Summary: What if Max and the Flock had never gotten "the talk"? What is the outcome of an adolescence without an adult and knowledge of societal norms?
Chapter Eight: So, Why?
Closing the laundry basket shut, I turned around with every intention of finding Fang. I had cleaned myself up and changed into a new set of clothes; the last set had gotten the white mucus-like fluid all over it.
I climbed up the stairs to the second floor from the basement. Fang casually walked past me into his room with nothing but a towel around his neck and pair of loose, dark pajama pants on. Judging from the steam coming out from the side of the bathroom door, he seemed to have just showered. At least I hadn't had to look for him. A thought suddenly struck me and I growled.
"Fang, put some clothes on," I said irritatedly to him. That was a flock rule. Iggy, Fang, Gazzy, Nudge, and Angel needed to maintain some level of civil behavior. I refused to let them walk around the house unhygienic, unbathed or half-dressed. We were genetically engineered human-avian hybrids. Not hobos.
He turned around, his hands pulling down on the towel around his neck. He looked at me with a bored expression on his face, casually bringing up one end of the towel around his neck up to his head to rub his hair dry. I noticed the fair bush of dark hair beneath his armpits. I absentmindedly wondered when he'd started to grow hair there too. I had thought that it was just me.. It suddenly struck me that perhaps that was something that happened once you got older.
"It's not like theres anything you haven't seen, Maximum Ride." he said to me, smirking. There was a mischievous grin on his face, his dark eyes were looking at me with a playful expression that I couldn't quite describe. My face felt red, hot. I could feel my cheeks heating up for the fifth time today. I turned around quickly, so that my back was facing him. Folding my arms, I tried my best to sound as cross as possible.
"Y-you're setting a bad example for the kids. You can't walk around half-dressed. Y-you should get dressed in the bathroom after you shower.. bring your change of clothes with you in there," I said to him, wincing at every stutter that came out of my mouth. I was expecting a half-witted retort, but was confusingly greeted with silence. Suddenly a low voice elegantly seemed to sing into my ear.
"But the kids aren't here now.. are they?" Fang asked me from behind. His lips were dangerously close to ear. I would've shivered if I hadn't been so tensed up. I mentally shuddered, planning to spin around and scold him, but he was gone by the time I had turned, only the slam of his bedroom door reverberating behind him.
I rolled my eyes exasperatedly. Fang, Fang, Fang. Superlatively irritating as always.
I went down into the kitchen to make myself a sandwich. Fang came down to the den 10 minutes later, dressed in a fresh set of clothes.
"Let's go," I said to him. "I left Iggy in charge.. I wonder if the lawns' already been burnt to a crisp," I said jokingly, although a large overwhelming part of me was seriously worried about that. Fang nodded good-naturedly, closing the front door shut behind us. Fang and I flew the short 10 minute distance to the picnic spot we had picked out. A dark shadow was cast over the sloping hill, the sun was beginning to set, the weather getting a bit cooler. I sighed quietly with relief as I couldn't feel any symptoms of my recurring headache underneath the darkening sky.
Fang and I landed gently—his was obviously more graceful than my own, but whatever. We walked the few yards of distance to the blanket and were greeted with the heartwarming sight of our flock. They were all sleeping peacefully, except for Angel, who was sitting up tying together clovers to make a necklace. She looked up at us once we got closer and smiled happily, yawning.
Nudge was curled up with her head pillowed on Iggy's stomach and left hip. Gazzy was exactly like how I'd last seen him, splayed out on the grass haphazardly, except for the fact that he was snoring gently now. Iggy was sleeping flat on the ground, face up, with his head resting on his arms behind his head, Nudge's head pillowed on his left side and stomach. Angel yawned again, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.
I looked at Fang sympathetically. He smiled gently back. They had had a great day.. and for the most part, so did I.. for the most part—yes, that includes the fact that I got Fang to listen to me. The flock was completely pooped.
Fang grunted as he lifted Iggy up over one of his shoulders. He cradled Nudge's form in his other arm. I gently rearranged Gazzy before I picked him up and carried him in my arms, his knees and neck supported by the insides of my elbows. We left the picnic blanket under the tree—its not like anybody would be able to find the spot and steal it anyway—and started to walk back to the E-shaped house. Angel sleepily followed us, her wings subconsciously carrying her, with her feet limply hovering about a foot from the ground. Fang and I walked in utmost silence, to keep from waking them, Fang occasionally grunting, rearranging Iggy on his shoulder. It definitely wasn't easy to support two people—one of which being someone taller than you. But while Iggy was taller than him, Fang definitely had more brute strength and muscle. Jeb had bought him a set of weights for lifting for his 11th birthday, but I don't think he'd put them to any use until just last year.
The intrinsic silence encapsulating us was beautiful. Taking our time, we walked slowly back to the house, carrying the various members of the flock. The sky had gone completely dark by then and fireflies were surrounding us. They were scattering about, flying everywhere, their lighted posteriors lazily making their way around the lawn.
We got back to the house at around ten-thirty. I gave Gazzy to Fang to put away as I went to make a snack for Angel before she headed to bed. Just as I was about to turn around to hand her a peanut butter-jelly sandwich and sliced apples with BBQ dipping sauce on the side of the plate, I heard light snoring behind me. I turned around and found Angel already dozed off on the kitchen counter, her head resting on top of her folded arms. My face softened looking at her innocent childlike demeanor. I set the plate down and picked Angel up, putting her over my right shoulder and carrying her upstairs.
I gently pushed open the creaky door of the room she and Nudge shared with my right knee. Light streamed into their room through the open door from the window in my own bedroom. My face softened as I watched Fang tuck Nudge into the covers on her bed. His face looked gentle, a demeanor he would never normally show, as he brushed stray strands of hair off her forehead, then moving to run his hand down the side of her cheek lovingly. He stared at her for a moment more, and then got up from his kneeling position. He turned around and seemed surprised to see me there, although his face did not betray him, staying perfectly emotionless. It took skill and experience to read Fang the way I could. He and I understood more about one another then we probably understood about our own selves. It was a pretty scary thought, in retrospect, to think that someone knows you better than you yourself do. But that was the essential concept of trust, I suppose.
Fang stood by the door and watched me undress Angel and change her into her pajamas and tuck her into bed. I gave her a kiss on the forehead, brushing the hair out of her face, and then turned to Nudge to give her goodnight kiss as well. I stood up, taking one last look at them before I joined Fang at the door, closing it softly behind me. Leaning against their door in the hallway, I turned around and looked up at Fang.
He knew what I was thinking. He put a hand on my shoulder and looked down at me.
"You're doing a great job Max," he said to me. There was something in his voice that radiated reassurance, but if you had heard him, you would think me delusional. It wasn't obvious, but it was there, and it was for me to hear especially. I could feel whatever he was trying to convey to me even if he didn't say a word. I looked up at him, I would've smiled brilliantly if only I had had the energy to. But he understood what I meant. He quietly said "Goodnight," to me as he walked into his room and shut the door behind him. I heard the click of his lock reverberate into the quiet hallway. I walked forward to the end of the hallway and went into my own room, immediately collapsing onto my bed. Today had definitely been a tiring day.
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My eyes opened wide, a deep gasp escaping my throat. I sat up straight in my bed, clutching my chest, trying to catch my breath. I turned to my right to look out the window. Mentally, I measured the time to be around 3. I turned back, looking down my lap, covered with a thin comforter. I had dreamed that Jeb had come back. He'd come back and everyone was happy, ecstatic. There was a spark, a light in the atmosphere around our house with his presence in my dream. He spun Angel and Nudge around in the air, made wooden car toys for Gazzy, taught Iggy some new recipes, and Fang looked alert, alive, happy.. excited, when Jeb spoke to him. It was just me. Jeb ignored me, completely. He stared at me disgustingly... as if he knew that I had been trying to erase his presence from our house completely. He interrogated me. That I should be thankful to who had saved my life.. that I was an ungrateful bitch. He slapped me. He hated me. He loved everyone except me.
I swallowed hard, as if willing the dream to go away as well. I knew there'd be no use in trying to go back to sleep, not with such thoughts spinning around my head. I got out of my bed, quietly tiptoeing out into the hallway. I stopped in front of the second door on the right side of the hallway from my room at the absolute end. The first door was the linen closet. The second door was Fang's room.
I put my ear to the side of his door, but alas, failed to hear even a breath. I tapped my fist against the door once and then walked back to my room. Opening my window, I jumped out into the cold air of early-spring. Giving myself a boost with a flap of my wings, I landed on the roof with muffled clatter. I climbed the slant to the top. The flattened top had a width of a foot. Gingerly sitting on it, I pulled my knees up and hugged them around my chest, shivering in the cold. I surveyed the area as I waited.
10 minutes later, I heard the shifting of clothes and a shuffle of calloused feet on bare boards. I turned to my right to see Fang sitting there. How is he not cold..?, I thought to myself. He was wearing just another simple nondescript black t-shirt. I was sitting here freezing my butt off wearing long sleeved flannel pajamas.
Nevermind, I thought. It's Fang. I turned back to face forward. We sat there for a while in comfortable silence. Times like these are what made him my closest friend. Without saying a word, it felt like we were having an entire conversation, sharing the most intimate details of our thoughts. The cold air began to feel good, as if it was washing everything off of me.
I was no longer shivering, a certain numbness washed over me. After a long time.. about 40 minutes perhaps, I turned my head over my shoulder to look at him. He was sitting about 3 feet away from me, his chin on his folded arms, propped up on his knees. I turned back. Staring straight ahead, I casually asked him, "How're you feeling?" although the statement itself I took great caution in saying.
"Okay. And you?" he drawled out after a moment of silence. He hadn't gotten what I'd meant by that question. If he had understood the implications of that question, then, well, he'd obviously ignored it.
"Bad dream." I replied quietly
"Oh."
"It was about Jeb."
I looked at him from the corners of my eyes, watching him nod slowly. He blinked once. I turned back.
"Thanks." I said to him quietly. Getting up in the middle of the night to sit here for 45 minutes..
"Anytime," he said, emotionless.
Opening my mouth, I was about to say something, when he cut in.
"Max. Don't tell the kids."
I turned to face him completely. I wondered what he was talking about. Tell them about the dream? Why the heck would I do that? I stared at him for a few minutes, the moon being the only source of light, shining onto our roof. I saw him look at me from the corner of his eye for two seconds before he went back to looking out forward.
"About.. about me." I understood what he was saying now. I stayed quiet, unanswering.
"About what happens to me.." he went on to say, assuming that I still didn't understand. I opted to stay quiet for a moment longer, wondering what else he'd continue to say.
"I.. don't know for sure why it's happening, so.. don't tell them, Max. Just don't. Not until I find out." he said solidly. That had been a seriously long speech coming from Fang. I commended him and decided to stop torturing him and simply answer.
"Okay," I said to him. "I won't tell them, Fang. Not until we figure this out." I noticed his eyebrow twitch at the word "we," but he held back from saying anything. He had consented. He knew he had. There was nothing more he could say to stop me from getting involved.
I need to figure this out, I thought. For Fang's sake.
"Was yesterday the first time?" I asked him quietly.
He shifted while I was asking him the question. Fang's face was emotionless, apathetic. He didn't turn. I could feel his attitude of stubborn defiance radiating off of him from three feet away. He was thinking that although he'd allowed me to help him, it didn't constitute allowing me to interrogate him.
Max scowled.
"It happened again today.. So maybe its like, a once-a-day thing," she started pondering out loud. He'd have to speak up at some point or another, she thought. Might as well try and provoke him.
"It's not," he said quietly. Max stared at him, waiting for him to continue. She hadn't expected him to respond this swiftly.
"It's been happening since the end of December," he said quietly. Max looked startled.
"How.. what.. What have you been doing since then? When?" she couldn't believe she hadn't noticed before. She felt like a failure. She looked at him expectantly, her eyes widened with frustration. It was already mid-April. 3 whole months?
"It.. It's been happening at night.. Like I'd wake up in the morning, and my pants, my sheets, it'd be all over it. Everywhere, it'd just be wet and all sticky. At night, it'd just come out by itself. Automatically," he said offhandedly. He was staring straight ahead, his cheeks resting resting on his palms on either side. He said it as if he were bored. He still refused to look at me. I gulped deeply.
"So.. that's why you've been doing your own laundry," I stated.
"Yup," he said simply.
"Why.. why do you think it happens in the daytime now? And not automatically?" I asked him curiously. Fang paused for a moment before he spoke.
"I dunno," he said quickly. He then swiftly turned around, got up, and hopped down, stepping onto his window guard. I barely caught sight of his bare feet hitting the metal rods before he disappeared.
"See you in the morning," he said from somewhere in the distance, almost like an afterthought.
I stared at the spot he was just in a mere second ago.
I rubbed my arms, the chill suddenly getting to me, before I ducked down and went back into my room to sleep out the few hours I had left before I had to get up.
Thanks for all the reviews! I wouldntve updated if you guys didnt make me so happy. =)
I like being happy.. reviews make me happy.. chapters seem to make YOU happy! Do you see the transitive property of all this? reviews=FASTER, QUICKER, BETTER UPDATES!
lol, so anywho. about the authors note from last time. DO NOT GET ME WRONG.
THERE WILL BE MAX-NESS IN HERE.
I just really dont want this to turn into a mindlessly horny MR fic, like so many out there.
If you haven't noticed this is the 8th chapter, and the story has literally only spanned TWO days. Do you see the pace I'm working on this with?
And like, I write my chapters way ahead of time. Like this chapter was written when I first posted the story. So.. at the moment.. I'm writing the future chapters.. and trust me, the lemons get ALOT more heated. :]
That taken into consideration, I promise you that my readers WILL be satisfied, but you all need to wait a bit for it all.. And anyway, whats more important? Reading random misplaced, irrelevant scenes about max getting turned on, or reading the process of Max getting turned on? OVERALL, its alot more sexually stimulating for me to write the latter :0
Annnd, the plot will progress. This may be a horny M-rated fanfic, but its still a story, not sheer sex, however much it may revolve around sex.. haha.
catch ya on the flip side!! =D