Sanders Sides One Shots

To The Skies (Logicality)

This is written from another prompt I literally found off of the internet [In a society full of winged people, Character A was born without wings. So, they've invented a pair of fully functional wings (out of magic feathers, steampunk technology, magic technology, etc.) and Character A wants their best friend, Character B, to help teach them how to fly. ]

*Patton's POV*

Backstory type thing

"Class!" Our flying instructor, Mr. Sanders certainly got our attention. "I'm sure you're all very eager to start flying, but we still have to over safety precautions, which is a word that means-"

"Something that is done in advance to prevent a potentially dangerous outcome." A quiet voice from the back of the class piped up. I was one of the many people who turned my head back to see who spoke up.

A boy with glasses was sitting all alone at a desk with at least six books stacked up around him. As soon as everyone swiveled around to look at him, he shrank back and his bangs fell over his face. My face flushed almost as much as his had. How hadn't I noticed him before?  There was something weird about him that I almost couldn't place, until...

"Hey, where are your wings?" Someone pointed at him, which caused him to shrink back even more. A wave of chatter, pointing fingers, and even a bit of laughter flowed over almost everyone except for me and two other boys holding each other's hands.

"Guys, how would you like it if your classmates did that to you because you were different?" I raised my voice over the crowd. They class quieted.

"Thank you, Patton." Mr. Sanders nodded towards me, causing me to stifle a grin. Everyone had turned back to the teacher at this point. Before class got out, I turned one last time to look at the wingless boy who had spoken up earlier.

"His name is Logan." Mr. Sanders tapped my shoulder with a small, knowing smile as he walked by to do his paperwork.

"T-thanks." I stammered and walked over to Logan. "Hi, Logan. I haven't seen you before... are you new here?"

"Relatively. I transferred here for the end of the year last term, but I usually spend my time in the library researching topics, which is probably why you haven't seen me around." Logan replied and adjusted his glasses and we walked out of the room.

"What have you been researching?" I was surprised how mature he was and liked the big words he used, considering we were only 9.

"The anatomy of wings and how they work." He stiffened and dropped his gaze to the ground. "My research hasn't been very successful this far..."

"Well, I mean, we're only 9. We have a whole life ahead of us, you know." I pointed out. His gaze flickered back up to me.

"You are correct," Logan's voice faltered for a minute before he went on. "But I don't want to spend the rest of my life being ridiculed by my peers because I don't have something anyone else has."

I felt a wave of empathy for him. He continued before I could respond. "The idea occurred to me the other day, that wings could indeed be built and attached to a given individual in the fashion of a harness. My parents don't have the most spare money, so the wing harnesses for sale in the stores are not an option for me."

"Do you know how to build a... wing attachment thingy?" I'd forgotten what the phrase he used was.

"It's a wing harness, or at least that's what I've seen it being called. I've been trying to do some research on the wing's anatomy for the bone structure and the muscles and tendon placements, and, with the right materials, it could work." Logan adjusted his neck tie as he explained all of this, with a bit more than a spark of enthusiasm glimmering in his eyes.

The bell rang for three quarters day (6:00 pm), startling the excitement out of his cinnamon colored eyes. "Well, I'd best be off. I should be at the library to do some research soon so I can be home by nightfall." Logan announced. "I'll be seeing you tomorrow, Patton, and thank you for today."

"Really, don't mention it. It's what I do. I'll see you then!" I waved with a smile and began to walk away, having this feeling within me that we'd be close friends for a long time.

*Logan's POV*

"Hiya, Logan! How're the wings coming along?" Patton practically pranced over to where I was sitting. I placed a bookmark in the anatomy textbook.

"I have the wing structure all planned out, but I'm not quite sure how to program the tendons and muscles to do what I want them to do." I placed my head in my hands in frustrated confusion.

"Hmm..." Patton frowned and then quirked an eyebrow as an idea came to him. "Maybe you're thinking about this all wrong!"

This caused me to jerk my head up and stare at him. "Elaborate, I beseech you."

"Maybe your mindset of having it programmed is what's preventing you from making it work. If you somehow make it electronic and link the impulse things to the neurons in your brain, you could make the wings work without a controller!" He smiled and took a seat next to me. I blinked a few times in amazement. Patton wasn't the type of person I'd peg for solving my problems.

"Take it easy, Sherlock. He watched Big Hero 6 last night." Virgil's voice dripped with sarcastic amusement as he and Roman walked by.

"Just don't let it get to your head." Roman grinned and tapped his head with his free hand, for the other was interlaced with Virgil's.

"Patton, I do believe that could work." The gears began to turn in my head. "I could line the tendons and muscles with electrode-sensors and replace the ligaments with wires, and put gears where the wing joints are... Patton, you're a genius!"

My closest friend smiled bashfully, his wings caving in on him, as if to protect him in a shield-like manner, as he blushed. "Like Virgil said, I watched Big Hero 6. It's not anything compared to your brains." He waved off the compliment.

"I'm not sure you're understanding the vitality of the idea you proposed. I have the materials. The wings could be done by tomorrow morning, actually!" Excitement crept into my voice as I shot up from my seat.

I grabbed my backpack and the textbook I was borrowing. Patton stood up next to me with one of his adorable grins on his face. I suppose I began to rub off on him, as he adjusted his glasses that were already perfectly centered on his nose.

"But then how will you learn to fly? We had lessons when we were 9." The grin on Patton's face faltered.

"You'll teach me."