Sorry! I said Saturdays. I don't know if any of you have checked out my profile but I have the posting schedules. While I'll try to on Saturday, chances are it'll be on Sundays now. :)

Thanks for all the reviews! Kudos to my beta: KF!

You're not an idiot. You know that if I were JP I wouldn't be near fanfiction. 'nuff said.

Final chapter!

One year later…

For the longest time, I thought I would go into a very serious depression (really depressed), but The Flock saved me – or, rather, bullied me out of mellowness. They showed just the right amount of sympathy love and just the right amount of tough love to get me through. As it was, I managed to balance waveringly on depressed and normal. After a year, I finally found my new version of normal.

Pizta and Gracie were practically glued to my side after I woke up. They now lived with Mom, Ella, the Flock and me, making us one huge family. (Rhyme unintentional, I swear.) I'd lost my wings because of Pizta, and some part of me should've hated him, but I didn't. I loved Pizta and Gracie almost as much as the Flock. At first, the Flock wouldn't fly at all, or even say the word 'wings' or 'fly' around me. But I told them that I wanted them to fly. It was like flying myself, watching them. All I could do sometimes was be thankful they were alive at all. Focusing on that made it easy to forget the loss of my wings.

But I could only go so long acting 'normal.' It was on the first day of spring that I began to feel despondency creep up on me.

Because I got out of bed and looked out the window, and my first thought, even after a year of no wings, was what perfect weather it was to go for a fly.

And I just couldn't do it. I couldn't be strong. My "normal" was thin and threadbare – I held myself together by a fine thread. And as I stood in front of my bathroom mirror, I felt it more intensely then before. I was incomplete; half of a whole. No wings. My bones were still light and made for flight, but I had no wings. And because of that, I almost cried.

Almost. But I'm the incredible Maximum Ride, and even without the wings, I was still the leader of the Flock. I was still indescribably (I liked to think) strong. Yup, I was about due for a mental pep talk.

So what if you can't fly, I told myself firmly, staring into my brown eyes, which I admit was slightly freaking me out. You're still super human strong. And can still kick butt like nobody's business. My lips twitched. Even Fang's.

But my smile faced quickly, my eyes in the mirror guarded and reflecting… brokenness. Who was I trying to fool?

I shook myself out of my trance, trying to throw off my self-pity, and went downstairs for breakfast as if not having wings, as if not missing a part of me, was bothering me at all in particular today. Perfect weather to go for a fly.

"Morning, Max!" Angel chirped, getting up from the table to hug me. She looked up at me with big blue eyes. Are you okay, Max?

Fine, Angel, just feeling a bit down. Get out of my head. I bit my lip immediately after. Why did I tell her that? I wondered. They don't need to worry about me!

You'd think you'd get used to having a mind reader around, but no…

Max, of course we worry about you! People worry about the ones they love. Are you ok, Max?

I'd be better if you got out of my head, Angel. OUT. I like my privacy.

Angel nodded and smiled sweetly at me before going back to the table to finish drawing.

The old Max is back! she thought happily to me. I smiled weakly at her and slammed down mental blocks so she wouldn't hear my depressing thoughts.

I slid into the seat across from her and numbed my mind, watching Angel draw.

A few minutes later, Iggy stumbled in and started up breakfast without a word. The rest of the Flock, Pizta, Ella and Gracie included, all tripped in soon after, drawn by the nose. They sat around the table yawning, the sound of bacon sizzling filling the air. Iggy took the last seat when he came back to the table with a plate of food. I guessed Mom was at the vet's today.

"Don't just sit there. Eat!" Iggy said, annoyed. He didn't see that they'd been staring at the food, drooling. The Flock dove in and I just watched, picking at my food from time to time. They were happy, and that was all that mattered. I could feel tears stinging my eyes, watching them. I quickly looked at my food. They're – we're free, so why am I feeling so depressed? Why aren't I happy? The loss of wings is worth this.

My lips twisted into a frown, and I looked at the piece of toast I was shredding with unseeing eyes.

My neck prickled and I looked up quickly. I froze, seeing Fang watching me. My stomach erupted into butterflies, and I could feel myself turning red, thoughts turning abruptly away from not being able to fly. He watched me with dark eyes, an unnamable emotion in them, before they smoothed over and become emotionless again.

Fang gave me a small smile that lifted me easily for a moment out of my rut. I was finding it abruptly very hard to breathe.

I blinked at him and looked away, wondering vaguely why I was feeling so warm all of a sudden. My thoughts weren't all that sisterly either, just… This was freaking ridiculous.

I glanced at him again, and my breath caught in my throat, making it impossible to breathe as our eyes met again. What is wrong with me? He's like a brother! I screamed to myself. But I couldn't tear my eyes away.

Feeling like Fang was not close enough, and not far enough away at the same time, I shoved back my chair and muttered, "I'll be outside," before taking off out the door, fleeing from my feelings. I was so good at doing that. The thought was bitter.

I was just… PMSing. (Yeah, right.) And my wings being gone was making me more miserable then usual. That's what was up with my jumbled emotions. Just a fluke.

But I'd been feeling like that towards him more and more the past year. He'd held me together after I lost my wings, kept me from shattering, showed me it was worth it to live. Once he even told me not to be selfish, that suicide wasn't the answer. I hated him saying that, so bluntly, but it was what I needed. He always knew what I needed, and I hated to admit that he knew me so well.

How can one comprehend losing something like wings? It's like losing your arms. You just couldn't function properly for a while, maybe ever.

That's why my emotions were being so weird when it came to Fang. Stupid wings.

You love him, Max.

I flushed, and stiffened against the tree I was leaning on a little away from the house.

Angel, OUT.

Feeling like I could outrun my problems if I just ran far enough, I darted through the woods with no destination in mind. I only wanted to run from everything. I could be cowardly now that the bad guys were gone, right?

But I couldn't get away from emotions. They were part of me.

My back itched to use the wings I didn't have.

My mask broke and, before I realized it, I was crying, the invincible Maximum Ride gone, leaving only Max.

Why did I have to lose my wings?

I burst out of the woods and fell to the ground at the edge of the top of a steep hill, sobbing into the grass. My hands grasped at the dirt, digging nails deep into the soil.

It isn't fair! It isn't fair!

I saved every future child from the chance of becoming an experiment, and this is what I get?

It's not fair.

"Max?" Fang's sotto voice filtered through the fog in my mind, and my muscles were suddenly taut. Flight or fight instinct kicked in but I couldn't get my feet to move. I couldn't do anything right anymore. Useless.

I wiped my tears away hastily, leaving dirt tracks on my checks. I don't look up. "What?"

He knew me too well. He knew why I was crying, he knew my doubts… and he also asked a question that blatantly ignored the elephant in the room. "Do you trust me?"

I was surprised enough to stop crying. Why was Fang going on about?

"With my life. Duh, nimrod." My voice sounded horrible, but you could still hear the sarcasm.

Hold it together. Don't break again.

Fang and I stared at each other. Neither of us said a word and I couldn't break away from his gaze.

But finally he took my hand and pulled me up, wrapping both arms around my waist before I could react. Then, before I could say "Wha'?" he jumped from the edge of the steep hill, and unfurled his wings.

For a moment, time seemed to still as I stared at Fang – my arms wrapped around his neck, his arms around my waist, our bodies flush together. (Oh, my gosh. Was he that fit? Where had I been?) The wind rushed through his black hair as we fell a moment off the edge, before he surged upward on an updraft.

He looked at me, and gave me a small smile. For the first time in a year, I gave an unrestrained grin and a whoop of joy, right in his ear. I couldn't help it. I began to laugh, the feeling that comes with flying coming back. Wind, freedom, joy.

Fang was silent, of course, but I could see a smile peaking out on the corner of his lips again. He didn't look at me, just ahead, watching where he flew.

I grinned at Fang wordlessly, our connection thrumming. Our faces where close since he didn't want to drop me.

How nice of him, I thought giddily.

I felt my checks redden and the feeling I got at breakfast was more acute. I abruptly looked away, scared at the strange feeling. I felt so safe with him. Restless, but refreshed - I could run a marathon on the exhilaration I was feeling just then. The feeling scared me, confused me, but I knew I couldn't fly away this time. I wasn't sure if I was more scared or resigned anymore. I tried to watch the world below as we flew, but my eyes kept thoughtfully going back to Fang's strong features.

I studied his strong profile, the face I knew so well. He turned his head to look at me again and our eyes meet. I stuck my tongue out at him and looked away, hyper aware that he was still close to me.

Fang is my wings. It was an odd thought. But true. Right-hand man. Wing man. Best friend (more?). Was there anything he didn't do for me?

We landed on a sunny hill, farther from mom's house then I'd ever been. Like having sea legs, I had to sit down on the edge quickly. I felt awkward and couldn't look at him.

Fang sat down next to me quietly and didn't say a word. His wing was just touching my back, comforting in a way I couldn't explain. I pulled my knees up to my chest and rested my chin on them, concentrated on the view below me. But my mind was focused on anything but the stunning view.

Always there for me, always saving me from myself, always understanding.

What would I have done without my right hand man a few minutes ago? Would I have jumped off the edge of the cliff-like hill? What would I do without him period? He was my rock… I mentally sighed.

Jeez. I was pathetic for someone named "Maximum Ride," right?

What would I do without him?

I shook my head slightly and looked at him out of the corner of my eye.

At the change in my expression, Fang picked up my hand and rubbed circles on it with his thumb. He waited for me to speak, knowing I was trying to sort my thoughts. He knew me so well.

"Thank you, Fang," I said finally. "For everything. I think I…"

There was one explanation for this. For what I'd been feeling. Too bad I couldn't soar away from it this time…

I looked at him for a moment, studying the face I knew so well. It was more familiar then my own.

Could I do this? I steeled myself. Yes. I could. I was Maximum Ride, with or without my wings.

"Fang."

At his name, he looked at me, expressionless. His tan skin looked good in the sunlight.

My words were a bit strangled, but I had to get them out. "Fang, I – "

He kissed me.

Like I said. He knew me well.

I wrote SY a year or two before actually joining fanfiction, which is why it was deleted a while ago. My writing has changed a lot and so has my genre preferences. SY you has since been reworked/edited by my beta (Kissy Fishy) and myself, which is the only reason you're seeing this right now.

I feel like I should have a big warning slapped on it saying, "WARNING: CLICHE ENDING. FLUFF ABOUNDS. TURN BACK IF YOU DON'T WANT CAVITIES." The ending is definitely not how I would've ended it today. But I hope you liked it! On to more "me" fanfictions...

all my platonic and non-creepy love,

SS