A Life, Unforgotten

Freedom, Faith, Flying and Fuck All Begin With F

Light sighed as he sat, wings reflexively unfurling to give him balance. He didn't understand. Why did he hurt today? Why not longer than these last two weeks? He'd held a hand over his heart, heel pressing into the bone at near-bruising force as if that could massage out the pain. He thought he could sleep with his memories back. That he could be more at peace with himself. It's what it's supposed to be, right?

Wrong.

He'd only felt more pain now. Every time he closed his eyes he could see it, could see their anger, their hatred. He didn't want to explain why he'd flinched so hard last time Bill went to playfully smack his arm. He's sure Bill knew, but he didn't think it would be this bad. Not this bad.

Wings curled around him for a moment, blocking the wind that buffeted at him, he didn't think anything at the moment. But he'd heard a familiar voice curl by his ear, murmur a simple command that was oh so sweet. And it had him tilt his head upward at the night sky, cobalt eyes flickering between the constellations that seemed to stand out more than usual now. It had him give a weak smile, pull his sleeve over his palm and wipe at his eyes that stung with the first tears that weren't of joy in this third round of life. He stood, slowly this time, careful to keep the wind from catching in those thick feathers and pushing him down.

He was scared. For the first time in four solid years, he felt a true stab of fear in his gut, heart roaring in his ears as he'd turned and took one step up to the ledge that acted as a pathetic guard, leaning carefully forward and arctic brows knitting at the way the drop down seemed far too small and yet far too large. He'd lifted a hand, absently trailing the scar that settled along his cheek and nose. He's afraid. And that was a whisper against the cool night air.

I'm scared.

He swears he could hear a warm and gentle laughter fill his head, warm those chilled joints of his. It was Her. The She that he so adored, the She whose arms he rested in before he gained his wings.

And that is okay, my child. Have faith. Leap.

He took one breath, spreading his wings to the wind that seemed to soften, coax him, beckon him with a promise of not only safety but something he hasn't yet known. One thing after the next he had always, always been tied down by one thing or another. That so-called family. The memories he wanted but never found. A body that had nothing to do with its soul. But now. Now. Now he was free. And that realisation had him stutter in his movements, only for a wind to push at his back. Send him forward, falling down to the ground.

He panicked, to the point his voice utterly failed him – but is body seemed to know what to do despite his eyes snapping shut. It was smooth, wings like sails in capturing the wind and stretching their muscles for the first ever time, though he only glided, still sinking. He didn't want to hit the ground. He didn't want to. Fuck fuck fuck! It was a frazzled thought, heart just about to burst from his chest at the fear, but with immense focus and a physical strain, he'd forced those wings to push down at the cushion of air he glided on.

It was with the realisation that he had yet to become a pancake that he'd opened his eyes, and oh boy did he let out a gasp of utter delight – he was flying.

There was a laugh that fell past his lips, eyes widening now as if they could swallow the city lights like this. And with a grin, one that sprawled across his face like a child's delight once more, he'd focused and gotten his wings to curl around the air yet again, give it shape, push him upward. Higher. Higher. He didn't want to stop until he could reach up and touch the clouds.

It took time, it took strain, but he made it, and as he'd extended fingers to touch the cloud, he'd laughed at the fact they were so cold and solidified to water that clung to fingertips. This. This is freedom.

He could only grin, giddy with this delight, pain forgotten once more as he'd ascended through the clouds to loop upward, shivering a little at the drench but knowing it won't dampen the feathers, he only hums and tucks those wings in, absolutely plummeting in mere seconds. The rush of wind stung, but he felt free like this. Free to do as he pleased, no worries, nothing holding him back. He could only grin, and ease his wings open as he got closer to the ground and new home – the new home. The descent slowed, and he'd glided until legs extended and met the ground, giving a quick frenetic flap to stop the momentum and pressing both hands to the solid wood of the door, cracking a relieved smile.

I understand now. Thank you.

The only response was the Goddess's laugh and a warm breeze that settled his wild hair back into place, and he dropped his forehead onto the cherry oak before laying into the buzzer. Locked out, but honestly, he's pretty sure Bill would want to hear this.