(A/N): 'Eh guys. It's me again. I know, it's a surprise. I wasn't planning on making this story, but…it came to me. And I just had to do it. (: Please remember to always read my A/N's, because they're always pretty important.

I decided to do what I'm apparently fairly good at: writing my interpretation of Maximum Ride books.

This one will be my best story yet. I promise it'll be 47693076923052 times better than The Sky Is Falling. Promise.

I know you're probably all tired of seeing versions of ANGEL on the list of stories, and I'm not saying mine will be the best ('cause it totally won't be), but I am saying that you won't be disappointed.

Though there probably will be parts in this story where you'll hate me. (Can we all say 'foreshadowing'? (: )

Also, keep in mind that this story is not linked to my other fanfictions whatsoever. Forget they even happened. This is what you're paying attention to. Not the insanity that happened in Mind Over Matter, or the pathetic stuff I called a story in The Sky Is Falling, because we all know it was pretty much crap. But hey, it was my first one. It's supposed to be. ;)

So, enjoy! And remember. Reviews are epic.

I used to think you knew me so well. But now, a month after you've left, I realized that I don't think you really do.

Because you thought leaving would change things—you thought leaving would make things better. You thought leaving would make me better. Yet I'm the worst I've ever been about anything. Which is saying something.

You also thought I could forgive you for doing this to me. And so now we have to face the fact that you didn't know me as well as we all thought you did.

You did this to all of us—and it's worse now, because some days I can't even drag myself out of my room without bursting out crying at one point in the day from the smallest thing that reminds me of you. You said this would help the flock—it hasn't. I cannot tell you that enough.

I'm no leader anymore. I'm no warrior. I'm no comforting 'mother'.

The good news: I will never ask you to come back, because I never want to see you again. So you won't have to worry about me asking, and then you having to come back because you "can't say no" to me, and then leaving again.

Twenty years won't change that feeling. I know it won't. I won't let it. And I'm nothing if not stubborn.

The thing is, Fang, I love you too. And that hurts me so much. Because I don't think I should. No matter how hard I try to not love you, I do. It's the one thing in life I've never been able to defeat.

Not to mention, I now have to deal with Angel by myself—who's getting worse, by the way. She does things now just to make me cry or yell or end up back in my room so that this whole cycle can start again.

I don't know what kind of joke you attempted to make when you left your shit on the computer, but it hurt. Just when the pain had subsided to absolute, satisfying rage, I saw your file. And the wounds opened up again. And had freaking salt added to them.

How can you know me so well, and yet not know me at the same time?

How can you be somewhere else, doing something that you think is going to help, when I'm practically brain dead and couldn't go anywhere else if I wanted to?

How can you be so Fang?

And now I was crying again.

Crumpling up the paper, I threw it in the general direction of the wastebasket and covered my face in my hands.

It felt good, and bad, to write that letter. I did it every day. I never expected to send it. I just had nothing else to do. I had no one else to confide in except for a piece of paper. I spent most of my days in my room, no longer caring about taking care of the kids. They didn't even respect me as a leader anymore.

Because the only person I had ever confided to before was the person that was the reason I even needed to confide in anyone.

Life sucks.

Suddenly, I heard Nudge scream from downstairs.

Aw, crap.

I took the stairs three at a time, and ran into the kitchen…

Which looked like a huge, pink, strawberry tornado had touched down.

Sticky pink stuff was everywhere, dripping off the counter, dripping off the ceiling, and finally, dripping off Nudge, Iggy, and Gazzy.

"What. Happened?" I demanded.

"Iggy was trying to make smoothies…" Gazzy started sheepishly.

"But they forgot to put the lid on the blender!" Nudge shrieked, angry and hysterical. "And I just walked in, minding my own business, and then they were like, 'Nudge, want a smoothie?' and before I could even say anything they turned it on and it went everywhere and I am totally innocent no matter what they—"

Interrupting is the only way to get Nudge to stop talking, so that's what I did. "Nudge. It's fine." I sighed. "Just…clean it up."

Usually, if someone told me a blind guy (Iggy) had forgotten to put the lid on the blender, I would have said, "why the hell are you letting him near any cooking appliances?" But Iggy's different. Despite his blindness, he's the best cook (like, ever) and he can find his way around like the best of us. Plus, he can feel colors. And see when everything's completely white. Needless to say, he's not any more handicapped than I am. But since I'm wallowing in self-pity and can't get through one day without crying hysterically, maybe I'm not the best comparison.

"Look who finally crawled out of their room," A voice behind me said.

I closed my eyes, clenched my fists, and turned to Angel.

She smiled at me characteristically, but I had learned to see through that smile. "Jeb called. He said he's dropping Dylan off tonight."

My heart fluttered a little, but I couldn't and wouldn't identify why.

I thought we'd be done with him after he stabbed himself with that needle.

Then reality set in, as it always does.

"Tonight?" I asked.

Angel rolled her eyes and looked at me like I was mentally challenged. "That's what I said."

The doorbell rang.

I attempted to beat Angel to the door without making it look like I was trying to beat her to it.

I swung it open before I remembered who I was opening it for, which ruined my moment of accomplishment.

"Jeb. Dylan." My greeting was far from warm. Sure, Jeb had taken a bullet for me, but I was still iffy about the man. He did ditch us to go work again for the scientists that grafted avian DNA into my flock and me.

Dylan smiled at me, causing my heart to beat erratically again, no matter how much I tried to stop it. I didn't feel that way for him. I just…was not used to having human contact, seeing as I'd been holed up in my room for a while. Yeah, that was it.

"Come in," I said reluctantly.

"Well, I just came to drop off Dylan. But…could I speak to you for a moment, Max?"

Normally, my response would be, 'No. Now go get hit by a bus/die in a hole/get eaten alive by maggots'. But like I said, since the man jumped in front of a bullet for us, I'm trying to be a little more patient and forgiving with the guy.

But just a little.

So, anyway, I nodded reluctantly and stepped out onto the porch with him.

"Max, I know you're upset about Fang, but please just give Dylan a chance. All he talks about is you. And you and I both know that he's your perfect match."

I glowered at him, despite the feeling that came with someone saying Fang's name. Keeping tears at bay, I snapped, "Is that all?"

"Well…no. I also was told to bring you these."

And Jeb pulled out that jar with the human eyeballs in it.

The one meant for Iggy.

The one that I had wanted so badly to give him, but just couldn't do it.

The one that was very obviously an intended bribe.

(A/N 2): You know me. I always start with a big bang. But this is far from where the action starts. If you want to (read: please do), then review and tell me what you think!