DON'T KILL ME! *Ducks from multiple flying object coming from angry readers) I am SOOOOOO sorry I haven't updated? What with final exams, being sick, track practice… and helping my mom around the house…. I haven't has much time to do much updating. Why am I helping my mom, you ask? Well…. My Grandpa passed away this year, and she was a TOTAL daddy's girl. So, it's hard on her at times… she's fine, though. She's tough. Well, as (hopefully?) redemption for not updating, I'll make this EXTRA long!

Disclaimer: I don't own.

~Elsie

Mustache

Max clutched her sides with laughter, leaning on Fang's arm and feeling his body shake as he too laughed, but quietly to Max's loud and rowdy. Iggy grinned behind his hand, happy that everyone was laughing, despite the fact that he couldn't see the object of their laughter.

What is this, you ask?

You might want to sit down for this.

….

Are you sitting?

Get this: Dr. Martinez was showing them pictures of when she was in high school, and it turns out that she went to school with Jeb. When looking through the album, Gazzy just happened to stumble across the jack-pot of blackmail:

Jeb.

In a light blue tux, with calf-high socks, and braces.

This wasn't the reason they were laughing, though.

Oh no.

They were laughing because of the perfect Pringles-man mustache perched like a trophy over Jeb's lip, tipped up at the edges like the robbers in old western movies. The mustache was so perfectly waxed and in place, you could've just plucked him out of the picture and onto a Monopoly game board.

Oh yes, Max thought deviously. This I can make do with.

Driveway

I've had some pretty bad scrapes my whole life. Most of the time, 'scrape' would be and understatement. But nothing put a deep rug-burn in my heart like watching Max stumble outside of the house, tears flooding out of her eyes and down her cheeks as she chased after something that was not there. Iggy ran outside, grabbing her shoulders and bringing his face down to hers, speaking to her quietly, urgently. She shook her head slowly, meekly trying to push him away and continue her search.

I could see him trying so hard to get her to stop, but I could see that the nice approach wasn't working.

So he yelled.

Max yelled back at him, shoving her hands on his chest until he let her go. She stumbled backwards, sliding across the pavement, blood leaking out of her skin where the asphalt rubbed against her back, arms, legs. Iggy just watched her cry helplessly, stepping back and leaning against the house, watching her.

"Nudge?" Angel asked, tugging on my hand. "Is Max okay?"

"No, Ange," I answered, not turning my face from the window. Watching Max lay on the driveway, begging for something that would never be, I ran my fingers through Angel's blonde curls and kissed her head. "Max isn't hurt. After Fang left, I just don't think she can find the will to be strong anymore."

Sacrifice

I couldn't look at myself.

Oh, stop being a cry baby, Fang, A snotty voice in my head said. Man up.

Oh, be quiet! I yelled back at it.

Standing alone in the bathroom, I looked everywhere but in the mirror as I closed my eyes, so sobs coming from my mouth. I simply let my eyelids come together resolutely, no tears burning in my eyes. It was just too late for me to cry.

Leaning back against the bathroom wall, I let my head fall back against the wall as I opened my eyes, watching the dull white ceiling, my face emotionless.

Don't strain yourself, I remember the doctor saying. The stitches might come undone.

Oh, why do I bother? I asked myself. It's not like it will make any difference.

Finally looking in the mirror, my eyes met the ones in the mirror. But the black eyes in the reflective glass weren't mine.

The eyes in the mirror were wiser, yet emotionless. The purple bags beneath them looked like the most profound of bruises, and I found myself smiling ruefully.

Good, I thought. Battle scars, those bruises are.

Wow, I sound like Yoda.

Random moment aside, I met eyes with Dr. Martinez from where she stood in the doorway. I knew that once I looked in the mirror, it would be real.

She's never forgive you, an evil voice in my head whispered. She'll leave you.

Ignoring that voice, I took a deep breath, turning myself so I could see behind me in the mirror.

There, before me in the very glass that those dull black eyes had met mine in earlier, where thick black scars running down the length of my back, coming together in a wide V that started on either side of my shoulders, down my spine and combined in the small of my back. Crying now, I smiled, nodding at Dr. Martinez.

It's okay, I told myself. As long as Max can fly, I don't need my wings anymore.

Cream

"Max?"

I looked up from my pancakes to see Gazzy sitting next to Fang, his eyes big as he held up a small, round container curiously.

"Yes, Gaz?" I said. He looked back up at me, meeting my eyes for a split second before his eyes went back to the container.

"Does coffee creamer taste bad?"

I rested my chin in my hands as I looked around at the tiny Wisconsin IHOP, scanning the crowd quickly for danger before looking back to him.

"I dunno," I replied. "Try it."

Gasman bit his lip, turning the container in his hand to examine the bottom. He looked back up at the rest of us, his head turning left and right to get us all in.

"Only if we all try it."

Locking eyes with Fang, I gave him a questioning look. He just shrugged, as if to say what can you do? with his shoulders.

"Okay, I guess I'll do it," I say, reaching out and grabbing one from the little dish in the table. Nudge and Iggy followed suit, Nudge passing one to Angel and Iggy slapping one in Fang's hand. I peeled off the top a bit, sniffing the white liquid. It doesn't smell horrible, I thought.

"Okay, on my mark," I say, tipping my head back. The Flock did the same, the containers poised at ready in front of their mouths. "One…. Two….. Three!"

I dumped the container into my mouth like a shot, gagging as the taste hit my tongue. Iggy and Angel spit theirs out, gulping down their water at record speed. Nudge visably vomited in her mouth, but swallowed anyways, sticking her tongue out repeatedly like a dog eating peanut butter. Gazzy's face twisted in disgust, but he swallowed anyways, shaking his head in quick jerks as he did.

"That was disgusting!" Nudge yells, swatting at her tongue with her hand.

"I dunno," Fang said thoughtfully. "I kind of liked it."

Seraph

Can an angel die?

For this exact question, I wish I had gone to church more than once in my life. I feel so stupid not knowing the answer, but I guess that's what I get for not paying attention when Jeb tried to tell us about God.

A religion would be nice.

It'd be some reconciliation that this won't be the end for me.

Feeling my chest rise and fall heavily, I locked eyes with Fang's as he fought valiantly a couple yards away. His eyes widened when he saw me, sprawled out across the ground, blood dripping out of my head faster than usual. I smiled at him, my eyelids feeling heavy as I saw him take off running towards me, his face frantic.

Yes, I thought sleepily, closing my eyes for the last time and letting that small smile rest on my face. Angels can die.

Toes

"Wow, your toes are creepy."

I gave Fang a questioning look as I looked from the movie to him, raising an eyebrow. He rubbed the arches of my foot from where it rested in his lap, my other foot swinging back and forth lazily off the edge of the couch. He gave me a small, astute smile.

"What? You've never thought about how creepy people's toes are before?" He asked, his hands creeping up my legs. I shook my head, biting my lip as his knee locked around my ankles, his hands sliding around my ribs and his chest pushing against mine. His face lowered so that out lips were inches from mine.

"No?" He said, his breath licking at my lips. I shivered as the cold breeze from outside the open get-away window caressed my bare legs, fluffing my hair in the wind. Fang slowly lowered his lips to mine, out eyes locked the whole time. "You've never thought that?"

"No," I murmured against his mouth, slowly wrapping my legs loosely around his thighs. I threaded my fingers contently in his hair. "I must say… most of the time my thoughts were occupied my something else."

"Really?" Fang grinned lazily, the corners of his lips twitching up against my cheeks. "And what would those thoughts be about?"

I grinned back at him, kissing his mouth quickly before bolting up, my feet launching his legs back as he flew (not literally) backwards against the wall.

"Don't get your hopes up, hot shot," I say, my lips brushing his as I walk into the kitchen. I tossed a grape into the air, catching it in my mouth as I told him, calling over my shoulder. "You just called my feet ugly."

Articulate

Not Fang.

Sabotage

"Ready?" I whispered, bringing my hand up over my head. Iggy nodded happily, drawing back his water balloon at aim as well. Fang and Max were still talking, oblivious to us standing on the roof, listening and ready to ruin their fun.

"Fire!" I yell-whispered, the balloons sailing through the air, splatting on Max and Fang, the flour that was inside of them turning Fang's clothes and hair into a mosaic from a paintball war. Iggy and I ran to our room, closing the door and laughing so hard we couldn't breathe. Looking around, I could feel my eyes getting as wide as saucers with shock.

"What?" Iggy whispered, sensing that something was distressing me. In the room there was… nothing. Not even carpet. Sitting alone, in the middle of the barren room, was a single note:

Gazzy and Iggy,

How dumb do you think we are?

Max and Fang

P.S. Good luck finding your furniture. ;)

So! How was it? Was it an okay "holy crap I'm sorry" present? I'll know if it's okay only if you review! SO TELL ME HOW I DID! Come on, guys!

Please?

Love you guys!

~Elsie