Chapter Eight:

A/N: Sorry about all the short chapters. I kind of am rushing this story, but that's okay, its working out. Oh my gosh, I didn't even realize this but my friend (TheSmartOne - it fits, doesn't it?) pointed out that I inferred that Iggy could see in a previous chapte, so just ignore that little error…Anyways, here it goes:

Recap: I looked around, seeing nothing but smoke. In seconds, though, it was gone. And so was my Flock.

"Where is she?" Angel whispered to Fang, looking and searching with her eyes through the smoke rising over where the building once stood. Fang didn't answer for a moment. His black eyes were expressionless, as always, but inside he was frantic. Where was Max? Did she…die?

"I don't know, but I'm sure she's okay." Fang said slowly, looking over towards the rest of the Flock. They had to get of here, but he couldn't leave without finding Max first. He really didn't know if she was okay. He half was trying to convince himself that. Angel nodded, and floated off to where the rest of the Flock had landed due to Gazzy complaining his wings hurt. They were on the edge of a bed of rocks, huddled together and worrying for their leader, and their fellow Flock member. Fang stayed in the air, hovering about ten feet above the debris covered ground. He flew a little ways away from the Flock. They wouldn't go anywhere, he ensured himself by tapping Iggy's hand twice, and he nodded; his arm halfway around Nudge's shoulder. She was grinning from ear to ear.

"I'm going to go look for Max," he had told them. They protested, but he wavered away. So here he was, flying over the small fires and dead white coats. Remains of the walls were scattered all about and pieces of Flyboy's bodies were distinct and shiny against the gravel like ground. "MAX!" he shouted into the open air. It echoed off in the distance, and he stopped to listen to his own voice for once.

"Fang, wait!" a girl's voice called from behind him. He whipped around, almost whacking his own wing he did it so fast. He half expected his Max to be flying towards him, grinning boldly and telling him how pathetic he was for actually thinking she was dead when she really was hiding, but instead, he could make out the shape of Angel floating towards him. Her face was streaked with tears and covered with dirt.

"What's wrong?" he asked automatically, landing on the dirt. She followed him and sank to her small little knees.

"I can't hear her," she whispered, her delicate voice cracking. Fang understood what that meant. If Angel couldn't hear Max's thoughts, she was either dead, or too unconscious to think. Angel started crying again, tears flowing without a pause down her dirty cheeks. Fang knelt down to her level, and looked her in the eye, putting his hand on her shoulder as she shook with sobs.

"Angel, listen to me. Max is going to be okay." He said calmly, for he was trying to tell himself that too. Angel nodded, but the tears kept coming. "She's going to be just fine. And we'll find her, and she'll be fine." He kept repeating himself, hoping the message would sink at least into Angel if he couldn't convince himself.

Angel nodded once more and wiped her face. The dirt stained her sleeve, but she didn't seem to care. She sniffed one last sob and then looked up at Fang. "Now go back to where Iggy is." Fang said, helping her up and giving her one small push towards where Iggy was surely freaking out, looking around for Angel.

"Okay," Angel obeyed almost cheerfully and she soared up into the air, her little white wings beating softly in the gray air. She smiled brightly at him, as if Max was waiting just beyond the horizon. In minutes, she disappeared towards Iggy.

Fang stood up and looked around, his hands forming fists of steel. He felt the urge to smack something really hard, just to get his anger out. He looked around, and saw a large piece of metal on the ground. He kicked it with all his might, only to find what he mistaken for metal was a block of cider. He yelped, holding his foot while jumping up and down, surely looking like an idiot if anyone saw him. Thank god he was alone, he thought, and heard a mental giggle. Angel, he scowled.

"Well that was pretty stupid," someone said. His head jerked up. There was smoke rising from a small fire, clouding up the air in front of him. Her could see a black silhouette of something with wings. Someone with long hair. Someone tall and skinny. Someone like Max. The figure stepped forward, out of the dusty cloud. Her face was dirty, stained with blood, dirt and a mixture of the two. Her smile was priceless, stretching across her whole face and touching her eyes with the right volume. Her stance was heroic, her arms bent and her hands on her hips. Her wings were outstretched, one bent awkwardly. It was Max.

Fang didn't even think. He rushed towards me and wrapped his arms around me before I could even move. He held me so tight I actually choked a bit.

"Fang…can't…breathe!" I staggered under his hold, and he slackened, pulling back to look at me. Another one of those, non thinking moments came about him, and he leaned down to kiss my blood stained lips. I didn't respond, but as soon as I knew what was going on, my lips were moving with his. Fang pulled back for a second, and looked in my eyes, and at that second, he knew what I'd been hiding from him for so long.

"Oh this is sick." Gazzy's annoyed voice brought them both back to reality five minutes later. I smiled, wiping the blood off my face. There was huge gash down my cheek, and it stung, but I didn't care. Fang didn't release his arms from around me, and I didn't protest. His arms were strong, firm, and it felt like home. Iggy was grinning, his arm still around Nudge, who was looking ecstatic.

"Max!" she squealing rushing forward to me to huge me. She wrapped her bony arms around me and sucked Fang into this hug too. I laughed, glancing at Angel, who's dirty little curls were hung in front of her face. "Group hug!" Nudge squealed, and pulled the rest of the Flock in her embrace, especially Iggy. How I wished we could just stay like this for the rest of our lives.

A/N: Should this be the end or should I write more? Review