Work Text:
I see Gem sitting by a dandelion. I try to hide the stinging in my wings begging me not to fly. The moment we made eye contact I think both of us shared a singular thought. What? I land as I waddle over to her.
“Well, um” I speak up, I have never known where to start conversations.
“What happened?” She inquired; a bit concerned. I make it next to her sitting rest, closing my wings tight to my body.
“Their playing more games with lies trying to trade fates calling checkmate, I don't know when this circle is going to stop sounding like a game of chess” I laugh nervously.
“Were all safe right?” Gem asked concern seeping into their voice.
“A few injured wings Atlas ribs are injured Vast has emotional scars, but what's new” I try to make the last part sound like a joke deep down knowing we all do.
“Vast’s mom is an old hag anyways” they say, connecting some of the dots as I let out a laugh.
“She always has been” I pause, “Vast tried to trade places with Mohave, but instead tried to take Vast’s magic, lucky Atlas found the book on the table and came and saved her” I say explaining with my wings.
“Are you okay?” Gem asks, turning her head towards me.
“Yeah, mean like Atlas is injured and some people's wings are messed up, and Atlas was mad at Vast for a bit, but they are fine, and the flock is fine” I say responding a bit too eager and quick to avoid the question, and too quick to look away.
“Daisy, I asked about you” she says squinting her eyes at me.
Gods, when was the last time I could say I was. No matter what I'm doing it doesn't seem perfect. My wings still aren't mine and are barely functional if you could even call it that. In the background I can hear “my parents” screaming. Asking me what the hell I was doing, why I wasn't doing good enough. Giving off punishments like it could fix anything, displine to make me fall into a line that was never made for me. I can't even remember their faces, just voices and words. Yet it still lingers over me begging to stay there. I’m not there, I'm here with Gem. Would she understand? Does she remember? She's younger than me. Could she truly have that much to remember, I barely do.
“I’m not injured” I give a cold response as a breeze trickling through the holes in my feathers.
“Mentally?” She asked, knowing the answer from the look in my eyes.
“It's been a week” I look back at her gaze, something cannot decipher.
She immediately moves closer wrapping her wings around. Ever since early January I haven’t experienced this much heat. The comfort is something I’ve lacked for a while; I can't even remember the last time I felt it this much. She's resting her head against my back. I reciprocate by laying into the hug. Part of me wants to cry, the other part just wants to give out under the weight. I let out a quiet coo. I recurrence that I was content with the touch. I get a corresponding chirp.
“It's going to be alright” Gem says as I curl in closer as if trying to hide from something invisible. I don't have the courage to respond. Gem pulls away and looks at my wings in awe. As if she saw the most shiny and prettiest thing in the world. I can hear her silently cooing at them. I start to panic slightly, which is cut off by her speaking up.
“Your wings are shiny” She slightly giggles out.
“They are? What do you mean?” I respond by trying to see them while forgetting to extend them.
“Like some of them have lil stars. I like a mini galaxy, "she says excitedly.
I freeze at the name. That's a nickname from one of my dreams. Something a friend used to call me. Who, who, who was it? Her, not his fuck I dent remember, Torch. The name Torch. I'm still looking for them, gods why can't I find them. I want my family back, I want my memories back, and I want my body right again. I feel Gem nudge me with her head.
“Yeah, thank you Gem” I sneaked a small laugh in there trying to ignore my thoughts. She picks one of my wings with her beak lightly. I flinch a bit
“You have holes in your feathers” She points out I feel my head heating up a bit in embarrassment.
“Oh, um yeah” I pause, not sure what to say to brush it off “injuries?” I say sounding like a question.
“It's not though, is it?” Gem asks, squinting at me.
“It was a bit of plucking” I mumble quietly.
“What was it?” Gem asks the concerned tone clear to any ear.
“Plucking” I say looking down.
“Stop please?” She asks. I only work up the courage to nod trying not to cry.
“I will try I swear I promise” I say looking back up at Gem.
She is younger than me, but yet we still are both kids. What am I doing? Throwing away anything I have left and hurting myself. Then suddenly the warmth of Gem is chirping at me to follow. We go to the deck near the door, where she pulls me into another hug. Her wings are warm giving me a space of non judgment. A place where I can cry. So I do, and she just stays. We stay together cuddling over the overhang like the world is falling. Like we both don't have anything left to lose because we don’t. Please to the love of all the sorcerers let me have this, let me have this friend, maybe even a sister. Please, please, please.