A/N

Hello! Are you guys impressed at the rate I'm updating this story? I can't really believe it myself considering I usually go months between chapters. Hopefully I'll be able to keep it up.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed and especially to those who shared their thoughts on the MR fandom shrinkage. Special thanks to Bloodlust003, DontCallMeMaxi, The Flower Bookworm, BaconBabe77, LydsLife, Gazza, TheArrowess, Chronicyouth2002, Iamthebestwriter, staphylococci and the few unnamed guests who shared their thoughts.

Now for anyone who is reading this having previously read one of my other stories How to Seduce the Flock I have a question: Should I finish it? Frankly, I think it's a really stupid story (kind of gross too) and my writing skills back then were nonexistent but I still get messages telling me to update. If that's what people want I will but I NEED TO KNOW WHAT PEOPLE WANT. I've always had an idea for the ending but it obviously hasn't panned out yet and I feel really guilty about leaving it the way it is. I was thinking of going through and fixing it up as well but I don't know. What should I do?

Happy reading!

Chapter 4: Diner Discussions

"Iggy?"

It was a whisper, barely audible but he had heard it. I knew he had by the way every one of his muscles stiffened.

"May…" He tried, voice cracking. "Maybe. Who's asking?" He looked guarded and had pushed one leg back in what would appear like (to anyone else) nothing unusual but was really a fighting stance.

"Someone who hasn't had your p-pasta in a long time." My voice splintered. Damn. The heavens opened up and a few drops of water dripped down from the clouds onto my white shirt. I allowed a few tears to follow the rains example in sliding down my cheeks.

This was sooooo not going the way I'd hoped.

Iggy's crossed arms dropped to his side and his hands balled into fists. It was quiet for a few seconds, then, so quietly that if I didn't have genetically enhanced hearing I probably wouldn't have even have caught it, he said, "Come here."

Robotically, I shuffled closer. I begged my knees not give out and buckle as I did so. When I was within arm's reach, Iggy extended his hand and stroked his thumb down my cheek. I shivered involuntarily at his touch. His hand went on to search the rest of my face, cataloging every inch carefully. Eventually, his hand brushed over my hair which was pulled back into a ponytail.

I could see tears welling up in his sightless eyes. "….Max?" He asked.

I broke then. Crying softly, I nodded. He felt the movement, his hand still resting gently on my scalp.

It was silent except for my crying as Iggy processed what was happening.

I expected him to push me away. I expected him to turn and run. Or to slap me across the face. Or to yell obscenities at me. I expected all those responses.

I didn't expect him to pull me into a hug, bury his face in my shoulder and start to cry in time with my own sobs.

I grabbed him to me, as tightly as I could. I smelled his familiar scent and started to cry harder at the enormity of it all. Of all the feelings in the world, I doubted there was any more powerful than the emotion you feel when you hold brother to your chest after years of being unable to.

The rain came down harder and began to pelt us with heavy droplets but neither of us moved nor cared. I was happy to just hold him. Eventually, when I was sure my shirt was basically see through, we pulled apart.

"I can't believe it's you." He shook his head and grinned a classic Iggy grin. My heart soared happily to be able to witness it again. "I can't believe you're here."

"Neither can I."

"You have to come with me. You have to see the flock." It was silent, except for the rain pounding the pavement. "Max?"

"I don't think I can right now, Iggy." His face fell. "Can we go somewhere to talk?" He looked torn.

"I should tell them. It's not right not to tell them. They think you're dead, you know." The rain was so heavy now, he was basically yelling. "Fang…" My heart clenched. "Fang almost lost it without you… you…. Where have you been?"

"Let's go somewhere….. please, Iggy."

He looked reluctant but nodded. He turned slowly and indicated with his head for me to follow. I walked next to him, bumping his shoulder occasionally. The smile returned to his face as he bumped me back.

Iggy led me to diner about three blocks away. It's red and white façade screamed fifties design and, sure enough, it had a retro interior complete with checkered black and white floor tile.

Iggy and I were both drenched, our clothes sticking to our skin. When we finally squelched into a booth, I pulled my skirt away from knees, creating a suction cap sound that sounded suspiciously like something else.

"Gross, Max. We're in public." Iggy said smirking.

"Fuck off, it was my skirt."

"Suuuuure it was," Iggy chuckling. A second later he seemed to do a double take. He's mouth morphed into what I assumed was a perplexed expression. "Your skirt?"

I blushed. "Yes. My skirt. Got a problem with that, buddy?" I squinted my eyes at him.

Iggy held his hands up defensively, "No, no. It's just not something I can picture you wearing."

"Yeah, well, don't picture it. Okay?" He laughed again.

After Iggy's laughter subsided, silence descended thickly upon us. During the lapse in conversation, I checked to make sure my blouse wasn't see through after standing in the rain for so long and Iggy flicked the water out of his hair. Eventually, once we had both finished fiddling, Iggy asked the question I had been dreading. "What happened to you, Max?"

I sighed, "It's complicated."

Iggy stared in the direction of where he assumed my eyes were (he was slightly too far left) and waited for me to expand on my answer. When I didn't he said, "We thought you were dead."

The look of hurt that flashed across his face pierced me like a knife. "I'm sorry," Was all I could reply.

He shook his head, "Look, you don't have to tell me right now but you do have to tell us eventually."

"I know." I played with the peeling edge of the laminated menu which had been placed on the table by a candy striper style waitress. "I just don't know how to explain it all... Frankly, I'm... I'm scared." I admitted. I figured showing him some venerability may soften his resolve a little.

It did.

"I get it." He reached out and took my hand (in a brotherly way, you sickos). "Why don't you want to see them?"

I curled my fingers around Iggy's long ones gently, "I don't know….. I guess I don't want them to hate me."

"They won't. They'll be happy to see you." I said nothing. After a pause, Iggy said, "Let me call Fan –"

"No!" I interpreted. My heart rate had jack-knifed. The rush of blood to my head defend me briefly.

"Max…" Iggy started.

"No, Iggy! He hates me! How could he not hate me….? I hate me." I finished quietly.

"He really doesn't hate you. Not at all. Look, all he's really done for the last three years is mourn over you. He's going to be happy you're okay. I've got to call him, Max. If no one else, I've got to call him. He deserves to know." I pulled my hand out of his, angrily. Stupid Iggy. Pfffft, what would he know? "He still loves you, you know." He followed, very quietly.

I looked away from him, knowing that I might start to cry.

Well, okay, maybe he knows some stuff…

Iggy got up, pulling his phone from his jacket pocket. I was secretly hoping that the rain had damaged it and that it didn't work anymore. I was very sorry to see my wish had been granted when the screen lit up. I glanced at my duffle bag, wondering if I should leave.

Before I could make up my mind, Iggy had placed his hand on my shoulder. "Stay, Max….. please." It was almost as if he had read my mind. As soon as I heard the open, helpless tone of voice he used, I knew I wasn't leaving. I couldn't leave him again. Maybe not ever. I let my head fall forwards to bang on the linoleum table. Iggy made no comment about the sound of skull on table but his hand left my shoulder and he walked across the diner to call Fan– HIM.

I closed my eyes and pretended that I couldn't hear the call tone of Iggy's phone half way across the diner even though I could make it out as clearly as if he was standing right next to me.

"Iggy?" A deep voice asked upon answering. My stomach turned over. He sounded older. Which, der Max, of course, he did; he was older. He had grown up and I had missed it.

"Hey, man. I need you to get down to the diner on Elizabeth street, like right away."

I started to panic. I couldn't do this. I couldn't. I can't see him again, not like this.

"Can this wait? I'm sort of in the middle of someth-"

Look at what I'm wearing! He's going to ask questions! He's going to see straight through me like he always did before and I'll be trapped. What will I even say to him?! "Hey, Fang! Remember me, Max? We kinda-sorta had a thing until I left you. Yeah? That was me!" Ugh. Stupid!

I began to bang my head on the table. I could feel the stares from people at other tables who had leaned over the top of their booths to see the source of the rattling cutlery (ie. moi).

"No," Iggy interrupted. "This absolutely cannot wait." He must have heard the seriousness in Iggy's tone of voice because he immediately replied he'd be there in ten.

TEN? As in ten minutes? That's it! Oh God, I really can't do this.

I moved so that my forehead rested against the table and I was looking into my lap. I started hyperventilating. It was too much. It was all happening too quickly. Seeing Iggy, talking to Iggy, talking to HIM. The room felt as though it was closing in. I can't breathe! I thought. There's no air in this room! Seriously, I'm going to pass out! I'm suffocating. I'm going to suffoca-

Someone placed something on the table in front me, making me jump and forget for a second that I was halving a panic attack. I glanced up. It was Iggy setting a pot of coffee down. Two mugs followed and a pitcher of milk.

"So, I guess you heard the that." I couldn't respond. Air didn't seem to be entering my lungs. I felt like I was drowning. "Breathe Max. It's going to be okay."

But I couldn't calm down and I wasn't sure it was going to be okay.

I stood up suddenly. I think I muttered to Iggy that I was going to be sick then I sprinted down the checkered hallway to the ladies room. When inside, I grabbed a hold of the sink counter and looked at myself. I was pale; very pale. My eyes were red and blotchy from crying. My shirt was still damp meaning that the crisp white it had been this morning was dulled but the embroidery on the pocket still flashed golden in the florescent lights. I wanted to rip those ugly words off! I hated this person that I'd become and I wished desperately (more desperately than I could possibly explain) that I could turn back time and change something, somehow so that I wasn't forced to leave them. I didn't want to be Staff Sargent Maximum Ride. I wanted to be Max, plain and simple.

I gripped the counter harder to stop my hands from rising and tearing at my pocket. I could feel bruises blooming underneath the surface of my fingertips as a result of gripping too tightly but the pain my neurons were alerting me was there didn't seem to be fully registering in my brain. I tried taking deep breaths to calm down and feel again but I failed. My lungs continued to compress the little air inside them painfully. The shaking in my hands had spread and reverberated around to the other parts of my body unhindered despite my death grip on the countertop.

I could hardly concentrate on anything but I knew that I needed to calm down. I needed to face HIM….. Fang. I needed to face Fang. There, I had thought his name. That wasn't so hard.

I can do this. I thought. I've been all over the world. Faced people that would make even the toughest, most experienced army General cry. I am tough. I have always come out on top. I can do this.

I really could do this. After all, talking to Iggy hadn't been all that hard in the end.

This time when I breathed I felt the air inflate my lungs deeply and steady my following breaths. As it turned out, air could enter my lungs and I wasn't suffocating. The shaking which had had a firm hold over my senses began to subside. I released the counter having finally been able to feel the hurt gripping it so hard was causing. I looked at myself in the mirror again and saw that some of the color had returned to my cheeks.

I really could go out there and meet Fang. I could.

I quickly flattened my damp hair, washed my face one more time and then walked back out into the diner.

Iggy was sitting at the table like he had been when I had left, but now someone was sitting across from him.

A someone who had black hair.

A someone whose tan face was directed away from me.

A someone who was Fang.

A/N2

WHOOO! That was a seriously emotionally charged chapter and now SHE'S ABOUT TO REUNITE WITH FANNNGGGYYY! Who's excited?! I hope I did Iggy's reaction justice, I know everyone was super excited for it. He's one of my favorite characters and I want to write more about him (give him the justice MR books 5, 6, 7, 8 and 9 didn't).

Review and tell me any opinions you may have on How to Seduce the Flock.

OR

Review and tell me what you think will happen next!

~El