A/N Dayumn, writing in Iggy's perspective is hard...

Iggy was awoken the next morning by Fang nudging him in the ribs with his foot.

'We're getting out of here.' His low voice came from Iggy's left, audible over the rustlings of clothes and the chatter of the others as they roused and prepared to leave. Yawning widely, Iggy sat up and stretch his arms into the air over his head, feeling the muscles in his back pulling and loosening after hours spent on the floor. It had actually been a pretty solid night's sleep; now that there were ten of them, everyone got nights off from taking watch, which he wasn't complaining about in the slightest. Things had been so awful lately, he mused as he groped for his pack, what with Fang running off and Max being put pretty much out of action, then Ella and Dr M and Jeb disappearing, and finally Angel… He held his breath for a moment, not trusting himself to keep everything together unless he was utterly motionless.

The wave of panic passed, and Iggy felt himself drooping a little as he relaxed again. It was exhausting, all of this emotional business; he could do danger, excitement, fear, that was all fine. Easy after a whole lifetime of it. But things had always felt a bit like a game – it had all been about the biggest explosion, the fastest lock-pick – and now, suddenly, within the last few months, everything had become much more real. Now death seemed so palpable to him, and all these feelings were weighing him down. The last time he'd had such a tenuous grip on his emotions was during the whole fiasco with his parents, but he'd moved on fairly quickly from that; he had his own family… His own family which had been through so many changes recently. It was all just a bit hard to adjust to.

He couldn't let it get the better of him, though. It had been easy to play the joker with Gazzy when life was all about running from mad scientists and going on crazy quests to 'save the world', easy to act light-hearted and balance out Fang's intensity. That was how it had been: him and Fang, the two older guys in the flock, doling out their own specialties. Of course, Max had always paid more attention to Fang, and to be frank Iggy wasn't one to complain about it – he really didn't want that kind of attention from her – but all the same he'd always felt like he had his part to play, and he did it well, and everything was cool. Then Fang left, and suddenly Iggy had to try and take on the role of alpha male. There was Dylan, obviously, but the guy was new to the flock and there'd still been some detachment between him and the rest of them, particularly right after Fang went and it kind of seemed like it might have been because of Dylan. So the part had become Iggy's to play, and suddenly he couldn't be that guy anymore, that guy who messed around and made stupid jokes and fiddled around with explosives. He had to step up and take the load, especially during that time when Max was pretty much out of action.

The two groups coming together had been such a relief. It meant that he could start to be more like Iggy again. But even so, he kind of felt like the whole thing had aged him a bit, and now there were parts of that load that he couldn't shake from his shoulders, probably never would.

His thoughts were broken by Gazzy's jacket brushing his arm – it was time to go.

'Where are we off to now?' That was Kate, her voice ringing out from where Iggy seemed to remember the doorway into the hall being.

'Straight to the School from here. Death Valley, California,' replied Max.

'So much happiness all in one place,' Iggy quipped sarcastically, earning a few quiet laughs along with a sigh from Max that sounded half-despairing and half-amused.

'Should be just over six hours,' she finished, and he felt her footsteps vibrate through the ground and up into his own feet as she crossed the room. Her clap rang in his ears. 'Let's get going.'

Two minutes later they were up in the air, the wind pushing Iggy's hair back from his forehead and grazing lightly against his skin. His thoughts about flying had always been mixed; on the one hand, it was incredible to feel those muscles working, pushing him through the sky in a way that only a handful of people could experience, but on the other he felt his blindness much more keenly up here. In the air there were no vibrations to let him know where people where and how they were moving. Sure, the shifts in air currents helped, but it was never quite the same as being on the ground – the further something was from solid, the harder it was to read. Then again, Iggy thought, it wasn't like he'd ever give his wings up. Not for anything. Not even to see again.

When they finally began to draw near to Death Valley – he still couldn't help snorting a little at the aptness of the School's location – the sun was beating down on Iggy's back like a hammer, drawing sweat out of places he hadn't known could sweat.

'Sun isn't good for me!' he shouted to the others. 'Sky, sure. Sun, no. I clearly wasn't built for it.' He held his pale arms out in front of him to demonstrate his point.

'Wimp,' Gazzy replied from beside him. 'It's not that bad.'

Iggy shook his head dramatically, throwing his hands up in a flamboyant theatrical gesture.

'No, young sir. I'm like Icarus; flying too close to the sun will mean my doom.' He let himself drop through the air in an exaggerated swoon, catching himself after a few feet and swooping back up again with a grin.

'Did Icarus have a good sense of smell?' Gazzy asked thoughtfully.

Iggy frowned, confused.

'I don't know. Why is it important?'

Gazzy let out a wicked snigger, and not a second later Iggy was almost knocked out of the sky by a stench so powerful it was like a solid wall ramming him in the face.

'Oh, jeez, Gazzy,' he choked. 'How is it that strong in the sky, with the wind and everything? What, does the smell just hang around you?'

The sky was soon filled with cries of disgust as the smell reached the rest of the flock, and the rest of the journey was spent berating the Gasman, who, if his cackling was anything to go by, was entirely unfazed.

Once they reached the valley, a few minutes of cautious circling – what, like they wanted to advertise to the School that they were there? – revealed multiple small caves in the sides of the surrounding mountains, and it was in one of these that they set down their packs. Nudge ran to the end of the ledge sticking out over the valley at the front of the cave, spreading her arms wide.

'Near… Far… Whereeeeever you aaaaare…' she warbled, the flat notes making Iggy wince.

Then there was the job of getting back to where the road had finished and flying the other four members of the group up to their designated base. After a while of discussion, Max decided that they would spend the coming night in the cave before beginning recon on the School.

'We've been on the move for the last few days; if we're gonna be breaking in and unleashing some torment then we might as well be rested. And Star, you won't be able to use your arm properly whether we go today or tomorrow, but the longer you can take it easy, the better.'

A few hours later, Iggy wandered out of the cave, trying to form a picture of his surroundings. He'd taken a few steps up a narrow path to the left of the cave opening, tracing his hand lightly along the rocky wall of the mountainside, when he felt a pair of hands – Ratchet's, he thought – grabbing his arm and pulling him sharply backwards.

'What are you doing? Are you bl-' Ratchet cut off, realising what he was saying. Iggy raised his eyebrows in mock anticipation for the end of the sentence.

'Am I…? What? Blind?' He shook his head and swatted a hand through the air, brushing the word away. 'Nah. But people give you special treatment so long as they think you are.'

Ratchet snorted.

'So what was I just about to walk into?' Iggy asked.

'Crevice. Not very wide, so I don't reckon your wings would've been any use.'

He nodded, pulling a face like 'not bad', then turned his face towards the point where Ratchet's voice was coming from.

'Thanks.'

'No sweat… So Motormouth said that it was some whacked-up operation that did it.' The question was blunt, no less than Iggy would've expected from the former gang member.

'Yeah,' he replied shortly, waiting to see what Ratchet would say next.

'Just that that was how I ended up like I am. The sight, that is. I've been thinking maybe it was the same operation they tried on both of us.'

Iggy shook his head.

'They were trying to give me built-in night vision, not super senses.'

Silence for a moment, then:

'What's it like?' The question sprang out of Iggy before he could stop it. He heard Ratchet take in a breath and scratch at the rock wall beside him.

'In some ways it's cool, I guess. Whenever it helps in some way, then it's cool. But most of the time it's kind of overwhelming. Gotta say, man, there are times when I wish I could just see nothing.'

'Maybe we could switch,' Iggy said dryly, bringing out another laugh from Ratchet.

'Yeah, maybe.'

'It's weird, 'cause I remember what seeing's like. I was seven when I lost it, but I remember the sky and the colours and my friend's faces…'

'Sucks, dude.'

'Yeah... Yes, it sucks. But I guess it's helped, too. I don't reckon I could do a lot of the stuff I do best if I could see. Like, I wouldn't have bothered to learn if I hadn't had to.'

'Makes sense.'

As far as bonding went, it wasn't the most poignant of moments, Iggy thought, but it hadn't been awful, either. Then both boys' heads snapped up as raised voices met their sensitive ears: Fang and Dylan. Moving quickly back down the trail, they made their way to the cave; Iggy was focussing too hard on navigating the path to catch anything that was said, but the sound of a punch being thrown was unmistakeable, as was Dylan's grunt of pain that came with it.

'Fang! Dylan! Stop it, both of you!' Max's voice, sounding just about as angry as Iggy had ever heard it. There was a scuffling noise as she broke the two apart. 'What is wrong with you?'

Hard, riled breaths came from both sides of the cave, Dylan's on the left and Fang's on the right. Neither of them spoke.

'Well?' Max demanded. 'What the hell just happened?'

Fang's voice was low.

'I'm outta here.' Then his footsteps came moving quickly past Iggy and there was a whoosh as he snapped out his wings and threw himself off the ledge.

No one dared to say anything. Iggy wound his fingers together, twisting them around each other just for something to do.

'You want to explain that?' Max asked, her voice deadly deliberate.

'It was just a misunderstanding,' started Dylan, but Ratchet cut him off.

'Hey, don't be playing that card. You two have been rattling each other since the group came together. I saw all those scowls, and the words have been, ah… Less than polite, let's say. Just because you think no one can hear you...'

Max made a furious sound in the back of her throat, and Iggy could hear her gritting her teeth, grinding them together.

'Get your act together,' she shot at Dylan. 'I'll be back in a bit.'

Then she, too, ran past Iggy and jumped into the air.

'Well, damn,' Ratchet said into the silence.

I swooped upwards, reaching the peak of our crag before landing, standing with my face tilted into the wind. The sun was low in the sky, sending rays of orange highlights across the rough faces of the mountains surrounding me.

'That wasn't smart, Fang,' I said abruptly, still looking out across the valley. I heard pebbles skitter over the edge of the bluff as Fang shifted were he sat, becoming visible.

'How'd you know I was here?' he asked, standing.

I let out a derisive snort of laugher.

'Stuff might be different now but some things never change; you're not completely unreadable to me.'

He didn't move, remaining motionless a few feet behind me.

'It was stupid.'

'Yeah, it was,' I muttered, then raised my voice in frustration, tilting my head to fix him with a fierce stare. 'I mean for God's sake, what exactly were you expecting to achieve?'

He let out an exasperated huff, dropping his head to glare at the ground.

'Dylan… He rubs me up the wrong way, that's all. Talking about you.' The words were said in a growl as if they were being dragged out of him, like he was fighting to keep them in.

'No!' I turned my whole body so that I was facing him fully, anger clawing its way through my blood, burning in my chest. 'No, Fang. You don't get to be jealous, or protective, or riled. It's not your place, it's not your right. You do not have the right to get angry, you do not have the right to get rubbed up the wrong way. You don't have the right to do anything without me saying so because you are back here on my terms, remember?' I was pretty sure that my shouts would be carrying down to the cave, but I was past caring. 'I mean, what did you think, that you'd just waltz in and everything would go straight back to the way it was? Because it can't! Things are different now.'

'Things like Dylan?' Fang snapped back at me, taking an angry step forwards, his voice bitter.

'Yes, things like Dylan! And the flock. And Angel. And my mom, and Ella, and Jeb, and the School, and these four extra people I'm having to worry about all of a sudden. And what you did to me.' My voice lowered as I spoke, dropping back to a normal volume. 'It shook me up, Fang. I never thought that I could put so much into one person, be so broken because of something one person did.'

I'd looked away from him, and when he replied I heard an intense sadness in his voice.

'I wasn't trying to fight him for you. It's over, I get it. I get that you don't love me anymore, and-' My head snapped up, and his face was as it had been when we'd spoken back at the house; completely unguarded and open.

'That's not true,' I interrupted, feeling like everything I had in me was shaking with the hurt and the uncertainty of it all. 'You know that's not true.' I felt a burning in my throat, and spoke through gritted teeth, moving my mouth as little as possible in an attempt to stop myself from just giving way. 'I love you so much it makes my head spin. My stomach hurts with how much I love you. Sometimes I feel like I can't breathe because of it.' I looked him right in the eyes, and I could feel my face starting to screw up as I held back the tears that were threatening; this was the most openly we'd talked since everything fell to pieces, and now that I'd started letting it out it was as though I couldn't keep it from coming anymore. 'And having you around again? Having you around without being with you… It's…' Completely involuntarily, I found myself stepping towards him, like the part of me that lived in the past was gravitating in his direction. 'But the way that you hurt me, I didn't think that anyone… I didn't think that anyone could ever hurt me that deeply. Especially not you. There were times when I thought that you were the only thing I could be sure of. And then you weren't.'

I felt myself lose the battle not to cry, and a couple of tears managed to spill over. Fang's hand lifted automatically to brush them away, then stalled in mid-air. He looked completely shaken, crushed, devastated, just as he had when Angel died, and in that moment we weren't leader-Max and strong-guy-Fang. We were what we were: two kids, standing on a mountain, who'd shattered each other's hearts. There's really no way to neaten that one up.

I felt his fingers tentatively graze against my cheek, which only made me cry more, the tears leaking out accompanied by shuddering, gasping breaths. His hand moved to sit on my shoulder, his thumb on my collarbone, and slowly my own hand lifted, almost of its own accord, to rest on his wrist; I couldn't really tell who was shaking harder.

'It was like the rug had been pulled from under my feet,' I managed to get out into the silence, my fingers tightening around his wrist; I needed something to hold onto. 'And maybe I managed to pick myself up again, but that doesn't mean...' I had to stop talking for a moment before I could carry on. Just the physical act of getting words out felt like such hard work. 'That doesn't mean I'm going to go standing on that rug again anytime soon.' Perhaps the metaphor was precarious, but we both knew what I meant. Fang cleared his throat, clearly searching for what to say.

'Does that mean never?' he asked eventually, his voice strained. I screwed up my eyes, totally unable to keep looking at his face, but all that did was heighten everything else: his other hand moving to hold my waist, pulling me closer; my other hand gripping at his shirt just below the collar, pulling him closer; the feel of his breath on my forehead. God, we were so close, and it would be so easy to just give in, just reach up to him…

Feeling as though it caused me a physical, tearing, ripping pain, I pulled back, stepping away from him. I couldn't meet his eyes.

'I don't know,' I said, the words hanging in the air between us before I repeated them: 'I don't know.'

A/N Ah, so much emotion! I don't know if this was slightly OOC for the two of them, but in my mind I feel like a lot of people tend to forget that, at the end of the day and especially when it comes to things like relationships and emotions, they really are just a couple of teenagers who don't know squat about how to handle things, and I wanted to portray that side of them. Feel free to hate me now. Only I'd rather you didn't. There are a lot of twists to come, so keep reading! Let me know what you thought. :)