So, here it is. Finally. My first non-crap Maximum Ride story. Set pre-TAE

Just a note: THE FRAGMENTS ARE ON PURPOSE. And the capitalization of Angel in The Angel. Those are not mistakes.

Diclaimer: Yeah, yeah. No own. Whatever.

She stood poised on her toes.

Leaning slightly forward. Like a bird. A small bird. A dove. Ready to fly. Ready to take off.

Bathed in golden light. Sun illuminating her golden curls. Giving an odd light to her pure white wings. Making her old and dirty clothing look like that of an... an angel.

She was an Angel.

She was Angel.

She turned around. Like she heard something unusual. Different. Out of place. Odd. Looked around. Hair dancing around her face. Waving in the slight breeze. She tensed. Ready. Ready for an attack. But none came. She exhaled. Turned back. Didn't look again.

Another girl came. Older. Taller. But more worn. Obviously worn. Worried. Stressed. Lines of concern crossed her pale skin. She wasn't an Angel. Brown hair fell in front of her eyes. Brown eyes. Brown wings spread behind her. Dark wings. Wings that were often used. Wings that weren't those of her namesake. She was alert. Very alert. Glancing around. As if searching.

She was the maximum. Or so they said.

The older girl looked at the Angel but said nothing. The Angel nodded. Whispered something. Too quiet, too far away to be heard. The un-Angel turned away. Confused. Slouching. Walked back.

The Angel was smiling. The un-Angel was scowling. The Angel was beautiful. The un-Angel was not. The Angel was pure.

The un-Angel was not.

The dark one came up from behind. Mocha colored wings behind her. Folded slightly. She spoke to the un-Angel softly, glanced at the Angel, and then took the un-Angel's hand and gracefully pulled her aside. Away. Away from the window. Away from the only view inside.

She pushed the panels of the window aside. Glanced back. Saw no one coming. Jumped out. Fell slightly. Snapped out snowy wings. Glided. Flapped. Glided. Flapped. Glided. Flapped.

Flew.

He watched from below. Astounded. Staring at her. Flying. How wonderful could it be? The sky on your wings, freedom. Utter freedom. No expectations. No doubts. Just sky. Just sky and wind.

The Angel circled the property. Not going anywhere, he realized. Just circling. Stretching her wings. Making sure she wasn't still in the nightmare. Making sure it was all real.

He shifted in the bush. His foot had fallen asleep from sitting for so long. But as he changed to a kneeling position, his hand caught on a nail. Probably from a camper long ago. He swore. Loudly.

The Angel heard it. She landed suddenly, near him, searching the long grass. Looked.

Found.

"Ari?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. She pushed through the grasses and then was before him. Just as beautiful. More, even. "What are you doing here?"

"Nothing," he growled. He wanted to lash out. Kill her then. He had to. But... he didn't. "Go. Forget about this. Don't tell anyone."

She was confused for a second. Her eyes clouded over. But then she nodded. Took off.

She was, after all, only six years old.

She was an Angel. Beautiful and pure. Radiant. Perfect. He loved her.

And yet he hated her, so fiery and horribly. Deep down he wanted to tear her apart.

"How long, Ari? How long 'till we're ready?"

He sighed.

"Soon." He cleared his throat. "Almost ready. I just need a bit of time. To finalize everything."

Soon she would die. Soon she would finally get what she deserved. All of them would.

You have a funny way of showing your love, don't you?