So, I'm a terrible person who can't manage to keep up with school and activities and fanfiction. I know by now, my faithful readers have either begun to hate me or are politely and patiently waiting. I sincerely hope that the majority is the latter.

Thank you so much, you guys, for waiting. I love you all!

Max POV

Okay, so Professor Jordan had to be all mean and creeper-ish and stalk Iggy here and take him away, and now I don't know when-on-earth I'll ever be able to see him again, we're all probably gonna die soon, and to top it off I completely forgot to recite my wonderful poem while my whole flock was together. It had completely blown my mind… and it kind of sucks, because I need to recite it before Anne gives birth to Iggy's baby. You know, to give the guy a good memory, and a bit of moral support.

And then, after our Iggy was taken back to the-devil-alone-knows-where, the wonderful, tingly excitement pretty much left the room and we were back to sitting around in our cages, bored out of our skulls, and thinking of little else but death and impending doom.

I dwindled away the time by staring at Fang's face. That dude is growing a mustache.

Now, Fang's not the kind of guy who's going to have a beard in a couple of days, or even a slight five o' clock shadow… but after a few days without shaving, a wispy mustache was making itself known on his olive-toned upper lip. And gosh darn it, it was really bothering me.

I mean, maybe it wouldn't be so bad if it was thicker, or more shapely, or if it came along with some stubble. But I didn't really find wispy mustaches all that attractive, and he was starting to look like an awkward pre-pubescent teen, or some skinny Mexican kid (you know, I've always figured he might be Latino, or, like, Native American, what with his skin tone. It's not a bad thing).

"Why're you staring, Max?" Fang asked, meeting my gaze. He smirked. "Basking in my hotness?"

I stuffed my knuckle in my mouth to keep from laughing, trying to keep from staring at his upper lip. But, drat it all, that stupid wispy mustache was all I could look at.

"Actually," I started, thinking that maybe if I told him about how annoying I was finding his mustache he would get rid of it – I dunno, pluck the hairs out or something – but I trailed off in mid-thought. I had just realized that the stupid mustache quite resembled a pedo-'stache, so now when I looked at it all I could think was "Pedo-bear," and therefor Fang had been transformed from "hot boyfriend" to "Pedo-bear with creeper-'stache" in my head. The poor boy had no idea what had just taken place, nor the monumental effect it would have on our relationship during the couple months until he would be able to shave the stupid thing off.

I decided to take pity on the guy and not tell him that he had been mentally dubbed Creeper-'Stache/Pedo-Bear in my head. He had been exposed to far too much trauma for now.

"… Wanna kiss?" he asked hopefully, and I can only assume it was because he wanted to be distracted from the fact that he was wearing an unflattering dress and had a wispy mustache… or, you know, rather because he wanted to be distracted from the fact that his best friend was probably totally freaked out somewhere in this hell-house. Either or.

Gazzy shot us a disgusted look, Nudge appeared disdainful, and Angel was sleeping peacefully. I looked from them to Fang.

I was so not kissing that thing.

You know, the mustache, I mean. I wasn't calling Fang a 'thing.'

"I'm gonna go with no," I said, and Fang looked terribly downcast. "I mean," I hurriedly followed up, "You know, Gazzy would be totally grossed out. Plus, don't forget your best bro is all alone somewhere. We should probably think of him."

Fang thunked the back of his head against the bars of his cage.

"You don't have to remind me. My head's going kablooey thinking about him." He grimaced. "What the heck is that sadist doing to you, anyway? With the experiments? Those memory things you told me about?"

I twirled my knotted, greasy hair around my finger. "Just a bunch of crap, trying to make me feel guilty. Although Iggy has looked absolutely and utterly adorable in each of them."

"More adorable than me, definitely," Fang grinned. "Those wide blue eyes, right? The whole innocence thing about him."

"The unruly red hair probably had something to do with it," I agreed. "Plus, there was the whole fact that you and I were, like, totally torturing him. You know, it's funny how you never realize it when you're little, but little kids are totally adorable. Especially little crying kids, I think."

"What other memories do you think he's going to show you?" Nudge asked from her cage. I looked up to see her staring at us with fierce eyes. Hmm. My little girl's growing up; I could tell by the way she held herself. A lot more confident. More mature. "I mean, it can't just be a bunch of you guys at eleven. That's like watching home videos."

"Well, what else do you think he's going to show me?" I asked. "I mean, the subject's guilt right? So, what other things but my cruelty as a kid?"

"I was involved in it too," Fang said bitterly. "Don't act like you were the only mean one."

Gazzy seemed like he was trying to ignore the three of us, focusing on Angel's sleeping face. Yeah, the little girl didn't look all that adorable while she was sleeping. Her scrunched-up eyebrows gave me the impression that she was dreaming of kicking some bad-buy butt.

"Well, guilt," Nudge said. "I would think that the first two memories were sort of tester, right? Something just to make sure that it would work, and to find out what made your tear-ducts flow, you know?"

I shrugged and leaned against the front of my cage, straining my arm through the bars, it being just long enough to ruffle Gazzy's hair. "Keep your chin up, buddy," I whispered. "Sorry you're here. We should have left you and Ange with mom."

"Anyway," Nudge continued, trying to draw me back. She sounded very purposeful, like she had it all figured out. "After the first couple, he's going to start with the heavy torture. You know, lay on the guilt. So, what kind of memories would make you feel the most terrible?"

I stared at her and her fierce eyes. Her curly, corkscrew hair stuck out on either side of her head, nearly an afro, but heavy enough to weigh itself down. She was a gorgeous young lady, even with the greasy hair and rather unfashionable attire.

"I dunno," I said dumbly. "I mean, I don't really have any other terrible guilt-trip memories except for the same kind."

Nudge looked at me, hard. "Did Professor Jordan ever say that the only memories he could make you relive were your own?"

Gazzy sat back heavily against the bars of his cage and sighed, turning his face away from us. The empty cage where Meagan had been kept for those short few hours seemed lonely. Fang looked between Nudge and I with that cute little furrow that formed between his eyebrows whenever he was concerned or anxious. His Pedo-'Stache still stuck out like a sore thumb, though.

"No," I replied. "I mean, no, he never said that. But I sort of thought it was implied, you know?"

"Well," Nudge said, "He wouldn't have much leverage if it was only your memories he could make you live through. You know, there's probably a bunch of memories that would make you feel worse. Memories of some of the scientists, or from him, or Jeb, or maybe from Iggy, or even Anne."

Oh geez. Memories from other people. Dr. Evil was, like, a master of memory control. We'd witnessed enough to prove that. So, he could, in theory, give me someone else's memories. And oh, there was just so much that would work.

"So, I was thinking," Nudge said, frowning, "That there are a few memories that he'll probably give you."

"Yeah, and which are those?" Fang asked. Nudge extended her arms.

"I mean, they're obvious," Nudge said. "The kinds of memories that Max felt the worst about when she heard about them." She held up a hand and stuck up one finger. "Iggy cutting," she began listing. At each option she stated, she held up another finger. "The whole psychological-torture stuff with Professor Jordan when we were little. Iggy giving up stuff for us in the School. I'm doubtful about the sexual abuse, but it's possible. And, something that I think he'll definitely show you…" Nudge's expression darkened. "The stuff with Anne. You know, because it's related to our current circumstances." She put down her hands. "I think that will be pretty soon, too. He seems like someone who likes to be entertained, and I imagine that he'll have been wanting to show you that memory for a while."

The flock pretty much went silent after that, pondering. I tried my best to comfort Gazzy, but he was pretty bummed. I mean, we were all trapped, plus his best bud was off somewhere, plus Iggs was about to be a dad, and I'm sure Gazzy's going to become a bit jealous when that happens. You know, how I've heard older siblings are always jealous of the attention their younger brothers or sisters get.

I struggled to fall asleep; see, unfortunately, though the scientists kindly allowed us two meals and one bathroom break a day, my poor bladder just can't seem to run on that kind of schedule. I had to go. And then there was the worry over what memory he'd be showing me tomorrow, and what was going to happen to us, and what Iggy was going through… anyway, it sort of sucked.

However, I did, in fact, manage to fall asleep, and was woken up the next morning by an Eraser stomping his way to my cage and unlocking the barred door. It seemed to me that it was rather obvious what memory I would be shown today… goodness, I was not looking forward to it. But a worried look from Fang was all I got for morale support, because the other three were still sleeping.

I craned my neck to look through the windows as I was led to Professor Jordan's room, because I could faintly remember seeing a girl in one of those dream simulators, and now that I knew where Meagan was, I was sure it had been her. Unfortunately, I didn't catch a glimpse of anything, and before I knew it was back with Dr. Evil in his cold office, the door being slammed behind me as the Eraser walked away. My eyes were immediately drawn to the photograph on his desk of Strawberry Girl, but it had been placed face-down, so the picture wasn't visible.

"Welcome, Maximum," Professor Jordan smirked, spreading his arms. There was a glint of cold in his eyes that made me shiver.

"Skip the cold welcome," I said. "Let's get right to it. Memory time."

"As you wish," Professor Jordan mused, standing and gesturing for me to sit on the chair, bringing the machine over. "My, my, you seem rather eager today."

"I want to get it over with," I deadpanned, and Professor Jordan only smiled and placed the machine over my head, turning it on.

And there was, once again, the strange feeling of having all my senses stripped away and then returned in order.

My feet landed on fluffy carpet, and a sharp smell made itself obvious. It wasn't terribly bad, it wasn't even all that strong. It was sort of the smell of BO, mixed with something sour. I didn't like it much; it wasn't very appealing.

The room that I was noticing seemed stuffy, and the air was sort of heavy. It reminded me of the atmosphere in a bathroom after you've taken a shower.

This time, no one was talking, so there weren't any voices for me to register. But when my vision started to return, my stomach dropped into my feet. Why did Nudge have to be so… understanding? Why did she have to be right?

Anne's bed was rather large. The sheets had been pushed to the floor, the pillows somewhere beneath them. Iggy sat on the edge – thank goodness, he was wearing his pants – struggling to pull his shirt over his head. Once he had managed, I got a good look at his face.

Iggy's face was flushed, damp with sweat, his bangs plastered to his forehead. I noticed that his hands were shaking as they tugged the hem of his shirt down. His expression remained blank, as if he didn't really know how to filter or react to what he had just experienced.

"Out," Anne said in a voice that quivered, and I looked up to see her standing near the open doorway, a fuzzy bathrobe wrapped around her. Her face was red as well, sweat dampening her blond hair. Her finger shook as she pointed out the door.

Iggy looked lost as he looked up towards her voice. He struggled to stand; his knees were weak and shaky, and he looked as though his legs were made of jelly as he stumbled towards the door.

Looking at fourteen-year-old Iggy, I realized how much younger fourteen was than sixteen. Iggy didn't have any facial hair… not even the start of a wispy mustache. He was skinnier, he looked lankier and more awkward. His shoulders weren't as broad. He looked a lot more frightened.

I realized that this must be Anne's memory, because if it was Iggy's, then I wouldn't be able to see. I stared towards Anne with distaste, glaring at her nervous expression. She seemed to be gathering herself, taking a deep breath, clutching the front of her bathrobe tightly. She looked out into the hallway after Iggy, and in a moment started after him.

When I didn't automatically drift aimlessly behind her, I remembered that Professor Jordan hadn't given me a drug, and that I could move on my own. After the realization, I quickly followed, passing Anne and catching up with Iggy as he walked slowly down the hallway. I expected him to go into his room, but he stopped in front of my closed door.

I glanced behind me at Anne, who, like a creeper, was watching Iggy from down the hallway. Her face was hidden in shadow.

Iggy stood silently outside my room, his hand hovering above the doorknob. I silently encouraged him; go in, go in, talk to me… even though I knew that it hadn't happened, so it couldn't now.

Iggy seemed tormented, his eyes terrified, his breath quickening. And then he wrapped his hand around the doorknob, closed his eyes, steeled himself, and opened the door.

He stood in the doorway of my room. The room was chilly, and a breeze from the wide-open window stirred his hair. He looked stricken, sensing immediately that the room was empty. His knees knocked together. He walked weakly into the room to the open window and leaned out into the open air, staring towards the night sky.

"Max?" he said weakly, brokenly. I covered my mouth with my hand.

I was gone. I had been off exploring the cities with Fang when Iggy had needed me. I was probably in that old building, where we had found the picture of the baby Gasman. While Iggy needed comfort and support, I was off being an 'adult' with the only other flock member whom I had considered an 'adult.' I was a jerk.

"She's out," Anne said from the doorway. "She went off with Nick to do important things, because they don't think you're mature enough to be trusted with stuff like that."

Iggy's legs gave out and he sat on his knees, fingers clutching at the window frame.

"I'll… I'll t-tell her, what you… what…" Iggy broke off in a dry sob.

"You'll tell her what? Do you think… do you think that she'll honestly believe you over me? Which seems more plausible: That an adult woman r-raped a teenage boy, or that a perverted, horny fourteen-year-old boy forced an attractive woman into sex?" She took a shaky breath. "Honestly, your reputation in the flock pretty much speaks for itself. I'm sure Max would believe me over you if it came to that." Her expression fell. "I mean, she doesn't even think you're mature enough to go with her and Nick to explore."

Iggy buried his face in his arms and shook as he cried.

"She wouldn't… she… I'm her f-friend…"

"She wouldn't let you be alone with Ariel or Monique," Anne continued. "She'd probably not even want to be around you. Your whole family would shun you. Who knows… maybe they'd abandon you, like they've always w-wanted."

She sounded like she was reading from a script. She sounded hurt. Her voice was breaking, and tears flowed down her face. I hadn't thought of the fact that maybe she had been forced into it, too.

"B-but, we all… we all… we all love each other…" Iggy sounded doubtful, like he didn't even believe himself.

"What would they think," Anne said, "If they found out that you'd..? What would Max think? She'd be disgusted… angry… disappointed…"

"They'd h-hate me," Iggy sobbed. "Max would… she wouldn't…"

"She wouldn't understand, and she wouldn't believe you," continued Anne. "I can be… very convincing, when I want to. If you even think about telling her, I'll reach her first. And then let's see who she gets mad at."

Iggy sniffed and began nervously picking at the hem of his sleeves, tapping his thigh with his fingers. His nervous tics.

"And you… you couldn't say you didn't enjoy it," Anne whispered. "You couldn't argue that. If you hadn't liked it, you couldn't have…" she broke off, looking embarrassed. Iggy took a shuddering breath, pulling his legs together.

"I didn't… I t-tried not to…"

"So," Anne finished. "Don't… don't tell. It won't matter, nothing will change… except maybe for the worst."

Iggy stood, his legs shaking almost too much for him to walk. He turned and walked out of the room, covering his eyes with the back of his arm, struggling to stop crying. Anne let him pass, looking horrible, guilty, sad. She didn't let him notice the tears on her cheeks, just watched him leave. I followed him out of the room, watched him go across the hallway to his own room, fall into his bed, and hug his pillow to his chest.

"I suck," he muttered brokenly, turning to the wall. Anne watched him for a moment before closing the door behind him. I stood in the hall, watching her lean against Iggy's door, looking like she was about to break down. But she didn't; she just shut the door to my room and made her way back to her own.

I came to my senses once again in Professor Jordan's office. He was looking at me with that sardonic expression of his; like, You think I'm the sadist? Who was the one being the jerk in that memory?

"Screw you," I hissed with venom in my voice. "Screw you to freaking hell, you absolute prick."

"Oh, I have no doubt I'll be going there eventually," was his reply. "But why not enjoy the way down?"

I responded by spitting in his face. He retorted with a smirk, and ordered an Eraser to "Take me to the place where the rest of my pitiful flock was taken. I needed to be taught a lesson."

Thank you guys so much for the wait. I tried to make this chapter extra-long for your sake… I couldn't keep you waiting all that time for a thousand-and-something-word chapter, could I?