WHOA!! I changed the title and summary! Did you notice? Of course you did. I'm trying to update more frequently now, but school starts – today, actually, so that may not last long.

Disclaimer: I don't own Maximum Ride. Picked up on that too, did ya? You're sharp.

Chapter 3

I was jolted from my self-inflicted trance by little fists banging on the door. "Max!" Angel's voice traveled through the door, her trying so hard to sound fierce. "Come out! Now!" Startled, I sat up quickly and my head collided with the bunk above yet again with a loud thud. I groaned loudly. Now, at least, my head would be symmetrical. Matching bruises on either side. Whoopee.

"Max…?" That was Nudge, hesitant for once. "Are you…alright?" They must have heard my unfortunate encounters with the bunk above.

Swearing bitterly, I crossed over to the door and kicked the chair away before opening it.

"Oof!" I said intelligently as the breath was knocked out of me. Nudge had thrown her arms around me and was now hugging me fiercely.

"ZOMG! Max you scared us to death! I mean we were all really really worried of course but Fang was the most! And I'm so glad you came out because we've been waiting out here for you and we didn't finish out food and I'm really hungry – you are okay, aren't you?"

"Yeah, what was that big bang we heard?" the Gasman piped up, his worry clouding his blue eyes.

I rubbed my head ruefully. "Uh…let's just say that I changed my mind and I want the top bunk now." I smiled sheepishly.

"But why did you run in there?"

"Oh, that." I waved my hand airily, hoping my ability to lie convincingly on the spot would choose to make an appearance now. "I had a… uhm, panic attack. You know. Since we're in a huge metal tub, and all." Heck yes!

"Why did you lock us out?" Angel looked up at me innocently, even going so far as to take my hand.

I only needed to lie down, sweetie. I didn't need any help," I replied, just as sweetly. Fang was staring at me, face impassive as usual. He raised a dark eyebrow, and I knew he didn't believe my story any more than I believed that Santa Claus wasn't just a fat old guy who snuck into your house and stole food from your fridge. He just knew me that well. Or maybe my story was crappier than I thought.

"Okay, well, can we go finish our meal now that we've decided Max isn't about to drop dead?" Iggy said impatiently. I winced slightly at his choice of words, and tried to keep any traitorous thoughts from crossing my mind, which was about as inevitable as the Mariners finishing the bottom of the league again. I could only hope Angel was honoring my request of privacy in my own head. Privacy was pretty laughably impossible considering I had a Voice I couldn't get rid of.

Pasting a smile on my face, I sent the flock to finish their meal. "I need some air," I told them. "It's way too close in here."

I soon realized how true my excuse actually was. As I walked down the corridor it felt as though the walls were closing in on me, kind of like in the old Star Wars movie. But then, they had been in a junk compactor, not a compactor made of junk like I was.

I speeded up, actually running to get to the railing of the boat. The wind felt nice against my burning face. I closed my eyes, wondering how I was ever going to force myself back in the floating hamster box.

I opened my eyes, and was startled to see Fang leaning on the rail next to me, his eyes fixed on my face.

"Why'd you follow me?" I asked, flustered. I hadn't heard him come like usual, and also like usual it was unnerving.

He ignored the question but continued to stare fixedly into my eyes. I had no idea what he saw there. Despair? Resolve? For I already knew what my next move from here would be.

"Max, I think we both know that you did not just have a panic attack down there," Fang said, his eyes never leaving mine.

"No?" I said innocently, inwardly hating how easily he could read me. I wished I could read him just half as well, actually know what he was thinking in that scruffy head of his.

"No." His voice was firm. He reached out suddenly, putting his hand on top of mine. "All I know is that you ran out of that room looking freaked, and now you look like…like somebody died."

I repressed a shudder. Not someone, but something had died. My life here with the flock. I covered with an offense. "I'm fine. Save your sympathy for someone who wants it. Like people who didn't have panic attacks because maybe some of us just want to be left alone!" I felt close to spitting at the end.

Fang waited patiently through my outburst, then said calmly, "That wouldn't include you because say what you like, that wasn't a panic attack." I tried to pull my hand away, and his grip tightened. His expression turned intense, and he moved a step closer. His voice lowered, somehow softer than a whisper, and I had to concentrate to halt a another shiver of an entirely different kind. "Who was that on the phone?"

I turned angry again. "It was God. He wants you to quit bugging me or you're going to hell." I tried twisting away again, and he let me go, but only just before he grabbed my arms and forced me to face him. I thought I could detect a spark of anger now in those dark eyes.

Someone else came up on deck. I turned to them, distracted. It was Brigid. "Oh, there you are, Fang! I – ," she stopped when she took in our current position, and Fang's intense expression, which hadn't left me. I felt heat rising in my face again. I tried to squirm away, but Fang held me tighter.

"I see," she said, after an uncomfortable pause. "Well, don't let me interrupt." She disappeared below.

I turned back to Fang, whose gaze hadn't left me the entire time. He hadn't even glanced up when Brigid walked in on us.

"You do know that it was Brigid that just walked in, right?" I said in disbelief. When his expression didn't change I felt the need to clarify. "Brigid Dwyer?"

"Who cares?" he snapped, and I was taken aback. "I want to help you. Max, if there's something going on…something you're afraid to tell the other…" His tone had changed again to something low and intimate, sending butterflies to my stomach. He had pulled me closer, and now one of his hands carefully and gently pushed my hair back from my face. "I used to be your best friend. I hope I still am." His arm pulled me against him so he was holding me, while his other hand continued to stroke my hair.

I allowed myself to be comforted a moment. It was so easy, here in his arms, I though, my head on his shoulder, to imagine that nothing could ever hurt me, that he wouldn't let anything hurt me. I heard the steady sound of his heart beating, and imagined myself telling him my little problem. He would hold me even tighter, and promise it would be alright, and I wouldn't have to face this alone.

And I might get him killed.

In real life, Fang brought his mouth down to my ear. "Let me help you," he breathed, warm breath stirring my hair.

But my last sobering thought had brought me back to reality. I pushed away from him. "I don't need any help," I growled. There was so much more written on his face than I had ever seen there before, but I was afraid to read it. I found I somehow had the courage to reenter the hellhole, practically sprinting to get away from Fang.

He didn't follow, and I was grateful. I somehow just couldn't keep up the lie when he was around.

But when I saw the flock again, they all wanted to go fly around, just for fun outside. I agreed, dreading facing my familiar-yet-strange-acting friend. Luckily, he wasn't there. Probably off making up – or making out – with Brigid.

Or so I thought until I saw her come up with Dr. Papa. No Fang. Well, the pair of them would talk later, when I was – I couldn't even finish the thought.

The flock and I minus Fang kept busy for the rest of the day, just flying around, playing games, and having a great time. It succeeded in keeping my mind off what I would do later that night, teasing Gazzy, tickling Angel, laughing with Nudge, and hitting Iggy for being a sexist pig. But, usually right in the middle of a really good laugh, I found tears starting in my eyes and sorrow piercing through me. I wish we could stay happy like this forever.

At these times I would become aware of Angel's penetrating gaze, and throw myself into the activities with a renewed will to keep our merriment going.

I didn't want this day to ever end, but gradually the sun slipped lower over the horizon, until only a little sliver of it was showing. We coasted down to the deck, barely making any noise.

Dinner was a silent affair – for me, anyway. I tuned out the conversation, and offered monosyllabic words when it was directed my way, sinking deeper into my melancholy.

Everyone was tired from our day, so we turned in early. Yeah, it was hard being a mutant bird kid on-the-run, but someone had to do it.

I waited three hours in my bunk, trying not to think at all because it was inevitable I would talk myself out of what I was about to do. I made sure I heard Angel's deep, even breathing, Nudge's stirring and muttering, and total's snore – do dogs snore, or does it go along with the talking thins? – before I climbed carefully down from my new top bunk and carefully pulled out the backpack I had stashed under the bed. Years of required stealth meant that I had achieved this in complete silence.

Once out of the room, I listened at the boys' door and heard Iggy and Gazzy's snoring. Fang hadn't come back yet, and I hoped he didn't hate me too much when he returned to find me gone. He would be a good leader for the flock. Besides, he had the experience – from when he was head of the mini-flock when we separated.

And the three of them came back with bashed-in faces, the Voice put in. Comforting.

I scolded the Voice. They dove in the ocean to get rid of the Flyboys! It was a great plan!

Max, you're making a mistake. The flock needs you and you need to turn around right now.

I clamped down on the Voice before I actually listened to it.

Once on deck, I looked around one last time, actually managing to summon up some affection for the ancient boat. After all, she hadn't sunk, had she?

Standing at the railing, I closed my eyes and prepared to jump. Goodbye. I love you all. I climbed up so I was crouching on the metal bar, and leaned forward –

And was suddenly yanked back – quite painfully, I might add – by the hood of my sweatshirt. I toppled over and hit the deck, hard, my breath knocked out of me. Then hands gripped the undersides of my arms, yanking me into a standing position.

I barely had time to register Fang's murderous expression before he shook me back and forth vigorously, snapping my head around. I planted my feet and shoved his chest away, but he was so much stronger than me that I doubt he felt it all. Thankfully, he stopped shaking me.

"What – do you think – you're DOING?" Fang snarled, bringing his face close to mine. I had never seen him this furious. Not even battling Ari, out for revenge, had caused him to show so much emotion on his face.

"What do you – what are you doing out here?" I was so, so confused. Not like that was anything new.

"I thought something like this might happen," Fang said savagely, talking to himself more than he was talking to me. "But I didn't really believe it! Oh, God, you're crazy!" He was speaking to me again, and I wished he wasn't. He eyes were practically shooting sparks. "Why are you leaving?"

I hoped my face was expressionless; if it wasn't this would just be that much harder. I made my voice as cold and unfeeling as I could. "I have to do this."

"Like hell you do!" he exploded, shaking me again. "Tell me why."

I kept my face like stone, but on the inside my mind was whirling. How do I make him let go of me? I was fairly confident that, once in the air, I could outfly anyone, but Fang's grip on me was too tight to escape. I twisted experimentally, and automatically his hands tightened. Oh, fabulous. Only one way out of this.

"Let me go, Fang," I growled. "You don't need to know my reasons. You just need to know I need to go." I was starting to sound like a nursery rhyme.

He studied my face, no doubt searching for answers there, and abruptly I decided it was too dangerous to stay a moment longer.

Without warning, I wrenched away as hard as I could from him and simultaneously brought my knee up hard. His hand stopped my attack, but I jumped in the air and brought my other leg up in a snap kick to his chest. I didn't do it hard enough to cause damage, but I heard his breath leaving his lungs in a whoosh.

His hands found my shoulders again, but I knocked them away before he could get a good grip and twisted his arm behind his back. We were both holding back on our strength and skills during this struggle; I wasn't sure what was going through his mind but there was no way I was going to hurt my best friend.

Unexpectedly he dropped down to a crouch and swept my feet out from under me with his leg. I landed on my butt and lost my grasp on his arm. Instantly he was on top of me, pinning me to the ground, bracing himself for my next attack. I couldn't flip him over.

I realized just then our positions. Him on top of me, chest touching my chest, thighs touching my thighs, face just mere inches away. I burned in the places where he touched me – which was all over. I looked in his eyes, his expression still angry.

I think in my eyes he saw acceptance, and no intention to keep fighting. That's because I had no intention to keep fighting. He let up the pressure on my body for a moment, and on autopilot – get it, ha ha – I resumed fighting.

He tried to pin me down again, but one of my legs had twisted around his and flipped us over so he was the one under me. I straddled his chest, and pushed him down brutally, immobilizing him.

I heard footsteps pounding up the stairs. Someone must have heard all our thumping. Quick as a flash, I jolted up and sprinted to the side of the boat. I didn't pause for the emotional breakdown this time, jumping and rising again almost immediately, my wings beating hard.

"Max!" I had time to hear Fang yell, before I left them behind in the dust.

I knew the flock would be right behind me, so kept up my super speeded flight.

I felt myself crying again, and continued on through the night, feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders and bearing the sudden burden of loneliness that comes with flying solo.

A/N: On her own… well, I didn't update as soon as I would have liked, but I think it's still an improvement. And I also like the title/summary better now. Hopefully the next chapter will be up soon!