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From where Tommy is lying on the ground, he can see the whole universe spinning.
Whoever said the world didn’t revolve around them was dead wrong. This is awesome. Tommy reaches up to the sky and— and oh fuck, that hurts. Like. Really hurts.
Uh, at least looking up is easy. Yeah. Just staring up. If he squints, actually, because the sun is sending beams down through the leaves and generously stabbing his eyes.
But apart from that it's poggers.
…
Alright, fuck this.
“Dad!” Tommy shouts and he grabs a handful of leaves, dirt, and sticks before launching it up into the air. He hopes it’ll get the attention of Phil or Niki, who were probably running down the mountain as we speak, but all that happens is a stick pokes him in the eye and dirt gets into his mouth.
Tommy spits it out, jerking his head forward as a spike of pain goes down his neck. His feathers pull uncomfortably from where he was squishing his wings against the ground.
“Fuck! Gross.” Tommy groans, wiping his tongue. His head perks up when distantly, he can hear the sound of footsteps. “Over here!”
“Tommy?” Niki calls and it’s only a moment later before she’s shoving her way through the foliage of the forest. When she sees Tommy on the ground, feathers out of place and sitting in a heap, she softens completely. “Are you alright?”
“I hit my head.”
Niki doesn’t manage to get the word out before Phil comes bursting through behind her, hair out of place and a scared look in his eyes.
“What the hell happened? Mate, you were doing so well.” Phil comes running over and Tommy’s throat tightens like there’s a wedge in his chest. Phil extends his hand and Tommy takes it gratefully, using Phil’s help to pull himself up.
“I can’t fucking do it.” Tommy groans. It was harder telling Phil he didn’t want to keep trying to fly. Phil was the one person who was constantly there for him, constantly trying to teach him. He never gave up and it was a trait Tommy had looked up to. It’s what makes the failure even more sour.
“Of course you can.” Phil responds, hopeful as ever. He doesn’t get that if it was anyone else Tommy would be screaming the forest down that he’s giving up.
“No, Dad.” Tommy pushes the emotion back that was threatening to spill into his voice. “I can’t fly.”
“Don’t say that, you’ll get it eventually.” Phil placates gently, not seeing what Tommy was saying. Phil looks up through the trees, a Tommy sized hole in the leaves where he came crashing through the branches. If you were looking through it at the right angle, you could see the cliff face he’d jumped off.
“I really don’t think I will.” Tommy says and the joking tone is there, but it's impossible to hide the bitterness in his voice.
He was years behind his classmates in flying and with each day, it was getting harder to convince himself that eventually he’d learn. He was a flightless bird and there… there was nothing wrong with that.
“Of course you can do it.” Niki responds, her hand rubbing his shoulder. The fall had hurt, with the side Niki was trying to soothe stinging painfully, but he wasn’t interested in letting the pain show in front of them.
He’s practised telling Phil that he doesn’t want to keep up the private lessons a hundred times in his head.
It’s just no use. The lessons leaves him bruised and muddied, feeling worse about himself with each passing day that he can’t get himself off the ground for more than few fucking seconds.
He opens his mouth and the words stall on his tongue. It takes him a few tries to get any sound out and when he speaks, it’s not at all what he wanted to say.
“I think I hit my head.”
“We can call it for today?” Phil suggests, looking Tommy up and down. He makes a small noise when he looks at Tommy’s wings and reaches a hand out gingerly to fix his feathers back into place.
“I don’t um…” How did you tell someone you’ve looked up to your entire life for their skills in flying that you can’t fly? That you want to quit after all these years?
“Maybe tomorrow, mate.” Phil says determinedly, looking from Tommy to Niki. “We’ll get you to the infirmary for now.”
So Niki links her arm around Tommy and supports him. Her wings, white with freckles of brown, wrap over Tommy’s shoulder and there’s a sort of protective warmth that comes with it. The kind that makes him feel sleepy, like it’ll all be okay.
As they head home Phil rattles off on tips for how Tommy can improve, and even though he feels safe with both of the avians. Tommy tries to not think about the rolling nausea in his stomach at the thought of trying to fly again.
“What I’m hearing is your bad.” Techno drawls.
“It’s fucking hard!” Tommy groans and Techno hums knowingly. He threads his fingers between Tommy’s feathers, correcting the dark red things and fixing them back into place.
Tommy sharply inhales when one of the feathers twists the wrong way and Techno freezes, hands drawing back.
“Sorry.”
“‘S fine.” Tommy mumbles. Tommy spreads his wing out a little further so Techno can help reach the spots that Tommy couldn’t preen himself.
Techno continues a lot more gently than before, although he was already being very careful.
“I don’t want to keep flying.” Tommy admits and he feels Techno’s fingers change rhythm as they run through his wings.
“You should.”
“I know.” A pause. “It makes me angry. I just wanna fucking scream everytime I fail but I can’t. ‘Cos Dad and Niki are there with their stupid kind faces and their stupid kind words.”
“It’s the worst, I know.” Techno snorts, “Thinking about that, I would just bully Wilbur.”
“Yeah but he can take it.”
“True.” They fall into a comfortable silence. It was one of the best feelings in the world to have someone you trusted enough to care for your wings. They were a lot of maintenance and having a family that knew how to care for them was something that Tommy was eternally grateful for.
Every stray feather fixed is like a weight off his shoulders. A knuckle that he didn’t realise needed to be cracked.
“Y’know it took me a while to get comfortable flying.” Techno mutters, straightening a few of Tommy’s stray feathers. “Wilbur always had Dad’s attention and I fell behind my classes for a little while.”
“Yeah, but you were never years behind your classes.” Tommy chews the inside of his cheek. “And you’re comparing yourself to Wilbur before… before everything.”
It wasn’t a secret that Wilbur couldn’t fly anymore, but it was a topic they tiptoed around. He’d had an accident, Tommy knew that much, and it was during a race. He was too young to remember anything else.
Techno says shortly, “You’ll get there.” but Tommy’s heard the same thing from a hundred different people.
“Niki is a shit teacher.”
Techno stops immediately. “Say that again and you’ll never need teaching again.”
“...is that a threat?”
“To stab you on Niki’s behalf? Absolutely it is.”
“I take it back.” Tommy conceals a small smile. “But I’m serious about today. It sucked balls. I fucking hate that mountain.”
Tommy sighs letting his head swing back. A small smile spreads on Techno’s face.
“So are you concussed?” Techno asks jokingly, having overheard Phil’s fussing over Tommy earlier. Tommy bites back the urge to groan.
“ I would never get concussed. I only get bitches.”
A beat passes.
“I actually… I really hate talking to you.” Techno deadpans and Tommy laughs. Tommy treasured moments like these. They had to go back inside soon, or else Phil would send Wilbur searching for them, but for a few minutes it’s like everything else melts away.
He picks at the skin on his fingers, letting his hands rest in his lap while Techno goes through the rhythm of preening Tommy’s wings. It was like scratching an itch, offering relief after a long day.
After a pause of silence Techno looks at him in that knowing way like he could read Tommy’s mind. He raises an eyebrow, staring expectantly.
It takes Tommy two tries to get the words out.
“I don’t think I want to keep flying.” Techno sucks in a slow breath, nodding his head. “I’m not… I’m not making any progress, Tech. Every time I manage to fuck it up and I can practically feel the disappointment coming from Dad.”
“He’s so proud of you, Tommy.”
“I don’t feel that. I don’t feel his pride. I just feel how he looks at me after every mistake.” Tommy shrugs. “Wilbur does fine without flying. Would it really be that bad if I gave up?”
A look of hesitance crosses Techno's face, like he’s not sure how to say what he’s thinking.
“Wilbur does well without his wings, you’re right, but he never got over the fact he lost them.”
“I’m tired of trying to learn something I can’t.”
“You can do it.” Techno insists.
“I swear to god if you say to give it more time…”
“Why don’t you ask Wilbur to teach you?”
Tommy scrunches his nose up, making eye contact with Techno. Tommy’s face slowly drops when he realises Techno’s expression is serious.
“Wilbur?”
“Yeah. He’d do it in a heartbeat.”
“I dunno.” Tommy bites the inside of his cheek. “He’ll make fun of me.”
“You can match his energy.”
“Flying makes me all weird.” Tommy scrunches his nose up. “I get like, fuckin’ sensitive and shit.”
“I can talk to him.” Techno meets his eye and Tommy gives him a sceptical look.
After a pause where Tommy stares at Techno stubbornly, Techno rolls his eyes and extends his pinky finger.
Tommy grins and locks his finger with Techno’s.
“Promise.”
Wilbur crosses his arms, cringing at how cold the wind was today.
He hadn’t been out in the learners area for flying in forever.
He was here for Tommy, not himself obviously, but just seeing the open track and the white perimeter that kept everything contained was enough to make him think about what his time here learning was like.
Aside from the tracks and runways, there were metal platforms which rose to varying levels where students could practise their gliding or attempt flying to the platforms on the opposite side. It was about two football fields long, so the space was huge.
Of course, Tommy wasn’t using any of the proper equipment. He was standing on top of the roof of the entrance way. Hands on his hips, wings wrapped around himself to shield himself from the bitter wind.
He was looking quite proud in that smug, childish manner that Tommy had about him.
“What the hell are you doing?” Wilbur calls out, crossing his arms and moving closer towards Tommy.
“This is my starting point!” Tommy declares, arms held out from where he was standing on the roof.
He looked like the wind was going to push him over.
“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve heard.”
“Techno said you weren’t allowed to be mean to me.” Tommy retorts and Wilbur snorts.
“I didn’t say you were dumb, I just commented on what my ears heard.”
“You’re so fucking weird.”
“To avoid getting stabbed by Techno for breaking a promise, I am going to make a statement of self reflection that you are talking utter shit.”
Tommy huffs. “I’m stating that you’re a bitch boy.”
“Do you want to learn to fly or not?”
Tommy gets down from the roof rather smartly, cursing underneath his breath.
They go through all the basics that Wilbur’s sure Tommy knows already, but it’s better safe than sorry.
The motions of flapping your wings. When to have your chin tilted up or tucked down. Of walking back and forth with the wings spread out, just practising feeling the wind underneath them. It’s all to make Tommy feel like he can actually do the things Wilbur has in store and Wilbur can gauge what Tommy’s doing wrong.
But it’s going well. Everything looks fine. Tommy makes a sarcastic comment about how dumb this is and how he feels. Wilbur explains everything as they go through the motions. Once Tommy is laughing and flapping, hitting Wilbur with his wings and managing to do bunny hops off the ground, Wilbur decides he’s comfortable enough for the next step.
“I can’t.” Tommy shakes his head and Wilbur can see the smile start to drop away in slow motion.
“You can! Don’t worry, we’ll start on the lowest level.” Wilbur walks over to the smallest platform, only about five feet high. Tommy scrunches his eyebrows together, chewing on the inside of his cheek.
“Trust me.” Wilbur takes his hand and squeezes it, insisting softly. The resilience on Tommy’s face melts away and he gives a small nod, climbing up the first platform. “You’re just going to glide.”
So Tommy goes up and Wilbur walks back about twelve feet.
“I’m only gliding?” Tommy asks and the nerves are clear in his voice. He looks like he knows he’s about to fuck up but Wilbur hates to see him like that so he gives him a reassuring nod.
“Just gliding.” Wilbur holds his arms out. “If you screw it up, I’ll catch you.”
But Tommy doesn’t screw it up. His face tightens in concentration. He looks from Wilbur to where his foot was perched on the edge of the platform. Then in one quick breath he steps off and glides down.
Tommy smiles, obviously trying to hide how pleased he was with himself from Wilbur.
Wilbur didn’t mind. He wanted to see Tommy proud.
They move up to the next platform. This one was twice as high but Tommy looked a lot more confident now.
He steps off before Wilbur can take a step back and Wilbur’s heart skips a beat when he realises he’s out of position. Tommy keeps soaring and when he wobbles a bit and Wilbur can reach him, Wilbur’s hand flies out to grab his and steady him, guiding him to the floor.
He makes a mistake once but Wilbur catches him. It takes a small break and a bit of coaxing to get him back on the platform. (A lot of swearing on Tommy’s behalf that he hates flying and Wilbur swearing that he’ll get there eventually.)
But ultimately they keep moving on. They move to the next platform. And the next. He gets higher and higher up with Wilbur insisting they only practise gliding for now.
The excitement grows on Tommy’s face with each milestone that he passes.
On one attempt, he loses it at the end but he’s not upset about it because Wilbur catches him and apparently Wilbur’s horrified expression is the funniest thing Tommy’s seen in years.
“What if we try the mountain?” Wilbur suggests once Tommy is back on the grounds. His grin waivers.
“Fuck off. We’re not.. wait really? You think I can do the…” Tommy hesitates, looking towards the mountain. “The mountain? You think I’m ready?”
“Dad thought you were ready.”
“Dad also watched me fuckin’ plummet down the side of it.” Tommy scoffs, rubbing his arm. “I dunno, Wil.”
“Tommy, you’ve done so well today.” Wilbur pushes, waving his arm. “Comparing to the platform you just came down from, it’ll be a breeze.”
And Tommy believes him. He nods and Wilbur’s face splits into a smile as they head over to the mountain. He can feel the nerves rioting inside of him, twisting nauseously in his gut.
Wilbur offers reassuring words the whole way over, coaching Tommy on everything they’d just talked about.
Once he’s at the edge of the cliff, the wind coming in bursts, Tommy can’t seem to muster the same amount of confidence he had earlier. It’s like something ties around his ankle, rooting him in place.
“This is a bad idea.”
“Those are the best kind.” Wilbur jokes with a shrug. When Tommy’s face doesn’t lighten up Wilbur sighs. “You’ll be fine, Toms.”
“No one standing at the face of a cliff is thinking that it’s going to be fine.”
“Except people who can fly.” Wilbur points out and Tommy mouths the words mockingly.
“Wil, this is stupid.”
“Shut up and jump.”
“Fuck this.” Tommy goes to turn around and Wilbur grabs his shirt. “Oi!”
“Tommy, you’ve been gliding all afternoon. This isn’t any different.”
“Bitch! It absolutely is different! I’m recovering from a concussion”
“Tommy, you can do this.”
“The hell I can— fuckin’ let go of me.”
“Get your ass off this mountain and glide.”
“I will simply die.”
“Do it, no balls.”
“Don’t you try and psychology me into that.”
“Don’t be a pussy.”
“I’m not a pussy.” Tommy snaps back, shoving away from Wilbur with a flail. He flattens his shirt down, adjusting the collar. “It’s not my fault I still have a preservation instinct.”
“Sounds like something a pussy would say.” Wilbur shrugs, looking away and down the cliff.
“Eat shit.” Tommy retorts and Wilbur notices that he doesn’t walk away this time. He stands, staring down into the forest below. Wilbur knew he’d fallen through the trees and barely been able to catch himself last time but this time it would be different.
“You’re just gliding.”
“Different story, same ending. I’m not ready.”
“Tommy, I know you can fucking do this. I know it. You just need to stop treating your wings like something you have and start treating them like they’re something that’s a part of you.”
“I don’t know, Wil.” Tommy argues, still not moving from the spot.
There’s an airy hesitation where neither of them move. Wilbur stays firmly to the spot, waiting for Tommy to do something. Tommy seemed to be doing the same thing, glancing at Wilbur and then back down the hill.
“I’m not a pussy.” Tommy mutters and Wilbur snorts.
“Prove it.”
Another pause. Wilbur can practically hear the cogs in Tommy’s brain turning.
He mutters, “fucksakes, Wil.” and sucks in a breath. His wings spread out slowly, the wind pushing against the feathers before dropping down again into a calm state.
“See you at the bottom?” Wilbur asks. Tommy snorts, carding a hand through his hair in disbelief before nodding.
“Yeah, I’ll race you.” Wilbur meets Tommy’s eyes, a proud look and he claps his hands together happily. Tommy steps off the ledge.
Wilbur laughs, letting out a loud whoop as Tommy makes the step. Tommy’s wings push out instinctively like he’s sliding down the air and god, Wilbur can still perfectly describe that feeling.
Crisp, cool air pushing against you and the feeling of being weightless, just for that moment when you push up with your wings and then feel gravity tug you back down to Earth.
Like the ruler of the skies. The centre of everything. Wilbur wishes he could reach up and touch those clouds just one more time.
Tommy looks ecstatic at how it’s going, a smile wider than his face, eyes gleaming with joy as he looks over at Wilbur, a laugh bubbling out of his chest.
“I’m doing it! Holy shit, I'm doing it!”
“Keep going, Toms!” Wilbur shouts, a hand cupped to his mouth as he races down the mountain. He moves down haphazardly. He’s pretty much the only one in the village who doesn’t have wings so Wilbur knows this route inside and out. It didn’t matter if he went skidding down the side and took a shortcut. The only person he’d be risking is himself.
Tommy’s laugh echoes out as he kicks his feet around in the air, red wings spread like a parachute as he goes downward. He starts to get bold and flap a few times, with Wilbur keeping a watchful eye on him. Half of his mind is on Tommy and the other on where he’s taking his next step.
But then the wind picks up. It sweeps through Wilbur, cold and bitter. Biting into his skin and rattling his bones. Wilbur looks up at Tommy instinctively, watching as the boy goes from laughing to a serious look. He’s blown off course, barely managing to steady himself with a concerned yell.
“You’re okay!” Wilbur promises and Tommy gives a nervous chuckle.
“Wil—” The wind his, this time blowing Tommy completely off his course. It forces him down and Tommy panics, flapping his wings. He pushes himself upwards once. Then twice. His heartbeat pounding in his throat while he tries to find his balance.
“Focus Tommy!” Wilbur yells and when Tommy takes a sharp drop, barely catching himself with his wings, he lets out an involuntary gasp.
“Fuck!” Tommy shouts, arms thrown out as if that will help him stay steady. His wings beat against the wind, pushing and forcing themselves to move Tommy in any direction that got him out of the way. “Wil, help!”
Wilbur watches with horror.
Tommy cries out as he falls. A wedge forcing itself in his throat and choking out any of the words.
Wind thrusts Tommy into the rock wall of the mountain and he lets out a shredded scream. The wind fades for a moment, like a tide rocking in and out and Tommy manages to make a dive for the forest, zipping away from the mountain.
The tree branches move and shake as Tommy goes crashing down out of sight.
Wilbur can’t even fly after him.
The thought sticks to him like nothing he’s ever experienced. There’s not a second that goes by before Wilbur is shooting along the path which leads down the mountain.
“Tommy!” Wilbur shrieks and he’s abandoned all caution. He’s sprinting downhill as his legs ache and his lungs burn. He was okay, he had to be okay. He’d survived that fall before, granted from much closer to the ground, but it was Tommy.
He was always okay.
Wilbur rips through foliage on his way down. He tugs on the leaves in his way and yanks branches out of his sight. The grass seems to rattle as he cuts through it, a path clearing as he moves swiftly.
“Tommy?!” Wilbur shouts. The ground comes to a flat stretch.
Trees poke up through the soil and Wilbur weaves between them, using his hands to boost himself through the area. He nearly trips on a root, scrambling forward.
He doesn’t stop, not for a second. Not when Tommy could be hurt.
“Tommy, where are you?!” Wilbur spins around, staring out as every angle he looks out towards seems to merge together. He slows down, chest heaving with effort as he strains his ears for any kind of reply.
Faintly, to his left, he can hear a rustling amongst leaves. Barely audible shifting. A crunch like dead leaves being broken.
“Tommy?” His voice is hoarse.
As Wilbur inches closer, what he hears in response is a slight sniffling noise. Wilbur pushes past the trees blocking his visions and sees Tommy, knees brought to his chest and one of his wings resting limply against his side and the ground.
Tears were running down his face and he was taking short gasping breaths.
“Oh god, Toms.” Wilbur murmurs, coming towards him.
“I’m hurt.” Tommy chokes out and as he stands he makes a pained noise in the back of his throat.
He wobbles on his feet shaking his head and stretching out a hand so Wilbur can’t come any closer.
“What happened?”
“The wind— you lied, I wasn’t ready.”
“Fuck, Tommy, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realise—”
“You lied!” Tommy sobs, clutching his injured wing. He takes a few steps back and Wilbur’s throat tightens. He can imagine the wing pain so vividly. Like a second body, he can imagine how the wing must have strained, pulling back too quickly and then being launched out of place.
“What?” Wilbur asks, voice quiet. “Tommy—”
“You fucking lied, Wil!” Tommy shouts. It rocks Wilbur to his core. It leaves him feeling hollowed. “You said it would be okay, that was nothing like how you said it would be!”
“Tommy, I’m… I’m sorry, I thought you had it under control.”
“Thought I had it under control? I fucking— I knew I wasn’t ready.” Tommy stutters between tears. “I knew it and you told me to try anyway.”
“I didn’t think—”
“No you didn’t! You never fucking think! You just wanted me to fly because you can’t.”
“Tommy…”
“No, it’s true! You’re just— just pushing your fucking mental shit onto me! I don’t need to learn how to fly, I don’t want to learn how to fly and I sure as shit won’t be doing it with you.”
“I’m not pushing anything onto you, I’m trying to help.” Wilbur denies, squeezing his hand into a fist. “I was trying to show you that you could glide. I just wanted you to be more confident!”
Wilbur reaches out and Tommy jerks back, anger flaring in his eyes.
“Stop!” Tommy’s voice breaks and he takes a shaky breath, holding his wing in place. “I want to quit.”
“You’ll learn with time.”
“I’ve given it time! I’m fucking tired.”
“You were so close.” Wilbur whispers, trying to bring back some of that encouragement. Tommy just lets out a little wet laugh.
“I will never be close. I’m not fucking doing this anymore.” Tommy turns, tears leaving trackmarks down his face and starts to walk away.
“Tommy please, let me take you back.” Wilbur watches as Tommy storms off and he takes a few small crunching steps towards him. “We’ll go to the infirmary.”
“Leave me alone!”
“We don’t have to do anymore today.” Wilbur reaches out to tap his shoulder but grazes his wings instead and Tommy flinches harshly, pulling away with a sharp intake of breath.
“Ah, fuck!” Tommy yelps and Wilbur pulls his hand away like the touch burnt him. Christ, he was injured. Tommy had gotten hurt because of him. Because of something he’d encouraged Tommy to do.
“Tommy, you’re injured.” You could hear the guilt in Wilbur’s voice, raw and fresh. You could hear it in the same way you could hear Tommy’s hurt.
“I know.” Tommy rasps and he doesn’t look Wilbur in the eye. “Just… just give me a few minutes.”
“Tommy, I’m sorry.”
“Please?”
Wilbur chews the inside of his cheek and nods. Every bone in his body screams out for him to go comfort his brother but if Tommy wanted space, Wilbur would give it to him.
It pains him to watch Tommy walk off but he stands rooted to the spot, waiting for him to come back.
Just a few minutes.
But then the minutes tick by. Wilbur shifts his weight from foot to foot. He tilts his head and takes a few paces before going back to the spot so Tommy would know exactly where to find him.
After a few more minutes, Wilbur nervously walks towards where he saw Tommy last, arms crossed against his chest.
He can’t see him. As far as he can see through the trees, it’s empty. Foliage and greenery, obscuring views. Every branch that waves in Wilbur’s vision makes him think Tommy is right around the corner.
Wilbur calls out. He rubs his palms against his pants. The sun sets. He can’t find him.
He’s lost Tommy and it’s dark, it’s cold, the forest isn’t always safe at night.
He’s never gone home in such a panic, slamming the front door open whilst next to tears.
“He’s gone.” Wilbur rushes out, moving through the house like a hurricane. Techno was sitting on a stool, sharpening an axe but he’s standing up, concern weighing down his brow the moment he sees Wilbur.
“Who?” Techno asks.
“Tommy, he— I lost him. I don’t know where he went. I pushed him— I said it would be okay, and it wasn’t. It wasn’t at all…” Phil is the one who stops his panicked rambles.
Who plants himself in front of Wilbur and grabs both his arms.
“Where did you see him last?” Phil’s voice is clear, soothing. He’s holding Wilbur’s eye despite the fact Wilbur is shaking his head and taking quick rapid breaths.
Wilbur can’t get the words out. They’re stuck inside his throat like something terrible.
“The forest.”
Techno’s grabbing a lantern and heading out the door before Wilbur can even get a word out.
Techno had gone west and was miles out, taking to the sky and flying over head. Wilbur had the most experience navigating the forest and had gone the most dangerous route, hoping Tommy wasn’t in that direction. Phil had gone in one straight line.
It takes hours, but they find him eventually. Phil finds him, that is.
Phil freezes up when he finally finds Tommy. Sitting by the river, sitting in a bundle with his wings wrapped around him. One of them was slightly extended and Tommy was clearly moving his hand along the feathers. Phil hears him make a small hissing noise as his hand goes over one spot and his heart jumps.
“Tommy?” Phil announces his presence quietly and Tommy’s head snaps up and he looks over his shoulder.
He doesn’t stand, though. Or run. He just stares, wide eyed, trying to calculate Phil’s next move. “Hi mate.”
After a few seconds of silence, Tommy pulls his eyes away and looks back at his wings.
“Hi.” He mumbles.
“What happened?”
“I fell.” Tommy smiles bitterly. “Again.”
Phil swallows thickly, nodding his head and moving over to Tommy’s side. He sits down next to him, crossing his legs and placing the lantern next to him.
“You scared Wilbur.” The words sink in over a few seconds and Tommy shifts uncomfortably but manages a nod.
“I know.” He whispers. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright, mate.” Phil shrugs, bumping Tommy with his shoulder playfully in the hopes of getting a small smile. “Why’d you run off?”
Tommy picks at the skin around his fingers. “I yelled at Wil.”
“Yeah?”
I didn’t mean to! It just— it all just built up and I couldn’t push it back. I couldn’t stop myself.”
Phil nods and tells Tommy he understands. That Tommy was hurt and frightened and needing to take his feelings out on someone. Tommy doesn’t seem to look much more at ease, but he certainly looks more tired.
“I can’t fly, dad.” Tommy murmurs, not making eye contact. “I don’t want to keep trying, either. I know that I should be able to and that I should want to, but I can’t. It’s like— like something inside of me is broken. I hate flying. Everytime, I get hurt. Every single time.”
Phil’s heart breaks at the words and he wraps his wing around Tommy, letting Tommy’s head gently fall onto his shoulder.
“You are not broken.” Phil swears. “And if you want to stop, you can stop. I don’t want you to keep getting hurt because you feel like you need to keep trying. An avian with wings who can’t fly is still an avian. Do you think Wil’s any less of an avian without his wings?”
Tommy’s wings puff up and then shrink down as he thinks.
“Wilbur could fly at one stage, though.”
“And now he can’t, but he’s still a brilliant flight teacher. Tommy, you don’t need to be able to fly. You still have all your instincts. You’re still you.”
“Yeah but I really wish who I was was someone who could fly.” Tommy chuckles weakly. “I can barely glide successfully even though you’ve tried so hard to help me.”
“That’s okay. If you don’t want to keep learning, you don’t have to.”
Tommy turns and locks eyes with Phil, emotion shining in his eyes.
“I just want to make you happy.”
“Toms, you make me happy. Every day. With or without wings. Flying or falling,” Phil pokes him jokingly and Tommy grins. “It doesn’t matter to me. What does matter to me is that we get you home, and we warm you up by the fireplace and make sure your wing isn’t injured too badly.”
Tommy’s eyes drop down when he mentions the wing injury but he manages a small nod. They both stand up, with Phil guiding Tommy home.
About half way back, Tommy hesitates, a question dancing on the tip of his tongue and Phil gives him a knowing look so he breaks the silence.
“Are Wilbur and Techno at home?”
“No, they’re still searching.” Phil laughs. “But they’ll find their way back pretty quick.”
Phil’s right, because of course he is, and Techno and Wilbur come home later that night. Techno walks through the door, sees Tommy, sighs deeply and whole heartedly, then ruffles his hair as he walks past. He walks off to bed muttering how he’s happy to see him and looking tired in usual Techno fashion.
Wilbur freezes, looking a lot worse for wear and stands opposite the room to Tommy, not knowing what to say.
Tommy swallows hard, biting down on his tongue.
“I’m sorry.” Tommy barely manages to get the words out before Wilbur is pulling him into a hug, squeezing him tightly and strategically avoiding Tommy’s injured wing.
“Don’t be sorry, I’m sorry.” Wilbur responds and Tommy deflates, hugging him back.
In a weird kind of way, Tommy realises that this is all he needs. Just his family and their support. Wilbur was content without flying and Tommy has never thought that Wilbur was any less part of the family because of it. Why should they think the same about him?
He’s comfortable like this, on the ground. Surrounded by the people he cares about. Isn’t that all that really matters?