Feelings. Fang really didn't like them. He was more one to avoid them, get over them, or just let things go. Let them float away, like he and the Flock did on a daily basis. But he couldn't seem to get rid of one, and it was killing him.

Because he knew she felt the same, but she was ignoring it.

Why was she? Maybe it was for the Flocks sake? Maybe she felt like, if they were together, like that, it would get too complicated? He guessed, though, that it had more to do with the fact that he was her right-wing man.

So tonight, he was going to show her he could be both.

He realized, now, that kissing her out of the blue really didn't work, caused her to be confused when he tried to make here jealous, and in general hurt them both. He decided he was going to... take her on a date.

The word sounded foreign even in his mind, when it probably shouldn't for a boy of his age. Didn't teenagers usually have their first dates at thirteen these days? He guessed so. But he wasn't a normal teenager.

-

As Fang was contemplating what Max would like, and how to get her to accept going on a date in the first place, Angel decided to butt in. Fang, you're overthinking this. You know Max better than she knows herself. It's really not that hard to guess what she would want...

When Fang glared over at her, she had her eyes closed and her head resting as if in slumber on her hands. The soft, deadened firelight showed the contours of her small, child-like face, and revealed that her mouth was curved into a smirking smile.

Fang squinted at the stars and furrowed his eyebrows. Angel was sort of right--this should be easy for him to figure out. But, then again, from what he could tell, nothing was easy with a relationship.

He wanted it anyway.

-

On the night, or, actually, the afternoon, of this going-to-maybe-be-date, Fang didn't dress any differently; he didn't bring flowers, he didn't buy jewelry, or draw her something or write poetry. He knew, for one thing, that she would be wondering if he had been replaced by a clone, and also, it wouldn't impress her.

If Max was anything, she was critical. She would judge, and judge harshly, immediatly and efficiently, because she had grown up paranoid and distrustful of any stranger on the street. It was what kept them all safe, but it really made Fangs goal harder.

So when the time came, Fang waited until they stopped for the day, and then gave Iggy the signal. "I'm kind of feeling sick."

Everyone, even Iggy, who was playing his part well, snapped their eyes over to him; Fang was never one to admit defeat, illness, injury, or fear--any emotion, really. So his group members were shocked to hear him admit to something as small as "sick."

"How so?" Iggy asked, coming over and putting a forearm to Fangs forehead.

"Puking, nausea sick," Fang murmured. He actually kind of was, nervous as to whether or not the plan would work.

"We're out of any medicine that helps that..." Iggy said. They were, now, because he and Fang had been near a stream the day before and buried the bottle in the mud. It may've been wasteful, but honestly, Iggy thought everyone was pretty sick of the walking on eggshells. "...I'd have to go into town."

Max squinted--the mid-afternoon sun was shining right into her eyes, lighting up her face and giving it a glowing look, Fang thought--and glanced at Iggy. "Alright. Is anyone hungry?"

The younger ones of the Flock all shot their hands up, and Total muttered, "I'm not, but I should eat--my wings are still growing, you know."

Max rolled her eyes and got a thinking look on her face. After sharply glaring at Angel, and then rolling her eyes again, her face pinched, she huffed and said, "Okay, Angel, Gazzy, Nudge, all of you go with Iggy. If we're going for supplies we might as well go all out. I'll find the list. Fang and I will set up camp." By that, Fang thought, she meant she was going to interrogate Fang on how bad his "stomach issues" were.

-

After the Flock took off, Angel giving Fang that annoyingly knowing smirk, Max appeared to be trying to stay calm. Bustling through camp and not being nearly as graceful as usual wasn't really convincing Fang, though, so he decided to put her out of her misery and tell the truth.

Coming up behind her, he put a hand on her shoulder, gently, tenderly, trying to caress it, without her noticing and without enjoying it too much, and said, "Hey, calm down. I'm fine."

Max turned around and gave Fang a suspicious look, subconciously sweeping his hand off her shoulder. Fang plowed on, "Uh, listen, I..." Max raised and eyebrow, seemingly wondering why in the world Fang was stuttering and having trouble with his thoughts, "I was wondering, if you'd like to go for a fly?" Fang finished lamely. What should he say? Max was Max, and would probably spook if he worded it any differently.

Max sighed and looked around the clearing that was their camp. Two tents, recently given to them by Ms Martinez, were pitched in one corner, and a small rock pile was the start of a safe-fire.

Fang sighed also, because he knew Max tried so hard to make things normal for them, like with the shopping list, the s'mores they had, as if they were on a camping trip. But it didn't work.

Without saying what he was thinking, though he strangely felt like he should comfort her, he opened his fourteen foot wing-span and launched straight into the air. Taking off this way hurt a little bit, putting more strain on the muscles in his back because he was pushing himself up with his own wing power instead of a running start or jumping, but he preferred it. He waited a little impatiently for Max to write the Flock a note and slowly rise toward him, so he immediatly swooped off when she got the the altitude he was at.

There really was nothing like flying, with your own devices, Fang thought. The wind through your hair, flowing across your outstretched wings and fingers, and the beautiful girls hair who was flying next to him, her wingtips ever-so-softly brushing his on every down and up-stroke....

He really needed to do something, or he was going to turn into a girl himself.

He couldn't help it, though. Every time their wings touched, he felt like getting down on one knee and proposing to her. It was probably the bird genes...

Yeah, right.

-

After about two hours it was almost dark, the faint tinges of red, orange and yellow leaking from the sky and fading to a lighter, then darker blue. Max and Fang had been laying on the grass near an opening in the tree cover, gaining back their breath. It took a lot to make them tired, but even the most fit people had to take a breather every now and then.

It had been clear all day, but it looked like it was going to start raining. Fang sighed quietly; he hadn't gone through with the plan yet, and he probably wouldn't. He just didn't know how to do it, make it perfect, and he wouldn't risk alienating Max, because even as a friend she was his life.

He had to say it! He was just so clueless, and really, scared. He didn't want his heart broken again.

Maybe he was part raven. Or eagle. They had dark wings--and they mated for life.

-

Fang was right; it did start to rain. One second, it was clear, and the next, it was pouring. And, to top it all off, there was thunder and lightening.

"Max!" Fang shouted, just as a bout of thunder boomed across the landscape. She still somehow managed to hear him, and glanced back, her face scrunched up in concern and squinting against the onslaught of diamond-shard-water.

"Yeah?" She screamed back, shielding her eyes.

"Maybe we should land! Wait it out?!" Fang replied, thinking he might go hoarse if he shouted and louder.

As Max was thinking, Fang noticed how high they actually were, and how close to the rolling grey clouds they'd gotten.

It all happened in less than a second.

20 milliseconds: A flash of light behind Max's beautiful, thoughtful, and planning face. The light shined in her eyes.

40 milliseconds: Fang gasped, an lunged toward her; not thinking, not planning, just doing.

60 milliseconds: He twisted his body painfully, throwing Max twenty feet away, even in midair. She wobbled a little, getting ready to shout a question, but Fang didn't hear it.

80 milliseconds: Fang was struck in two spots; the middle of his back, and one of his wings. As the smell of singed feathers just started to fill the air Fang cried out, arching his back unnaturally, the muscles all over his body straining to fight off an attacker that couldn't be killed.

As Fang's eyes closed, Max shrieked for the first time in her life, a haunted, horrified scream of agony for another person. Then, he plummeted.

-

Everything was black. And someone was calling out to him, but he couldn't even remember his own name, so how was he supposed to know theirs? He could vaguely hear something... wet, sounding going by his head, over his ears. Soaking into his hair. He subconciously tried to reach up and swipe it out of his eyes, but he couldn't seem to move. He wasn't partciluarily bothered by this, actually. When he tried to focus on anything, just a small strand of thoughts, they seemed to elude him, scattering like scared deer. This was vaguely annoying, but the irritation disappeared like a wisp of smoke in a second. He guessed he should probably be trying to do something, after all, he couldn't just stay in this nothingness forever, could he? Actually, wouldn't it just be better to? To avoid any problems, feelings. Just be light and free in this easy darkness.

Everything was fine, in unconciousness.

-

When Fang woke, however, he groaned softly and decided not to open his eyes. He felt like he'd been hit by a train, and a few semi's, and maybe a plane or five.

He heard the voice from before, and he still felt the hair on his forehead, but he couldn't for the life of him do anything.

All of a sudden, something warm, and soft, and almost unbearably good, touched the curls on his face and swept them away, as if reading his thoughts. Fang would've sighed in relief, and maybe kissed whoever did that, but he still couldn't move.

He lay there for however long it was, not really paying attention to the time passing, but feeling the pain slowly leak out of his body and hearing the soft sounds someone was making next to him. A small worried whimper here, an impatient and sigh or tapping of the fingers here... It all sounded very... musical, somehow.

But he didn't like it when the voice started pleading, because it made his heart hurt. It made his chest ache, a headache start to form, and sort of made him feel like he should ask what was wrong, and hug them, pushing their head into his shoulder.

-

Slowly, so slowly, Fang opened his eyes a crack. He was immediatly grabbed and forced into a tight hug. He moaned a little bit, eyes widening, and Max--yes, that was her name, Max, the one he'd known all his life--realized her mistake, releasing him and laying him down, gently, against the tree he'd been leaning on before. Looking sheepish, she stared at him, and started fidgeting with her fingers.

"What's up?" Fang croaked. It came out sounding like a small whisper, weak and feeble. Fang cleared his throat and winced sharply when everything vibrated with the movement, which didn't really help.

Max's eyes teared up and she layed her head on his chest, still looking at him but feeling his heart beating.

After a few moments of silence, Max said in a scared, scratchy voice--probably from crying-- "I thought you were dead."

"Max... I..." Fang decided, if he was just on his death bed, he'd better get to telling her how he felt now, before he didn't even have the chance. In a strong, well, stronger voice than before, he said, "I love you."

Max bolted upright, and the sudden movemment made Fang grimace, but she didn't notice. Her blank stare towards him literally felt painful. Why didn't she say something? He'd just handed her his heart... was she going to crush it? Or was she going to protect it...?

Max finally sighed and relaxed, releasing her tense posture. "Okay. Yeah... I can deal with this..." She muttered, apparently not realizing she was speaking aloud.

Deal with it? Fang thought. Was that a deal with it as in accept it, and return it, or a rejection? He didn't mean to rush her but he was kind of impatient... Almost dying, and all...

Fangs face stayed stoic, but inside, the space where his heart used to be was turning into a black hole. He could feel his face wanting to crumple in defeat, the tears, ridiculously, pricking at his eyes, and he really just wanted to slink off and die. But he couldn't move.

Max stared at him with her chocolate brown eyes, still red around the edges, and her dirty blonde hair still damp from the flash thunderstorm, and then her lips were on his.

Moving them clumsily, after all, it was only their third kiss, really, for both of them, and the first time it had lasted more than a second, Fang quickly returned the kiss as much as he could in his current predicament. He opened his eyes, not having noticed that he closed them in the first place, to find her staring back at him with a confused and elated expression.

When they blinked their eyelashes caught eachothers, and brushed the other person cheeks. Fang decided to try something, for the hell of it, since Max seemed ready to accept affection from him, for the moment. Slowly, gently, he parted his lips, darting his tongue out to sweep quickly across hers. Max gasped lightly, and shut her eyes, bringing her hands up to Fangs hair and pulling softly on it.

As she opened her mouth and accepted him inside, he shut his eyes and just went with it. He felt like he was... floating. Not flying. Just moving through the air, not even having to think about it, work for it. It was blissful.

When they inevitably broke apart, Fang kept his eyes closed, not willing to see her horrified expression, or the part where she stood and bolted. Honestly, he'd rather stay in this world where she loved him back and they could at least hold hands. Something. Anything.

In fact, he thought he'd be fine if she just acknowleged that they had feelings for eachother.

"Uh..." Max sounded ashamed, bashful, shy... but not frightened.

Fang shakily lifted up a hand and put a strand of hair behind her ear, making her face go red a little. "Sorry... if I uh... hurt you." Fang shook his head minutely, the rough bark of the oak he was sitting on scratching his scalp. She didn't notice. "I mean, I know I hurt you that one time on the beach. Oh, God, I shouldn't have kissed you. I mean... what was I thinking? And you didn't even enjoy it. And you probably didn't know what you were talking about--I mean, me? That had to have been post-lightning strike induced. Really, how could you love me?"

As Max continued to babble, Fang started to smile softly, reliving the kiss, and the fact that she hadn't run. Reaching out again, blindly, he tried to find her hand. When he grasped it she shut up, and he brought it to his lips. Still holding it, he murmured, "Max?"

"Yeah, Fang?" She practically squeaked.

"Thank's for not running, and for finally..." Fang trailed off, sort of wondering whether or not to voice his thoughts from before. Had she accepted it? That they were meant for eachother?

"Finally what?" Max said, wrinkling her nose in confusion. Fang let out a small grin at the adorable sight. He was so whipped; but he loved it.

"Letting me love you," Fang tightened his grip on her hand. "I've known you my whole life, and really, I think you're it for me. So... Max..." he trailed off, not quite sure how to finish the sentence that could possibly shatter his heart into a bazillion pieces.

"I love you too," Max swept some more strands of hair off Fangs forehead and smiled so softly it almost wasn't there.

-

Max was normally against this kind of thing. She could never be that pretty, teenage girl. So why should she be able to have a boyfriend?

Fang wasn't a boyfriend, though. Birds mate for life, or some of them do. Like... ravens. For Fang, probably. And a hawk, for her. Maybe it was meant to be, like he said. But, no matter how you said it, Fang was it, for Max, too.

He was her first friend; her first kiss; her rock; her right-wing man; her best friend; her love. And now, he was her savior.

(A/N: Alright, I will be the first to admit that was ridiculously corny. And that the kissing scene sucked. But I think it was... decent, considering I've never kissed anyone... Oh well.

So. Critiqueing welcomed if its THOUGHT OUT. That is, if youre going to flame me. Nice critiqueing is nice, too :) But I swear to god, you randomely pick at my writing with no basis, and I will get you.

I think the lightening/unconciousness part was pretty intense. O.O

Blaaahhh. Okay. Done tirading now. Hope you liked it :) Thanks for reading :D)