#biana could haunt any building she wants to

[aphelea]

if i was sophie i would become one of those supernatural investigators with a youtube channel except i would get my elf friends to be the "supernatural creatures" using their abilities. ignore the neverseen and join my youtube channel sort of thing

[bookwyrminspiration]

Shattered Upside Down

A kotlc wings au: masterpost here

Chapter 10: The Reconnections

word count: 8.6k

chapter summary: So many things just went wrong, now Sophie and her friends have to pull themselves together and help each other process it, otherwise they'll never figure out what to do next.

warnings: mentions of blood/injury, brief mention of bodies (non-human), general distress and confusion, suppressing emotions, panicking, crying, swearing, purposeful misuse of grammar, a lot of caps (not in an angry way, just excited yelling), and I think that's everything

taglist: I’ll reblog with it. let me know if you want to be added or removed!

Hello! Ten chapters! We're in the double digits now! To celebrate I'll be posting a deleted scene from the earlier chapters, so if that sounds interesting to you, feel free to check it out! Now, I know you're probably eager to find out what happens next, so I'll stop !!

ao3 link here or read below

Everything froze.

The world was silent.

That little girl looked at her, tears streaming down their face, fingers clenched in that creature’s fur, nearly tearing it apart. They stared at her, and Sophie stared back.

Her friends were arranged in a circle around them, stumbling from the rubble, slipping in the carnage, trembling forward. Everyone’s eyes wide, mouths agape, dust clinging to their skin.

Eyes on the girl.

The girl wouldn’t take their eyes off Sophie. There were ten of them arranged in a perfect circle around them like some sick ritual from a human horror film.

Their mouth fell open, salty tears clinging to their lips,

and

they

screamed.

Cracks and tremors exploded their way through the rough ground cascades and shock waves of terror and sheer power ricocheted through the pathways of earth travelling along hidden roots and sending the whole world into a frenzy and it was so so so so unbearably loud.

Sophie clapped her hands over her ears, gritting her teeth as she tried to stop her very brain from rattling about in her skull. Her eyes closed for one moment but that was all it took.

The girl was gone when she opened her eyes.

There was a bag in her hand. Heavy, stuffed with metal pieces and tools and things she didn’t understand. Someone was holding her hand. A cloak had been draped across her back.

People were asking so many questions. What to do. Should they leave? Was Sophie’s shoulder okay? Was anyone else hurt? Would their parents try and come back? They couldn’t, she had their pathfinder. Should they just leave the bodies here?

Because there were bodies everywhere. Flattened into the ground, entrails strung between crumbled buildings like streamers. Thick, gleaming rivers of blood filled the cracks in the pavement, inching ever closer and closer, turning the claw marks and paw imprints in the ground into puddles, into drenched ground and soaked soil.

There was a dandelion growing between the cracks, petals now completely, entirely red.

She couldn’t see through the glass on the building to her side, but she could see her crimson reflection in the sheet of blood running down it, the drops drying like wax to the side.

It vanished, feathers blocked her view.

Deep browns spattered with gold and teal, a grey so dark it looked black, and--blue. A deep, rich blue.

Fitz, Keefe, and Maruca stood at three different points, a triangle amongst the ten of them, wings spread as the entire group faced inward. Blocking everyone’s view.

“What--what now?” Biana whispered, face drained of all color. There was a smudge of dirt on her cheek, bite marks in her lips.

“Who was that?” Keefe asked, grimacing, his hands held awkwardly at his side, like he couldn’t figure out just what he was supposed to do next.

Her fingers tightened around the pathfinder to the point of pain. Sophie just wanted this to be over. She’d been fighting so many people for so long. She didn’t want to anymore. She wanted to take a break, to go to the beach at midnight and push her friends into the water. To tend to a garden because she wanted to and not because she’d die without it. To listen to music on a blaring speaker without the looming terror it would draw something terrifying, something unnaturally scarier than her.

Twirling the pathfinder rhythmically beneath her fingers, she sighed. “Let’s just go.”

Keefe looked to her, alarmed. She didn’t care.

“Anyone have any last minute errands to run while we’re here,” she said, much too lightly. She couldn’t see the carnage through the feather barrier, but she could see it, knew what it looked like. The image was burned blisteringly detailed into her mind, and would remain for the rest of her goddamned life.

“Um...no,” Wylie answered, a bit confused, scratching at his head.

Sophie rubbed at her face; it felt like there was something stuck to her skin. A layer of filth and grime and wrong shuddering through her cells that refused to go away. She gasped, stumbling slightly--her shoulder. The movement jostled her shoulder. Throbbing aches thrummed their way through the surface of her skin, melting her nerves into rivulets of illusory, constant stimulation. Trembling, she exhaled.

Fitz reached out to steady her, frowning as he pulled her in to take a closer look. She didn’t let him. Covering it with her good arm, she tried to sort through her thoughts.

The sight of that little girl again…

“Then let’s just go.” Sophie looked up, startled. Linh. That had been...Linh. Her arms were crossed against her body, brow furrowed. Tam hesitantly placed his hand on her shoulder, seeming to convey something no one but her could understand. Linh shrugged in response and his expression only darkened, fingertips noticeably darker when he dropped his hand.

Almost reluctantly, they all linked hands. Like they were uneasy leaving this place the way it was. But what choice did they have? What could they possibly do?

Run away. That’s what they could do.

Again.

She couldn’t get it off. She couldn’t get anything off. The dust and grime from that haphazard city stuck to her skin like pollen and her clothes were damp with sweat and suctioned to her body and those wings were stuck to her back and she wanted to rip rip rip them off and set them alight and dance through the flames.

But there was dirt on the porch and she needed to sweep it off.

There were flower petals on the couch and she needed to clear them away.

There were wires and metal plates and parts to be sorted.

So she pushed it away. Pushed it down. Took a deep breath. And got back to work.

Unnerving quiet crept through the cracks of the wood planks beneath her feet. Too quiet. No wind blew through the canopied trees, no animals chirped in the forest. Everything had...paused. Or maybe that was just her, unaware of the world around her as she methodically plucked flower petals from the seat of the chair, tossing them out a window.

Everything she did pulled against the bandages wrapped haphazardly around her shoulder. She’d popped a few pills when she’d gotten back, human medicines she’d grabbed with Tam, rinsed the wound off, poured an antiseptic over the top--it’d stung like a bitch but she’d live--and wrapped the thing up. She didn’t want to deal with it anymore than she had to.

Attempting to clean her wound had disturbed some of the neatly wrapped bandages from Elwin--which was surprisingly difficult with all the pollen. But her right arm was still good and covered, the other good from about the elbow down. Right now, she could probably pass as one of those haunt actors in a human haunted house, some kind of resurrected mummy.

As she wandered around, she passed by friends moving, living their own lives, shadows trailing behind them, marring their faces. Biana and Fitz had disappeared somewhere the moment they’d gotten back, tears trailing down their cheeks. Linh had vanished too, arms crossed and expression tight, Tam right behind her, apprehensive, unable to deduce what was wrong.

What wasn’t wrong? That would’ve been a better question.

They were living just to the left of where they should’ve been. They were all together, everyone was alive, but everything was just slightly off. This was not right. They weren’t supposed to be like this. What had happened to them? Was it still happening? Who was that little girl?

She found a closet in one of the empty houses, a broom and some lengths of handmade rope, flowers curling out from a handful of the woven vines. That...didn’t seem like how rope was supposed to exist, but she also didn’t know much about making rope. Or anything about it.

A broom sat in the corner of the closet, which she made sure to note. She’d need that.

Slinging the length of rope over her good shoulder, she carelessly tossed a throwing star from hand to hand as she made her way through the village.

The bridges needed repair.

Just ahead, one of the bridges had snapped off entirely on one side, dangling over the edge and into a sharp drop much in the way those comical action movies had shown from when she was little.

Thunk. She’d set the supplies near the edge of the platform, but she didn’t care.

Tossing her legs over the edge, she braced herself; this would take a level of control she wasn’t sure she possessed--especially not right now.

Pressing off with her hands, she lowered herself into the air, just like when she’d lowered herself into swimming pools as a kid. Not the time to be nostalgic, Sophie. But she couldn’t help it. The sun had been overwhelming, the air muggy and humid. A beehive had started to form under the water slide and her and her sister would always plunge beneath the chemical surface when a bee flew near, or even just the sound of those wings approached.

The very same sound her own wings were now making, holding her gently in the sky as she urged herself forward, muscles in her back tearing at the scratches, the mite marks in her shoulder. Grabbing the frayed ropes and hauling them back to the platform she’d jumped from, she used her body weight to anchor it down while she tied and wove and cut the fresh rope--that’s what the throwing star was for. She didn’t think there’d be any scissors in an abandoned village, but she was open to surprises.

Actually, no she wasn’t. The unexpected oh so frequently came begging alongside disaster and terror, singing a sweet song of promise only to rip it to shreds as soon as you let it in.

Testing the strength, she tentatively walked across the planks, bouncing in the middle. She probably shouldn’t have been walking on it if she was unsure of its stability, but she wouldn’t fall if it broke. A dangerous mindset to play with and she knew it, but she didn’t care. Either way, it held. Good. Something was fixed. Something was better now.

She did it again. Time ticked passed, the supply of rope slowly dwindled, knot after knot slipping through her hands, fixing bridges until her fingers were raw and red and the muscles in her back were threatening to pop out. Her shoulder stung, the entire area burning as if set alight, but she didn’t dare take more than a minute’s break. Anything more would snap her out of this zone.

Back to the closet, then. She grabbed the broom. Anything, anything to keep her body moving, physical labor to numb her mind.

Dust showered over the edge, tumbling towards the ground far far below. She could watch it touch the ground if she wanted; instead, she let her mind disappear. Letting herself live in her own body would lead to circles and circles and circles, coming back to everything and anything she’d ever said.

Each mistake she’d made. There was nothing she could undo, but her mind could replay the possibilities over and over and over again. What if she’d tucked the wings inside her shirt instead of relying on just the cape after they’d escaped that creature. What if she’d agreed to meet in a different city, let Mysterium be just a mission for Dex, contacting their parents separate.

She should’ve tried harder, fought stronger. Should’ve. She hadn’t. An infinite cascade of what-ifs and maybes were drowning her, shoving her head under the water and there wasn’t a drop of energy left in her to scream.

Bristles brushed against the wood, precise. Methodic. She worked her way out from the inside of the platform, moving the dirt to the edges to watch it fall away.

Realizing there was grime inside too, she entered her little home. When had she come back to it--she could’ve sworn she was out further. Shifting the rug out of the way, she efficiently swept the floor. Kicking aside furniture with barely half a thought, holding a couch up with one hand, careful to avoid stepping on the stained glass littered about the floor. Bare feet didn’t mix well with glass, and her body was too bruised to torment further. Not that it was stopping her.

There was so much to do, so many tasks to complete.

This wasn’t right. This wasn’t how she was supposed to react, she knew that much. She had quite possibly just permanently severed her connection to her old life. Had maybe seen her father for the last time. He’d seen her, knew there was something wrong.

And she stood here with a broom she’d found in that empty home, sweeping rivers of dried dirt off the wood floor, watching it shower all the way down to the ground below.

She didn’t remember how she got back here.

She didn’t remember what she was supposed to do next.

She didn’t remember her name.

“Hey, you,” he said, gently, approaching hesitantly from behind. She still flinched, muscles tensing. Keefe took the broom from her hands, setting it to rest against the side of a nearby wall. That--that wasn’t her wall. When had she strayed so far from her cottage?

She hadn’t realized she’d stopped moving.

Almost like he was afraid he’d break her, he pushed a few strands of hair back behind her ear, the ones that were obscuring her face. Hiding the trails of tears crying silently down her cheeks.

He inhaled softly, eyebrows creasing with concern as his other hand came up to rest on the other cheek, holding her in his hands. She hadn’t even looked at him and yet she could still picture every minute detail of his expression.

“You okay?”

She didn’t know if she was physically capable of responding. Softly, her own hands covered his, savoring the warmth of his skin against her own, pressing her eyes closed in a futile attempt to dry her eyes.

Sophie leaned forward, her forehead pressing against Keefe’s chest as his arms widened around her, caught off guard for a moment before his hands slowly settled on her back, careful to avoid the wings.

“O-oh. Okay. We can--we can do this, then. If you need.”

She did need. Desperately. Tilting her face to the side so her cheek was pressed to his chest instead, she held him close. And let him hold her. They didn’t talk. Just stood there, bodies flush.

Eventually, he raised one of his hands from her back, brushing it through her hair, chaotic and tangled from the style she’d hastily torn out. She felt his fingertips combing through the strands, ghosting across her scalp as he pulled at the knots, untangling it with his fingers the best he could. His fingers slid against the back of her neck, lifting the strands stuck to her skin. Gentle. He was oh so gentle with her, like she was a porcelain doll and one wrong move would shatter her into pieces.

“You doing alright, Sophie?”

Sophie pulled back and nodded, smoothing out his shirt, pulling it back down and pointedly avoiding eye contact. He wasn’t having it.

Keefe held her chin, slowly directing her to look back at him, his skin warm against the dried salt on her own.

“Are you okay, Sophie? Please talk to me. Or anyone. I know that mission didn’t go well and--”

“Stop,” she whispered, and he shut right up. It was so so much harder to talk than she thought it would be. “I can’t. Not right--I can’t. Too much. Everything. All at once. I can’t.”

He was nodding, the wings at his back shifting slightly, readjusting themselves, a deep charcoal grey. Her fingers tightened into fists in this shirt before she realized what she was doing and released the fabric, stepping back, exhaling.

Today had been absolutely awful and she hated everything about it. From pushing her old life even further away to accidentally revealing the wings to the little girl on that intelligent monster down to the chill in the air that morning.

But Dex had gotten his supplies. He’d had everyone help carry everything back--though he tried to get her to let them all handle it, what with the shoulder. And they were all still here. And everyone else had been taken back to the underground unharmed. Those were wins. They were positives. They were good things but she just couldn’t focus on them.

“Do you...want a distraction?” Keefe asked, hesitantly waving a hand in front of her face to bring her back to reality.

She nodded, running her hands down her face. It was too much. Too many things had gone so wrong so quickly and she’d wanted to bury her imparter beneath her mattress because it was exploding with messages and hails and just the thought of reading them made her so nauseous her knees had buckled and she’d had to lay on the floor for several minutes.

That’s when she’d remembered how disheveled the place was. So she’d started cleaning and hadn’t stopped. Not until he’d come to find her.

“Okay,” he breathed, hands combing back through his hair as he squinted off into the distance. Thinking. He hadn’t had anything planned and was thinking on the fly. He glanced to her.

“You stole Grady’s pathfinder, right?”

“No need to rub it in,” she grumbled, patting at various points all over her body, trying to remember where she’d put it. She’d thought she’d tucked it into her waistband, but it wasn’t there. “I think I left it inside.”

He pulled at his lip with his fingers, lost in thought. “Okay. Cool. Where?” She gestured for him to follow her, leading him across a few bridges, some she’d repaired and tied back into place, others they had to take a route around because she hadn’t fixed them yet.

She ducked her head inside, scanning the space, the little tables. There. She jogged inside, snatching it off a chair and returning back outside, holding it out to Keefe.

Taking it from her, he began to spin the facets, a new pattern emerging. It seemed familiar, although she could never quite understand how the crystals worked.

He smiled slightly to himself, glancing. When he saw her looking back he quickly averted his gaze, cheeks turning red. Tilting her head to the side, she watched him hold up the pathfinder to the afternoon light.

Lacing their fingers together, he looked over his shoulder at her. “I don’t think you’ve ever been where we’re going, but it’s not the location that’s important. Got it?”

She shook her head, but he didn’t elaborate further, pulling them both into the light.

Purple grass had never made much sense to Sophie. Foxfire had purple grass, but no one bothered to explain why. It was one of those elvish things that hadn’t been deemed important enough for her to learn.

This grass wasn’t just purple, but varying shades of seafoam greens and delicate blues as well. Tall, reaching to about her knees, some adorned with flowers.

That was all. Grass, as far as she could see.

Keefe sighed next to her, then rubbed at his neck, smiling sheepishly. “I wasn’t sure if this place would be clear or not.” Clear of monsters. Taking a chance, coming here without scouting or defense aside from their new mobility and Sophie’s strength--not that she was in great shape at the moment. Perhaps the others had strange new traits too, not that she’d ask. Fitz had been staring off quite a lot recently, but she didn’t know if that meant anything.

“What are we doing here?” she asked, looking around. There was...nothing. Nothing was good. Nothing meant they were safe. Nothing meant this place hadn’t been overrun or corrupted just yet. But it also wasn’t like Keefe to do nothing.

Tucking the pathfinder away, he ran his fingers through his hair, standing slightly taller, pulling himself together. “Okay. Look around. What do you see?”

“Grass.”

“Yeah, there’s grass. Who do we know who likes grass and fields and streams?” He was trying to lead her somewhere but her brain had turned to lead. Wait. A stream? Huh, now that she thought about it, the faint gurgle of something wet rushing by could be heard. Water pouring over rocks.

Sophie rolled her eyes at him, but he just smiled back. Okay. Grass. Someone who liked--

“Oh!” She could feel her eyebrows shoot up, putting the pieces together.

Keefe full on grinned now, but she shut her eyes, sinking to her knees amongst the foliage, deliberately ignoring the light, tickling brush off the blades against her skin. .

Bracing her, holding her steady just in case, his hand rested atop her shoulder as he came to stand behind her.

Pressing her fingers to her temples, she transmitted her query across the world. Hello? Are you there? Over and over and over again, unsure which direction to send the message so sending it everywhere, a full 360 around her body, waves of power rushing from her mind that no one but people like her could sense.

Finally, her message was answered.

SOPHIE! HELLO! FRIEND!

Silveny’s exuberant shouts filled her mind and she barely even grimaced. Apparently maintaining the mindbubble so often had built up her resilience to pounding noise inside her head.

Yeah, she responded, leaning back into Keefe. Do you want to come visit? Me and Keefe?

FRIEND! VISIT! KEEFE!

Sophie nodded her head, then realized the glittery horse couldn’t see her. Yes. It’s safe. Well--yeah, we’ll go with that. Safe! Just a really quick visit, okay? I don’t want to put you in danger.

Keefe was fiddling with the sleeves of her shirt, unrolling the parts that had gotten bunched up.

VISIT! SAFE! SOPHIE!

Yes...that is...that’s what I said.

WHERE! WHERE! WHERE!

“I’d like to contact whoever designed alicorns and file a formal noise complaint,” she grumbled, and she could faintly hear Keefe’s snickering before her attention was too far gone to process anything anymore.

I’ll show you, she said, gathering up an image of the place. That must’ve been why Keefe had asked her what she’d seen, to ensure she had a clear visualization before reaching out. Hadn’t he come up with this on the spot? Why was his attention to detail so casual?

Almost immediately after sharing the image, Silveny severed their connection, still mulling over and looking at the details Sophie’d provided.

Groaning, she sat back up, realizing she’d been leaning practically all of her weight onto Keefe, who’d sat down behind her at some point during that conversation--it must’ve lasted significantly longer than she’d realized.

“So?” he asked, shaking his arms out and stretching a bit, rolling his wrist and straightening his shirt.

Sophie blinked a few times, the fading light still too bright after her eyes had been closed for so long “She cut me off. I showed her where we were and then she severed the connection, so whatever that means--”

Crackling thunder rolled through the air, making them both jump as a hole tore itself through space, several sparkling winged alicorns emerging, prancing their way through the sky as they circled down to land a ways away, trotting over to where they both sat in the grass.

“Hey, Glitter Butt,” Keefe whispered, stroking her face, brushing the icy strands of hair out of her eyes. She snorted and butted his hand in return, pressingly firmly into his hand. His smile was infectious, the wings at his back a near blinding white to match the alicorn before him.

KEEFE! KEEFE! KEEFE!

“She’s sure excited to see you,” Sophie told him, rubbing at her temple; Silveny was even louder in person.

Meanwhile, she was surrounded on either side by two little foals bumping up against her thighs, trying to knock her into the grass so they could play. But their movements were...disjointed. Erratic. Colored with fear and panic.

“They’re anxious,” she realized, frowning. Keefe’s expression had darkened slightly too, his wings shifting back to grey.

“Are you, mama?” He consoled, pressing up close to her neck, petting her all down her side. She didn’t know why she’d bothered to say it aloud--he could already feel it.

Sophie relented after a particularly brutal push from Wynn, sinking to the ground once more, letting him curl up in her lap, trembling beneath her fingers as she stroked his mane. Luna took more to Keefe, pulling at his shirt with her teeth, nearly tearing the fabric, pressing her wet nose to his skin, making him jump slightly.

He laid back in the grass, wings spreading behind him, Luna curling up beside him and laying her head atop his stomach. It was in this moment, the wind gently stirring the pastel grass cushioning their bodies, the intertwining feathers, the way his eyes closed and he leaned back, hand tangled in Luna’s mane, that Sophie yearned to be an artist. To capture this moment right now and make it real somewhere else, to allow it to exist outside her mind.

What she wouldn’t give to preserve this moment, this reprieve.

KEEFE? KEEFE? KEEFE OKAY? Silveny interrupted, blasting her thoughts into Sophie’s mind, hopping about anxiously, refusing to settle. Greyfell stood a little ways back, wary eyes observing the environment.

There’d been no news of anything catastrophic that Silveny had shared with her, nothing alarming or dangerous. But she’d kept secrets before. What had they seen? What had they met that made them so skittish?

Wynn butted his head against her side, demanding more cuddles and attention.

Yeah, Keefe’s okay. Why?

Silveny had pressed in closer, stomping at the ground. She tried to grab him by the shirt, pull him closer to her, but he ducked back, holding up his hands.

“Hey, hey, hey. You’re fine. It’s okay. Calm down, mama,” he whispered, gently stroking her head, trying to calm her. It was only marginally effective; she stopped her stomping, but her eyes were frantic, darting between Keefe and the ground and the area surrounding, sniffing the air, exhaling heavily.

Keefe glanced to her in question. Asking what was wrong.

Silveny. What’s wrong?

MONSTER! KEEFE! PROTECT!

I--what? What are you talking about? To Keefe she said, “Something about monsters. I think she’s trying to protect you.”

SMELL! MONSTER! PROTECT KEEFE!

Turning towards the panicked alicorn, he smiled slightly, nervously. “Thanks, but I���m good. You don’t need to protect me. You need to protect yourselves and your family. I’ve got other people to have my back.”

Silveny wouldn’t relent, her motherly concern boiling over and exploding from within her too-caring heart. Pressing forward, she tried to snap at Keefe’s wings, biting at the feathers.

They pulled back, snapping shut behind him just before she could reach as he sat up fully, backing away from her.

Oh.

Keefe.

Monster.

He was the monster she was scenting.

Silveny didn’t seem to understand anything Sophie tried to explain. Not until she told her that biting those wings, the monster, would hurt Keefe. Then she stopped trying.

But she didn’t give up, convinced there was something she could do to protect him from some creature, not understanding it was him she scented.

“I didn’t realize just how much our scents had changed. I mean, I know Ro told us but--” he cut off, still slightly shaken, expression drawn. Luna still curled around him, but the wings were tight to his back now, significantly darker. More shadowed. Haunted.

Silveny refused to leave his side, pressed close to him in the grass. Sophie had kept her own wings tucked in close, flat against her back. It felt unnatural, like they wanted to remain spread, but she could do it easy enough. Keefe’s were so much more obvious, that’s what’d tipped the alicorns off. Hers could be hidden, discreet. Anything to prevent more disruption, to worsen that aura of hurt lingering around Keefe, the one he was trying so hard to pretend didn’t even exist.

Sophie couldn’t think of anything to say, instead staying silent.

Distraction. They needed a distraction. That’s why they’d come all the way out here, although she didn’t know where that was. To have fun. Relax. Ignore everything else for just a single moment.

You know what? Fuck it.

Hey, Silveny? Want to fly?

Head perking up, her eyes focused on Sophie.

FLY? FLY? FLY?

She nodded, debating how she was going to navigate this. Yeah. Fly! Her shoulder could probably take it. She’d regret it tomorrow, but it wasn’t tomorrow yet.

“What are you saying to her,” Keefe hissed, leaning back a bit as Silveny’s wings began to flap slightly, rising from her sitting position to towering about the two of them sitting before her. Even Sophie felt as though she could feel the waves of excitement radiating off her, and she wasn’t even the empath. Keefe’s eyes were slightly clouded, like he was sorting through something before coming back to himself.

Sophie brushed him off. “You asked me to trust you when coming here, now it’s your turn to trust me.”

“That is so unnecessarily cryptic, Foster.” She stared at him. “Okay, alright. Point taken.”

Silveny bent down, expecting the two of them to climb atop her back, but Sophie shook her head. Keefe’s eyes widened and he slowly turned to look at her, mouth comically agape, like he was questioning whether her mind still worked properly. Probably not.

No. We’re gonna do this a little differently this time, okay? Trust me.

DIFFERENT FLY? TRUST? DIFFERENT FLY?

Shaking out her hands, trying to dispel the nerves, she nodded. Yep. Trust us. You go ahead and we’ll join you.

It took a minute or two more of explanation, but finally the stubborn alicorn relented, her family following behind. Taking off into the sky, the four of them began to circle a few dozen feet about the ground, moving around the two of them left on the ground.

“Are you serious? You’re really--are you sure?” he asked, hands on either side of his head, fingers digging into his scalp as his eyes remained oh so open, scanning her from head to toe.

She shrugged, turning away as she straightened her clothes out; the fabric had bunched and remained full of grass. “Want to join them or not?”

“Well--uh--you know--ah--we can’t--why…” Sophie looked to him over her shoulder, realizing he truly was stunned. Entirely at a loss for words.

“Hey, you don’t have to, you know. You’ll be fine either way. Nothing will happen.”

He rolled his eyes at her, insulted. Of course he would follow her, he just couldn’t believe who she’d become. The decisions she made so casually that would’ve sent her spiraling into anxiety before. Part of her didn’t believe it either, pretended nothing had happened at all.

Crouching down slightly, she gathered her energy for a moment before leaping into the sky, wings snapping out behind her. Steadily, she made her way into the sky, turning back to see Keefe.

His wings beat steadily behind him--he must’ve practiced, she realized with a start. Light grey feathers shivering in the wind as he caught up to her, color staining his cheeks already.

“See? Everything’s okay,” she whispered, unsure whether she was comforting herself or him. Either way, he smiled in return, chaotically bumping into her with his shoulder, nearly tumbling out of the sky in the process. Hiding her wince, she smiled wider. Yeah, that injury did not like all this movement, but she’d never been known to listen to her body.

“Yeah. Okay. We’re okay.”

With each beat, it grew easier. The tightness in her chest eased, her smile gradually felt true. Every time she took to the sky she landed more skilled, more aware of her own body. They worked in tandem, the two of them. Her and the wings.

SOPHIE! KEEFE! FLY!

The impatient alicorn had darted down and was now flying in concentric, tightening circles around the two of them, whining in excitement.

Yeah, Mama. Fly. Silveny let out a shriek of excitement, tumbling through the air, her two little trouble makers coming up beside them to butt into their legs, testing their balance.

Sophie moved much more sporadically than the five of them, rhythmically shifting in the sky while they moved steadily; something about their wings having feathers and hers being insect-based, she assumed. But she didn’t want to do any thinking right now.

Right now there were four alicorns and someone she loved right beside her, laughing and intertwining and dipping through the sky.

Keefe waved frantically, drawing her attention. “Foster! Look!” Wynn hovered beside him in the air, and on some unknown signal both of them snapped their wings shut, gravity taking them by the hand and dragging them down head first, dozens upon dozens of feet rushing past in a few moments as the ground grew nearer and nearer.

At the last possible second, they both opened their wings, pure white feathers catching the wind as they pulled a sharp turn, skimming the top of the grass before the momentum sent them rocketing back into the sky, looping around to come to a mostly steady pause in the air.

“Why? Why would you do such a thing,” she managed, clutching her chest. She’d trusted him, but watching him drop headfirst, unprotected, had ignited some visceral panic, adrenaline humming through her veins, making it slightly more difficult to maintain her position in the sky.

KEEFE FLY! KEEFE FLY! KEEFE FLY! Silveny cheered in her mind, but Sophie tried to ignore the pestering. Greyfell seemed to be occupying most of her attention anyways.

“Aww, what? Do you care about me or something?” he teased, circling back around to her, squishing his cheeks between his palms.

Swatting at him, she glitched back a little, wings buzzing and failing to hide her grin. “Unfortunately, I’m invested in your physical and mental well-being, you dumbass.”

Keefe scrunched his nose up at her, pressing in close and grabbing her by the wrist, drawing her away slightly, leading her through loops in the air. He let go eventually, realizing it was much more difficult when holding on to someone, the same way running was so difficult when holding someone else's hand.

She missed the warmth of his skin, though. Missed it desperately.

Music. In a human film, there’d be soft, soothing music playing over a montage of the two of them whirling through the sky, the sound of their laughter cutting through when Sophie’s shirt rode up and the fabric got bunched on her face, when Keefe tried to stay low and fell from the sky, instead ending up rolling through the grass.

Everything was okay, just like they’d said. Like they’d promised. All she could hear was Keefe’s voice, his ringing laughter, and all she could see was his smile, the blinding, near glow of his bone-white feathers.

They let the time pass.

They stopped trying to stop it.

Hey--where are you? Fitz interrupted her as she darted around an alicorn wing, testing her own agility.

Hmm? she replied, startled.

I asked where--

Oh. Mind processing what he’d said a few seconds later, she interrupted him. I don’t know. Keefe took us here.

She could’ve sworn Fitz was mentally trying to strangle her, shake some sense into her. Sophie took the brief moment of silence to slow down, coming to a hover as she closed her eyes, focusing on the conversation. It was hard to escape her body with the pounding in her shoulder, but she managed.

Alright, he said finally, clearly distracted with something on his end. Can you come back, please? Did you even tell anyone you were leaving? What are you even doing--you know what? Later. Just...I need you. Please.

Wings rushed rhythmically beside her, Keefe having noticed her distraction and coming to make sure she didn’t tumble from the sky. How considerate.

Are you okay? Heart skipping a bit, she resisted the urge to pull at her eyelashes. It was that brief moment before disaster, that poignant pause where the next few words would determine whether the adrenaline kicked in in full or her panic would waiver and they’d laugh about it later. Those few seconds before it set in where you tried to figure out if it was real.

He hesitated. I--I don’t know. Is it even possible to be okay right now?

Okay, okay, she consoled, instincts kicking in. Give us a few minutes and we’ll be there, okay? I promise. Don’t do anything stupid, please. We’re coming.

Yeah...okay.

The connection cut out and she opened her eyes, disoriented for a moment. Keefe was grimacing, shaking his hands out, trying to dispel something.

“What’s got you all anxious, Foster?” Ah. Right. He could feel the sudden souring of her mood.

Moving away from him, towards the alicorns, she called over her shoulder. “We need to go. Fitz asked for us to come back and he sounded really upset.”

Keefe started for a moment then followed after. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. But he wants us back so we’re going back.”

“Okay, yeah. Yeah let’s go.” he repeated himself a few times, and Sophie swore if she were an empath she’d feel the same waves of dread and anxiety rolling off of him as he felt from her.

Silveny, Keefe and I need to leave. You and your family need to go back to wherever you’re safest, okay? I’m sorry we couldn’t stay longer.

KEEFE! SOPHIE! STAY! She begged, sounding like she wanted to kidnap the two of them and steal them away permanently, convinced she could protect them.

She shook her head, curled up in the air beside the alicorn, cradling her head between her hands, pressing their foreheads together. We can’t, mama. But you need to stay safe. We’ll see you again soon.

SEE SOPHIE SOON!

Yeah! We won’t wait so long next time.

SEE KEEFE SOON! Silveny playfully bumped into Sophie, circling away to do the same to Keefe, who said much of the same as she had, wishing her well and promising to visit sometime.

Neither of them knew if they’d be able to keep that promise.

Wynn and Luna butted against them too, demanding a few last pets and snuggles before they followed behind their parents, Greyfell unexpectedly brushing wings with Keefe in farewell before they vanished into the void with one last message.

SOPHIE SAFE! KEEFE SAFE! STAY SAFE!

It was useless to wait here any longer, but they both hesitated for a single moment, long enough to take a breath. To watch the grass shiver in the breeze, the pollen dance through the air.

Offering Keefe her hand, Sophie conjured the clearest image she could of the gnomish village, the way it looked from up above. Their fingers intertwined and Sophie stopped beating those wings, letting herself fall into a dead drop just as Keefe had, but this time they didn’t catch themselves: they plummeted into the void.

Humidity condensed into clouds, obscuring her vision. Apparently her best image of above the village was from that dragon fight, much higher than she realized. The two of them descended in slow, coiling circles, both of them wishing they could go faster but not sure if they should risk it.

Wylie waved at them as they landed from a bridge a little ways away, so she waved back.

We’re back; where are you? Hand dropping back to her side, she resolved that if he didn’t respond within the next fifteen seconds she was tracking him down.

She reached ten before his voice filled her head.

My...house, he said, unsure what to call it just like the rest of them.

Biting her lip, she glanced to Keefe. “Do you know where Fitz is staying?”

He nodded, taking the lead. A stab of guilt threaded its way through the lining of her stomach, coiling around her ribs and squeezing tight. How shameful that she’d gotten so caught up in her own life, her own troubles, that she didn’t even know where he was staying.

Leading her through a series of bridges and turns, a cottage came into view, slanted and twisted around the side of a tree, a spiral of stairs leading towards a splintered door left agape, a pattern of slashes in the front that she forced herself to remove from her mind.

It was the highest building in the village, roof open to the sky.

No creaks or groans came from the stairs as she practically ran up them, imagining the worst of possibilities, heart lagging behind, stumbling with dread. Keefe was only a moment behind, cursing as his feathers snagged on a tear in the railing.

Tentatively, she knocked on the door, but when no response came she just pushed inside.

“Fitz? You alright?” she called out, glancing around the area. Gasping, she let the door swing behind her. The room was in chaos, papers strewn about the floor, his bag discarded near a beanbag chair, spilling empty vials and snack bars onto the ground.

A shuffling came from upstairs--there was an upstairs? Fitz tumbled into the room a few moments later, disheveled, like he hadn’t realized they were actually coming.

Keefe let out a low whistle. “Okay, buddy. What the fuck.”

Fitz was picking at his lip, distracted, frantically scanning the papers on the floor like he was looking for something. “Hmm. Yea,” he responded absentmindedly.

Sophie was too busy scanning him from head to toe, searching every inch for sign of injury or distress. His knuckles were red and raw, his hair sticking out in every possible direction like he’d been running his hands through it, pulling at it.

“What did you need?” she asked, voice soft and gentle. Something was wrong. Something was eating eating eating at him enough that he’d asked her to come.

Fitz exhaled heavily, reaching up to run his hands down his face, then dropped them to his sides. “I don’t know,” he whispered, clenching his jaw. “It doesn’t make any sense.” he was picking at his lip again, arm shaking.

She tried again. “Well, maybe if you tried describing it, we could figure--”

“No.” He had turned around, lowering himself to the floor, collecting the papers and starting to place them in some sort of order. Where had he gotten paper? He glanced at her guiltily. “Sorry. That sounded rude. I didn’t mean--I’m sorry. I don’t mean that I don’t know what the problem is, the problem is that I don’t know. I don’t understand this. I keep--I keep going over what we know, organizing it into notes and sections and treating it like a goddamned homework assignment but I just...the pieces don’t fit together. And there are so many loose strings and things to tie up and come back to and I can’t get that information, which just makes it--”

“O-kay, babe. Let’s slow down there for a hot second,” Keefe interrupted, lowering himself next to Fitz. Fitz slumped, all the air rushing out of his body seemingly at once, expression softening into delicate pain.

Sophie just stood there for a moment before shaking herself out of it, kneeling on the floor beside him, taking the papers from his hand. It was just pages upon pages of notes, scribbled diagrams besides carefully organized and sectioned observations, notes about the wings and the creatures, notes about the little echo and the way Tam’s eyes had changed.

“Here,” he said, handing her a book on top of it all. “That’s what I’ve been working on.”

Oh. It was the book. The monster book. The journal they’d all started who knew how long ago, a collection of notes and things known about the various creatures they’d encountered so far. Their behaviors, their traits, the noise they made if any.

She’d forgotten they’d brought it along.

He clearly hadn’t.

“Okay,” she said, trying to collect herself. “What is...what have you been working on?” His thoughts were so disjointed, something occupying his mind so intensely he wasn't speaking clearly. Hard as she tried she couldn’t make sense of it.

Fitz gestured like it was obvious. “I’m trying to solve it. The wings.” He scooted closer to her, reaching out to flip through the pages to a new section.

A section...about all of them.

It felt so very wrong and off-putting, seeing themselves beside all those horrid things in that book. But she shook it off. Not now.

“Solve? What do you mean ‘solve?’” Keefe asked, leaning in closer to see the pages, quickly turning away when he caught a glimpse of a few sketched feathers, all in various shades of grey.

Fitz groaned, rubbing at his face again. “I can’t--I can’t explain it, okay? It just--it doesn't want to make sense. I swear it makes sense. There’s just--I’m just missing something and then I’ll figure it out and--there’s an explanation somewhere. If I just find it then we can--”

“We can what, Fitz?” Keefe asked, painfully soft.

He went quiet. His fingers curled, nails digging into his face until Sophie reached out to pull them away, lacing her fingers through his own. The movement aggravated her shoulder but she ignored it, letting out only the smallest sound. It didn’t matter. He was crying.

Keefe moved closer and began rubbing his back, the space between the protruding wings, telling him to breathe, the instruction accompanied by a wince of his own as all of Fitz’s...whatever it was hit him, flooding through his mind, visible on his face. But he just shook it off, continuing the slow circular motions.

“I don’t even know what I’m trying to do,” he laughed, hollow. His fingers tightened around Sophie’s before relaxing, falling into his lap. “We’ve already messed everything up. There’s no coming back from this. I don’t even know why I’m trying.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Sophie said, rubbing her thumb against the back of his hand. “We’re still trying. We’re always going to try--it’s what we do, right? Together. All of us. That’s how we work. That’s us. I like it that way.” She had no idea what to say.This was so...unexpected. Out of nowhere. Or maybe she just hadn’t been paying as much attention as she should’ve been.

He hummed half-heartedly in response, cheeks flooding red. Keefe absentmindedly reached up to brush a stray piece of hair from Fitz’s forehead, bumping him lightly with his shoulder.

“You should listen to Foster; she knows what she’s talking about most of the time.”

Sophie rolled her eyes at him, but Fitz was smiling slightly. “Yeah...she usually does. I guess that’s why I asked for you.”

“You don’t need a reason to ask for me,” she reminded him, letting go of his hand to flop back against the hard wood of the floor, the sound of something clattered to the ground accompanied it. But she didn’t notice, flinching as she hit her shoulder, staring towards the sloped ceiling, the veins of vines curving around the roof. Like the ones that had trapped that creature.

A pang of guilt overwhelmed her for a moment, almost enough to take her breath away. She still hadn’t told anyone about that. But she turned her attention back to the situation at hand. Keefe was looking at her funny, but he shook himself off and turned away.

Fitz shifted forward, flopping down on the floor beside her, wings spreading beneath him to accommodate for the shift. She couldn’t imagine it was comfortable, but he seemed fine.

“I know,” was all he said.

Keefe frowned. “Well now I feel a little left out. Do I get to join the cuddle session?” Fitz laughed, a real laugh, patting the open space to his right, inviting Keefe in.

When Keefe joined, Fitz was sandwiched between the two of them, the three of them looking off at nothing, pretending they didn’t notice the way their skin brushed against each other. No one spoke, the echoing of their heartbeats more than enough to fill the passing time.

They had responsibilities, yes. But this mattered more. Her friends, her family, would always matter more.

Fitz’s breathing evened out, the tension draining from his muscles. Whatever distressed frenzy he’d been in when they arrived started to ebb, his pulse slowed.

Sophie counted each beat, the three of them combined, still unnerved that she could even hear their hearts. Fitz’s hand was playing with her hair, rearranging it around her face as he lay beside her, oh so careful not to jostle her shoulder, the bandages. They’d shifted at some point, Sophie now more atop his wing so she could be closer to his body, Keefe the same on the other side. He was fiddling with Fitz’s hand, pulling at his fingers and tracing the lines with his palm.

“Thanks for coming,” Fitz whispered, breaking the long silence.

“Hmm?”

“You didn’t have to come,” he explained, not looking at either of them. “But thank you. I..I needed this. Someone.”

Keefe rolled over, propping himself up on his elbows, looking down at the two of them. “We’re always going to be here when you need us, Avery.” Fitz rolled his eyes at him, smiling.

“Just…” Sophie began, pausing and restarting. “Thanks for reaching out. Instead of dealing with it on your own. Thanks for letting us in.” He blinked, like he hadn’t thought of it that way before.

Keefe pushed himself up further, looking over at something, drawing both of their attention. “Hey, uh. Foster? You’re getting some messages.” Her imparter--oh, that must’ve been what the noise was. It had fallen from her pocket, discarded somewhere on the floor--she’d turned off the vibrations and sound so she wouldn’t hear it if someone said anything. It was stupid, she knew, but she hadn’t known what else to do.

Exhaling, she closed her eyes. Yeah. She should deal with those now. Nodding to herself, she pushed herself into a sitting position, bearing her weight on her good arm. Keefe lowered himself back down next to Fitz.

One thing at a time.

Reaching over, she grabbed her imparter, bringing it to her lap so she could see it better.

Her mouth fell open. Fitz was watching her carefully, messing with Keefe’s hair and trying to act nonchalant, like he wasn’t observing her every move, gauging her reaction.

“How bad?” Keefe asked, head resting on his arms.

Sophie didn’t even respond, sitting up straighter and thumbing open the device, going straight to her messages. The most recent ones.

“Elwin--he messaged me.” She blurted out, trying to make sense of what she was seeing.

They both stopped moving.

“He says he wants to meet up. Secretly. Just--just with him.” Trembling, she turned the screen around so they could read it.

Sophie. I don’t know what’s going on with you or your friends, but please let me help. I want nothing but the best for you and I can’t help you if you’re hidden. I’m not asking you to reveal your secrets, but let me in just enough to patch you up. I don’t need all the answers, but I won’t sleep well until I know I’ve done everything I can. You have injuries left untreated.

But it was the last part of the message that really stunned her.

No one knows I’m sending this, so don’t let them know. We can keep this just between us. You’re a strong, independent young woman, but I hope you’ll accept my help.