Damn it, I keep missing the one week mark by a day. I actually had most of this one written by last night, but I had to go to sleep before it was fully completed. Oh gosh. Work is the the worst. But at least I get paid. keke

/casually nudges you to the review button/ Like it, hate it? Any suggestions and comments are always welcomed!

Thank you so much for reading! You guys are amazing 3

Cheers~

The next few days pass relatively quickly. A few other teenagers come by the building, and every single time, Iggy and I are immediately on edge. More often than not, I start shaking, the tremors wracking through my body. My mind always snaps to the possibility that the School had found us again, that I would be plunged back into a world of pain inside a dog crate.

The teenagers turned out to be Fang's friends. Some were completely human, and others were experiments who had escaped from the School. They were never around for too long, mostly just exchanging short hushed conversations with Fang.

I caught a few of their curious glances as I shook on the bed, my knees pulled up to my chest, and Iggy sitting beside me. He didn't move at all, but I could feel the tension rolling off his body.

When a few of Fang's acquaintances stayed for over an hour, they were usually introduced to us. I didn't touch any of them. How could I, when I couldn't even stand contact with Fang and Iggy yet?

There was Leo, who had glowing yellow eyes like a cat, or a demon. Tara flitted about, like she couldn't keep still. It wasn't difficult to see that she had something close to super-speed. Nick was a cyborg, his robot parts sometimes glowing through the fabric of his clothing. When he saw my gaze fixed to a glowing spot on his wrist, he grinned at me before clenching his fist. A deadly-looking canon sprouted over his hand. My eyes widened a little. He winked before allowing his hand to relax, the canon retreating back into his body. Fang had nudged him with a small smile, returning Nick's attention back to the laptop and whatever they were working on.

Iggy and I just watched them work, their hushed whisper never allowing us to hear more than a few words at a time.

I wonder what was going on. Whenever I caught Fang's eye and sent him a questioning look, he only shook his head at me with what was supposed to look like a reassuring smile. Right.

At least now my body doesn't hurt too much. Iggy says that the chemicals seemed to be fading from my body. I feel a little bit uncomfortable when he says that, not forgetting that he has x-ray vision now.

Fang's still worried about me. He says that I feel like I'm running a fever. Iggy says that I'm not sick. I don't feel sick. I just feel weak.

At least two weeks have passed since Iggy and Fang have rescued me from my dog crate. Today I'm leaving the safety of Fang's small home for a little while at least. Fang is taking both of us grocery shopping, saying that we both need a walk in the sun anyways.

It's true, I suppose. I've spent most of those two weeks sitting on the bed or couch, bracing myself for another wave of pain. The pain comes less and less often, but it doesn't lessen the pain when it does strike.

Either way, I find myself walking out on the streets, with Fang and Iggy flanking me on either side.

I suppose I should've seen it coming. We were walking right next to an alley. One moment, Iggy was on my left, and the next, he wasn't. I whip around the moment I felt his presence disappear. A small cry leaves my lips when I see him being held with a knife to his throat by someone with a mask on.

That small cry is the only thing that leaves me before another man dressed similarly grabs me and presses a sharp knife into my back. Fang is surrounded by two more men, who force him to back into the alley. All four men are armed.

We're at an extreme disadvantage. Iggy and I are held at knife-point, and Fang can't extend his wings and fly away, not in this narrow alley.

The man holding me tightens his grip on my forearms. Panic bubbles up my throat in the form of a tiny whimper. Fang's jaw clenches at the barely audible sound, but he can't do anything, not with knives pointing at me and Iggy, and a gun pointed at him.

"Shut up, bitch," the man snarls in my ear. His face is so close to mine that I can smell his foul rotting breath and feel his unkempt beard poking at me from underneath his mask.

A shiver runs down my spine, and that soon turns into a tremble that I can't seem to stop. My body shakes in his hold, causing him to press the blade of his knife harder into my back.

"Stop squirming, bitch, or I will cut you up," he warns, his voice a menacing gravelly tone. Like he wants to prove his point, I can feel the knife cutting through the flesh of my back.

A trickle of blood runs down the cut, and I hear his snickering behind me. "Don't test me. Otherwise, I might have to tie you up, and have some fun with you. I've always liked the feisty ones. They're more fun to break."

I still myself completely, and am somewhat surprised that my tremors have gone. "There's a good girl," my captor purrs in my ear. My eyes squeeze shut and Cain's face surfaces in my mind unwillingly.

No. Please stop. I cannot stop the onslaught on images that play out in my mind. A lighter in Cain's hand. Cain's sadistic smile. A whip cracking down on my bared torso.

I whimper again, except this time, it builds into a shriek of pure terror. I feel as though I can't breathe. The alleyway feels smaller, everything cramped.

To my surprise, instead of feeling the knife sink deeper into my back, my captor's hands fall away, the blade slipping out of his hands to the ground. I'm shaking. The tremors seem to have come back with a vengeance. My eyes crack open. Everyone else seems to freeze around me. Fang's eyes flick from me to Iggy, and they share a look.

I haven't seen what happened to the man who was holding me. I turn and see him writhing on the ground, his hands covered in flames, flames that seem to be climbing over his body.

Then I catch sight of my own hands. They're covered in flames, too. Blue flames originate from my palm, and orange flames lick down to my forearms, where it singes the edges of my sleeves. It doesn't cause me pain, I'm surprised to find. Or maybe I'm in shock. My eyes widen to impossible sizes and I swallow hard.

Yes. I'm in shock. The other captors have frozen, fear evident in their eyes. Iggy and Fang easily break out of their grasps, and the men in black seem to fall away in fright, they're original intention forgotten. Even the man who was holding me crawls away from me, his screams echoing into the alleyway as he heads off in the direction of his accomplices.

Fang and Iggy also look like they're in shock. They don't chase after the men, but nor do they make any move towards me. Why aren't they panicking? I could actually burn to death.

"Max?" Iggy finally speaks. My hands still haven't stopped sprouting flames. It is only then that I realize my hands have been generating the flames. I set that man on fire. I turn my gaze to Iggy. I'm teetering on the edge of complete overwhelming panic.

The fire climbs higher on my forearms, licking at the air around it. My breathing turns shallow, and I feel like I'm about to scream. Iggy comes closer, ignoring the flames that continually spread. "Max, calm down," he says, his voice soothing.

I look at Fang. He hasn't moved since the men left. His eyes are fixed on my face, completely ignoring the flames shooting from my hands. There's an intensity in his gaze, and I can't figure out what he's feeling.

"Take a deep breath," he murmurs, his eyes never leaving mine. His voice is soft, and I comply, feeling air gust into my lungs. I let out my shaky breath, and feel the flames miraculously retreat back into my palms.

"Again," the corner of his mouth curves upwards the slightest bit in what seems to be meant as a reassuring smile. I do as he says, and when Iggy brushes his fingers against my palm, I almost jump back, scared that he might've suffered the same fate as the other man.

When he doesn't fall away screaming in pain, I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. The flames have all gone, and with it, my strength. My knees give out, and the two catch me so I end up collapsing in their arms.

"Delta Arietid?" I hear Iggy ask faintly. I don't hear Fang say anything in return. Black spots have returned in my vision. I struggle to stand on my own, and finally manage to do so after a few moments. They keep their hands on my forearms, supporting me. I let them. It's not like I have a choice. If it wasn't for them, I would've faceplanted into the ground by now.

Needless to say, grocery shopping is called off for the day. We return to Fang's home, and I don't think I've ever been so grateful to sink onto the couch.

"Max," Fang starts. I look at him. He's sitting next to me on the couch. Iggy's frowning, leaning against the wall. Fang seems to lose his ability to speak. I can read the emotion in his eyes this time though. He's worried.

I can't tell him that I'm alright. I honestly don't know if I am.

"What's happening to me?" My voice is barely a whisper. I can't meet his eyes. I can't even look up to Iggy for comfort. I can only stare at my palms, as though waiting for them to burst into flames again.

Fang says nothing. I think it's his way of telling me he doesn't know.

"I can't stay with you. I don't know how to control this," I mumble. Fang takes my hand, and I flinch, pulling away almost violently. "I can't. I don't want to-"

He cuts me off before I can say anything else, "You won't. I trust you."

But I don't. Either way, I keep my hands out of his reach. For his sake.

I'm truly a freak. The girls back at the mental hospital called me one, too. So did Cain. I don't know if I've ever believed it. Now I do. I'm a full-fledge freak, complete with hands that will set anyone aflame. I should be locked up, somewhere far away where I can't hurt anyone.

"Nobody is locking you away, Max." Fang's voice is soft but stern.

Iggy comes over and sits next to me, "You're not a freak. You're like us. We're all… different."

I stay silent. Some part of me nags that I'm treating them like I did the staff at the mental hospital, and that they deserve better.

"Different isn't bad. You'll learn to control it, in time. You'll figure out what triggers it and how to overcome it," Iggy continues.

I look at him with confusion in my eyes, "How can you be so sure? What if I never learn?"

Fang takes my hand, not letting me shy away this time. He runs his thumb over my knuckles in that familiar gesture of reassurance, "You will. And we'll be right here with you the whole time."

My gaze travels from Fang to Iggy and back again. I feel tears well up in my eyes and then sliding down my face.

I can barely get the next words out of my closing throat, "Thank you."

Then the ceiling breaks open and all hell breaks loose.