A/N: Too excited to sit on this one. If you haven't reviewed for last chapter, GO BACK AND DO THAT.

GUYS, I have another crazy idea. Should I double down and just commit to making this story straight crazy—or should I tame it and maybe just save the other idea for a separate story? I will not update until I get feedback on this question; I really need help with the direction of the story. Crazy or crazy?

Finish this chapter and THEN tell me if you want it to go crazier.

Warning for language and just overall adult content.

Disclaimer: James Patterson owns the Maximum Ride characters and all recognizable canon info.

M

"Should we be worried? About…Friday?"

I blush at myself in the mirror, mouth full of toothpaste. It's Sunday morning, our last day together before the new week, and I'm honestly surprised he hasn't brought it up until now.

I lock eyes with Fang through the mirror, feeling very on fire. He's talking about our time in the cave on Friday…when we'd…

You know.

It worked, as far as I know. As well as pulling out ever works. Not sure there are any solid numbers on that one. I feel my cheeks grow hotter, feeling both embarrassed and nervous. What do I even say here?

I stick my toothbrush back into my mouth and finish brushing, leaning forward finally to spit in the sink. I flick the faucet on and say, "It probably wasn't smart, but I don't think we need to worry."

He just crosses his arms. "What does that mean?"

I sigh, dropping my toothbrush into the holder. "Well, you did it on time, didn't you?"

He glares at me. "What is going on?"

I throw my hands up, trying not to let my frustration get the best of me. I curl my fingers into fists and lower my hands to my sides. "What are you asking me? How much do I tell you?"

"Just, answer the question," he says lowly. "Can we have kids?"

"I don't know."

His mouth tightens. "Did you find any evidence that says we can't?"

I glare up at him. "There's just this…one note. I can't believe this, Fang—really?" He continues staring at me, unwavering, so I huff and continue quickly, "Jeb noted that I 'lost all reproductive functions.' That's all it says. We haven't found any official documents on it yet."

I don't even know how to decode his face after that revelation. I try, but I fail, and he's got a wall up almost immediately. I frown up at him, unable to vocalize my frustrations, angry now that he made me tell him. His eyebrows finally move, knitting together in confusion.

"So, should we worry?"

I shake my head, hugging myself a little. "No. We're not going to do that again—" I glance up at him a moment, "but I'm not worried. Besides, my body is way too stressed to be thinking about making babies."

He shrugs, looking at me unsure. "You never know."

I scoff. "Okay, fine. What do you want me to do? Get the pill?"

He just looks at me.

"Would that even work?" I ask him seriously.

"You tell me."

"We haven't found anything about our reproductive systems, yet. Nothing but that note about me. We have more evidence we need to go through, but… Fang, listen. This is the kind of stuff we're finding. It's getting harder and harder to keep it secret already."

He's still watching me, and his gaze turns sorrowful. He cups my face with his hands, moving close.

"I'm sorry. Do you believe Jeb's note?"

I close my eyes, tight. "It doesn't sound impossible. But… we don't know the whole story yet. Iggy wants to see real documentation first, he says…I don't know, maybe he just says that for me." I open my eyes to look up at him miserably. "I shouldn't have ever asked you to do…that. I don't…know what came over me."

He grins quickly, and I regret wording it that way for a moment. He brushes his thumb on my cheek, falling serious again. "I'll go to the pharmacy after breakfast."

I sigh. "Okay."

He nods. He drops a gentle kiss across my forehead and moves out of the bathroom, heading downstairs. I stop him, without considering.

"Do you remember my eleventh birthday?"

Fang spins on me, looking thrown by the question. I wait, and he considers it before saying, "This about the coin?"

I catch his gaze, holding it urgently. "So, you remember? Going to the canyon, finding the old coin? The chocolate cake?"

"Yeah…why?"

I sigh. "It's nothing. I just…nothing."

He nods at me, taking another moment to watch me before heading downstairs. I have no idea where this leaves us—on the case, or my agreement to tell him nothing. I look at myself in the mirror with disdain. I broke one of the rules, Angel is bound to be pissed.

I go downstairs, spotting everyone but Iggy there already. Angel looks up at me knowingly, frowning.

Are you okay?

I sigh, plopping down into the chair next to her at the table. It's better than what I expected her to say, which is that I broke a rule by telling him, and she is very disappointed. I glance over at her and she's chewing a bite of her cereal. She blinks at me.

"I have no idea anymore," I answer honestly. She looks at me, very worried now, not hiding it at all. It's not often I drop the mask completely, definitely not for Angel. But with this, my options are limited, and fuck—she's asking.

"Nudge is making plans with Dean," she says quietly. I look over to see Nudge typing wildly on her phone, grinning absently. I look back at Angel. She continues, "As long as Fang and Gaz don't mind…"

I pull in a deep breath, nodding. "Time to get to it."

She pats my hand comfortingly. "It'll be okay."

I nod, smiling tightly at her. Iggy is just coming inside from his morning smoke, pulling his coat off and dropping it on an empty chair at the table. He turns and feels for the buttons on the security system, triggering the telltale beep.

"Good morning," he says airily. "How's everyone's cereal?"

Gazzy grins, looking up from his bowl of corn flakes. "No regrets, man. Dinner last night was perfection."

Angel scrunches her nose. "I hope it was, from the way you destroyed the bathroom."

Gazzy waves her off. "You say that like you don't know me. Speaking of, I need to go to the store and buy some… bathroom aids?"

Iggy snickers. "That's what you went with?"

Nudge even looks up from her phone, also giggling. "Bathroom aids, Gazzy?"

The Gasman has the decency to blush, saved only by Fang's nonchalant, "I can get you whatever you need, I'm going to the pharmacy."

Gazzy perks up immediately. "I'll go with you."

I shake my head urgently, catching Fang's eye. Fang frowns, looking back at Gazzy. "Just tell me what you need."

Gazzy glances around, blushing still and looking sheepish. "Fang… it's personal."

Fang rolls his eyes, landing back to me. I shake my head again, begging him. He makes a face at me over Gazzy's head, like, It's just Gazzy.

Gazzy truly is the least nosy of the rest of the Flock when it comes to my business—or, more specifically, mine and Fang's business. But that doesn't mean he kindly passes up a blatant opportunity for gossip and torment. Especially if he sees what Fang's reason for going to the pharmacy is.

Fang relents anyways, giving me another look before saying, "Fine. Come on."

Gazzy scoffs, gesturing to his unfinished bowl. "Let me finish my cereal!"

Fang rolls his eyes, taking another drink of his coffee. Nudge suddenly stops on her phone, clicking the screen off and looking up brightly.

"I'm going to see Dean for brunch, then we're going to the new exhibit at the art museum."

I nod along with her excitement, providing what I hope is a convincing smile, but the boys aren't so nice. Iggy squeals mockingly, clasping his hands together in front of him and batting his eyelashes.

"He can drive and he likes art?"

Gazzy snorts. "I have a feeling Dean likes…whatever Nudge likes."

They laugh enthusiastically, never once acknowledging Nudge's displeasure with their display. Gazzy giggles a bit more and adds, in what I'm assuming is a breathy rendition of Dean's voice, "Yes, I love art exhibits. Please, Nudge, I want you….to take me to an art exhibit."

"Shut up," Nudge insists, gripping the counter. "I swear. Can't we go back to just making fun of Max and Fang? Or we can take a shot at Iggy and his unrequited love for Ella? No one ever talks about that one!"

Iggy frowns, shoulders and wings drooping. "I don't like this game."

Fang pats him solemnly on the shoulder.

"I'm not sure you can call it unrequited, considering she has no idea you like her," Angel says confidently, still eating her cereal.

Iggy is bright red when I look at him again. Nudge chuckles, maybe deciding she's wrecked enough chaos, and says, "Anyways, I'll be back before you leave, Fang. When are you planning to leave?"

He shrugs. "Tonight."

She nods. "Well, don't leave until I'm back. He'll be here soon to get me. I should be back before dinner."

With that and a bright smile my way, she goes back to her phone. I turn to look back at Angel, who is still smiling at me knowingly. Here we've magically found ourselves in the perfect conditions she'd mentioned. Looks like we have no excuse but to get in there.

Alana texted me twice yesterday—once to ask simply how I was doing, and once to ask if we'd seen the evidence yet. I haven't answered her. I have no idea what to tell her yet.

After another thirty minutes of morning shenanigans, Nudge gets picked up and Fang and Gazzy leave for the pharmacy. Angel and Iggy are immediately out of their seats and heading to the office the moment the front door closes. I sigh, checking the security system before following them in. They're sitting on either side of the office chair that's waiting for me. Two computers are on the desk and powered on, casting a blue glow on their faces.

I sit between them, sighing. They're taking a backseat for a second, while I decide if we will dive into my procedure documents or something else. I frown, looking for a folder with the procedure name, steeling myself for whatever we find.

No matter what, it doesn't change who I am. We will be okay. No matter what.

I find one separate folder, labeled with the same coding as the procedure mentioned in the note. I gulp, opening the file. There's a large video file and multiple documents. I motion to the other laptop, glancing at Angel.

"You start going through the documents for the procedure. Iggy and I will start the video," I say quietly.

Angel reaches for the laptop next to the one I'm using, pulling up the same file. She clicks on the first document listed, simply called Procedure X30067M: Summary. She pulls in a long breath, looking up at me once before diving into the reading. I finally get the video file downloaded and the screen fills with a security camera-angle shot of one of the rooms in the hidden lab beneath the house.

Iggy reaches to dial up the volume on the speaker and I sit back in my chair, eyes scanning the scene before me. I see Jeb, in the corner of the room, preparing something in a needle and talking aloud to the recorder on the table beside him. He's listing the chemicals involved in whatever he's got in the needle.

I'm completely passed out on the lab table behind him. It's bizarre, to say the least. Seeing myself in any of these videos. Remembering absolutely none of it. Not going down there, not any of the experiments, and not waking up after. The videos never show any of us entering or exiting. Our main theory is that Jeb did this mostly in the middle of the night, probably drugging us.

I start lowly explaining to Iggy what I see, trying not to talk over Jeb too much. He rattles off the date and time of recording—the night of my eleventh birthday. He mentions quickly the success of "implemental testing of the duplication" already, and I pause the video, grabbing my notebook. I flip to my current page, rewind, and say, "Sorry, let me write this down."

Iggy nods, leaning against the desk and listening closely. I replay Jeb's comment.

"Today was the first successful night of implemental testing of the duplication. Almost twelve hours of exposure with no issue. Max is subdued—she's been preparing for the procedure all day."

All day.

But…my eleventh birthday. I remember it so clearly, God—it feels like my first real, happy memory of living at the house. Of Fang—just me and Fang.

Almost exactly while I'm thinking this, Jeb continues, "Max and Fang's relationship has progressed uninterruptedly." He stops where he is, sorting utensils next to me in the video, wringing his hands for a moment thoughtfully. "Opportunity there for longer intervals without Max. She could easily be brought to the School…"

He trails off. I blink, looking over at Iggy, eyes wide. Angel is watching, too, more than she's reading the document before her. The three of us watch on, listening in horror as Jeb mutters short reminders like this. Eerie, but nothing telling so far. My skin feels cold and electrified.

He's listing off doses as he preps me, limp and unresponsive on the metal operating table. It's deathly silent in the video for a while, so I continue explaining what we see, until suddenly, one of the machine's my body is hooked up to starts beeping erratically.

"What's happening?"

"I don't know," I hiss back. Jeb looks surprised, leaning over to read the machine. He scratches his head, looking down at the needle he's just injected to my IV.

"She's not responding correctly," he narrates aloud, but doesn't elaborate. He seems to move more hurriedly, now, preparing an entirely new dose of medicine or something.

"He messed up," I say weakly, watching the screen with disbelief. We watch him scramble, moving to inject the new dose, letting the empty syringe clatter to the try beside him when he's finished.

He checks his watch. Reads an update on the time; it's nearly nine o'clock at night. You'd never know—the whole room is bright and completely lit up. The video quality is not perfect, but adequate. The machine continues to beep. Jeb suddenly reaches for a new contraption.

"Max is not responding correctly and has not regained consciousness in ten hours. Her vitals are fine. No reflexes. X-rays and initial scans reveal she's lost all reproductive functions…" I see him throw open a notebook, scribbling with a pen the exact note I've been reading over and over. It's surreal to watch him write it.

Suddenly, a new alarm starts droning. Jeb's face drops, and he rushes to my side.

In real life, I swallow, folding my hands together and resting my mouth on them, leaning forward to watch the screen silently. Angel takes over for me, quietly explaining any visual details to Iggy in a hushed tone.

Jeb reaches for my vital signs on multiple machines at once, wildly, muttering, "It can't be…"

He looks once more at the vials he'd use to fill my doses, flipping through his notes on the clipboard, seeming to panic a bit.

He spins finally and begins administering chest compressions. He says gravely, "The procedure has failed. Attempting to salvage—may need to proceed with Section 20C."

I look across the desk for the file, finding it and reading Jeb's chicken scratch for myself. Precautions listed in section 20C are being followed.

He hasn't written it yet on screen, but he will. Because he won't be able to salvage.

Angel and Iggy are completely silent. I watch the screen in horror, somehow already knowing what is happening. Refusing it to be true. Scrambling for what it means.

"This…makes no sense," I say softly. "My birthday."

No one answers me. I think about what I told myself, before opening this file and erasing everything I ever knew. No matter what, it doesn't change who I am.

Well, that is just not true, apparently.

Because right now, on this dingy laptop screen, I watch myself flatline on a table in the basement of the E house.

And die.

The droning sound of the alarm is the only constant, along with Angel and Iggy's frozen expressions. Neither one of them has caught up yet. My mind is racing, while stumbling over what all of this means, still wondering about a missing piece.

"But…how could you die?" Iggy mumbles fervently. "What did he say, earlier? That you rewound to write down? Duplication?"

I reach for the second computer open to the summary document, ignoring Iggy. I quickly click the shortcut keys to open a search in the document (Nudge would be proud of me if she knew how good I'd gotten with shortcuts since we'd dove into the evidence) and search for section 20C.

The screen loads, scrolling down to a deeper section of the document. I see the heading Section 20C highlighted at the top. I scan the document, trying to comprehend the words I'm reading. I scan it multiple times. It still doesn't click. It makes no sense. Memory implantation and…duplication. A complete duplication of Max—of me, a clone, like Max II— at eleven, with the same memories and morals. Apparently. Tested for compatibility with the Flock.

Today was the first successful night of implemental testing of the duplication. Almost twelve hours of exposure with no issue.

My stomach rolls dangerously.

Angel is in my mind, I assume, because she finally breaks her own shocked silence to say, "Max, no…"

It doesn't matter, it's too late. I've pieced it together, and it's much worse than I imagined.

I am going to throw up. I am going to die. I feel my entire being unraveling. Who am I?

What am I?

I choke on a dry sob, still in shock, standing and stumbling to the door. Iggy has said nothing else, currently rewinding the video with the keys to answer his own question. I move blindly through the house, still empty and silent. I ignore Angel's cry for me.

I swipe my coat and my mostly-empty pack by the door, throwing it open and flying out. I don't even stop to set the security. I'm sure she'll try to follow me. I don't dare take even a second of waiting or thinking—I refuse to think until my feet are back on the ground.

With that, I take off, throwing myself into the air and granting myself permission to finally start bawling. I pour on my super speed, feeling my breath catch as I take off through the air aimlessly, closing my eyes and curling my fists. Only when I'm high above the clouds and miles away do I let out a long, broken scream.

Fuck.