A/N: Hi.
Okay, I really can't say how sorry I am just with words. Honestly, I feel horrible. I know it's been a month and a half. I actually wrote this chapter about two weeks ago and then it got deleted somehow. I was really proud of it and liked it far better than I liked this version. I just feel terrible, so please forgive me. (And excuse the pun.)
Disclaimer: I don't own Maximum Ride.
"What do you mean, sweetie?" Max asks calmly.
Angel twists the hem of her shirt in her fingers, her eyes darting around on the ground. "I heard stuff," she says, almost too quietly for me to hear. I lean in a little and pretend I'm totally not listening.
Max holds her closer. "Stuff people said or stuff people thought?" she asks, fighting to control the anxious tremor in her voice.
"Stuff people thought," Angel says. She meets Max's eyes. "No, I want to tell you now."
Huh? Oh, she must have been reading Max's mind. Geez, I hate when they do that stuff.
"I mean, it's just stuff I sort of heard. I didn't understand all of it - chunks were missing. And it was from a couple different people."
"From Jeb?"
"No. I didn't get anything from him at all," Angel says, meeting Max's eyes again. "Nothing. It was like he was dead. They kept doing tests, you know, and they were all thinking about me, about the flock, like, wondering where you were and if you would try to come and get me."
"Which we did," Max can't help but brag.
"Yeah. Anyway, I found out that another place has information on us - like where we came from."
Max straightens a little. "Whaat?" she says. "Like our life span? Or where they got our DNA?"
I glance around at the flock, who is suddenly awake. I continue to feign disinterest as Angel nods.
"Well, spill it!" Iggy demands, and Max wastes a glare.
"They have files on us," Angel continues. "Like, the main files. They're in New York at a place called the Institute."
"The Institute?" Max asks, confused. "In New York City or Upstate New York?"
"I don't know," Angel says. "I think it was called the Institute. The Living Institute…or something."
I meet Max's eyes now. We have to go. She nods, her eyes hard.
"There's more," Angel adds, and presses her face into Max's shoulder. I hold back a groan - here come the waterworks. "You know how we always talk about our parents but didn't really know if we were made in test tubes?"
Max nods.
"I saw my name in Jeb's old files," Nudge says stubbornly. "I really did."
"I know, Nudge. Listen to Angel for a minute."
"Nudge is right," Angel blurts suddenly, and like Coke when you add Mentos to it, her secret comes exploding out. "We did have parents - real parents. We weren't made in test tubes. We were born, like real babies. We were born from human mothers."
Okay, this is going to sound really jerky, but at that moment all I could think was, What, as opposed to fake babies?
"You've sat on this since yesterday?" Iggy demands. "What's the matter with you? Just because you're the youngest doesn't mean you have to be the dumbest."
Max sucks in a breath. "Look, let's all calm down and let Angel talk. Can you tell us anything you heard?" she asks Angel gently, smoothing the hair off of her forehead.
"I only got bits and pieces," she says, squirming a little under the pressure. "I'm sorry, everybody. I've just felt yucky…and it all makes me really, really sad too. I don't want to cry again. Awhh, I'm crying again."
I hear Iggy huff impatiently. Wait, Angel's crying? No! No tears! Please, no tears. I can't handle the tears.
It's okay, Angel," I say calmly, trying to make her stop. Please, don't cry… "We understand. You're safe now, here with us."
Nudge fidgets. Max gathers Gaz into her side as well as Angel, bracing herself.
"It sounded like we came from different places, different hospitals. But they got us after we were born. We weren't test tube babies." She sniffs.
What? "How did they get us?" I ask, keeping my face blank. "And how did they get the bird genes into us?"
"I didn't really understand," Angel murmurs. "It sounded like - like they got the genes into us before we were born somehow." She rubs her forehead as if she can somehow bring the memory forward. "With a test? An amino…ammo…"
"Amniocentesis?" Max asks, losing a little more control in her voice. Amniocentesis? Huh?
"Yeah," Angel says. "That's it. And somehow they got the genes into us with it."
"It's okay, just keep going," Max says, seeing our confusion.
"So we got born, and the doctors gave us to the School. I heard - I heard they told Nudge's mom and dad that she had died. But she hadn't."
Nudge starts crying too. "I did have a mom and dad!" she says. "I did!"
God! Why is everyone crying? Okay, yeah, so your parents gave you up/lost you. You don't need to cry. Aren't we a family now?
"And Iggy's mom –"
Iggy tenses.
"Died," Angel chokes out. "She died when he was born."
Iggy looks so upset I kind of feel bad for a second, but then I realize: why is he even sad? So his mom's dead. So what? Not so sound harsh, but he never knew her. A few seconds ago Angel might as well have been telling him that his test tube shattered.
"What about us?" Gaz asks. "How could they get both of us, two years apart?"
Angel wipes her eyes. "Our parents gave us to the School themselves," she says, and starts sobbing again. I pick up a stick to distract myself from the pain on Gaz's face and begin to strip off the bark, watching the brown bits curl to the ground.
"What?" Gaz gasps.
"They wanted to help the School," Angel says, squeezing out the words between sobs. "They let them put the bird genes in us. And gave us away for money."
Okay, that was harsh. Gaz bursts into tears and if I was the kind of guy who gathered people into my side I would grab that kid and give him a big hug. But I'm not that kind of guy.
"Did you hear anything about me? Or Max?" Poker face, Fang. Keep your eyes on the stick.
"Your mom thought you died, like Nudge," Angel says shakily. "She was a teenager. They don't know who your dad was. But your mom thought you died."
The stick in my hand snaps and my heartbeat thuds to a stop.
She was a teenager?
Unknown father?
Whaat?
Dimly, I hear Angel tell Max that she didn't hear anything about her, but it's like I'm listening through a wall.
Your mom thought you died, like Nudge.
They don't know who your dad was.
The stick pieces drop from my limp fingers and fall to the ground. Belatedly, I realize that I'm a total hypocrite, reacting like this when I'd turned up my nose at the others. But those words swam through my head, over and over.
25 words.
Jesus Christ.
She was a teenager.
"Fang."
They don't know who your dad was.
"Fang!"
Your mom thought you died.
"FANG!"
"Huh?" I startle, emitting a very un-manly noise. If Iggy's brain had been working properly at that moment, he would have laughed his skinny white ass off.
"Hey, you okay?" Max asks, peering at me.
She was a teenager.
"Oh, um, yeah," I say, and turn away.
"I can't believe it," Gaz mutters. "They gave us away. They must be sick. Sick jerks. I'm glad I don't know them."
"I'm sorry, Gazzy," Max says, ruffling his hair.
They don't know who your dad was.
I close my eyes, lacing my fingers together and squeezing my palms.
A teenager. What happened there? How - well, I know how she got pregnant - I don't live under a rock - but still, I wonder. Did she choose to - you know -? Or was it forced on her? Was she in her right mind? Or was she drunk? High?
So many depressing questions.
"Angel? It's late, sweetie. Why don't you try to get some sleep? Actually, we could all use an early night."
They told your mom you died.
How did she react? Did she care at all about me? Or did she just go all like, "Oh well, who cares, back to the joint"?
"I think I'm going to sleep too," Nudge says wearily. "I just want this day to end."
Okay, this is bad. Nudge just said a sentence with under ten jillion words.
We d o our stack thing, and then the kids go and lay down, I guess. I start thinking again.
They don't know who your dad was.
Did she know who he was? Was he someone she loved? Or was he just a guy who was unwilling to bring his own condom? Was it her first time or was he just the next guy in line?
Max starts to bank the fire, so I go over to assist her like the macho man I am.
"So maybe you were hatched after all," I say, referencing to an old joke.
This earns a dry laugh. "Maybe. Maybe they found me in a cabbage patch."
"In a way, you're lucky," I say, not meeting her eyes; and then it all comes spilling out. "Not knowing is better. It leaves all the possibilities open. Your story could be worse, but it could also be a hell of a lot better." I rock back on my heels and extend my wings to warms them. "A teenager, jeez. She was probably a crack addict or something." I shake my head slowly.
"Maybe not," Max says in that placating tone she has. "Maybe she was a nice kid who just made a mistake. At least she wanted to actually wait the nine months and have you. Maybe she would have kept you or let a really nice family adopt you."
A mistake, my ass. More like she couldn't afford an abortion. "On one hand, we have a mythical nice family who wants to adopt me. On the other, we have a gang of insane scientists desperate to do genetic experiments on innocent children. Guess which hand I get dealt?"
I lay down next to Gaz and cover my face with my arm. A sudden lump appears in my throat.
Suddenly, I'm exhausted. Half of me wants to put my arm around Gaz and pretend it was a mistake when I wake up in the morning, but I decide not to. Instead, I curl up into a ball and let the blissful blackness pull me under.
Again, I'm sorry this took so long.
Iggy V: Her iPod, which she writes all her chapters on, is broken so the updates are going to be slower because she shares the computer with her mom, dad and sister (depending on which house she's at).
Me: Iggy…V? As in, Iggy vee or Iggy the Fifth?
Iggy V: Iggy the Fifth.
Me: O_o
Iggy V: That means I'm the clone of a clone of a clone of a clone of Iggy.
Me: Yeah, I got that…Wait, how do you know all this stuff about me? Are you some kind of stalker?
Iggy V: -bows- Now don't all of you throw flowers at once.
Me: :-O
Nifty: Yeah, I know, he's creepy.
Mr. G: …?
Me: -facepalm-