Chapter Three: What Happened

I turned back to face Fang as my mom exited the room, ever so subtly closing the door behind her. His sheepish grin mirrored my own. "How are you feeling?" I asked him, my previous question forgotten.

"I'm ok," was his response.

"Oh, come on. You can't be serious," I replied incredulously. "You look like crap. Your arm and leg, and by the looks of it, your hand," I continued, gesturing to the swollen, discolored mass that was his right hand. I was still holding on to his left one which remained thankfully uninjured, "are broken. God knows how damaged your wings are, not to mention the cuts and bruises covering nearly every inch of your body. You can't tell me you're not in pain."

"I've had worse," he replied simply. That was Fang for you, hiding his feelings as always. I guess I shouldn't be complaining- I'm not that much better than he is when it comes to showing signs of weakness. We were all pretty tough. We had to be. I used to be able to count on one hand the times the Flock had seen me cry, but lately, it seems as though I've run out of fingers.

We fell into a companionable silence, both lost in our own thoughts. Neither of us felt the need to fill every break in conversation with words, unlike some people or should I say bird kids, I know.

"Max," Fang began, breaking the silence.

"Hmm?" I murmured as he pulled me out of my thoughts.

"I need to talk to you… about what happened," he continued, sounding almost unsure. Hesitant.

"What did happen, Fang? Are you all right?" I asked, worried again.

"I'm fine…" he said cautiously. Making it sound like someone undoubtedly wasn't.

"Then who?" I asked in confusion, my concern escalating at the seemingly endless possibilities. What if they were after my mother again? Or Ella? Or what if it was Gazzy next? Iggy? Nudge? Angel? I shuddered at the thought of them touching my little girl. Even though she's tough, there's no way she could last as long as Fang. She'd probably be fine as long as she could control their minds and make them turn on each other or commit suicide, but it was still hard to envision all the same.

"You, Max. You."

Oh, was all I could think. I couldn't say I was surprised, really. Wanting to capture the ever-so-special Maximum Ride has been a reoccurring theme throughout my fifteen years of existence. Better me than the rest of my flock, though. I don't know what I'd do if anything ever happened to them… But I wouldn't go down without a fight, which meant they'd probably get dragged into it too… No, I could not let that happen.

"Max? You okay?" He asked, not sounding that okay himself.

"Yeah," I responded, hiding my doubts. He knew me so well that I'm sure he could see through my lie, but he didn't call me on it. "Tell me what happened, Fang. Everything."

And so he did. He told me of the seemingly invincible army of mutants, how their voices were dead, lifeless. How he wouldn't turn me over to them, no matter how much they beat him.

o.O.O.O.o

"Fang?" I asked a few minutes after he finished.

"What?" He responded sleepily.

I chickened out. "Do you think one of Gaz and Ig's bombs would do the trick and take some of them out?"

"I dunno, maybe," he replied thoughtfully.

We fell back into silence.

"Fang?" I tried again.

"Yeah?" he said, sensing my discomfort.

"Why'd you do it? Not give me away, I mean. I could've taken care of myself," I continued, immediately regretting it.

He looked at me as if it was obvious. "Max," he answered, his voice softening. "How could I live with myself if I let them take you?"

"You'd do just fine without me," I mumbled, wanting to believe his words. I mean sure, we were sort of together now, but did he really love me so much that he would be willing to sacrifice himself in order to keep me safe?

"No, Max. You still don't get it. I wouldn't."

Before I could reply, not that I had a witty comeback ready, for I was still processing his words; he pulled me closer with the hand I was still holding tight.

When we were merely inches from each other, he whispered, "I love you. Max." Then, somehow, our lips met. He kissed me gently, and though I felt him wince in pain, he did not pull away.