Disclaimer: "Avatar" doesn't belong to me, blah blah blah… Oh. Max Ride, too, is property of James Patterson. It was HIS idea, not mine. (sigh)

Author's Notes: OK, so here's how it's gonna go down—I got sick Sunday night/Monday morning (threw up three times) and got to stay home from school yesterday and today, too. I'm gonna write a quick prologue-esque chapter and see how that goes down. If I get enough reviews, I'll continue it. If it tanks, I'll take it off the site permanently so no one will ever have to look at it again. But here's the thing, folks—I haven't forgotten about "Out the Window," so don't worry; I've just run into a couple of road blocks… one of which is called "writers' block." But don't freak out; "Out the Window" will be up and running shortly… as soon as I can figure out where it's going this chapter. :P

ONE LAST THING: This is only the second time in my life I've ever gotten sick, and to be honest, it sucks. D: But maybe if I'm feeling well enough, I'll find the time to write… So basically, it's all up to you. Review and it continues. Don't and I pull it off the site. OH, and this is a crossover between "Maximum Ride" and "Avatar," but you don't have to read the books to get this story. It's pretty self-explanatory.

The Angel Experiment

"Five unforgettable kids—with no families, no homes—are running for their lives. Aang Yangchen, Sokka and Katara Kuruk, Toph Beifong, and Zuko Sozin are reluctant best friends of circumstance, coming together only to defeat a common enemy, but finding a little something more along the way. The friends are products of an experiment: they were engineered to fly. And that's just the beginning of their amazing powers. Now they've escaped, and they need to know who made them, who's hunting them, and why they were designed as super-heroes with magnificent abilities."

-Edited text from James Patterson's book "Maximum Ride: The Angel Experiment"

The sounds of a heart monitor filled the whitewashed room with an empty, monotonous tone.

Beep… beep… beep…

White-clad doctors hunched over their charts, murmuring and scribbling down data as they eyed their subject. There were only three of them, but three couldn't have been more intimidating.

Two pale bare feet continued to pound away on the treadmill, the track moving at impossibly fast speeds. The young chest heaved with exertion; it must've been hours they'd had him on this treadmill…

Around him, the doctors (scientists) nodded their graying, hawkish heads. "Very impressive," one spoke softly. "I've never seen anything like it…"

"Heart rate and breathing are accelerated, yet he shows no signs of fatigue whatsoever."

"Let's have another go at him, shall we? See how long he lasts this time."

The boy on the treadmill panted, forcing his skinny legs to work faster and harder than they had ever done before. The EKG beeped in warning at what would've killed a normal human being, while the men in white lab coats simply muttered in mute fascination and continued scribbling on their clipboards. The boy turned dark gray eyes heavenward—just a few more minutes, just a few more minutes…

It felt like his heart was about to explode from his chest. The boy gasped, nearly ripping off his head and heart monitors right then and there. He remembered the pat, pat, pat of his bare feet against the track, and the twick noise his dogtags made bouncing across his front. Three hours… he couldn't do this anymore… The edges of the boy's vision began to go gray and hazy as the oxygen seemed to pull itself from his chest. The twelve-year-old collapsed in an exhausted pile at the base of the treadmill.

--

Katara gasped as three men in labcoats hauled a limp, nearly lifeless body into the room where she slept. It was nearly dark in here all the time, and the bright yellow light spilling from the hallway almost blinded her. But the girl pushed through it and watched as her friend was thrown roughly to the side. She curled dark fingers around the wire of her cage—it was like a large dog kennel. And it was so degrading. But thankfully, she and her friend's cages were close enough together that they could communicate easily.

The boy groaned and rubbed his head, trying to push himself up on one elbow before collapsing. Katara cried out for him, sticking tanned fingers through the bars of her kennel to wrap them around the thin, pale digits of her companion. He was panting and exhausted, so Katara murmured words of whispered encouragement and motherly affection towards him.

"Oh Aang… you did so good, buddy. You did so good. I can't believe it…" The light from the hallway was all but blocked off now, leaving the two in a twilight-esque sort of darkness. Katara couldn't help but smile when her friend Aang flashed her a grateful grin.

"I can't believe… I went that long, Katara…" Dark fingers pulled his hand tighter.

She smiled. "I can't believe it either."

Kennels in the room were generally cramped, barely large enough for you to sit up comfortably in. There were also many places where cages were stacked – what? – two, three high. As such, there was another cage directly in front of Aang and Katara where a boy, not much older than the two of them, lay sleeping. At their whispered talk, the teen groaned and uncurled himself from his sleeping position, stretching as much as possible in the tiny space.

Katara could barely make out his silhouette in the darkened room, but she recognized his style and demeanor anywhere. "Welcome back to the land of the living, Sokka," she said dryly. Aang chuckled softly before lying back against the wire in exhaustion. The newcomer grumbled and rubbed his eyes.

"Who what now…?" Sokka took one look at the dark figure of his friend slumping against the kennel, and he knew what had happened. His visage hardened. For as long as he could remember, it had just been the three of them—locked in this room, in these kennels built for animals, constantly being tested and watched and injected with God-knows-what. He was so tired of them taking advantage of Aang and Katara… taking advantage of his family.

The older boy offered a few soothing words of encouragement before sticking his dark fingers toward Aang's sleeping cell.

Just as suddenly, a burst of light signaled that the men were back. Blinking and shying away from the bright irritation, the three barely had time to register anything before six pairs of hands grabbed Sokka out of his kennel and pushed him out the door.

As the light faded, Aang and Katara fingered their dogtags, sharing a separate but meaningful look with each other. Katara ran her thumb over the punched metal tags. Hers read:

Katara

Experiment # 01486

Telekinesis

Aang, the younger, sighed before examining his own tags in the dwindling twilight. They had no last names—they weren't necessary. All he knew was what his tags said…

Aang

Experiment #01277

Supersonic Flight

It was weird, mainly because neither of them had ever experienced something like "telekinesis" or "supersonic flight." Those must've been just recessive genes injected into their DNA, much like their avian DNA which had been grafted into them at a young age. It was easier for their bodies to adjust to the strange changes of new DNA when they were babies and had fewer cells—that way, when their natural cells multiplied, so did their brand-new "bird" cells. Ever since they were little, Aang and Katara couldn't remember a day without this place, without the scientists and this whitewashed hell simply called the School.

But it made them wonder. There were three of them with special avian genetics, and countless others grafted with toad-like genes or some other freakish genetic experiments. Were there others like them out there? Or were they the only ones?

Katara hummed softly as Aang's bare chest rose and fell as he slept.

--

The west wing of the compound was dedicated solely to fire, combustion, and basically anything that could explode.

I guess that explains why I'm here, the dark-haired teenager thought dimly. He reached out a hand and ran pale fingers across the cold metal walls of his current imprisonment. They were testing him, he knew. They wanted to see how far they could push him, how hot he could get. Liquid golden eyes narrowed into slits and glared hatefully through the only opening in his metal box.

Idiots. Didn't they know if they played with fire, they were going to get burned?

Fire was all he knew. This cursed compound was all he knew. Heck, he didn't even know his name anymore. The only indication that he was an actual human being was a set of metal tags around his neck, but the teen couldn't even trust those stupid things. He exhaled a fiery breath but examined his tags anyway. They were his only form of identity now.

Zuko

Experiment #01613

Pyrokinesis, Radioactivity

Whatever the heck that meant.

A tinny voice erupting from somewhere around him startled Zuko out of his thoughts. "Begin," was all it said.

Zuko allowed a small smirk to play across his features. They wanted a show? Well. They were about to get one. He planted his feet shoulder-width apart from each other and, clenching his fists at his sides, he began to breathe. In, out, in out. There was a fire that was constantly burning inside him, unable to be sated unless fully released—now was his chance. The teen continued breathing deeply in and out while he let the white-hot pressure build within his stomach.

Tiny orange flames erupted from his knuckles and began licking their way up his pale flesh, consuming his hands and forearms in a matter of seconds. Zuko chuckled and tilted his chin upwards in a show of pride. Golden amber eyes glinted as his fire exploded and consumed him from the inside out. Before he knew it, flames were licking up and across and around his body; the teen turned up the heat and breathed out slowly. He was not holding back this time.

His dark hair began whipping around his face as his entire body turned into radiation. It almost seemed like something out of a movie… but no, this was real. This was reality.

Zuko was a freak of nature, and he doubted if there was anyone else like him in the world. As his flames continued to explode and grow ever-larger, he watched with satisfaction through the hole in his metal cage—he watched as the strange men observing him murmured and gasped to each other. He watched as his fire burned so brightly that the metal walls around him began to waver and shake from the intense heat that was himself. And he watched in satisfaction as he began to glow so brightly his observers had to turn away.

All he could hear was a continual roaring in his ears, the fire all-consuming him inside and out. He breathed in, but even that air scalded his throat. Oxygen only made flames grow stronger, and grow stronger he did. Arcs of pure radioactive energy began erupting from his body, lashing out like solar flares around the sun…

"…Stop him… burn down the…"

Zuko's fists shook.

"STOP HIM!" A voice exploded out of nowhere.

Suddenly an eruption of pure icy-coldness surrounded him. Zuko fought back the urge to yell in horror and surprise, but instead collapsed on the ground. His fire was immediately extinguished. The teen grunted and placed a hand in his hair, only to bring it away with a sticky, foamy substance covering him. Fire extinguishers.

He groaned.

They just had to go and ruin all his fun, didn't they?

--

The room was bathed in icy darkness. …Then again, wasn't it always? The girl blinked her unseeing eyes and tilted her head upwards; she could sense the men surrounding her, poking and prodding and examining until she just wanted to scream and rip all their limbs off. But she didn't. She shook her arm lightly, but was only reminded of all the wires and needles attached to her.

"What is your name?" The thin voice came from somewhere towards her left.

"Toph," she answered, voice strong and full. She wasn't afraid of them. She had lived here her whole life, and she still wasn't afraid. She never would be.

"What are you?"

Again, she answered, "Experiment #01235, Sonic Vibration Recognition." It was something the people here did. Since she couldn't read, the men found it necessary to drill into her head every day what she was. She was just an experiment. She had no last name, no home, no family. Her only identity was a random number and a "power" that meant nothing to her.

So the girl held her head high and clung to the name "Toph," mainly because it was all she had.

I am Toph, she thought. I'm different. I'm special. A freak of nature.

She felt a familiar itching, straining sensation near her back, and she tried desperately to work out the cramp. Her clothes rustled loudly as they were displaced by two large lumps moving beneath her shirt. The doctors let out an exclamation and immediately pinned her down. "None of that now, girl," they chided. "Can't have you trying to escape."

Toph stopped and listened; she could literally feel their heartbeats racing in their chests. She smirked. So. They knew what she was capable of. She never wanted any of this crap, but at least there was the occasional upside. She could hear EVERYTHING—their pulses, their heartbeats, the beating wings of a fly one hundred feet away. That was the beauty of being blind, she supposed. The girl tapped the cold tile floor with her foot and listened as the vibrations reverberated throughout the room and returned back to her.

There were only three of them. She could take them.

So, taking every precaution not to hurt herself in the process, Toph tilted back her head and screamed. Sonic vibrations exploded through the air, and her observers were forced to cover their ears lest their eardrums explode. The girl smiled proudly to herself as she sensed the three men fall to the ground, writhing in pain. She continued to scream.

--

Sokka was pushed into a small room, standard here at the School. Nearly every room in the entire compound was exactly the same—whitewashed walls, cold tile floors, a single chair or a treadmill so "They" could watch you. But the South Wing was all he ever knew; the teen had no idea that there was a west wing dedicated to fire, or a northern wing with other strange and incomprehensible beings that could create earthquakes just by opening their mouths.

Sokka stumbled but didn't fall, taking a moment to catch himself against the far wall. He turned to face his aggressors—the same three men he had seen every day for his entire life. He frowned and stood on guard. What sort of paces would they force him through today…? Would they work him so hard he collapsed, like Aang? Or maybe inject him again with a foreign substance, like they had done to Katara just yesterday?

No. Today they only seemed interested in studying what he already had. Sokka reached up to grab his ID tags, but they weren't there. Shoot… they must've grabbed them off him while he wasn't paying attention. He nearly panicked; those stupid tags were the only form of identification he had.

A thin, hawk-nosed man approached him and ordered him to pull off his shirt. Sokka narrowed his eyes at the man but did as he was told. What choice did he have, anyway? If he didn't comply, not only would they hurt him, but his friends would be punished, too. The man hummed as he examined the teen's back.

The dark-skinned boy held his head high in pride; he really was a feat of scientific engineering. Two wings were situated on his back, folding neatly up and down the entirety of his torso. Since the avian genes had been grafted into him at a young age, the wings were as normal for him as for a hawk or an eagle. There were two shallow cavities where the feathered wings folded up, creating a nearly seamless line that could easily be covered up by a baggy T-shirt or a sweatshirt.

A tap on the back signaled him to open up. Sokka did so, sighing in relief—it felt so good to stretch all those cramp out. He unfurled his wings, stretching twenty feet across the entire room, wingtip to wingtip. He had the largest wingspan of the group, considering he was the oldest and the largest male. And he took intense pride in that. The doctors muttered and scribbled, as they usually did, and plucked at his dark chocolate-brown feathers, examining the sheen and the strange deep blue tips on the outside of his largest feathers.

(Sokka would never tell anyone, but his pride and joy were his blue-tipped feathers.)

The hawk-nosed man grunted again and signaled the boy to pull his wings back in before going in for a secondary examination. Needles were injected, blood was drawn, and tests were confirmed as the teen sat there, doing his best to simply grin and bear it. He was getting so cramped again… What he really wanted was to just throw out his wings as far as they would go and catch as much air under them as he possibly could, reveling in the way the updrafts pulled him along—

A thin metal chain was thrust into his hands. Sokka was confused for a moment, but then realized they had given him his re-punched ID tags. They read:

Sokka

Experiment #01527

No Recognizable Abilities

Post Author's Notes: Well! Hope y'all enjoyed! And remember, if enough people love it, I'll keep it going. Just… don't expect super-fast updates, OK? I've still got "Out the Window," not to mention countless other oneshots floating around in my head…

Ha. I love staying home from school. :D

OH! And I have a Facebook now; how exciting. I love adding friends… -3- Ciao, mis amigos! :D (Yes, I am aware those are two different languages.)

Review please! I'll love you forever if you do…