To Fly
by Blue

***

Author's note: All of us people who think too much about the physics of
some of the mutant powers in the Marvel universe should enjoy this one.

***

Wind whipped around her from the vantage point she perched on, whistling
in her ears and ruffling through her hair. Though almost October, the
night air felt warm and dry, caressing her bare arms rather than giving
her the shivers that usually came with autumn weather. Wispy clouds raced
across the sky, partially obscuring the stars at times, but the crescent
moon shone though, a constant in the changing heavens. She loved this
spot. On the weekends, the parking lot was filled with the cars of her
peers, who paid no attention to any view other than that inside their own
cars. Luckily, though, this was a school night, and no other living soul
had ventured here to see the panorama.

It was so high here, so lonely. She could see the city lights spreading
out beneath her for miles in a solid glittering blanket stretching to the
feet of the distant mountains, but directly below her lay the blank
darkness of restless water at night. She'd always loved the feeling of
being above everything, alone on her rocky perch. The others never
understood. Sure, they claimed that they did, but they truly didn't
understand the feeling she searched for in high places. She was
different, no getting around it.

She shook her head, wincing slightly at the lingering pain in her neck.
No use dwelling on problems she couldn't solve. She had come here for a
reason, the same one as always. A short release from that world, and the
problems associated with it. But she had only a brief time here. It was,
after all, a school night.

Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, she flexed her shoulders,
forcing the extra muscles to expand and contract, waiting for the searing
pain that always accompanied the action. She squeezed her eyes shut even
tighter, grinding her teeth together and forcing down a scream as the
skin on her shoulder blades stretched almost to the point of tearing,
then bloodlessly split in two places to allow her wings to pass through.
They unfolded with a great whoosh, momentarily caught by the wind, and
she stretched them far above her head, feeling her back crack in several
places and the stretched skin tighten back to its normal tension. The
pain quickly forgotten, she enjoyed the feeling of a full-length stretch,
a luxury that became increasingly hard to come by as more and more
activities ate up her spare time.

A sudden gust of wind rushed by her wings, causing her to gaze up at them
once again. She loved the way they looked, huge and impressive, with
smooth, shiny feathers of all different sizes. She loved the little
rustling noises they made as she let them fall about her shoulders,
settling around her like a thick cloak, and warming her faster than any
jacket ever had. Though they were surprisingly light, her balance was
still thrown off momentarily every time she opened them.

Once again, her thoughts drew back to her friends, her family, everyone
she knew. It wasn't that she particularly minded having people occupy so
much of her life; she enjoyed spending time with them and helping them.
They were a family, and she a part of it, each person assisting the
others with the numerous problems that constantly arose. She needed them,
and they needed her, and she remained happy most of the time as the
oddball loner of the group.

She sometimes just needed to escape, to sort out her own problems by
herself, to fly away from all the conflict. Try as they might, her
friends rarely realized when she was upset, leaving her to cope with most
of her problems alone. And she coped. She'd learned long ago that if she
waited for other people to fix her life, it would remain broken.

She closed her eyes. We know exactly how you feel... She opened her eyes
again, looking out into the twilight. No they didn't. They had no idea
how she felt. No one did.

Gusts of wind tried to catch her wings as she walked slowly to the edge
of the cliff. Keeping them tight to her body, she surveyed the glittering
patchwork of the city beyond the darkness of the lake. It was all so
beautiful, so free, and she longed to join it, to be free as well, both
physically and mentally.

She took a deep breath, arching her back, letting the air out of her
lungs in a long sigh and sank to the ground. She let her legs dangle over
the edge of the sheer cliff, and settled her wings around herself once
again, to ward off the chill settling in the night air. Feeling one of
her feathers catch on the ground, she smoothed them back, careful to
arrange herself so that her feathers didn't trail on the ground and
break.

Not that it mattered anyway.

In the distance, she heard a car driving slowly up the road; she tensed
until the sound indicated that it had turned off before the parking lot.
She looked back to the shimmering vista before her. The last thing that
she wanted to do right now was have to explain anything to anyone. She'd
been explaining enough lately, playing spin-doctor for too many people,
watching them dig themselves deeper into holes no matter what she did,
trying to explain her own problems without success, until she felt sick
from the constant whirling of her life.

We'll help you, they had said. If there's ever anything we can do for
you, we'll be there. Where were they now, when she needed comfort? But
she didn't mind. She knew her place in the world, and didn't delude
herself; she knew that she would never be at the top of anyone's list of
priorities. She was a background figure, a loner, though sometimes she
stepped into the light.

Other voices swirled through her head. I don't know if I care about you
at all anymore. I don't know if I ever cared. Then, the same voice, I
hate you. The hurt welled up again, before she pushed it down with the
tears that for a moment threatened to rise. She was finished crying, and
come what may, she would go on with her life.

A loose feather blew across her arm, tickling slightly and causing her to
glance down. Long, jagged white lines against her tanned skin, the scars
were still visible, though no longer the angry red slashes they had been
after the stitches were removed. Her legs and ribs were almost healed as
well, after long months of therapy, and her back was almost restored to
its normal alignment. She would walk with a limp for a long time, but
that she could deal with. She wished...

She shook her head violently. Wishing hadn't done her any good. She'd
wished and wished, and where was she now? Sitting on the edge of a cliff,
feeling the wind rush past, calling to her, and unable to do a thing
about it. Even if her wings had been large enough to support her weight,
even if her muscles had been strong enough to make them work, even if
flying were physically possible for an upright biped, something would
have gone wrong. Maybe she wouldn't have had the same accident, but there
would have been a similar one. If it was too good to be true, it usually
was, she had been told once.

How was she to have known that they weren't functional? That her wings
were merely decorative, good only for dramatics and warmth? That she
could barely glide under the best of circumstances, and that on the one
occasion in which she had tried to fly, she hadn't control enough over
her weak extremities to avoid the cliff that came rushing up so suddenly?
That she wouldn't just fall from the sky, she had to slide down the wall
of the cliff, feeling her skin tear on the sharp rocks, and her legs
shatter beneath her as she came crashing to a stop against the ground?
That it would take several hours to be rescued, leaving her in broken
agony for an eternity at the bottom of a canyon, wondering if anyone
would ever come, as she felt her blood drain from her body?

How she longed for a fairy godmother who would wave her wand and make her
wings functional, rather than mere inconveniences that pained her back
and shoulders almost every time she moved. It was bad enough to live with
constant pain, but to not even be able to reap the benefits... It just
wasn't fair.

Trying once again not to let her tears break the surface, she stood up,
giving the glittering lights of the city one last look, wishing she could
see them from the sky. She pulled, and her wings came rushing back into
her, the searing pain only momentary, as she turned and walked slowly
back to her car, fishing her keys from her pocket.

There were no fairy godmothers in her story. She had to make the best of
what she had herself, with no magic, and no help.

Oh for wings that work...

***

This is dedicated to my friends, who everyday make my wings work.

***

Blue (starfire@accessone.com
http://matrix.crosswinds.net/~gypsyblue

"What is more, you were born a woman, and women, though 
most helpless in doing good deeds, are of every evil the 
cleverest of contrivers."
				-Medea