This is going to be a string of oneshots that I create. Sorry to start this out with something a little depressing, I just had this idea awhile ago and I was already writing this oneshot. All stories could be human or mutant; you'll be able to tell which.

Disclaimer: I do not own Maximum Ride.

World: Human

"What is he, emo?"

"I don't blame him. Did you here…?"

"….the fire destroyed his house…"

"Both his parents are dead."

Fang brushed past them all, not flinching under the stares that the others gave him. People shrunk out of his way, letting him pass with scared looks.

Red hot flames licked at the front door. Smoke rose in puffs, showing signs that the roof was burning; in seconds the left half of it collapsed.

Gossip flew through the cliques, some so ridiculous he could actually laugh, while others hurt him more then ever. How they knew, he had no idea. A member of his grandmother's knitting circle? A chatty fireman? All he knew was he had wanted to leave this all behind in Nevada.

His younger sister shivered in the night despite the giant barbeque in front of them. Both siblings faces' glowed with the embers of the dying fire, showing off burns and ash on their faces. Helplessly, they watched the house they had grown up in crumble to the ground. Fang watched the firemen's futile attempts to gain access to the house in silence; all he could think of was his parents trapped in that burning house, afraid. What had seemed strongest to him was now lost.

"He started the fire…."

"….aliens…."

"…arsonist…."

He had only had time to save his sister in her own cage of fire. The smoke had been getting to his head and all he could think was save her, get out, get out, getoutGETOUT! It was only instinct to escape the heat and ash. But he had left his parents in there to die, though it was not intentional.

Nobody had -still-cared. It felt like he was still in the hospital and his life support was just cut. His parents had always been there for him, and at their greatest time of need he couldn't be there for them. Why did it have to hurt so much? He'd rather have no feeling, not this.

Loneliness. Guilt. Sadness.

Nobody understood the pain, and yet they all tried. I suppose it was meant to make him feel better, but all they did was pretend they could grasp the depth of suffering he felt. But why try to get what twisted thoughts were in his head? It made no sense.

The crowds parted for him as he made his way towards the lunch room. Thankfully, because the town was so small, all grades were in the same school, and his sister, a 2nd grader, had lunch the same time as sophomores. They were supposed to sit on opposite ends of the room, but their "special case" was the exception to that rule.

A long line of hungry kids winded its way through the lunch tables. Ignoring the stares, he took his spot at the line. Slowly, he made his way up the counter where an assortment of unidentifiable foods sat, bubbling in pots or sitting in a couple of mini fridges.

"I wouldn't get the meatloaf," a voice called out from in front of him. He whipped around to face a girl around his age smirking. She had long, wavy dirty blond hair, soft brown eyes, and a fragile look about her. She only proved that she was not a china doll when she glared fearsly at the guy checking her out from behind the counter. "Anyway," she said, turning back to him, "the sandwiches are usually edible, but next time I would pack. The last kid who ate the meatloaf ended up sick for a week." With that, she grabbed a soda and moved her tray down to grab a cookie, leaving Fang breathless. Everyone else seemed confused at the exchange between student and new kid. Teens around him peeked curiously at him before revolving back to their friends to discuss this latest development.

"Dude," the guy behind the counter snapped out. He glared at Fang with annoyance. "Are you going to get something or not?"

Nodding slowly, Fang grabbed a turkey sandwich and pepsi before heading down to pay the cashier. The woman at the cash register gave him a sad smile before handing back the change and moving on to the next customer.

Now came the hard part; seating. He figured he would track down Angel and find an empty table to sit at. He glanced around, trying to track down the familiar mess of bright blond curls. Suddenly, a hand fell down on his shoulder and he immediately tensed up.

"Hey new kid," a familiar voice spoke. He turned around to the girl from before, feeling bad when he saw a hint of unease at his stiff figure. "Do you want to come sit with us?" She gestured to a table a few spots down. There we two boys, on who looked his age and the other slightly older than Angel; two girls, one African American with curly brown hair, another with long straight auburn hair; and one certain angelic little girl with curly blond hair. Not waiting for an answer, she grabbed his hand and started pulling him towards the table, her own tray balanced precariously in one hand.

When he came into view, the older boy with a shock of bleach blond hair and cloudy blue hair smirked at the sound of the girl's presense. "Adopt another straggler, Max?" he joked. "Shut up, Iggy," she said good naturedly, slapping him teasingly on the back of his head.

"Fang!" Angel squealed, jumping up to hug me. "This boy's really funny," she chirped, pointing at the younger boy and giggling.

"Hey Angel," I replied quietly.

"Fang, ay?" The girl, Max, said questioningly; she looked at my black clothes and long dark brown hair. "Suits you."

"Um, thanks…?" I said, slightly confused. Why were they all being so nice? Didn't they think I was going to go crazy on them or something?

"Come sit by me!" Angel said happily. She dragged me over to a plastic chair beside a pink lunch box; Max sat in front of me beside Iggy.

"So," Max trailed off, "we just invited Angel over after school. You want to come?"

I looked down at Angel's hopeful face and sighed. "Sure."

Everyone started up with a game of 20 Questions for the new kids. Angel, knowing I didn't like to talk and just being the perky girl she was, answered most of them. I was fine with it; looking around at all the grinning faces was just enough to make me believe things could get better.