What up my hommie readers! I hope you guys are likin' the story so far. Thanks a lot for sending your reviews and I hope you send even more. Well, here's the fourteenth chapter! I hope you love it! Maximum Ride rocks!

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The School was a horrible place for a young boy of seven years should stay at. The young boy that sat at the right side of his cage rolled up into a little ball, holding his legs close to his chest with his dark eyes closed so that he could enjoy a nice rest before the domented whitecoats took him away to be experimented on.

"Evil bastards," the young boy whispered underneath his breath. He looked over his back as he winced in pain. "It even hurts just to look back. Those son of b-tches." (Sorry. I just don't have the heart to write the actual word.)

The little boy placed his right hand on his back, feeling the smooth black wings that were attached to his back. The young boy bit his lip to keep himself from crying out in agony. The whitecoats at this stupid School just planted them on his back this morning, about two hours ago, and his back was still aching with pain. He felt like spreading them out, seeing if he could actually move them, but all he could do, was make them twitch slightly.

"Oh well," the little boy sighed. "Just something I'm gonna have to get use to. Maybe the pain will go away tomorrow morning."

Suddenly, the door to the room opened as he heard squeaky wheels and shoes clasping against the cold, hard floor enter the room. He shifted his gaze to look at what was going on behind him, but all he could see, was a whitecoats shoes and pants standing at the cage he was trapped in.

'If they're going to start experimenting on me some more, I'm seriously going to give them a piece of my mind,' the little boy thought.

A medium-sized cage was dropped across from the little boy. A 'humph' was heard while he witnessed the whitecoat kicking the front of the cage, silencing whoever or whatever was in there.

The whitecoat left the room with the squeaky cart that was holding up the cage. The little boy looked towards the cage that was set across from him, making sure that his gaze stayed hidden so that whoever was in there didn't know that he was looking at them.

It was dark inside the cage, but the little boy could still kind of see who was inside. It was another little boy. About the same age as him. He looked exhausted and angry, but untouched by the chemicals and tools that these sickoes used on innocent kids like them. He was lucky. At least he didn't have to go through the throbbing pain that the little boy felt on his back.

"What are you looking at?" the boy in the cage asked smugly.

The little boy turned around completely so to get a better look at the boy in the cage across from him. "Nothing," he answered.

The boy got up from his sitting position and looked through his cage, getting a better look at the young boy. He was dark and had a dark complexion even though he was no older than seven. The boy in the cage did like the way he looked though. (Not in that way you sick pervs!)

"Who are you? What do they call you in this dump?" the young boy asked.

The black winged boy looked up at his partner, pondering at the thought of whether he should tell him who he was or not. After spending his whole life at the dreaded School, the young boy learned to never befriend or trust anyone. There was no such thing as a friend.

"They call me Miles," the young boy told the dark winged boy. The winged boy looked up at the boy locked in the cage in front of him. "because I can go miles and miles without even tiring. And I always try to escape this stupid School and the farthest I've gotten was a mile. I know it doesn't sound that far, but it's pretty much the farthest anyone has ever gotten without getting sliced and diced by Erasers or killed while they were trying to escape."

The winged boy looked up at the one called Miles and raised his eyebrow in confusion.

'Why is he telling me all this information? Hasn't he learned that you can't really trust anyone at this School?'

"So, what's your name?" Miles asked, feeling a little more comfortable talking with the winged boy.

'Should I tell him or not?'

"M-my name is—"

Just then, the sliding doors to the room that Miles and the winged boy were in swooshed open. The same whitecoat that brought Miles in walked in once more, this time with two food trays in each hand that were for the boys.

"Alright maggots, feeding time," the whitecoat announced, setting the food tray in his right hand down. He reached into his pocket to take out a chain of keys, flipping to the right one.

He opened up the black winged boy's cage slightly and quickly slipped in the tray. The winged boy just glared up at him and then looked down at the food tray that hardly had any food on it.

"Have a nice meal." The whitecoat smirked. He then turned to the cage that was behind him and got out the right key.

Miles folded his arms across his chest, looking at the whitecoat. "I'm feeling really carnivorous today, dude. How 'bout some good ol' cheeseburgers with freshly cooked fries and a side of ranch dressing to dip 'um in."

The whitecoat smirked and the winged boy couldn't help but chuckle slightly. Miles' cage opened and in came the tray of unidentified mashed up foods.

Miles looked down at the food in disappointment and sighed. "Or, you can give me mush, like you do every meal."

"Chef's recommended," the whitecoat teased, holding up an okay sign with his fingers before walking out of the room.

The winged boy looked back at Miles as if he were crazy. "Cheeseburgers and fries with ranch?"

Miles shrugged his shoulders. "Seven years of living here, you think they'd get sick of giving you the same crap. I'm just giving them ideas on stuff they should be feeding us."

The winged boy rolled his eyes as he grabbed his mushy meal, but winced once again. He couldn't even reach for his food.

"Stupid wings," he muttered.

Miles cocked an eyebrow. "Wings? What are you talking about?"

The winged boy looked towards Miles.

'Crap! Now he knows what they've done to me!'

"You have wings!" Miles yelled. The winged boy looked at Miles and decided there was no reason to lie, spreading out his black wings, which were sending a great pain through his body.

"It hurts to move them. I just got 'em this morning," he told him.

"Dude! That is awesome!" Miles cried, pumping his fist in the air, only to have it collide with the top of the cage. "Ow! Stupid, small cage."

The winged boy couldn't help but smile.

--

"Leave me alone! I don't wanna go! You'll never take me alive!" Miles screamed, kicking his legs and swinging his fist as he tried to break free from the whitecoats grip.

"Let him go!" Fang yelled, punching his fist against the whitecoats abdominal, tears streaming down his face. "You're not going to experiment on him again! He almost didn't come back alive the last time you experimented on him! Let him go!"

The whitecoat couldn't take any more of this and was about to call for help when help already arrived.

Two whitecoats dashed into the room, grabbing hold of the crying Fang and separating him from Miles and the other whitecoat.

"Miles!" Fang screamed, his eyes turning red and puffy from the tears that leaked out.

The two whitecoats holding onto him covered his mouth with their hands.

"Listen you little maggot. If you don't settle down any time soon, then we'll make sure that the experiment we're about to do on your little boyfriend won't be a successful one." One of the whitecoats taunted.

Fang's body froze as he looked over at Miles. He didn't want his best friend to die in an experiment, but he also wanted to help him. But if he wanted Miles to come back alive, he couldn't really do anything.

"Fang! Help me!" Miles screamed, tears now streaming down him face. Fang was released by the two whitecoats, seeing if he'll make the right decision.

Fang looked at Miles for a while before he turned his head away, his eyes closing shut and his fist clenching.

Miles gasped as the whitecoat that was holding onto him took him away.

--

Fang watched nervously at the door that the whitecoats stepped out of with Miles. He felt awful for not doing anything to help his buddy out, but what could he do? If he did something, then the whitecoats were going to kill him.

"Argh!" Fang yelled, punching a nearby cage. "What the hell is taking them so long?" He looked back at the door. "They better not have killed him. If they killed him, I swear to God, Jesus, the Virgin Mary, and whoever the hell else is up there that I'll kill them. I'll make those whitecoats wish they've never been born!"

Suddenly, the door that Miles and the whitecoats walked out of opened with Miles stepping inside.

Fang gasped in shock and relief when he saw that Miles was alright. "Dude! You're okay! I thought they killed you!" he said, giving Miles a hug. (It takes true men to hug each other! Even if they're only seven.)

Just then, out of nowhere, Miles pushed Fang away from him, making him fall flat on his butt to the hard ground.

Fang looked up at Miles with a shocked look on his face. "What the hell was that for?"

"You flippin' bastard!" Miles yelled making Fang flinch. "You left me when I needed you! I needed you help and you just let them take me away! What kind of person abandons his friend!? You left me!"

Fang got up. "But—you have to understand, Miles. They said that they weren't going to let you survive if I tried to help you. I couldn't do anything. I'm sorry."

Miles sent a penetrating glare towards Fang before he spoke in a furious tone. "I would've rather died then go through what they've made me into now."

Fang cocked his eyebrow and then looked at Miles like he was over-exaggerating. "Oh, come on. What could've they done to you that was so bad?"

Miles was silent as he turned his back on Fang, facing the sliding door. "Something that'll scar me for life. Something that won't make me the same ever again."

Fang stood puzzled as he saw Miles walk out the door. But before he left, he witnessed black wings with red tips spreading fully until the door began to close.

"I'll never forgive you for this, Fang. From now on, we're rivals. And don't you forget it."

And with that, the door finally closed.

"Miles!"

--

"Fang. Dude, wake up!"

Fang's eyes shot open as he saw Miles, this time at his normal, fourteen-year-old self hovering above him.

"Miles?"

Miles looked down at the awoken Fang and then gave him a taunting smirk. "Dreaming about me?"

Fang cocked his eyebrow as he rose to a sitting position. "Why the hell would I dream about your ugly-ass self?" he spat.

The smirk on Miles face never left his face as he began to act-out Fang. " 'Miles! Miles!' 'Miles, are you okay?' 'Miles, I thought I was never going to see you again!' 'Oh, Miles, I was so worried about you!' " he mocked while Fang's face began to blush slightly. "Did you know you talk in your sleep, dude? Quite loudly in fact. It's hilarious! The only time you actually sound so weak and vulnerable."

Fang glared at Miles while he gave him a teasing smirk. "It's kinda cute, actually."

"Shut up!" Fang yelled, sending a punch to Miles face, but was stopped by Max's hand.

"Please, Fang. We all just woke up. Let's not get into fights this early," she told him, letting go of his fist. Fang lowered it to his side, but was still sending a dark glare at Miles.

Miles placed a comforting hand on Fang's shoulder. "Sorry to crush you like this, dude. I like you, but not in the way you might like me in your dreams. I'm straight."

"What the hell is that suppose to mean!" Fang screamed in a totally un-Fang-like way and was now blushing from extreme embarrassment.

Miles just gave him a smirk as he walked down the theater to stretch out his legs.

"That cocky little—" Fang growled, his fist clenching tightly until they began to pop.

"Fang."

Fang looked over at Gasman. "What is it?"

"Does Miles think you're gay?" he asked.

Fang looked over at Miles and then looked back at Gasman. "Yeah, he does. It's just so he could mess with me."

Gasman looked away for a while until he looked back at Fang. "Are you gay?"

Fang almost stumbled to the ground. "NO!" he yelled. "What the hell makes you think that?"

"Well, Miles was right about you talking in your sleep. And you said his name multiply times as if you were worried or happy and—I don't think straight guys dream about other guys that way."

Fang grumbled before he told Gasman his answer. "I'm not gay, Gasman. I was just having a dream that had to do with something between Miles and me when we were younger."

"Oh. Okay." Gasman walked off.

Great. Now everyone thinks that I'm gay. Stupid sleep-talking!

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Well, I hope you guys liked this chappie. But before you guys start asking, no, I'm not making Fang or Miles gay. They're both straight. Miles just acts like he has a small crush on Fang just to get on his nerves. So if I ever right anything in future chapters about Fang and Miles that seems like slash, just keep on telling yourselves that they're not gay and that it's just something that I feel like writing since I get really into the boy/boy friendship thing. Oh, yeah! And before I forget, this was kinda written in third person instead of Max's first person. Just thought I'd make that clear. Anyway, I'll post more soon and I'll try to put in as much Fax as I could. Until then, peace!