Chapter Text
The crickets chirped eerily in the early morning.
High above them, shrouded in the night-time shadows, a figure danced through the sky on open wings.
In Logan’s world, some people were… special.
Some time ago, long before Logan was born, things… began to change. Babies were being born with anomalies, mutations - they had strange deformations on the bones of their shoulders, and their bone structure was different.
Through the generations, the deformations grew, took form, developed, until one day…
A baby was born, downy feathers soft on the small wings that branched from the baby’s back, as if they had always been there, as if there was nothing wrong with them.
More followed. Soon, winged children were… almost normal to see.
They were accepted as a new subspecies, and humanity was split, into the Winged and the Wingless.
The Winged were far from accepted into society, however. The children were teased when they played in the street, they had rocks thrown at them by the Wingless children, they were relentlessly beaten down and insulted.
But when they grew up, they rose against the people who belittled them.
They fought.
They initiated protest after protest - they were loathe to let the abuse they suffered continue on for their children to endure.
And it worked.
Winged children were allowed to go to school, were allowed to apply for jobs, were allowed all the rights that the Wingless enjoyed.
In theory.
In reality, prejudice still ran strong in the general populace. Every day it died down, but…
It seemed that the high school hierarchy left no room for change in that regard, Logan thought, grimacing as he was shoved roughly into the lockers.
He heard the trio laughing as they continued boisterously to their classroom, and rolled his eyes as he pulled his book from his locker and made his way to his first class - English.
As he walked into class, however, he was shocked to find someone he’d never seen before standing in the room, staring determinedly down at his shoes.
As the final bell rang, the teacher, Mrs. Lee, turned with a smile to the class.
“As you may have noticed as you walked in, we have a new student joining us. This is Virgil Storm, he’ll be part of your class as of today.” She paused, and Logan took the chance to study Virgil.
He was shorter than Logan - most people were, he’d admit - but more importantly, he was… like him. His black wings were curled tensely to his back, purple barely visible from where he stood.
They were similar to Logan’s - they had the same black base, except where Virgil seemed to have a vivid purple gradient, Logan had intermittent vivid blue feathers set in neat, exact patterns across the expanse of his wings. A night sky, marked into his very being.
Logan snapped back into the real world as Virgil sat quietly into the seat in front of him.
He could see Virgil bouncing his knee, his pencil tapping nervously against his opposite hand.
He leaned forward, tapping Virgil gently to get his attention.
“Is everything okay?” He asked calmly. “You seem to be a bit on edge.”
Virgil narrowed his eyes at Logan, and Logan quickly leaned back to give him space.
“Everything is fine.” He snapped, his voice gravelly.
Logan tilted his head silently.
Virgil watched him sceptically for a second before sighing.
“My school hasn’t gotten to where you guys are yet. Mrs. Lee told me to ask someone to help me catch up, but…”
Logan hummed, tapping his own pencil against his chin.
“I could help you, if you wanted.” He offered. “I still have all my notes from this school year, and if you feel up to it I wouldn’t be opposed to helping out after school.”
Virgil scoffed and for a minute Logan thought he was going to refuse, but to his surprise Virgil sighed, nodding and holding out a hand.
“Okay. Um, what is your name…?”
“Ah, my apologies. My name is Logan Beris. It’s nice to meet you. “
“That’s debatable.” Virgil mumbled, turning around in his seat.
Logan frowned but decided to leave it, tuning back into the lesson.
As the bell rang, Logan caught Virgil’s arm.
Something about the boy was intriguing, be it the defensive snapping or the guarded demeanor, but whatever it was, it made Logan want to get to know him better.
To his surprise, however, Virgil yanked his arm out of Logan’s grasp with a harsh glare and a...hiss?
Blinking, Logan watched in surprise as Virgil stalked away.
He seemed unapproachable at best, and unreasonably hostile at worst.
He simply couldn’t fathom it.
Shaking his head, Logan started off on his way to his next class, the dreaded extracurricular fine arts class every student was required to take.
He had, in a desperate bid, signed up for a creative writing class.
Looking back, it was very possibly the worst decision he’d ever made in the history of his academic career.
Logan, as was no secret, had no regard for fantasy or fiction, and creativity was in no way his area.
To say the least, he was screwed.
In comparison to his perfect A’s, the lowly C he had in creative writing was… concerning, to say the least.
He desperately needed help.
As he walked into the class, however, he found himself pleasantly surprised.
In the very back of the class, slouched in his seat as he scribbled in the margins of an open notebook, sat Virgil.
Walking over to him, Logan opted not to strike up a conversation.
Virgil seemed even less socially-inclined than he was - a high accomplishment, truly - and Logan was content to take it slow and sit in silence.
He saw Virgil give him a wary glance from his peripherals, and tried to loosen up his posture.
He relaxed his back, carrying his wings loosely and crossing his ankles lazily underneath his desk.
He pulled a folder out onto his desk, attempting to write a few more lines on the paper before class began.
He heard Virgil give an annoyed huff before the door closed, the teacher coming in before brightly beginning the class.
Logan tried to keep his distance. Virgil may be Winged, but that did not mean in any regards that he’d want anything to do with him.
Between trying to take notes, stealing glances at Virgil, and racing to complete the previous week’s assignment, the class was over before Logan could think of how to approach Virgil.
As the bell rang, he began to silently formulate a plan for tomorrow.
He stopped in his tracks, however, when he heard someone calling his name.
Turning, Logan merely watched curiously as Virgil walked up to him, looking suddenly as though he regretted saying anything.
“You… you take creative writing?” Virgil asked quietly.
Logan nodded solemnly. “Yes. Unfortunately, I am far from skilled, and my grades are suffering.”
Virgil smirked for a second before awkwardly looking to the side, shuffling his feet.
“You are skilled in this… fantastical… whimsical type of literature?” Logan asked.
Virgil shrugged. “I wouldn’t say skilled, but I can at least get through these classes.” He said, jabbing his thumb in the direction of the writing class.
Logan hummed, tapping his fingers together. “Would you mind if we had a little exchange of sorts?”
“... what do you mean?”
“I’ll tutor you in our shared English class to get you up to date with the content, and you tutor me in creative writing so that I won’t have a bad grade marring my record.”
Virgil raised a skeptical eyebrow, shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets. “What exactly is your grade in that class?”
“As of last week, I have a 79%, a C.”
“Buddy…” Virgil disguised a laugh with a cough. “That’s basically a B, you’re fine.”
Logan sniffed. “I do not like the feeling of… inadequacy that class gives me. It would be comforting to improve and to see positive feedback from the teacher, rather than the constant errors. Surely-”
“Chill, specs. I’ll help.”
Logan nodded gratefully. “Now, the one-minute bell just rang… am I right to assume you don’t know where all of your classes are, being new and all?”
Logan saw Virgil tense up, checking the time on his phone before navigating to his schedule.
“Oh, crap, you’re right!” Virgil said, grip tight around his phone.
“Apologies, but I thought we may have a few classes together, both being Winged. They tend to shove us all together. If we do, I could show you to the classrooms?”
Virgil paused, seemingly considering the offer even as he shifted nervously on his feet.
“...Okay. But only if we have the same classes, I don’t want to bother you and make you late, too.”
Logan shook his head, waving off his concerns.
“There’s nothing to worry about, I assure you. Now, what class do you have next?”
“I… um…” Virgil fumbled for a second before zooming in on the picture he had pulled up on his phone. “I have… Wing Studies, with Mr. Briant.”
Logan touched his fingers together, giving Virgil a pleased smile.
“I was correct. I can guide you to this class, we’re going to the same place.”
Virgil snorted, but followed Logan as he began to walk towards their shared class.
Before they could take three steps, however, they were almost bowled over by a Wingless pair - one wearing a red and white bomber jacket and the other hastily adjusting pale blue hoodie sleeves.
Logan saw as Virgil stumbled as the taller of the two accidentally knocked against him, and he jumped forward to right him with a steadying grip on his shoulders.
The two jumped up from where they had tripped and fallen, immediately turning and apologizing profusely.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry, I should have been looking-”
“-didn’t even so you there, are you okay, oh no-”
“-I knocked into you, didn’t I, you aren’t hurt are you?”
“I’m so, so, so, sorry!”
Logan, noticing the glare on Virgil’s face slowly gaining intensity, just waved them off dismissively.
“It’s fine,” He grumbled, trying to get them to leave, “Neither of us were harmed, there are no hard feelings.”
“Oh, thank goodness!” One of them said, the shorter one. “If we’d accidentally hurt someone I don’t know what I’d do!”
“Well, fortunately, you did not. We’ll be on our way.” Logan replied stiffly. The boy was just so… unnecessarily bright.
“Oh, right!” The shorter one gasped, grabbing the taller’s hand. “We’ve gotta go, Ro! We won’t make it!”
“Oh, great ooglie pooglies, you’re right!” ‘Ro’ exclaimed, flashing a bright smile. “Gotta run, see you guys later!”
Logan stood for a second, processing, after they left. “Did he say…?”
“Yup.”
“Utterly insufferable.” Logan sniffed. “And, they just ran into people while running, and what do they do? Unbelievable.”
He heard Virgil stifle a laugh beside him, and felt a strange sense of pride well up inside him.
The rest of their walk to their classroom passed smoothly.
“So, do they actually teach new material for this class at this school?” Virgil asked wryly as they took their seats at the back of the classroom.
“Of course not,” Logan snarked. “Whyever would they do that? We clearly haven’t learned it yet, don’t you know?”
Virgil cracked a smile at that and Logan shared an eye roll with him as the teacher closed the door, the tardy bell ringing.
With the confirmation that they really wouldn’t be learning anything of importance, Logan and Virgil spent the majority of the class passing notes between their desks.
The more they talked, the more Logan could feel Virgil’s defensive barriers falling.
“Now, as many of you know,” the teacher said, about halfway through the class, “Winged kind have faced many challenges in the past. I’m sure you know of them. The main challenge we will discuss in class today is that of discrimination.”
Logan heard a snort from his side, and when he looked over to Virgil questioningly, Virgil passed him the note, covered in Logan’s neat, tidy print and Virgil’s messy cursive.
‘Mmm, yes. Because discrimination, that’s a thing of the past” , the note read.
Logan couldn't help the small snort that escaped him, trying and failing to disguise it with a cough.
“Is there something you find amusing, Mr. Beris?” the teacher asks, voice sour.
“No, sir. My apologies, sir.” Logan recited.
Mr. Briant ‘hmphed’, but in the end he turned away and let the incident go, continuing with the lesson.
The rest of the morning passed in a blur.
Logan and Virgil quickly and silently agreed to find an empty table and sit together, seeing as how they had somehow quickly become attached at the hip. Virgil because, well, meeting people was hard and making friends wasn’t exactly his specialty, and Logan because socialization as a whole wasn’t a strong point of his.
They hadn’t taken so much as a bite when two boys, the same two who had crashed into them in the hallway, plopped down across from them.
“Mind if we join you?” Asked one. He was smiling sweetly, waving with one hand.
“If we said no, would you actually leave?” Virgil drawled, his voice gravelly and resigned.
“Wow, rude much, Charlie and the Dark Chocolate Factory?” The other piped up cheerily.
Virgil scoffed, rolling his eyes, and Logan cleared his throat.
“You may sit here, if you like. There isn’t much we could do to stop you, anyways.” He interjected. “I’m Logan Beris. This is Virgil Storm.”
“Sup.”
“Wonderful to meet you! I’m Roman Prince, and this is Patton Hart.”
Patton waved happily, grinning as he said a cheery hello.
“Pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Logan said politely, even as internally he was lamenting just how… bright these people were. In their personalities, their actions…
Truly insufferable.
“Who do you guys have next?” Patton asked politely as they began to tuck into their food.
“I have an extracurricular Astrology class in room 46.” Logan offered, offering a fry to Virgil.
Virgil declined, pushing food around his plate. “I have some… some science class. With Mrs… Mrs. Somner?”
Patton gasped suddenly across the table, his face lighting up as he wiggled in his chair. “Mrs. Somner? Me too! She’s nice, and the class is really easy, you’ll do fine!”
Virgil looked up uneasily, still absentmindedly pushing his food around on his plate. “I hope so… science has always been my worst subject.” he mumbled.
“What about after that?” Roman asked. “Who do you guys have for your last class?”
“I’ve got… Math…” Patton offered glumly.
“Same-sies.” Logan added, putting a hand up into the air.
“Same...size….” Virgil mumbled under his breath. Eventually he looked up, shaking his head in amusement as he smirked at Logan. “I have it too, with Mrs. Sharp.”
“So we’re all together then!” Roman said, a happy, childlike grin set on his face. “I have to say… math has proven itself to be an enemy I simply cannot defeat. One must wonder, when will the suffering end? When will the great Dragon Witch’s dreadful rule cease? When will-”
“Chill, Princey.” Virgil said, rolling his eyes. “If you need it that bad, I can tutor you in math.”
Roman cut off his offended cry mid-breath.
“You’re serious?”
“Deadly.”
“Awww, y-!”
“On one condition.”
Roman eyed him suspiciously.
“What’s the condition?”
“Please stop.”
“Stop what?”
“That.” He said, waving his hand vaguely in Roman’s direction.
Roman stopped for a second. Virgil was smirking, and finally, his meaning clicked in Roman’s mind and he was left to sputter indignantly.
Virgil shrugged, leaning back in his chair and frowning as he began to scroll through his phone.
Logan leaned over as Patton and Roman got caught up in their own conversation, the topic changing too quickly for him to keep up.
“Couldn’t bear to do something out of the goodness of your heart?” He whispered.
“Oh, shut it.” Virgil grumbled, but his ears went bright red,
Logan chuckled, leaning away. “Okay, okay. You should start thinking of something better to use next time, though.” He teased.
Virgil slouched further into his chair, his grumbling unintelligible as he sunk into his hoodie.
Soon, lunch was over and Virgil and Patton bid goodbye to Logan and Roman as they headed off to their shared science class.
The last period of the day came around, and Logan was itching to meet up with Virgil and the others again.
There was just… something addicting, about this taste of that mythical thing called ‘friendship.’
He pushed his way into the classroom, noting with the rest of the class the litany of notes scrawled across the board.
When he looked over them, he saw that Roman, Patton, and Virgil had saved him a seat in a small pod of desks, and he nodded gratefully as he sat down.
“Princey’s already freaking out.” Virgil whispered, jerking his thumb back to where Patton was valiantly attempting to explain last week’s math problems to a distraught Roman.
Logan rolled his eyes fondly, turning in his desk, and pulling notes from his folder and handing them to Patton.
Patton beamed at him, a ‘thank you’ on his lips, but the teacher entered before they could say much.
She greeted the class as usual, handing out practice assignments for the day and briefly going over what they’d learned the week before.
Logan and Virgil turned around in their desks as soon as the teacher gave the ‘all clear’.
“So…” Patton started, exchanging an excited glance with Roman, “Roman and I were thinking, because we all seem to have strengths in different areas - Virgil is good at math, and Ro is good at science, and Logan, you’re good all around but you struggle with the imaginative part of English, and I just need help with most things… We could have a study group? In the afternoons? We might end up just hanging out sometimes, but that’s fine!”
Logan met Virgil’s uneasy gaze and shrugged.
“It could help as you catch up in first period, as well as science…” He offered quietly. “We will be meeting for our English and writing classes anyways, what could it hurt?”
“ I dunno, Logan… I barely like you, those two are just kind of…”
Logan hummed, nodding his head in solemn agreement. “I’ll overlook the first part of that statement; they do bring a lot of… sunshine.”
“You do know we can hear you, right?” Roman asked incredulously. “We’re right behind you!”
Logan and Virgil turned to face him at the same time.
“I know what I said.” Virgil snarked, deadpan.
“Now, now, it’ll be fun!” Patton tried, his voice hopeful as he attempted to make eye contact with everyone. “Let’s just try it out, yeah?”
Virgil sighed but agreed, nodding moodily as he stared down at his worksheet.
Logan nodded to Patton, who let out a quiet whoop as Roman cheered beside him.
“When? Roman’s got theater rehearsals after school on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and I have band rehearsal Saturday…”
“We can just go after school today, nobody ever plans anything on a Monday.” Virgil grumbled, scribbling out answers.
“He’s right. Today would work fine. Where would you like to meet?”
“We could come over to my house?” Roman offered. “My parents don’t get home ‘til late, they won’t mind.”
Patton, Logan, and Virgil all agreed, and when the bell rang an hour later, they all walked together to Roman’s house.
It… didn’t go horribly. Despite all appearances, Roman was a fast learner, and Patton was nowhere as bad as he’d suggested. Virgil still struggled with some of the concepts, but he was doing fine. Logan… he still didn’t understand the purpose of the fictitious worlds that creative writing required, but he was beginning to understand how to fake it.
As the weeks passed, Logan grew more and more fond of his small group of friends.
Astrology was, as most anyone who cared to know knew, Logan’s favorite class.
But even so, he could barely concentrate on the lessons as the weeks passed.
His mind was overrun with thoughts of Virgil, and of Patton and Roman.
They were an interesting bunch.
Roman was loud and dramatic, but he was smart and quick-witted, responding to Virgil’s jabs in mere seconds. He was funny, and much more intelligent than he seemed at first glance, despite how… eh… extra, he could be.
As Logan learned more about him, from his love of classical literature, to the old English he could spout at a moments notice, to the numerous plays and songs he could recite from memory he couldn’t help but grow attached.
Patton seemed, at first, to be a bit of an airhead to Logan, but the more he observed, the more details he noticed.
Like how Patton reined Roman in when Virgil started getting genuinely irritated, or how he defused a tense situation with a perfectly-placed pun, or how he sent concerned glances at Virgil when he got a little too tense.
And as the days passed, over lunch and during the group’s shared last period, he only saw more.
And Virgil.
Logan could go on and on about Virgil. He was… fascinating.
He grumbled and he grouched and he glared and he snapped, but he also whispered jokes and smiled softly and softened his eyes with concern, and reassured Patton before a test and helped Roman rehearse for a play and calmed him down before he went on stage and helped Logan with his English paper and-
And Logan wasn’t sure ‘friend’ fit the label anymore when three months passed and he and Virgil read silently in the library together, when another two passed and Virgil passed out on his couch and sleepily mumbled against his chest as Logan carried him up the stairs.
He wasn’t sure it was right anymore, when he found Virgil slumped against the lockers after the late bell rang, his breaths coming short and ragged and tears on his face but still stubborn as he refused to move out of the hallways, as he passed the days with him and discovered that he was a genius at poetry..
As he then went over to Virgil’s house and listened to him play piano, as Virgil cleaned his cuts and bruises after he was attacked for being Winged, as he flew with Virgil and laughed with him over how the wind tangled their hair.
“Friend” no longer fully encapsulated the entirety of Logan’s feelings.
And, frankly, that was no longer the label that Logan wished to keep for him and Virgil.
Several months passed, until leaves littered the ground and even Logan had ditched his formal attire for soft sweaters and scarves.
Patton and Roman had finally admitted their feelings for each other, and it was sickeningly sweet watching them, as Roman was ever the romantic, and Patton all too happy to be his damsel in distress.
Even so, neither Logan nor Virgil could find anything remotely negative to say - they were so pure and happy, it was hard even to tease them.
Not that they didn’t.
Even still, Logan couldn't help but be envious of the easy way that they managed to confess to each other.
Away from their tight-knit group, however, things were only getting worse for the Winged.
Schools were cracking down, towns instituting curfews, parents picking up their children rather than allowing them to walk home, because-
Because there was something, some one who had his sights set on the Winged teens, and as the days passed his kill count only grew, and grew, and grew.
But that was miles away from Sanderston and its people, it was distant news, there was no way it could be of relevance to them .
Until it was.
It was well and truly winter when Logan got the call.
It was almost the end of the trimester, and despite the melancholy news, everyone thought they had more important things to so, with finals coming up soon.
Logan was no exception, his blinds closed against the night sky and music playing softly in his room.
And then his phone rang.
Logan stared for a moment, wondering why anyone would be calling him at… at almost two in the morning.
Flipping his phone over, he was even more surprised to see Virgil’s name emblazoned across the screen.
Virgil had expressed his loathing of phone calls multiple times, so it was highly unusual for he, himself to call someone.
“Hello?” Logan asked, concern tinting his voice. He could hear Virgil’s uneven breathing on the other line, and by the minute he was becoming more worried.
“I, I’m- did you…” Virgil was stuttering, his voice shaky and weak.
“Hold on for a second, Virge, okay?” Logan asked gently, trying to keep his voice even and sure.
He heard an affirmation from Virgil and took a deep breath. “I need you to take in a deep breath for me, okay? Remember that exercise you showed us a while ago?”
“Yeah, I- I remember.”
“That’s good. I’ll count for you, just focus on breathing, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Great, come now, In, two, three, four, hold, two, three, four, five, six, seven, out, two, three…”
Logan let his voice drone on until he could hear Virgil’s breath’s coming comparatively easier.
“What’s happened?” Logan asked. Virgil was trying to tell him something before.
When Virgil replied, his voice still trembled. “Do, um… do you remember, in Mr. Briant’s class, when I first transferred, we- we were talking about discrimination of the Winged? And on the radio, when we were studying with Ro and Pat a few weeks ago, they were talking about the- the serial killer? The one who kidnaps Winged kids, kids like you and me, and, and-”
“I remember, Virge, it’s okay, you don’t have to say it.” Logan assured, voice soft as he leaned back in his chair. “Is he..?”
“He’s here, Logan. In Sanderston.”