The Last Flight (A Maximum Ride fanfiction)

TLF Chapter.5

Me: Hey guyz, new chap. here:D

Angel: All go forth JP, Right Sylvia *smilling innocently* (You B*****)

Me: Yep, and I can read your thought too Ang.

Angel: *Blush*

Me: Enjoy guy and gal, vote and comment k'

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5

He stared at her for a minute before he spoke. "What are you talking about, I don't have any abilities. I wish I did."

"Then how did I know you were hurt? I was fast asleep and you were in the woods ... I woke up and I knew you were hurt. I could feel it."

"That sounds like YOU have a new ability, not me. You can spy on me in your sleep."

She shook her head.

"If I could communicate with you like that why couldn't I tell you what was going on when I woke up back there? Why couldn't I tell you I was so freaking scared that I'd open my eyes and you guys would be whitecoats trying to cut my wings off!" His voice had lowered to a mere whisper.

Max blinked. He was right. If he'd been the one controlling the ability she would have been able to feel that fear, she could see that now. But ... If SHE had been the one doing it, why hadn't she been able to calm him down?

"It wasn't me ... So, what was it?"

"Beats me..." He yawned. "I'm really tired, Max ... You can stay if you want, but I need sleep, you said so yourself."

She nodded and placed a hand between his wings, stroking the soft, dark feathers and trying not to move the bandage her mother had spent nearly ten minutes affixing to his wing and shoulder.

He was staring up at her slightly confused but not protesting. "You're going to stay?"

"Do you want me to leave?"

"No." He breathed, before he even knew what he was doing.

She blinked twice and stood, pulling over his desk chair to sit in and propping her feet on the edge of his bed. "I thought you said you were tired."

He closed his eyes but cracked them open to slits so he could watch her as he fell asleep.

Having an injured wing had its advantages he realized the next day. Though he could barely remember WHY his wing was injured. In fact, he was having trouble remembering anything that had happened the night before. He blamed that on the concussion. But the advantages were still there. Max was behaving civilly, nobody said anything when he showed up to Saturday lunch shirtless and Angel even let him win at checkers, although, when playing against Angel, winning was impossible unless she let you.

But, one of the problems that he found even more annoying than the pain and not being able to fly was that Dr. Martinez and Max were constantly hovering over him, so that meant he couldn't go to the post office.

He hadn't let anyone know about the post office. Which was hard to do because he had been going every day for the past three weeks and keeping a secret that involved you flying into town every day after school was harder than it sounds. Especially when you lived with a talking dog, and five other winged people, one of which was a mind reader.

At two-forty five that afternoon he was becoming irritated, pacing around his room cursing himself for not staying inside the night before and cursing his cautious nature for not having all his mail sent directly to the Martinez house but instead sent C/O the postmaster.