping my last bit of egg in ketchup and taking a sip of water before clearing my plate. While Iggy scrubbed the frying pan and spatula, I walked into the bathroom and rifled through the medicine cabinet until I found the Tylenol, where I nearly had to force-feed Fang a double dose. High metabolism, remember? Then I got him a large glass of orange juice to swallow the heinous bubblegum flavor and we went to sit next to Iggy on the floor. Somehow, he had already located the appropriate video and had slid it in.

"I turned the volume down a ton." He informed us. "So we won't wake up the others." Because, for some reason, we were up before the younger Flock members, which was generally unheard of at mom's house. He pressed play.

But to my surprise, Jeb's voice overrode the static as the screen turned gray and crackly.

"Hi Max and company," he said. I growled. "If you're watching this, I just wanted to inform you that the movies that would previously have been made were destroyed in a lab accident, so this is almost three months after Max and Fang first met Iggy. I tried to recover the last ones, but to no avail. Hopefully you'll find something out anyway."

"Who does he think he is?" I muttered darkly, almost to myself. Iggy rolled his eyes, and Fang managed an irritated cough. I could count on one hand how many times Fang had gotten sick. At the School, they had either vaccinated us or left us to rot which built up our immune systems surprisingly well for some reason. I guess 'cause we generally didn't get vaccinated; so it was either, fend it off or sucks to be you. Plus that and the fact they we hated any medicine, taking Claritin was a huge step for those of us who grew up to hate anything to do with science, and that includes medicine. I laid my hand atop of his on the floor and waited for the screen to stop crackling.

Slowly but surely, the waves on the screen formed shapes, eventually becoming clearer, but the crackling only faded away to a harsh spitting and screeching, as yet another mutant was tossed into our room. Segregation must have been well over, because they sure didn't mind tossing a cat mutant into the room with us, even though she was strangely skinny with longer than average limbs. As her cage landed beside Fang's, skidding across the shelf, she bent her head back and yowled. Alley cat on the back fence yowl.

"Stripes!" Iggy exclaimed suddenly, twitching on my other side. I was seated in the living room between the two boys, so I could easily see how happy he was to again hear his old friend. I, too, felt a brief glimmer of warmth in my heart to see her again in all her spotted skin, whiskered human nose, cat eared grace. Even Fang looked up and had his eyes widen the slightest amount. For him that was an equivalent to Nudge's tirade of "Oh my God! I can't believe it! This is crazy, but at the same time, so freaking cool! I never expected to see her again!"

The four year olds looked through their bars closely at the strange creature. It was obvious she didn't have any wings, he shirt was tight against her back, and none of us had seen any malformations on her bare arms other than the line of spots trailing from her wrist to her shoulder. Then there was the tail, whipping back and forth irritably in the cage. Stripes, though we hadn't known her as that then, turned her head almost 180 degrees to look at us condescendingly, narrowing her almond-like eyes at the three four year olds. Finally, Iggy, blunt as always, just had to chip in.

"You have spots." His voice was slightly high with nerves, but he was curious all the same.

Stripes rolled her yellow eyes and rasped her tongue around her mouth. "Well noticed, bird kid." I had nearly forgotten how hissy her voice sounded, even when she wasn't angry. A constant sore throat seemed to take place with her, though she could still sound cold and distant, or warm and welcoming.

"It's Iggy."

Fang rolled his eyes and touched Iggy's knee, back in the living room. Smooth. He seemed to be saying. Quite sarcastically.

"And who are the other mutants?" She talked around us, though from the camera screen I could see how her eyes flicked back and forth from Fang, the closest threat, to me, hunched as close to Fang as possible.

Iggy shrugged. "Ask them."

Then you could see my mouth open, but Stripes spat at me before I could even say anything. She was a fast talker, not like Nudge, but her words left her mouth quickly and effortlessly, she never slipped up and had interrupted the three of us more than once. Well, maybe she had interrupted Fang once, but he didn't talk much so there wasn't much she could interrupt.

"Maybe," she sniffed once. "I don't care." Then she turned on her haunches and sat staring at the wall, taking Fang's previous place.

Iggy laughed as his younger counterpart pointed out, "well, you asked who they were, so obviously you care."

"I don't!" She spat, spinning around and leaning forward in a crouch. The strange light glinted off her claws, unsheathed.

I watched myself nudge Fang through the bars of the cage. "Quite the personality disorder," I heard myself murmur, "don't you think?"

"Bipolar." The four year old nodded.

"Quite the possibility-"

An unearthly hiss escaped Stripes throat, even as her throat convulsed in a snarl. "Aren't you quite the pair?" She asked. "Well, stay that way. I don't need friends." Again, Stripes growled a warning, and turned again to curl up, just like a cat, though I hadn't known it at the time, and stare at the wall.

She did so for so long I thought she would bore holes into the wall.

"FANG!"

I jumped as if tasered, falling into Fang's lap than all three of us standing in defensive positions, even as Nudge came hurtling down the stairs with Ella in tow. Dear God. I looked up at the ceiling, than relaxed slightly and pressed pause on the TV. Nudge and Ella appeared to be in the midst of a heated debate, about what, though, I was unaware.

I wished to remain that way, but alas, it was not to be.

"Fang, sorry to scare you guys, but you weren't in your room and I heard the TV on and me and Ella were talking, so I assumed you were awake. Anyway, I was reading a magazine, and Vanessa Hudgens said that there was only one shade of black. Then I was like, no. Epic failure. And Ella wasn't sure, but when we woke Gazzy up to ask, he agreed with her! And then we thought that of all people, you would know if there were different shades of black. Are there?"

Fang and I looked at each other; his eyes were sparkling as he turned back to them.

"Sure." He croaked, nodding. "Plenty." And then he fingered his black t-shirt as proof. I rolled my eyes, holding back a smile.

"You guys watching another video?" Ella asked, rubbing her eyes. "That's what it sounded like, though we weren't out of bed until we had to fix the Vanessa crisis. You should write about it in your blog, Fang."

Iggy nodded, settling back down, though deserting Fang and I for the couch, where he patted the cushion beside him. Ella plopped down, leaning back as if prepping for what she was going to see, and Nudge replaced Iggy on my other side. I pressed play, and we resumed watching the movie as if the 'Vanessa crisis' had never happened. I stifled a snicker, and pricked my ears.

My four-year-old mini, after a while, had edged closer towards Stripes. Finally, after maybe an hour (which we fast forwarded through), I plucked up the courage to clear my throat.

"Um, Felis catus girl?"

"It's Stripes, bird girl." Stripes didn't move from her position.

"Yeah, call me Max. You're probably getting uncomfortable, on your knees, sitting like that." I shifted in my cage as if to address my point. "Why don't you turn around?"

"So I don't have to look at you."

Even at four, I was losing my patience with the hardheaded Stripes.

"You still have to smell us, don't you?" I growled. "And you don't offer us much choice, plus I must say that I think any one of us is more interesting than that white brick."

There was a moment of silence, when Stripes let out a hiss that could have been irritation as much as laughter, and then turned to meet my eyes. I didn't flinch.

"Fair enough, Max." She shifted her hands underneath her, as any regular cat would curl up. "But there's not much you can do. We're in a cage, either way."

"Than at least we can enjoy ourselves." Little Max sighed, sitting back and looking at Fang before turning her eyes to the doorway. Stripes nodded her head once, and the faintest of smiles touched her lips.

*******

Welcome to Fang's Blog!

Visitor Number: A heck of a lot.

As your favorite black winged birdkid, I find it my duty to inform you of a serious crisis hitting today's media, brought to my attention by Nudge, who says 'hi.' Actually, she says a lot more than just 'hi' but I couldn't remember the rest of it. Anyway, she was reading a magazine at about 7:30 this morning, when I vital error came to her attention.

It would appear that Vanessa Hudgens believe that there is only one shade of black.

Ella suggested I inform you that this is not the case, nothing personal to Vanessa or anything.

So, just incase anyone was wondering, there is more than one shade of black.