Tracy loved the human holidays.
It was the most unusual experience for him, to begin celebrating things like Easter for the first time in nearly four hundred years with Rae and her family, but it was intriguing as well. He loved participating in the odd festivities and spending time with the family. They were more than welcoming of him, even after the nervous habits he adopted after his last stay on The Human Plane. They made sure they were careful around him, and knew to take it slow, tried their hardest to make him feel safe and normal.
Of course, this behaviour died down over the course of a few years. He gradually became more and more comfortable, less jumpy and less paranoid.
By the time Michelle was born, the frantic demeanour had all but disappeared. He was able to go back to The Human Plane. Sure, it evoked unpleasant memories, things he would have preferred to leave in the dank cellars of his mind, to rot in forgetfulness, but he pushed those thoughts aside, fought them constantly when they reared their angry heads.
Of course, they continued to celebrate Christmas every year, though they eventually stopped going to Rae's world to celebrate. Her family was taken from her, after four or five decades, and neither saw the need to go back to The Human Plane, especially once Michelle's wings came in. They saw it as too much of a risk. While He, Rae and baby Lucas were all wingless, Tracy wasn't willing to put his daughter in such danger.
But time passed, nearly twenty years since her wings came in, and he could tell that his wife was getting a little homesick, longing for the traditional feeling of Christmas from her time on the Human Plane. The winter months there would get cold, where as, in Fairy Land, winter was virtually non-existent. She longed, perhaps not for snow, but for the opportunity to experience Christmas in the atmosphere she grew up in, where she cherished the holiday, where it truly meant something.
He waged an internal war when a co worker, a wingless fairy like himself, who could get easily around on the Human Plane without discrimination or fear, told him about the Ice show that stationed itself in his wife's home town every year. He and his fiancée were going to go, and he suggested it might be nice, to take the kids to see real snow! Tracy wondered why Rae had never mentioned it. She shared so many fond memories of her time with her family, and it was almost a shock to him that she'd left out the annual Ice show. After some reasoning, he deducted that she'd pointedly avoided mentioning the show to keep him from doing exactly what he was doing then. Still, he didn't mention it to Rae until he had decided, until he was absolutely sure that his decision was plausible, that - yes - they were going.
—-
It was a wonderful bout of nostalgia for Rae, to be back home, in the cold weather after such a long time of constant spring. The Ice show was a good twenty below freezing, and Michelle had been completely enamoured by the way her breath became visible in the cold air. Still, the cold was a tricky thing to master, as it was a sharp, dry cold. It had turned out that the little girl's mittens were far too big for her, falling off of her hands on more than once occasion; Tracy had taken Lucas to get Michelle a smaller pair.
The exhibit itself was massive, separated into several rooms, each themed differently. The one they happened to be standing in was a spectacular ice-recreation of a downtown park, with tall, slim lamp posts that reflected the light around them, a bench or two that was rather too cold to sit on properly, and an ice skating rink in the middle of the room, the barrier of which was one of the only structures in the room that was not sculpted of ice.
Rae leaned against the wall separating the ice rink from the walk. "I used to love coming here, every year my mom and dad would take me, and we'd skate together. How about it? Let's find daddy and we can all -" The woman looked down, her stomach dropping into oblivion "Michelle?" she called, her voice materializing in front of her in her panic. She spun, gaze sweeping across the confines of the tent. "Michelle!"
There was no answer. Her heart pounded in her chest as she spied her husband, ducking back into the temperature-regulated tent with Lucas and a smaller pair of mittens for the little girl who was nowhere to be found. "Tracy! Tracy, she's gone!" she cried. "Michelle!"
The man gave a start, his blood running colder than the ice. Everything ached at once as fear coursed its way through him; scars that hadn't hurt in years suddenly burned against his skin as he thought of her, alone here of all places, young and vulnerable. He grabbed hold of his wife, trying to stabilize both of them at the same time. Shimmering tears appeared at the edges of her eyes and formed thin tracks of ice on her flushed cheeks as they fell. "We'll find her; I'll get the security." he placed a kiss at her forehead, forced and frantic, before handing their son to her and shooting off, thankful for his tall frame as he was able to see over the crowd, able to search for his daughter. The heavy yellow parkas that everyone wore did not help matters - it made each person indistinguishable from the next, but she was his daughter for Mab's sake. He'd know. He would know.
There were exclamations of annoyance and shouts of anger as he pushed his way through the crowd. He laid one hand on a man's shoulder to ease him out of the way and hissed, drawing back, stumbling and clutching at his open palm. Sitting in the middle of his palm was a neat red dot, a burn on his skin. And iron burn. Wide eyes flickered to the man's parka, which had two large metal clasps holding the collar down to each shoulder. Every parka had them, even his own. When the realization hit, he quickly shed the garment, burning skin the only thing protecting him from the below freezing temperatures within the exhibition.
"Hey, buddy, you allright?" he heard. His gaze snapped from the shed coat on the ground to the man he'd tried to move from his path. He didn't respond - perhaps he couldn't, he didn't think to try - but merely chose a safer spot on the parka to take a grip on, and pushed past him and his girlfriend. His breathing picked up as the burning sensation on his palm remained. She had to be safe. They had to find her, because she was a Faeid, and would be ruined in this world. He had to protect her.
—-
Michelle had been swept away by the torrents of people who had exited the rink. They'd pushed and shoved and nearly trampled her out of their way, with them, and before she knew it she was away from her mother, an ever-increasing sea of people separating them. She tried to step around them, to get a better view of her mother, but every move she made only seemed to drag her further away, like a rip tide. Rae disappeared into the scores of people, an identical yellow-clad figure among dozens and dozens.
Michelle panicked. Almost instantly, she cried out for her mother, her tiny, shy voice lost under the din of Christmas music and the ambient noise of the people. She knew a hopeless cause when she saw one, and turned to exit the tent, to find her father. She knew he'd left only moments ago to switch out the gloves. She pushed past the heavy plastic drape of the tent and was dismayed to find another sea of yellow figures, all tromping about nearly identical to one another and very confusing, as she was so tiny, and they seemed to tower over her. Not in the way her parents did - these figures towered over her maliciously, purposefully hiding her from her parents, and vice versa.
Her vision became clouded by tears of distress, and her voice lowered, coming out in a choked whine as she spun around, looking desperately for her parents. The blush rose to her cheeks as she became too warm with the parka on.
She took three steps, not truly watching where she was going, but trying to watch the faces of the adults who passed her, hoping one of them would be familiar, and ran into someone, tumbling in a heap at their feet. She fought to untangle herself and run away, but there was soon a pair of hands on her shoulders, trying to pry the parka away from her small body, and she refused, flattening her wings against her back and trying to get away.
The strain became too great, the pain in her back blossoming. Daddy had told her that it was possible to retract her wings, he'd told her that sometimes it might be necessary, especially when here, in Mommy's world. But he'd told her that it could be dangerous, if done for too long. He told her not to do it unless she absolutely had to.
She had to.
The person picked her up, and she could tell it was not either of her parents - it just felt wrong - and rested the young girl on the hip, taking to unbuttoning the parka. Michelle stopped struggling, unable to, for the heat of the coat and the pain in her back caused her to slump forward, resting her cheek against the adult's shoulder, breathing heavily. A hand ran up and down her spine in a comforting sort of gesture, but retreated quickly upon feeling the odd protrusion of the girl's wings.
Michelle fell asleep.
—-
She was taken into the lady's restroom in the building, where the woman made sure that there was no one else in the room before locking the door and leaning against the sink counter, cradling the young girl. It had been an accident - she'd merely meant to help a little lost girl find her parents. What she hadn't expected to find was a fairy.
She'd always believed in fairy tales - stories of the fantastic and the supernatural, of things that no one else believed in. She'd always believed they they were around without anyone knowing, and this seemingly young child was proof.
She removed the fairy's parka carefully, watching as her wings sprang forth, beautiful purple gossamer wings that, for all their majesty, did not seem as if they would very well support the fairy's frame in flight. This was a curious thing, for what was the point of wings if not to fly? Of course, she was working under the assumption that Michelle was not a child, but an adult that only looked like a child - a concept not uncommon in the human's perception of fairies.
At any length, she knew that she had to get the little fairy out of there - a public place, with so many to be frightened or resentful, was no place for her, where she could be hurt so easily. At the very least, until she came to, Jennifer would take the responsibility of the winged girl unto herself; she would protect her.
She removed her own parka and her jacket, draping it over the girl's shoulders to conceal the wings to an acceptable degree, and took up the two yellow parkas, intending to return them to the front desk and bring the poor fairy home, where she would give it time to recover from the shock, let her know she was safe and help her find her way home.
—-
Rae began shaking. It had been a half an hour at least since Michelle had gone missing. Tracy was off trying to find her, and the crowd was growing steadily as the day outside became hotter and hotter. She ran through the crowds, calling her daughter's name to no avail. Though she did not know it, Michelle was long gone, heading at some fifty miles per hour into the heart of Mesa, where Jennifer lived.
There was a shout from the crowd, and the sudden, familiar feeling of Tracy's arms around her, her cheek pressed to his chest. She could feel him trembling as well and knew that he was terrified. For her to be so scared for her child, yet for him to know first hand what could happen to her here, was overwhelming for the both of them. The state of the other was enough to tell each that she was no where to be found. They remained for the rest of the night, watching the crowd thin, each human leaving and clearing the room. They remained until everyone was gone, until nine o clock when the building closed and the lights were turned off until the next morning. They remained on the steps of the place, not knowing what to do next but hold each other and try to let the other know that it would be okay, that they would find her, that she would be allright.
They both knew they were lying.
—-
Michelle woke up some hours later, much after it had gotten dark out. She was comfortable, though cautious of her surroundings. This place, this house was not familiar, and with the slow dread of realization, she recalled what had happened at the centre. Clutching the covers, she began to worry, to become fearful of the warm house she found herself in. Her eyes were wide as she tossed the blanket back, swinging her legs over the side of the couch and sitting upright, glancing around the room to come face to face with the woman who stood in the doorway directly in front of her.
Michelle's wings flapped absently, preparing for a flight attempt so that she could escape at a moment's notice. She may have been young, but Michelle was not dumb by any means. She knew that this was dangerous. She'd been told about how humans would be, how they wouldn't know how to react, so would be violent and mean instead. She knew that her wings, her heritage was dangerous, and she knew that this woman, standing in front of her, was as well.
Jennifer clearly saw the fear in the fairy's eyes. She smile gently, taking a deep breath. "I'm not going to hurt you. Are you feeling better?" she asked, hoping to elicit a response from the girl. A simple nod of the head. "That's good," she responded. "Mind if I come sit down?" Michelle thought for a moment, then nodded her head, allowing the woman to enter her own living room and sit next to her. She noticed how the woman didn't seem to want to take her eyes off her wings, and became distressed, fidgeting uncomfortably and batting her wings, a natural reflex that was a clear sign that she needed space.
Jennifer knew the signs and meanings, if only from birds. It was an instinct, she was sure - the little fairy probably had no idea she was doing it, but she would respect the needs of the fae all the same. She scooted backwards, towards the opposite end of the couch, and the girl seemed confused by this. Jennifer gave another smile. "So," she said, hoping that her voice was gentle enough, not betrayed by the excitement she felt. "You're a long way from home, aren't you?"
—-
They remained on The Human Plane that night. They didn't let go of one another all night, even if it was as little contact as a hand on the knee. They needed it, to know that the other was there, to know that they each still had their anchor and, as long as they had that, they would be allright. They would find her. They lay in bed together after lying Lucas down to sleep, as close as possible, neither saying a word. They had to wait - that was all that was left to do, they'd been told. Neither parent accepted that as an answer. They wanted their little girl back, but there was nothing to do in the dead of night but lie awake and pray that she was safe.
Tracy rubbed his hand along the curve of his wife's back, trying to comfort her into a sleep - in the end, it was a fitful one, but one all the same, and that's what mattered to him. He was resigned to lie there awake until exhaustion blanketed his body. He knew he would not be able to fall asleep unless it was because he couldn't stay awake any longer. Too many things were running around his mind for him to rest, too many memories, nightmares of his time held captive that, no matter how hard he tried to forget, to tell himself that it was long over and that he was safe, remained, burned in the forefront of his mind like the old iron burn that remained on his stomach.
His little girl was in danger because of what she was, more than he ever was because of her wings. If someone had found her before them, would they treat her kindly, despite the wings, despite her inhumanity? Of course not. He dreaded to think what would happen to her if someone found her, and tried to put it from his mind, but every time he closed his eyes he saw ghostly images of larger men dragging her away in restraints, oblivious to her pleas, the cried of a child as they forced her into submission with any number of things. Tracy knew that it would not take much to have her behave - a stern talking to was the most either parent had ever needed - but these people did not, and fear and misunderstanding makes people do rash things.
He turned over, away from his wife, and tried to curl in on himself. What was the alternative? To have Michelle still wandering, terrified and just as susceptible to harm. He wanted her to be safe, he wanted her to be back with them.
The smallest of noises passed his lips as he shuddered, curling tighter and moaning. There was movement from behind him, and he froze, fearful now that he'd woken Rae up. He held his breath and prayed that she would go back to sleep.
There was a hand brushing at the side of his face, running through his hair. "We'll find her, safe and sound." he heard, and he turned over to face her, taking her into his arms and holding her; she was forever reassuring, and he took comfort in her warmth, her solidity, and fell asleep.
—-
Jennifer came back into the living room with two steaming mugs, sitting down next to the child and handing her a cup. "How's that?" she asked, as the young girl took a sip. She was surprised to hear that the fairy had more or less of a normal diet - subconsciously, she'd been under the impression that fairies lived off of something odd, like cream or flower nectar, the latter of which she felt a slight embarrassment for thinking. It was obvious just by the fairy's size that she did not live off of flower nectar. The fact that, upon being asked, the girl had requested tea, struck Jennifer as odd, but she obliged nonetheless. The fairy had explained that her parents made tea all the time, and it was a common beverage around their house.
At the mention of a house, Jennifer's mind automatically conjured an image of a small home constructed from toadstools and leaves. This was perhaps more ridiculous than the notion of her diet.
The girl nodded and thanked Jennifer, but otherwise seemed very reserved. Of course, she had every right to be, having been so far from home, wherever that may be, and largely in a world that could mean her death if she weren't careful. She quietly reassured the fairy that she was safe here, and asked her name.
Her wings beat gently as she muttered her name, too afraid of her human host to object. "Michelle."
"Michelle," the woman repeated. "That's lovely. I'm Jennifer." she offered, "What are you doing all the way in Mesa?"
She stared into her cup before answering. "Mum used to live here. She and daddy took me to see the ice. We don't get winter where we live."
"Where's that?" he asked. This was the first time that the notion of Michelle being a child crossed the woman's mind.
Michelle shifted uncomfortably. "Fairy Land. It's not around here. You have to do magic to get there and it's really hard."
Jennifer nodded. "I'm sure it is." she said, a subtle dread creeping over her. She'd taken the girl from the ice show, thinking that she was an adult fairy, in need of help and home, not a child whose parents were in the self same building! Her stomach somersaulted inside of her, and she set her mug on the little glass table at her side. "I'll tell you what. I'm sure your parents are very worried, but it's very late. How about we call them in the morning. Do you know your parents' number?" Michelle thought hard; she'd learned her mother's number not too long ago, and could recall it easily, but her mind was clouded by fear and fatigue, and she pressed her lips together, her face scrunched up. "That's okay. We'll think of it in the morning. You can come with me, if you'd like. There's an extra bedroom upstairs. The couch can't be too comfortable, with your wings. Come on." she took the little girl's hand and led her up the stairs, to a closed white door.
Inside was a bedroom not unlike her own back in Fairy Land. the walls were a soft pink, and all around were shelves of figurines, little fairies that sat happily on toadstools or danced around a daisy. Michelle couldn't help but smile at the little dryad statues; it was almost like a part of home.
The bed itself was comfortable, but cold and stiff, as if no one had laid in in for some time. The feeling drove shivers down the girl's spine, but the feeling gradually passed as she lie down herself to sleep.
—-
Rae woke to Tracy, the next morning, a grim frown set on his lips and his striking aqua eyes under set by dark circles. He raised a hand to her cheek, thumbing away the tears that had slipped down her face upon waking, shed in her sleep. Each could see the night that the other had had, desperate and fearful and unable to rest.
He threw and arm over her and held her closer, ducking his head into the crook of her shoulder and stroking her hair, trying to comfort her.
From the table on the other side of the hotel room, the phone in Rae's purse rang.
—-
Jennifer had woken Michelle up early, telling her that they were going to call her parents now, that she was going to go home safe.
The number had rung twice before a man had picked it up, and the tone of his voice was enough to tell the woman that it was the right number.
She'd thanked him and turned to look at Michelle, who was sitting across from her with a bowl of cereal and a spoon clutched in her tiny hand, and winked at the girl, letting her know that she would talk to her parents soon.
The woman, Rae, was choking back tears. Jennifer could hear it in her voice, even over the phone. She apologized to the distraught mother for taking her child from the convention centre, she didn't know.
Rae wasn't sure what to feel towards the woman. There was seething anger that she'd taken Michelle, but there was gratefulness that she'd kept the child safe, only having taken her with good intentions.
"I do know, however, about your daughter's… uhm… Michelle's wings."
Rae swallowed hard, glancing fearfully at her husband, who was currently getting dressed, readying to go get his daughter. This is what he'd been afraid of. This is why he'd protested bringing her to the Ice show, because he was afraid that someone would know, that they would try to hurt her. He was so resentful of this world, fearful of it and fearful for his safety and the safety of his family.
She told the woman that it was normal, it would be explained when they got there.
—-
It was a short twenty minute drive to Jennifer's house, though every mile seemed like an eternity for the parents. They'd been assured that their daughter was safe, that they'd wait for them to get to the house, that nothing was going to happen, but there was still that unnerving dread. Tricksters, brutes, liars, he thought bitterly, the scars on his stomach burning.
He rested a hand on his wife's shoulder as she drove, jaw clenched tightly and sick to his stomach. He didn't try to fool himself - he was scared. He was frightened for his family because he knew first hand what could happen. His heart hammered in his chest and his breathing came out shakily, the weight in his torso too great for him to breathe properly.
—-
The doorbell rang, and Michelle looked up from where she and Jennifer were sitting in the living room. The woman got up immediately to answer the door, instructing the little girl to remain on the couch. While she was more than eager to see her parents, Jennifer told her that there was no guarantee that it was them; better to be safe than sorry. And thus, she alone went to the door.
Standing on her porch was a young couple. The man was very wide eyed and loomed over her, coming in at something she guessed was around seven feet tall. She had to tilt her head back to look up at him. His hands wrung together incessantly in a show of nervousness that struck pity into her. His counterpart, his wife, was nearly two feet shorter than him, eyes darting about frantically, searching the face of the woman standing in the doorway. She held a baby at her hip, probably no more than three.
Jennifer frowned at the couple. They certainly did seem genuinely distressed for their daughter.
However, they were also all human.
Her frown deepened. "Who are you?" she asked, her voice toneless as she looked the two over, her form blocking the doorway, although they could clearly hear the telly on inside.
Her voice struck a chord of anger in the man, who drew himself up to his full height and, chest heaving, asked for his daughter. How dare she? How could she possibly find the justification to withhold their daughter? Did she not know, did she not clearly see the distress and distrust? Did she not care that she'd taken their little girl from them?
Rae's fingers laced between his before he curled them into a fist, and started forward. "Please," she said. "We just want Michelle."
When the woman spoke, Jennifer could hear the tone of ugly distress, the sadness and the fear. She could hear a mother's concern, and - despite the fact that these two were almost certainly not parents to a fairy - she felt a pang of pity. "The wings," the woman said, her voice softened, now, holding a sympathy for the 'parents' that she hoped appeased the man. He was rather intimidating. "I'm just trying to protect her. How are you her parents if you're both human?"
"I-I'm not," he breathed, his face paling and arms folding across his stomach. "I'm a fairy, a wingless fairy, please. Please, where is she?"
She stared at him in shock for a moment, to see his demeanour change so suddenly. It hit home with her more than her mother's inflections did, for him to be so frightened of her, and she pressed her lips together and nodded sharply, turning and leaving the doorway for a moment to beckon to the young Faeid.
She peeked around the corner wall uncertainly, shy thing that she was, but the moment she saw her parents, standing in the door fearful and bedraggled for the events of the last day, she darted forward, her wings fluttering in excitement as they embraced her, lifted her up and covered her in kiss after kiss. She could hear her mother crying softly into her hair between kisses, and her father stood over her, lifting her face to check her, asking her the perfunctory questions - Are you okay? What happened? Did she tell anyone? Were you alone? and the such - and she answered truthfully each one, satisfying her father's frantic interrogation.
Jennifer looked on in happiness and no little amount of awe at the reuniting of the family. When it seemed that the parents' frenzy had died down a bit, she offered her hand to the mother. "I'm sorry," she said gently as they shook. "I truly had no idea she was a child. I just thought she needed help."
Tracy took the little girl from his wife's arms and held her close against him, looking down at the woman. Jennifer was shocked to see his weary countenance, even after having his daughter safe in his arms. She suspected it ran deeper than the lost child, than the knowledge of humans and their ways towards magic. She wondered how far deep it ran and, as the little girl clutched at his shirt, tiny handfuls of cloth pulling his neckline down, she saw the remnants of what was once a gruesome scar. Her breath caught as he stared down at her. "She did," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you for providing it, for protecting her. Even if you didn't… know. She was lost. If someone, any one else had found her before we did… we might not have been so lucky. We might not have her back." he said. "Thank you."
Though she couldn't quite explain why, Jennifer felt tears rising in her eyes as she smiled thinly and nodded at the parents, reaching out and giving Michelle's hand a squeeze. "You stay close to your mom and dad now, okay?" she asked.
The girl nodded. "Hailee wants to thank you for taking care of me, too." a grin crossed the girl's face. "She thought it was cool to have a fairy in her bedroom."
Jennifer watched on in shock as the three bid farewell and disappeared into thin air, back home to the home the young girl had told her about.
—-
That was when things changed for him. He had been so terrified for his daughter in the hours that she'd been missing, so certain that she'd been abused and taken and held against her will, misunderstood and treated wrongly by the humans, the same humans that had done so to him decades ago. But Jennifer, her want to protect his daughter for sheer kindness, reminded him that The Human Plane wasn't to be feared, wasn't to be looked upon as a place for fairies to have their lives ripped from them.
Because people like her existed.