Chapter Text
"What were you three thinking?" Jon hissed upon entry to the house; Arya, Bran, and Rickon all ducking their heads at his disappointed voice. Ygritte skipped ahead of the group and flung herself on the couch in the living room, ready to watch the scene unfold from a far and safe distance. If there was one thing the Starks could all agree on was Ygritte was greedy for drama. (Half of them thought that was why Ygritte stayed with Jon for so long…okay, only Theon really thought that, but the point was one that none could really dispute. Ygritte loved the Stark drama and boy was there plenty of it even before Bran’s feathery surprise.)
"Upstairs. Now," Robb barked in a deceptively emotionless voice, sending Theon a meaningful glance to the couch beside Ygritte, aka code for: Babe, I got to adult right now and I know you aren't going to take it seriously so sit this one out and play with Ygritte for a bit.
Theon joined her, bowl of candy still in his arms as they high-fived and watched the Starks trek up the stairs. Bran could hear the two talk about movies and Bran wished he could do that too instead of the scolding he was about to get.
Rickon was up the stairs first, taking his sweet old time in doing so, causing a backup on the steps. Arya had to physically push the youngest Stark to go fast. Bran wasn't sure if he was happy about that or not. On one hand, he could feel Robb's scorching stare as they climbed the steps; on the other hand, once they were in his room, the yelling would commence and Bran didn’t want to face the music of angry Mother-Hen Robb.
And as predicted, the minute they had all crowded into Bran and Rickon's room and the door was shut soundly, the floodgates opened. Jon took lead on this one, channeling in inner Ned Stark for a truly magnificent performance.
"What were you thinking?" Jon picked up right where he left off. Bran shot Arya a look to answer and Jon, having picked that up, turned his glare to her. "I should have known. Damn it, Arya, were you even using your head? With Bran's condition-"
"No one even noticed!" Arya cut in quickly with a heated stare. "No one looked or thought, hey, those wings look fucking real."
"Language," Robb grunted from behind Bran where he was removing the buttons from Bran's custom-made sweater to have access to the wings for inspection. All of Bran’s shirts and sweaters had to be handmade to accommodate the wings, which Sansa willingly made.
Essentially, they were the reverse of a normal sweater or jacket: instead of a slit down the front, there was one down the back that ran up to his shoulder blades and opened up to two holes Bran could fit his wings into. It was a T-shaped design that went through many mockups before finding just the right one. To avoid zipping it onto his skin or feathers, the slit was held together by large wooden buttons. Unfortunately, Bran was still having difficulty in removing the garments himself with the wings and all. He was still having difficulty walking through narrow halls.
"Oh whatever," Arya hissed. "Like having Bran locked in the house for three months is any better for his 'condition.'"
"It's because of his condition that he has to stay indoors," Jon growled in frustration. "I know you were trying to help but if someone saw-"
"No one cared!" Rickon cut in.
"Tonight, sure, no one saw, but what if someone starts asking around and we can't come up with an explanation for a Halloween costume that won't come off," Jon sighed.
Bran remained silent like Robb as they worked to get the sweater off and he relaxed his shoulders, back, and wings enough to let Robb inspect them for any damage or abnormalities, other than being on Bran's back.
Bran was actually waiting for Robb to blow up, to say something, to say anything. Robb was the one to take over when Mom and Dad died. Robb was the one who dropped out of law school to pursue a degree in science and medicine to better take care of Bran after the wings sprouted out of his back three months ago, jumping into accelerated courses and spending day and night trying to figure out what was going on. Robb was the one who ended up assuming all the responsibilities of three minors; a mortgage; medical bills; college tuitions of Jon, Sansa, and himself; and countless over things because Sansa was finally getting a chance at happiness that had been deprived from her for so long and Jon deserved to get to follow his passions when every opportunity had been snatched from him. Robb, in his own twisted mindset, figured that since he had been blessed with love from his parents, opportunity to do whatever he wanted, and being the oldest made him a ripe candidate to take on everything so everyone else could have what he had. Recently, exhausted swept over Robb like a wildfire, painting him a near portrait of Atlas with the world on his back.
But Robb remained silent as ever as Arya and Rickon defended their decision of taking Bran out from Jon. The discussion was beginning to loop for a third time Jon’s phone began to ring- the loud tune of Girls Just Want To Have Fun, the song programmed by one specific Stark. Everyone froze as the realization hit them hard: Sansa was calling. Sansa was calling, meaning she put her honeymoon, her fucking honeymoon, on pause to deal with this. Robb looked over Bran’s shoulder with a look of “You called Sansa? On her honeymoon? Really Jon?”
Suddenly, Bran's fear of Robb saying something was nothing in comparison to what Sansa was going to say. On one note, it was heartwarming that his siblings cared so much. Bran could easily be in a situation like Theon where his brothers couldn't give less of a fuck for what happened to him, yet here Bran was with siblings that changed their lifestyles for him. But then, of course, when Sansa found out that Arya, Rickon, and Bran had simply snuck off to a party, she was going to be fucking furious.
Not unlike a horror movie, when Jon answered the phone and switched it to speaker they five Starks were met with a static-riddled silence. Faint tropical music could be heard from in the background and Jon took the initiative to cough for Sansa’s attention.
“Is everything okay?” Sansa asked, her tone deceptively light despite the bit of a bite at the last word. “Theon was sending me update texts and suddenly stopped.” Robb made an audible groan at his boyfriend being the fuck-up that invaded Sansa’s honeymoon with update texts. “Did you find them?”
“False alarm,” Robb said loud enough for Sansa to hear as he prodded the skin around the wings, “they went to a party.”
Bran winced, not from Robb’s prodding but rather his callous tone. He ducked his head down as Sansa sucked in a deep breath. “A…A party? Like…in public?!”
“It was Arya’s idea,” Rickon muttered, throwing their sister right under the bus. It was one thing facing Jon, Rickon and Arya were always ready to fight him, however, Sansa rarely got into disputes. She was the more understanding of the siblings, being a smidge closer in age and knowing what it was like to have freedom taken away. But Sansa’s wrath wasn’t something into to be taken for granted.
Arya stared at Rickon like she had been stabbed in the back, hurt and betrayal shining in her eyes. “You little snitch-”
“Arya!” Sansa called her attention. “Were you even thinking?”
“Jon already asked her that,” Robb muttered from behind Bran, seemingly satisfied with finding no damage as he stood up and folded Bran’s sweater.
“Well, what do you think we should do?” Sansa demanded. “We aren’t just going to let this slide. Mother wouldn’t-”
“I think,” Robb cut to his sister off and crossed the room to stand beside Jon and the phone, “you should hang up and forget this happened. Spend your honeymoon with Margaery and don’t call back unless it is an emergency. Jon and I have this covered, have fun. Okay?”
“We have it handled,” Jon chimed in, glared at each of the younger Starks.
There was a pause and Sansa seem completely convinced but she conceded shortly after, sighing and softening her tone as she spoke directly to Bran. “Bran, don’t do that ever again. We were worried sick.” There was another sigh and Margaery could distantly be heard in the background. “Alright, I’m going to go, love you, okay? I was not mad, just worried. I love you all. Bye!”
No one spoke as Sansa hung up. Ygritte and Theon could be heard laughing about something or another downstairs as the five siblings stared each other down.
Robb turned on the three youngest siblings then, eyeing each with consideration before deciding, “I think it is safe to say that you are grounded. All of you.”
Bran didn’t mention that he was already grounded permanently but Arya groaned and Rickon whined at the punishment.
“For at least two weeks…and never do that again,” Jon echoed Sansa’s words with a little more authority.
“You should all go to sleep,” Robb sighed, looking ten years older than he should. “We’ll talk more in the morning.”
“It’s not that we want you caged in here,” Jon said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “But it is safer that way…until we figure this whole wing thing out.”
Bran nodded his head wordlessly.
With that, Jon and Robb slipped out of the room, heading toward their sweethearts downstairs. Likely, Ygritte and Theon would both be spending the night which meant Rickon, Arya, and Bran had no surveillance for the rest of the evening, however, long that would last with Robb’s “go to bed orders” hanging in the air.
“So next time we have to be more careful,” Arya said as soon as she thought the coast was clear.
“What do you mean ‘next time’?” Bran asked incredulously.
Rickon rolled his eyes, already on the same page as Arya. “Well, one set back into going to stop us. You had fun, right? We are definitely doing this again.”
Bran balked at both his siblings. “The only reason it semi-worked tonight was because Robb, Jon, and Sansa were busy and it was Halloween!” Bran pointed at his wings for explanation as to why any other night would end in disaster.
Arya waved him off unconcerned. “We can figure something out.”
“There is always a costume party we can find,” Rickon grinned.
Bran shook his head in frustration. It had taken a lot for him to go out tonight, even more, to not feel like he was abnormal and anxious about being caught. Hell, he had actually had a conversation with someone who wasn’t related to him and felt like a normal teenager. Jojen was…Jojen was the slice of normalcy that Bran had missed and craved and Bran knew it was idiotic to think he could have that again.
Arya read his face and sat down beside him. “Don’t think about it too much. Rickon and I have something in the works that might help you out. We should be ready to present it in the next few days.”
Bran glanced at them curiously and Rickon winked. “We are in the testing stages but soon we should be good to try it out…that is if you are brave enough.”
Bran had no idea what they were going on about but the idea that they had hope was enough to ignite the hope in his own chest. Maybe he could go outside and feel the sun. Maybe he could see a movie and take a walk without being a risk. Maybe he could go to school again or buy a soda from the convenience store. Maybe he could see Jojen again. Maybe he could kiss Jojen again and not have to worry about his wings giving him away.
“Besides, I’m half sure I can convince Ygritte and Theon into keeping Jon and Robb busy,” Arya smirked. “I mean, it’s not like they’ll need a lot of convincing.”
“And Gendry and Shireen will help too!” Rickon nodded eagerly. Granted, neither Baratheon cousin knew about the wings, but they had known the Starks for a fair while and would be willing to help in any way.
Bran was overcome with the faith his siblings had. He was about to express it when the door opened and Robb peaked his head in. The anger was gone from his face but his voice was drained. “You should all be going to sleep now.” The finality in his tone was enough to get the three siblings to move quickly. There was a pointed look thrown Arya’s way and she quickly huffed, patted Bran’s head and exited the room. Rickon drifted to his own bed on the other side of the room, changing into his sleep clothes as Bran changed his jeans for soft cotton sleep pants.
As Bran fell onto his stomach and shoving his arms under the cool side of his pillow, he could see his phone light up from the nightstand. Grabbing it quickly and lowering the brightness to not wake Rickon, Bran’s stomach squirmed and seeing it was a message from Jojen.
Hey~ I was wondering if you’d like to catch a movie sometime?? (or is that too awkward to ask after only one meeting? I don’t know how these things work…) :D
Bran felt a grin spread over his face and replied back quickly, without even thinking about the dark feathers tickling his bare skin.
I’d like that…maybe one day.
The reply was almost instantaneous.
Next Saturday?? They are screening Alien at the old school drive-in.
Bran glanced from the low light of his phone to Rickon who was already snoring softly. He and Arya supposedly have something planned…if it worked then Bran could see the possibilities of running through the streets and talking to actual people, not his family and seeing movies with a cute boy with soft lips…and if Arya and Rickon don’t pull through, he’ll have to cancel and it wouldn’t even matter because Bran wouldn’t ever be able to see him so what was the harm?
That’d be great. :)