Authors Note: Sorry for the wait. I was legitimately super busy. I had zero time to update, considering I have to read over the chapter and everything before I publish it.

Anywayzzz: as promised, here are the people that enjoy some of the same bands/musicians as me: Overcome, VivaLaKatee, JealousMindsThinkAlike, desperatelyobvious, jahfreenalam, and ijusttookyourcookie. Please note that that doesn't mean I like all the bands/musicians you listed. A lot of them I cringed at, not gonna lie. But that's just me.

Chapter Four:

Glimpse

The sky is utter perfection. It's so deep and blue you feel like you can swim in it, like an endless sea of atmosphere. Wind caresses you from every angle, whispering across your skin as it breathes its secrets to you. You feel so at peace and calm where you are, that no thought as to how you got to such a place occurs to you.

Instead you simply float along as normal, fingertips stretched out to touch the blossoming clouds surrounding you. Eventually your lazy, languid thoughts pick up speed, and you are able to sense the strange pressure on your back. Curious you reach behind you, the pads of your fingers searching . . .

You are momentarily shocked at the sensation of feathers, as your hand comes in contact with them. Startled as such, you momentarily dip downwards, causing your pulse to leap from your throat in the form of a gasp. Regaining your balance is no easy feat, but you manage. All the while you know something isn't right. Not right at all.

Things begin to click into place; things you should have noticed long before. One: humans didn't just naturally find themselves hovering in midair. This brilliant recollection leads you to your next thought. Two: humans, at least the normal kind, didn't have feathers sprouting from their backsides either.

Panic sweeps through you, and suddenly all peacefulness flees your system, being replaced by an overwhelming sense of fear and stress. More anxious than ever you swivel your head to see over you shoulder, straining your neck so that it protests painfully.

To your horror, right between your shoulder blades, feathers are protruding from your skin, arching out in the shape of a crescent moon.

In the shape of wings.

With that thought you are sent spiralling towards the ground, your newest appendages locked and frozen behind you. The air is rushing past you so quickly it stings, akin to the sensation of a million tiny bees penetrating your skin. The sound of the wind hurts your ears so much you begin to acquire a pounding headache. All the while the ground is approaching you, a mixture of brown and gray.

As you approach your impending doom, you realize the blend of colors is really a bunch of jagged, slicing rocks. They knife into the air, sharpened to a point perfect for skewering; say- a person falling from the sky.

The peril you are feeling is heightened ten-fold as you squeeze your eyes shut tightly, dreadful anticipation of what is to come settling in resignation in the pit of your stomach.

I gasped, my eyes flying open in the light of morning. Squinting I rolled to the side, burying my face in my pillow to block out the illumination of the room. My heart was racing, and a cool sweat trickled down the back of my neck.

Already I'd forgotten what I was dreaming about, that seemed to frighten me as so. Raising my head I glanced at the clock, figuring it would come to me later. The blocky, red letters spelled out it's time to get up for school.

Great.

Just when I'm thinking this the alarm went off, shrill and whining. It's piercing sound made my head ache, and I hurriedly slapped my palm against the snooze button, glad to be rid of the noise. From across the room the bundle that is Ella moaned and shifted, like a bear coming out of hibernation.

"Morning Sunshine," I called out cheerfully, though I was just as tired. Let's just say Ella wasn't much of a morning person.

"Please tell me this is a joke and it's actually Saturday," she pleaded, only the tip of her dark head visible beneath her cocoon of blankets.

"Sorry kiddo. Monday would be the accurate date," I informed her, rolling to my feet. I stretched my arms about my head, yawning. My toes curled into the soft carpet, slightly cold now that they weren't wrapped in my comforter.

"Lies," she groaned, burrowing deeper into her mattress. A moment later though she was across the room, grumbling, headed for the bathroom. Ells didn't mind school, really. She liked being with the new friends she had made since she moved here and such. It was getting the ball rolling that was the hard part.

I laughed at her reluctance, shaking my head. Sometimes she seemed more like me than was possible. I had to wonder if it was an acquired feature, from just the short time she's known me, or if it stretched back to her days in Arizona.

Not in the mood to worry about my appearance, as if I ever was, I slapped my hair back into a ponytail. When I was fully dressed I grabbed my bookbag from its place beside the tiny desk in our room, heading towards the kitchen.

Mom was there, her back turned to me as she hummed to herself at the stove. I didn't recognize the tune, but she seemed to be enjoying herself as she flipped the pancake she was cooking high into the air with a precision I vaguely remembered from my early childhood. Slowly she was returning to that woman.

Was I ready to accept that yet?

She turned just then, catching sight of me lingering in the doorway. With a small smile she motioned for me to enter, indicating the high stack of pancakes she had on a plate already. Both her and Aunt Val had learned that I usually ate a lot.

I dropped my bag beside the counter, grabbing the plate and the bottle of maple syrup as I went. After I was done smothering them in the sickly sweet liquid I froze, my fork halfway to my mouth. A small trail of syrup was oozing between the utensil and the plate, and I was cautious to not let it drip on me.

Blinking I upturned my gaze to my mother, who was still busy with her cooking. Swallowing thickly I mumbled: "Thanks."

She looked over at me, eyebrows raised. "I'm sorry, did you say something?" I wasn't surprised she hadn't heard me; what with how quietly I had spoken and at such a great speed. Either that or she just wanted to hear me say it again

Sighing I cleared my throat, glaring down at the table as I repeated my thank you.

"No problem, honey," she replied, smiling brilliantly at me. Her eyes were shining with pleasure, her dark blond hair accenting this. She's so pretty. The thought startled me. But it was so true, her and Aunt Valencia both. They were beautiful women, there was no denying that. Ella was on her way to it as well, though she had plenty of years to morph into what I'm sure would be the spitting image of her mother. You could just tell.

"Ooh, pancakes!" Ella exclaimed from the doorway, her voice splintering the moment between my mother and I. For just a few seconds a link had been forged there, now broken by Ella's oblivious interruption. "So cool! Thanks Aunt Becca."

"Anytime," Mom responded, finally looking away from me. I dropped my gaze to my meal as well, which had grown chill during our exchange. I shoveled it away regardless, my stomach no longer growling.

Ella and I chatted easily over the breakfast, while Mom cleaned the dishes, occasionally piping in. We laughed and made jokes. Everything was . . . normal.

That is until Aunt Val burst through the door, a troubled expression on her face, mixed with somewhat relief.

"I just got off the phone with Mrs. Carter," she explained after we had all shown her mirrored, questioning looks. My eyes widened at the news, and I immediately came to my feet.

"What did she say?" I demanded, biting my lip.

"She said they've thought about it some more, and they might consider giving us custody of Angel and Gazzy after all," she said breathlessly, a huge smile lighting up her features. I wasn't ready to celebrate just quite yet, though.

"That's so great!" Ella gushed, hugging each of us individually. I continued staring at Aunt Valencia though, my brow furrowed.

"But what?" I inquired, crossing my arms over my chest. "There's an obvious 'but' at the end of that statement."

Her grin waned the tiniest bit, and she nodded with a sigh. "You're right. She said there was still a definite possibility that Angel and Gazzy could go to the other couple. As much as they want them to be with their real family, they have to keep the kids 'best interest' in mind."

"Screw their 'best interest'. We are their best interest. Why can't they see that?" I spat bitterly, loathing the shaky precipice we were stationed on, in which the favor could lean either way.

"I know, Max," Aunt Val said tenderly, gripping my hand in her own. "And they're going to soon learn that as well. We just have to have some faith. Mrs. Carter said they'd issue a formal inspection of the house and such sometime in the near future, as well as looking over financial files and the like. Things are going to work out."

"I really hope you're right," I said, my voice hard and my jaw squared. I could count on one hand the times things have gone my way in the past. That stat was keeping me back from believing this would work itself out.

Personal experience said as much.

"We should probably get going, or else we'll be late for school," Ella reminded me, as the silence since my last comment stretched on. I nodded stiffly, slinging my bag over my shoulder once more.

"Here, take the car today," Aunt Valencia offered, pointing to where the keys were laying on the counter.

"Are you sure?" I asked, hesitating. "Don't you have to work later?"

"Yes, but it's supposed to be nice today. I might as well get some fresh air and walk down to the clinic. Besides, you two will never make it to school on time with how late it is. Just take it and go. I won't be responsible for another tardy notice," she insisted, shooing us out the door.

I snatched up the keys as I passed, tossing them in my hand as we made our way to the curb. Once we were inside the car Ella asked if we could pick up Nudge, and I agreed. Her apartment was on the way, anyway.

As I drove Ella fiddled with the radio, singing along to the songs as she flicked through the stations, never staying on one for more than a few seconds. I was just about to remind her of the rule I had about music when I was driving, when a figure standing on the sidewalk ahead caught my attention.

I narrowed my eyes as we passed, trying to get a glimpse of their face. The build of the person was extremely familiar, and images of my near accident yesterday flashed in my mind. Just as we came close enough though, he turned, throwing his navy blue hood up around his head. Not before I caught the faintest glimpse of turquoise though.

"What are you looking at?" Ella asked in confusion, turning to follow my line of vision.

"Nothing," I muttered, shaking my head as the person disappeared around the corner.

"Do you know that guy or something?" she inquired, craning her neck to try to catch another glimpse of him. He was gone though.

"Of course not," I said with a shrug, turning down Nudge's street. She was already waiting on the doorstep, surprisingly enough. She jumped to her feet as we rolled to a stop in front of the steps, skipping down in true Nudge-esque style. She was blabbering her mouth off as soon as she opened the door.

For the most part I ignored her, leaving Ella to supply what little conversation a person could get in when it involved Nudge. We were about a block from the school when Ella suddenly interrupted Nudge's rant with a shout.

"Hey, isn't that the guy from before?" Ella exclaimed, pointing out the window. My gaze immediately snapped to where her finger led. Sure enough the same hooded figure was standing at the edge of the road. By that time though, he was already becoming a lone speck in the rearview mirror.

"Who is it? Is he like, someone you guys know? Or is he some sort of stalker? Ooh, that would just be SO creepy, don't you think? I-"

Ella cut her off before she could really launch into something. "Are you sure you don't know him, Max?"

"I have no idea," I replied offhandedly, though a certain sort of grimness was beginning to settle in the pit of my stomach, as little puzzle pieces clicked together. The hair . . . the eyes . . . the overall physical appearance.

Was Dylan back?

Authors Note: Yeah. That's right. That was slightly a cliffhanger. Uhuh. I did it. I went there.

Thoughts? (:

P.S. Favorite . . . movies? Anybody?