It was no surprise that Fang couldn't sleep.
It was a hot summer night, and he was beyond uncomfortable in the small room with Iggy and Gazzy. He watched the fan blades spin above him, but they didn't seem to be helping at all.
The flock had found this abandoned condo near the edges of a national park an hour or so before sundown. It was probably a winter retreat for some rich family, based on all the snowboarding junk they had found in the garage and the security system they had had to hack. The condo had looked big from the outside, but it only had two bedrooms and one bathroom that were on the ground floor, and then a large living space and kitchen upstairs.
Thankfully, the electricity and water were still on. They'd all had refreshing showers and a hot meal of plain noodles and a can of Vienna sausages (left behind by the owners) before retiring for the night.
The place had no air conditioning, just central heating and fireplaces in all the rooms. But it did have ceiling fans, not that they helped with much of anything. Fang had woken after just a couple hours, soaked in sweat and dying of thirst.
He kicked the old sheet off his legs and rolled onto his back, trying to find a colder place on the hardwood floor to cool his skin.
Just as he was on the edge of drifting off again, he heard movement and went on high alert.
It was just Angel heading to the bathroom across the hall. He watched her pad up the hall, rubbing the sleep from her eyes with her little fists. Her bleary eyes and tired expression speared him through the heart.
She looked so thin and fragile. Little girls should have a pile of stuffed animals and a comfortable bed to call their own. She should be having pink and purple birthday parties with unicorn pinatas, not living like an escaped criminal.
For the thousandth time that day, Fang's thoughts turned to his inadequacies. He wished he could provide for them properly, even just the basics like food and shelter would be a step up. He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes until he saw stars.
Angel went back to her room, and Fang went back to staring at the fan.
Around two in the morning, he gave up.
The other boys were sound asleep. Iggy let out a soft snore every few seconds, and Gazzy lay on the bed at an angle with his mouth hanging open, dead to the world. Fang tiptoed across the room, careful to avoid the creaky floorboards he had mentally mapped earlier, and headed upstairs.
He passed the open door to the girls' room on his way and peeked in.
Nudge and Angel were cuddled together on the queen bed. Nudge was on the right, arm hanging off the bed, Angel on the left, curled like a puppy at her back. Max lay on the floor, blankets at her feet, her shirt riding up her abdomen, arms and legs all over the place.
Of course, Max would have given the bed to the two younger girls, even though all three could have fit. She was such a martyr. Would probably have been a little too warm, though, he thought.
He turned and started up the stairs to the kitchen. He washed his hands in the kitchen sink, then splashed his face to cool off. After he dried himself with a towel, he walked over to the sliding glass door that led to the balcony. There was an outside/inside thermometer on the wall next to the door. 65 degrees out there and 85 in here. Jesus.
There was a screen door behind the glass, so he stepped out onto the wooden balcony and closed the screen behind him. He knew they should have left a door or window open to cool off, but Max had been worried one of the neighbors would notice and think something was wrong. She had been right, but it didn't look like they had much to worry about in this little neighborhood.
Fang rested his forearms on the railing and looked out at the mountain slope they were perched on. It wasn't quite mountain yet, he thought. Maybe foothills. There was green grass and aspen trees as far as he could see. A mile or so away, down the hill, was a little farm, and he watched the dark shapes move around a bit. Horses, he guessed.
The slight breeze helped calm him down, but it didn't make him feel any better.
Eventually, he stepped back into the house. It felt a lot cooler already, even though the thermometer still read in the 80s. He took the chance and left the glass door open, locking the screen. He smiled ruefully. Like that would do anything against the people who were after them.
As he walked back towards his room, he heard Max mumbling, but he couldn't make out what she said. When he stopped and leaned into the room, he could see she was still sleeping. Probably just a dream.
He watched her sleep for a minute.
She was peaceful for once, the lines on her forehead relaxed. She breathed deeply, and he could hear a little sigh at the end of each breath. She had a hint of a smile on her mouth. She was so beautiful, even when she was glaring at him, but he loved her smile the most. It brightened everything around him, and he could forget what was going on for a moment.
Fang rested his forehead on the doorframe, his melancholy mood coming back. He wished he could make her smile more. He wished he could give her everything she could ever want. Or, at least, some semblance of normalcy.
He sighed. She was the best thing in his wretched life, and she deserved so much more. She deserved to have a proper family, and the chance to find someone who treated her right. She didn't deserve to be stuck with him.
He tried to do what was best for his little family. He was the alpha, the oldest male. It was his responsibility to protect them and care for them. Max filled that role, too, but only because he was too weak, and she knew it.
She never trusted him anymore, and she never would again. He knew he'd hurt her when he left for those few months a while back. It tore at his guilty consciousness every time he thought about it. At the time, it seemed like the best thing to do, but now...now, he knew he had taken the easy way out with very little regard to the rest of the flock. God, he was so selfish.
When Max sighed and rolled away from him, curling onto her side, he turned back to the hallway. He knew he was reading into it, but even in her sleep, she rejected him. She shifted again, moving farther away, and he felt his heart drop.
He was such a coward. He hated that he still had the urge to run away. Every day, he had to fight the feelings of fear and self-hatred down for their survival. It took every ounce of his energy to keep going, keep fighting.
Most days, he felt like more of a burden than a guardian.
He suddenly felt very alone, wandering around in a stranger's house in the middle of the night, watching the flock sleep. He wandered back to his room and lay down on the cold floor again.
His eyes grew heavier, but his guilty mind wouldn't let them close.
Sleep never came, but the dawn did, so he got up, folded his sheet, and started preparing for another day.