Chapter Text
Buddy always hated his wings.
What use is an angel without proper wings? He didn't look like an angel and he wasn't treated like an angel. The humans usually praised the angels, worshiping them and bowing down at any given moment. The angels were recognized for their large, grand, and beautiful wings, their majestic ways of moving and appearing. Could Buddy even be considered a real angel, if he didn't have any of those attributes? His wings hadn't grown to be beautiful and feathered, instead covered with scales and sharp edges. He didn't have anything elegant about the way he behaved according to the angels of the upper class, and he certainly wasn't majestic in any way. So what was he?
Various times throughout the dragging days of the past, Buddy would ponder this question during any free moment, often times after praying sessions or during the short hours in which school was in session. He wasn't quite an angel, but he wasn't quite a human either. Buddy didn't think he was much of anything, to be frank. Just something born in the wrong place at the wrong time and kept because why go through all the trouble of having to get rid of something if you could just pretend it didn't exist? So that was how things went- every angel in heaven pretended that Buddy didn't exist in the first place and Buddy pretended they didn't exist. No one went against those unspoken rules, not even Buddy himself. Why would he? He had gotten used to this life of being alone, so why change things now? It was actually quite refreshing. Putting a mask on your face got rather exhausting, but putting a facade up for others to enjoy would just kill him from the inside out. Being alone made things easier. He didn't have to express or explain himself in any way, not to mention not having to deal with the imbeciles during school hours. It was a life he was content with. He often compared himself to an incurable virus- something everyone avoided and hated, but none bothered to address it properly because it cannot be cured.
It had been a simple schedule. He'd wake up, have his first praying session, go to school, have the second praying session, and get the rest of the day to do anything he desired to do in order to fill his time. While it did get boring at times, he always managed to distract himself with a new book or human watching. He wasn't the happiest, of course, but all he needed to do was survive. He didn't have to live to survive. So, he was able to continue like this throughout his life for many years. It was when he turned thirteen when he met them. The people who would change the entire course of his life.
He had been relaxing beneath his favorite tree, reading a book about the history of angels. The tree had a large green sea of leaves that provided shade on the branches and a large sturdy trunk that provided something to lean against when not laying down. The flap of wings normally wouldn't have caught his attention, for that sound occurred quite often in the skies of heaven. Though these flaps sounded like they had been approaching his position. Once he had been sure they were, he looked up from his book, only to see a man and a woman standing in front of him. The pair looked no older than seventy, their smiles almost as fake as CGI editing. It was clear they wanted something, but the real question was what.
“I take it you're the angel with deformed wings?” the man offered, twisting his head to the side in an attempt to catch a glimpse of Buddy's scaled wings.
He gave a silent nod in reply, snapping his book shut and folding his wings closer into his back to prevent the man from seeing them. He wasn't quite sure why he had done this, maybe he had been uncomfortable with the man's judging eyes on him, or maybe he just disliked the whole situation in general. Either way, there was something going on.
The man chuckled at the sight of the uneasy boy, his wings fluttering softly behind him at the action. He reached out a slim hand from behind his back, the other sliding into his pocket smoothly as he did so. “The names Alexander Libris.”
Buddy stared up at the man with an unchanging stare, his gaze not quite challenging but not welcoming either. “What brings you here, Mr. Libris?”
“Straight to the point, I see,” he commented, brushing his hand off on the lapel of his suit as if merely touching the atoms in the air around Buddy had contaminated it. “Well, I suppose we can skip the introductions then.” The man offered another smile before turning and walking away, motioning for Buddy to follow along as the elder lady followed beside him.
Buddy sat there for a few moments, staring at the man's slim retreating figure for a few moments. What did this guy want? And why couldn't they talk here, where there were more angels wondering about? Everything about this was just keeping the suspicious feeling in the boy's gut growing, like a sped up video of a plant sprouting out of the ground. Even so, he couldn't allow the man to just walk away like that without getting any answers. So, Buddy got to his feet and followed behind the two quickly, doing his best to catch up without seeming desperate.
“Now,” the man continued on, clasping his hands behind his back. “I'd like to speak to you about those wings of yours.”
Buddy visibly shuddered, though he tried to hide the action by doing a small stretch of his back. He didn't want to appear weaker than he was already viewed. “What about them?” he finally asked when the man didn't continue.
“Well, as everyone's most likely pointed out, they're not exactly the most normal pair of angel wings.” The man fluffed out his own pair of wings as if to demonstrate the beauty that Buddy didn't have. It only helped to annoy Buddy even further. “I'm here to help you with that matter.”
“I don't need help,” Buddy snapped back, his eyes narrowing further as Mr. Libris continued to talk down on him as if he were merely a toddler. “I didn't ask for it either.”
“Oh, you poor, poor boy,” the man replied, a hand coming up to ruffle Buddy's hair a bit roughly. “Wouldn't you much prefer it to not be so alone all the time? To finally fit in and make some friends for once? Have even one deep connection?”
Buddy kept silent at the man's questions, unsure how to respond to them. Did he want to fit in? Did he want a connection? The more he thought about those questions, the more things seemed to come together like a puzzle piece. Yes, he wanted a connection. He wanted someone who would care for him no matter what. “Yes,” he finally muttered out, his eyes darting down to the floor and finding great interest in watching his bare feet walk atop the soft grass beneath him.
“I thought so. You don't need to be alone any longer, boy. I specialize in helping poor souls like you,” the man offered, a hand coming to the small of Buddy's back to guide him into a building and down the stairs. “You see, you're not the first angel to have a problem involving your appearance.”
“I'm not…?” The idea seemed almost foreign to him, not being alone in looking different or deformed.
Mr. Libris chuckled, shaking his head and opening a door with a keycard. “Of course not, my boy. You don't see them as often because me and my dear friend help those poor angels in order to regain their natural form once again. You too can become normal, with time.”
Normal.
At times in the past, being normal seemed so distant, so unheard of, and yet…it was so close now. He could finally be viewed as an equal instead of someone below. He could learn properly and pray properly and enjoy his freedom with the other angels if he went through this.
At hearing the benefit of this decision, Buddy had immediately agreed. There were no cons to this action, after all. It was as simple as allowing Mr. Libris to do a few “examinations”, staying in his lab, and behaving well. It was such a small risk that there was barely a competition between yes and no at all. Boy, what a fool he had been back then. It was shocking to see how stupid and reckless you can act when introduced with something you desire so very badly. Could you really blame him for that one terrible decision?
The first week of the “examinations” were just as expected- testing reaction time and reflexes, speed, agility, three meals a day, and a nice place to stay. Gradually, however, the examinations turned more violent, often including tearing off a scale or two from his wings or seeing how long he could go without eating. It would be worth the risk, though. Finally becoming normal would be worth anything after living a life of being an outcast. Right? It was plain to see Buddy was trying to convince himself it was true more than just plainly believing it. Week after week, the examinations turned into tests where his scales were ripped, his blood was stolen, his body was beat- all just to test what? His limit? He was starved to near death, left to freeze in the ripped and dirty clothing he had worn for combat tests throughout the month. Despite the tears ripped and blood stained into the outfit, Mr. Libris still forced Buddy to keep himself somewhat presentable, sometimes dressing his body up in jewels or bracelets of chokers. He claimed that “if none of it worked, then he might as well keep the little beauty he already had”. He was decorated like a Christmas tree on display, often forced to keep a content expression on his face despite how much pain he may be feeling inside, because that's just how things went. It was exhausting, both mentally and physically. Buddy didn't think he could take another day of the continuous torture if his life depended on it.
Seven years later, Mr. Libris came to open up Buddy's room to toss in a glob of meat, Buddy had had enough. He sprang up nearly immediately, tackling the older man onto the ground and kicking him against it before flying up into the air and speeding towards the door. He forced himself to push through the continuous aching of the missing scales in his wings, the aching a constant reminder of all the pain and suffering he had gone through just to have a chance at becoming normal. Never again. It was just when he had made it to the door when he had been grabbed by the back of the neck and yanked back against Mr. Libris.
The man leaned close, his ragged breath a continuous uneven pattern against Buddy's skin and his grip almost murderous. It felt like he could snap Buddy's neck at any moment. “Where do you think you're going, boy?” the elder asked, his voice strained with forced kindness. “I do hope you're not trying to escape. I'd think that such a willing subject like you wouldn't want to jeopardize everything we've built here just to keep you you, so it's rather odd, is it not? We've done nothing but try to help you, and this is what we get?”
Buddy spun around quickly, his heart beating faster than a race car could drive. The elder man's words felt like glass shards clawing at his skin and lungs, sending a wave of something far worse than fear or pain through Buddy's body.
“Selfish?” he shot back, narrowing his eyes and puffing his chest in an attempt to look stronger than he truly felt in that moment. “How can you say that? How can you stand there and pretend like you haven't ruined my life since the day I met you?!” He stepped forward, his eyes filled with nothing but fiery hatred for the man. “You make me sick! You've done nothing but lie to my face and abuse me for years, and you somehow have the balls to call me selfish!” He took another step, opening his mouth to once again begin telling the man off when a heavy slap was delivered across his face, sending him into the cold stone of the floor.
He lay there for a moment, staring down at the ground in a momentary trance of surprise before the look of hatred crossed his face again. Of course he should've expected the man to fight back. Why wouldn't he, after all? Buddy was just seen as a pawn in that cruel man's eyes. Something used to punish merely for just existing. It shouldn't have been a surprise to him that such a cruel person would continue to try and harm him, even after he made it clear he wouldn't put up with such mistreatment any longer. Well, he had already planned out what he was going to do. Might as well follow through.
Before he could even manage to get to his feet, however, Mr. Libris grabbed him by the arm and dragged him out of the building himself, his grip tight enough to leave a mark- and tight enough to break a bone, in Buddy's opinion. Not very many angels were out at such a late hour, though every angel that just so happened to be out was intrigued with what was happening. After all, they hadn't seen the scale winged angel in years. Most thought he had died, so of course they were interested in how he had been hidden from the rest of heaven for so long. The angered elder didn't seem to care who was watching, his mind set on one goal and one goal only- but what? Buddy couldn't seem to figure out as he was dragged forcibly through the halls of the grand church, where the angels of the higher ranks tended to stay. What did any of this have to do with the higher ranked angels? What was that horrible old man going to do?
Nothing could be worse than staying down there in that prison, right?
It had been foolish to think that back then, though not completely unintelligent. After having arrived in the room where most announcements for heaven were held, the older man threw Buddy at the feet of a high rank angel, the angel's eyes widening upon seeing the scale winged angel for the first time in years.
The angel looked up at the other man, opening her mouth to speak but not getting a chance two as the other began spewing all sorts of nonsense. “This boy is an abomination to heaven! He can't even be considered an angel for all he's done for me and my group!” Mr. Libris began pacing around, leaving the angel unable to speak and Buddy sitting helplessly on the ground while awaiting his fate. “We've done nothing but try and help him fit in and he attempted to throw it all away for nothing!”
“What?!”
“I've given him nothing but my grace and patience,” the man continued, his pacing coming to a halt to glare down at Buddy as if he were a moldy block of cheese on a sidewalk. “Then he goes and trashes all my work! He has a place to sleep, food, shelter, and this selfish brat is complaining! He tried to harm me just minutes before I managed to get him out the door!”
“M-Ma'am, that isn't true!” Buddy exclaimed as he shakily got to his feet, looking up at the powerful angel with a fearful gaze. “All of that is a lie! I couldn't fight him even if I wanted to!”
“So you've thought about it?!” the man spat, his glare intensifying. “See what this boy is doing?! He's trying to manipulate you, ma'am! Don't fall victim to the monster's trickery!”
“I'm not a monster!” Buddy snapped, spinning around on his heel and scowled at the man. How much he hated this man couldn't even be put into words. It was shocking to see just how much you could hate a person.
“Selfish brat!” the man spat back, his wrinkly eyes returning the look of hatred with just as much fire, if not more. “You even scared the young children of the church when you went to pray! You're a monster! A-”
Buddy didn't know why he had done it at that moment. Maybe it had been anger overtaking his logic, or maybe he thought it would shut Mr. Libris up for once. He knew it was stupid, but he just couldn't help it. He flew up and swung himself at the elder man, tackling him to the ground. He hit and punched and clawed at the man's face- anything just to get him to shut up for once in his goddamn life. Once the other angel made an attempt to intervene, however, he was already beyond reasoning. It seemed pointless to make an attempt at reasoning with someone who only wanted their own benefit, and not to put an end to the negatives from both sides. He continued to fight and scream and thrash in the angels grip, his sharp wings flapping furiously behind him as he struggled to break free and continue beating the man to a pulp once again. After everything that man did, lie to his face, rip out each of his scales with a chisel one by one, starve him to near death, beat him to a pulp, then try to frame him, that man deserved it. No, he didn't deserve mercy or a peaceful ending. He deserved to feel the amount of pain he had put Buddy and possibly many others through. So why were the other angels stopping him? Weren't angels all about peace and fairness? This wasn't fair. Not at all.
Before he knew it, however, he had been pinned down- forced to his knees before the elder man and the woman angel they had first spoken to at the very beginning, despite the anger bubbling beneath the surface. Buddy stared up at the two angels before him, his arms held behind his back by another pair of angels and his wings bound tightly by the woman's magic. The disapproving stare would've been enough to scare Buddy half to death in the past, but right now, all he wanted was to get his revenge on that damn Libris.
The woman continued to stare at Buddy for a few moments, her gaze cold and unwavering before she finally spoke. “Mr. Libris, is there any punishment you wish to bestow upon the one who attempted to injure you so badly?”
The wrinkled man nodded, a sly smile forming on his gradually deteriorating face. “Why, yes, I suppose there is one thing.” He paused, possibly for dramatic effect. Though Buddy couldn't have cared less. “He will be sent to earth to live the rest of his days like the monster he is, unable to return to heaven- at all.”
Normally, Buddy would have protested. He would've cried and begged and pleaded and done anything to prevent from being shipped down to earth. But it's not like it would've changed anything anyways. He was guided to the portal to the world beneath heaven soon after that and publicly thrown down into what seemed like a never ending sea of green and water. He wasn't present to hear anything else that happened afterwards, but he was sure there was some sort of celebration held on the day of his leave.
So there he was, all alone on earth for his 20th birthday. What a pity he was.
The sound of branches and twigs snapping caught his attention, bringing him back to the present for the first time in what felt like hours. He lay slumped against a tree, too exhausted to move even the littlest bit on his own. His whole body felt sore after being thrown into various sharp branches and tossed against the ground like a child's ragdoll. His upper shoulder was bleeding like hell, though he didn't pay any mind to it. His first priority was to make sure no one saw him, and from the sound of it, he had already failed at that alone.
He would've gotten up. He should've gotten up. He knew he had to, he knew he should, but the exhausting feeling in his body only continued to grow, almost like a weed infecting his garden of flowers. The footsteps grew nearer, and yet Buddy remained still, his scaled flaps of meat hanging loosely behind him in the ground. The various pieces of jewelry Mr. Libris had used to dress him up felt like they weighed fifty tons, only further contributing to his body's exhaustion. Yet he still made no move.
Within seconds, a boy had staggered through a thick forest of bushes and twigs, stopping right in front of Buddy.
And even then, he made no move to run or hide.