Flying was falling with style.
It was a line from his favorite movie, Toy Story. It was his favorite line, really, and one he'd loved to say so many times when he was younger. In fact, for years he'd imagined what it was like to fly, and whether or not it really was like falling with style.
Once he'd read a book that said that flying was 'throwing yourself to the ground and missing'. It had sparked a brief period of time when he was twelve and had jumped off of the monkey-bars. Needless to say, he'd failed to miss the ground hard enough that he'd wound up with a broken arm.
And then suddenly, there was the ghost portal, and having to fight ghosts, and now...
Now he could fly.
And all it had taken was a single wish.
And he was flying. Actually flying, instead of just falling with style, or throwing himself to the ground and missing. It was beyond words. He didn't even dare to describe the wind whipping around him because that wasn't flying; When he was flying, he was the wind, going where he wanted, ducking and swerving and ruffling through entire acres of farmland, fields full of grass, trees full of leaves that were just begging to be ruffled. Flying was weightlessness (gravity what's gravity) and freedom and spontaneity, was fun and laughter and most of all flying was.
And then he stopped flying. Now he was falling, and there was no control (not the good kind that came with flying never the good kind when it was falling not flying) and there was gravity and he wasn't the wind anymore. Instead the wind was flowing all around him, battering him almost like it was mocking him, saying that he was once good enough to be considered a part of it why didn't he join the wind become free and weightless once more like he'd been before weren't they having fun?
He twisted in the air, trying to figure out which way was up and which was down, only to have his vision become a shiny glass mirror as he fell between the skyscrapers, the ground becoming closer and larger and more terrifying with each passing microsecond. In the corner of his vision, he thought he'd seen Danny fighting the wishing ghost, Desiree, and a distant part of his brain that wasn't panicking went oh because the wish was somehow undone and he'd lost his ghost powers.
Tucker doubted that this would be the time he'd miss the ground, and that this would be a failure that would be too hard and painful and permanent to come back from.