A/N: This chapter is meant to take place some miscellaneous amount of time after the last, I give no specifics and instead leave it up to the reader.

Chapter VI: He and Him

For a night in the city, this one was unusually peaceful. The sky was a tranquil indigo blue, with hazy purple clouds covering the stars above. The noise was down to an unusually low dull roar, and the rain (which had been going on for days at a time, pouring without a pause) seemed to be at peace with the rest of the world. Nights like these were to be savored, they were rare in New York. And most New Yorkers did their best to do so.

Save perhaps Fang and Iggy.

At the moment, Fang was in a bitter battle with his own dreamland, thrashing about madly, and panting in an out of breath way that suggested strenuous exercise, not simply your garden variety nightmare.

Iggy, on the other hand, was doing his best to make himself as small as possible, trying to avoid Fang's flailing limbs. In a few moment's time, he knew the dream would climax and Fang would wake up, in a terrified cold sweat. Until then, it was the best he could do to try and stay out of the way.

These night terrors were becoming increasingly common, three or four times a week even. Every time they were the same, precisely three minutes, eighteen seconds in length (as far as Iggy could tell.) It also followed a strict pattern of moaning and panting throughout. Which- to an untrained ear- sounded more like... well, use your imagination!

And, in any case, only three words were spoken by the brunette during the whole dream. "No", "please" and "Iggy".

So far, Fang had told him little about these dreams. He only knew that the entire Flock supposedly died. Though somehow he found that hard to believe with the way the other boy called out his name. Or perhaps they all did die, and he was merely reacting to Iggy's death more emotionally. It was quite possible.

"Ah!" Fang's voice suddenly gasped for breath on the other side of the bed as the dream ended, and with the end of the dream, the night quickly became silent again, save the sound of the other boy's panting for breath.

Despite himself, Iggy let out a low sigh of relief. He was glad this was over, it was not the most delightful experience to be nearly attacked by a sleeping person. Especially someone like Fang, much stronger than he. Also, one who you'd never suspect to have such trifles.

"Iggy!"

Without warning the taller boy felt Fang's cheek pressed against his collarbone, and his arms wrapped around him tightly. They were both silent in the embrace, not wanting to wake any of the other Flock members who weren't already aroused by Fang's dream. But all the same, Iggy did get the impression this particular terror had been a bad one. Judging by the way Fang had refused to separate himself from Iggy since waking, and how his breath had still not settled as it usually did within the first few moments of his waking.

He knew it'd be best if they got some chance to talk about this alone, and as soon as possible. But at the same time, they couldn't wake everyone else, especially Max, without taking the risk of making some fearful scene. Max would likely want to squeeze every detail out of the dream that Fang had, and that probably included why it was only Iggy's death that got such a reaction out of him; not the others. Right now, the two weren't ready to explain that part of it. Or at least, Fang said he wasn't.

Iggy was honestly all for telling them, being open and honest about it all, but Fang... well, for some reason he seemed wary of it. Iggy supposed he'd have to talk to him about that too, if they ever were to tell the rest of the Flock about their little secret.

"Fang," he whispered softly as Fang's breath started to even out, "is anyone else awake yet?" He felt Fang's body move away from him, if just for a moment, to glance around the rest of the shack. Though he quickly pulled himself closer once again.

"Not," the other boy panted as his breath finally seemed to settle, "that I know of."

"Good," Iggy replied, pulling away just enough for a clear shot at Fang's lips, which he kissed both affectionately and reassuringly, "let's go up then, shall we?"

"Mmm-Hmm," was all that could be heard from Fang. He still sounded a bit shell shocked from whatever had been going on inside his head the minute before. But Iggy knew how to fix that, or at least aide in fixing it.

"C'mere," he whispered roughly and kissed Fang again, but this time, much harder. Fang seemed a bit surprised at first, but quickly relaxed and let the tension in his muscles slip away.

"Better?" Iggy asked when they broke apart.

"Definitely," Fang's second whispered reply was more assured than his little "mmm-hmm" from before.

"That's what I thought," the blind boy said as he quietly rolled out of bed, doing his best not to disturb the coils in the mattress too much and thereby waking the Flock with it's loud squeaking.

Silently, Fang took his arm and pulling him through the darkness. Over the years he'd gotten better at this sort of thing, and by now he was nearly a pro at it. If leading a blind kid around was an Olympic sport, Fang would have definitely gotten silver. (Iggy was forced to deduct a point, remembering the day before when they'd both nearly walked into traffic.)

"You first," Fang said as the cool night air whirled around the two of them. Despite himself, Iggy shivered. It was getting colder everyday it seemed, and soon, there would be snow. Or sleet at the least, then what would they do? The old warehouse surely wasn't built for that sort of thing, and they really did not have money to rent an apartment of any sort. Well, scratch that, actually.

Lately, they seemed to have come into a lot of wealth. Wealth no one could explain, save Max, who put herself in charge of finances. Fang had often expressed wonder at the feat, and Iggy had to try very hard not to spill Max's secret.

A week ago he'd woken up to the shifting of trash bags, and a few choice words flying from Max's mouth. She, with her heightened senses, knew right away when she was being watched, and that making excuses were not going to help the situation.

The fact was, Max had been looting. Not only the things in (and on top of) the warehouse, but from abandoned cars and apartments. Not unlike a street rat. Apparently she'd been making good money in it too, selling everything from fake Rolex's to old vanities.

She'd made him swear not to tell, seeing as she didn't want the younger children to get any ideas, and she wouldn't dare darken her image in Fang's eyes. (Not her exact words, but a good guess on Iggy's part.)

So, then again, maybe an apartment was possible.

The blonde was tempted, once again, to slip Max's secret to Fang, but remembering Max's tone of voice (border lining desperation and mental breakdown) clamped his mouth firmly shut, knowing there'd be a time in the future, and instead obliged Fang, and wrapping his fingers tightly around the rusted metal and meticulously began to climb the rickety ladder. Shortly after, he heard Fang follow.

When the two had reached the top, he felt Fang's hands take his own, "I'm sorry about putting you through this," Fang said, the rise in the volume of his voice was a good hint that he was slowly getting back to his usual, stoic ways, "must be awful to have my pathetic whimpering wake you up every night."

"On the contrary," Iggy was about to say, "I'd have it that way every night," but thinking it may have been a bit too forward at the time instead said, "I don't mind at all."

"Shut up," Fang said flatly, "You're nice Iggy, but you're not a saint."

Had he not been in the middle of a yawn, Iggy would have laughed.

"But I'm close." He managed at the tail end of the yawn.

"Closer than some people." Maximum Ride, for instance, Iggy thought to himself. Her temper was becoming notoriously short with each passing day.

The two sat next to each other somewhat peacefully for a time. Just sitting. Not talking, not laughing, just relaxing. It almost felt like they were back at the School.

"Fa-ang!" Max whined loudly, "Wa-ait!"

She sounded amazingly like the future Nudge, whom none of them knew at the time.

"Hurry up!" had been Fang's hasty reply. The three of them were sneaking into the staff room to watch television, it was three o'clock in the morning, and they were running all the good cartoons at the time.

"We're gonna miss it!" her moan was no less than annoying, no more than fretful. As she caught up with the two, Iggy could see a worried grimace across her face. She didn't want to get caught. She knew what would happen if they did. After all, she'd been caught out at night (chasing after a winged lab rat who'd passed her door) only the month before. She still had the scars to prove it.

"Don't worry," the blonde boy said reassuringly. He wasn't sure if he meant that they wouldn't miss it, or that they wouldn't get caught, but either way her frown eased up, if only by a little.

"C'mon!" Fang hissed, motioning at the door for the other two to follow. The guards would be coming around in precisely two and a half minutes, at 3:14. They'd memorized their time schedule the week before, carefully counting the seconds between each time they passed their room.

Iggy and Max both hurried after, not wanting to get caught or miss their chance at "Scooby Doo".

When they came to a skidding halt at the door, Max handed him a bobby pin she'd swiped off of an intern (she wouldn't dream of using them herself.) Careful not to make too much noise Iggy gently pushed it into the lock and gave it a few jiggles. He'd watched a female intern use this approach to break into the storage room when she'd locked her key inside.

"Let's go!" he said, cracking open the door just enough for three mutant kids to pass through.

Max hadn't stayed for more than five minutes before turning back, obviously the whitecoats' message had been strong enough to impale on her sense of adventure. Which left just Fang and Iggy, neither of whom were going to turn back until 4:38 AM, when the night guards switched with the morning guards. Then, they'd have the best chance of sneaking back, and they'd also have gotten in a little over a full hour of television.

Neither of them spoke since entering the room, partially so they would be able to keep the volume down, and partially because they didn't need to.

They were best friends, and they had a language of their own.

"What happens when I dream?" Fang said thoughtfully after a moment, breaking into Iggy's little flashback.

"Who what?" he replied, not having heard Fang correctly the first time, his head still stuck in the School. And his sight.

If there was anything possibly more annoying than being blind, it was remembering- and dreaming- with sight. Because in his head he could still see everything. If it was described to him he could make a picture of it, sure. But that was more or less like guess work. He didn't know if it was real or not. Memories on the other hand, those weren't guess work. He knew memories had happened, he'd seen them happen. Back before the darkness enclosed him, back before they'd escaped from the school.

Unfortunately, though, memories faded. While there were some things he could see in his head, clear as day, there were always certain missing pieces. Little chunks of his memory that he'd lost over time.

One of the worst things were people's faces. He was pretty good with profiles. The shapes of people's noses, the length and colour of their hair, etc. But he always had trouble with seeing people's faces straight on. Just plainly looking at them. Whenever he'd try to conjure up Max or Fang in his imagination looking at him head on (he'd only met Nudge and Gazzy slightly before his surgery, and Angel after, therefore he couldn't remember their faces as well, if at all) he'd find there were pieces missing. Max's eye colour, for instance, was a big problem. He remembered quite clearly they were green, but it was the shade the was the problem. Bottle green or blue-green? Bright or dull? As minor as it seemed, these problems continued to irk him.

He supposed if there were anyone he'd like to see though, it'd be Fang. Gazzy had described for him his New York makeover well enough, but it just had trouble putting it with his picture of nine-year-old Fang. In his mind, Fang still had his round, boyish face and big, watery brown eyes, but he knew Fang had grown up since then, and that his picture was quite wrong.

"What happens when I dream?" Fang repeated, a touch slower this time and with more diction.

"I still don't understand what you mean," Iggy said, running the words over in his head. What does he mean "what happens when I dream?" How the hell should I know? I'm not the one dreaming!

"Like, do I talk in my sleep or anything?"

Oh, that.

"Not really," Iggy said slowly, "you get pretty violent though." He bit his tongue immediately after saying it, violent? What the hell had come over him?

"Violent?" Fang seemed to be thinking along the same lines as his blind counterpart.

"You know, you toss and turn a lot," Not to mention swing a few good punches.

"Do I ever..." Fang paused as he chose the words, "hurt you?"

He seemed to be on a mind reading streak.

"Well... I do a fair job dodging," Iggy said slowly, knowing Fang would come down hard on himself either way.

"God, Iggy," Fang said, Iggy felt his body stiffen slightly as Fang's arms wrapped around his shoulders. That, he hadn't been expecting. Fang was not one to initiate touching usually. He was more of the standoffish sort, even when the two were alone.

"I'm sorry," he said, his hair brushing Iggy's cheek, "I didn't realize-"

"Don't worry about it," Iggy said reassuringly as he, in turn, wrapped his arms around the shorter boy. In a selfish way, Iggy almost enjoyed Fang's night terrors. Well, not the terrors themselves, but Fang's reaction afterwards. He was always more gentle, and vulnerable afterwards, more real than during the day, when he put up a stoic mask for the rest of the group.

Yes, Iggy decided, going over his own thought pattern, that was very selfish of him.

"But, Fang," he said, taking a deep breath and preparing for the worst, "I'd like to know... what are these dreams about, exactly?"

The brunette sighed- as if he'd been expecting this for some time- hugging Iggy even closer.

"I suppose I should tell you. After all, you've got to deal with it as much as me." He was quiet for a second, before picking up again.

"I've got to say there are some parts I still don't understand. And some parts I don't even remember." Iggy said nothing, realizing this was probably another one of Fang's tactics for avoiding the topic.

"Oh well, then," Fang sighed yet again, obviously seeing no way out of it.

"It starts out when I'm walking through this long hallway in the School, and there are all these doors, but they're closed and dark on the inside. Obviously locked on the inside. Except the door at the end has a light on, and I hear voices from it."

Of course, Iggy thought sarcastically to himself, don't all nightmares seem to start out that way?

"Well, when I reach the end of the hall there's really nothing to do but open it. When it's like the whole world kind of shifts and all of a sudden I'm in the middle of this white room. The walls, the floor, the ceiling, everything is white.

"To the right side, there are four gurneys lined up right next to each other. There's a white sheet over them, with a bulge like a body underneath and as I take a step closer I can see that it's them- Max, Nudge, Gazzy and Angel. They all have their eyes closed, and they're not breathing. It's like they're dead.

"I turn around," he could hear Fang gulping, as it seemed emotion had finally caught up with him, "and instead of the white wall that was there before, there's this sort of half wall. The top half is glass, so you can see in, and the bottom is plain old plaster. And inside there's Jeb, and he's standing over an operating table."

His voice turned, suddenly having less of a mono-toned quality to it, "Iggy, you're on the operating table."

Iggy couldn't help it, he felt a shiver run up his spine. The last thing he ever remembered seeing was the inside of the O.R. at the school, with Jeb, a big, doofy grin on his face standing over him.

"So, he's stand there looking at all these machines, like heart monitors and stuff. Then he stands over a table, looking at all the scalpels and stuff, like he's trying to decide what to use."

"That's when I see Ari, normal three-year-old kid Ari come into the room. He walks over to Jeb and starts to talk to him. After a second, the slime ball points at me, which is weird cause he didn't even look at me before. And then cute lil' kid Ari turns into big, scary Eraser wolf-man Ari.

"Then, the room starts to turn again, and it's just Ari chasing me through a forest, kind of like the one in Colorado, and I can hear him calling my name from behind me. But I don't look back, and instead I keep running. But then, I hear you, your voice calling after me. I turn around, and the last thing I see is you," Fang swallowed again, "falling over dead."

Ouch, Iggy thought to himself, that had to hurt.

"Are you okay?" he asked after a moment, for lack of a better thing to say.

"Yeah," Fang's voice cracked ever so slightly, "I'm fine."

"Listen," Iggy said firmly, as he pulled Fang's hands into his own, "don't ever think about it again."

"What-"

"The less you think about it, the less likely you'll have it again," Iggy explained, it was a flat out lie he'd made up off the top of his head, but hey! It sounded logical, it even kind of made sense. And anyway, he knew neither of them wanted to think about it anymore.

Fang gave another little "mmm-hmm" (this time with more confidence and less weakly) but said nothing. Then Iggy could hear him swallow once again. As if he were going to say something. But he didn't, and instead Iggy could feel his lips against his cheek.

"I love you", Iggy was tempted to say, but bit his tongue against his will. He'd said it to Fang about... oh, half a dozen times maybe. Including the poem. But Fang had never returned the favor.

Iggy wasn't hurt by it, though, as other people might be. He knew perfectly well Fang at least felt something for him, the dream was proof enough. But he also knew that perhaps Fang wasn't ready to say it. Or ready to accept he felt it.

Iggy was, though. Because truthfully, he'd loved Fang for a long time. Since they were six years old, even. Not in the way he did now, of course, but he'd loved him all the same. They'd been best friends, and even then he'd known that you could love your best friend. And so he had, quite fiercely.

Now, though, things were changing, and the difference between best friend love and love love were becoming quite evident.

"Hey," the blonde said after a moment, breaking the long silence, "have you ever..." he paused, thinking of the best distraction for them to discuss. Because honestly, they needed it.

"Have you ever.. thought about what you were going to do after this gets over?" It was a question he'd actually been meaning to ask Fang for sometime, and everyone else for that matter. It was also a question he'd thought about thoroughly himself, having nothing better to do during long, sleepless nights.

"After what gets over?" Fang asked blankly.

"You know, the whole save the world, find out parents, defeat the Erasers phase Max seems to be going through right now."

"Oh, that."

"Yeah... well, have you ever thought about it?"

"Honestly? No. But! I suppose, excusing school-"

"Obviously," Iggy added before he could help himself. They were smart kids, true, but it was unlikely they'd be accepted in any type of school that he could think of. College? If, by some off chance, they managed to squeeze in a GED, the ACT and the SAT between stomping on Eraser skull, maybe. But just plain highschool? No way in hell.

"Then maybe I'd join the airforce." He felt Fang's shoulder rise and fall in a shrug.

Iggy cringed inwardly at the thought of his friend in uniform. His current picture of mismatched nine-year-old Fang with fourteen-year-old Fang haircut in uniform looked very, very wrong. "Why?"

"It seems to follow the same general scheme, defeat the evil, save the innocent, etc." Yet another rise and fall of the shoulder.

"Yes... but..." Iggy trailed off, realizing he had no idea what to say.

"But what?"

"Don't you think we'll miss you?" Iggy asked hopelessly. Really, what he meant was something like, if you die I don't know what the heck I'm suppose to do with my life.

"Well..." Obviously Fang hadn't thought of this, "it's not like I'd be gone all the time."

Iggy sighed, recognizing a circular conversation on the horizon, "Just don't get yourself killed, okay?"

"I'll try," And Fang, for the first time since the discussion of his dream came up, laughed.

"Good, because I'm not going to be stuck with Max and Total for the rest of my life."

"Hmm," (This "hmm" was more thoughtful than the feeble "mmm-hmm".) Fang paused, "what are you going to do?"

"I dunno," Iggy sighed at his half lie, "maybe work in music."

"Like, performing? Iggy and the Iggettes?"

"No! I mean like... producing music." Truthfully, it wasn't "like producing music" at all. It was producing music. He'd thought about it, he'd thought about it a lot. Music was one thing that really didn't require sight. All you had to do is listen and play.

But performing, no matter how much he loved it, was a dangerous thing. There were trends, people got shelved once their particular trend was over. Production, on the other hand, was different, as long as there were artists, and there always would be, they'd need producers. It was simple.

"Oh."

"You have no idea what I'm talking about."

Fang didn't even try to protest, "None."

"Just like I know nothing about the airforce."

"Yup."

Iggy sighed, he could envision their future. Fang would drop bombs on Middle Eastern countries for a living, and he'd work with melo-dramatic pop stars. What a glamourous life.

He felt Fang's lips press against his own once more, and he couldn't help but wonder, why were they doing this? And what was this?

They obviously had feelings for each other, feelings strong enough to give Fang nightmares and wake Iggy up in the middle of the night to help him banish them. But what did it mean? Were they... having a relationship, in some weird way?

Boyfriend and boyfriend, even?

Honestly, he felt like they were. They were sleeping in the same bed for one thing, not to mention their tendency to spend as much time with each other as possible, talking and hugging and kissing. This obviously wasn't normal behavior, even for two people in their positions.

"Fang," he asked after a moment, "what are we?"

"Fang and Iggy," another shrug.

"No," Iggy said in a slightly irked way, "what are you and I? Like... you know, together?"

He could hear a small noise come out of Fang's mouth, as if he was going to say something then thought the better of it.

After a paused, he said, quite firmly, "Yes, we are."

Fang's words shocked Iggy, because honestly he hadn't been expecting them. He'd been expecting more of an ambiguous answer, the kind one usually got from Fang, but instead he'd gotten almost exactly what he'd wanted (and probably needed) to hear. Amazing. A break through, even.

"Another thing," Iggy could almost feel Fang cringe as he spoke again, "And not to sound pushy or anything, but when can we... y'know, tell them?"

This time, Fang's loss for words was much longer, and more drawn out.

"Ig, I don't know if they're ready to hear it.

"If I'm ready to tell them," he added momentarily.

Had Iggy been in the mood to tease, he would have praised his usually stoic friend for identifying a feeling other than annoyance, anger or boredom, but seeing as he wasn't, he did the only thing he could do, he pulled Fang closer and kissed his hair softly.

"I love you." He whispered quietly as the sounds of New York filled his ears.

Fang said nothing.

A/N: Things should go a lot faster now, I've revised my chapter plan and I think we can finish by chapter eighteen. (Not to mention I've got three already written chapters. Yay for vacations!) Plus, things are definitely going to pick up as far as action goes. There'll be a big event in the next chapter, guaranteed to leave you hanging.

I'm also going to be replying to reviews now, just before I update my chapter. Because otherwise I forget whom I already replied to and get very confused. Thanks, though, guys! You're definitely motivating me to write more!