Work Text:
In a world of flight, Max was flightless.
In a society with wings, Max had none.
In an evolutionary advancement of airborne humans, Max was grounded.
This was the way things have always been for her. She was wrong from the moment she was born, sliding out of her mother’s womb screeching like a baby bird but had no little wings to prove she was anything close to being avian. There wasn’t even a single feather on her tiny body.
A flightless bird.
Though, even flightless birds had wings and feathers, at the very least. They might not be able to fly, but at least they still had the feathered limbs that marked their kind. She didn’t have any.
Her entire family hated her, she knew. Her mother, a pale-feathered dove, was scared of her, though she never said this out loud, but Max noticed the way she always kept her wings tucked in close when she went near her, as though she thought contact would make them fall off. Her step-father, a terrifying osprey, saw her as defective. And her step-brother, a disgusting griffon vulture, loved to needle her about her “abnormality,” as he liked to call it, and take advantage of her lack of flight. Sometimes he would fly her up high into the air and threaten to drop her, describing in detail how she would splat gruesomely against the pavement. Sometimes he offered to slice her back open and pull her wings out, saying that they were just hiding inside of her because they were ashamed to be a part of someone as awful as she was.
Sometimes she wished he would.
She didn’t know why she was like this. Everyone else she knew had wings. She had never met anyone like her before.
When she moved to Hawkins (what a funny name in a world like this), she had been hoping to find another person similar to her, but the small town was the same as everywhere else. A roost for those gifted with flight. A nest for her to be shunned out of. Another place to be gawked at like the horrible creature she was.
Still, she somehow found herself welcomed into a flock with open wings. The fledglings were weird, but they were her weird fledglings.
There was Will, a starling with dark, glossy wings that turned iridescent green-blue in direct sunlight; Mike, a magpie that would often ruffle his feathers when he was angry; Lucas, a Baltimore oriole with bright orange on the wrists of his wings; and Dustin, a Mandarin duck with the most colorful plumage she had ever seen before.
They didn’t care that she didn’t have wings; they still saw her as a regular bird, as though she were just like everyone else.
They were her flock.
Max’s back hurt.
This wasn’t anything special, really. Max’s body tended to hurt quite often. But this pain was different. Deeper.
It was almost like a pulling sensation inside of her, as though a fishing hook had been caught on her shoulder blades and some fisherman was trying to reel the bones right out of her body. It made undressing that morning uncomfortable, the chafing fabric of her pajama shirt rubbing like sandpaper against her skin. The hot water of the shower she took certainly didn’t help either, but there was nothing to be done.
It was in the bathroom when it first happened.
A sharp pain stabbed through Max’s right shoulder, causing her to yelp. She clutched back at the aching area, and contact only made the sensation throb harder. She then noticed something on the shower floor through wincing eyes that had begun to burn with sudden tears of discomfort.
Among droplets of blood that were being washed away by water, there was a single white feather.
“Do you think it’s possible to grow wings?”
Dustin looked a little bewildered when the question was spewed at him. Max didn’t really blame him. She didn’t even let him get a word in edgewise to her that morning, nor did she greet him or any of the others in their flock before she was spraying her needy curiosity out at him.
He blinked several times, opening and closing his Mandarin duck wings in a habit that meant that he was thinking. Then, he said, “Well…yeah, I think so. There have been some accounts of wingless people growing wings before, but it’s, like, a one in one million chance to happen.” He tilted his head at her. “Why do you ask?”
Max took a breath, then said, “I think I might be growing wings.”
Her flock stared at her.
Then, Mike started laughing. On the other wing, however, Will looked awestruck.
“Do you really think so?” he asked.
“Don’t listen to her, Will,” Mike said before Max could answer. “She’s being weird.”
“Shut it, you corvid cunt,” Max hissed at him.
“Yeah, let her explain, Mike,” Lucas said, equally as intrigued as Will. He looked at Max. “Go on.”
“Thank you,” Max said. “And yes, Will, I really do think so. My back hurts like a bitch, it started bleeding, and then this appeared while I was in the shower.” She then produced the feather from her pocket. It was all white, still a little damp. Her flock crowded around close to see.
“Woah!” Dustin exclaimed.
“No way,” Mike said. “That came out of you?”
“Horrible way to word that, but yes,” Max said.
“Can we see your back?” Will then asked, taking Max by surprise.
“Uhh. What?”
“Can we see your back?” Will asked again, as though that were the most normal question in the whole world.
Max blinked at him. “Why…?”
“To see if your wings really are growing in!” Will said.
“Yeah!” Dustin joined in. “Show us! Let’s see!”
“This is so weird, you guys,” Mike said.
“For once, I agree with Mike,” Max said.
“Come on,” Lucas begged. “Please?”
“Please? Please?” Will and Dustin joined in.
“Okay, okay, fine!” Max relented. “Let’s go see my…back.”
They all went to the club room, and the boys stood around her, watching expectantly. She hesitated.
“Can you guys, like, at least turn around?” she said.
They all nodded and did so. Max sighed, then wrestled off her shirt. Removing the oppressive fabric from her aching back was comforting.
“Okay, you can look now.”
She heard them all turn around, take in the sight, and—
“Oh my GOD!”
“Max, what the FUCK?!”
“That’s SO COOL!”
“EW!”
That was the chorus of reactions she heard from behind. How comforting.
“Is it bad?” Max asked nervously, hugging her shirt to her chest.
“It, umm…” That was Lucas, who sounded like he was grasping at straws, desperately trying to explain what he was seeing.
“Max, are you okay?” Will asked, sounding worried.
“I mean, it burns, but,” Max shrugged, then instantly winced. Bad decision.
“Can I touch it?”
“What?!” Max yanked her head around to look at Dustin. “No!”
“Damnit.”
“It looks so gross,” Mike said. “Ew. What is wrong with you?”
“Wow, thanks for being so kind about it!” Max said.
“Well, it’s true!”
“That doesn’t mean you have to— AGH!!”
Max couldn’t bite back a cry of pain as something in her back jerked violently. She felt her sharp tug in her right shoulder blade, like the whole bone was about to eject from her body, and she stumbled forward, collapsing down onto her knees. At the same moment, her flock screamed and groaned in disgust.
“EW! What the HELL?!” Mike shrieked
“Max!”
Dustin and Will both dove to her side. Will opened one wing around her, but she flinched away, the feathers lighting a fire of pain across her skin with even the gentlest of contact. Instantly, Will yanked his wing back, eyes wide.
“Ew! Ew! Ew!” Mike was yelling. “It just moved!”
“Why did it look like that?!” Lucas shouted at the same time. “It’s like you got a worm stuck under there or something!”
Mike gagged loudly.
“Dude, don’t throw up!” Lucas cried. “Then I’LL throw up!”
“Don’t bring up worms under skin, then!” Mike cried back.
Before anyone could say anything else, the door was flung open, and a teacher with American goldfinch wings burst inside, probably alerted by all the screaming.
Luckily for Max, her flock was able to move fast enough to shield her shirtless body. Will and Dustin got in front of her, holding their wings in a way that would hide her from sight.
“What is going on in here?” the teacher demanded.
“Sorry, ma’am,” Dustin said. “We got a little too into our roleplaying.”
The flock continued to talk with the teacher as Max wrestled on her shirt. She bit her tongue to keep from whimpering when the fabric rubbed uncomfortably against her back. She really didn’t like having to put it back on, but she couldn’t just go around school shirtless.
Eventually, the teacher was convinced enough and left. A collective breath of relief swept through the room, and then all eyes turned back to Max, much to her dismay. She didn’t like being under so much spotlight.
“Are you okay?” Will asked, concern thick in his voice.
“Yeah,” Max answered. “The pain has mostly faded. It’s still achy, but I’ll deal with it.”
“Can you even get through the whole school day like this?” Dustin then said.
“I’m sure I can,” Max said. “I’m tough!”
Even still, the pain was torturous.
It got worse. Throughout the day, random twinges would stab her in the shoulder blades, and her muscles throbbed continuously, causing her entire body to quake along with it. Burning sensations ripped across her back, and she was surprised she didn’t start crying on several different instances.
By the time school ended, Max was woozy, and her head felt hot. She barely found the strength to stumble to the club room before her knees buckled together, and she collapsed to the floor, luckily landing on her side and not her back. If she had fallen on her back… Well, she didn’t think she would even be alive anymore.
She didn’t know how her flock was able to locate her, but in her agonized daze, she eventually picked up on the sound of voices, shuffling footsteps, and ruffling feathers all around her.
“Holy shit…”
“Oh god, she doesn’t look too good…”
“I didn’t realize it was this bad…”
“Max? Max?”
Max blinked blearily. Were those tears in her eyes? She hoped not. She hated crying in front of people.
A cold hand pressed against her burning forehead, and she couldn’t help but lean into it.
“She’s got a fever.” That sounded like Will. His voice was so far away, like she was trying to listen to him at the other end of a long, echoey tunnel.
“A fever?” Lucas parroted. “Is fever a normal symptom of wing growth?”
“I don’t think it’s necessarily the wing growth,” Dustin said. “The body’s temperature rises when it’s in pain. A fever is the immune system’s way of dealing with something that’s wrong. So I think it’s from that.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Mike said. “So she is growing wings? Like, that’s seriously happening?”
“I think so,” Dustin said. “What else could it be?”
“It fucking hurts,” Max rasped, drawing full attention back to her. “Can one of you, like, cut open my back and pull the little bitches out already? Because this— this is hell.”
“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” Dustin said. “It might damage your wings.”
“Well, my wings are damaging me,” Max grumbled.
Almost like they heard her complaining, her shoulder blades both jerked outward, and she swore she felt the skin rip when a pain so thunderous it made her vision go bright white seared through her back. Her jaw unhinged to scream, and, despite starlings not being known for speed, Will moved fast enough to cover her mouth to muffle the tormented sound. One of his wings swept around her comfortingly, though they hovered just above her back to keep from hurting her, and although his body heat wasn’t helping her fever, she appreciated the contact nonetheless.
Her entire body went tight with pain, and she hunched over, Will’s hand still clasped firmly over her mouth. If Will felt her warm, salty tears pouring over his fingers, he didn’t say anything.
“Okay, she needs to get out of here,” Lucas said. “A school probably isn’t the nicest place to grow wings.”
“Well, usually when animals give birth, they go to someplace comforting and safe,” Dustin said.
“I’m not giving birth, Dustin!” Max managed to snap, pulling away from Will’s hand.
“I know, I know!” Dustin said, raising his hands and wings. “I’m just using it as an example!”
“Okay, somewhere comforting and safe, then,” Will nodded. “That shouldn’t be too hard to find.”
“What about my house?”
All eyes turned to Mike.
Trying to act cool and collected, Mike said, “It’s got a basement. Maybe it’ll be harder for people to hear her when she screams. Because I’m assuming she will. Since, you know, it’ll probably be painful.”
“Thanks for reminding me, asshole,” Max grunted.
“Alright, so we got somewhere to take her,” Lucas said before a possible argument could break out. “Here’s the next question: how do we get her to Mike’s house? I’m assuming she won’t be able to walk, and that means skateboarding is even more out of the question.”
“What if we do that thing we sometimes do? Tie a rope around one of us, have her sit on her skateboard, and then we pull her!” Dustin suggested.
Will shook his head. “Too risky. What if she falls off? Also, we don’t have a rope on us.”
“True.”
“What if we each take a limb and—”
“NO,” they all said in sync, cutting Mike off before he could even finish.
“Fine,” Mike sighed.
Lucas rubbed his chin, thinking. “We could carry her, but I don’t think any of us are strong enough to make it the whole way, unless we make pitstops to switch off.”
“I’m not that heavy, jerk!” Max hissed.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Lucas assured her. “It’s just that we’re all pretty scrawny, even if you are, too. Even carrying you on our back might not work because our wings could hit you. It could also mess up our flying.”
“Well,” Will said. “Maybe not. When I was younger, I used to ride on my brother’s back, and he would fly me around.”
Mike looked at him. “So you think that if someone is big enough, they might be able to carry her on their back to my house?”
Will nodded. “Yeah! We might as well try, right?”
“Right,” Mike agreed. “Now, who do we have do that? Your brother?”
A smirk then came to Dustin’s face. “I know the perfect person.”
Golden pheasants weren’t known for their extraordinary strength, but Steve was a bit different from the birds he took after. His golden feathers reflected the colors of twilight as he flew through the air, careful not to disturb the delicate cargo he had hanging onto his back like a baby monkey. If anything happened to her when he was meant to be transporting her, he was sure the four fledglings flying on both of his sides would maul him. And if they didn’t, then the mother hen bird of prey joining them in flight certainly would.
It wasn’t easy to carry someone else on your back when you had wings. The person was placed right in the middle of where the wings would flap, and they had to keep their legs cinched in tight around the flier’s waist to not interfere with flight. There was also the added burden of carrying someone else’s weight, but Steve didn’t complain despite all of this. He didn’t know the full story of what was going on, but he knew he needed to do this.
Dustin had flown all the way to the high school, and when he finally found Steve, he began squawking and quacking about “something being wrong with Max,” and she “needed him right now.” Nancy had been leaving at around the same time, and she joined them in a mad flight back to the middle school.
Dustin didn’t explain much on the way, simply yelling, “Less talking, more flying!” every time Steve or Nancy tried to ask what was wrong, but when they eventually landed on the campus and saw exactly what they were dealing with, Steve understood his panic.
Max looked awful. She had been slumped on her knees in the grass, shaking all over, her deathly white face dripping with sweat. Her expression was contorted in indescribable agony.
“You need to carry her to Mike’s house,” Dustin had said, hovering beside Steve’s head. He hadn’t landed for even a second during that moment on the middle school’s lawn, probably too freaked out to stop moving.
“Okay, what’s going on?” Nancy had then demanded.
“Max is growing wings!” Mike shouted.
Silence.
“WHAT?!”
That was how Steve ended up carrying the ailing Max to Mike Wheeler’s house.
The arms around Steve’s neck tightened, and he felt Max dig her face against his nape with a pained whimper. She was trembling so badly that it rattled his own body and almost made him unable to fly straight, but he kept his path of flight steady.
“Almost there, Max,” Steve assured the girl. “Hang in there.”
“And hey, just think, Max,” Dustin flapped up to soar beside Steve’s right. “You’ll be able to fly soon! You’re already getting a taste of it right now!”
Max lifted her head from where it was pressed against the back of Steve’s neck and looked over at Dustin. Dustin flashed her a dazzling smile and twirled in the air.
“Yeah!” Will joined in, coming up on Steve’s left. “We’ll all be able to go flying together!”
Steve couldn’t see Max’s reaction, but from the brightened expression on Will’s face, he thought she might have managed a smile. But only for a moment, because she quickly whimpered again and buried her face back into his neck. This time, a shuddering sob came with it.
She was getting worse.
Steve flew faster.
“It’s coming up!” Mike shouted through the wind. “Come on!” He then folded his wings and dove for the ground, the others quickly following his lead.
Diving with someone else on your back might have been possible if that someone wasn’t very injured and in extreme pain. Instead, Steve said “hang on” to Max, then canted his wings and lowered himself to the ground in a careful dip. It was the slowest he had probably ever landed in his entire life, but he didn’t mind, as long as Max was okay.
At least, he hoped she would be okay.
Nancy wasn’t going to say she felt like a proper mother hen, but she certainly felt worried for the young ginger fledgling in her basement.
Max didn’t look good at all. In fact, she looked worse. Tears shimmered on her pale cheeks, and she was still trembling. Her pallor had definitely lightened, if that was even possible when she was already so deathly white.
“Okay, what do we do now?” Steve asked. He still had Max clinging feebly onto his back, though Nancy suspected he was the whole reason she was even able to hang on. She looked like all her strength had been zapped from her small body, leaving her weak and frail. She certainly looked breakable.
“I guess just wait for the wings to grow in,” Dustin answered. “We should try to make her as comfortable as possible.”
Nancy and other others—minus Steve, who kept holding Max so she wouldn’t have to put any weight on her body—got to work, making a comfortable pallet on the floor for Max to lay on. The couch might have been better, but Dustin said she would need a more open space. Wings were big, after all.
…Which made Nancy wonder. If Max really was growing wings, would they come out all small like they would when someone was born, completely featherless, or would they be fully grown? And if they did come out fully grown…would her little body even be able to handle such a strain?
Nancy looked over at Max. Her head was resting on Steve’s shoulder, eyes shut, face pinched with discomfort. Steve was swaying her to keep her soothed, which Nancy found absolutely adorable. Even still, it couldn’t stop the worry that bubbled up inside of her.
She hoped Max would be okay. She had to be okay.
“Alright, what’s next?” Lucas asked after the pallet was finished.
“Why don’t we see exactly what we’re dealing with?” Nancy said. “Also maybe get that shirt off of her. It looks like it’s hurting her.”
To confirm Nancy’s statement, Max nodded sluggishly.
Nancy helped Steve carefully lower Max onto the pallet. She then knelt beside the shuddering girl. Before she asked the question on her tongue, however, she turned her head to the abundance of roosters around them.
“Do you guys mind?” she said.
They realized what she meant and all turned around.
“Thank you.” She looked back at Max. Softly, she asked her, “Think you can take your shirt off?”
Max attempted, but she only got the shirt halfway up before she gave up and whimpered in pain. “I— I can’t…”
“No need to worry,” Nancy said. “I can—”
“No, Nancy, I can’t lift my arms, ” Max said, her voice quivering. “It hurts too much.”
Nancy frowned. “I see. Well, don’t worry. I got this.”
She got up and retrieved some scissors.
“How much do you like this shirt?” she asked Max.
“I don’t…really care. Just get it off. Please.”
Max’s voice broke on the “please,” and it sent a lightning bolt of worry shooting all throughout Nancy. Using the scissors, she cut off not only Max’s shirt, but her bra too, revealing the damage underneath to the open air—and awaiting eyes.
It was worse than Nancy had been expecting.
Max’s entire upper back was painted black and blue with bruises, but her shoulder blades looked the worst. They were swollen and inflamed, burgeoning a deep red color. There was something sticking out of the skin, and upon closer inspection, Nancy realized those were feathers. Bloody feathers.
The others seemed about as shocked as she was when they got permission to turn around. Poor Max looked so overwhelmed, and Nancy realized that having so many people present for this, especially when Max was shirtless, probably wouldn’t be the best idea, so Nancy made the declaration for everyone to grab her some things and then get out.
Steve and Max’s flock were, rightfully, opposed to this, saying they wanted to stay to support Max, but Nancy assured them that she would take good care of the girl. Harpy eagles were one of the deadliest raptors alive for a reason; she wouldn’t let anything happen to Max on her watch.
Eventually, the boys relented. They grabbed her myriad of items—a water bottle, a basin of water, a rag, some brushes—and then went upstairs to give her and Max some space. Before Steve followed, he stopped at the foot of the staircase to say, “Take care of her.”
“I will,” Nancy promised him.
He nodded and then followed Max’s flock up the steps.
Nancy and Max were alone.
Gently, Nancy brushed Max’s face with her fingers, moving some hair out of her eyes. The skin was hot and damp with sweat.
“How are you feeling, sweetie?” Nancy asked her.
“Not very good,” Max answered.
Nancy couldn’t help but chuckle. “I would assume so,” she said. “Lay down. On your stomach. Try to get comfortable.”
Max obeyed, too exhausted and in pain to do anything else. Nancy ran her fingers through her hair, hoping it would bring her at least some kind of comfort.
For a while, the two of them just sat there in silence, and Nancy started to wonder if Max’s wings would actually be growing in at all today. She hoped so; she couldn’t stand the thought of the poor girl being in any more prolonged pain.
“Nancy?” Max croaked out at one point.
Nancy looked down at her. “Yes?”
“Do you really think I’ll be able to fly if I get wings? Like Dustin said?”
Nancy’s heart melted for this girl. She smiled endearingly and stroked one of Max’s cheeks as she said, “I’m sure you will. I bet you’ll be the best flier, too.”
That brought back a little light in Max’s glassy eyes, and she raised her head slightly, awestruck at the idea of her being the best flier in her flock. “Do you really think so?”
“Mhm,” Nancy smiled. “Just think: you’ll be able to out-fly my brother.”
That thought brought a smile to Max’s face, but it didn’t remain for long. Her eyebrows furrowed. “But wait… I won’t know how to fly…”
“I’ll teach you,” Nancy said without even thinking it through.
Max blinked up at her in delight. “Really?”
Once again, Nancy didn’t think her response through, but she didn’t need to. She nodded. “Really.”
Max looked downright enraptured, and it was an adorable expression to see, but unfortunately, similar to her smile from before, it was wiped away rather quickly. This time, it was because of pain.
A choked cry tore out from Max’s lips, and she buried her face against the pillows and blankets around her, sobbing. Nancy whipped her gaze back to her back, but aside from some spasms in her shoulder blades and a few more feathers emerging from her skin, nothing seemed to be happening yet.
“Hey, hey, hey, shhh,” Nancy murmured, stroking Max’s head. “It’s alright, honey, it’s alright. Nothing is happening yet. You’re okay.”
“No,” Max gasped over the pain she had to have been in. “I can’t do it, Nancy. I can’t do it!”
Nancy frowned. She wished she could do something, wished she could take Max’s pain away, but she knew there wasn’t anything to be done.
“I’m gonna die,” Max sobbed.
“Hey, don’t say that,” Nancy said. “You’re not going to die.”
“I’m gonna die!” Max cried again, lost in her hysteria, and there was a quivering wail clinging to the end of her words. “I can’t— I can’t grow— they’re gonna kill me, Nancy! M-my whole back will be ripped open and— oh god. I— I don’t wanna die!”
Nancy was so glad she sent the others out. Max’s flock shouldn’t have to hear this (though, she suspected they might have been listening through the door at the top of the staircase).
Nancy couldn’t help but sweep her grey harpy eagle wings around Max. She lifted the girl’s head to rest in her lap, and Max instantly pressed into her, shuddering and crying.
“I’m not going to let you die, Max,” Nancy said to her. “I promise. You’re going to be just fine, sweetheart. But I need you to breathe, okay? Breathe. Try to follow me.”
Instead of doing what she asked, one of Max’s hands grasped desperately at Nancy’s shirt, and Nancy could practically hear the pleas for help without Max even opening her mouth.
“Make it stop,” Max begged. “Please, Nancy, make it stop! It hurts!”
Nancy resumed stroking Max’s sweat-damp hair, knowing it was the only thing she could really do at that moment. “I would if I could, Max. I would rip off my own wings if it meant you didn’t have to feel this way anymore.”
That made Max pause. She sniffled, then said, “But then you wouldn’t have wings. And your wings are really pretty…”
Nancy chuckled softly. “I’m willing to have them gone for you, sweetie.”
Once again, Max looked slightly enraptured with her, but once again, that expression was replaced with agony.
Max suddenly whimpered sharply, digging her fingers into the blankets.
It was happening.
Nancy watched in morbid awe as the muscles in Max’s shoulders visibly bunched and pulsated, causing the entire plain of flesh that was her bruised back to quiver. Something rolled from underneath, and poor Max’s skin rolled with it.
“It hurts!” Max wailed, tears streaming freely down her face. “IT HURTS!”
Nancy wished she could help in some way, but this was something she couldn’t aid. Max had to get through it herself. All she could do was lend her presence and hoped that it could bring even an inkling of comfort.
“Hold my hand, sweetie,” Nancy said, offering Max her hand. Max took it instantly, and Nancy quickly realized this was probably what men felt when their laboring wives clung onto them because her hand was squeezed so tightly she thought the bones would shatter.
Still, she didn’t care. Whatever Max needed.
Max’s swollen shoulder blades began to push outward, skin straining with whatever was underneath. Her flesh finally tore open from the pressure, sending rivers of blood streaming down her spine, and folded appendages grew out from her back, swathed in a veil of glistening, fluid-soaked pink tissue. The sound of muscles ripping and tendons popping accompanied it.
Max threw her head back and shrieked in agony, and the appendages flared open, splattering blood in a magnificent ruby arc across the room.
Wings.
Max collapsed into the pallet, limp. Nancy snapped out of her awestruck trance from what she had just witnessed and lifted the girl’s head into her lap, stroking her sweaty hair in a calming way.
“It’s okay, sweet girl, it’s okay,” Nancy murmured, “It’s over. You did it.”
Max didn’t answer. She seemed to be unconscious. Poor thing.
Nancy’s eyes trailed over to Max’s new wings. They weren’t as big as they should be right now, but they certainly weren’t small, either. She suspected they would grow to their regular size eventually.
There were only a few patches of adult feathers scattered on the wings; fluffy baby down was in the place of proper feathers. Blood made the plumage thick and heavy. The right wing wouldn’t stop twitching.
Time to prune.
Wetting one of the brushes in the bowl of water the boys had retrieved for her, Nancy began brushing out Max’s wings, cleaning the plumage of blood, grease, and amniotic fluid. She was very careful in the process, not wanting to accidentally hurt Max when she was surely still sore. One glance at her bruise, blood-spattered back would tell anyone that she would be achy for a while.
After finishing the left wing and moving to the other side to clean the right wing, Max stirred.
“Nancy…?” Max moaned weakly.
“Right here, honey,” Nancy said, gently touching her cheek for a moment. “How are you feeling?”
“Sore,” Max said. “What are you doing?”
“I’m grooming your wings,” Nancy told her.
“My…wings?” Max whispered. She lifted her head and looked over her shoulder. One of her wings twitched, and she gaped at the sight, fresh tears filling her eyes. “I… I have wings. I have wings!”
Nancy smiled. “You do, Max. You’ve got wings.”
Max tried to spread her wings, but she was too sore, too weak, and too exhausted to manage such an action. She collapsed back down onto the pallet, thoroughly fatigued. Nancy lifted her head to let it rest in her lap.
“They feel so heavy…” Max mumbled dazedly.
“They’re still new, remember,” Nancy reminded her. “They’re also damp. The feathers get heavy when they’re wet.”
“How do you take showers?”
“Patiently.”
Nancy resumed pruning, ridding Max’s right wing of blood. As she was doing so, the fluffy little wing fluttered under her touch. It seemed content with the pampering, and from the soft coo that came from Max, its fledgling appeared to think the same thing.
“Does this feel nice?” Nancy asked, rubbing the wings again. She felt Max nod against her legs. “You are so cute. ” She smiled softly. “Pretty wings…”
Max raised her head a little. “You think so?”
Nancy nodded. “Definitely.”
Even with all the blood and fluids washed off, it was difficult to tell what bird Max took after. The fluffy grey-white down could shed into anything when the time came for her to grow her plumage.
Eventually, the sound of the basement door creaked open, and a voice called down.
“Nancy?” Dustin said. “Can we come down now?”
“Steve is pulling out his hair and making a nest from worry up here,” Lucas added.
“I am not!” Steve barked. Who knew pheasants did that?
Nancy chuckled. “Yeah, you can come down now. Just stay quiet. She’s tired.”
Steve and Max’s flock nearly flew down the staircase, and Nancy couldn’t help but laugh softly. She unfolded her wings from around Max, letting the boys take in the sight, and they all gasped in response.
“WINGS!” Lucas cried. “Dustin, you were right! She has wings!” He grabbed Mike and shook him. “MAX HAS WINGS!”
“Oh my god,” Mike said as he was being shaken.
“I knew it! I knew it!” Dustin cheered, flapping his wings up and down.
Steve and Will knelt down next to Max. Will brushed one of his wings against Max’s, and Max’s wing twitched in response, not quite strong enough to return the gesture of affection.
“You look great, Max,” Will smiled.
“I sure hope so,” Max said tiredly, managing a weak grin back at him. “I’ve been waiting all my life for these things. They better not let me down.”
“I’m sure they won’t.”
“How are you feeling, kiddo?” Steve asked, opening one wing to rest it against the small of Max’s bare back. Perhaps to try and hide her nude form more.
“Very sore,” Max answered. “And tired. I’m so happy that’s over.”
“Look at how fluffy they are,” Dustin said. He crouched down to touch one of them, and the wing fluttered in reaction. “They’re so SOFT!”
“Hey, gentle,” Nancy said to him like a proper mother hen.
“You’ve got baby down, Max,” Mike laughed.
“Yeah, and I bet I could still beat you at a race with it,” Max said.
Mike raised his wings. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah! But not now. Too tired. Goodnight.” Max thumped her head back down into Nancy’s lap and promptly fell asleep.
Nancy chuckled and smiled lovingly down at the girl. “I bet she’s going to be an owl. A pretty little owl.”
Steve tilted his head at her. “Oh yeah? You think so?”
“Yeah. Just a hunch.”
“Very fitting,” Dustin nodded. “I mean, have you seen the way baby owls lay? She looks exactly like one right now.”
They all laughed.
It was perfect.
She was perfect.