I've missed Iggy. Actually the flock has left my mind so it's hard for me to pin their characters and voices in my head. I'm reading Maximum Ride: The Angel Experiment again to remember and I remember Iggy. I remember Max and Fang but not as much as I remember Iggy. I have Iggy back, his voice is loud, clear, and oh so boisterous! ha ha, I've missed Iggy. It's like the side of you that you've been missing is suddenly beside you again, it's fun. It's a concept, right?

Chapter 9

I’m a little tired, my wings are itching to fly. The flock hasn’t flown in weeks due to this bird flu going around. It’s not the real one, don’t get me wrong, but it’s a nasty bug. Max has it right now with Angel, they sound like they’re coughing up lungs. It’s gruesome ‘cause, you know, it takes a lot for us to get sick.

Nudge caught this mess three weeks ago and passed it onto me five days later, it got to Gasman and now Angel and Max. But, you know, Fang hasn’t caught it and we doubt he ever will, the jerk. It makes you wonder what keeps dark and gloomy ticking, he hardly needs sunlight, feed him twice a week, make sure he has plenty of water, boy he’s a cross between a plant and snake! I’m kidding, a little avian humor for ya. He might as well be a plant he doesn’t move from Max’s side it’s almost like he’s planted there. Ha, get it? But I guess that’s whatcha get for being in love with a girl.

“Iggy it’s cold outside, close the door.” Fang’s voice seemed to echo as I stood out on the porch. Max and Angel had just fallen into a fitful sleep and faithful Fang decided to find me. Joy.

“Are you staying in or out?” I asked, not really caring. It was obvious he wanted to talk, which is strange in itself, but if he wanted to talk he’d have to come outside.

“This isn’t good for you, you just got over the flu.” Fang chided quietly closing the door behind him and standing beside me on the porch. He was shivering slightly making his movements less graceful and less quiet, he must’ve forgotten to wear a jacket.

“It doesn’t matter.” I shrugged, regretting it instantly. My wings ached, wanting to stretch out and fly into the night I couldn’t see. “Don’t become dear old Dad just ‘cause Mommy has a flu of her own.” I bit my lip, that came out a lot harsher than I meant…

“Dear old Dad? You must be sick.” Fang croaked. Fang’s never croaked before. Maybe he’s the one who’s sick… “Would you like to go for a flight?”

“We’re both on duty, Fang, you watch the sick kids, I watch for danger. ‘This is not a time and a place for fun’ as Max would say.”

“You and I both know this is the most rest we’ve gotten in the past three weeks. You fighting off the flu, you cooking food for the flock, being on watch, helping Gasman when he was sick…”

“While you’ve been making sure we haven’t been discovered by the White Coats, wherever they are, you’re finding food for the flock, when I’m not on watch you’re on watch, and when you’re not on watch you’re doing all those things and more… We deserve a break.”

“But we can’t.” His monotone voice sounded strangled towards the end.

“And there you go saying we should have the time of our lives and turn around and say we can’t.” I smiled grimly at him. He shifted his weight before sitting at the edge of the porch, I followed the suit.

“What do we do?” Fang asked me. Wait, Fang asking me what to do? Doesn’t he usually have all the answers? Isn’t it Max who asks him that?

“Take it a day at a time.” I responded before my mind could think.

“Impossible.” Fang laughed quietly. I could imagine the bags around his eyes, they should be bigger than usual, he should be as high strung as I am, and nervous to boot. I mean he’s paranoid Fang, he’s never exactly had a relaxing moment… There was a faint whooshing sound, Fang had thrown his head back to look at the sky.

“Improbable.” I corrected just as quietly. “Oftentimes we have a set goal to do for that day and we don’t often get through it because the whole flock goes into instinct mode ‘survive’. And in a way that’s how we take it a day at a time, if we can survive this day we can survive the next and who knows, maybe we can add something to our plate for that day…”

“Like saving the world, battling Erasers, dodging bullets, near suicides, etc.?”

“Don’t sound too much like Max, Fang, you might just turn into her.” I chuckled. “We need to take it a day a time, today might not be our day, tomorrow might not be either, but what happened yesterday is yesterday and what will happen tomorrow is the future all we have and all we can do is today and before you know it, it’ll be our day again.”

“I don’t pick you for the philosophical type.”

“I’m not.” I grinned. “I heard it in a song.” I heard the front door open, so he was back to normal… Fang, the teen who made no sound…

“Get some rest,” his quiet voice drifted out to me, “tomorrow we’ll go flying.” My wings perked at the word.

“Because he knows tomorrow will be our day.” I muttered to myself with a smile. He couldn’t know but then again, he’s Fang.

And guess what?

Max and Angel were both well enough to move locations that morning.

Looks like we’re going flying after all.

It's like an interlude of sorts, a calming yet mildly stressful moment in Iggy's life.

Adieu
Nightwing