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“Can I touch them?”
“Parker!” Hardison hissed, even Eliot’s gaze snapped to Parker.
You looked up at her from your papers. She was staring. “Sure.” You lowered and stretched them out for her.
“Ooooooh!” Parker hopped over the couch to sit next to you and delicately ran her fingers over the feathers. “They’re so soft,” she whispered.
You smiled at her reverent expression and tried not to shiver at the delicate touch.
“Do you fly? I wish I could still fly but they cut my wings off so I couldn’t escape.”
It was like the temperature in the room dropped. Hardison might’ve gasped, Eliot’s knife might’ve slipped.
“I’m sorry. That must’ve hurt,” you said seriously.
Parker shrugged, still brushing at your feathers. “That’s why I like the vents, it’s like a hug. And bungee jumping and jumping off buildings, it’s like flying again. Makes me feel free.”
You watched her as much as you could with your wing between you. “Would you like to go flying with me?”
Parker’s head shot up with the biggest grin. “Yes! Can we go now? I’ll grab my parachute!”
“We’re planning a job right now-”
Parker pouted.
“-Why don’t we go right after, we can go out to the country, more air space, less people, that sound ok?”
She immediately smiled again when you promised to do it after the job. “Ok!” She went back to petting your wings, grooming them.
You realized Hardison was still frozen, staring at Parker, not having gone back to his computer, while Eliot was studiously chopping whatever was in front of him, but you could tell his shoulders hadn’t loosened from up by his ears.
“You-” Hardison squeaked and cleared his throat. “You had wings?”
“Yeah, and they were nice and pretty, too. Super strong. Broke someone’s arm once, before they took them away. Gold coloured, brown and white. The prettiest. I like gold because it’s the prettiest colour and I like money.” She hummed and moved her hands down your wings. “Don’t know what kind of bird they were supposed to be. They cut them off me before I realized people’s wings were like bird wings.”
“Parker…” Hardison sounded gutted.
“They had little eyes on them too. Little polka dots,” she continued.
Eliot made a strangled sound behind you that you were sure wasn’t voluntary.
“I liked them. No one else had eyes on their wings.”
“We could … we could look it up? Try and see if we can find a bird with that type of wings?” Hardison and his heart were barely holding it together with this newfound devastating news.
“Barn owl,” Eliot ground out. He’d stopped chopping his vegetables somewhere along the line.
You glanced over at him. He was glowering at the counter, stock-still.
“Huh?” Parker tilted her head at him.
“What, man?” Hardison asked.
“Barn owl wings. Gold and brown and white, yellow and tan, with black and white spots that look like eyes on the body of the wings.”
“Yah! Exactly like that!” Parker exclaimed. “Hardison, you can do your computer magic to get a picture, right?”
“Eliot?” Hardison’s strangled answer made Parker frown. “How do you know what Parker’s wings looked like?”
You saw his fists clench tighter on the counter.
“Because I’ve seen them,” he ground out.
“You have?” Parker asked curiously.
“Where?” Hardison sounded a few seconds from a breakdown.
“In Damien Moreau’s house,” he rasped.
“Ooh! They still exist? I thought they would’ve burned ‘em.”
“Damien Moreau,” Hardison whispered. You weren’t sure how here he still was.
“You think they still exist?” you asked Eliot. “Even with Moreau in prison and his assets seized and distributed and all?”
He nodded, looking angry, furious. You were sure that while a lot was directed at the world and the horrible people in it, there was a certain amount directed inwards.
“There’s a huge black market on wings and other marks. Tails, scales, tongues. Wings are the most popular, people like … wearing them.”
Hardison made a whimpering sound in horror. It wasn’t something unheard of but to still hear it confirmed? That rich and evil bastards mutilated people for their marks? To have them for themselves? It made him sick to his stomach.
“I don’t know if Moreau still had them when we got him arrested but they would’ve been liquidated very quickly after word got out that he fell, so I don’t know who might have them now. … Parker, I’m-” Eliot hadn’t looked up from where he was burning holes in the counter with his glare, he sounded gutted.
“I wonder where my wings have travelled, if they’ve gone to places I haven’t.”
“You know what this means, Parker?” You grinned at her.
“What?” She tilted her head at you.
“How would you like to go steal your wings back?”