Disclaimer: I do not claim any right to the Maximum Ride universe.
Please do review if you want me to continue. My ego needs stroking.
Despite my efforts, a faint hint of color flooded my cheeks and the smirks of the younger ones only intensified the blush. Refusing to care, I let him hold me, reveling in the strange feeling.
Yet all at once, I got super conscious of my less than tidy appearance. Having been on the run for six months, I had not found much time to pay attention to my appearance and now I was somewhat uncomfortable. Normally they were in the same boat as I was.
Angel suddenly leaped between us and dragged me out of Fang's grasp. "I am going to take her upstairs. Nudge, could you run down the street and get her some clothes? These have had it." She then proceeded to haul me along behind her out of the kitchen and up the stairs.
"Oh, thank God," I heard Iggy say loud enough for me to hear.
"I heard that," I shouted back. Laughter followed us to the second floor. Angel led me around the corner and threw herself into my arms when we were out of sight. Her tears began anew and she started shaking. I held her as tight as I could and we crashed to the floor together for the second time in an hour.
I gathered as much of her as I could onto my lap and leaned against the wall, rocking her gently. "I'm back, baby. I promise."
"Gazzy said he saw you dead, a bunch of times. He said that he could barely recognize you once, that the only way he could tell was because of some feeling in his gut and your hair," she whimpered.
A sudden fear that she was digging in my head overtook me and I snapped up the shields that I had developed in the lab. They had a telepath there, too, and he liked to scrounge around for my darkest fears, to make them into reality, to test me. She flinched and groaned a little. She had been digging around.
"Don't do that, Angel," I warned her. I would have to keep my defenses up. She should never know what I had been through. "And don't worry. I'm not dead. I'm not planning on dying for a real long time." I kissed her head and moved her back a little. "Now, how about that shower?" I was so desperate to be clean.
She didn't even crack a smile. "You feel like Jeb when you do that," she frowned and got to her feet. She must have know how that would slice straight to my heart, shields or no. I found it hard to breathe for a few seconds.
"I'm just trying to protect you, Angel. You don't need to know what's in my head," I told her.
She sniffed and nodded. "I know, it's just scary when you do that. I know that you aren't doing what Jeb did, but it's hard when you're so blank. It's like you are dead."
I sighed. "Just stay on the surface and we'll be fine, all right?" She nodded again and helped me to my feet.
"Mine and Nudge's bathroom is over here. The boys' is at the end of the hall, down there," she pointed with a look of disdain. "They're disgusting," she whispered.
"I remember," I whispered back. We shared a conspiratorial giggle. The shine was back in her eyes and she opened a cabinet and pulled out a huge fluffy towel. She saw my look of longing and tossed it to me.
The towel was definitely as soft as it looked and I wouldn't take my face out of it, feeling the softness and smelling the detergent. Detergent is one of my favorite smells. It just smells so clean. Angel had to take my arm to lead me into the bathroom. I dropped the towel as soon as she turned on the water and practically shoved her out the door.
"I'll be out in a while," I said, absently patting her shoulder. Her pretty laugh faded to background noise in favor of the sound of running water. She said something about drowning, but I had already closed the door.
I adjusted the temperature with practiced hands to as hot as I could stand it and stripped gleefully. I think that I was giggling uncontrollably until I was under the spray for ten minutes. After that I moaned in absolute pleasure.
I don't know how long I just stood there and let the heat wash over me, scalding and disinfecting me. No matter how clean I had gotten in the lab, I had always felt disgusting after one of their exercises. I had felt like I could never get clean again. Maybe it could happen here.
It had been so cold in the lab, too. I hate the cold.
Feeling a little shiver of cold air down my side, I turned up the heat even more. Eventually I got around to washing my hair. I combed my fingers through the long tangled mass, wincing at the incredible heat as it hit my scalp. Oh, well.
My hand found the bottle of Nudge's favorite shampoo and I dumped about a third of the contents into my hair. I felt like one of those women in the old Herbal Essences commercials. This experience was positively orgasmic. I just hope that I was quieter than they were. Probably not. I think I was louder.
I spent twenty minutes just on shampooing my hair, conditioning took another fifteen, now that my hair reached my lower back and was pretty thick. While I was rinsing the conditioner out of my hair I let my wings untuck to enjoy the water sluicing over my feathers. I love that feeling. It's almost like flying, just heavier.
I found a washcloth and some gel body wash and went to town. I scrubbed my heat singed skin until it was raw and pink. I think that there may have been some oozing, too, but not enough to be gross.
When I finally got out, I was thoroughly waterlogged and slightly sticky to the touch. Damned heat, but I wouldn't have it any other way. I patted myself dry and flipped my hair upside down to squeeze out the excess water.
Rummaging through the cabinets produced some lotion with aloe and I slathered it on generously. Maybe it would make the shiny pink tinge die down a little, and it soothed the irritation.
I straightened and caught a glimpse of myself in the foggy mirror. Automatically, my eyes went elsewhere.
During the time spent in the lab, I had developed an aversion to mirrors because I never knew what I would see. Options included Eraser Max, myself bloodied and torn, or some scene as though I were watching television showing me the goings on of various people in my life. The possibilities were endless and I hated all of them.
I wrapped the towel around myself tightly and reached for the doorknob, but in a sudden burst of recklessness I faced the mirror. Enough of the steam had evaporated so that I saw myself clearly in the silvered glass. To my surprise, I looked like me. I was a paler, leaner, cleaner than I had last seen myself, but I was me.
I touched my face carefully, afraid that I might sprout fur and fangs and go on a rampage. All I saw was what I felt. I brushed my hair to get the knots out, grinned at my reflection, that looked like me, and headed out the door into the hall.