A/N: Pen name change! I will now be: Mercy Me Its Ashley. TearsofEcstasy was just getting too emo. ;)

Chapter VIII: Awkward Moments and Stolen Heartache

Max had originally wanted them to stay together, in a group or something, for saftey. But Fang had other ideas.

Instead, he'd ignored her desperate pleading and run ahead of the group. Far, far ahead of the group. A good mile, he ventured to guess. He'd run till his lungs nearly collapsed, till he was dizzy to the point of fainting. But he wouldn't- couldn't- stop. For one thing, he couldn't bear to be there another minute with the Flock, trying to plan out a plan of action when something was obviously wrong. And for another, Iggy needed him, and he wasn't going to let Iggy down.

And so Fang kept running, past the trees and the garbage and the rocks, through shallow puddles and bushes. The stench of sweat and chemicals- the smell of Eraser- surrounded everything him. Vicious tears in the barks of trees, beaten down twigs and dead grass and shrubbery told him he was gong in the right direction. Erasers couldn't go anywhere without destroying everything in their path, and that, Fang was thankful for. For once in his life.

But even as he attempted to track his way through the thicket of trees, his thought train was interrupted continually as visions of Iggy flickered past his vision. Iggy smiling, Iggy crying, Iggy laying in their bed, Iggy with a broken wing, Iggy with a broken leg, Iggy with a broken neck, Iggy bleeding, Iggy dying, Iggy dead-

He sucked in a deep breath, and then let it out slowly. No, he told himself, forcing the image out of his mind, he's not dead. Nudge said he was breathing.

But what if he'd died since then? The thought arose, to his horror. But still, he managed to keep a somewhat positive outlook. No, he can't, he wouldn't go without a fight. He wouldn't do that. Not to me.

Fang bit his tongue and forced himself to focus on his breathing, which was suppose to be calming. And he found it was. Because didn't think of Iggy again. In fact, he didn't think about anything at all. For the first time in a long time, his head was completely clear. In, out, in, out, in, out.

The feeling of ignorant bliss was wonderful, especially since this morning's events. In fact, he felt the best he had in a long, long time... In, out, in, out.

So calm, so peaceful... At least, until he was rocketed back to reality and reminded of exactly why he was there. Because as he fell into a small clearing, he found himself staring at a pale, white body amongst the green grass.

Fang's heart skipped a beat- several in fact- as he saw Iggy once again. The boy's crumpled body laying in a folded position, his legs bent towards his left, and his torso curling towards his hips in a half-fetal position. He looked... unfinished, in a way. Like the scene that had unfolded was only half of what was suppose to happen.

Fang stood, staring at his friend's unmoving body for a few moments, trying to slow his breath down and make himself return to that ignorant bliss once more, but it wasn't working. The sight of Iggy's unconscious figure simply wouldn't let him. Even when he closed his eyes, he saw Iggy. His messy, reddish hair laying in contrast to the green grass, and left arm laid across the ground, showing it's white under side, and his fist, half open-half curled.

It was heart wrenching, to be completely honest. Fang had seen more gruesome scenes at the school, filled with blood and bones and all sorts of horror, but this one moved him the most. Without the gore.

Finally, unable to hold himself back any longer, Fang allowed himself to fall to his knees, simply allowing his body to buckle under the emotional pressure. Not at all coincidently, right next to Iggy. He squeezed his eyes shut briefly- if only for a moment- afraid of what he might see, before exhaling deeply and opening his watery brown eyes up once more.

Looking closer, he could see Iggy's head was bleeding, both from the temple and a nasty looking gash in the back. Bright scarlet head-blood seemed to have seeped even into the grass around him.

Fang felt sick. His stomach churned and his heart ached, his head was pierced with a violent headache that over powered him so much it was all he could do to put his hands out in front of him and try to support his weight. Praying he wouldn't lose it right then and there. His chest racketing with sob like breaths, he was finally able to bring himself up right and force down the nausea sweeping though his stomach.

"Oh god," Fang's lower lip trembled and his eyes were moist with tears that threatened to spill.

He placed a gentle hand on Iggy's cheek, which felt as if it were burning with fever. In fact, Fang realized his entire face was flushed with feverishness. Obviously, a little gash was the least of Iggy's problems. He was sick. Very, very sick.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice shaking and his heart tearing into a thousand tiny pieces as he spoke. He let himself sit, stroking Iggy's cheek, hoping with all his will that he might wake up and laugh. Tell him everything was okay. But nothing, save the rise and fall of his stomach.

Waves of panic and sickness circulated a new through his body, causing his hands to began to tremble as he slipped his arms beneath Iggy, one under his shoulders, another beneath his limp legs. He pulled the taller boy towards him, into his embrace, disregarding the blood on his hands and the distant sound of approaching footsteps. Lost in Iggy's hair, his mouth, his everything. Lost in Iggy, chest aching with the emptiness he felt inside.

"I promise," Fang whispered, gently kissing Iggy's forehead and cradling his body close to his chest, feeling his slow, steady, hot breath against his neck, and the beating of his heart against his own. The type of steadfast tempo his own seemed to be lacking, "I'll never let his happen again."

The footsteps were coming closer, he could hear them. And their voices on the wind. The Flock was coming, help was coming.

"Fang!" He heard Max cry, her voice was strained between anger and despondent hopelessness.

"Are you two okay?" She managed, the loud snapping of a twig told him she had taken a step closer, and her words told him that she could see Iggy's broken body in his arms.

"I am," Fang said breathless as he pushed up on one knee, staggering shakily for a second before gaining his footing once more. He took a deep breath, looking long and hard at Iggy's face once more. "But Iggy's not."

"I'm sorry, Fang," Max said, patting his arm gently.

But Fang didn't hear her, he was staring out the window. Thinking of all the things that were never going to happen again. He and Iggy would never be able to play again, they'd never read another comic book together, everything was going to change. Absolutely everything.

Now he knew those fears were foolish, but then, the possibility of losing his friend to blindness seemed very, very real.

"Don't drop him!" Max warned as the small group carefully picked their way through the rubble, some of which Gazzy and Angel had managed to clear away, some of which was still left for them to trip over. It looked a lot like a war zone (well, technically it was), with all the scorched bits of rock and concrete everywhere, some chemical reeking Eraser blood, not much though.

Fang grunted in response, not caring how standoffish and rude it was. Because honestly, he'd marry Ari before he dropped Iggy, and she knew that very well. And Fang felt degraded that Max would imply otherwise.

But then again, she didn't know exactly how much he cared about him. And Fang cared about Iggy a lot. Enough that he'd nearly been sick at the thought of losing him all over again.

"Max-"

"Shh!" That was, ironically, Nudge, shushing Angel. Under normal conditions, he might have laughed. But, seeing as under current conditions he was carrying an unconscious Iggy in his arms, he thought laughing might be a bit inappropriate.

Max had tried to say something about splitting Iggy's weight between the two of them earlier, but Fang refused to hear it. He was fine as it was, and a strange protective- almost possessive-ness had overcome him. He wanted no one else to touch Iggy. His Iggy.

And no one said anything, because they all knew once Fang was set in his ways, there was no way of convincing him otherwise.

"Here," Max said, trying to be helpful and dusting bits of plaster off of the couch, which had thankfully survived the blast with little to no damage. Otherwise they'd be trying to squeeze Iggy onto one of those teeny-tiny cots, which obviously was not going to happen.

Gently, and slightly reluctantly, Fang laid the taller boy down on the dusty couch. As he did so, he was careful to support his head under the arm of the couch, elevating his feet on the other end. He didn't know where he'd heard it, but he knew elevating someone's feet in the case of an accident of this nature somehow helped the healing process.

He sighed, wishing he could press his lips to Iggy's once more, though knowing that the Flock probably wasn't ready for that. So instead, he furrowed his brow and forced himself to think about the business at hand.

From there, he got his first proper chance to examine Iggy medically. Fang found a long, and not at all, deep scratch on his leg, what felt like a cracked rib, and he pretended to take note of the cut on his forehead and the gash in the back of his head. He wasn't bleeding much anymore, if at all, but Fang supposed it was a fairly bad injury, seeing as Iggy was still asleep. His eyes were closed, and it felt like is pulse had all but come to a close, not to mention the limpness in his limbs, but he was still breathing. Long, deep breaths. He was still alive.

"What do you think happened?" Max whispered as she crouched next to Fang, pointing out Iggy's head wound.

"Probably Ari," he answered surely. Even as he said the name, uncontrollable rage began to bubble up inside of him, thoughts of that, that thing, hurting him. Oh, the things he wanted to do to that monster.

But the fault wasn't completely Ari's, he had to share in the blame too. If only he'd paid more attention to his damn dream! Which had obviously been meant to warn him of what was to happen in the near future. But even when he'd seen Ari, back from the dead, the thought hadn't crossed his mind that this just might be his nightmare made manifest. Could he be anymore of an idiot?

Bitterly, his thoughts turned back to this afternoon, and what Ari'd said to him.

"Jealous?"

"Of you two fa-" But in his head, Fang had already finished his sentence. Fags, that's what he called them. Fags. Or maybe he'd even finish the whole word, faggots. What an ugly word, a horribly ugly, vile, sinister word.

You should be jealous, Ari, you wolfy monster, he thought bitingly, because I've got someone when you've got no one.

Max didn't say anything about his accusation, but he knew she was probably agreeing with him. Ari hated them, hated them all with such a passion there was no need to think of a motive, it was already there. Pure, fiery, hatred.

"Max?" Nudge said quietly as she stepped in from the shadows, "What can we do?" She and the others had been so unusually quiet, he'd almost forgotten they'd existed.

"Oh, guys, I don't-" Max began to protest, knowing her she probably thought they were too young to understand, and that they'd best run off to bed while the older kids dealt with this. Honestly, Fang had to disagree. If they wanted to do something to help out (and they should) so the better for them.

"But we want to," Gazzy piped in, cutting the older girl off, "We really want to help."

Max looked at them, and she looked as if her heart had melted at the sight of their earnest, concerned faces, "C'mon," she choked, "I'm sure RiteAid is still open."

She stood up and took either of them by the arm, guiding them towards the gaping hole in the wall they now used as a door, taking one slight detour to grab a tin can that jingled when she picked it up. Max's savings, obviously.

Fang couldn't help snorting, as if a simple trip to RiteAid was going to fix anything. The problems Iggy was having weren't the kind that Advil and some R&R were going to fix.

Nudge shot Iggy a worried look, and gave Fang a somewhat cheerful wave and a smile that obviously said "maybe things will turn out okay?"

He counted to five after they left before he let out a breath of emotion, worry and complete, despondent hopelessness.

In that one breath, he'd finally started let it all out, his anger at Ari, the asshole who did this, his annoyance at Max, for seeming so flippant, and his hopeless, crushing, sadness and worry about how this might turn out.

He opened his mouth to try to say something, perhaps to Iggy, perhaps to himself, or no one in particular but all that came out was a croak like moan. So instead he put his hand up to his mouth and bit down firmly on the skin of his index finger, concentrating as hard as possible on the pain he felt on the outside, and not the fear he felt on the inside.

It'd only taken a moment for the panic to set in. The panic that maybe Iggy wouldn't make it through, that he might be dying in front of him, and there was nothing he could do. Fang's fear of change was sweeping over him, consuming him in such a way he felt he might die from the sheer weight of it all.

"Fang?" He nearly jumped at the sound of Angel's soft, sweet voice behind him.

"What?" he choked, sounding entirely too emotional for his own tastes.

"He's gonna be okay, you know that?" she said, putting her small hand on his shoulder encouragingly.

"Thanks, Angel," he mumbled absently, with an air so flippant it was nearly opaque.

"Fang," she said firmly, more seriously this time, "I mean it, he's going to be okay."

"Huh?" The realization was finally hitting Fang, this was Angel, the mind reading, mutant girl, saying this. She wasn't trying to be nice, she was entirely serious.

"I can feel his thoughts, he's thinking about you," she said in a soft, reassuring voice. He wanted to know more, he wanted to know everything about what was going on in Iggy's head, but he decided pushing Angel was not a good idea for the time being. She was only six after all, there was no sense in using her as some type of medium between him and his sleeping friend.

"He loves you," She added, sitting back down in the armchair which was much too big for her. He was amazed at the way she said it so easily, he loves you. Like it were no big deal that they were two boys, in love.

But that's the beauty of the innocent, Fang supposed, to them, love- in any form- was true.

He wanted to say something to her, to thank her, but he found himself tongue tied, unable to say anything without the fear he'd burst into tears. So instead, he gave her a quick nod, which she seemed to understand as having a more serious meaning.

"He loves you," He played the words over in his head again.

I know he does, Fang thought to himself, taking a deep breath and letting himself relax, just a little bit.

"Go on," Max said, gently shoving Nudge and Gazzy towards the debris covered hole in the wall, "I've just go to check on something."

She could see the dim, flickering light of a candle, and hear the long, awkward silence. Which told her two things A) Fang and Angel were still awake and B) Iggy was still asleep. Which was, in two words, not good.

Because, in fact, it probably meant that Iggy was not simply asleep, and that the gash on his head was not actually a surface wound, but much more serious. He was hurt- badly- and they had to do something to help him.

"Max?" Nudge asked, turning her head towards the older girl before stepping over the rubble into their so-called home, "Honestly, now, don't go easy on me," she warned with a bit of a tease and a smile.

But then her voice turned serious again, "D'you think Iggy's going to make it?"

She just had to ask.

I hope so, Max wanted to say, because that was the truth. She hoped so, but she had no idea if her hopes would come true. Despite Nudge's wishes, though, she couldn't bring herself to dampen the other girl's spirits, and instead answered with a bright, cheery attitude to mask the feeling of her insides turning at another lie.

"Of course," she flashed Nudge a big, fake smile to go with her big, fake lie.

Thankfully, Nudge didn't seem to realize the true nature of Max's words, and she gave her a small, somewhat thankful, nod before joined Gazzy in the warehouse.

When she was sure they'd all gone, Max turned back and quickly made her way past the forest of trees. She was headed towards the bus stop, which was about a quarter of a mile away. Nothing compared to the distances she'd gone before.

She wanted to run there, to let out all her tension and anger and energy with a good run, but at the same time she knew she'd draw eyes to her if she did run. Eyes which may or may not belong to Erasers.

So, instead, she kept up a light, walking pace while her mind did the running for her.

How had the Erasers found them? Why had they just taken Iggy? Did he, like Angel, have some type of special place in the School's plan? What was wrong with him, why hadn't he woken up? Was he ever going to wake up?

She took a long, deep breath, assuring herself over and over again all things would come, eventually, to her. Even if she didn't like the answers.

When she reached the bus stop, she was pleased to find no one there, or at the phone booth nearby. The more privacy the better.

Quietly, she locked herself away in the grimy phone booth, hoping no one had seen her. She, then, took a small slip of paper out of her coat pocket. On it were ten digits. A phone number.

She dialed the numbers, (with a 1-800 in front of them, of course. She was not about to pay their outrages fees for one phone call,) listening to the beeping tones in the ear piece of the phone as she did so.

Brring. She held her breath.

Brring.

Please pick up, please pick up, Max thought over and over again to herself, hoping the next dial tone would be the last.

Brr-

"Hello?" The voice on the other end was smooth and sweet, sounding quite happy, in fact. It was the voice of a confidant, single, working mother. The only person Max would ever dare to call a mother.

"Dr. Martinez?"

"Yes, this is she... who's this?" Max felt her heart drop ever so slightly, but convinced herself that it was only natural. She'd visited her months ago, and she'd only been there for two days. It wasn't like she'd remember her winged visitor by voice alone.

"Um, Max. Maximum Ride."

"Max! Oh, Max, how are you? Do you want to talk to Ella? I'll get her-"

"No!" Max snapped quickly, no matter how much she liked Ella, now was not the time to speak with her, "I mean... please, I'd like to talk to you."

"Oh," she said slowly, quickly realizing something wasn't right, "So, what's up?"

"Um, a lot." Wow, that sounded stupid, Max thought to herself.

"Doesn't sound good."

"Well... there is this one thing."

"This one thing..." Dr. Martinez repeated.

"I don't know if you'll be able to help us."

"Shoot."

"It's one of my brothers. Today, we were attacked by Erasers-"

"Erasers?"

"Monsters, mutants. Bad mutants. Who want to kill us."

"Ah... I see."

"Anyways, we don't really know what happened, but he has this gash on the back of his head and he hasn't woken up since."

"Oh... oh." She sounded very taken aback, but Max was thankful she was at least realizing how grave the situation was and not brushing it off as some goofy kids getting themselves into trouble.

"Max... that's pretty serious."

"Yeah, no kidding."

"And where are you, again?"

"New York," she breathed.

"New York City?" the older woman thought for a second, "Actually... I think I have an old colleague from med school there who might be able to help. Where are you in New York?"

"Um, near the Bronx, I think."

"Hmm," she seemed to be considering something, and at that moment she switched into what Max would later call her "doctor mode."

"Alright, listen, I'll drop Ella off at her grandmother's and get the quickest flight out of here, I'll see if I can get there by morning. I'll have to call my colleague first, but I think he'll be willing to help. I'm going to have to ask you a few questions, though." She was talking fast, a lot like the doctors on the TV did. Then again, Max suddenly realized, she was a vet, the only difference was the furriness of the patients.

"Sure." Max said, sounding not at all sure.

"Does he... have wings too?"

"Mmm-hmm." Scribbles on the other end, she was writing this down.

"How old is he?"

"Fourteen, almost fifteen." That's right, his birthday was coming up.

"Approximate height?"

"Six foot four."

"Weight?"

"Um, I really don't know. He's pretty skinny though."

"I see. Any previous head injuries?"

"He had a surgery when he was nine, it was suppose to enhance his night vision. But he's been blind ever since then."

"Okay, good. That's important. Anything else I need to know?"

"Um, it looks like he might have a cracked rib."

"Okay, I'll- Oh! One thing! I'm going to need to know, exactly where are you in the Bronx?"

Max gave her some general directions towards their warehouse, though she wasn't sure how helpful she was going to be. She didn't even know what street they lived on, let alone the house number. Why was she getting so sloppy?

"I'll talk to you tomorrow, sweetheart, okay? Bye." Max could hear Dr. Martinez hang up on the other end. Max wasn't quite sure how much she liked Dr. Martinez in doctor mode. She reminded her a lot of the whitecoats. Always worrying and rushing about everything. Then again, this wasn't something to be casual about.

Max was just leaving the phone booth when it hit her. Dr. Martinez had called her sweetheart.

From there, everything just sort of imploded.

Jeb called her sweetheart, she recalled, back in Colorado... and today even, he'd called her sweetheart. And now, thanks to him and his goons, the Flock was about to lose a member, Gazzy was going to lose his idol, Nudge was going to lose her reading partner (the two spent many a night up, her reading to him, and he listening), Angel, the boy who'd grown more and more like a father since Jeb's absence, Fang, his best friend and confidant, and she, Maximum Ride, was about to fail them all.

Tears of self-pity rolled down her face but she refused to cry out or crumble to her knees and let her emotions win. She would not be weak, she had to be strong. For the others. For herself. She had to be.

It's okay to cry, Maximum, her old friend, the Voice told her, crying is natural.

You don't cry when you're the leader, she thought bitterly.

Then maybe it's time to stop being the leader and start being a person again.

The voice said it, and she knew it was true.

And so, she, Maximum Ride, allowed herself to fall to her knees in the middle of the grove of trees and cry as she'd never cried before. She cried for Angel, and for when she'd nearly been lost. She cried for Gazzy, and how his innocence seemed to be stolen away right in front of their eyes. She cried for Nudge, and how everyday her voice grew more and more hollow. She cried for Fang, and how he'd drawn so much into himself it seemed he couldn't even feel anymore. She cried for Iggy, and for letting him down in his time of need.

But mostly- selfishly- she cried for herself.

Max still remembered the first time she'd seen Iggy blind. They'd wrapped gauze around his head, to give the scar tissue more time to heal. But all the same, he looked miserable.

Had his eyes not been firmly covered in bandages, he probably would have been crying.

"Iggy?" she'd said softly, coming up next to him.

"Yes? Max, is that you?" he swivelled his head so he could face her.

"Yes, it's me. And-" she was about to say "and Fang", but behind her she could hear the swishing of the door, and the sound of a choked sob. It seemed the sight was too hard for him to bear.

"What was that?" Iggy asked, turning his head wildly as if that would help him hear the disturbance in the room.

"Nothing," she assured him, "Just the wind."

After she'd put herself back together, Max marched on homeward. Determined not to let the other see her cry, she picked her way slowly over the rubble. Stall for time, to make sure the red rimmed quality to her eyes wouldn't give away too much.

She'd fully expected everyone to be asleep when she got there, and they all were, except for Fang. Who was sitting by Iggy's bedside- couch side- looking worried. At first, she was all ready to walk over and put her hand on his shoulder and comfort him as best she could. But something stopped her in her tracks.

She watched, shocked, as Fang stood up and bent over Iggy, pressing his lips to the unconscious boy's own. It wasn't the kiss that shocked her, it was the nature. He'd kissed him much longer and harder than was necessary- even between close friends, a kiss in a time like this was okay, but never one with such... emotion- and the entire time he seemed to be choking back tears. Completely unlike Fang.

She took a step closer, hoping to come up behind Fang and surprise him, that way she'd get the chance to properly talk with him. But, unfortunately, she managed to knock over the trash can with her foot. Which landed on the floor with a loud clatter.

She winced at the noise she made, and nearly laughed as Fang jumped up in surprise and glared at her accusingly.

"Sorry," she said softly, stepping closer yet again, "I didn't mean to... intrude."

Fang said nothing and only turned back to sleeping Iggy before sitting down once more.

"Fang..." she said, coming closer to him with each breath, "is there something you're not telling me?"

Nothing from the stoic boy.

"I swear, Fang, I'm not... I'm not going to be judgement or disapproving about it, if that's what you think."

Silence.

"Please...?" she sighed knowing it was pointless. She resigned, at least for the time being and instead just sat in another folding chair by Fang's side. The two sat there, neither daring to speak, or even think, about what happened. Afraid of what the other would do

Fang probably fearing whether or not she'd approve, Max fearing whether or not she'd say the right then.

"I have to ask, at least," the blonde girl said after a minute, swivelling her upper body towards him, her confidence and authority a new, "how much do you care about Iggy?"

For the first time since the incident started, Fang looked at her straight in the eye with his own watery brown orbs and told her, in the most serious and emotional tone she'd ever heard him speak in, "I love him."

He said it, and she knew it was so.

A/N: I'm turning Max somewhat human now, as you can see. There'll definitely be some more Max-centric bits in upcoming chapters. And yes, I will definitely be updating more! I've written out a few more chapters... just gotta get some editing done.