Here's a story focused on Icarus and how he recovered from the traumatic experience with the wax wings. He's so positive in the series, but he's also a bit unstable. I wondered what would happen if he swung to the other side of the pendulum. Buckle in because it's going to be a rollercoaster.

Please enjoy, and let me know what you think. Thank you for reading. Enjoy!

The freedom of the wind rushing over his face, sweeping his long hair back, made his heart soar with a new joy. He flapped his wings harder, and he flew even higher. The glorious sun shone above him, lighting up the world stretched beneath him, a vast plain of green set against the flashing blue of the ocean.

"Don't fly too high, son!" his father warned. "These are only prototypes."

The boy didn't listen. He looked across the world below, and then he looked up. He was so high, he could see Apollo's chariot. A little higher and he would be able to touch the fiery steeds.

A warm sensation spread over his arms as he flew even higher, but he ignored it. A little more! He could see Apollo's shocked expression and the horses tossing their heads… Feathers passed in front of his face, and he was so startled that he looked at the wings. The wax his father had so carefully applied, latching each feather in a specific, carefully situated place, was no longer hard. It slid over his arms in a wave, and the feathers dropped out one by one.

Panic seized the boy, and he angled himself downward, but the remaining feathers caught the wind, jerking him up and backwards. A terrified, pained scream was torn from his throat as he touched the surface of the sun. Everything caught fire, from his hair to his clothes, and he tried to tear himself out of the ball of fire that he'd so often been thankful for.

"Hang on, mortal!" Apollo boomed.

A large, strong hand jerked him out of the agony of heat, but he was still engulfed in flames, and his throat was raw from screaming. The steeds jerked, and Apollo lost his grip on the boy as he grasped the reins to steady them.

The wax was gone now, eviscerated by the searing heat of the sun. No feathers remained, and so he fell, down, down, down toward the glittering sea. The speed of his descent put out the flames, leaving him naked and raw from the full-body burns that hurt so badly. Black edged his vision as he continued to plummet, and he heard a shout.

"Icarus! I'm coming, Icarus!"

Hands gripped him, and he convulsed in agony, one final, high-pitched scream tearing from his throat.

And then there was darkness…

He awoke later, but he couldn't move. He heard sobbing. And then his mother spoke.

"This is all your fault, Daedalus! You and those stupid inventions!"

"Shut up, Tryphaina!" Daedalus roared. He sounded like he'd lost all heart. Besides, he never argued with his wife, no matter how much she poked and prodded at him. "I know this is my fault! You don't have to remind me!"

"Will he ever be okay again?" his mother demanded. "Look at him! Even the gods might not be able to save him!"

"I know, Tryphaina!" Daedalus broke off into a sob.

"I can't do this anymore, Daedalus! I can't! The inventions are too much! You just killed our son for a stupid invention! I hope you're proud of yourself!"

There was the sound of Tryphaina storming off, still sobbing. The thing Icarus was lying on shook, and Daedalus sobbed right beside the boy's head.

'No, Dadalus,' Icarus thought. 'Don't cry. I'll be okay.'

"Great gods of Olympus," Daedalus prayed. "Have mercy on my son. Forgive my stupidity. Please, heal the boy. I'll do anything. Please…"

Though Icarus's eyes were closed, he saw a bright flash of light. Two tall, imposing figures stared down at him through the clouds. Apollo pointed at him and turned to the other.

"That's him, Father. That's the one that flew too close to the sun."

Zeus rubbed his chin, tugging at his beard. "That's certainly terrible. Impressive, but terrible."

"Can we do anything?"

"Certainly. But I've never seen such wounds before. How much I can do with no experience is debatable."

"Please, Father. Listen to the boy's father. Have compassion on him. Heal him as best you can. I beg of you."

Zeus bowed his head and reached down to touch the boy. The large finger dipped down and landed on his chest. Icarus gasped in a large breath as the sensation of pleasant warmth flooded through his veins. He gazed in wonder up at Zeus then his eyes popped open and he arched back, gulping in air past his burning throat. He heard Daedalus scream in surprise and there was a thud as his father fell back.

Icarus floundered like a fish out of water as the warmth engulfed every muscle and sinew in his body, and pressure made him wail. Tryphaina burst into the room and stared in wondrous disbelief at her son, who was glowing, lightning flashing over every limb. As quickly as the spasms started, they stopped, and Icarus fell back, dazed and stunned. The room was silent, then Daedalus shouted.

"Thank you! Thank you, gods!"

And Icarus was wrapped in his father's embrace. Icarus wound his thin, trembling arms around his father, his strong, dependable father. Tears slid down his face, and he shuddered. Tryphaina fell onto her son and hugged him. Icarus closed his streaming eyes and held on to his parents.

It was the last family hug they would ever have.

While Icarus was still weak and tired, his mother went and started the proceedings for divorce, unbeknownst to Daedalus and her son. Daedalus spent every day with Icarus, helping him to get stronger.

Though he was restored to a semblance of health, damage had been done. He was stick thin, the muscles warped and twisted, and his skin was much darker than it had been before. His vision slowly came back over the days, and Daedalus was so happy that it wasn't permanently destroyed. His hair, which had been singed away down to the roots, grew stiff and wild, sticking straight out of his head and was rough as sandpaper.

The worst part was his mind. The trauma from the experience was seared into his consciousness, and he awoke every single night, drenched in sweat and screaming until his father came in to soothe him. Tryphaina would stand in the doorway, but she couldn't bear to see her son so changed from the fun-loving, joyful child he'd been to the terrified mess that he'd become.

Things only became more complicated when Tryphaina handed Daedalus a scroll after coming home one afternoon. He read the divorce notice, feeling numb, but he couldn't fight anymore. He had to save all of his fight for the life of his son. So he signed the paper and allowed her to begin to move out.

Icarus didn't understand why his mother was leaving. She told him again and again that she loved him, but that she and Daedalus just couldn't live together any longer. She asked him if he wanted to live with her and visit his father every summer. He looked at his father, who had come running every night, then back to his mother.

"I don't want you to leave. I want to be a family," he croaked.

"That's not possible, Icky," Tryphaina said.

Icarus licked his thin lips, curling his skinny arms around his bony knees. "Then I want to live with Dadalus. I can visit you in the summer."

Tryphaina pursed her lips then met her soon-to-be-ex-husband's gaze. Daedalus was surprised by Icarus's decision. He had been sure that even summer visits were not going to happen, that his son hated him for causing all of this, just like Tryphaina did. But he could handle Icarus in his delicate, troubled state. When Tryphaina asked with her eyes if this was okay, Daedalus nodded once. He understood that she needed to be away from both of them to process the change in all of their lives. Summer was months away. Hopefully, Icarus would be a little better, a bit more stable when he visited his mother. And it was settled.

Within two weeks, all evidence of Tryphaina's touch was gone from the house. All of her personal items were loaded in a cart, and she hugged her son goodbye and left for Ithaca. She had a family home there, and she wanted to start over as far away as she could. Icarus watched her go from the front door. He stood there, trembling on his thin legs and wanting to cry, but he couldn't. His tear ducts were damaged, and besides his eyes watering immediately after his healing, not a tear had fallen down his cheeks. He felt like the pain was sealed inside.

As time passed, he grew stronger and steadier. But he was an outcast amongst his former friends. They said his brain was fried, and maybe there was some truth to that. Icarus couldn't bear to look too closely at all he'd lost, but especially what was going on inside of himself. So he allowed the manic energy that filled him day in and day out to lead him along. He passed his classes with room to spare, except for gym. Gym was difficult with all of the movement he was forced to do, but he kept passing that class by the skin of his teeth.

Daedalus did everything he could for his son. But the incident with the wax wings had not left him unscathed. For two years, he didn't invent a single thing. He tried his hand at every job that came along, but he didn't succeed at any of them. Thankfully, they owned the house and the land it sat on, so they didn't have to make payments for anything like that. Sometimes food was a bit scarce, but they made it.

Each summer Icarus spent with his mother was fun and exciting. Fewer people knew he was the Icarus that flew too close to the sun, and that helped him feel more comfortable. He spent the hot days in the cool shade of his mother's house, then, as her business grew, her factories. He took great pleasure in helping her, though he noticed her sad eyes staring at him from time to time. Those times grew farther and farther apart as she got used to her son's new appearance and changed personality, but Icarus knew she was not pleased.

Other things had changed, too. While the sun was never exactly too hot for him, he didn't like being exposed for too long. He would happily be cold before he went out in the sun. Fire was something else he was terrified of. In the long, cold winter nights, the ones where he'd previously laid close to the pulsating, flickering warmth of the flames and fallen asleep without a care in the world, now he stayed back and layered himself in blankets to keep out the chill. He couldn't make any kind of hot food because that meant he'd need to get close to the fire. So his father cooked every meal, and Icarus continued to smile.

Things got better when Daedalus was offered a job as a shop teacher at the prestigious Prometheus Academy. Daedalus was hesitant to accept, but Icarus encouraged him.

"Come on, Dadalus. Don't you want to invent again? You're an inventist. I don't mind."

Daedalus spent the next few nights in anguish of mind to the point he was driven into his workshop, a place of refuge in the days before the accident. He looked around and in an instant was seized with an idea. Once the rusty gears began turning, he was off, and he accepted the position the next day on the condition that his son be accepted in the academy at no cost. It was agreed that as soon as Icarus was old enough, he would have a place in the school.

When Icarus joined the academy, he wasn't shocked that he made no friends. Most of the students were from the wealthier side of Athens, and some were even foreign students. He carved a niche for himself, and he sat alone until another outcast joined him.

Her name was Cassandra, and she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen. He was drawn to her cynicism and disinterest, but he didn't know why. He decided that she was his girlfriend, and he showered her with affection. Every rebuff was another blossom in his heart, and he continued to follow her and devote all his time to her.

As the year passed by, Icarus continued to smile through each day. He laughed and took every jab and insult without flinching. He couldn't cry, after all, so what was the point of being upset? The ache inside of him was pushed aside and lay in a forgotten part of his heart, a place he chose to ignore.

But the pain was there. He felt it in the night when he jerked awake screaming, his skin on fire from the memory of heat and pain. He longed for tears as his father made him a hot drink and sat up with him, but in the morning, the fog of his unreality obscured any and all trauma. So he wandered through the haze, refusing to acknowledge that something was wrong. And he never wanted to.

One day, he saw a new student, tall and skinny with developing muscles, red hair, and a clueless expression. Icarus always welcomed the new kids, and they'd hang out with him for a few days before finding their group. As far as he knew, this one was no different. Icarus saw him reaching for Pandora's locker, and he ran forward to slam it shut.

"Not this one!" he shouted, forcing the door shut as the miseries launched themselves out at the new kid. The boy looked startled, his wide blue eyes shocked as they traveled over Icarus. Icarus quickly stepped aside. "This is Pandora's locker," he said, half apologetically. "She's got some… issues."

The boy leaned down to gather his things. "Sorry," he mumbled. "I'm new."

"Okay. Obvious," Icarus said. "I'm Icarus."

"Hercules. Call me Herc."

Icarus grinned at him, throwing his arm around the taller boy's shoulders and giving his usual speech. He didn't expect Hercules to care for very long. He would find his group and move on, just like everybody else. But as the days went by, Hercules did not leave. He was loyal to the boy who flew too close to the sun, and he even liked Cassandra.

Icarus thought it odd, late at night when he clutched a hot drink and watched his father fall asleep sitting up, but he let it slide. He wondered how far his new, tentative friendship would go. He didn't have high hopes. But he was going to find out just how loyal Hercules, and even his beloved Cassandra, were.