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randomweavingFic: Changeling
Characters: John Dorian/Perry Cox
Rating: NC-17 (eventually)
Chapter Rating: PG-13 (language)
Description: This is a wildly AU story with fantastical elements based on![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
thuri's Nano writing project. It begins late in season three, before Carla and Turk's wedding, and from there follows the characters as they face the Change, a strange, magical phenomenon that is turning ordinary humans into half-human creatures from fantasy.
Chapter listings: Contents Post
Author's Note: Hey all! As you probably saw with the poll post earlier, I (randomslasher) am now safely in California. Chilling on thuri's couch at the moment, in fact. Because I'm here, though, and because we're often out and doing things, the postings are going to be a little random. Sorry about that! Today's post is actually Sunday's, belated, so we'll try to get the next part out by Sunday. If we get it done sooner, though, we'll post it sooner. Our posting schedule kind of fell apart at the end here, but we'll still get you at least one chapter a week.
Four more chapters to go after this, plus the epilogue!
* * *
The first emotion Perry felt upon his slow return to consciousness was surprise.
I'm alive?
This was quickly followed by several others, which crowded into his mind so quickly he was half-tempted to whistle at them to get them to slow down. He drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, and the emotions began to sort themselves into ones he could recognize: Confusion. That was easy enough; he didn't know where he was or why, after all. Fear, the logical follow-up to the absence of that knowledge. Hope was harder to place, though he supposed it could simply be attributed to the fact that he'd awoken at all. Beneath those emotions were slightly more earthy ones: hunger, thirst, weariness.
Then the pain hit, and silenced everything else.
It dragged him fully awake, a ripping, searing pain in his back and neck that, once translated, he realized was actually coming from his half-grown wings.
What the...?
He groaned a little, and slowly forced his eyes open, the pain helping him overcome the rather petulant desire to let the darkness and exhaustion take him down again. Once they were half-open, he allowed himself a moment to breathe, then blinked and shook his head ever so slightly to clear his muddled vision.
It worked. It didn't do much for his confusion, but at least he could see.
The forest around him was warm, which in and of itself was extremely odd, because not thirty yards ahead he could see snow covering the ground, fresh flakes swirling down through the trees.
But beyond that spot, the snow ended, the ground covered instead with a blanket of clover and flower and grass like the one upon which he currently rested. The trees were full, and green, their leaves rustling softly in the breeze. That was another oddity--the breeze. It didn't seem to be affecting the snow, but the branches overhead were swaying lightly, once he turned his head far enough to see them, and the woods, rather than being dark, were suffused with a strange glow. He had a fleeting thought of Lothlorien, from the Fellowship of the Ring movie that Ben had dragged him to see twice in the theater. It wasn't quite that Hollywood, but it certainly wasn't as dark as it seemed it should be, even if he couldn't exactly pinpoint the source of the light.
And then there was the music. It was there, when he wasn't listening; if he focused on it too hard, it would slip out of his awareness, fading back into a hum that reminded him absently of the hum of electricity--a powerful pulse that throbbed just below his senses and permeated the air around him, filling him and drawing him further toward consciousness.
He blinked again, frowning, and pushed himself slowly up, cringing and drawing a sharp hissing breath at the pain this caused him.
"You are awake?"
He jerked, startled, and turned his head quickly--then smiled, slowly.
It was her. The child, the one he'd seen in his dreams. She was crouched in front of him, head tilted to one side, curious golden eyes shining up at him. Her hair, which was a deep, rich brown, was a tangled mess, fanning out around her head, bits of leaf and flower and twig stuck (or perhaps woven) into its messy braids. Her skin was pale blue, as it had been in his visions. In fact, everything about her was exactly as it had been in his visions, down to the musical, almost three dimensional quality of her voice, and Perry found himself wondering why he wasn't more surprised to realize she was real.
"Yes," he replied simply, smile growing a little.
She grinned back, childish features lighting up suddenly. "You were asleep a long time," she informed him. "At least a week. I am to watch you until you wake up."
Perry blinked. A week? "Well... I'm awake now," he said after a moment, unable to think of any other response. The child, whomever she was, had an odd charm about her, and Perry found he liked her instantly.
"Yes. The others are in the trees. Will you stay awake if I go fetch them?" she looked at him rather doubtfully, as if he might be trying to trick her with his consciousness.
Perry bit the inside of his lip to keep himself from chuckling. "Promise," he said solemnly.
"Good. Oh, and do not move," she added, raising both eyebrows, face serious. "You have been broken, and the singing is not finished."
With those rather cryptic words, she snapped her wings out and lifted straight into the air, heading up the side of an enormous tree.
Perry stifled another yelp, blinking to see her vanish so suddenly into the air. When JD took flight, it required some momentum, but the child had gone from crouching, perfectly still, to disappearing into the treetops in a matter of seconds. It reminded him a little of the way Jack flew, though it was far more effortless for this child than it was for his son.
Thoughts of JD and Jack made him ache with sudden homesickness, so to distract himself, he strained his neck upward, trying to see through the swaying boughs. The movement, however, jarred his injured wings and he winced, lowering his head again.
He focused instead on taking stock of his situation. The pain made it a little difficult, but he was able to assess that the rest of his body seemed fine--no frostbite, no lingering effects from his ill-equipped three-day hike through the mountains. No other cuts or injuries, no broken bones--apart from his wings, in fact, he seemed to be in perfect health. He was a little hungry, but certainly not so much as he would've expected, after three days with barely any food and a week of unconsciousness. And this time, JD hadn't been here to put him on a kio feed, so someone, or something, had been keeping him nourished.
But he was alive--that was a good sign. If they'd wanted him otherwise, after all, they could have done it by now. Maybe they would help him. It certainly seemed they could, at any rate.
It only remained to be seen if they were willing.
The child returned moments later, landing as suddenly as she'd taken off. "See? He is awake!" she said, pointing gleefully.
Perry blinked up at the adult who had returned with her, and stood now towering over the child. He was also blue, though his skin was a deeper hue than the child's. His hair was silver, and slightly more tame, though there were still bits of foliage woven into it. His eyes were lavender, the same shape as the child's, and when he smiled, they crinkled slightly. "So he is," he said. "Well done, Aleiah. You may go, if you choose."
She shook her head. "I will stay," she announced. "He is not frightened of me." She settled back on the ground beside Perry, studying him openly.
The adult Fae's smile was more amused, this time, but he didn't stop her. Instead he knelt, touching Perry's heart lightly. "I am Aed," he told Perry, "And this is my daughter, Aleiah."
Perry glanced down at the long, slender fingers pressed to his chest, and it was a moment before he overcame his astonishment enough to speak. "I...I'm Perry," he finally replied.
Aed nodded deeply to him, still smiling. "You are welcome here, Perry," he murmured. "Your coming was foretold, and I have been waiting for you. I am a Healer, even as you, though our methods are somewhat different. You must learn mine, to take back to your people--the ones who cannot accept their Gifts."
Perry gaped at him, trying to absorb everything he'd just been told. It was made slightly more difficult by the manner in which the Fae spoke--like his daughter, his voice was nearly three dimensional, and Perry could almost imagine he could see it. "I... I beg your pardon?" he said finally. "A healer?"
"You heal the sick, the injured, do you not?" When Perry nodded, Aed looked satisfied. "As do I," he replied evenly. "It is our calling. You were meant to come here, for it will be much easier to teach one such as you our methods."
One such as me--oh! "A doctor?" Perry replied, finally understanding. "You mean you wanted a doctor?"
"Is that what you call your Healers?" Aleiah asked, wrinkling her nose slightly. "It's a silly word."
Aed smiled again faintly. "In a way. But many of your doctors are not Healers, in the true sense. You are. You are also a teacher, which is also important, because you will be entrusted to bring the knowledge we will share with you to others. But much of this can wait." He nodded toward Perry's wings, which lay crippled and still aching sharply against his back. "We must first complete your Gift," the Fae told him. "And for that you must help me."
"My Gift...? You mean my Change?" Perry breathed, eyes widening. "You can help me finish Changing?"
"It has already begun," Aed confirmed, looking again at the injured, half-grown appendages. "In the healing of the injury we inflicted upon them, the process would be reactivated."
"Would be?" Perry repeated with a little trepidation.
Aed smiled again, soothingly. "We will not make you wait," he clarified gently.
Perry frowned, but nodded. "I...okay," he replied.
Aed shifted, sitting cross-legged beside him, one hand resting light as a feather against the broken wings. "Close your eyes," he murmured, "and follow the song."
With that, he began to sing. In color. It was the closest Perry could come to describing the sensation to himself, as the extra depth of the Fae's voice wove around him, nearly visible. The hum of energy he'd felt upon waking seemed to grow as well, becoming more focused, more intense. And as he listened, eyes wide, he realized he could hear music in it, even though the language was unfamiliar to him. He finally remembered he was supposed to be closing his eyes, and did so, feeling the swell of music grow more powerful; feeling it sink into his body, outlining the paths of veins and nerves he hadn't fully known he had. In no time he was rushing through them, watching Aed knitting cells back together, encouraging tissue to heal. A warmth shot through him, dispelling the remaining pain, and he drew a free breath once more, eyes gradually opening again.
"It is done," Aed's smile now was warm, inviting, and Perry realized in surprise that Aleiah was all but in his lap, grinning up at him. "Your Gift is complete. And now you must rest. We will take you to your dwelling; when you wake, there will be much to learn."
"My Gif..." Perry trailed off, twisting around and trying to see. His wings lay folded tightly against his spine as always, though they did seem to extend further toward the small of his back than they had before...
He glanced at Aed and Aleiah, a little dubious, but they simply watched, Aleiah smiling encouragingly. Perry shrugged to himself, and experimentally attempted to extend one of his wings.
Then felt his mouth drop open with awe.
What had before only extended maybe two feet, at the most, now grew and stretched to nearly thirteen. He realized he could feel the blood rushing to fill them, hardening the jointed arm of the wing, and the long, curved fingers of the tips. As before, the membrane between the joints stretched, pulled taut like elastic, but it was tougher now, snapping with energy as he gave an experimental twitch.
He drew it in again, folding it, the joints collapsing in upon themselves but retaining their hardness. He frowned, biting his lip, and realized there was a difference in the way he folded them, when he intended to keep using them, versus folding them to rest against his back again. He didn't know how or why he knew this, but he did.
Instinct with the Change, he thought slowly, remembering JD flying on his second try, swooping gracefully through the sky with ease. And it was true: he could have easily had the wings all his life. They felt that comfortable, that logical.
Aleiah laughed, and he knew it had to be at the expression of awe on his face, but he couldn't help it. He snapped the wing in, looking a little sheepish, and smiled. "I...thank you," he said, when he could speak.
Aed nodded acknowledgement. "We have helped you," he said. "And now you will help us in return."
Perry nodded quickly. "More than happy to," he said. "I'll come right back, after I head home and let everyone else know I'm all right--"
"No," Aed said gently, and Perry halted, frowning slowly.
"No?" he repeated.
"No," Aed said again, looking sympathetic. "I'm sorry, but you cannot leave yet."
Perry's frown deepened, and he looked at Aleiah, then at Aed. "I'll come right back," he said slowly. "I swear it. I just...I left someone behind, and I need to tell him that...that I'm all right." Assuming he even still cares, a snide voice in his mind added, but he shoved it aside roughly.
Aed shook his head. "You cannot leave the barrier," he insisted, though his voice remained gentle. "Not until you have awareness of the Song, and can manipulate it for yourself. We took it down to let you in. But we have not the energy left in our colony to take it down again so soon."
"I don't understand," Perry said slowly.
Aed sighed. "The colony is protected by a barrier, built with the energy of the Song," he explained. "The same song which has just healed you, and completed your gift. It has kept us hidden for centuries, and protects the Younglings from the elements until they learn to control them. But it also guards from intrusion. For a Fae to enter or leave, he must alter the weaving of the song, within himself and without, to slip through the barrier. But you have not this ability. For you to leave..."
"The whole barrier would have to be torn down," Aleiah jumped in. "We did it before, but it was really hard! The Elders were singing for days. That was why I was to watch you."
Perry stared at her, then back at Aed. "So...I'm trapped here?"
"It is a wonderful place!" Aleiah assured him quickly, eyes growing wide and slightly hurt.
"I'm certain it is," Perry said quickly. "I'm just..."
Aed smiled softly. "You are worried."
Perry nodded. "I... yes," he said slowly. "I'm afraid when I left, I... I said some things I shouldn't have, to someone I care about very much. I'm just..." he waved his hand vaguely, then dropped it back into his lap, swallowing.
"You fear he will not forgive you."
Perry nodded, throat tightening. "I do," he whispered. Then he looked up. "Please--I need to go to him. I have to know. Isn't there any way?"
"When you learn the Song, learn to heal, you will be able to open the barrier for yourself," Aed assured him gently. "Until then, I am afraid you must stay. But fear not. If you apply yourself to your studies, you should be able to learn all you need to know in the turning of one moon."
"The turning of one moon?" Perry repeated slowly. "A month?"
Aleiah tilted her head at him. "That is what you call it?"
"That's too long," Perry said, shaking his head. "If it's dangerous out here, then it's dangerous where they are too, and I can't leave them alone."
"You have no choice," Aed repeated, reaching out and laying his slender fingers against Perry's scaled forearm.
Perry jerked it away, scowling. "Like hell I don't," he muttered, snapping out his wings. He looked up, toward the night sky, and focused all his energy on the instinct within him, and on his desire to get back to JD and Jack. He twitched the finger joints of his wings briefly, testing the air, then crouched, and leapt upward with all his strength. He raised his wings to their full height, then, in a swooping motion, gathered the air in the sails of the membranes and shoved it toward the earth, feeling himself propelled upward.
It was a breathtaking feeling, but Perry did not spend much time focused on the thrill of flight. He focused instead on the sky, climbing, rising above the treetops and toward the clouds, determined to get back home. Back to his friends; his lover and his son. Back to his family.
Soon, however, he realized that though he had risen into the air, he could not rise any further. His wings flapped uselessly, and he could not gain any more altitude; finally, exhausted by the effort, he settled back, hovering, wings moving in awkward circles. Every third beat or so, the tips of the membrane would brush against his forearms, and he blinked, distantly registering the purpose of the scales. With them, the snap of the wingtips barely registered, but without them, he knew he'd been feeling it quite acutely.
Too depressed by his failure to feel any marked interest in his discovery, he gazed despondently over the mountains, the snow-covered treetops, back in the direction of the cabin. The snow was falling thickly, and the distance, darkness, and obstruction of the mountains made it impossible to see anything, but he pictured it anyway--the log walls, the long gravel driveway, the toolshed. The smoke rising from the chimney where the others would have no doubt built up a fire, to share warmth and ward off the cold. Or perhaps everyone was asleep, curled under blankets--how late was it, anyway? Maybe they were dreaming.
Or maybe Carla and Turk, or Elliot and Sean, were up to other activities. The thought made him ache--JD would be alone, the option for that kind of closeness not even open to him. Did he miss it at all? Miss the feel of Perry's arms around him, or the feeling of their bodies pressed close together in the darkness? Miss the feel of Perry's lips against his, the sound of his voice as they murmured to one another in those last sleepy snatches of conversation before drifting off?
Or did he drop right off to sleep, curled around a pillow and finding it to be just as suitable a bedmate?
Aed appeared before him a moment later, hovering silently, wings moving too quickly to catch the motion. Perry turned toward him, and the Fae watched him, face sympathetic. "Come," he said gently, then turned and headed back down into the forest.
Perry swallowed, then sighed and followed, tucking his wings in and diving. He snapped them open again when he reached the canopy, gliding a little before he finally spotted a clearing large enough to accommodate his wings. He tucked them in again, so they were only partially unfurled, and dove to the ground, landing with a thump and a slight stagger.
A giggle from the trees made him glance up, a glare on his face; Aleiah appeared a moment later, still grinning.
"Okay, so I'll need practice at that part," Perry said, wrinkling his nose, then smiling a little when the child laughed again.
"You can practice tomorrow," she told him. "Right now it is dark, and Papa says you should sleep more." She sighed, scratching her head. "I do not understand why you must sleep again," she added. "You have slept for days!"
Perry's smile grew a little. "Probably to build up my strength," he said, realizing with some embarrassment that he was exhausted again, after his brief flight and battle with the invisible barrier. "And probably so I can learn this Song of yours."
"Oh, it is not very hard to learn," Aleiah said easily, waving her hand. "You just have to listen, and do what it tells you to do."
"Ah, but you thought differently a few years ago, Aleiah, when you were first learning it, did you not?" Aed said, appearing from the treeline as well, looking amused. He looked up at Perry and lifted his eyebrows, eyes crinkling again, and Perry couldn't help but smile back, despite his frustration at being unable to return home.
Aleiah looked offended. "That was ages ago!" she protested. "Besides, I was still a bairn. I'm almost a Middle Fledgling!"
"Almost," Aed agreed, placing a subtle emphasis on the word that Perry caught, but which seemed to escape Aleiah. Placated, she nodded at Perry, and grinned broadly; Perry noted for the first time there was a gap in her lower teeth, and realized just how young she truly was.
He sighed, drawing in his wings dejectedly, realizing he was not going to be going home for a while. Not that he disliked the Fae--or at least what little he'd met of them--but he missed his family. He missed JD. And right then, the wish to see his face, touch him, hear his voice, hold him, was so keen he literally ached with it.
Aed tilted his head, expression soft as he studied Perry. Then, to his daughter, he said, "Aleiah, perhaps you would be willing to check on our guest's dwelling, and make certain it is ready for him."
Aleiah looked up at her father, confused, but at his nod she shrugged a little, opening her wings and grinning at Perry again. "We grew a nest for you!" she said. "It is like the ones in the crèche for the bairns, and for the Mothers, only bigger, and we put the best of the silk crop weavings in it, and--"
"Yes, Aleiah," Aed cut her off. "In a moment I will allow you to show him yourself, but first we must make certain it is fit for him, and I wish to speak to him alone."
"Oh!" Aleiah said. "Yes, Papa." She smiled at her father, then waved at Perry, before spinning and taking off again, vanishing into the trees.
Aed turned back to Perry and approached, moving until he stood very close, his purple irises staring unblinkingly into Perry's. "You are hurting," he murmured gently, fingers moving to press against Perry's chest again, over his heart.
"I..." Perry trailed off, not wishing to lie to his new hosts, but not wishing to offend them, either. According to Aleiah, after all, they had spent a good deal of effort preparing for his arrival, and he didn't wish them to think him ungrateful. But he knew there was no point trying to hide just how much he wanted to leave. "I am," he said at last. "I miss my...my family. I just want to see them, and make sure they're...that they're okay."
"You will," Aed replied at length, not removing his hand. "But not yet. You have skill to learn--and learn it you must, for when you return, the life of one dear to you will depend on it."
"JD?" Perry asked automatically, eyes widening, but Aed simply smiled.
"Rest first," he said gently, bending forward and pressing a soft kiss to Perry's brow. "In the morning we will begin. Aleiah will return shortly, and show you to your dwelling."
He smiled, then drew his hand away from Perry's chest, bowing his head slightly before winging back up into the trees.
Perry stared after him, feeling a little stunned, then jumped again when Aleiah suddenly reappeared, landing before him and reaching for his hand.
"Come with me," she said, tugging lightly. "I'll show you where you can sleep."
He allowed her to lead him, walking through the trees deeper into the settlement--further from the barrier, until the snow was no longer visible behind them, and it might as well have been midsummer. The woods around them grew brighter, the glow deepening, and he realized as he walked that he could hear the other Fae in the trees, singing softly, or speaking in their musical voices. He peered up toward the canopy, squinting, trying to see the owners of the voices, and nearly ran into a tree in the process. After that, he decided to keep his attention focused on the Fae child in front of him, turning his mind firmly from the image of the teasing he would've gotten, had JD seen that.
Eventually they entered a clearing, and stopped, Aleiah turning toward him. "This is your nest," she said, pointing at a large tree in front of them.
Perry stared at it, then at her, wondering if he was missing something. "It is?"
She looked exasperated, pointing up toward the canopy, and Perry lifted his eyes--then drew a sharp breath through his nose, startled.
The tree grew normally, for maybe twenty feet or so, but where the branches began, instead of being spread haphazardly, they were woven together, twisted around, forming a sort of gigantic cocoon of limbs and leaves. The latticework was tighter near the base, but as it neared the top, it opened, growing looser and less closed. At the top, the branches all came together again, closing the structure off; Perry blinked, realizing this was the reason he hadn't been able to spot the owners of the voices. The cocoons blended in with the surrounding tree branches almost perfectly, and it was only now that he'd seen this one, exposed in the clearing, that he could spot the others, surrounding it, spreading out through the treetops.
"It's...lovely," he said after a moment, when he realized Aleiah was watching him expectantly.
She beamed, nodding. "We made it the week you arrived," she told him, smiling. "Papa said we were not to move you from the ground until the song was complete, but now that it is, you can stop sleeping on the grass."
"Thank you," Perry said after another long moment. "It really does look...comfortable. Um--how do I get in?" From where he was standing, there didn't seem to be a break in the lattice of branches large enough for him to squeeze into the enclosure.
"Oh!" Aleiah giggled, then dashed over to the tree, wrapping her arms around the trunk and gazing up into the branches. Then, softly, she began to sing, a high-pitched, childish melody that was no less beautiful for all its immaturity. And a moment later, the tops of the branches shuddered, and uncoiled; in a gesture that reminded Perry of a tulip opening to the sun, the cocoon opened, leaving a large open bowl.
He realized his mouth was hanging open and snapped it shut quickly, looking at the child, who gave the tree one last squeeze before releasing it and patting it softly in thanks. "There you are," she said to Perry, giggling slightly at the look on his face.
He offered her a weak smile, wondering just how comfortable he felt sleeping in an apparently alive tree, then deciding he didn't want to run the risk of offending his hosts. If it was going to take their teaching to allow him to get home again, well...he didn't want to do anything that would make them decide to withhold that teaching.
Opening his wings again, he bit his lip a little uncertainly before springing up again, taking to the air, flapping awkwardly until he could settle at last into the bowl of branches. The bottom was actually more comfortable than he'd feared; the branches were laced around one another tight enough at the base that it was nearly flat, and there were leaves piled into the bowl, covered in several layers of what appeared to be silk. It was not as finely woven as department store silk, but it was just as soft, and very plentiful. There were also woven pillows, made from some sort of woolen material, and comforters that Perry realized must be stuffed with down, they were that soft.
"Are you satisfied?" Aleiah called from the ground, and he moved to one wall, peering down at her through a gap in the branches.
"Very," he said, actually meaning it. "Thank you, it's...quite cozy."
She giggled again, and suddenly rose through the air, appearing over the top of the canopy and perching on one of the branches, which seemed to bend toward her to accommodate her more comfortably. "Good," she said, looking pleased. "I helped line the nest, you know."
"Oh," Perry said. "I--I didn't know, but thank you. It's...lovely."
She beamed, then flitted into the nest, wrapping her arms around Perry's neck in a tight hug before pressing a kiss to his cheek. Perry, growing accustomed to the apparently rather cuddly nature of the creatures, wrapped his arms around the child's back and hugged her close for a moment, taking comfort in the contact before releasing her again.
She smiled softly, laying a gentle hand against his cheek for a minute. "Goodnight, Human Perry," she said. "Sleep sweetly."
Then she was gone, flitting up above the canopy, and the branches groaned and creaked a little as the twisted closed behind her, encasing Perry in the nest.
He sighed, absently glad he wasn't claustrophobic, and settled down into the bedding. After however long he'd been sleeping in a bedroll on the hard ground, the nest really was very comfortable, and he felt knots of tension he didn't know he'd been carrying finally beginning to give way.
However, as his mind began to drift, it wandered back to the last time he'd felt this comfortable--the last night he'd slept in a real bed. The night before his fight with JD.
He shuddered, squeezing his eyes closed as he recalled that afternoon, recalled the look on JD's face as he'd systematically destroyed everything they'd had together for the past few weeks. Recalled the night after, too--barely speaking to one another, catching the surreptitious, heartbroken glances JD cast him as they ate dinner. Listening to JD cry quietly into his pillow while he hid in the bathroom, and somehow forcing himself to not go out to comfort him. That had been one of the most difficult things Perry had ever done. His own tears had fallen in answer, silently, as he'd stood, waiting for JD to fall asleep.
He shook himself, reminding himself firmly why he'd done it. It was too dangerous for them both to come, after all. The Fae had turned out to be friendly, but there was no way they could've been guaranteed of that, and Jack would need someone to look after him--a father. One who loved him as much as Perry did himself.
And besides, he reminded himself, it had worked. He'd found the Fae. He was here, he had his wings, he wasn't dying--and he'd learn to heal, apparently.
He shook his head slowly, a smile twitching at the corners of his lips despite himself. He'd learn to heal, and he could teach JD, and they'd put themselves out of business, because who would need modern medicine, if there were forces in the world that could do this? He unfurled one of his wings, glancing at it with a smile before snapping it back in tight against his back. JD was going to be impressed...
He shook himself. God, can you not keep your mind off him for five seconds? But he couldn't, he knew. Not until he could know where JD was, what he was doing--if he was okay.
He wondered, as he settled into the bedding and pulled one of the comforters over himself, if JD had found his letter. Probably not--he'd hidden it pretty well. Maybe he would be back before JD found it. That would be good--sure, JD wouldn't know why he'd left, but at least he wouldn't have cause to suspect Perry was in trouble. Maybe he'd just think Perry was off sulking, or had decided to back off until things got less awkward. At least that way he wouldn't worry.
He reached up and snagged one of the large pillows, curling around it, hugging it to his chest to fill the empty ache in his arms. As he felt himself relaxing, he sent a swift prayer back home to his family: Sleep well, Jacky--sweet dreams. Goodnight, JD. May you forgive me, when I get back to you.
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Next Chapter
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Characters: John Dorian/Perry Cox
Rating: NC-17 (eventually)
Chapter Rating: PG-13 (language)
Description: This is a wildly AU story with fantastical elements based on
thuri's Nano writing project. It begins late in season three, before Carla and Turk's wedding, and from there follows the characters as they face the Change, a strange, magical phenomenon that is turning ordinary humans into half-human creatures from fantasy.Chapter listings: Contents Post
Author's Note: Hey all! As you probably saw with the poll post earlier, I (
randomslasher) am now safely in California. Chilling on thuri's couch at the moment, in fact. Because I'm here, though, and because we're often out and doing things, the postings are going to be a little random. Sorry about that! Today's post is actually Sunday's, belated, so we'll try to get the next part out by Sunday. If we get it done sooner, though, we'll post it sooner. Our posting schedule kind of fell apart at the end here, but we'll still get you at least one chapter a week.Four more chapters to go after this, plus the epilogue!
* * *
The first emotion Perry felt upon his slow return to consciousness was surprise.
I'm alive?
This was quickly followed by several others, which crowded into his mind so quickly he was half-tempted to whistle at them to get them to slow down. He drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, and the emotions began to sort themselves into ones he could recognize: Confusion. That was easy enough; he didn't know where he was or why, after all. Fear, the logical follow-up to the absence of that knowledge. Hope was harder to place, though he supposed it could simply be attributed to the fact that he'd awoken at all. Beneath those emotions were slightly more earthy ones: hunger, thirst, weariness.
Then the pain hit, and silenced everything else.
It dragged him fully awake, a ripping, searing pain in his back and neck that, once translated, he realized was actually coming from his half-grown wings.
What the...?
He groaned a little, and slowly forced his eyes open, the pain helping him overcome the rather petulant desire to let the darkness and exhaustion take him down again. Once they were half-open, he allowed himself a moment to breathe, then blinked and shook his head ever so slightly to clear his muddled vision.
It worked. It didn't do much for his confusion, but at least he could see.
The forest around him was warm, which in and of itself was extremely odd, because not thirty yards ahead he could see snow covering the ground, fresh flakes swirling down through the trees.
But beyond that spot, the snow ended, the ground covered instead with a blanket of clover and flower and grass like the one upon which he currently rested. The trees were full, and green, their leaves rustling softly in the breeze. That was another oddity--the breeze. It didn't seem to be affecting the snow, but the branches overhead were swaying lightly, once he turned his head far enough to see them, and the woods, rather than being dark, were suffused with a strange glow. He had a fleeting thought of Lothlorien, from the Fellowship of the Ring movie that Ben had dragged him to see twice in the theater. It wasn't quite that Hollywood, but it certainly wasn't as dark as it seemed it should be, even if he couldn't exactly pinpoint the source of the light.
And then there was the music. It was there, when he wasn't listening; if he focused on it too hard, it would slip out of his awareness, fading back into a hum that reminded him absently of the hum of electricity--a powerful pulse that throbbed just below his senses and permeated the air around him, filling him and drawing him further toward consciousness.
He blinked again, frowning, and pushed himself slowly up, cringing and drawing a sharp hissing breath at the pain this caused him.
"You are awake?"
He jerked, startled, and turned his head quickly--then smiled, slowly.
It was her. The child, the one he'd seen in his dreams. She was crouched in front of him, head tilted to one side, curious golden eyes shining up at him. Her hair, which was a deep, rich brown, was a tangled mess, fanning out around her head, bits of leaf and flower and twig stuck (or perhaps woven) into its messy braids. Her skin was pale blue, as it had been in his visions. In fact, everything about her was exactly as it had been in his visions, down to the musical, almost three dimensional quality of her voice, and Perry found himself wondering why he wasn't more surprised to realize she was real.
"Yes," he replied simply, smile growing a little.
She grinned back, childish features lighting up suddenly. "You were asleep a long time," she informed him. "At least a week. I am to watch you until you wake up."
Perry blinked. A week? "Well... I'm awake now," he said after a moment, unable to think of any other response. The child, whomever she was, had an odd charm about her, and Perry found he liked her instantly.
"Yes. The others are in the trees. Will you stay awake if I go fetch them?" she looked at him rather doubtfully, as if he might be trying to trick her with his consciousness.
Perry bit the inside of his lip to keep himself from chuckling. "Promise," he said solemnly.
"Good. Oh, and do not move," she added, raising both eyebrows, face serious. "You have been broken, and the singing is not finished."
With those rather cryptic words, she snapped her wings out and lifted straight into the air, heading up the side of an enormous tree.
Perry stifled another yelp, blinking to see her vanish so suddenly into the air. When JD took flight, it required some momentum, but the child had gone from crouching, perfectly still, to disappearing into the treetops in a matter of seconds. It reminded him a little of the way Jack flew, though it was far more effortless for this child than it was for his son.
Thoughts of JD and Jack made him ache with sudden homesickness, so to distract himself, he strained his neck upward, trying to see through the swaying boughs. The movement, however, jarred his injured wings and he winced, lowering his head again.
He focused instead on taking stock of his situation. The pain made it a little difficult, but he was able to assess that the rest of his body seemed fine--no frostbite, no lingering effects from his ill-equipped three-day hike through the mountains. No other cuts or injuries, no broken bones--apart from his wings, in fact, he seemed to be in perfect health. He was a little hungry, but certainly not so much as he would've expected, after three days with barely any food and a week of unconsciousness. And this time, JD hadn't been here to put him on a kio feed, so someone, or something, had been keeping him nourished.
But he was alive--that was a good sign. If they'd wanted him otherwise, after all, they could have done it by now. Maybe they would help him. It certainly seemed they could, at any rate.
It only remained to be seen if they were willing.
The child returned moments later, landing as suddenly as she'd taken off. "See? He is awake!" she said, pointing gleefully.
Perry blinked up at the adult who had returned with her, and stood now towering over the child. He was also blue, though his skin was a deeper hue than the child's. His hair was silver, and slightly more tame, though there were still bits of foliage woven into it. His eyes were lavender, the same shape as the child's, and when he smiled, they crinkled slightly. "So he is," he said. "Well done, Aleiah. You may go, if you choose."
She shook her head. "I will stay," she announced. "He is not frightened of me." She settled back on the ground beside Perry, studying him openly.
The adult Fae's smile was more amused, this time, but he didn't stop her. Instead he knelt, touching Perry's heart lightly. "I am Aed," he told Perry, "And this is my daughter, Aleiah."
Perry glanced down at the long, slender fingers pressed to his chest, and it was a moment before he overcame his astonishment enough to speak. "I...I'm Perry," he finally replied.
Aed nodded deeply to him, still smiling. "You are welcome here, Perry," he murmured. "Your coming was foretold, and I have been waiting for you. I am a Healer, even as you, though our methods are somewhat different. You must learn mine, to take back to your people--the ones who cannot accept their Gifts."
Perry gaped at him, trying to absorb everything he'd just been told. It was made slightly more difficult by the manner in which the Fae spoke--like his daughter, his voice was nearly three dimensional, and Perry could almost imagine he could see it. "I... I beg your pardon?" he said finally. "A healer?"
"You heal the sick, the injured, do you not?" When Perry nodded, Aed looked satisfied. "As do I," he replied evenly. "It is our calling. You were meant to come here, for it will be much easier to teach one such as you our methods."
One such as me--oh! "A doctor?" Perry replied, finally understanding. "You mean you wanted a doctor?"
"Is that what you call your Healers?" Aleiah asked, wrinkling her nose slightly. "It's a silly word."
Aed smiled again faintly. "In a way. But many of your doctors are not Healers, in the true sense. You are. You are also a teacher, which is also important, because you will be entrusted to bring the knowledge we will share with you to others. But much of this can wait." He nodded toward Perry's wings, which lay crippled and still aching sharply against his back. "We must first complete your Gift," the Fae told him. "And for that you must help me."
"My Gift...? You mean my Change?" Perry breathed, eyes widening. "You can help me finish Changing?"
"It has already begun," Aed confirmed, looking again at the injured, half-grown appendages. "In the healing of the injury we inflicted upon them, the process would be reactivated."
"Would be?" Perry repeated with a little trepidation.
Aed smiled again, soothingly. "We will not make you wait," he clarified gently.
Perry frowned, but nodded. "I...okay," he replied.
Aed shifted, sitting cross-legged beside him, one hand resting light as a feather against the broken wings. "Close your eyes," he murmured, "and follow the song."
With that, he began to sing. In color. It was the closest Perry could come to describing the sensation to himself, as the extra depth of the Fae's voice wove around him, nearly visible. The hum of energy he'd felt upon waking seemed to grow as well, becoming more focused, more intense. And as he listened, eyes wide, he realized he could hear music in it, even though the language was unfamiliar to him. He finally remembered he was supposed to be closing his eyes, and did so, feeling the swell of music grow more powerful; feeling it sink into his body, outlining the paths of veins and nerves he hadn't fully known he had. In no time he was rushing through them, watching Aed knitting cells back together, encouraging tissue to heal. A warmth shot through him, dispelling the remaining pain, and he drew a free breath once more, eyes gradually opening again.
"It is done," Aed's smile now was warm, inviting, and Perry realized in surprise that Aleiah was all but in his lap, grinning up at him. "Your Gift is complete. And now you must rest. We will take you to your dwelling; when you wake, there will be much to learn."
"My Gif..." Perry trailed off, twisting around and trying to see. His wings lay folded tightly against his spine as always, though they did seem to extend further toward the small of his back than they had before...
He glanced at Aed and Aleiah, a little dubious, but they simply watched, Aleiah smiling encouragingly. Perry shrugged to himself, and experimentally attempted to extend one of his wings.
Then felt his mouth drop open with awe.
What had before only extended maybe two feet, at the most, now grew and stretched to nearly thirteen. He realized he could feel the blood rushing to fill them, hardening the jointed arm of the wing, and the long, curved fingers of the tips. As before, the membrane between the joints stretched, pulled taut like elastic, but it was tougher now, snapping with energy as he gave an experimental twitch.
He drew it in again, folding it, the joints collapsing in upon themselves but retaining their hardness. He frowned, biting his lip, and realized there was a difference in the way he folded them, when he intended to keep using them, versus folding them to rest against his back again. He didn't know how or why he knew this, but he did.
Instinct with the Change, he thought slowly, remembering JD flying on his second try, swooping gracefully through the sky with ease. And it was true: he could have easily had the wings all his life. They felt that comfortable, that logical.
Aleiah laughed, and he knew it had to be at the expression of awe on his face, but he couldn't help it. He snapped the wing in, looking a little sheepish, and smiled. "I...thank you," he said, when he could speak.
Aed nodded acknowledgement. "We have helped you," he said. "And now you will help us in return."
Perry nodded quickly. "More than happy to," he said. "I'll come right back, after I head home and let everyone else know I'm all right--"
"No," Aed said gently, and Perry halted, frowning slowly.
"No?" he repeated.
"No," Aed said again, looking sympathetic. "I'm sorry, but you cannot leave yet."
Perry's frown deepened, and he looked at Aleiah, then at Aed. "I'll come right back," he said slowly. "I swear it. I just...I left someone behind, and I need to tell him that...that I'm all right." Assuming he even still cares, a snide voice in his mind added, but he shoved it aside roughly.
Aed shook his head. "You cannot leave the barrier," he insisted, though his voice remained gentle. "Not until you have awareness of the Song, and can manipulate it for yourself. We took it down to let you in. But we have not the energy left in our colony to take it down again so soon."
"I don't understand," Perry said slowly.
Aed sighed. "The colony is protected by a barrier, built with the energy of the Song," he explained. "The same song which has just healed you, and completed your gift. It has kept us hidden for centuries, and protects the Younglings from the elements until they learn to control them. But it also guards from intrusion. For a Fae to enter or leave, he must alter the weaving of the song, within himself and without, to slip through the barrier. But you have not this ability. For you to leave..."
"The whole barrier would have to be torn down," Aleiah jumped in. "We did it before, but it was really hard! The Elders were singing for days. That was why I was to watch you."
Perry stared at her, then back at Aed. "So...I'm trapped here?"
"It is a wonderful place!" Aleiah assured him quickly, eyes growing wide and slightly hurt.
"I'm certain it is," Perry said quickly. "I'm just..."
Aed smiled softly. "You are worried."
Perry nodded. "I... yes," he said slowly. "I'm afraid when I left, I... I said some things I shouldn't have, to someone I care about very much. I'm just..." he waved his hand vaguely, then dropped it back into his lap, swallowing.
"You fear he will not forgive you."
Perry nodded, throat tightening. "I do," he whispered. Then he looked up. "Please--I need to go to him. I have to know. Isn't there any way?"
"When you learn the Song, learn to heal, you will be able to open the barrier for yourself," Aed assured him gently. "Until then, I am afraid you must stay. But fear not. If you apply yourself to your studies, you should be able to learn all you need to know in the turning of one moon."
"The turning of one moon?" Perry repeated slowly. "A month?"
Aleiah tilted her head at him. "That is what you call it?"
"That's too long," Perry said, shaking his head. "If it's dangerous out here, then it's dangerous where they are too, and I can't leave them alone."
"You have no choice," Aed repeated, reaching out and laying his slender fingers against Perry's scaled forearm.
Perry jerked it away, scowling. "Like hell I don't," he muttered, snapping out his wings. He looked up, toward the night sky, and focused all his energy on the instinct within him, and on his desire to get back to JD and Jack. He twitched the finger joints of his wings briefly, testing the air, then crouched, and leapt upward with all his strength. He raised his wings to their full height, then, in a swooping motion, gathered the air in the sails of the membranes and shoved it toward the earth, feeling himself propelled upward.
It was a breathtaking feeling, but Perry did not spend much time focused on the thrill of flight. He focused instead on the sky, climbing, rising above the treetops and toward the clouds, determined to get back home. Back to his friends; his lover and his son. Back to his family.
Soon, however, he realized that though he had risen into the air, he could not rise any further. His wings flapped uselessly, and he could not gain any more altitude; finally, exhausted by the effort, he settled back, hovering, wings moving in awkward circles. Every third beat or so, the tips of the membrane would brush against his forearms, and he blinked, distantly registering the purpose of the scales. With them, the snap of the wingtips barely registered, but without them, he knew he'd been feeling it quite acutely.
Too depressed by his failure to feel any marked interest in his discovery, he gazed despondently over the mountains, the snow-covered treetops, back in the direction of the cabin. The snow was falling thickly, and the distance, darkness, and obstruction of the mountains made it impossible to see anything, but he pictured it anyway--the log walls, the long gravel driveway, the toolshed. The smoke rising from the chimney where the others would have no doubt built up a fire, to share warmth and ward off the cold. Or perhaps everyone was asleep, curled under blankets--how late was it, anyway? Maybe they were dreaming.
Or maybe Carla and Turk, or Elliot and Sean, were up to other activities. The thought made him ache--JD would be alone, the option for that kind of closeness not even open to him. Did he miss it at all? Miss the feel of Perry's arms around him, or the feeling of their bodies pressed close together in the darkness? Miss the feel of Perry's lips against his, the sound of his voice as they murmured to one another in those last sleepy snatches of conversation before drifting off?
Or did he drop right off to sleep, curled around a pillow and finding it to be just as suitable a bedmate?
Aed appeared before him a moment later, hovering silently, wings moving too quickly to catch the motion. Perry turned toward him, and the Fae watched him, face sympathetic. "Come," he said gently, then turned and headed back down into the forest.
Perry swallowed, then sighed and followed, tucking his wings in and diving. He snapped them open again when he reached the canopy, gliding a little before he finally spotted a clearing large enough to accommodate his wings. He tucked them in again, so they were only partially unfurled, and dove to the ground, landing with a thump and a slight stagger.
A giggle from the trees made him glance up, a glare on his face; Aleiah appeared a moment later, still grinning.
"Okay, so I'll need practice at that part," Perry said, wrinkling his nose, then smiling a little when the child laughed again.
"You can practice tomorrow," she told him. "Right now it is dark, and Papa says you should sleep more." She sighed, scratching her head. "I do not understand why you must sleep again," she added. "You have slept for days!"
Perry's smile grew a little. "Probably to build up my strength," he said, realizing with some embarrassment that he was exhausted again, after his brief flight and battle with the invisible barrier. "And probably so I can learn this Song of yours."
"Oh, it is not very hard to learn," Aleiah said easily, waving her hand. "You just have to listen, and do what it tells you to do."
"Ah, but you thought differently a few years ago, Aleiah, when you were first learning it, did you not?" Aed said, appearing from the treeline as well, looking amused. He looked up at Perry and lifted his eyebrows, eyes crinkling again, and Perry couldn't help but smile back, despite his frustration at being unable to return home.
Aleiah looked offended. "That was ages ago!" she protested. "Besides, I was still a bairn. I'm almost a Middle Fledgling!"
"Almost," Aed agreed, placing a subtle emphasis on the word that Perry caught, but which seemed to escape Aleiah. Placated, she nodded at Perry, and grinned broadly; Perry noted for the first time there was a gap in her lower teeth, and realized just how young she truly was.
He sighed, drawing in his wings dejectedly, realizing he was not going to be going home for a while. Not that he disliked the Fae--or at least what little he'd met of them--but he missed his family. He missed JD. And right then, the wish to see his face, touch him, hear his voice, hold him, was so keen he literally ached with it.
Aed tilted his head, expression soft as he studied Perry. Then, to his daughter, he said, "Aleiah, perhaps you would be willing to check on our guest's dwelling, and make certain it is ready for him."
Aleiah looked up at her father, confused, but at his nod she shrugged a little, opening her wings and grinning at Perry again. "We grew a nest for you!" she said. "It is like the ones in the crèche for the bairns, and for the Mothers, only bigger, and we put the best of the silk crop weavings in it, and--"
"Yes, Aleiah," Aed cut her off. "In a moment I will allow you to show him yourself, but first we must make certain it is fit for him, and I wish to speak to him alone."
"Oh!" Aleiah said. "Yes, Papa." She smiled at her father, then waved at Perry, before spinning and taking off again, vanishing into the trees.
Aed turned back to Perry and approached, moving until he stood very close, his purple irises staring unblinkingly into Perry's. "You are hurting," he murmured gently, fingers moving to press against Perry's chest again, over his heart.
"I..." Perry trailed off, not wishing to lie to his new hosts, but not wishing to offend them, either. According to Aleiah, after all, they had spent a good deal of effort preparing for his arrival, and he didn't wish them to think him ungrateful. But he knew there was no point trying to hide just how much he wanted to leave. "I am," he said at last. "I miss my...my family. I just want to see them, and make sure they're...that they're okay."
"You will," Aed replied at length, not removing his hand. "But not yet. You have skill to learn--and learn it you must, for when you return, the life of one dear to you will depend on it."
"JD?" Perry asked automatically, eyes widening, but Aed simply smiled.
"Rest first," he said gently, bending forward and pressing a soft kiss to Perry's brow. "In the morning we will begin. Aleiah will return shortly, and show you to your dwelling."
He smiled, then drew his hand away from Perry's chest, bowing his head slightly before winging back up into the trees.
Perry stared after him, feeling a little stunned, then jumped again when Aleiah suddenly reappeared, landing before him and reaching for his hand.
"Come with me," she said, tugging lightly. "I'll show you where you can sleep."
He allowed her to lead him, walking through the trees deeper into the settlement--further from the barrier, until the snow was no longer visible behind them, and it might as well have been midsummer. The woods around them grew brighter, the glow deepening, and he realized as he walked that he could hear the other Fae in the trees, singing softly, or speaking in their musical voices. He peered up toward the canopy, squinting, trying to see the owners of the voices, and nearly ran into a tree in the process. After that, he decided to keep his attention focused on the Fae child in front of him, turning his mind firmly from the image of the teasing he would've gotten, had JD seen that.
Eventually they entered a clearing, and stopped, Aleiah turning toward him. "This is your nest," she said, pointing at a large tree in front of them.
Perry stared at it, then at her, wondering if he was missing something. "It is?"
She looked exasperated, pointing up toward the canopy, and Perry lifted his eyes--then drew a sharp breath through his nose, startled.
The tree grew normally, for maybe twenty feet or so, but where the branches began, instead of being spread haphazardly, they were woven together, twisted around, forming a sort of gigantic cocoon of limbs and leaves. The latticework was tighter near the base, but as it neared the top, it opened, growing looser and less closed. At the top, the branches all came together again, closing the structure off; Perry blinked, realizing this was the reason he hadn't been able to spot the owners of the voices. The cocoons blended in with the surrounding tree branches almost perfectly, and it was only now that he'd seen this one, exposed in the clearing, that he could spot the others, surrounding it, spreading out through the treetops.
"It's...lovely," he said after a moment, when he realized Aleiah was watching him expectantly.
She beamed, nodding. "We made it the week you arrived," she told him, smiling. "Papa said we were not to move you from the ground until the song was complete, but now that it is, you can stop sleeping on the grass."
"Thank you," Perry said after another long moment. "It really does look...comfortable. Um--how do I get in?" From where he was standing, there didn't seem to be a break in the lattice of branches large enough for him to squeeze into the enclosure.
"Oh!" Aleiah giggled, then dashed over to the tree, wrapping her arms around the trunk and gazing up into the branches. Then, softly, she began to sing, a high-pitched, childish melody that was no less beautiful for all its immaturity. And a moment later, the tops of the branches shuddered, and uncoiled; in a gesture that reminded Perry of a tulip opening to the sun, the cocoon opened, leaving a large open bowl.
He realized his mouth was hanging open and snapped it shut quickly, looking at the child, who gave the tree one last squeeze before releasing it and patting it softly in thanks. "There you are," she said to Perry, giggling slightly at the look on his face.
He offered her a weak smile, wondering just how comfortable he felt sleeping in an apparently alive tree, then deciding he didn't want to run the risk of offending his hosts. If it was going to take their teaching to allow him to get home again, well...he didn't want to do anything that would make them decide to withhold that teaching.
Opening his wings again, he bit his lip a little uncertainly before springing up again, taking to the air, flapping awkwardly until he could settle at last into the bowl of branches. The bottom was actually more comfortable than he'd feared; the branches were laced around one another tight enough at the base that it was nearly flat, and there were leaves piled into the bowl, covered in several layers of what appeared to be silk. It was not as finely woven as department store silk, but it was just as soft, and very plentiful. There were also woven pillows, made from some sort of woolen material, and comforters that Perry realized must be stuffed with down, they were that soft.
"Are you satisfied?" Aleiah called from the ground, and he moved to one wall, peering down at her through a gap in the branches.
"Very," he said, actually meaning it. "Thank you, it's...quite cozy."
She giggled again, and suddenly rose through the air, appearing over the top of the canopy and perching on one of the branches, which seemed to bend toward her to accommodate her more comfortably. "Good," she said, looking pleased. "I helped line the nest, you know."
"Oh," Perry said. "I--I didn't know, but thank you. It's...lovely."
She beamed, then flitted into the nest, wrapping her arms around Perry's neck in a tight hug before pressing a kiss to his cheek. Perry, growing accustomed to the apparently rather cuddly nature of the creatures, wrapped his arms around the child's back and hugged her close for a moment, taking comfort in the contact before releasing her again.
She smiled softly, laying a gentle hand against his cheek for a minute. "Goodnight, Human Perry," she said. "Sleep sweetly."
Then she was gone, flitting up above the canopy, and the branches groaned and creaked a little as the twisted closed behind her, encasing Perry in the nest.
He sighed, absently glad he wasn't claustrophobic, and settled down into the bedding. After however long he'd been sleeping in a bedroll on the hard ground, the nest really was very comfortable, and he felt knots of tension he didn't know he'd been carrying finally beginning to give way.
However, as his mind began to drift, it wandered back to the last time he'd felt this comfortable--the last night he'd slept in a real bed. The night before his fight with JD.
He shuddered, squeezing his eyes closed as he recalled that afternoon, recalled the look on JD's face as he'd systematically destroyed everything they'd had together for the past few weeks. Recalled the night after, too--barely speaking to one another, catching the surreptitious, heartbroken glances JD cast him as they ate dinner. Listening to JD cry quietly into his pillow while he hid in the bathroom, and somehow forcing himself to not go out to comfort him. That had been one of the most difficult things Perry had ever done. His own tears had fallen in answer, silently, as he'd stood, waiting for JD to fall asleep.
He shook himself, reminding himself firmly why he'd done it. It was too dangerous for them both to come, after all. The Fae had turned out to be friendly, but there was no way they could've been guaranteed of that, and Jack would need someone to look after him--a father. One who loved him as much as Perry did himself.
And besides, he reminded himself, it had worked. He'd found the Fae. He was here, he had his wings, he wasn't dying--and he'd learn to heal, apparently.
He shook his head slowly, a smile twitching at the corners of his lips despite himself. He'd learn to heal, and he could teach JD, and they'd put themselves out of business, because who would need modern medicine, if there were forces in the world that could do this? He unfurled one of his wings, glancing at it with a smile before snapping it back in tight against his back. JD was going to be impressed...
He shook himself. God, can you not keep your mind off him for five seconds? But he couldn't, he knew. Not until he could know where JD was, what he was doing--if he was okay.
He wondered, as he settled into the bedding and pulled one of the comforters over himself, if JD had found his letter. Probably not--he'd hidden it pretty well. Maybe he would be back before JD found it. That would be good--sure, JD wouldn't know why he'd left, but at least he wouldn't have cause to suspect Perry was in trouble. Maybe he'd just think Perry was off sulking, or had decided to back off until things got less awkward. At least that way he wouldn't worry.
He reached up and snagged one of the large pillows, curling around it, hugging it to his chest to fill the empty ache in his arms. As he felt himself relaxing, he sent a swift prayer back home to his family: Sleep well, Jacky--sweet dreams. Goodnight, JD. May you forgive me, when I get back to you.
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Next Chapter
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