DISCLAIMER: I do not own Maximum Ride or any of its characters.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I have no idea why I wrote this story. There was absolutely no inspiration for this one. This is the randomest story I've ever written. It's stupid. I didn't mean for it to turn out as a romance, but the story was already so crappy that it would have sucked even more with the one-sided romance in it. Sigh This must be the worst story that's ever crossed my head. But I've already written it, so I might as well put it up. Don't kill me if it sucks.
Nudge sped over the rough terrain on foot, rapidly dodging spindly trees, listening for the heavy crash of Flyboys pursuing her. She was puffing, mist rising from her mouth with every breath. She would have preferred to fly, but with one of her wings broken, she might as well have been as slow as a pigeon.
"Nudge," Angel mumbled, finally moving. "I think they left. I can't hear them anymore."
"Sure?" Nudge asked breathlessly, skidding to a halt. She focused on her hearing and listened intently. She thought she could hear the faint beat of wings catching an updraft on the wings, but her hearing wasn't as sharp as Iggy's, so she had to take Angel's word.
Carefully, she laid Angel on the ground. She was bleeding, the side of her ragged shirt torn and saturated with crimson liquid. Her face was paler than usual, her skinny limbs suddenly looking very frail.
"Angel?" Nudge whispered anxiously. "Are you okay?"
"They hurt me," Angel whimpered. The first tears started to leak out of her eyes. "And it really hurts…I want Max," she sobbed. "I want Max…"
"Shh," Nudge comforted. She was, for once, lost for words. Instead, she gently turned Angel onto her side to look at the wound. She pursed her lips at the damage. Then she carefully lowered the injured six-year-old again and tried to look bright. "Hey, it's not so bad," she encouraged, her voice starting to break and tremble. "It doesn't hurt, does it?"
Angel stared at her strangely. She was, undoubtedly, reading her thoughts. Then she turned her head away and sniffed. "Doesn't hurt," she mumbled. "I'm strong. Max says I'm strong."
Nudge tore the sleeve off her shirt and folded it into a pad, pressing it against the deep gashes in Angel's side. She bit her lip when the blood soaked through almost immediately. Her eyes started to water. The situation reminded her of the time when Fang had almost been killed by Ari.
Stupid Fang, she thought angrily. It's all his fault. Why didn't he come? When we needed him the most, he just upped and left us!!
Suddenly, Angel's eyelids fluttered and her eyes opened again. Nudge hadn't noticed they had been closed. She tried to smile assuringly and applied a little more pressure on the wound.
Angel winced, but she didn't look away from Nudge's face. "Fang didn't want to go, Nudge," she whispered weakly. "He wanted to stay, but he didn't want us to see."
"See what?"
"That he was dying."
Nudge's hand slipped, the blood-soaked pad falling to the ground. She felt the blood rush from her face as she gingerly picked up the pad again. She tried to avert her thoughts away from Fang as she worked. No, don't think of him. Don't even think about it.
"He made me promise," Angel said, sounding terribly guilty. "He told me not to tell anyone, not even Max. I shouldn't have told you."
"Then why did you?" Nudge asked, biting down hard on her lip. It took most of her self-control not to force her distress into Angel. "If he made you promise, I mean. You were always very good at keeping promises. You always kept mine."
Angel closed her eyes and turned her head so that it rested against Nudge's knee. "Yeah," she said, her voice getting softer. "But then it doesn't really count when I'm going to die too."
"You're not going to die."
"Then why do you keep thinking it?"
Nudge banished the thought from her mind. "Not thinking it anymore," she said, trying to sound cheerful. She lifted the pad and inspected the wound. It would have to do for now. She tore off her other sleeve and stretched the elastic material to its full length. Then she wrapped it tightly around Angel's side, hoping it would be enough to stifle the blood.
Angel winced, but she didn't open her eyes. "Where's Max, Nudge?" she mumbled.
"Looking for us, no doubt," Nudge replied. She truthfully didn't know. When the horde of Flyboys had attacked them, they had scattered. Max had been in such a bad shape with Fang leaving that she hadn't even tried to keep the flock together. It was easier for their opponents to pick them off individually, and that was exactly what the Flyboys had done. Perhaps they would have stood a chance with Fang…
Oh God…don't think about Fang. Don't think about Fang. Or Max. Don't think about anything, Nudge. Get that mouth open and shut off that brain.
"Angel? You sleeping?"
"No." Angel opened her eyes and smiled at Nudge. "I looked like I was, didn't I?"
"Yup," she agreed. "Just like Sleeping Beauty. But I'm not going to kiss you, 'cause you weren't sleeping."
"I don't wanna be kissed."
Nudge's eyes glimmered mischievously. The talking really was working. "Why? Have you already been kissed before?"
"No." Angel giggled softly. "I saw Fang kiss Max and it didn't look nice, so I don't wanna be kissed.
The mention of Fang broke through Nudge's defense. She couldn't hold it back anymore. "Hey, Angel."
Angel turned to her, curious at the tone in Nudge's voice. "Yeah?"
"When did it start coming up?"
"What started coming up?"
"The barcode. Fang's barcode. When'd he know he was going to die? I thought we had years." Nudge bit her lip to stop the tears from flowing down freely. She hurriedly dashed away the ones that had.
"Oh. That." Angel shifted so that her head was resting on Nudge's lap. "Last month, I think. After he kissed Max."
It was another kick in the gut for Nudge. She felt like reeling backward, out of breath. Her mind was still trying to recover from the events that just kept rushing at her. Fang was all over her mind, images of him kissing Max popping up in her head.
She tried to distract herself. "Angel?"
No sound.
"Angel?" Nudge listened and watched intently. Angel wasn't moving. She started to panic. "Oh no. No, no, no, no, no. Angel, wake up. Angel!"
Then Angel groaned. "What?" she whined, her voice feeble. "Wanna sleep…"
Nudge sighed in relief. She gathered Angel in her arms and rocked her gently. "Okay, Sleeping Beauty. Do what you're supposed to do."
The silence seemed to envelop Nudge and cocoon her in a muffling quietness. Angel's ragged but steadying breath was the only sound she could hear for miles. Nudge's thoughts were left to themselves to wander. Then she, too, fell asleep.
Almost an hour later, Nudge woke. Her mind was groggy. Angel was still cradled in her lap, her face no longer scrunched up in pain. Nudge had fallen asleep against a tree. She lifted a hand to help her sit up properly. As her fingers brushed against the trunk, a flood of images entered her mind.
A boy and a girl, giggling as the boy drew out a Swiss Army knife from his pocket. He carved an amateurish heart into the bark, and then scratched their initials inside the love symbol. The girl beamed and leaned up to kiss his cheek. He grinned and kissed her, too, but on the lips.
Nudge came out of the memory, panting. She lifted her hand off the tree, and saw that the faded heart was still etched into the bark. She smiled faintly, and took out her own knife. Gently lowering Angel, she carved a heart next to its elder and slowly whittled a pair of names into the centre.
Minutes later, she sat back on her heels and admired her work. Then she thought of Fang, of how he had kissed Max, how he was already dying, and it made her smash her fist into the bark. The bark at where she had just drawn her heart was splintered and cracked, the names no longer legible.
Nudge sighed and curled up in a small ball, burying her face in her arms. She had to bury her feelings, too. Her more-than-brotherly feelings for Fang. They had to leave her now, or she would never forget them. They had to leave, just like the boy they had been directed to.
The tears leaked out of her eyes. She didn't try to wipe them away this time. She let them spill down her cheeks and drop to the ground. But she didn't sob, didn't wail or cry out in inner-pain. The tears just came, and her mouth remained firmly shut. She tried not to chuckle at the irony. She'd always been the Nudge-channel since she had been a kid. She just couldn't resist talking. It was like a dog and a bone; it was uncontrollable. Her mouth was closed in a firm line, now.
No more talking. No more Nudge-channel. No more Fang.
Life was silent.