Seasonal Feathers

Chapter 4

Oh God. Oh God oh God oh God I'm so dead! How did-how could--? Matthew couldn't answer that. He didn't know how. But he did know two things. First: he was an idiot. Second: that the albino man standing in front of him, gaping at the huge wings arched over his back, knew the secret that could destroy his species.

Matthew rewound back in his head, trying to remember exactly where he had messed up. He supposed it was with a lot of things, actually. When he had first talked to Gil, for one. When he had agreed to go on the next run, and started a conversation with the German for the second time. It was probably the meetings that had done it; several in the past couple of weeks. Matthew, the stupid idiot that he was, had begun sneaking out of his cabin at Flight's End with a harness, meeting Gilbert outside of his store when he closed for the day. They would walk around for hours, just talking and laughing. Matthew would lose track of time until the sun began to set through the trees and he'd realize just how late he had stayed. There was never any suspicion when he got home, though; most didn't even realize that he'd been gone. One of the few perks to being invisible.

What had cinched it all together was one of the many things that Matthew probably should have seen coming: Gilbert getting curious about where he was going when he left in a rush. Hindsight was always 20-20, but Matthew was still feeling pretty freaking blind.

He had thought that he would get caught by his family first. Nice going. The blond turned his attention back to Gilbert as he stepped toward Matthew, a look of astonishment on his face changing to one that almost looked like concern. Panic bubbled at the back of the Canadian's throat, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. Gilbert came closer and Matthew began to take gulps of air, fear sparking through him. Fear of what Gilbert would do, what he was thinking. Fear of the fact that Matthew had just given away a secret that had been kept from the human race for decades.

Fear of the unknown.

The full repercussions of what he'd done were still hitting Matthew. Gilbert began to blur as lightheadedness took him over. His legs gave out as he tried to get air in, panting shallowly. The air just wouldn't stay, though; it came into Matthew's body and seemed never to reach his lungs, failing to supply oxygen to his blood. A new sort of panic consumed him: the fear of suffocation. He heard a voice, too garbled to make out. Pressure on his chin raised his face upward. He tried to force his head down, tried to breathe, but the force lifted it back up. Look at me! Hey, Birdie, breathe. Look at me.

He tried, he really did. Matthew focused on the voice and opened his eyes; he wasn't even aware that they were closed. White and tan and red danced across his vision, coming together to form a face. Gilbert.

His eyebrows were creased together in an intense expression, and he was talking so loudly. Is he angry? Matthew watched as his friend began to take deep, exaggerated breaths. In and out, Mattie. Can you do that? Watch me: in and out. In and out. That's it.

Matthew struggled to match Gilbert, why was it so hard? The man was breathing at a pace that he couldn't seem to reach, but it was starting to get easier. He slowly began to match the steady rhythm. He and Gilbert drew air in synch, and Matthew's heart regained a normal rate. His vision cleared enough to let him see relief spread onto his friend's face.

"That's it, Matt. You're okay." The German spoke in a tone that Matthew had never heard from him; it was soft and gentle. He drew the angel in a hug, wrapping his arms protectively around him and drawing him close. His fingers brushed Matthew's feathers slightly, but neither seemed to care much as Matthew leaned into the hug. He uncurled slightly so the position was a little less awkward, and raised his hands to grip Gilbert's shirt.

"Panic attack," Gilbert grunted softly. He seemed as though he wanted to say more, but stopped and just sat there. At last, the two broke apart. They sat against a tree trunk in silence, neither wanting to ruin the moment by bringing up the elephant in the room.

"Thanks," Matthew whispered, fiddling with his hands.

Gilbert shrugged. "It was nothing. Good thing I'm so awesome, though, otherwise you'd have been in trouble." He grinned, dissolving some of the tension between them.

Matthew took a breath, mentally preparing himself. His hands were shaking, though he wasn't sure whether it was an after effect from his attack or trepidation of the ongoing situation. He couldn't exactly go on ignoring this, even with however the hell Gilbert was keeping himself from bringing it up. But he really didn't want to.

"You saw."

Two simple words. They immediately shattered the false sense of normalcy. Gilbert bobbed his head. "Yeah. I'm kind of panicking. But whatever, it's all good. But what the hell, did Francis put something in my drink?! Because I'm seeing some weird shit, Mattie. You've got wings and they're really pretty but what if I touch them and they poof into smoke? That would suck, I'm sorry for poofing your wings. They're really pretty though, I'm not sure if you can see them too or if I'm just hallucinating really, really badly."

Matthew smiled nervously. "Uh, no. They're real, I see them too. I just... I never meant for you to see them, Gil."

"You know, I'd think this is a really weird dream, but I've never dreamed anything this crazy before, so no. Then that it's just Antonio and Frances pranking me or something. That would happen. But there's no way they could pull one over on me, and I know you wouldn't go along with it. So I'm just really confused and possibly about to faint."

Matthew looked at him, suddenly concerned. "Wait, really? Do you feel light headed?"

Gilbert laughed. "A little. But, Birdie--" he stopped again, and burst out into giggles. Matthew stared at him, his worry mounting. Was he finally breaking under the pressure of the situation? Was he going into shock?

Gilbert's laughter finally ebbed away, and he wiped a tear from his eye. "Oh, man. Sorry. I just realized that I nicknamed you 'Birdie' and I didn't even know. Am I just the awesomest person ever? Mein schnitzel, that's so good!"

Matthew let out a small laugh as well, failing to notice the soft expression it brought to his companion's face. "Think how I felt. I thought you had me pegged for a moment."

"Speaking of, you still owe me an explanation, for real." Gilbert turned to face Matthew head on. "I'm serious, I have no clue what's happening. What are you, some holy messenger? Because that would be awesome. But if that were the case, I don't see what you'd be doing at a rundown Food Lion."

"Um, no I'm not a holy messenger. Sorry." Matthew realized that there was no way around it. He'd have to explain, but it was getting seriously dark. He really should have gone home....

"I've got time," he said aloud, "but it's dark out here, and we're in the middle of the woods. Let's get inside. Besides, you might want to sit down."

Gilbert nodded. "My brother is on a night shift until 5, so we've got a lot of breathing room. Let's go to my place."

The two stood up, Matthew leaning on a tree. He still felt a little dizzy from earlier, so Gil put an arm under his and supported him across the clearing. Matthew felt him staring at his wings, barely refraining from reaching out to touch them. He was grateful that the German managed to stop himself for once.

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A/N: next chapter! Finally! I'm sorry, I know that the pace of this story is slower than a snail pulling a tug boat, but I'm going to try to get my crap together and up the pacing. Hopefully it'll be less of a letdown. But thank you all for reading my bad story, I appreciate you more than you know❤❤❤ Bye!
~LJ
P.S: Flight's End is the name of the angel town. I've got a whole little backstory to that place.