Summary: I didn't want to leave him, but I could do nothing. I mean, really. I was seven. I came back though, as promised, but I never expected him to have changed too. Nick Walker, the sweetest, cutest boy ever, was now Fang, the cold, emotionless rock. Could I fix that? Of course I could. I could even fall in love with him.

ALL HUMAN! R&R!

Disclaimer: I don't own Maximum Ride.

~∞ When I Come Back ∞~

By DreamingBeyond

~Chapter One~

I bit my lip as Nick ran out of the forest with a pile of mud. It wasn't the black mud he carried in his chubby hand that worried me; it was his reaction when I finished telling him I was leaving today, on his and Iggy's 8th birthday.

"Maxie!" he yelled, beckoning me over to him with his shiny onyx eyes. I forced a smile as we edged closer toward each other. "Look what I have here!"

I looked closely and saw a long, thick worm inside his pile of nasty poopy stuff. On a normal basis, I would touch it, and we would observe it like there were no tomorrow. But obviously it isn't a normal basis. This time, there reallywas no tomorrow. I kept a safe distance.

He looked at me oddly, noticing my cautiousness. "You don't want it?"

I shook my head. You have less than five minutes, I reminded myself unwillingly.

"Nick, I'm leaving," I murmured. I bit the inside of my cheek, watching him closely.

He stared at me for a moment, and then shrugged, ready to drop the dirt. I opened my mouth again. "I'm leaving to Florida," I finished, looking down. I couldn't stop the tears from rolling down my cheeks.

He was frozen though, still staring at me, wondering if I were joking or not.

"That's not funny," he decided, dropping the mud.

"That's because it isn't supposed to be," I insisted, rubbing my eyes. I shouldn't cry.

He shook his head. "Stop lying. It's not funny."

"I'm not lying, Nick! I'm leaving right now. And I'll miss you," I added quickly, wiping my face with my arm.

"Stop," he pleaded. "Stop saying that! Let's go home, I don't want to play in the forest anymore, Maxie. Come on!" he said, his voice rising higher as he tugged my wrist. But I stayed put.

"But I really have to go. That's what Mommy said," I wiped my face again. I should leave. Get it over with.

So I ran away.

He ran after me. He tackled me, so we were both sprawled on the forest floor. We stayed there in silence for a moment.

"When are you coming back?" he asked finally, his bottom lip quivering. I took a deep breath, sitting up and brushing some leaves off my muddy shorts. "I don't know . . . but I have to get ready," I finished, my voice cracking.

He was full blown crying now. "How long did you know?" he asked through tears.

"Two weeks," I answered in defeat. "Does everyone else know?" he asked, just as broken as I felt. I looked at him in the eye. And I knew that I couldn't lie about this. "Y-yes," I choked out. He forced himself to stop crying. He stood up quickly.

"Where are you going?" I asked desperately.

He didn't turn around. He didn't look at me. He just kept going.

"Away from you!" he yelled back. He began to run.

"Nick, I'm sorry!" I cried out to him.

But I had to go. I had to finish everything before I left.

So I did the last thing I wanted to do. I got up and ran back to my house.

"Honey," Mom began quietly as I walked through the worn out dull blue door. I was angry at her of course for making me leave my friends and my home here in Arizona, but I was horribly, horribly broken.

"Mommy," I whispered, running into her open arms. She pulled me close to her, cradling my skinny little figure in her arms.

"It's all okay, Maxie, we might come back, honey," she said comfortingly, kissing my forehead. I shook my head. "How about we come back tomorrow?" I suggested weakly. I couldn't even smile.

"No, baby," she sighed, kissing me again. It only made me cry more. "You're so brave, though, baby. You can handle anything. Huh, Maxie? You're only seven and you can handle your problems like a big girl," she said, squishing me in her arms.

I squirmed. I wasn't acting like a big girl. I was crying like a baby and I told Nick about my moving so late, because I was so scared of what would happen.

"Oh my goodness, Mommy, I forgot!" I gasped, jumping out of her arms and running to the kitchen table.

Resting on the table was a nice neon green box shaped like a binder. I opened it carefully and saw the necklace with a fang on it. Nick's mom, Anne, never let him collect items like this. I kissed the fang and put it back in the felt of the box. I taped a few pictures of us in it. The one where we were hugging at age four; the one where we played with Nick's now three year old sister, Angel; the one where Iggy, Nick and I were dancing in a circle; the one where Iggy and Nick's new adopted sister Nudge, Iggy and Nick all watched me flip like crazy; the one where the six of us—Angel, Angel's twin Gazzy, Iggy, Nick, Nudge and I all swam in the 2 ft. tall pool. And then came all the pictures with one of each of them; Iggy and I, Nudge and I, Gazzy and I, Angel and I, Nick and I.

Tears streaming down my face, I ran to my room quietly. My mom just stood at the doorway of the house, waiting. Why did she want to leave?

I got the small bomb I always hid in the hole of my closet, running back to the kitchen to put it into the felt binder-like box.

Mom walked me to their house, where it was silent. I placed the box on the doorstep, and after ringing the bell three times, I dashed toward my house, tugging Mom with me.

Mom sighed but obeyed quietly. I bit my lip again once we reached our car. "In you go, baby," she whispered, helping me in. "Daddy's waiting at the airport in Florida."

I smiled. She always said 'Daddy' instead of 'Jeb' so it would rub off on me. Which was nowhere near close to what I'm calling him—Ugly. The thing was, he was nothing close to ugly. He could be an Abercrombie model in his 30's.

But even thinking about my dad didn't make me feel better. It just made me feel worst. I get Ugly back, but I leave my best friends.

I cried. I sobbed. I yelled.

"Mommy I don't want to leave!" I repeated.

I wailed. I even kicked her chair. But it just wasn't working.

"No, baby, we have to go. We can get a bigger house, and you can make new friends. I know it's hard, baby, but we have to go," she said again quietly.

"But they're my best friends! This is my home!" I whined, hugging my knees to my chest. I knew arguing wouldn't win me anything but a frustrated mother who lectures me till 2020.

Honestly, I looked forward to third grade, I looked forward to meeting new people, I looked forward to playing sports and P.E., but I looked forward to doing that all here.

My eyes scanned the outside of the tinted window, seeing the blurry buildings and the green trees. Bye, I thought quietly.

Nine years later, I did come back to him.

But honest to God, I wasn't the same . . . and neither was he.

Author's Note:

This story is for Noah, one of my best friends, who has a really dramatic love life that I'm craved to watch. O.O

Well, anyone want to review? Please do! Do you like it, hate it, want to poop on it, or want to keep reading it? Instructive criticism is welcomed . . . SURSLEH! :D And remember:

Flames are for marshmallows. Does ANYONE read it like this: 'Marsh – Mahl – Ohs' ? I can't seriously be the only one . . . ):

Just so you know, for my other story, and this too, I spell 'hot' like this: 'hott' . I just like it better.

So review. I swear to you, virtual desserts for all! Please? ):

And a thousand thank you's for all those who followed, favorite-d, reviewed my other story, 'Trusting,' which was co-written by Zaria, ArieZINGhearts. So if you haven't already, please read it! It's dramatic, with all the deaths and all. And it's sad. And happy. It makes sense, I'm serious. If you read it. Heheheh. :3

Anyway, keep dreaming beyond, lovelies. (:

-Veronica Marie