"I can't believe I have my own room!"

I beamed as Speck ran around the room, hopping on the bed and oohing at the little desk and lamp provided. She opened the closet and threw herself in, coming out covered in dust and sneezing. Running over to the window, she slid it open and basked in the sunlight. She opened her arms and smiled brightly, "This is so so cool!"

I chuckled and watched as she went back to flop on the bed. She landed face first into the pillows and snow-angeled the fabric. "So comfy," she muffled before rolling onto her back with a big grin on her face. "This is so cool!" she exclaimed again. Sitting up she glanced towards me in the doorway and asked, "What about your room?"

My room was actually the guest room, and had the typical queen-sized bed and nightstand, along with a small closet full of old clothes and a vanity with a nice chair in front of it. Since we didn't have much aside from our bags, I took out the laptop and placed it there and went searching for an outlet when I heard Speck squealing in the next room.

"I got a bigger bed than you," I teased.

"No fair!" she pouted and flopped back onto her twin xl.

"Well at least you get a nice view," I walked over to the window and looked out into the world, letting out a sigh of happiness.

I never thought we would get to this point. After literally exposing what I was, mom was determined to keep me under her roof. She told me that despite all she did for James, he still left. I told her that I had a condition for staying, and she already jumped the gun and turned to hug Speck as well. Seeing her brown eyes glisten made my heart swell so much it felt way too surreal. Mom kept rambling on how she better not be dreaming, squeezed me again, then went straight to the phone to call up Dad. Dad. I had a dad as well, and by the sound of her conversation, he was coming home soon.

"This is so cool," she shuffled up next to me and stared out, watching the lady push her stroller down the sidewalk, hearing the sound of a basketball drum against the ground, feeling the carpet under our feet – it really was surreal. My insides were still leaping that I was finally home. I'll never see my old parents again, but at that thought my insides started to settle into an uncomfortable position.

How will my new parents, my actual parents, treat me? As much as I wanted to say better than my first ones, I actually hoped they were as good. My life was perfect and happy before. I remembered the trip to the Grand Canyon, my first time riding a bike, nearly everything that my mind could remember. The pinpoints, the moments, everything they used to hide what they really were, what they intended to do with me. Will my birth parents treat me as well, with, of course, the intention of just purely loving me?

"Hey," my shoulder jostled, pushing my thoughts away. Speck gazed up at me, "We're okay."

I shakily nodded, "I know we are." I placed my hand on hers and continued to gaze outside. The more I tried not to think about the bad things though, the more thoughts came flooding in. We were still on the run. What if they found us? What if ITex found us again? They wouldn't just grab us and toss us into cages. They had no use of us anymore. They would execute me, and I couldn't imagine what they would do to a renegade. My stomach twisted at even thinking of Mom and Dad. They wouldn't let them live, and I couldn't just let them die. But I couldn't just leave them, I just got here. I just got home.

"You're not okay."

I stared down at my white knuckles gripping the windowpane. I wasn't okay. Of course I was happy, but from everything that has happened to me, I couldn't just let it go. It changed me. It created me. How could I go back to a normal life? How could anybody, aside from my adoring mom, and hopefully dad, and Speck, accept me? I couldn't hide this. It was a part of me. This feeling, this gut feeling that I can't stay in one place. It wasn't safe. I didn't feel safe.

"Am-"

"How are you two doing?"

I spun to see Mom standing in the doorway, her hair tangled and eyes still red from earlier. I must have looked just like her because her face fell, recognizing I wasn't doing well at all. "Tom, your dad, should be home soon, he had to get off work," she paused, glancing at the open window. "Please... please don't-"

"We're not going anywhere," Speck jumped in just as I opened my mouth. We shared a glance before she continued. "We're just... we just went through a lot." I squeezed her hand.

"That's okay," Mom gently smiled. "We can work with that."

She then let out a breath she was holding and stated, "You two must be hungry, I'll make some lunch." With that she walked downstairs, leaving us in the room that was meant for me. Yet the more I looked at it, the more I realized it was designed for two. The paint was faded but stood out enough to see the faded blue and pink cords. The dresser was loosely bolted to the wall, and there were odd shapes on furniture that must have come from stickers. I traced the old glue on one of them while Speck sat back on the bed, creaking just the slightest.

"We can," she stared around before settling on the door. "I mean... we can get through this. We have to. It's a dream come true."

"It is," I joined her on the bed, glancing out the window again. It was a dream come true. Especially for her. She grew up in a cage for god's sake, of course she's wanted this. I can't just take that away from her, but I couldn't just put it all behind me either. She must have heard me sigh because she caught my eye and stared at me.

"I don't want to leave," her voice just on the edge of trembling.

"We won't," I kissed her forehead. "But we still have to be careful."

When dad got home I had to fight myself from pushing him away. He just wouldn't stop hugging me, holding me against his chest as he sobbed over my hair. He also was determined to keep me here and swore to never let me out of his sight. I thought that was a bit much, but maybe this was how a father felt for his daughter. He also looked like me, but his hair was a bit lighter and wore thin-framed glasses. He faintly smelled of paper, so I guessed he came from an office. He asked me everything he could think of: when I got here, how I got here, where I came from... the works. Then he asked me if I was like James.

I hung my head a little and nodded. He stiffened and looked me over, obviously curious just like mom was. So I went through the whole ordeal again. I unfurled my wings, revealed my ears and tail, and pointed out my scales that weren't tattoos. His demeanor was different than mom's.

"Those monsters," he growled.

I joined Speck on the sofa again and held her hand. At least he was in agreement with that, but he added something I wasn't expecting:

"They will pay for this."

Our eyes widened. What did that mean? Was this what James left for? Because he wanted revenge and decided to go tell everybody his story? Or was it just a front he set up? My fingers pinched my pants, wondering what to say to that. Of course I wanted justice, but that would just make things worse. He had to understand that.

"Please don't do anything," I told him. His glasses flashed as he stared at me, his eyebrows pinched in confusion. "You... you can't tell people..."

"We want them prosecuted. Kidnapping and torturing kids," he glanced at Speck and me. "It's inexcusable."

"B-"

"You went through that, you want that to happen again?" Mom cut in.

"No- of course not, bu-"

"You two are living proof, the only proof-"

"No we aren't!" Speck shouted. All eyes turned towards her, my face red in frustration as she added, "Those winged kids are already doing that; we shouldn't have to. All we did was escape. They also have the government on their side, protecting them from attacks." She fished out something from her jacket pocket, revealing a newspaper article with the title Bird Kids Fight Back and a picture of a girl kicking a flying creature. My heart skipped a beat. Wasn't that one of those flying things we ran into not long ago? "They have people, and they don't have to worry about others getting hurt."

Both Mom and Dad looked at each other, realization slowly coming to them.

"So you're saying that-"

"They will find us," I finally said, closing my eyes and briefly imagining them barging into the house, ransacking the place and not caring who they hurt... or kill. "A-And we can't protect you, not unless..."

"No," Dad shook his head. "You're not going anywhere. I can't- we can't-" He choked, not wanting to accept the idea that we would have to leave.

"We don't want to, but if you want to sell a story, we have to," I tried to keep my voice steady. "I... I don't want to put your lives at risk..."

Nobody said anything. I could hear a fly buzzing in the next room over as both mom and dad simmered over the matter. Of course they're mad, I still am. But I was also terrified of what could happen. Even being here for just a day was setting me on edge. But I didn't want to leave, they were my parents. I had to see them. I had to be with them. This, being here, was my only solace. But of course, the more safe I felt, the more anxious I felt. I covered my face with my hands. It was confusing. Stay? Go? I just wanted a break from it all, from all the running and restless nights. I needed it. We both did. The boxing match in my mind wasn't helping.

I felt arms wrap around me and opened my eyes. Mom was tightly hugging me and resting her head against mine. I shakily breathed and felt her squeeze me tighter. "We won't. We will do anything to keep you here. Anything."

The sides of my mouth turned up slightly, water beginning to pool in my eyes. I relaxed my body against hers, just wanting to not worry about it all. Wishing that everything would just stop, freeze, and let me live the life that I wanted.

"I want to be here," I muttered, feeling Mom's fingers brush my hair.

"Good," she breathed. "I want you here too." She released me and hugged Speck as well, who also had tears forming in her eyes. "And you too. You shouldn't be living on the streets. We'll take care of you."

I felt a weight lift off my chest, allowing me to breathe even more freely now. I smiled, I actually, genuinely, smiled at her. "Thanks Mom," I said, then turned to Dad. "Thanks Dad." They both also seemed to be breathing differently, as if they needed to hear me address them like that. Well of course they did. They were my parents. I was home, and I was with my family.