Authors Note: Easter update! (as a sort of present to all you amazing people!). So, Happy Easter for those of you who celebrate it, and Happy Random Update Day for those who don't. I'm in a super mood today, and it really has nothing to do with the candy, because I'm really pushing for the "What Easter really means" thing.

So enjoy! (Btw: thanks for the reviews last chapter. It kicked up some feedback out of you all (: )

Chapter Seven:

Problems

Everything that had led up to that point seemed to make so much more sense now, as all the little pieces fell into place. The totally rich couple that could possibly offer a better life for my brother and sister than we could? Mr. and Mrs. King themselves.

The betrayal of it stung more than I could have imagined.

I mean sure, they weren't my biggest fans. I was just a little too rough around the edges for their taste. My upbringing wasn't my fault though. Just because I wasn't as privileged as them, didn't mean I deserved any less respect. That had never mattered to them, however. From the first moment I had stepped into their outlandish, dignified home, they had hated me.

In their eyes I was stealing away their perfect little son. What they didn't know was lately, he had been tugging against that hold.

My concentration was momentarily broken, as a hand gripped my arm tightly. I swung my gaze around quickly, fists clenched. Now that Fang's parents weren't in my immediate sight, my head cleared slightly. I hadn't even realized to what degree my vision had begun to swim, as the cold fury I was experiencing consumed my every thought and made my blood boil.

"Don't," Aunt Val hissed warningly, her grasp stronger than I would have thought. It wasn't until then that I realized I was perched on my toes, arms hanging loosely at my sides like I was prepared to launch myself at the couple.

She had no idea though. Not the slightest bit.

"You don't understand," I insisted through gritted teeth, my eyes once again narrowing at the familiar people across from me.

Mrs. King was dressed as impeccably as ever, her dark gray ensemble highlighting her electric blue eyes, which were framed by her flowing, coal black hair. Both of her hands were clasped gently around one of Angel's, and she patted her small palm every few seconds as she talked with a fervor I recognized from the party she had hosted.

Mr. King seemed to be content with just listening, sitting motionlessly beside his wife. You didn't have to guess where Fang got his quiet nature, upon observing his father's overall behavior. Mr. King had a commanding sort of presence though, where Fang managed to blend into the shadows.

He wasn't The Shadow for nothing.

"I understand the consequences confronting those two people could bring up, which is enough for any of us to be wary of such a thing," she said with much the same tone I had.

"But you don't understa-" I began again, trying to explain the situation. To her these were random strangers. I knew them though. I knew them a heck of a lot.

Enough to know that this didn't make any sense. Mr. and Mrs. King weren't exactly the type to one day up and decide to adopt one child, let along two. Besides, Mrs. King didn't seem very impressed with Gazzy the first time around in any case. Which led me to wonder: what had spurred this? Was it purely spite for me, or something else entirely?

"I don't have to understand, Max," she said tightly, not relishing her hold on me in the slightest. "I just have to keep you from doing something stupid, that could harm us all in the long run. You will regret approaching them when it comes down to it. Just let things pan out themselves. There's no need for you to intercept fate."

We continued staring down one another. I wasn't going to relent on this, and neither was she. We really were a lot alike in many ways. Stubborn as hell, that's for sure.

"Look, I think they're leaving now!" Ella interrupted our staring match hastily, stepping between the two of us like if our eyes were to meet any longer, the air hovering there would burst into flames.

She was right, in the end. Mr. King was now on his feet, holding a hand out to help his wife stand. They said their goodbyes to Angel and Gazzy, all big smiles and faux-cheer. It made me sick. Then they made their way in our direction, arm in arm. As they passed, I couldn't mistake the chilling look Aria King shot my way, the coldness in her icy blue irises withering in its intensity. That was all the acknowledgement I received though, as they breezed past our quartet.

I found myself holding my breath as they did so, the space suspended between us crackling with an unseen electricity that threatened to singe me if I moved even the slightest bit. Even after they were out of sight, I found it difficult to swallow; my throat feeling like it was lined with cotton. The pressure made me uncomfortable, and it took me a few moments to shake off the overwhelming feeling that came with lack of oxygen.

Afterwards, however, there wasn't a lot of time to spend agonizing over their involvement in the whole affair. Now that their intriguing visitors were gone, Angel and Gazzy had finally caught sight of us.

"MAX!" they shrieked in unison, twin looks of intense shock and pleasure on their faces, as their baby blue eyes bulged. Immediately I was engulfed in a mash of blond curls and awkward, jabbing limbs. I didn't mind when Gazzy's elbow found its way into the soft skin of my stomach, though. Nothing could ruin this moment.

I dropped to my knees, my fingers scrabbling and reaching to hold them to me with whatever purchase I could gain. Angel's skinny, wonderfully familiar arms were wound around my waist in an iron grip I was proud of. Gazzy was holding me around the shoulders, his spiky hair nestled in the crook of my neck. I couldn't mistake the wetness dripping down my collar, either. He was crying . . .

And so was I, I soon realized.

"We're a mess," I blubbered, sniffing once we had pulled slightly away from each other. I examined the two of them through a fractured and blurry vision, shrouded by the liquid brimming in my eyes. "We're a horribly pathetic, sobbing, dysfunctional mess."

"That's the best kind to be," Angel insisted, sounding so much older than her nine, soon to be ten, years. It broke my heart even more to see how much she had grown up in the few months we had been apart.

"Otherwise it'd be boring," Gazzy agreed, cracking a grin through the obvious redness surrounding his eyes. He would never admit to crying so easily. My brother was a trooper, that's for sure.

I managed a smile through the irritation in my own eyes and the thickness in my throat, feeling so much less empty now that we were reunited, even for this brief period of time. Drawing myself up I heaved a breath, trying to compose myself. It was a rarity for me to break down like this; and most of them had happened in the recent past.

"I miss you guys so much," I admitted, wiping a stray tear from the corner of my eye.

"We miss you too, Max," Angel replied, suddenly reaching out to grip my hand in her own. Her skin was velvety smooth and soft; achingly familiar. How many times had I held that hand before? How many times had I smoothed down those curls when she was sick or had woken up in the middle of the night from a bad dream? How many times had I dried those tears? How many times had I risked everything for the two children before me, just to have them ripped away?

It wasn't fair. At all. But the sad truth was, life wasn't fair. It never had been, and it would never cease to be that way. It was foolish of me to think at any point that I could change that.

"How is it here?" I inquired, finally getting down to the important things. The things I needed to know. "Do they treat you alright? Are you getting enough to eat? Have you-"

"It's not that bad. Really," Gazzy assured me, twisting the edge of his t-shirt in his hand as he spoke. The end was sightly frayed, but then again, we had never been able to afford anything more luxurious either.

"Are you sure?" I demanded intently. "Because I swear to God if they're mistreating you in any way I'll be sure to bust some heads and we'll break you guys out of here in a moments notice."

Angel laughed, the sound soothing to my deprived ears. Gazzy joined in, shaking his head. For that one infinite second in time we were at peace with each other; and everything seemed just . . . normal. Eventually though, everything came to an end.

"Max."

It was Aunt Valencia, speaking softly from behind. I started in surprise at the sound of her voice, forgetting momentarily that I wasn't the only one here to see Angel and Gazzy. Briefly pressing my lips together in a tight line I craned my neck around to see them, before I returned my gaze to my siblings.

"Guys, there are a few people you need to meet," I informed them, gesturing for the others to step forward. Aunt Val came up with ease, smiling warmly. Ella followed more slowly; hesitantly. There was a timid smile on her face, as she looked up through her long lashes shyly.

"This is our Aunt Valencia, and our cousin Ella. They moved from Arizona to come stay with us. Aunt Val's a vet, and Ella's a few years younger than me," I explained, watching their expressions carefully. Angel beamed . . . well, angelically. Gazzy smiled as well, though less enthusiastically due to his age and status as a macho-man. Of course.

"And I guess you already know who this is . . ." I trailed off slowly, indicating Mom, who was standing uneasily a few feet away, looking solemn.

In any other instance, their mirror gasps of surprise would be comical. I couldn't bring myself to laugh though, or even so much as smirk. There was something irrevocably serious about the situation, and I wasn't going to do anything to tamper with that. This was probably the only time they could remember seeing Mom even remotely coherent; not completely drugged or thrashing and screaming.

"Mommy?" Angel whispered, so low you could barely hear. I witnessed a tremble shiver through Mom's entire body at the term, her eyes glazing over with tears. Every visible part of her body was quaking now, like a paper thin leaf in the wind, but for an entirely different reason than drugs, or lack of.

"My baby Angel," she murmured, her eyes crinkling at the corners as a single tear dripped onto her cheek, weaving a glittering path down the expanse of her jaw.

And then they were hugging; so fiercely you'd think they'd combust. No space was left between them, as the picture perfect moment ran on. I was the only one who seemed to notice Gazzy standing stiffly in the same position he had been from the start, his face blank and devoid of emotion. His back was completely rigid, and he made no move to approach our mother. I could only imagine the thoughts ticking away in his mind.

Most likely images of the dark, festering hole she had trapped herself in for years. The look on her face as she screamed and pleaded for more. Always more. The rotten sheets twisted all around her sickly frame. The hollow look in her eyes that never seemed to go away. The shattered glass from another thrown object. The pain and suffering she had put us all through.

Things you couldn't forget . . . Things a nine year old may be able to forgive, but things a twelve year old would always hold against you.

"She's not a baby." His tone was dead and shockingly strong, poised like a knife above her. "Not anymore."

"Gazzy . . ." Mom said uselessly, staring at him over Angel's shoulder. The tremble in her voice seemed to come straight from her core, resonating in the sudden silence that blossomed in the room. Or maybe it was just in the bubble that was somehow surrounding us and no one else.

"You lost your chance," he intoned; repeating things I had thought and said so many times. Things that never lost their meaning, no matter how much better Mom's health improved . . . No matter how much she resembled the person she used to be.

The mother she used to be.

"I . . ." She didn't know what to say. She knew there weren't any words that could make this better. Gazzy was just old enough to possibly remember how things used to be. Nobody could take those memories from him. Nobody could make him forgive her.

With that he turned on his heel, leaving the room without a backwards glance. There was a palpable chill left in his wake, one that made me question the future of my family even if we did gain custody of the two of them.

Something told me that wouldn't be the end of our problems.

Authors Note: Well, there's that to think about. Do me a favor and review? It could be your little Easter gift to ME (: Right, right?

P.S. VivaLaKatee, even though you hate me now, I am uber glad at least SOMEone knows The Word Alive. Their greatness should be known by everyone, really. (:

P.P.S What did everybody get for Easter (if they celebrate it, once again)? And I'm just going to tell you that one thing that kills me about holiday's now: They're hardly celebrated for their real purpose anymore. Easter, Christmas, Halloween, etc.. Kids growing up nowadays probably don't even realize what they really mean, you know? They just know they get stuff.

Makes me mad.

(Review! ?)