Authors Note: I'm incredibly tired and I'm about to pass out right now . . . and it's only nine o'clock. Wow. Anyway, thanks for the reviews guys! (:

Chapter Eight:

Gone

Suffice to say, the ride back home was an awkward one.

Aunt Valencia and Ella didn't seem to know what to say to ease the situation, which I was actually thankful for. It almost seemed like a crime to blow all that had transpired off now. And Mom . . . well, Mom was even more subdued and solemn than she had been from the start. Her skin had taken on that sickly pallor again, and the pain in her eyes was clearer than ever. I guess no matter what, she hadn't anticipated that sort of reaction from Gazzy. She probably thought I would be the toughest and last to forgive . . .

But maybe, just maybe, that wouldn't be me after all.

My brother had every right to be furious. Even if he was her son. I never allowed Angel to be there during her episodes. Never. All she could possibly discern from it were the noises, which were bad enough as it was. After awhile though, I couldn't do it all by myself. Gazzy had been forced to step up to the plate; something I regretted every day following that. He was truly scarred.

I found it odd that I was having mixed feelings about having someone actually on my side for this one. Shouldn't I be happy that Gazzy was in agreement with me? That he wasn't going to cave so easily for Mom's current appearance and just forget everything she had put us through?

Strangely enough, it just made me feel as sick as our mother looked.

"Max," Ella breathed without warning, reaching over to grip my wrist. I looked over at her in confusion, taking in her wide eyes and parted lips, as she stared at something over my shoulder.

"What? What is it?" I demanded, something inside me prickling at the startled mask she was wearing.

"Look," she mumbled under her breath, indicating the space behind me once more. I inclined my head in that direction just as we were pulling to a stop in front of the house. Aunt Valencia killed the engine as soon as we halted behind the familiar sleek, black vehicle there.

The cold fury I had experienced upon seeing Mr. and Mrs. King at the orphanage quickly bubbled up again, simmering so dangerously I almost broke a sweat. My jaw clenched painfully at the sight of Fang lounging on the front steps, his black attire standing out starkly in the daytime. He stuffed his hands in his pockets as he stood upon my slow, trailing approach.

"Hey," he said softly when my shoes found their way to stand in front of him. I peered wordlessly at him, my teeth gritted so tightly I thought I might cause permanent damage. His greeting was met with no 'hello' of my own.

His brow furrowed the tiniest bit as I continued to say nothing. The others were just passing us on the sidewalk though, heading to the house. My explosion would have to be somewhere else; someplace they couldn't witness it. Without a thought after that I turned on my heel, stalking off down the pavement. Vaguely I heard Fang's almost silent footfalls drop into step behind me, as he tread quietly after me. No questions asked. Good for him.

I continued to lead him down the street, glaring straight ahead. Cars passed and doors could be heard opening and slamming shut, but none of it really registered to me. I was too angry; my fuming coloring my vision red. Everything happening to all those people -their lives- were completely separate to mine at the moment.

Eventually we reached the corner, an intersection of my street and the next. My feet followed that path, turning around the edge of the building without conscious thought from myself. Fortunately, the small stretch of road there dropped off at a dead end, which was completely barren and deserted.

Perfect.

With no further indication I rounded on the unsuspecting Fang, with precise and lightening fast movements I could only sum up to my time spent street fighting. Before he -or even I, really- knew it, his back was slammed into the rough, hard brick of the building. He was undeniably stronger than me, and probably could have escaped my grip fairly easily had he tried, but he seemed to sense that it was better for him if he just stayed put. That being done, my hands remained curled around the cloth of his shirt at his collar, my glowering face murderous and very close to his.

"Tell me you didn't know," I hissed through gritted teeth, blood boiling even more so than at the sight of his parents. That betrayal was slim in hindsight of what it would be if he knew what they were planning.

"Max, I know you're mad. I-"

"Tell. Me. You. Didn't. Know," I snapped again, enunciating every world carefully. A flicker of confusion raced across his face before it was gone, replaced by the same emotionless mask he always wore.

"Know what?" he demanded, dark brows furrowed so that the space between them puckered.

"About your parents," I spat, lips curling back in disgust at the image of them, trying to win Angel and Gazzy's hearts. A feat they were never going to achieve. Not if I had anything to say about it.

"What about my parents?" he asked uneasily, shifting from one foot to the other.

"Tell me you didn't know what they're trying to do," I insisted, a note of pleading entering my voice. I trusted him. Probably more than anybody else, even when he was acting so shady lately. If he had known . . . and he hadn't told me . . . I didn't know what I'd do.

"What are they trying to do?" he inquired, sounding the slightest bit exasperated now, at the way I was dodging around answers.

"Tell me you didn't know they're fighting us for the rights to the adoption of Angel and Gazzy!" I screamed in his face, unable to handle it any longer. My shoulders drooped, and my hands slowly slid from where they were holding him against the stone. I felt drained; like I could use a few days of sleep and then some.

"What?" He couldn't hide his shock on that one, even if he was Mr. Emotionless. The immense relief that rushed through me was practically tangible in the little space between us.

He hadn't know. He hadn't know. He hadn't know.

"The agency told us that another couple was interested, but we didn't think much of it to be honest. Then they gave us permission to visit Angel and Gazzy . . . and they were there. Your mom was holding Angel's hand and they were all laughing, and your dad was just sitting there like he owned the place . . . and . . . and."

I squeezed my eyes shut tightly as Fang's arms came around me, pulling me to his hard chest. He held me closely to him, his lips right by me ear as he continued to speak, saying: "Max, why didn't you tell me about any of this? I would have . . ." he trailed of uselessly. Because he knew, and I knew even better, that there was nothing he could have done.

His words pierced straight through me though, stinging though he meant them to be comforting. I immediately shoved him away, my anger from before returning full force.

"Why didn't I tell you?" I demanded furiously, eyes narrowed. "Maybe because you're never around for me to. Did that ever cross your mind? Because it's a little hard talking to a ghost, Fang. Unless you've somehow managed to turn invisible and I just didn't know it."

Fang sighed, reaching out a thumb, which he then proceeded to run down the side of my face. His obsidian eyes were shrouded in something I couldn't decipher, but did I catch the briefest glints of guilt manifesting there amongst the inky depths? Wordlessly he drew me to him once more, his arms which I always felt were so strong, capable and safe pressing me to him with a new kind of pressure.

"I'll talk to my parents as soon as I can," he promised, his voice low and strained in my ear, as his lips hovered somewhere near my forehead.

I nodded, finding that at some point my throat had closed up completely.

"I'm going to fix everything, Max. I'm going to fix everything."

For some reason, I had the itching feeling he was talking about more than just his parents.

- }{ -

I was none too surprised to find Ella and Nudge waiting patiently (in a way that suggests they weren't feeling very patient at all) for my return. At least they had the decency not to pounce on me as soon as I walked into mine and Ella's shared bedroom. Instead Ella continued scrolling through her phone and Nudge didn't stop flipping through the colorful magazine in her hand. Both of their feet were tapping annoyingly against the floor though, and I could tell they were straining themselves not to burst out with questions.

"When did you get here?" I wondered aloud, referring to Nudge's sudden appearance. As I was speaking I kicked off my shoes, watching them fly towards the corner with twin thumps, smacking against the wall before falling in a limp pile on the ground. A smudge was left on the blue paint; the only color Ella and I both agreed on.

"Just a few minutes ago. I was out for a run; you know, keeping in shape and all, when I decided I might as well stop in and say hello. Then your mom asked me to stay for dinner, and I didn't want to be rude and not agree. Besides, my mom is going out on a date with some dude tonight, and I would have been just frightfully lonely all by myself at home," she explained, all in one breath. Impressive teen that girl was.

"And how was it?" I inquired, raising an eyebrow as I cocked my head to the side in question. She stared up at me, her milky brown eyes wide and doe-like. Her wild mane of curls was bursting against the seams of the ponytail she had managed to tame it into, a few tendrils sweeping around her mocha-colored face.

"How was what?"

"Your run," I clarified, stifling my amusement as I appraised her decidedly put together profile. Very unlike that of one who had just gotten done running; no sweat or rumpled clothing in sight. What a liar.

"Oh . . . that." At least she had the decency to blush a tiny bit of scarlet, her gaze dropping to her intertwined hands. I couldn't help but laugh a little after that, plopping down onto my back on my bed. The ceiling above was plain white and nondescript, reminding me of my old room. Once again I was reminded of how much things had changed in just a short amount of time.

"Anyway," I started plaintively, rolling onto my side so that I faced the two friends once more. "I'm sure you have a gazillion questions that you've somehow managed to bite your tongues on thus far. Have at it."

It was like a dam positively exploding after that.

"What did he say?"

"What did you say?"

"Did he apologize?"

"Did you tell him how worried you've been?"

"Did he apologize?"

"Was he still acting strange?"

"Did he apologize?"

"Where was he this weekend?"

"Did. He. Apologize?"

"Wha-"

I threw my hands up, making a 'halt' gesture. It took a few tries, but eventually I got them to shut up long enough for my mind to languidly process all their questions. Glaring at them with a look that suggested I thought they were crazy, which they were, I said: "One at a time would be nice, thanks."

I then proceeded to explain to them what had been said, excluding the mushy, lovey-dovey parts; like where he had kissed me before he left, more force behind it than there had been for quite some time. They didn't really need those kinds of details, though I'm sure that's exactly what they were hoping for.

It wasn't until later that night though, when I was curled up in my bed, that I really had time to mull over the whole exchange myself.

From downstairs I could hear the faintest strings of Ella and Nudge's giggling, where they were stationed in the living room for their little sleepover. Not a moment later, Aunt Val was yelling down at them to be quiet. I knew that somewhere close at hand Mom was either sleeping soundly or, more than likely, wide awake; allowing the contents of the day to replay in her head.

With sudden clarity a line she had spoken to me once drifted through my mind. These walls weren't made for secrets. Yeah, well- these walls were much thicker now. Much, much thicker. There were plenty of things I could hide from her. Things I fully intended to keep from them all.

Those were the last words to enter my thoughts before I was drifting to sleep, falling under the murky blanket of slumber that conceded to cloak me . . .

It was snowing. I could feel the pressure of it brushing like light whispers on my skin. It was surprisingly warm though; not the icy wetness that usually accompanied the precipitation. And besides, it was almost summer again. Why was it snowing?

I opened my eyes to inspect this enigma, only to find my vision completely obscured by the great whiteness before me. Reaching out a tentative finger I plucked a flake from the air, only to find a pristine white feather laying in my palm.

Not snow. Feathers. I was drowning in a shower of feathers. Feathers . . . feathers . . . feathers . . .

My eyes shot open, as a sharp crack reached my ears. It sounded like something a whip would make; fast and agonizing. My gaze immediately shifted to the window, expecting to find the glass a maze-like web of frosted fissures. The pane, however, was as undivided as usual.

I was just relaxing back into my pillows when sudden movement on the other side caught my attention. In seconds I was at the lip of the window, peering out into the night. The sky was a gaping maw, concealing most everything. I couldn't mistake the flash I saw there though.

I was turning away in defeat when I saw it again, this time out of the corner of my eye. On the street below a shadowy figure momentarily stepped into the yellowish glow spilling from a street lamp. They were so far away I couldn't identify features, but there was no mistaking their upturned face, exactly in my direction.

In a heartbeat I was reaching for the edge of the window, my fingers scrabbling against it as I fought to haul it upwards. I didn't have any idea what I was planning on doing- calling out to them? Demanding to know why they were following me? Asking who they were? All I knew was I couldn't loose this chance.

By the time I looked up again though, they were already gone.

Authors Note: Mhmhmhmhmhm. Yeah. So there. Right. Well . . . bye now. OH. Don't forget to review too.

P.S. What kinda sports do you guys play, if any? (: