I can't take it anymore. There's so little left, too, that I'm just gonna post it all and be done with it.

Ugh. I'm so tired. How 'bout you guys just read it and I'll go take a nap. Sound good? Awesome.

Chapter Forty-Eight

Max

I was worried about Iggy, despite Nudge's warnings that worrying was one of the main causes of acne. Pimples were the least of my problems right now.

"I think you should talk to him," I told Fang. He laughed.

"Yeah, because we both know how well that went all the other times I've tried to talk to him," he scoffed. I breathed a sigh.

"Yeah, but there's something more to him than just being pissed off at you," I tried to reason. "He never got the right guidance from a guy role model, what with you screwing us over and whatnot. That's why his brain is so screwed up."

"Okay, I'll try to talk to him," Fang agreed reluctantly.

That was about when my mom walked back in. She announced that we were going home soon and that I should get ready. Mom had everything prepared. I had no idea how she was always so organized. Apparently, while I had been sitting around in my little makeshift hospital bed, she had gone home and gotten all the baby things she'd gotten prepared behind my back. She helped me to the car. We'd waited until it was late and all the office personnel had gone home for the night. Then we left and Dr. Nicholson locked up and went home. My mom helped me secure Little One in a baby car-seat and we went home.

Since my mom's car only held, like, five people, Fang, Ella, Little One, my mom, and I all went back in the car. Iggy, Nudge, Gazzy, and Angel all flew back on their own.

"He's so…perfect," I said, staring down at Little One, who was fast asleep in the car-seat. Fang, with his arm wrapped around my shoulders, looked into the seat and squeezed me.

"He's pretty close," he agreed. I furrowed my eyebrows and looked up at him.

"What do you mean, 'he's pretty close?' " I demanded. He shrugged one shoulder.

"Max, he's a mirror image of your dead half-brother," he said. My eyes burned with tears. Fang noticed I was crying again.

"Oh, shit, Max. I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"It's fine," I said, dismissing his comment with a wave of my hand. He was right, though. I didn't know how I was supposed to take care of a baby who looked exactly like my dead brother.

"Max?" Fang said, trying to peer around me to see my face. "Are you okay? I'm sorry."

"I'm fine. It's just…" I broke off, trying to decide what it was. "It brings back a lot of bad memories," I finally decided.

We were silent the whole way home. Little One stayed asleep, and my mom and Ella just kept quiet (for once). I was still shocked that Fang and I had created this being. He was so perfect, despite Fang's protest. I mentally stuck my tongue out at him.

We finally pulled into the driveway. A few lights were on and I assumed that the rest of the flock had beaten us back to the house. I was so glad that they were with me, that they'd stuck with me the whole time, no matter how scary I'd been. My mom helped me get Little One out of the car and we carried him into the house.

"Welcome home," I whispered into my baby's face. "Welcome to the flock, Little One."