The first chapter is the main part of the story, chapters 2 and 3 are two possible outcomes. Either pick one and go with it, or read both and let me know which you prefer.

*Trigger Warning* Vague references to self-harm.

Every word they said cut me like a knife. I suppose as I asked for this, that makes it self inflicted… no worse than normal I suppose. And yet these wounds cut deeper than any blade I used. This feeling of questioning the relationships we build, just sitting here watching it crumble around me as I realise that they view themselves as a team, and me as an outsider.

Max sat on one long thin branch, Iggy and Fang sat near the trunk on another, facing out to her precarious perch. All these years of friendship, of family. She thought they were a team, that they would always have each other's backs. They went through so much together at the School that it bonded them in ways that no one else would ever understand. The time they spent living in the E house had truly forged a friendship and a team that was stronger than iron, and she had felt that she could always depend on them.

But Max was wrong.

There had been an unusual feeling amongst the flock, ever since they rescued Angel. There were murmurs and whispers in rooms and caves that stopped when she got near. The kids had started looking at her with doubt in their eyes - a doubt that had never, not once, been there before. When Angel was kidnapped it had shown that Max was not the fearless, flawless friend that she liked to pretend she was. She made mistake after mistake as she felt more scared and desperate to get Angel back. First leaving the kids and Iggy behind, then stopping for Ella, then letting Fang see her vulnerable… and the list went on. Once the whole flock was back together and they were safe and hidden away, that's when it really sunk in. She showed weakness - and that both made her more human and less useful to the Flock. The tension lay under the surface for a while, until Max just couldn't take any more.

She asked Fang if he wanted to go for a fly and a chat. She had always been able to depend on him to be honest yet supportive. A boy of few words, her second in command had been right next to her since they were children in neighbouring cages. Their friendship had grown since then, and he always had her back, as she had his. She knew if she asked for his help to work on the issues she could feel building lately then he could support her - help her hide the issues from the rest of the flock and process them internally.

For the first time ever… his answer was no. At that moment it was like the carpet was pulled out from under Max's feet. Her heart plummeted and she felt completely numb. The only solution was to leave - run - fly. So away she flew for a while. She swooped and soared like an eagle through the sky, picking up speed then slowing, flying up high around the clouds, diving down to the tips of the trees.

For the first time ever Max wished that she was crying, or at least holding back tears. She took deep breaths and tried to feel again, but nothing was working. For hours, she flew around and tried to think through everything she had done wrong. But it was no use - there were far too many things that it could have been, and every doubt, weakness, and anxiety she had was magnified and fixated on and she had no clue how to fix them.

So back she flew. Through the bright sky, over the pointed treetops and down into the clearing she had taken off from. Then she walked back - her boots making the leaves and twigs below her feet crunch and snap, every sound like a beacon to warn her family (were they a family any more?) that she was returning. When she was back, she marched up to Fang, who was chatting with Iggy. They looked at her - Fang's dark eyes were shielding his emotions even more than usual, but Iggy's pale cloudy blues were filled with sadness and determination. They started walking away from the fire and the kids - and Max knew she had to follow. They walked a while in silence, then picked a tree and jumped and climbed until they were settled on a branch, their backs to the trunk, their shoulders touching.

Max followed, as she had been doing for the ten minutes prior. She perched near the end of the branch, where it tapered and thinned, with her long legs dangling and feet swinging below. She asked them to tell her what was wrong - what they thought she needed to fix. What issues there were with her, with their friendship, with them as a family. And it all rooted back to her - she was to blame.

I hold back the tears - I laugh and joke and keep it open. It's so much easier to have shit in the open. It's like sand in water - when it's there but not being addressed it just clogs your vision, but once it's filtered and separated you can see the wildlife that was worth saving… the question is, is there anything worth saving here anymore? Do I see life?