The boy stalks down the hallway in a blur of motion, checking around every doorway for Dylan, he used to know this house, but he cannot be sure about where the other boy would be hiding. He can't afford to take any chances with this; with the gun in his hand, preloaded, but with only one bullet locked in its chamber- one should be enough, but still he is cautious. For the moment Dylan does not know that he's here; for the moment Dylan doesn't know that Max has told someone; that Max has told him. He'll find out soon enough.

Another corner comes to pass and he is at the door to the room that's been shared by Angel and Nudge for as long as he can remember. The door is cracked open, not in a way that is overtly obnoxious, just in a way so as to be noticed, in and of itself it is not all that strange. He just can't think to remember a time when the girls had ever left their door open, none, at least when he had lived here. Nudge is one smart kid, and Angel is not too far behind her, almost co-executively they had made the decision to keep their door firmly shut at night. With Iggy and Gazzy as flock members and living under the same roof to boot, there's no telling what could have happened. Can we say, exploding dolls, anyone?

The boy peeks in through the crack, being quiet so as not to disturb the one girl who is asleep in the room, Nudge. Across from her the twin bed normally used by Angel is bloated with stuffed animals, but not the seven-year-old. The blankets are turned down; messy. His blood runs cold.

He wouldn't have; his head is shaking, denial thickly rooted and swimming through every pore in his body. Dylan wouldn't mess with a seven-year-old… he wouldn't mess with Angel… he couldn't. Surely he couldn't have… he couldn't have messed with Angel… could he? Not Angel, no, not Angel.

But still doubt rigs at the edges of his mind, after all, Dylan had messed with Max. The thought is hard to dispel. Dylan had messed with Max, and Max is the toughest person the boy has ever met. Dylan had messed with Max… so what's there to stop him from messing with Angel?

She's only seven, and suddenly her age is a disadvantage; her greatest disadvantage. She may be an incredibly-powerful-flying-bird-kid, and she may have amazingly-accurate-mind-reading-abilities, not to mention kick-ass fighting skills, but at the end of the day, she's only seven. Dylan is fifteen. Suddenly he is running; running faster than he has ever run in his life, white-hot rage putting a stint in his vision.

If he's laid a finger on Angel- The boy is shaking, his body so far out of his control that the walls seem to leap out at him; he is amazed to find that he has not yet ran into one. It was one thing when it was Max- one thing to rape your girlfriend; a fifteen-year-old who can fight for herself… but it's another altogether to… to even think about touching Angel. Angel, who is his baby; Angel, who is everyone is the baby of everyone in the flock; Angel, who is just seven-years-old, and already seen more in her life than most adults ever will.

He can't see the doors as he passes, can't see the walls so he goes by memory, his eyes hardly able to connect with his hands to open the door to Dylan's room. The door crashes into the wall with a bang, and he almost smiles with the clang of it; his mind does not rightly feel his anymore. The little girl is there, sitting on the edge of the bed, Dylan is next to her; his hand clamped tightly around her knee. If he would look up he would see that Angel's eyes are wide; that she's frightened. The boy doubts that he cares one way or the other. The other boy's face is as smug as ever, as angelic as ever, if you didn't know better you would assume he's just a concerned-older brother comforting his little sister. The boy knows better.

"Get the fuck away from her." The boy keeps his voice low, let's Dylan know that he is serious; in the shadow of the doorway he holds the gun, being careful not to reveal it before he can use it. He'll get Angel out of here first; he won't let himself shoot till she is out of here; he just won't do it. He won't risk hurting her over Dylan; not over Dylan.

She looks up at him, something dimly like hope flickering in the whites of her eyes, something in the way of happiness joining it. But just as suddenly they die, from the corner of his vision he can see the hand on her knee tighten. Her eyes sparkle over; if she cries he's going to shoot the son of a bitch on the spot, he'll deal with the aftermath later.

Dylan looks up at him, the expression in his eyes one of disdain; he makes no move to hide it; if anything he revels in it. "Fang, what a nice surprise," His voice, like his words, tells just how nice how he thinks the surprise really is. "You'll have to excuse us; we were just getting ready for bed."

He nods, a sneer warping his face, "Yeah, yeah I'm sure you were, you sick fuck." At a war within himself he fights regret at saying these things in front of Angel, but knowing at the same time that if he hadn't she would have seen them in his mind, anyway. He lowers his voice slightly; trying to make sure it is gentler before he turns his attention towards the little girl. "Come over here, Angel."

She doesn't hesitate. Dylan's grip on her leg doesn't loosen, but somehow she manages to break free easily enough, he feels a sharp wave of something, he can only guess pride, run through him. When she is close enough he grabs her, shoving her behind his back with extra safety to make sure she is not in the way of the gun. She nods at him briefly to show that she understands. He nods back, trying to give a smile before forcing the words through his lips. "I need you to go to Iggy's room, okay, sweetheart? You need to go, wake up Nudge if you can, and then go to Iggy's room. Tell him to lock the door and tell him I'll be there in a few minutes, okay?" His words are barely above a whisper and if Dylan's heard him he's not showing it. Angel nods and then she's gone, he's alone with the perv.

His sigh seems like too much to be called merely one of relief. The kids are together. As long as it stays that way they will be okay, if anyone is going to be hurt tonight it is going to be Dylan, and if God's in a self-righteous mood, maybe himself, but it will not extend past this room. The rest of his flock is in Iggy's room, and Iggy will protect them, Iggy can protect them; they'll be safe.

"I'm guessing you talked with Max?" He does not sound particularly interested, does not sound as though he is concerned at all. If anything the tone in his voice is more matching that of aggravation, if anything it matches annoyance. "It really is sad, you know. If anything she's become an even greater liar than before, sometimes I wonder if she even realizes she's doing it anymore. You might imagine it's hard to take anything that she says true, or, at least you might if you hadn't run off. If you hadn't left her here to break… really there's no help for it." He is taunting, but still parts of his words ring true, Max's voice, broken on the phone, is the only thing he has to reinforce that, but it's enough.

"That's weak." His voice is shaking, the rage that ran through his muscles now escaping in barely comprehensible sentences. "That's weak and you know it. I left over a year ago, everyone else seems to have gotten over it fine, in fact, you're the only one who has so much as mentioned it to me, anyway." It is not exactly true, but at the moment it works. "As for her being a liar, she might very well be; in fact, if you had actually grown up with this flock, you might actually know that. Max is a master when it comes to survival, and if surviving means lying, then hell yes, she's got to be the one hell of a pathological liar." He is shaking again, the rage stretching through every part of him, his body almost on fire with it; voice rising so much that his throat feels hoarse with it; he doesn't lower it. "However, I have never, in all the years that I have known her, received a phone call from her, in the dead of night, where she was crying so hard that, for a moment I could hardly make out her words." His free fists clench and unclench and he looks around desperately for somewhere to release all this energy- this energy that is almost so strong it is close to being physically painful. "I can count the number of times that I have seen her cry… every one of them… on one hand... all of them were awful. God," He gives a humorless laugh that he hardly is able to recognize as his own, "God, they were all awful."

A deep breath, a moment to steal himself, "You wanna… you wanna know what the worst one was though? You wanna know what the worst one was, by far? Well, before… before it was the time I found her on the beach trying to kill herself by cutting a fucking chip out of her arm with a seashell. I'd thought, for the longest time, that that was the worst I would ever see her, God, I wish… I really wish it was. But… but you know what… what you did…" He takes a breath, seething so hard that he can hardly get the words out through the tremors running through his body. "What you did… you… you fucker, you completely fucking ruined her! You destroyed her. Yes, she may be a pathological liar, but she's not an Oscar-winning actress. And let me tell you, if she was lying… if she was lying she just put on the best… as far as I can tell… the best fucking performance of the year." His lungs feel raw from shouting, but it does not matter… not anymore.

Dylan appears to be unfazed by all of this, even having the nerve to look bored, "Are you done now?"

"Just about." He nods, reaching behind him and pulling the gun from its hiding place, his voice low enough so as to be considered frightening, he wastes no time thinking about it. Wastes no more of his time with speeches, he has gotten his point across. So, very quietly the words come.

"Rape this, asshole."

Pulls the trigger.

A/N: Wow, this was intense to write, I'm sorry that I waited so long, but I really can't think strait right now and you'll just have to believe that I've not been staying away on purpose. I hope you all enjoyed this, and I hope you all review, because if you don't I really don't have the time or the motivation to keep writing it. I want to know what all of you think… I myself am anxious to see what is going to go down in the next chapter… so please, please, please, give reviews!