The thing about having wings, is that you never get used to living on the ground. It's hard to concentrate on doing your homework when your wings are just itching to be spread, especially when you've had them tucked tight to your skin all day.
It was even worse when I was a kid.
When all the other kids would go and show off their new toys, show off how fast they could run, how high they could climb, it was so hard to not just bust out my wings, take a lap around the playground to show how my muscles were already developing faster then theirs. It was hard not to jump up to the highest point of the jungle gym, then jump again and just as I reached the highest point of my arc, to snap out my wings and fly and never come back.
It's hard living here, slow, mundane, normal, on earth. It's harder when you know there's a whole other world out there, just for you
So I didn't panic when some kid walked up to me when I was with my friends, dropped a feather onto the table in front of me, stared for a moment after and left. It was almost relaxing knowing that someone else /knew/. That it wasn't a secret anymore and I'd probably be exposed now.
I didn't say anything to my friends, just packed up my stuff, grabbed the feather, /my/ feather, and followed after him. I could hear them calling after me and then could almost feel them talking behind my back, already making rumors about it, but I didn't look back. Just kept moving forwards, following the tall, pale boy in front of me.
I followed him straight out of the school by use of a back exit and into the little area where I knew people smoked in between classes. He didn't say anything at first, just pulled out a cig, lighting it and taking a long inhale. I watched as his eyes closed in relief and wondered absently if he was of age to be smoking.
I fidgeted while he took a few more puffs, trying to decide if I should just leave or not. Just as I made the first movement towards the door, he shifted to face me. I froze as clear, bright eyes pinned me, harsher then any hawk and so pale they seemed translucent.
My breath stuttered as he started to walk toward me, and I could feel a few drops of adrenaline hit my system. I suddenly wondered if it had been a good idea to be alone with this person. This person who knew more about me then any person in the world ever had while I knew nothing.
I didn't move, however, as he got closer, closer... But then he passed right by me. I blinked, confused, and watched him go, looking like he was about to leave.
Right before he reached the door he veered to the right. He grabbed at the edges of a brick and pulled, revealing a little space behind it. Reaching in and grabbing whatever it was, he whirled around to face me and advanced in that same dangerous gait.
I managed to stumble back a few steps, but he gave me plenty of space.
"Who are you?" I mentally cursed as the words left my mouth, already putting me at even more of a disadvantage to this mysterious... Kid. Now that I saw him up close, he actually looked a few years younger then me, most likely a freshman to my senior. He certainly didn't act like a freshman.
He didn't answer at first, just fidgeted a bit with the thing in his hands, which drew my attention to them. While I was trying to figure out what he was holding, he stepped even closer.
"I am William. And you are John Watson. Senior, rugby player, needs help in chemistry, and also I might mention the wings."
I gapped at him, set on edge by the strange knowledge he held.
"How do you know that stuff? Have you been following me or something?" He shifted a bit uncertainly, but then stood a bit straighter as if to make up for it and I realized he might be even younger then normal freshman.
"No, I deduced it. Just like I can deduce that you're from a poor family, you want to be a doctor, you have an older brother named Harry, and you want to go into the military, probably because of your dead father." I physically staggered back at the sudden deluge of information about my life, feeling like I had been dunked into a vat of ice water.
"How? How do you know that?" The kid looked a bit surprised.
"Your-uhm, your bag. It's a military bag, and old, patched, but well cared for. So probably belonged to someone important to you, and looking at how old it is and how worn, older figure. So, father. If he was still alive, you wouldn't bother hanging on to it, so dead, probably in battle. On the bottom left hand corner it says Harry in messy hand writing, written over another name, your fathers. So older brother, probably used the pack before you. The stitches used on the patches are actually surgery stitches, they're messy on some spots but are better on others, so you've been practicing stitching. That and you have a medical school brochure in the bag, want to be a doctor. And poor, because you are still using the pack, it's a hand-me-down from your older brother who is now in college and got a new bag. At a glance your clothes are well cared for, but very well worn and slightly baggy on you, hand-me-downs as well." He shut up, looking down and away, but was tensed like he was ready to run.
"That was... Amazing." His head shot back up.
"You really think so?" He looked incredulous, and I leant forward earnestly.
"It was brilliant! It was like magic!" He ducked his head a bit.
"It's elementary." I grinned at him incredulously.
"It was incredible. No one can do that." He shook his head quickly, a fervid expression on his face.
"Anyone could do it! Everyone sees, but they don't /observe/. How else wouldn't they notice you? Look at your wings! No one notices them, and to be honest, you don't try very hard to hide them. If anyone really /paid attention/ they would see something different. None of your friends realize that you hate them either, and really, that's obvious too. No one sees how dangerous you are either. I've seen how you react sometimes, you've been in fights. Maybe you were even trained by your father!" I watched him carry on in amusement. It looked like this was the most he's ever been listened too. I held up a hand to stop him and spoke hurriedly as his expression dropped a bit.
"Hey, let's not spill all my secrets on the first day." I grinned at him. "How did you find out about my wings anyway?" He took a large breath. "Ah, the short version for now, or we're both going to be late for class." He fell silent, then held out the object in his hands.
It was a canister. A very specific one. One that I had hidden next to a hard to reach outcropping on the face of a cliff when I had first arrived in the town. It had a feather in it, and a little notebook and pencil that I had used to write my name, but also the name I had given myself when I had been younger and full of curiosity and imagination.
I carefully slid the roll of notes back into the can.
"How did you find this?"
"I saw something reflecting light and climbed up to see what it was." I shook my head, bemused.
"You could've gotten killed."
"I'm good at climbing. I wasn't going to fall." It almost seemed like he was leaving something out, like he didn't want to say he used equipment.
"And you just assumed the feather was mine? That I had wings and wasn't just a kid with a thing for myths?"
"Oh no, I'd noticed there was something off about you for ages, then I found the can, and the tests I preformed on the feather confirmed that it wasn't any bird local to this area. Then I started finding more around the area, near the base of the cliff, but no sign that there was a bird there nesting or even nearby. I have a theory actually, that they don't like your scent, and will stay away from you and any place you go regularly."
I listened to him in awe. This kid was a genius! I distantly heard a bell and cursed once I realized what it was.
"That's the five minute bell! I have Chem, I can't be late!" I started walking and dug quickly into my bag, ripping out a sheet of paper. He hurried to catch up with me. "Listen. I need a Chem tutor, call me at this number and we can talk again after school or something."
We wound through the crowded halls, ducking around people in the way. I scribbled down my name and number, shoving the paper into his hands.
"Bring your homework too, we can talk about that too, ok?" I gave him a meaningful look which he met with an eye roll and a nod. I started off again, but stopped when he called out again.
"Wait! Wait, did I get anything wrong? I normally get something wrong." I gave him a considering look.
"Nope, you pretty much got everything right..."
"I did?"
"But Harry is short for Harriet." I almost laughed at the look on his face.
"Harry is your sister! I always get something wrong!" I just grinned as I started off again, leaving with a small wave. I felt full of energy, happier then I had been in a while without flying. I suddenly realized I was moving a bit too fast, and slowed quickly, trying to make it look like I was winded from my sudden burst of speed that had taken me through the last three hallways in a minute and a half when normally it took almost three.
I glanced back and luckily the small amount of people didn't seem to be paying much attention. I went down one last hallway, then joined the small mob of kids waiting for the teacher to open the doors. Just before the bells rang, the door opened and kids started to file in.
I stood outside for just a few moments, trying to preserve the light feeling in me. Some one else knew. I wasn't completely alone anymore. Sherlock seemed to actually like me, even though he knew of my deformity. It was an incredible feeling. I walked in the classroom knowing that 1) I was definitely failing the test we had today, and 2) this could be a good thing. A very very good thing.
