A/N: Hey guys! Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed! And yes, I know I'm posting this rather quickly, but I had the idea for this chapter, and I really didn't want to forget it. xP Anyway, there is definitely more action in this chapter, and I can't wait to see what you guys think.
Disclaimer: I do not own Maximum Ride
XXXXXXXXXChapter 1: Facing the Past
And that's when the world ripped apart.
Or at least, that's what it felt like. Enormous pressure pressed down on me, from all angles, and, curling myself into a tight, tense ball, I attempted to save myself from what I was positive must be the end of the world. Why the heck didn't I listen to the Voice when I had the chance? I could have saved the world for crying out loud. Eyes wide, I struggled to move, run, fight, anything…but I was paralyzed.
The scene around me, the house, the family room, began stretching, pulling apart, collapsing on itself. Pummeled by the roaring scream and rush of, was it wind?, around me, I watched as jagged cracks appeared in the scenery; abruptly, the endless noise of the end of the world stopped, and all I could hear was the quiet, but still bone-chilling, sound of the world as it ripped and cracked apart, and, almost as if the whole world itself was a mere photograph, began crumpling at the edges, revealing an impenetrable darkness…
I'd like to say that, during this whole nightmare of a dream, I sat there, completely unfazed by the fact that the world appeared to be ending, instinctively taking a defensive stance, a jaunty smirk on my face and a dangerous gleam in my eye, and all that other heroic crap. That even with imminent death rapidly approaching, I remained cool and collected (hey, Fang isn't the only one around here who has a stupid reputation to keep up). After all, I was Max the Invincible, Max the Unstoppable, and of course, Max the Holder of the All-important Bank Card, right? Well, as much as I'd like to say that that's what happened, it's not. Here's what was really going on in my head. I'm sure the Voice got an absolutely hilarious front-row view…
Oh my god, oh my god, oh my freaking GOD, what the heck is going on, I'm going to die I'm going to die Die Die Die, string of unmentionable curses, I'm going to die…
Um. Yeah. You didn't hear that from me. I'm Max the Invincible, remember?
Before I had gotten far with my mental gibbering, the world thankfully stopped cracking apart, and shattered, insubstantial pieces of scenery flying everywhere. Only to reveal another scene behind it. What? I opened my mouth to draw in a shuddering breath, the first I'd taken since the world had started to freaking rip apart, but what I saw next caused my throat to lock from shock, effectively stopping any air from reaching my exhausted body…A very, very small corner of my brain was wondering whether I would suffocate if I continued, um, not breathing like this for much longer.
Feeling utterly and hopelessly confused, I watched as, in this new dream scene (I was once again in the family room of the old house, except, that it seemed vaguely different…), a 4-year old blond little girl ran up to a 12-year old Max, who was in the process of cleaning up after Iggy's latest attempt to perfect his stash of bombs (where the heck did he keep them anyway?), and tugged on her sleeve. I sucked in a sharp breath (finally), but I wasn't worried that the younger versions of Angel and myself would look up and notice me standing there in the corner, because I knew exactly what I was looking at. A memory. Something that had happened in the past. A day that would be impossible to sear from my mind, because that was the day that Jeb…
"Ange, what is it?" the 12-year-old-and-still-perfectly-safe version of me said, jerking me from my own painful thoughts.
Angel hesitated, and then said weakly, "Something's wrong."
"Well, if you're talking about the mess Iggy made in here, then you are absolutely right. Would it really kill him to do all this bomb stuff in his own room? Instead of, what, ruining the rest of the house?" My 12-year old self subsided into grumpy, unintelligible muttering; my sensitive ears were able to pick up on the words, stupid pyromaniac… I cracked a grin, but then stopped, when I realized that I already knew what Angel was going to say. I held my breath. Geez, what is it with me and not breathing today?
12-year old Max looked up sharply from the nest of wires, scrap metal, and oil stains on the carpet, when she heard the weird, almost dead sounding tone Angel was using. "Max, Jeb's gone." I watched as my younger self tensed and swallowed slowly; I think she stopped breathing…funny, how alike we were. Well, no duh.
"What?"
"I can't feel him anymore Max, not his thoughts, not anything, he's just not here." A tear slipped down her cheek, and Angel squeezed her eyes shut, desperately trying to be brave, even though she was only a little kid, 4 years old. I knew what was going through Max's (my?) head. I hadn't believed it at first. Why would Jeb be gone? He'd never left, never, not since he'd spirited us away from that freaking nightmare of a place, The School. He loved us. He even told that to us himself, said that he would never leave us. That he would protect us and teach us. Just like a real father. I noticed that 12-year old Max had a defiant scowl on her face. Denial, I suspected. But I knew better. Knew that, over the next few days, when she and the whole Flock realized that Jeb just wasn't coming back, her heart would break, as she eventually accepted that Jeb, her protector, was dead. And the next time she saw him…I gritted my teeth…the next time she saw him, it would only add insult to injury. Yes, Jeb, the one who had taught her how to fly, how to fight, how to make a couple of danged hotdogs, the one who had given her a family, would be the sole reason behind the fact that, even at age 14, she would always be on the run.
The Angel in the dream began to sob quietly, and since I couldn't stand seeing her cry, I hurried forward, even as she rushed blindly over to hug the other Max. But when I reached out for her, I, surprise surprise, passed right through her. Stumbling, I quickly regained my shaky balance, and when I looked up again, Max and Angel were gone, and the world around me was flickering. Oh no, not again. Please not that again. Isn't it enough to watch the world end once? Come on, I said PLEASE. But, no luck. The scene around me was changing rapidly, flickering and shifting between other scenes, other worlds, at an inconceivable speed, but what I did manage to see was enough to tell me what was going on: these scenes, here and gone the next second, were more memories. More flashbacks of what my life had been like in the past.
Nudge's 10th 'birthday.' She was holding her present from the flock, a camera.
Fang and me, sparring with sticks. Looked like Fang was winning…Iggy and Gazzy grinning, as they held up a ticking bomb, their first joint effort.
Angel sitting on Fang's shoulders, smiling and patting his head.
The whole flock, crying together…Jeb…dead?
Nudge…Angel…Fang
Gazzy…Iggy
Fang
Iggy
Angel
The memories continued flashing erratically, and I noticed the tears that were welling in my eyes. Geez my head hurt. Even with Jeb gone, presumably dead, we had been so happy together…Suddenly, an unsettling scene popped in front of me, but it was not one that I recognized. In it was the Flock, looking exhausted, clothes ragged and stained with the blood of Erasers, and they were all at their current ages. The heck? Fang and Iggy were 14, Nudge was 11, Gazzy was 8, and little Angel was now 6. But there was a glaring problem with this scene. And no, I'm not talking about the Eraser blood; Eraser blood is never a problem.
I wasn't in the picture.
Before I had a chance to think, the pace of the flickering scenes around me abruptly quickened, until I was surrounded by a flashing whirl of pure white. And then, I was being engulfed by a terrifying, dead-looking black, the white growing smaller and smaller. Tunnel vision, I thought through the haze of fear. The white winked out, but surprisingly, disappointingly even, I didn't die. Instead, I was alone in a world of utter blackness…Oh wait. Not completely alone.
There was a door in front of me. I could feel hyperventilation beginning to creep up. Man, I thought, in a last desperate attempt to cheer myself up, if this whole dream is happening because Iggy did something funny with the food, I am so going to kill him…Needless to say, I failed miserably. Hesitantly, I reached for the silver doorknob, hoping frantically that this was my ticket outta here. But before I even touched the door, it changed.
It became transparent. See through. Black one second and clear the next.
I wish it had stayed black.
Because through that door, I could see all my deepest, most terrifying fears, flickering and shifting, just like those fluctuating memories…
Snakes
Cages
Needles
The School
Whitecoats
The flock, dead.
I watched, petrified, mesmerized, flinching when I caught sight of the Flock's imaginary lifeless bodies. There was no way on earth that I was going to reach for that door, and unlock the dam I had built up, the dam that kept back all my fears and kept me strong enough to lead the flock.
But what happened next, or rather, what I heard, was enough to make me lunge for the door, viciously twist the knob, and grimly race through, slamming the door behind me. Running straight towards my fears and because of my fears.
Angel was screaming.
XXXXXXXXXA/N: Hope you liked it, and again, thanks for reading. This was a really, really exciting chapter to write for me, and I'm sorry, but I adore cliffies. By the way, for any of you who are wondering if there is going to be Faxness in this story, I'm just not sure yet. First, because I'm not sure if it would be possible, for reasons that you will soon find out, and second, because I think that if I even attempted Faxness, I would so mutilate it that all Faxness fans out there will wish that they had never even heard of this story, or Faxness, for that matter. But I could try. Hope that didn't put you off reading this story
There's a couple things I want to say:
Was Max or Angel getting out of character? Did the story sort of slip out of JP-ish style as the story went on? I am more than willing to add more Max sarcasm, but, I wasn't sure if, if I put more, I would be overdoing it.
Did I get all the facts rights? I'm pretty sure I did: The Flock was rescued by Jeb 4 years ago, and Jeb 'died' 2 years ago, correct? I would check the book myself, but, oh woe is me, I can't find it. Gasp )
I'm almost positive that this chapter was confusing beyond repair…but I hope you guys understood it…I guess it's kind of supposed to seem other-worldy, but whatever.