Disclaimer: I claim no right to the Maximum Ride universe. Let me know if you want me to continue this story. I have one more chapter, but I'm not sure if I should put it up. Please review! Much Love!
Fang felt as though he were flying with fifty pound weights strapped to each of his limbs as he made his way home in a daze. Never once in his whole life had he considered a world without Max and the reality of it was still sinking in.
After waking from his drug-induced nap with her blood still on his hands, he had lost complete control of himself. He couldn't remember anything that had happened, but his knuckles were flayed open and he could barely swallow because his throat was so raw. He wouldn't be surprised if he started coughing up blood.
He took a dizzying dip as he momentarily forgot to flap his wings, but recovered quickly. The cold air did little to revive him, but he knew that it was imperative that he get back to the flock. It was a certainty that he would be non-functional for quite some time, but she had been right. There was no one else to lead them. There was no one else that could be considered to take her place.
Setting his jaw, he pushed onward with the single-minded determination that often had her yelling at him for one reason or another. Once, it had even gotten him a kiss.
He plunged toward the earth again, and again managed to recover before he became a bird-kid pancake. That kiss. The kiss that had changed everything for him. The kiss that had made him realize exactly what she meant to him and exactly what he would do to keep her safe. Sure, his brain had started making the transition from seeing her as his sister to seeing her as the love of his life prior to that, but the feel of her mouth on his had awakened a possessiveness inside of him. He knew her far too well to try to curb her impulses and he definitely hadn't wanted to take over being leader, but he had felt physical pain every time she looked at him with doubt and fear in her eyes. She had been his world.
Leaving her had been the stupidest thing he had ever done. But being there, seeing her torn between her mission (along with Dylan) and him, the right choice was clear. He had thought that his letter would have been enough to reassure her that he hadn't left because he didn't love her. He had left because he loved her too much. If the world was really coming to an end and if she was really supposed to save it and if she couldn't focus on doing what she needed to because he was there, then he couldn't doom the world (and her) because he was too selfish to let her go.
And now, here he was, flying home alone with her blood on his hands and her feather in his backpack. He would never again get to see that special smile on her face as she watched the others play in the ocean. He would never again lay beside her in a cave or in the woods or even in their own beds and know that she was safe because he could hear her breathing. He would never again feel the soft tremble of her body as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed a light kiss just below her ear.
With a hoarse shout, he grabbed his head, trying to force her from his brain long enough to let him get home alive. There is no one else. Her words echoed in his head and it was just the push he needed to make it.
He wasn't sure how long it took for him to the house that he had once called home, but what seemed like endless hours of flight later, he managed to catch sight of it in the distance. Relief and dread swept through him in equal parts as he approached the familiar shingled roof. As he circled around to land, the skylight was kicked open and Ratchet and Iggy were scrambling up out of the house to watch him land.
Fang nearly ate it as he dropped the last few feet to the roof and his knees gave out from sheer exhaustion.
Ratchet was right there to brace him, saying, "Whoa, man. Take it easy."
Iggy was right on his other side. "Hey, Fang. Glad you made it." He waited a second while Fang recuperated and tilted his head to the side. Unable to see his friend, he lifted his face to the sky and asked, "Where's Max?"
Fang opened his mouth and shut it again, his eyes locking with Ratchet's and seeing the sympathy even behind the sunglasses. He was saved from answering by an ear-splitting shriek of pure misery from the house below.
"What the hell?" Iggy swore and practically dropped him to race back into the house.
Ratchet just gripped his shoulder. "I'm really sorry."
Fang nodded and straightened away from his friend. "Thanks." The word felt like sandpaper. Squaring his shoulders, he followed Iggy back into the house. As he moved down the steps, he noticed the entire group had gathered in the living room around a hysterical Angel and their faces turned toward him almost as one.
"What's going on, Fang?" Nudge asked, she looked so young and scared as she tried to comfort the sobbing girl. "What happened?"
He felt a thousand years old as he looked into the faces of his first family. Gazzy was white as a sheet, staring at him with huge blue eyes. Iggy wasn't looking at him, but Fang knew he had already gotten the message by the sound of his breathing. "I-"
Angel broke away from the rest of them and threw herself into his arms. He had to call on the last of his reserves to keep from shattering right there in front of them all as he clutched her tightly to his chest. "Max isn't coming back," he finally bit out.
Dylan pushed to the front and got right in his face. "What do you mean she's not coming back?"
"I mean that she's not coming back."
Dylan looked as though he couldn't quite process what he was hearing. "Why not?"
White hot rage flared to life and Fang practically roared, "Because she's DEAD!"
Angel seemed to sob even harder and both Gazzy and Nudge burst into tears at his blunt and enraged delivery. Iggy lost all color in his face and sat down very suddenly. His own team wore varying expressions of shock.
Dylan stood frozen for a few seconds and then struck out with his fist, catching Fang across the face and nearly making him drop Angel. Maya was there, silent and quick, pulling Angel from his arms as Dylan shouted, "What did you do to her?"
Exhaustion dropped away and Fang wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. Quick as lightning, he punched the other boy twice even as the others were starting to protest.
"Dylan, I don't think that -" Iggy started, but the boy was too far gone in his grief and rage to listen to reason.
"He was the last one with her," Dylan snarled. "She looked just fine when I left."
Fang narrowed his eyes and Gazzy shrank back against Nudge. "She was dying when you left." His hands curled into fists. "You didn't know her well enough to figure out when she was hiding something."
Dylan opened his mouth to retort, but Kate stepped between them with Iggy at her back.
"That's enough, boys," she said. "We have plenty to deal with without the two of you going at each other. Go get cleaned up, Fang. You," she snapped, pointing at Dylan. "Can go take a spin around the Rockies until you can come back and behave."
Iggy grabbed a hold of Fang's shoulder and dragged him back toward the bedrooms while the rest of the gang kept Dylan from having a clear path. When they were in the hallway, Fang shook off Iggy's grip and slumped against the wall. The red-head stood there with his hands deep in his pockets.
"Was it bad?" he asked quietly.
Fang looked up at his friend and nodded.
Silent tears streamed down Iggy's face. "Wer-were you with her, at least?"
"Yeah. I held her as long as I could," Fang said. He would spare them the details if he could. "She was - satisfied."
Iggy scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed.
Fang straightened away from the wall and slid his bag off his shoulders. "I'm going to take a shower and then we can talk." A wave of dizziness hit and he drew a breath. "Maybe sleep after the shower, but we'll figure it out."
"We'll be okay. All of us," he reassured Iggy and slipped into the bathroom. Locking the door behind him, he dropped his pack on the floor and stripped off his shirt as he turned on the water. His control was hanging by a thread and he was nearly ready to lose it again when a soft knock came at the door.
He stumbled over and flipped the lock quickly, the bottom of his stomach dropping out when he saw who it was.
Maya stood outside with a pile of clothes and a towel in his hands. "Thought you might need these." Her familiar brown eyes widened as she saw him. She reached out and put a hand on his abdomen, the heat of her touch burning him. "Damn, you look like you've been beaten like hell."
Without thinking, he recoiled. He knew that she was different; he knew that she was her own person, but even so, he couldn't quite manage to look her in the eye as he took the offering and stepped back.
Deliberately, she pulled her hand back and slid it into her pocket. Her voice trembled in a way that hers never would have as she spoke. "I'm sorry. I-I didn't think about...I'll go." She whirled around to dash down the hall, but he grabbed her arm.
"No," he said firmly as he finally dragged his gaze up to meet hers. It felt like a sucker punch to the gut, but he reminded himself again that she was someone completely different. "Don't. I'm just - It's hard."
She nodded slowly. "If you say so."
He squeezed her gently and let go, forcing his brain to remember that she was her own person. He refused to give in to the desire to pretend that she was still alive. Closing the door as she moved back down the hall, he flipped the lock again and leaned hard against the wood. It tore him apart to see her and it was completely unfair to the both of them. With a low growl, he stripped off the rest of his clothes and, ignoring the pain of abused muscles and broken hearts, he climbed under the spray.
Relief washed over him with the water and he simply stood there letting it sluice down his body. The layers of sweat and blood slowly melted from his skin, taking with it what small amount of self control he had managed to regain on the flight home. Soon his limbs were shaking too violently to support him and he crashed to his knees in the tub. The tears spilled from his eyes again, but he could almost pretend that it was simply the water running over his face. And though he made no sound, he let it all go.
Seconds, minutes, hours later - he had no idea -, Fang got to his feet and gave himself a quick once over with a bar of soap before shutting off the water. Feeling empty and drained, he toweled off, smeared ointment over his ruined knuckles and wrapped his ribs before pulling on the spare set of clothes. He hung the towel up on the rack and scooped up his backpack before stepping back into the world.
Nudge was right there, taking his hand and pulling him down the hallway to the bedrooms. He made as if to head for his old bedroom, but Nudge tugged on him and shook her head. "I think you should stay in her room," she said, her normal ebullience dulled by their loss. When he made to protest, she set her jaw and folded her arms. "Dylan's in your room anyway."
His scowl would have been enough to send any of his own team running, but Nudge just opened Max's door. She gave him a gentle push and shut the door behind him.
Instantly, a thousand memories crowded into his brain and as he took a deep breath of air, he nearly collapsed under their weight. Almost in a daze, he stumbled toward her bed. The sheets were still unmade, as if she had just gotten up for breakfast. His pack slipped from nerveless fingers and he tipped over onto the bed face first. Her scent still clung to the fabric and he inhaled a lungful of mountain air, feathers and sunshine. His fingers curled into a fist, clutching the comforter as if it were his only tie to life and he swiftly drifted off to sleep.
Some time later, a small noise pulled him from a state of blissful nothingness and his eyes snapped open. He heard the noise again, a soft sniffle and the creaking of the door. Sitting up, he was unsurprised to notice that he wasn't alone in bed either. Angel lay next to him, her pale skin blotchy from crying and her breathing erratic though she slept from pure exhaustion. Total was already asleep across her feet. Raising his eyes to the door, he jerked his head at Gazzy and Nudge. They moved forward and climbed onto the bed with him. Fang shifted so that Angel and he were right in the middle, allowing Gazzy to curl up on the other side of Angel and Nudge to wedge herself in against Fang's back. He felt her bury her face against his shoulder blades and his shirt was quickly dampened from her tears.
There was a soft click as the door was shut and the bed dipped as Iggy joined them on the other side of Nudge. Fang had never been a touchy-feely person, but laying there with his first family around him as they mourned the glue that had held them all together simply felt right. Angel grabbed his hand and one by one, the others added their own and they all took comfort in the touch.
The next few weeks were a blur in which he managed to function simply because his body was on autopilot. He set ground rules for the house, assigning each of the kids something to do to keep the place in order as now there was nearly twice the population that it usually held. Most of his own team hadn't ever been to the mountains and so he set up little day trips for them all to take to give them a reason to get out of the house and learn something about the area. He also had them training in rotations, each working to their own strengths, much like Max had always done. He kept himself busy with research and organization and training so that most of the time he was too exhausted by the time he went to bed to even dream.
Every so often, he would have a brief space of time to himself with nothing to do and that was when his darkest moments happened. Usually it was when he'd run into his room, her room, to grab something and he would get struck all over again by the familiarity of the space. He would remember the nights when they were young that he would wake up to the muffled sounds of her nightmares and creep from next door to wake her up. He would then sit with her on the window seat, sometimes speaking, sometimes not, until she felt safe enough to go back to sleep. And later nights when he snuck over for no other reason than to breathe in her scent and feel her under his fingers because he couldn't stand another second without being by her side, without reassuring himself that she was still there.
He had known she would be upset by his leaving, that she would hate him, but he hadn't ever considered that she would think that he didn't love her anymore. She had been his entire reason for existence and taking off had nearly killed him, but he had felt that if it gave her, if it gave their family even the slightest chance of better odds of survival, then there was no choice at all.
And then there was one night that he couldn't quite manage to keep the thoughts at bay. As he lay on his bed trapped in a whirlwind of memories instead of dreams, a soft, cool hand pressed against his face and a whisper drifted through his mind.
Wake up, Fang.
He shoved hard against the voice, somehow craving the pain of his memories because they were his last connection to Max. He was sitting on the ledge of a cave somewhere in the woods, his lips still tingling from kissing Max and cursing the luck that she felt running was preferable to kissing.
Wake up, Fang.
He scowled and shoved again, this time a small cry jolted him from his dreams. Blinking eyes heavy with sleep and confusion, he glanced over the side of his bed to see Angel sitting on the floor several feet away. She blew a strand of hair out of her face and gave him an annoyed look.
"That you?" he said, irritation blooming in his chest that she would stick her fingers into his brain.
She huffed and got up. "I was just trying to be nice about waking you up instead of screaming in your ear." Her bottom lip trembled and she instantly looked like the seven-year-old that she was.
With a sigh, Fang sat up and scooted over, holding the sheets out so that she could slip in next to him. It was sometimes hard to remember that she was still just a little girl despite her ability to delve into cognitive thought.
She picked up Celeste and got into bed next to him, her small arms folding the bear tight against her body as Fang's folded around her. "Jeb's going to call tomorrow."
The string of very strong words and memories flashing through him caused her to physically recoil from him and Fang instantly shut down that line of thought. He squeezed her gently in apology and rubbed the spot at the base of her wings to soothe her. "What for?" he asked without all the venom that he felt.
Angel shrugged. "I can't tell you, but you have to listen to him. It's - it's important."
Fang said nothing.
"Please, Fang? Promise me?"
He made the mistake of looking down into her giant blue eyes and knew there was no point in resisting. "Fine. I will listen, but that's all, Angel. I can't promise anything else."
A brilliant smile, the first since the day they broke her out, spread across her face. "Thanks."