Self Conclusions by Nightwingstar

I wanted to leave you guys with something, seeing as I won't be able to update for the next couple of weeks. I'm starting Band Camp at a hectic pace that won't even give me time to breathe, much less type. I'm sorry I was unable to post the recent chapter of Run Away With Me or 30 Seconds or even It's A Concept. So as I take my leave, I leave you with a new story which will be updated randomly just like all my impulse stories. I hope you understand and thank you all for the great summer of stories and reviews.

To My Goth Faerie: Back to band, didn't I meet you when band was about to start?

Please do not forget, this is an AU fic.

Self Conclusions

Forgetmenot

Today is my birthday.

Or at least, it's what I remembered it to be.

I was born eight years ago when I woke up in the middle of a country road, a nice old man leaning over me with a toothy kind smile. The old man took me to his home on a small ranch where his wife was waiting. His wife was so kind in greeting me, the first thing she did was hand me a chocolate chip cookie, I laughed, and that was the first time I heard my voice.

It was the middle of winter when I was born; I was only wearing a sweater when the old man brought me to his home. They bundled me up in blankets as I warmed by the fire, their old wrinkles crinkling in excitement of having a child.

They took care of the burns on my arms and the scratches on my face and legs and asked me where I came from. I told them I fell from the sky, at least that was the dream I was having before I woke up. They called me their little angel and I shook my head, it felt like that name belonged to someone else. I heard them call their dog in, 'Max!' and my eyes lit up. "That's my name." I told them. And they called me Max.

They asked me when my birthday was and I told them I didn't know, so they baked me a cake I celebrated my first birthday with them.

But the thing is, I was already ten years old.

Fang gazed out the rain streaked window, his fist pressed against it as he sat on the windowsill. His dark eyes were trained, seeing every flicker of moment, from a sudden flight of a bug to the big flashes of lightning but he was looking for someone, waiting for someone.

He had not seen her in eight years and it was she that gave him his name.

A flash of light lit up the dark room, illuminating his pale face and tinged his dark hair blue, he breathed in slowly, so slowly that it seemed like he didn't breathe at all.

Where are you? His brows furrowed in thought.

They died after my sixth birthday.

They were old, far too old to even take care of me. They were so grateful I could help out on the ranch and they loved me so much. Their relatives came in and buried them and they sold my home, never knowing I lived there. I took my things and left my home where smiling faces would never reach me.

I traveled across the country on wings the old woman saw when she gave me a bath. She smiled at me; her eyes watered with tears and said, "You really are an angel." And when I asked her what angels were, she explained it. I managed to live off of fast food and spare change for a year until I was captured by people in white coats, they would laugh at me cruelly before injecting medicines or poisons into my system, it made me begin to lose hope.

Two large hands helped me escape a week later, an urgent voice belonged to them, telling me to head to Colorado, I nodded when the hands handed me my pack before flying out into the sky.

The hands had told me that in Colorado there would be an E shaped house that had my family in it, a home for me to live happily and I followed it blindly but no one was there. No one lived in the E shaped house anymore when I got there. The voice had lied and my spark at life died.

My home with the old man and woman, gone, I was thrown out. My real family in an E shaped house, non-existent. And just when I had thought I couldn't take anymore, I got a head splitting headache. A proper term would go along the lines of brain attack.

I fell out of the sky, crashing through the ceiling and landing on the floor of a musty empty room, a cloud of dust flew out from beneath me and caused me to cough as I rolled around, clutching my head. It felt like knives were driving into my skull and the wielders of the knives thought they weren't stabbing it hard enough.

When the pain finally ebbed away, I sat up and looked around. There was a bed with a mattress; a single note lay upon it. Max's bed, stay off. It read in sloppy handwriting of a boy.

Would this have been my room before my family left? Would my family have been like me?

And then a small prick of pain formed in the back of my mind, a pleased voice entering my thoughts. Welcome home Max, it said, you need to find your family.

"Where do you think we lost her?" Asked a strawberry blonde haired male. Fang shrugged, holding a mug filled with hot chocolate between his hands. Fang gazed into it, thinking of a ten-year-old girl and wondering how much she's grown and if the government captured her.

"There was farm land where she got dropped, Iggy." Fang lifted his head, rattling his brain for memories. "And an old house with a blue roof."

"Wouldn't know," the strawberry blond haired named Iggy shrugged, "I was blind, and in fact I'm still blind." Iggy took a sip from his own mug sitting on the beside table. "But shouldn't we call it quits? I mean most people are considered dead after five years and it's been eight…"

"But she's not dead!" Snapped Fang, the ceramic mug cracking under pressure. His eyes widened before setting the mug on the bedside table so he wouldn't shatter it. "She's alive…" He trailed off, staring out the window once more.

"How do you know?" asked Iggy. "How do you know she's alive if I don't know? You don't have some special connection with her? You don't even have a power like Angel! How do you know?"

"I can feel her." Fang whispered, staring down at his hands. "Whenever I think hard about her, I can feel her pulse and her breath. I can feel when she's scared and shaking with anger and I can feel her tears."

"You sure you aren't imagining it? I mean I can imagine your pulse if I think about it." Iggy gave Fang a goofy look of a cross between confusion and insanity.

"You could," Fang agreed quietly, "but it'd be steady. Whenever I feel it, I can tell when she's sleeping and when she's awake, I can feel when she's on the run and when she's flying, when I feel her pulse I can see the blood running through her veins, and I can almost imagine her face."

"Sure you're not going mad?" Iggy took another sip of hot chocolate only to stick out his tongue in distaste; he had let it grow cold.

"I'm not." Fang assured. His eyes flickered to the window and to the door. "Go to bed and tell Gazzy to stop building that bomb. That ticking noise is getting on my nerves."

"We were hoping you wouldn't notice it, after all, we've been building it since we got here." Iggy picked up the cracked mug and his own as he stood up from the bed.

"And I've been hearing it since we got here." Fang rolled his eyes.

Is it raining where my family is? I wondered as I found a raincoat and nailed it to the ceiling of my dust covered room as it began to drizzle.

I dusted off my bed before flopping onto it, causing a cloud to rise from underneath it. I wonder what my family is like. I raised my hand high and made it parallel to the ceiling as I looked between the fingers.

A flicker of red on my middle finger caught my eye, a thin thread tied in a bow, with a string leading somewhere… I blinked at it was gone. Must've been my imagination, I brought the hand close to examine my middle finger. It was a forget me not, something that's not commonly used anymore. The old man and woman used it with me to make sure I fed the cattle and grabbed eggs from the chickens only because that's how they remembered. And I remembered that they tied it on tightly so it almost cut off circulation to the finger. I blinked once more, there it was again…

I blinked again, gone.

If it is a forget me not, who does it lead to?

"Do you know a bed time story?" A little girl with blonde hair bounded into the room.

"No." Fang replied stiffly, staring out the window. Eight years today…

"Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me, happy birthday, happy birthday, happy birthday to me." I sung quietly as I lay curled on my bed. There was no one to bake a cake just like last year, there were no smiling faces, and no food. My stomach grumbled in protest, I haven't eaten since yesterday and I was starving.

I left my bedroom, looking around the house, the water worked, so did the gas and electricity, who was paying the bill on the place? You know what? Who cares?

I cleaned the bathroom a bit before slipping into the shower, feeling hot water on my skin for the first time in a long time. I hadn't had a proper shower since I was kicked out two years ago.

"December sings songs of sorrow, to die in undefiled snow or drown in the water of snow unborn. The songs of mourning with anew each day, never to be forgotten, settling a cold hold on people's hearts." I said aloud, thinking of a book I read a long time ago. The rain had stopped but it was beginning to snow. "A rain coat won't be able to hold snow for long." I mumbled to myself, searching the house for boards.

There were plenty in a bedroom that had a door sign Iggy. I wondered what an Iggy was or if that was a name.

I fixed the roof as much as possible but felt a draft filtering through.

Fang.

I blinked at the name on the door of a room, the very last one in the hall. It was familiar to me, why? I pushed the door open causing it to creak slightly. It was dusty but not as dusty as mine. It was dark and warm, a dresser against the wall and a neatly made bed with black covers. I set my pack on the floor, plugging in my Ipod for charging. I lay on the dusty bed, thinking how grateful I was to have the old man and woman and how they gave me almost everything I could have dreamed of wanting. They gave me a laptop and an Ipod, telling me it was the new confounded things youngsters liked. I laughed when the old man said it.

I kicked off my shoes, listening to my Ipod as it charged and slipping beneath the covers. The covers felt warm, almost recently used as if the person had been sleeping here not long ago. My head rested heavily on the black pillow, I breathed in its scent, ignoring the dust. It smelled of the forest and wild strawberries, I smiled, imagining that a boy used to sleep in this bed. My fingers reached up to touch the pillow as I lay on my side, they pressed gently against the pillow covering as if searching for a familiar indention or trying to find the source of heat.

I sang softly to the music, closing my eyes, my body at ease in this room. Whoever Fang was, they sure had a comfy bed.

Fang's eyes snapped open as he felt a warm brush against his cheek. He had been laying on his side, dreaming of his room in the E shaped house. He could still feel the warm touch, it was almost as if it was trying to cradle his face. His eyes looked around wildly, he was the only one in the room. Then the warmth settled on his cheek, making his face flush lightly, making him aware that his bed felt warmer than usual. There was no extra weight on his bed, in fact, nothing was there but Fang could feel her pulse. He could feel her light breathing on his collar bone, telling him she was asleep. He smelled the fresh air of the country, gardenias, and the faint smell of bubble gum. Was this her? His eyes closed slightly as he felt himself ease a little, a sense of sadness tinged his heart a little, she felt sad…

Thank for convincing me to do this story and thanks to all my readers and reviewers, I hope you see you soon :D

Challenge Time: In which fanfiction(s) did Fang memorize the dictionary? Please name author with story.

Preview:

Like Snow

I woke up slowly, hearing a sob escape my throat and became aware of the tears falling from my eyes, my hand gripped the pillow tightly. I miss them, the old man and woman, they were the closest thing to family. I had been dreaming about them before I woke up, they were celebrating my eighth birthday with me and they were beaming at me like crazy.

The warmth from the bed faded a bit and I saw the red string on the middle finger of the hand gripping the pillow my head rested on. Where did that string lead to?

Please Review

Adieu
Nightwing

So, I just found out... email adresses work like links on here... they don't show up. So thanks again to loves2 read charter . net for emailing me on doing this story. I was so excited that I finished this a couple of days ago, the first chapter I've finished since Band Camp started, oh, and I have to be quick, I have to be at my rehearsal in 20 min so...

Challengers!

Myrah: Yep! Correct, I would've been shocked if you got it wrong.
Anony: Yep! You too!

And just to let everyone know, Fang DOES NOT have a power. It will be explained later on in the chapter.

To My Goth Faerie: Probably of no importance to you but... I GOT A SPOT IN THE MARCHING BAND! Out of 45 flutes only 21 get to march. Crazy, no? I'm flute 6, I'm proud of myself XD Also, my Dad's graduating from college today! I'm so excited for him! And how was Chem?

Self Conclusions

Like Snow

The warmth from the bed faded a bit and I saw the red string on the middle finger of the hand gripping the pillow my head rested on. Where did that string lead to?

A glimpse of red caught Fang's eye as he reached up to touch the warmth near his head. A string of red tied firmly on his middle finger. He had not tied it there…

He blinked, it was gone.

I laid in that bed for the rest of the night because every time I would want to leave it, a wave of uncertainty and unease filled me. It felt like I was only safe in that bed, that the warmth would never betray me, like a brother who would hold me close if I was scared of thunder…

Fang flexed his fingers, gazing at the one that had the red string attached, the string burned when it was on his finger, it tugged and pulled, trying to lead him somewhere… or someone…

He exhaled lightly, rolling on his side and gazing out the window, a full moon could be seen peaking out from the gray clouds that threatened to snow. He felt the warmth shift constantly, her smell would get stronger and weaker all the time, was she uncomfortable?

Fang blinked slowly trying to imagine her face and how much it aged. He wondered if she missed him or even remembered him for that matter, did she just run away from it all? Did she change her name or kept it just the same? After eight years of being apart, was she at the verge of falling apart or kept neatly together like always? Was she starving or living like a queen? Fang's lips parted as if he was going to answer the questions. His eyelids closed halfway, the questions weighing down in his heart, the real question coming to mind. Was she still Max?

I woke up to find the warmth in the bed gone. How long had it been gone? The thought escaped me the second my stomach growled. Right, food. I slipped from the bed, scavenging for money because I saw a town not too far off.

A few bucks here and there, good, so I won't starve.

My middle finger twitched slightly and I looked at it, seeing the red string pulling it. Forget me not's, there's a story behind them. Of course it's to remember chores and things like that but there's more to it. And of course, I don't know if the story is true or not but it was my first bedtime story since I saw one on the old man's finger.

I slipped out from a window of the E shaped house and trudged down the road several yards from the house.

There was a couple, dearly in love but war separated them. As a promise to wed each other once the war was over they tied a string to each other's fingers. The man went to war as the woman stayed home, waiting on a widow's walk for his boat to come sailing home.

Days passed, months, and then finally a year, the threads had been worn through and been broken off but she still remembered, and he looked at the finger every day. There was a major battle and he was injured seriously, he lost his memories and forgot all about her. Across the seas he fell in love with another, laughing and smiling with her but in the back of his mind a voice told him it was wrong. The woman waited, several ships returned home but never his.

And then finally, one day, it was declared that he was going home. He was not pleased, for it would mean leaving the other behind, and saw a thin thread on his finger. He looked at it questioningly as he stood beside the other, seeing it tug at his finger, telling him to go home. He told the other farewell, his mind telling him the thread was where everything was.

The woman gazed from the widow's walk, just before the sunrise. It was cold out, just like the day he left for war but as she saw the sunrise, she saw a familiar boat come into view. He would be there, she thought, I can feel it. A tug on her finger caused her to look. A thread had been tied there, just like the one he tied almost two years before, but this time it had a string leading her somewhere. Follow it, her mind told her. She rushed down the stairs and out the door, heading to the docks, seeing the thread grow tighter and tighter. Her heart raced, he was here.

The man looked up as he walked off the boat, seeing a woman running blindly towards him. His finger was tugged and he saw the string, it seemed attached to the woman. He blinked, recognizing the woman at once as memories came back to him. He ran to her and kissed her, overjoyed that they found each other so soon. Pulling back, he saw the string on her finger and watched as the hands touched, the string disappearing between their hands.

"Every string has a beginning and an end." I said aloud as I trekked back to the E shaped house. That was the moral of the story, I knew that. Forget me not's are so you won't forget but the whole forget me not leading you to your love, that's total BS, right?

"What a pretty girl." A low voice caught me off guard. I wheeled around, dropping my bag of food onto the porch of the house. A man was smiling malevolently at me. He was handsome but the look he gave me was nothing less than sinister. "Are you like them?" Them? Who's them? His dark brown eyes twinkled, as he seemed to be gazing just past my shoulder. He lunged, his hands extended as I saw him morph into a wolf, claws tearing at my back. I yelped in pain and he/it laughed. "You are." He hissed, raking his claws through again as I tried to move away. I winced as he plucked at my feathers. I needed to something but what?

And out of nowhere I roundhouse kicked him.

What? I never learned to fight! My hands turned to fists, holding them near my face as to block and attack as he leapt to his feet. He staggered over to me, his bloodied claws outstretched, ready to pierce me again. First instinct:

I kicked him in the balls.

He doubled over in pain that gave me the opportunity to grab my bag and dive inside the house, locking the window tightly. I explored the quiet house, making sure I was the only one in it before going to the bathroom.

I peeled off my totally torn jacket and shirt, examining my back. A lot of feathers were missing; I could (but very stupidly) fly a small distance before I'd end up plummeting to the ground. My back was bloodied beyond belief and I realized that I had been trailing blood everywhere, even around the house. Great. Just great.

I cleaned my wounds; the smell of antiseptics burned my nose, and wrapped my back tightly in gauze.

"I don't have anymore clothes." I said aloud sourly as I crept back into Fang's room. Maybe this person had something to wear. Opening the closet I saw an assortment of black clothes, black shoes, black shirts, jackets, pants, you name it, and it's here. A pair of blue jeans caught my eye in the far corner of the closet and I slipped into them, perfect fit. As I slipped on a black shirt a familiar scent filled my nose, the forest and wild strawberries, I could almost see a face that belonged to these clothes, this room.

I peered out of the window, through heavy curtains, seeing more men like the one before scouting out the place. Great, now how am I supposed to get out? I pulled on one of the jackets and put spare clothes into my pack while munching on the junk food I bought.

Now, how to sneak out. I flopped on Fang's bed, thinking of a way out. If I ran out through the windows or front door, that would make a big scene and I don't know how fast they run… I could fly but it's debatable for how long because of how torn up they are, not to mention my back wounds opening… I could wait till night, no that would be dangerous for me too…

I sighed heavily, when did my life become like this? My mood was as dark as my clothes. It's bad enough that I don't remember the first ten years of my life, losing the closest thing to parents for me, living like a hobo for two years, captured and put in a dog crate, experimented on, given false information that my family was in an E shaped house in Colorado, and now men that turn into wolves trying to kill me. That would be enough to darken anyone's mood, wouldn't it?

And then a thought stuck me.

Why shouldn't I walk out there and let those werewolves rip me apart? I mean, there's no one waiting for me, no one looking for me, I'm only living for myself and just taking up space in the world… Why shouldn't I just die right now? Nobody wants me, who would want a freak with wings? My mind burned when I thought 'freak with wings.'

"If you were gay," began Iggy, singing just outside Fang's door, a mild grin on his face.

"Not in the morning, Ig." Called Fang in annoyed voice through the door. He was annoyed that he couldn't sleep much last night, as the sun was rising Fang was already up from his bed reading a book he had stolen from a library in the last city he was in.

He couldn't shake the feeling that Max was getting closer, so close he could hardly stop his heart pounding with her pulse. How much longer? Fang questioned himself, closing his eyes and book. How much longer to I have to be without you?

Max shook her head for the umpteenth time. It was mid-afternoon now and she was fighting with herself. I should die, I should look for my family,no, you were lied to, what if I was told the truth? I'm not needed, true but who cares? I take up space and making the world a waste while living, but if I live and find my family then I won't be making my life a waste! If.

The word hung heavy with Max.

Where will you go, Max? The Voice entered again. Do you want to die?

Yes and no. She sighed. What reason do I have to live, anyway? And besides, like you asked, where would I go?

Live for another day or so, perhaps you'll be given an insight on life.

And if I don't get an insight?

Then I won't stop you. Max nearly snorted with laughter, as if a voice could stop me, she thought.

"I will live for only those who need me, I told that to the old woman on her death bed, you need me to live, I'll live, only for just another day." Max told The Voice aloud, her eyes sad and unfocused.

"How much longer are we gonna stay here?" Asked Gasman, looking bored because his bomb was put on hiatus.

"Another two days or so, I haven't scoped the area fully yet." Fang replied, sitting down at the wooden table where Angel was coloring on a spare piece of paper. Fang flexed his fingers underneath the table, trying to feel the invisible thread tugging him again. Tell me where she is…He thought with sad eyes.

Escape.

That's the only thought that passed through my mind as I ran about the house trying to find an exit. The werewolves were on every inch of this house. An exit, where's an exit?

I tripped over the dusty couch in the living room, crashing onto the wooden coffee table and breaking it. Blearily I looked up, seeing the beginnings of a chimney, I shook my blonde hair, duh.

Congrats to me. I dusted myself off and held my backpack, Fang's jacket securely tied around my waist before I crawled up it. When I get out there, just jump and fly as far away as possible, I coached myself. I nodded, reassuring myself everything would be all right, my fingers bloodied as they scraped harshly against the brick chimney.

I launched myself out of mouth of the chimney, extending my large wings and ignoring the pain in my back. I was flying, that was a good sign. The werewolves below me were howling in protest. I flew over the tree tops and far from the small town, having sleep pushing itself to the center of my mind. My back felt wet, my wounds reopened, I was losing feathers as well as altitude… Where was I going? The thread tugged and my wings followed. The backpack was beginning to feel heavy…

Sleep was taking over, the scent of forests and wild strawberries filled my senses as my wings folded close and held my backpack tightly to my chest. Sleep… wind rushed past my ears but flooded in as a dull roar. Sleep… I passed the treetops and fell deep into the snow…

I groaned, the sudden cold shocking me awake. I knelt weakly on my knees, trying to register what was going on and shivered against the cold. I looked behind me at the Max shaped imprint, cold red blood seeping into the snow, my eyes became half-lidded at the sight. Flakes fell around me, gently covering the blood and turning it pink, I blinked slowly, I had tainted the snow with my blood.

There were meanings with snow, I knew that. 'Pure and undefiled' was what the old woman called it but the old man never liked snow for some reason. What did he call it? I stumbled through the trees of the snow covered forest, my wings pressed tightly into my back and agitating the wounds. What was it? He said it had an underlying meaning that was just as cold as snow itself…

The ground rushed up to meet me and I felt snowflakes fall on my cold skin, darkness closing in all around me. I remember now, 'snow has an underlying meaning,' he said, 'it means death.'

I swear, if I tried I could make a bunch of fairytales after concepts I learned about. And of course, every year I have to make a point of Pure and Undefiled.

Challenge time: This is a really weird challenge but blame it on the tubas. If I say 'count like the plauge!' what would you do and what do you think it means?

Preview

Excuse Me Miss

"Said this is the first time I've seen an angel. Said that she looked fallen 'cause she was dark and hurt. Then I says to myself 'I should take 'er in. She ain't dun nuffin wrong. So's I take 'er in an' gets my little sis Jess to dress 'er wounds and I hid 'er 'cause angels aren't s'possed to be seen an' I tells Jessie girl to forget and tha' I'll bring her a special gift home if she promise not to tell. An' so's I bring lil' angel here an' she wakes up. Now little miss, what can I do fer ya?" The man turned around slightly, lively pale green eyes smiled at me as he gave me a small grin. He was old, I noticed, but so much younger than the old man. I blinked slowly, trying to register this man and his graying dark red hair.

"Oh!" He gave me a toothy grin as he seemed to be laughing at something. "I fergot to tell ya my name, it's Patches."

Adieu
Nightwing

Another chapter done! I'm working on Run Away With Me as we speak, I'm about 3/4ths done with it but I'm in a little rut at the moment, I'm almost over it though, I managed about half a page last night after band.

Disclaimer: (I never use these) I do not own Maximum Ride or the song" Self Conclusion by the Spill Canvas

To My Goth Faerie: OMG!!! You replied! You know, you made my day when I checked my mail. I was all 'I hate the world' at the moment 'cause adults were being all rude to me aka, the band mom's are witches with a capital B and then I checked my mail and there you were! (glows) Since we're back on band terms, we have New Phillip! who's name I recently learned is John. Wow, as if guy dancers couldn't have older names... Oh yeah, so since I'm not an anime nerd enough I was reading a manga called 'only the ring finger knows' and it's yaoi, aka two guys together, but it reminded me so much of this story. Well, the ring part anyway.

Minimaximum: Sorry I'm taking so long in replying but you see I don't send emails through my actual email address. Honestly I would pick Yellowbird833 for a screenname, a nickname I would just stick with bumble bee. You see, yellow as in the color of the bee, 833 sort of looks like the spelling of BEE, and bird because maximum is a bird-er well hybrid of a sort. Nicknames should be subtle, or at least I think so. My nickname for instance, a dead give away that I like Nightwing from Batman but it also tells you I love the night and have an urge to fly, stars because I've loved them and how they hang out with the moon. Sorry if I'm not much help but that's all I have.

Challengers: Count like the plague, it's weird but funny at the same time. I probably can't tell it right but the tuba's were saying to count excitedly. My friend Diaz mimicked the plague, "One million! Two million! Five million-" "sir what happened" "We hit China!"Yeah... probably bad and it's not as funny if I try to explain it. Thank you challengers for your thoughts!

Self Conclusion

Excuse Me Miss

Warmth.

The aroma of the forest and hot chicken soup but not wild strawberries…

But I was wrapped in warmth, warming my cheeks though my face was the only thing uncovered. I turned my head to the side, opening my eyes slowly. A man was stoking a fire in a stone fireplace of a log cabin. He seemed to be whistling, a small noise escaped my closed lips, it was soft and signaled that I was awake. The man continued to whistle, staring the contents of the pot hanging above the fire.

"Oh!" He gave me a toothy grin as he seemed to be laughing at something. "I fergot to tell ya my name, it's Patches."

"Max." My voice was raspy and surprised me because of the lack of use. "Um, if you don't mind me asking, how long was I-?"

"Dead as a doornail?" Said the man called Patches cheerfully. "I S'posse a day or so, little Jessie girl left a bit ago. Stopped snowin'," he jabbed a thumb at a glass paned window, "an' she could head home."

"Oh, thank you." My voice was meek and I hid beneath the warm wool covers. It's been a day or so, could I die now? This man, would he have saved me if he had known I wanted to die?

"Lil' angel, are ya sad?" asked Patches gently. I looked at him, his green eyes looked at me in a knowing wonder. "Jessie girl used ta act like ya. 'Er smiles would never past 'er lips an' she was always sad."

"I'm fine." I replied looking away. My middle finger tugged, pleading me to leave. "I'm looking for someone."

"Ya s'possed to taken 'em to heaven wit ya?" The smile was small and encouraging as he poured some of the contents of the pot into a wooden bowl.

"Something like that." I sat up slowly, ignoring the protests of my body and took the bowl in my hands. "If I don't find them soon I'll leave and never come back. It's just that I don't remember them."

"Wha' happened to yer wings?" His eyes held vague amusement as her sat down on a wooden rocking chair. I felt hesitant in answering

"I was attacked and I somehow fought them off because they didn't tear me to shreds."

"The demons of the underworld afta a lil' angel like ya? An' you don' remember how ya kept them away?" Patches laughed, getting on his knees in front of me, a calloused index finger pressed against my forehead. "S'called muscle memory. When ya can't 'member nothing yer body makes up fer it. Ya don't have ta know wha' to do all the time, sometimes yer body will know for ya."

"Isn't that called instinct?" I arched a brow as I took a sip of the hot soup. Patches laughed again.

"Ya can call it dat too." His large hands ruffled my long blonde hair. He went back to his rocking chair, watching me finish of the hot soup. "Ya heal pretty fast lil' miss."

"Angels do that." I nodded.

"I'm going for a long flight. Pack up and be ready to go when I get back." Fang ordered the flock as he left the small house.

I talked to Patches for a few hours before I declared that I needed to leave.

"Lil' miss, I hope ya find who yer lookin' fer." Patches told me, handing me a warm, overstuffed coat and my backpack. I nodded, taking the items.

As I opened the door, the cold air rushing in all at once, Patches spoke, catching me off guard. "Lil' miss," I looked behind me at Patches, his pale green eyes were sad, "if ya hafta go, there's a cliff that would give ya a runnin' start to heaven just a lil' north of here." I blinked and nodded in thanks. "Take care lil' miss." He smiled toothily at me before I closed the cabin door behind me. I closed my eyes, tears welling up in my eyes. I felt horrible, he knew my intentions and cared for me, he wanted me to live. But Patches didn't know me and all I've been through, he was, or rather is, the man in the cabin who wishes well.

I trudged through the snow, walking north to the cliff Patches mentioned, thinking to myself and to The Voice. If that was the insight on life, it failed. The snow became lighter the farther north I walked, fragments of thriving green peaked out from the thinning snow.

The red string on my finger tugged and pulled fiercely with every step I took. Should I follow it or is it too late for me?

Fang gazed out at the setting sun from a cliff just east of where the flock was. They would be moving again in hopes of finding Max, the past two years they had been searching. All that time had been in vain, it was a waste of the flock's time and he was forcing them to live that way. If he leapt, the flock wouldn't have to worry about him anymore. He shook the thought away and his finger twitched and his body begged him to stay just a little bit longer.

"Excuse me sir but I have plans to die tonight. You are exactly in my way and I bet you're gonna say it's not right." A female voice reached Fang's ears, his finger tugged wildly, urging him to turn around. He fought the urge for only a few moments before turning around to see fearless golden brown eyes.

My name is Max, I am eight years old. I lost my family when I was six and recently attacked by werewolves. I've been looking for a false family for a while and I've finally given up. I have every intention of jumping off a cliff today with my torn wings tucked in. There is no one who can convince me to stay alive because no one needs me, no one will ever need me.

A boy, my age turned around, dressed in all black looked back at me with dark empty eyes. I watched him draw a breath. "Excuse me miss," I withheld a frown, he was copying me, "do you have the slightest clue? Of exactly what you just said to me and exactly who you're talking to?" A brow arched and I saw the dark eyes seem to fill a little bit with life.

I scoffed, turning my head away, my head held high. The nerve of this guy. "I don't care, you don't even know me-" He cut me off, my eyes growing wide at his words.

"I know but I'd like to change that soon hopefully!" His face looked almost pleading for a moment, his brows furrowed in a worried manner before his expression drew blank and he stood straight, running a hand through his dark hair, his voice sad. "We all flirt at the tiniest notion of Self Conclusion in one simplified motion. But the trick is that you're never supposed to act on it, no matter how unbearable this misery gets." I took a step back in surprise, how can he know what I'm going through?

Fang watched the girl as she looked downcast, an overstuffed jacket tied around her waist. She rubbed her bare arm numbly, as her voice echoed through his ears, unsure. "You make it sound so easy to be alive, tell me how am I supposed to seize this day when everything inside of me has died?" Her eyes looked up at him, causing his eyes to widen a fraction of an inch.

It was her, Fang realized, that was why his body was reacting to her movements so violently. The familiar brown eyes, the scent of bubblegum, gardenias, and the country was faint in his nose. She had changed so much. He felt like he was going to tremble at her words, why didn't she recognize him?

"Trust me." Fang answered, "I know your legs are pleading to leap but instead of dying why don't you live with me?" Come back home, please… His thoughts would not cease. He watched her tremble and noticed something red on her finger…

"Are you crazy? You don't even know me!" I shouted at the male in front of me. He looked taken aback for a moment before he shouted back.

"I know but I'd like to change that soon hopefully!" His gaze was on my hands, I looked down at them for a moment, seeing a red string tying my middle finger. Did he see it too...?

She looked frightened, Fang noticed. He wanted to bring her home, after two years of searching he wanted to bring her home. His gaze softened, extending the hand that had the string on it. "I would be lying if I said things would never get rough and all this cliche motivation would never be enough. I could stand here all night, trying to convince you." Fang watched her tremble harder, a conflict in her mind was occurring. For moments the two stood in silence, her body trembling as her mind seemed to be arguing with herself.

Fang watched her grow suddenly still, she had reached a conclusion. Her voice was clear, her brown eyes afraid, and she looked up, her face was straight and emotionless as she spoke. "Alright, you win but I'll only give you one night to prove you're better than my attempt at life. And I swear if you hurt me, I'll leap and you'll never see it coming."

I watched him lift up his hands, telling me he meant no harm, and for the first time I noticed the red string around his finger. My eyes widened a little at the sight. Was he…?

"Settle Max, I know what you're going through, a few minutes before you got here I was gonna jump too." He walked closer to me. How did he know my name? A sudden gust of wind caught my attention as I smelled the forest and wild strawberries. My eyes widened more, was he Fang?

The red knot on my finger burn as I saw the string lead to the male's hand. I held up my finger as he held up his, so he did see the forget-me-not. Our hands met and I remembered the familiar warmth of Fang's bed. I choked back a sob, realizing that this was just like that story, I was the one who had forgotten. I laced my fingers through his hand before throwing myself at him, crying into his chest.

Fang's eyes widened slightly as words reached his ears. "I'm sorry." Max's voice kept repeating.

Sorry… The word was numbing Fang's heart. What was she sorry about? That she forgot? That she was cruel to him? That she was going to leave him behind? That… she did something unforgivable…?

He wrapped an arm around her waist, listening to her sobs, and completely forgetting about the world around him.

Wrong choice.

Ah Patches, how I wish I could do more with your wonderful character. :tears: I will miss you. Dun dun! Cliffhanger! Betcha spotted all the lyrics in the song, right? I'm sorta obsessed about this amazing band. The Spill Canvas, there is not a song I'm not tired of by them.

Challenge time: If you had to choose, who would you rather Bella end up with at the end of Eclipse? Jacob or Edward?

Preview:

Their Faces

A sense of falling filled both Fang's and Max's minds but it was Fang who noticed it first. Furry hands were at the edge of a cliff he had been previously standing on, his arms tightly wound around Max. Max screamed, realization hitting her. She was falling to her death, after she convinced herself not to die, and her wings could not fly.

"You've got wings right?" Max cried out, her facial expression obviously scared.

"Yeah but I don't know if they'll carry the two of us." Fang blinked at her.

"Well, you'll have to try, my wings are out of commission!" At the word 'out' Fang had snapped his wings open and was soaring through the sky and away from the cliffs.

Adieu
Nightwing

Okay, it's a really short chapter but deal with it. I was a drill sargent today!!! Excitement! Helping/commanding underclassmen is so much fun :D They bought me food afterwards, even better, though, I did have to drive them home. Not much to say... the next chapter will be more exciting.

Self Conclusion

Their Faces

"You've got wings right?" Max cried out, her facial expression obviously scared.

"Yeah but I don't know if they'll carry the two of us." Fang blinked at her.

"Well, you'll have to try, my wings are out of commission!" At the word 'out' Fang had snapped his wings open and was soaring through the sky and away from the cliffs.

The flock is in trouble, The Voice told Max quietly.

Flock? Max questioned, you mean my family?

The Voice sighed, yes.

"Fang, the flock is in trouble." Max's worried brown eyes found Fang's black ones. In an instant Fang was flying faster than Max could have imagined. They flew past the cabin Patches lived in and a little past the forest to a small house where the wooden door was kicked open and a scream could be heard inside.

"Angel!" Fang shouted as Max held to him tightly. He landed a few feet away from the small house, ready to leap into it.

Stop him, make him stay with you. The Voice ordered as Fang began to set Max down.

"Wait!" Max cried out, tugging on Fang's arm, just as she did so an explosion was heard and the small house was burning. Max watched as Fang gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to run into it.

"That was a five maybe even a three, the explosion was kind of lame." Said a voice casually as the sound of crunching leaves drew closer. More sounds of crunching, there was more than one person.

"Nah Gazzy, more of a two, I mean the sound was to the pits and you couldn't feel the aftershock." Another voice carried out to Fang and Max. Max let go of Fang, seeing two boys walk into the clearing, one with blonde hair and another with strawberry blonde. The strawberry blonde had just finished talking when Max could finally see him.

"I'm so sorry Total!" A young girl cried out and Max saw a girl younger than the blonde boy with startling blue eyes and hair that matched the young boy. They're siblings, was the first thought that passed through her mind. Total must be the black mess in her arms.

"You know, I never thought I'd see those things again, they just get worse every time. Oh, Fang, hi. When'd you get a lady friend?" A dark skinned girl was behind the young girl, brushing soot off her arms.

The strawberry blonde male walked up close to Fang and Max. "How're you Max?" He asked quietly. "You don't seem to be very happy. But your scent is still the same, still gentle. Never thought we'd find you here."

My had grabbed Fang's. "Iggy," Fang began quietly, Iggy lifted his head in the direction of Fang. "she doesn't know any of us. None."

"Funny, she still seems the same as when we lost her eight years ago."

"Two days, eight years ago, right?" I asked, cocking my head at the strawberry blonde named Iggy. Well, at least it wasn't something weird as I thought the door sign meant.

"Yeah," Iggy raised a brow, "why?"

"It was my birthday." I told Iggy and saw Fang's eyes widen a fraction. A soft smile had found its way to my lips. "I celebrated my first birthday that day when the old man found me on the road."

"An old man found you?" Fang raised a brow.

"Yeah, he brought me to his house and his wife took care of me. they died a couple of years ago…" I trailed off, unable to finish. I glanced between Iggy and Fang.

"What do you mean 'I still seem the same?'" I asked Iggy as we walked through the snow, the younger ones trailing behind us.

"You give off this kind of vibe that seems like you still know all of us but there's only a slight difference in the vibe that makes the difference. You know us, Max, because those memories aren't buried very deep, we just have to trigger it somehow…"

At the word trigger I had fallen to my knees in pain, my wings had moved involuntarily and split open a fresh wound. I could feel blood seeping into my jacket as Fang cradled me. "She's bleeding!" Iggy hissed as Fang asked what was wrong. Could Iggy hear my blood pooling out of me? "Hurry up! Her pulse is weakening!" Why had my wings moved at those words? My vision was fading. No, not now!

There was pressure on my back and my pulse thudding loudly in my ears. "How hurt are you?" Fang asked me.

"Very." My voice came out a weak moan. "These werewolves got into the E shaped house I found, well someone told me about it but that's not the case, the werewolves attacked me and tore my wings, I don't know how I got this far."

"Erasers." I heard Iggy murmer under his breath.

"And they're still here!" Angel shrieked as snarls filled the surrounding forest. The werewolves were back? I leapt back to my feet, despite the fact I reopened the gushing wound. Fang was at his feet too, pressing something against my back as Iggy suddenly wrapped something around me to keep the pressure. Black was on the edge of my vision as I saw the snouts of werewolves inching out from the trees. One leapt out at me and I kicked it as a first reaction. I fell on my back, ignoring the pain as dirt rubbed into my wounds, before leaping to my feet, ready to fight. My knees felt weak as if I were going to fall at any moment.

There were yells and cries all around me, snarls from the werewolves and more. And then a werewolf caught me, his clawed hands pinning me to him, crushing my ribs making it hard to breathe. He used one hand to lift my chin and expose my throat, I could feel his hot nasty breathe on my neck, he was going to rip my throat out. I shivered at the thought. I didn't want to die, not yet, not after I just found my family. Sharp teeth traced my skin and a small cry of fear escaped my throat. I couldn't see anymore, I was about to black out… about to die…

I was suddenly being held differently. Leaner arms cradling me, a warm cheek pressing against my cold one. I grasped an arm at the elbow for support, vaugely aware that I was crying. "You will not touch her, you'll leave her alone." Fang's voice filled my ears. I could feel his chest vibrating against me. "Never come back, tell your masters that."

And the world faded into a dream…

Short Chapter but well worth it. :D Going to bed now (even though it's not even 8 yet, man I'm tired)

Challenge: Review, that's not so hard is it? Reviewing helps the soul :D But other than that, I'm done for the day.

Preview:

Muscle Memory

"Does it hurt?" I asked out of a first reaction. The old woman had taught me well in medical care, she used to be a vet before she retired and volunteered for the EMS every now and then.

"Don't ask me that." Fang frowned at me. "What about yourself, you're in worse condition."

"I've had worse." I lied shrugging. I watched Fang grimmance in pain as he attempted to cover his bandaged eye with his hand. The next thing I knew, I was holding his hands in my own and I had given him a kiss just below his brow. I pulled back suddenly in shock, only to fall back at the sudden burst of pain.

Adieu
Nightwing

My mom's hoping for an ice day tomorrow, aka, there's ice on one or two roads for the first three hours of the school day, the south has it so easy. So again, like some other stories, inspiration just struck and here this chapter is, just like the 30 seconds, I woke up and I was like "I'm gonna write this" and it was. And it was good. No, I don't know, I'm eating ice cream in thirty degree weather so I'm not really right in my mind. Psst, Myrah wanna know a funny fact? I accidentally called my friend Mariah your name, for some reason it's on the same wavelink. Anyway... you wouldn't know how long until the next Maximum Ride Fanfiction awards, would you?

Self Conclusion

Temperature

It hurts… this dream… it hurts…

"Quick! She's burning up!"

"What's happening?"

"Her feathers are falling off!"

Why does it hurt so much, the pressure in my chest, it's so hard to breathe, my head's pounding, and my body feels like it's on fire. Someone please stop this pain!

"Ouch! Her temperature's too high, you could cook an egg on her skin!"

"It hurts!" I screamed, clutching the closest thing. It was strong and warm, a hand maybe, and it flinched underneath my grasp. I curled into myself, pulling the hand closer to me. I heard a small cry of protest and I felt something cold on top of me. A curse from someone's lips and the cold left. I, in turn, cried out in protest, yanking the hand again.

The cold was a distraction, a distraction from the pain all over my body, from the unbearable pain in my back, the tears falling, and the memories, the memories I've decided to forget.

"Where's that cold cloth? No doubt everything feels cold to her, we need something." Iggy's voice finally filtered through my mind, I realized he was the one making all the demands.

"It's okay." I felt the cold rumble on my body. It was Fang. Why was he always so comforting? I knew it was him whom I felt while sleeping in his bed and now it's him who's distracting me.

"It's not fair." I mumbled, gripping Fang's hand tighter, he flinched and I suddenly found myself being moved. My hand was removed from his and found his back to hug, my pain blinded eyes buried into his chest.

"It's going to hurt a bit, you can hurt me all you want." Fang whispered into my ear. What is he thinking? I can hurt him, is he crazy? "Iggy, disinfect it now."

I couldn't decide if it was soothing or painful. The liquid was ice cold to my body, I couldn't help but shiver against it and it stung like knives made of icicles, thousands stabbing a single wound at once. My breathing labored and my nails dug into Fang's skin; he hissed once.

My feathers were falling, a moment of clarity filled me, does that mean I'll never fly again?

I woke up to a dim light filtering into the room. I was laying on my stomach, covers around my ankles, my head facing the left side where Fang sat in a rocking chair, his arms crossed and head drooped, fast asleep. I frowned to myself, ignoring the soreness of my back, seeing the bandages on Fang's body. His left hand was covered in gauze, as was his right forearm, and I could see the beginning of a bandage at the collar of his shirt. But what bothered me the most was the bandage around his head, leading around to cover his right eye.

"You're awake." Fang opened an eye, his dark eye seemed alert.

"Does it hurt?" I asked out of a first reaction, slowly inching up to a sitting position. What had happened after I fell unconcious? He was barely scratched when he was saying all those things. Head wounds bleed the most, I could understand the bandage around his head but his eye? When the eye is injured, it may or may not heal, and even then, there's a chance you'll be unable to see. The old woman had taught me well in medical care, in case you're wondering, she used to be a vet before she retired and volunteered for the EMS every now and then.

"Don't ask me that." Fang frowned at me. "What about yourself? You're in worse condition."

"I've had worse." I lied shrugging. I watched Fang grimace in pain as he attempted to cover his bandaged eye with his hand. The next thing I knew, I was holding his hands in my own and I had given him a kiss just below his brow. I pulled back suddenly in shock, only to fall back at the sudden burst of pain.

"Idiot." I heard Fang mutter, picking me up and setting me back on my stomach. "You just had a fever and you're still trying to heal from those fights."

"It doesn't matter, I finally found my family." I smiled weakly, my stomach grumbling below.

"Of course it matters! We just found you Max, what makes you think we want to lose you? When you're weak, don't act strong, it'll only make you weaker."

"Like yourself?" I asked, noting his sudden courageousness.

"Touché." Iggy popped his head in for a moment before leaving. Fang rolled his eyes.

"I gave you one night," I began, staring at Fang, waiting for him to say something, "the only thing you've proven to me is I have a family… Do you honestly think that'll still keep me around? Families die, they left me, what's stopping all of you?" I was lying, I wanted to stay, every moment I spent near Fang made me feel safe, I didn't want to lose this family too, they had my home now and I didn't want to see it taken away. But he didn't know that.

"No." Fang gazed at me with an unwavering eye. "But there is a string that connects us, I'm sure you saw it up on that cliff a week ago." A week ago? "You've been out for a week." He added, thanks for the delayed information. "It ties us together, surely you were searching to who had the end of your string. And if you were to die, would I not soon follow, tied so tightly to you?"

"What would that matter? You were planning on jumping too." Another touché.

"Because I couldn't find you, I had given up hope and now here you are."

"That's good." I propped myself up on my elbows. "It must be good that I'm here now, that's why I came to the self conclusion that I'm staying and there's nothing you can do about it." I smiled. A place to call home, I've been waiting to call a place that for a while.

"You never planned on jumping again, did you?"

"No." I reached out towards Fang, brushing hair from his right side, the bandage an obvious distraction. "How'd this happen?"

"I got distracted." Fang mumbled, looking away, flinching as he did so. He stiffened suddenly, his ears perked with alertness, why? The family burst through the door, excited faces ogling at me. Oh. I smiled at them and Fang left. His expression was blank but inside I knew he was hurt, like his heart was speaking to mine.

Fang… you don't seem the type to get distracted.

Totally not a morning person. Another short chapter, only 'cause I have school tomorrow and I've done NONE of my homework.

Challenge Time: True or False, a bird's temperature his higher than a human's.

Preview:

Hard

"You're supposed to be in bed." Fang frowned at me.

"And you're not supposed to be my father." I frowned back from my seated position. "Just give it a rest, I don't want to fight today. I just want to know, is that too much to ask?"

"Depends on what you want to know."

"Oh you know, the usual, do you work for the government? Are you a killer? The even more random, do you love me? But the real question I should be asking in the middle of twenty questions is: What was life without me?"

"No, no, yes, hard." Wait, what?

Adieu
Nightwing

Did you know my life is just like the game "Hit and Miss"? I found that out today. Oh yeah! I posted some MR stuff on deviantart, btw.

Challengers! Anony and Bubble Blow each earn a cookie! Makmay04, almost... but no cigar... er in this case cookie.

Self Conclusion

Hard

Where is this place? I sat up, the moon filtering through the window. It was the last quarter, the last before the new moon. I crawled from my bed and slipped out the window, easily climbing to the roof. I held my breath watching the night go by, the stars twinkling, an occasional one zooming past.

"You know what I wanna be when I grow up?" My eyes widened at my younger voice shouting as if right beside me.

"What?" The laughter came from the old woman.

"A shooting star! I'm gonna be a shooting star when I grow up!"

Old memories suck; just when you swear to forget it all comes back, full force. I wanted to forget that family, the one that raised me for the life I can remember. But… they helped me smile and they accepted me… and they thought I always belonged in the sky. I brought my knees to my chest and cried into them.

"Is it raining yet?" I lifted my head suddenly, seeing Fang standing at the edge of the roof, his black eye looking at me and not at the sky. I frowned at him. What an idiotic question.

"There isn't a single cloud." I snapped. It was true, the moon was shining on Fang's face, making him seem pale and majestic.

"So?" He arched a brow. Why didn't that matter to him? "It was raining earlier, I heard the pitter patter on the roof, or maybe… that was you." I grimaced. He sat beside me, his hair swaying with the light wind.

"No!" I defended myself a little late.

"Oh, I just assumed the water had to come from somewhere if it was soaking your face." His hand reached up to touch my face only to pull back to show the water on his fingers.

"Well!" I huffed. "You assumed wrong!"

"Don't give me that." Fang's voice was suddenly firm. His thumb and index finger gently lead my face to look him directly in the eye. "You asked me if this hurt." He used his free hand to point to his bandaged eye. " It does. You know how to see through things just like I know you're hurting too. This red string doesn't mean nonsense." He held up his free hand once more and I saw the glowing red string.

"It really does hurt?" I mumbled, my hands unconsciously cupping his face in my hands. I leaned forward, Fang's hand dropping into his lap as I kissed him gently just beneath his brow and again on the highest point of his cheek on his right side.

"The best medicine is a kiss." The old woman's voice echoed through my mind.

"Ah." My eyes widened. I was kissing him, seriously kissing him. I pulled away, my lips tingling from his own. "I'm sorry." I mumbled, scooting farther away from him. "It's just she… she told me the best medicine was a kiss."

"She?"

"The… the old woman… she would kiss my forehead whenever I'd injure myself and when the old man would get hurt she would kiss him on his lips… so I thought…"

He laughed. Fang was laughing at me, wincing as his eye throbbed at his movements but his laughter was full of joy and so sweet like chocolate. My cheeks flamed, what was so wrong with my train of thought?

"You're such a child!" He chuckled. "In a way, you really are eight years old!" Fang's laughter died in his throat and I watched as his black eye stared at me with double the intensity. "But you must realize what a kiss on the lips means…"

"No… not really… it's just embarrassing a little, I saw it on the movie screen and I was thinking 'wow, she must be really hurt.' But that's about it." I shrugged. He chuckled quietly this time.

"A kiss," Fang reached out a hand to rest on my cheek, "is a symbol of love and care. Of course it's the best medicine. But a kiss on the lips…" His lips grazed mine and my eyes widened, "means much more than medicine, much more than care, it is love, a love you have to mean." Silence fell between us, what could I say?

"Go to bed." Fang finally broke the silence. "You'll get another fever if you're still out here."

"Yeah… right." I stood up with some effort, going back the way I came.

"What was I like, you know, before I forgot?" I questioned Iggy as he replaced my bandages.

"You were always the leader, always asking questions, and always brave. You had this laughter that would call out in the dark so everyone knew where you were, your laughter was like a roll call because it always made me want to call back. You were sarcastic, no doubt you are now, but always kind. You'd give the flock your means for survival and you'd tough it."

"Was I really like that?" My eyes wide in awe. Seriously, me?

"In a way you still are. But it was so different with you gone, even if you don't remember you fit in here like a glove, we've been waiting to wear that baseball glove for years."

"Why a baseball glove?"

"Because it keeps five beings held tightly together like glue and protects it so fiercely." Iggy smiled, the dirty bandages in his hands.

"Okay..." He left me in the room, closing the door with a soft click behind him.

"You're supposed to be in bed." Fang frowned at me; this was my third night outside. 'Dr. Iggy' suggested I stayed in bed, at least until the wounds closed themselves, but I've been restless. I can't stay still, especially not after that kiss!

"And you're not supposed to be my father." I frowned back from my seated position. "Just give it a rest, I don't want to fight today. I just want to know, is that too much to ask?" We've been fighting at night and during the day; the flock was getting tired of our pointless fighting. Over one tiny thing too. … Not that I'm going to tell you…

"Depends on what you want to know."

"No, no, yes, hard." Wait, what?

"W-What?" I stuttered, bewildered.

"I. Love. You." Fang leaned over me brushing his lips on my forehead; I shivered. "It's too hard being separated; I dreamed of you everyday wondering what you were up to. Now that you're back, you're still the same old Max, the one I fell in love with all those years ago." He smiled, brushing my hair behind my ear.

No… That's not right… Don't love me because of that…

"Don't cry." A thumb wiped away a stray tear. How can I not?

My heart skips a beat as I feel Fang's warm breath against my skin, it's not fair, don't love me for the girl I've yet to know! She's been gone for so long! Eight years! Don't write me off as nothing! Don't make me live your past, Fang! I'm not your past! I decided to stay so I could know you, not… not travel back in time.

Fang, your lips are gentle against mine; they're so loving but this love is not for the me that's here now, is it? I can't help but cry, unable to pull away from the sweet taste but it hurts to know it's not me you're really kissing.

I don't know why this chapter came out so sad. I wanted to cry at the end.

Psst, go check out the All Hail The Heartbreaker contest on my profile. 'Cause you know, that was subtle.

Challenge: I named the best medicine, what's the second best?

Preview:

"I may have agreed but it doesn't mean I can't change my mind!" I snapped at Fang in the middle of the room, the flock watching us argue back and forth.

"You finally found a family and you're just now willing to give it up?"

"NO! But I just can't stand around here with you treating me like I'm that girl! I'm not her!"

"You are! Everything about you-"

"STOP IT!" I screamed, tears streaming down my face. "These scars on my arms don't belong to her, this sad smile doesn't either. I have her face, her name, her voice, her mind, but we are not the same person anymore... she died when she fell from the sky and I was born when the old man picked me up from the ground." I was trembling, my voice was barely a whisper, raw from my scream. "Don't treat me like her! She's the past! You can't relive the past, Fang! You can't! You can't! I've already tried!" My arms were wrapped around myself, my head pressed against the carpet, and I cried. I was bawling, trying desperatley to breathe.

Adieu
Nightwing

All my love to my tired friends, the ones who fell, the ones who tried. To them I wish happiness because the love we had for that world will always be with us, even when our world was burned away in front of our eyes...

So, yeah, all my love... I remember back in the day (even when in reality it was only two years ago) when I was trying to be somebody and I just absolutely loved going onto the MR fanfics with its limited pages and I could find everything I wanted to read. Not so much anymore. Somehow, I think this genre is more for lowering IQ points than anything else. Why did MR go down the drain while Danny Phantom didn't? Maybe if there's an uprising the MR fanfiction will be saved but only then...

Don't mind me, I'm just rambling on...

Challengers! Makmay04, soccerchick9417, Bubble Blower, RandomlyCheesey: Sorry kiddos, that's not the 'correct' answer I was looking for.

The answer indeed is: LAUGHTER!

VampiressE12B, SilverwingedSacrifice, FreeFaller0426 all win a cookie!

P.S. I have to warn you, I'm getting my typing skills back, it's insane, I can't believe I miss typing so much...

Self Conclusion

Her

Iggy frowned for the billionth time that day, agitating Fang on purpose. "What?" Fang snapped quietly, familiar with Iggy's technique to corner somebody about a problem. "What's the problem?"

"You're a jerk." Iggy's frown deepened. "I mean to do that to her? You must be out of your mind." Iggy glared sightlessly at Fang. "She wasn't ready. She's not the girl you know. And you do that. Disgusting."

"What are you talking about?"

"You kissed Max, Fang." Iggy sighed in frustration at the older teen. "She's eight years old, well in a sense of course, and you're asking her to just suddenly become this girl you know, you've imagined. That's not fair to her. I know you convinced her from jumping of a cliff to her death but it doesn't mean you can make her regret not jumping."

"What are you talking about, Iggy? You're out on a limb! She's happy here, don't you see?" Fang grimaced at his last word.

"No," Iggy grinned in a bitter but smug manner, "I don't see but you don't see her. What makes you think she's happy? You're still desperately searching for the Max you left the School with. She's not here, not anymore. Never once has she mentioned being happy here, we've only caused her pain. Do you get that?"

"You're being absurd." Fang scoffed. If Iggy glared any harder Fang swore he'd be set on fire, a harsh laugh escaped Iggy's throat, the sound made Fang flinch.

"Do you really think that? Me? Absurd? Then tell me why she's clutching Celeste to her chest, Total's curled in her lap, and Angel's crying with her. Not for her, not because of her, but WITH her. Tell me why Max, the eight-year-old girl, is bawling like a baby like a part of her just died! Tell me Fang, because apparently you think you know this child better."

"She's not a child!" Fang snapped. "Do you get that one? She's eighteen years old!"

"Which she lost ten years when she fell! Didn't you tell me the only reason she came back with you was because of some stupid red string? Only a naïve child would follow a stranger, we're all still strangers to her but she's choosing to trust you and what everyone says, and what are you doing? Oh yeah, being a total ass about it."

"She's not eight years old…" Fang mumbled.

"Physically, no, but mentality is all that matters around here. Angel could fight like the rest of us when she was six. It's the mindset. She hasn't grown up yet. As far as I know, she's still a farmer's child who played around with a dog she called Max two." And at that moment Iggy sidestepped Fang, muttering something about lunch.

Fang winced at the pain in his eye as he approached Angel's room, the door opened only a crack. Max was handing back a worn out white teddy bear, tears still in her eyes Angel continued to cry softly.

"He's just being mean right now." Angel assured Max. " He thinks that you're someone else, he know you're her so he thinks she's still inside you."

"Well then he's just being stupid. He knows I'm not her. She been dead for years… she's not going to come back…" Max's voice drifted from the door. "I've looked for her, when I can't sleep at night… she's gone. She doesn't want to stay."

"You're lying!" Fang burst into the room, his expression angry. Max jumped at the sound of the door slamming against the wall but Angel looked calmly, if not disapprovingly at Fang, her blue eyes serious.

"You don't really think that." Angel frowned. "That's not very nice."

"Stay out of this, Angel." Fang growled in frustration. He had spent years looking for Max and here she was saying she didn't remember, that the one he knew all his life didn't want to stay. "Don't lie, Max. I know she's there, I can see her in you."

"No." For once, Max's voice was firm, her tears went dry, and she glared at Fang. "You see me in me. All those memories, her personality, everything about her is gone. There's not part of me that's missing. The only hole I ever felt was for this flock and now that I'm here there's no part missing."

"Stop lying." Fang snapped.

"You're calling me a liar? Great, thanks for being an ass."

"If she isn't with you then why do you act the way you do? Only Max would use sarcastic comments."

"I'm pretty sure the whole world uses sarcastic comments." Max glared. "If you're talking about how I can act like a teen is because I my family died. I made myself survive. Just leave. If I am who everyone says I am, you have to listen to me. Just leave." And with a slam of a door Fang was gone and Max had collapsed to her knees.

I slipped from Angel's room, walking down the darkened hallway, my hands tracing the walls as I headed towards the kitchen in hopes of food. It was still strange, being in this place with people like me, and I could hardly get used to it. Part of me was unsettled with Fang being in the same building with me, seeing as he just went crazy. I mean kissing me of all things! And then the nerve of him calling me a liar!

I tripped over the carpet and landed with a thud on the ground, a frown on my face because Fang was only a few feet away, talking softly to Iggy on a barstool.

"Let me help you up." Iggy was by my side in an instant, lifting me without effort, an apologetic smile on his face. He led me towards a barstool, three barstools away from Fang. "Are you hungry? I was about to make some grilled cheese."

"Yeah, I'm hungry." I grinned, my stomach rumbling. I kept my gaze on Iggy, refusing to look to my right where Fang would be, attempting small talk. I would ignore Fang, like the eight year old I was. "So how long have you been cooking?"

"About eight years." Iggy shrugged. "If I manage to get good ingredients then we'll have a five star restaurant in this run down kitchen."

"Haven't you ever burned yourself?"

"Twice." I watched Iggy flip the grilled cheese sandwich high into the air and my gaze followed the sandwich back down to the pan. "Both times were not kitchen accidents."

"…Okay…? From what then?"

"Bombs of course." The answer seemed so simple to him but it was completely beyond me. Bombs? I thought only the little blonde boy, Gazzy I think his name was, did that… "Gazzy had to learn how to make bombs from somewhere." Iggy chuckled, already knowing my train of thought.

"Then how'd you learn?"

"Funny story…" Iggy trailed off and I saw his sightless eyes glance in Fang's direction.

"Oooh! Food!" The girl called Nudge hopped up to a stool beside me. "You're making, like, seven for me, right Iggy? Make them SUPER cheesy. I'm in a cheesy mood." She seemed to be grinning ear to ear.

"Like you aren't cheesy enough by yourself." I heard Iggy mumble under his breath and I laughed. I watched Iggy grin as he raised his voice to reply to Nudge. "Sure thing, super cheesy."

"Can mine be super cheesy? With jalapenos, ham, turkey, and, and, lots of butter?" Gazzy was suddenly at Iggy's side, his eyes wide as he eyed the grilled cheese sandwich on the pan. I could only giggle.

"Any other requests?" Iggy called out.

"Four for me and Celeste." Angel's voice rang in my ears. "Fang's fine with whatever and Max is thinking about five for her."

"Thanks Ang." Iggy saluted with a spatula in his hand. Nudge, Gazzy, and Angel talked adamantly as I watched Iggy cook an increasingly large stack of grilled cheese sandwiches. "Get them while they're warm." Iggy tossed plates to us before setting the large stack in front of us.

I ate mine quietly, frowning at a cold gaze that had fallen on me. I moved from the barstool to the couch, trying hard to ignore the gaze but it followed me, it even bore through the couch. I was grimacing though each bite of the fifth sandwich and restraining myself from throwing the plate when I was done.

"Will you stop it? What is your deal?" I rounded on Fang, jumping up from the couch, wincing as I did so. Fang had yet to touch his grilled cheese and I had apparently stunned the rest of the flock. "All you do is give me a hard time! Maybe it was a mistake to trust you back then, maybe I should have- "

"What?" Fang's voice was suddenly thunderous and I nearly flinched. "Jumped off that cliff? I would have dove and saved you."

"You wouldn't have, you didn't even know me. If it wasn't for that string – "

"So what about the string? You already promised to stay!" I could see Fang clenching his jaw. Like this was hard for him. He wasn't missing ten years of his life, he didn't have someone harassing him, and he didn't have to deal with someone acting like, well, him!

"I may have agreed but it doesn't mean I can't change my mind!" I snapped at Fang in the middle of the room, the flock watching us argue back and forth.

"You finally found a family and you're just now willing to give it up?"

"NO! But I just can't stand around here with you treating me like I'm that girl! I'm not her!"

"You are! Everything about you-"

"STOP IT!" I screamed, tears streaming down my face. "These scars on my arms don't belong to her, this sad smile doesn't either. I have her face, her name, her voice, her mind, but we are not the same person anymore… she died when she fell from the sky and I was born when the old man picked me up from the ground." I was trembling, my voice was barely a whisper, raw from my scream. "Don't treat me like her! She's the past! You can't relive the past, Fang! You can't! I've already tried!" My arms were wrapped around myself, my head pressed against the carpet, and I cried. I was bawling, trying desperately to breathe.

"DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH ME!" I screamed once more. My voice had cracked in many places as I sensed the flock approaching me. I wanted to suffocate, I wanted to die, hadn't I already given up on life before? I had tried, I wanted to know why she was so important to Fang, so I tried to relive her past and there was only pain. She didn't want to come back… there was too much pain for her and so she disappeared. My heart squeezed and I felt the tears running down my face. I wanted to die, just let me right now. I was a fool to think I would fit in with people like me. Let me join the old woman and man, I miss them… They'd welcome me with open arms…

"Don't touch me, don't touch me," I found myself repeating when my ear could hear again. My mind tuned out noise again, the pain inside was greater than what mattered out side.

And all the while the back of my mind kept whispering: shh, shh, everything's going to be okay…

So now another chapter of my life is over and I can once again dedicate myself to writing more chapters unlike the last unpleasant few months when I went boy crazy. I'll work hard to bring myself up to speed, to be my formal self once again and be somewhat normal.

No challenge kiddos, sorry.

Preview:

Dead Inside

I flinched seeing her, that child who always watches me in my dreams. She makes me ache, she makes me cry and scream. The flock's already woken me up because my screaming would escape my dream world and into reality. She taunts me in her innocent way, that child is always changing, that child leaves me dead inside when all I want to do is breathe.

Adieu
Nightwing

Did I tell you guys I wrote my college essay as a letter to Jay Gatsby? It was an awesome letter and I got accepted into 3 colleges with it. Yeah.... So again (for the umpteenth time) I'm sorry I haven't been around but I'm still writing!

Hmm... seems I didn't follow the Preview like I said I would... whoops, next chapter... promise :D

Enjoy!

Self Conclusion

Mr. Gatsby

I'm back in that room again.

The walls were painted black and a star chart projector sat in the center of the room. I could gaze at the light painted stars for hours, and for the most part I think I already do, trying to find the star that has all the answers.

"Talk to the Patron Saint of Lost Causes." I jumped from my seat to see myself, calm cool and collected, her boots thumping on seemingly tiled floor. Each thump caused me to shiver. Max slowed to a stop before me, her gaze apologetic. "I'm not going back, we're a lost cause. There's no way you could get me to come back and there's no way for you to gain acceptance if you don't. Talk to the Patron Saint."

"I can't." My voice wavered and I suddenly felt like the eight year old I was. I felt smaller and unsure and I saw my own lips press thinly before she picked me up effortlessly, resting me on her hip. "I don't know what Saints are and Fang, he's in real pain."

"He's just being Fang, my dear. He is being the great Mr. Gatsby and I'm counting on you to save him from his tragic end."

"Mr. Gatsby?"

"The Great Gatsby. Never mind, at any rate I'll be here if you need me until you just want me. I'll rarely ever show you our memories, Max dear, because I'd rather you not remember like everyone else does. I want to see if you can turn out a little better than I did." My face flushed in anger.

"What if I wanna know?!" I asked, my little hands clenching into fists as I glared at my older self. "What if I need to know?!" I bared my teeth in a grimace, Max set me down, patting my head as she towered over me.

"All you need to know is love. Remember what the old man and lady felt for you, remember what the flock feels for you. You just need love and you'll feel whole."

"NO!" I snapped, slapping her hand away and the room changed to a blank white room. "You don't know how lonely it is to not remember! To have them look at you expecting YOU not ME! No matter how much they include me I can't feel whole, I can't feel loved because I'm not you Max! I'm not you." Tears started streaming down my face, my tantrum burned at my face. I was upset and ashamed for yelling at myself, what good would that do? "It's lonely there! It's scary, it's big, and Fang hates me! I don't want to go back!"

Max was on her knees hugging me and stroking my hair whispering, "Shh, shh, everything's going to be okay…" over and over.

When I woke up Iggy was sitting quietly at the foot of my bed. He seemed calm and unbothered which was weird 'cause it bothered me. "What's up?" My voice croaked and I suddenly became aware I had been crying in my sleep, my cheeks seemed to crack the stream of dried tears.

"The Great Gatsby." Iggy stated simply. "Jay Gatsby, an amazing fellow, lied and cheated his way through life with half truths with the intention to have the love of his life fall in love with him again. He became surprisingly rich quickly through reason's 'unknown' but was considered 'new money' and therefore not accepted into the rich society. To be accepted into the rich society you needed to have 'old money', ergo you already had it. The love of his life did in fact love him but she loved her actual husband more and with that disappointment and other circumstances Jay Gatsby was killed. Well, in a nutshell, you'd understand it better if you read it. There's a lot more to it."

"How did you know?" I was bewildered.

"Max told me." Iggy stated as simply as before. He frowned suddenly as if knowing my confused expression before smiling sheepishly with a shrug. "Well not you Max but Max Max. She came while you were sleeping and woke me up. She talked to me about stuff – no, it's classified – and while she started mentioning The Great Gatsby she started crying. She said it was you who was crying and told me to tell you the gist of The Great Gatsby and for you to understand why Jay was so important. Any questions?" My hands gripped the covers as I sat up, propping myself against the pillows, filtering his words and thinking about his summary of The Great Gatsby.

"Mr. Gatsby sounds more like me than Fang. I'm 'new money' in a sense, I don't have your… experience. Lets just call it that… and… it's starting to feel like I have to lie, give half truths – especially to Fang – about me and Max. I mean, not that I have yet 'cause I don't want to but if feels like I have to…"

"But it's Fang who is the other half of Mr. Gatsby, Max. He wants you to love him, he knows the old Max already does so he just wants her back. He's been pining for you for eight years, I swear he's on the verge of crazy." Iggy sighed, running a hand through his strawberry blonde hair. "But," Iggy paused as if attempting to find the correct words, "what's important is yourself, you finding out who you are, not who Max is despite what Fang wants. We will accept you no matter what or who you become because all you can be is yourself, we can't ask for more than that." Iggy grinned.

"You will accept me but you do ask for more, you've always done it, all of you. You ask it of each other and you've especially asked it of me several times back then." I cocked my head, my brows furrowing as small memories drifted transparently through my mind. "Not verbally but those looks, how she would cave to those looks back then…" I laughed bitterly, a tight smile playing on my lips and my eyes downcast. "She felt so pressured to be the bravest, the strongest, the wisest, the best because she couldn't resist the looks you guys gave her… Someone had to be the best, it might as well be the one the most willing." I flinched at something inside me while Iggy leapt from his seated position to grab my arms. I winced, his grip hurt.

"Listen here," Iggy frowned, his teeth clenched tight, "We never meant to pressure Max and we never mean to pressure you but we live in a dog eat dog world. We're barbarians Max, we have to be the best to survive and we look towards the best of the best so we can survive better. You were the best of the best even before we unintentionally pressured you and I know why you fell behind that day Max. I know why you fell and why you wanted to forget. Don't pull this 'poor me' crap forever. I know you don't remember, I know you're only eight years old, and I know why the real Max doesn't want to come back." Iggy released his grip on me as I sorted through his words. He was talking to me and Max at the same time, wow, confusing. Iggy slipped from the bed and headed towards the door. As his hand touched the door Iggy looked at me, an apologetically grave expression playing his features. He smiled thinly, opened the door, said, "I know why the caged bird sings." and closed the door behind him.

"Well I don't." I said to the door. "Someone needs to tell me why, someone needs to tell me how to save Mr. Gatsby, and someone… someone tell me who I'm supposed to be." I was pouting to myself, asking myself to tell me what to do.

"Be my Max." I jumped at Fang's voice and I became aware of him standing in the doorway.

"I can't." I shook my head, my head spinning in the process. "I can pretend only to a certain extent, just like you." I blinked noticing Fang raise his brows slightly as if shocked. "Yeah, you heard me, you can only pretend a little bit too. Right now you're pretending that you're patiently waiting, that you're telling me to take my time but I know you. You're restraining yourself from coming over here and shaking me senseless until Max comes back. It's not going to happen."

"Have you always been this rude?" Fang frowned, his brows furrowing slightly in disappointment.

"Children," I began slowly, "say the blunt things in life, what's up front and real."

"But you know you're not a child."

"I know I'm not really eight years old, I think my body is proof of that, my vocabulary has been improving since I met the flock but… when I remember a little it's like I grow a bit older. I feel like I'm ten years old now…" My fingers stretched at the thought. "But I haven't grown up and you can't pretend." I looked at my hands, flexing my fingers in a pattern. "Who was I then? What was I like before I lost my memories?" I asked Fang, half knowing the answer.

"You were someone I wanted to protect." Fang stated simply as he walked towards the bed. "You were always the strong one, you smiled just before our dying day and gave me my name and I wanted to protect you, to prove to you that you didn't have to be strong."

"What do you mean dying day?" I asked.

"There was a point in time they thought we were defects and put us into the death chamber, they were going to gas us and we both knew it but you smiled and laughed at me and asked if you could name me. I nodded but I still remember the terrified smile in your eyes and you named me Fang."

"And?"

"They did gas us, we felt like we were dying, it tasted horrible, but it couldn't kill us and the White Coats never saw us as defects again."

"You never realize how strong you are until you're weak." The words escaped my lips my hands moved to cover my lips but never reached that far.

"What are you doing?" Fang eyed the struggle of my arms. My arms were in front of me, ready to cradle something but they were tense and attempting to move.

"I'm not, I'm not doing anything!" I replied, my voice frightened. I couldn't control my body. "Max!" I cried. "Stop it! Please stop it!" Fang was staring at me with wide eyes. He must think I'm crazy.

"Not till he hears what I have to say!" My voice snapped, the fear still evident in my eyes. "Fang, get your ass over here now." An order. He was over in an instant, he knew it was his Max in front of him. My mind drifted from the conversation as Max took complete control and she soothed me with a memory of the old man and woman.

I flinched away when my mind snapped back and Max faded away. Fang was holding my hand but his hand flashed to his side when he noticed I had come back. "See? It didn't hurt." I laughed but the words were not my own. My arms dropped to my side and I sighed, content that I was free again.

"I'm scared." I suddenly said, curling into myself a bit. Fang's presence was, for once, comforting.

"I know." He replied.

"I don't know what to do."

"I know." My heart ached at his gentle replies. Iggy called from the kitchen but neither of us moved.

"Will you teach me whatever I need to know?"

"I will." She ached too; she hated his two-word sentences as much as I do.

"Will I ever be able to take charge again?"

"You will." He held his hand out to help me out of bed. I grasped it, suddenly feeling a rush of electricity running down my arm, and he pulled gently.

I slid out, stumbling out onto the floor and falling clumsily into Fang's chest. "Ah," my mind went numb, tears suddenly sprang from my eyes, and my arms unconsciously wrapped around Fang's waist. "She loves you so much." Her sadness wracked my body with sobs.

"…I know."

Yep... Um so no challenge again, I don't have enough time to write one... so I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Reviews are loved. The Preview will be last chapter's preview reposted and yeah...

Dead Inside

Adieu
Nightwing

Category:	Maximum Ride
Genre:	Angst, Romance
Language:	English
Status:	In-Progress
Published:	2007-08-02 20:30:16
Updated:	2009-03-20 12:04:22
Packaged:	2021-04-21 23:17:38
Rating:	T
Chapters:	8
Words:	17,427
Publisher:	www.fanfiction.net
Summary:	AU Fax Max was separated the day of escape from the School. Eight years later she's looking for her family, one deadend after the other and she's steadily losing hope...Will she find the home she's been dreaming of or leap off the cliffs, wings tucked in?

Self Conclusions by Nightwingstar

Table of Contents

1. Forgetmenot

2. Like Snow

3. Excuse Me Miss

4. Their Faces

5. Temperature

6. Hard

7. Her

8. Mr Gatsby