He stretched, feeling the still-unfamiliar pull of new skin across his shoulders, the weight there that dragged him off-balance, no matter how many exercises they made him practice, no matter how long he'd been standing. The stupid things didn't even work, didn't do more than lie there against his back and molt. "Symbol," they'd told him solemnly, when he was first taken. "Hope for the people," they'd added, and "only the most beautiful," and "you should be proud." Nick didn't feel proud, he just felt awkward.

Awkward and painful, did he mention painful? Taken from his home, his family, his friends, and brought here. No one asked him what he wanted, because what he wanted didn't matter. It was either go with them like a loyal subject, or be killed as a traitor. And no matter what he thought of what they'd done to him, it was better than death. Some of the other people here, though -- and there were a few, but not many -- didn't share that opinion.

He could hear one now. The Shouter, as Nick had taken to thinking of him, to differentiate him from The Crier and The Singer and The Laugher. He wondered if there were more, in other courtyards, who were just entirely silent like him. His own walls were too high and sheer for him to even get a look over, and there were no windows in the small room where he slept and ate and was told to meditate. The Shouter was angry a lot. He would swear and yell, calling out strange names and stranger places, and then Nick would hear doors slam and voices and the Shouter would go abruptly silent. Whatever they did to make him be quiet, Nick was pretty sure he didn't want it to happen to him, so he stayed quiet.

Once upon a time, he hadn't been so quiet. He'd be the first one to laugh, the first one to sing, the first one to drink a little too much and make a spectacle of himself. But now, now he was quiet. Now he lived inside his head a lot and remembered the times when he'd been something other than what he was now. Less beautiful on the outside, more beautiful on the inside.

Night was coming and he started to see stars in the eastern sky, just a few of the best and the brightest. "What do you see when you look at the sky?" someone asked him, and Nick jumped, the movement making the muscles on his back ache. It was the first time someone other than their keepers had spoken to him in a long time.

He stared around wildly, trying to figure out where the voice had come from. Which direction, where he should be looking...it was so strange to hear just a voice.

"Um. Hello?" His voice was barely a whisper, and he shivered a little at his own daring. He'd never yet spoken in reaction to any of the sounds the others had made, not even when his back was raw agony and all he wanted to do was out scream even The Shouter. "There are stars," he added hurriedly, not wanting this other person to go away. "Well, not at the moment. But at night. Right now, it's just blue."

"My mom always told me that the twinkly lights in the sky were the souls of the people who died," the other man said, with an accent that Nick couldn't place. He still couldn't see where the voice was coming from, but it had to be close, maybe from behind one of the broad, nearby trees. "I didn't even get to say goodbye to her. I was walking home from my classes at the university, and ... " He didn't need to finish; Nick knew what happened next.

He moved carefully closer to the tree nearest where the voice was coming from. He'd never actually been *forbidden* to talk to the others, but he'd figured caution was best.

"I...my dad told me that stars were like night lanterns for the gods, when they'd gotten lost," he offered. "My little brother loved them. I...I was at home. When they came." He sighed, rolled his shoulders in unconscious protest at the weight and pain there. "Look, the big bright one is shining now. Where are you?" He thought maybe it was rude to ask, but it just felt strange, talking to someone he couldn't even locate. There had never been anyone in his courtyard before, and he wasn't even sure it wasn't just someone talking across the wall to him.

Suddenly someone stepped out into the open, someone he'd never seen before. He was ... beautiful, but then they all were. Then Nick saw that the wounds on his shoulders were fresh and raw, blood seeping over his shoulder. He was biting his lip and looked sad and afraid and as alone as Nick felt. "Please don't stare at me," he said, his voice shaky. "I don't know what they've done. Is it awful?"

"NO! No, it's not awful." Nick couldn't stop staring, though, wondering if he'd looked like that, when he was new. So lost and scared. Bleeding. They weren't allowed to have mirrors, here. "You're new, huh?" He flexed his shoulders, the brand new muscles there stretching and flexing to tension, and felt the breeze as his still-small wings snapped open behind him. "They gave you these, I think," he said gently, as the other man's mouth fell open in shock. "They'll be bigger soon."

Huge green eyes got even bigger, and the man's face drained bloodless behind his light golden tan. He stretched out a slim hand towards Nick, delicate long fingers reaching, before he slumped to his knees. Nick could see his wince of pain, but he still made an effort to reach back of his shoulder, to feel at the raw skin for the wings that Nick could see but that he couldn't quite reach himself. They were stained pink from the blood, but he could wash them in the stream like Nick had, at first, and when he got brave enough, Nick would show him his reflection.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered when he looked up again. "Are they real? Can you leave here with them?" As he asked it, though, he seemed to realize that it was obvious that Nick couldn't.

Nick shook his head anyway, just so he wouldn't be under any illusions whatsoever, and winced at the word "beautiful." It had come to mean a lot of unpleasant things to him, recently.

"No, no, they don't work. But they're real." He flexed and fluttered them, maybe showing off just a little. "Yours are too, and just as...beautiful. You're...they'll hurt for a while, but it gets better. Some." He couldn't stop staring at those apple-green eyes, the way they widened, then closed convulsively, then flashed open again to stare at him. He was briefly envious. He hadn't had anyone to talk to him when *he* was terrified and bleeding.

"But what did they *do*?" he asked, and flexed his shoulders like Nick had and suddenly he was crying out in pain, slumping over onto the grass. "Black magic," he murmured. They've tainted me ... " Nick wanted to reassure him, to tell him that wasn't it at all, but the truth was that had been one of his first thoughts, too, when he'd figured out what was going on.

For a moment Nick thought he was going to slink away again, back to where he'd come from, but instead he drew closer. As needy for contact as Nick was, it seemed.

"Not magic," he said, as comfortingly as he could, and dropped to a crouch at the boy's side, not touching, but close. "Medicine. I think. They've found a way to give people wings, and...and maybe other things? I'm not sure. But they do it with knives and needles, not spells. It's...they say it's for the good of the nation." He still hadn't figured that out.

Night was falling fast, and the boy's skin was almost luminous in the last of the night, what there was of it left unstreaked by blood. "I'm Nick," Nick added hesitantly, not knowing if that was something he should share. "I've been here a long time, I think."

"Lance," he said. "Me, I mean. They called me Lance, where I come from. I feel like I've been gone from my home forever. I've been here two nights now. I was ... hiding, and watching. I didn't want you to see me. I was afraid they'd done something awful to me. I don't remember, I just remember the pain, afterwards. It hurts so *much*."

And he fell to the ground again and Nick could see his whole back, see where they'd moved things and taken things away and added things so a pair of fledgling wings emerged from Lance's back. It didn't look so beautiful from this angle, it looked ugly and raw and wrong.

"Oh," he sighed in sympathy, brushing Lance's hand with two careful fingers, all the comfort he could offer. He didn't want to cause more pain, and Lance looked like his very skin hurt him to wear. "It gets better," he whispered, knowing from the searing in his own shoulders that it was almost a lie. "It does, you'll get used to it. Lance." He rolled the name over his tongue, committing it to memory. "You were watching me? I didn't...I didn't even see you at all." That troubled him for some reason. He should have known there was someone else there.

He hadn't been able to see his own back, just the wavering reflection of his pale gold wings in the water of the stream. Lance's fascinated him; the strange bulge of muscle where there should have been flat bone, the raw shaft, the small new feathers, cream colored under the pink. He reached out again, and only just managed to catch his hand back before he could touch.

"Why me?" asked Lance, and though his face was hidden, Nick thought that maybe he was weeping. "We ... my parents brought me and my sister here after the war. They said we would be safe here, that no one would hurt us. But they were wrong! What have they made me, Nick? What have they made *us*?"

Nick didn't know how to answer that. He didn't even know. He could only hope that when all was said and done, he would be the same person on the inside as he always had been, if a little harder. A little sharper. A lot less trusting.

"It's because you're beautiful," he said, the irony making his words edged. But he was sharing everything he knew. "They told me it was an honor, because only the most beautiful were chosen. But I don't know. You are, though." He'd had a lot of time to think about this, quiet in his head, listening to the others over the wall. "They...they gave us...we're still us." He *had* to believe that. "We're still who we were, Lance. They can't take that away, they just...they just changed our bodies, a little. They told me I was an angel now, but I'm still me, on the inside. Just Nick, not an angel at all." He didn't feel very angelic. But he wanted Lance to stop weeping.

"You are, though," said Lance, and when he lifted his head, his eyes were dry after all. "An angel. You don't have to look like one to be one, my mother taught me that. Them doing this, it's ... desecration. Of a body that was whole and holy the way it was." He closed his eyes for a moment, but already he was looking stronger. "Do you know if blackenroot grows here? It dulls pain. Since they've given us nothing else that will do the job."

Nick snorted mildly. "That's blasphemy," he said, not wanting to contradict Lance's mother, but remembering his own lessons. "Angels are supreme beings, not earthwalkers like us. Our bodies are pale imitations of them, not holy." He wondered where Lance had come from, to get these strange ideas. Stars as souls, indeed.

Distracted, he glanced around, and shrugged, the tiny gesture he'd learned in his first few days here. "I don't know what blackenroot is. But this is a garden, so I suppose all sorts of things might grow here. Does this root really dull pain?"

"My mother always used it back home," said Lance. "She made medicines for our town, before they threatened her with torture if she continued." He didn't say anything else about Nick being an angel, but he didn't recant either. "It grows with pale yellow flowers. Along riverbanks, but sometimes in meadows, too. Have you seen it?"

"There are yellow flowers over there." Nick waved a vague hand towards the river. "She was making medicines without a license? That's dangerous, you know. Well, you know now, clearly." He sighed, and stood carefully, unwilling to make any sudden movements. He remembered the pain that Lance must be feeling, a blurry memory of agony, and thought that if he'd known a way to ease it, he'd have taken it too. "If you tell me what to look for, I'll go see. You should sit still, or bathe in the river, if you can. The cool water helps."

"She made medicines that *worked*," snapped Lance. "Not like the things they make people use now. My family's been doing it for generations; she's teaching my sister now." He struggled to get to his feet and made it through sheer will. "Show me where these flowers are? If you're willing to take the risk of 'unlicensed medicine', I'll make some for both of us. If I can." He didn't look like he could do much of anything right then, not before he started to heal, but if he could get things done just on determination, Nick was sure he would.

He looked at Lance, standing and swaying like a stiff breeze would topple him over onto the grass, and shook his head. "It's this way." Lance's body was bare, of course; nothing fit over the wings, and Nick had almost forgotten what shirts felt like on his skin. His pants were soft and loose, hanging off his hips, and stained green at the knees from his first collapse. Nick couldn't stop looking at him. Another person, here with him, it was almost too much to handle. "I don't mind so much about the license," he explained softly, holding out his arm in a silent offer of support. "I just...I hope it works, is all. I remember the first days too."

"How did you survive?" asked Lance, and it took Nick a moment to realize he wasn't being rhetorical. "I'm ... this is a nightmare. What am I going to do? I just don't know. I just ... I have to keep going. I have to keep going." He was putting one foot in front of the other and he was moving, slowly and carefully, heading for the stream. It was a few steps before he took Nick's offered arm. "Keep going, keep going." Nick wasn't even sure Lance was talking to him anymore, until he asked again. "How did you do it?"

"I don't really remember," Nick confessed, a laugh that was nothing humorous startled out of him by the realization that he was telling the truth. "I just endured, I think, until finally it got a little better, one day. And then a little better. I spent a whole day in the water, I fell in and couldn't get out, and it helped a lot. After that day, I remember better. Just...move really slowly, and don't lift anything heavy." Lance's hand was smooth and soft on his arm, hot as if he was fevered, and it clutched and relaxed with every step. "I'll help you if I can."

"Do they ever come to see how you're doing?" he asked as they slowly made their way. It wasn't far, but far enough. "Do they ever come and look at what they've done? Or are they too afraid that the gods will strike them down if they do?" He was interrupted by a sound, a wail from over the wall. "Who is that?" he asked. "Who are the others?"

"That's The Crier," Nick sighed, saddened always by the sound. "He's...there are others here. They're away, over the walls, I've never seen them. But I can hear them. I think maybe they're a little crazy, though; one laughs all the time but it's not happy, one sings children's' songs, one shouts until he's quieted. They don't talk to me. I haven't talked to anyone since I got here." He helped Lance over a small rise by the stream bank. "They come. They poke and frown, and tell me things, and bring food every day. I don't think they're worrying about the gods very much. They tell me that this is holy, that they're making us like angels, perfect beings. For people to see so that they'll have hope. I think they expect me to be *grateful*." He couldn't keep the bafflement out of his voice at that last.

"Don't let them make you grateful," said Lance with such for that there had to be something behind it, something besides what was going on right then, with them. "The others, do you know their names?" Instead of heading for the stream, he started toward the sound of The Crier, and Nick saw the look of determination on his face again. He was clearly in pain every time he moved his upper body, but he kept going. "How many are there?"

"I--I don't know. I don't know their names or anything about them." Nick, startled, had to jog a step to catch up with Lance, and reached for his arm. "Lance...they don't...I don't think we're supposed to talk to each other." He was long inches taller than Lance, and broader all over, but he tagged along in Lance's wake, intimidated by the resolve so clear on his face. "Don't you want to get some of that root stuff? And the water, the cool water. It'll feel good. Lance?"

"This is more important," said Lance, but it clearly hurt so much his eyes were involuntarily tearing up. "I don't care if we're supposed to talk to them or not. He's crying, Nick, you can hear him. He needs somebody." He tripped over an exposed root and tried to catch himself, but the swift motion was too much for his healing flesh and he cried out and a fresh trickle of blood started down his bad. "I'll be okay," he gasped out. "I just need a minute." But he was looking lonely and scared again and Nick remembered this look from when Lance had first appeared.

"Shhh," he crooned instinctively, just as he had when Aaron had fallen out of a tree and scraped all the skin off his arm. "Rest a moment, it'll pass." He stepped closer, lending his support and taking much of Lance's weight onto himself when Lance swayed. "Come on, back to the stream. You can't help him if you're falling over from pain." He caught Lance's gorgeous eyes and smiled sadly. "Believe me, he'll still be there when you're feeling better. He's been there all along."

"How long is all along?" asked Lance, letting Nick lead him toward the stream this time. "Will I be here forever? As soon as I mix some blackenroot, then we'll go talk to him. He may know things we don't, Nick. He may need us, too. He may be ... be afraid, like me. But you ... you're not afraid. You're brave." Brave was the last thing Nick thought he was.

"No, I'm just tired," Nick confessed frankly, and it was true. Being scared all the time was exhausting, and he'd eventually gone numb. "I've been here...I don't know how long, exactly. Probably a month? And...they told me I'd be let go, when I was perfect and ready to be seen. I don't know what that means, but they won't tell me. I guess they'll probably do the same thing with you, too." He eased Lance down to a seat on the grass, close enough to touch the water if he wanted. "I don't know if he talks, you know. All he's ever done is cry."

"He probably doesn't know if you talk, either, if you've never talked to him," said Lance, too reasonably. "Maybe he doesn't even know you exist, if you don't cry like him. I've heard the others, too, but it's ... it's all jumbled up in my head. Yesterday is all jumbled up in my head, i don't remember most of it, Just pain, and heat, and weight on my back, and following you." He reached out for the water and dragged his fingers through it, and winced. "Can you ... water? On my back? I feel ... unclean."

Nick cupped a handful of cool water and lifted it to Lance's shoulder, letting it trickle down his back. "You're not unclean," he said fiercely. "You're not. You're just...you're bleeding, is all, you're just hurt. There's nothing wrong with you." He concentrated hard on the water, lifting and pouring, to distract him from the prickle behind his eyes. He hadn't cried in front of *them*, he'd never made a sound, and he wasn't going to start now. "They must know we're here now," he mused. "I bet they can hear us talking, now. Some of them, anyway, if they're close. I think the Laugher is a little farther away, but the Crier is close."

"He's still crying," said Lance, and he was, just as loud as ever. "He probably can't hear us over his cries. We're quiet and our space is large." If anything, Lance was being the brave one here, despite the fact that he was so obviously hurting outside and in. "They've changed me, Nick. Us. I don't know how to live with that, yet. I understand why The Crier cries. It's all too much. It's like ... they've taken away a bit of what makes me me. And they had no right ... no right. My parents thought we would be safe here ... "

"You're not safe anywhere," Nick said, maybe too brutally, but any illusions he'd had had been burned out of him by long painful hours spent utterly alone. "And the crying isn't doing him any good that I can see. He cries for hours, until it slowly gets quieter and quieter, and I suppose he falls asleep. The Shouter draws unpleasant attention to himself. It's better to be quiet and not create trouble, I think." He poured more water, watching the blood wash away, leaving Lance's skin clean in the starlight. "They've only taken away as much as you let them take."

Lance's expression tightened and he nodded, as though Nick was reminding him of something he already knew. "Those flowers, there?" he said, and pointed carefully. "Those are them. Pick them and you'll see that they have thick roots. I should make them into a tea, but i can't, so we just have to eat them. They won't be bad, if we wash them off in the stream." Then he winced and hunched over and let Nick stream more water of his back. It seemed to be helping.

Nick let the last handful of water trickle between his fingers, then got carefully to his feet, leaving Lance crouched on the ground like an old man in pain. "If you're sure," he said dubiously, pulling some of the flowers up entirely. The roots were thick and black, and caked with earth, and Nick wrinkled his nose as he dipped them in the stream, washing them clean.

"Here you go." He was still less than enthusiastic, as he offered the roots to Lance, but Lance reached for them with hands trembling with eagerness. "If you die from poison, I'll be very upset," he warned as an afterthought, letting Lance have the entire handful.

"If I die, it won't be from these," said Lance, and took a bite, and the snap and crunch the root made in his mouth made Nick cringe. Lance, too, was making a face as he slowly chewed it. "It's better in tea," he mumbled out after he swallowed, which certainly didn't encourage Nick to give them a try. "They're bitter, but they work." And already -- though Nick was sure it was too soon for them to be working -- Lance was sitting up a little straighter.

"That looks disgusting." Lance grimaced in response, but kept chewing doggedly. "I sure hope it's worth it. Though, anything that made that pain stop...I guess it would be." He rolled his shoulders, testing his own pain, and winced. It got better every day, but never really faded entirely. Nick was beginning to wonder if it ever would. "Lance...where have you been sleeping?" It was still troubling him that Lance had managed to escape his notice for two whole days.

Lance swallowed again before answering, and it looked like that was all he could take for the moment; he stashed the rest of the roots by the stream, just far enough above the waterline that they wouldn't wash away, even though there was plenty more. "Over there," he said, pointing towards a thick bush that looked thorny. "Behind it, there's some soft grasses. It was fine." Nick never went near the thorny bushes if he could help it, which might explain at least partly why he hadn't noticed. But Lance had to have been moving around.

"Didn't your wings catch in the thorns?" That was why *he* stayed away from the bushes, anyway. It was too hard to remember how much extra space he needed now, and he was always bumping them painfully against things. "I hope you slept on your stomach," he added helpfully. That had been an important lesson for him to learn, at least.

He picked up one of the roots and stared at it in distaste. But his shoulders ached and burned, his back strained all the way down to his hips. "Is it working?"

Lance nodded, and when he flexed his shoulders and only winced, didn't collapse in pain, Nick *knew* it had to be working. "It makes the pain feel far away," he murmured, and relaxed his muscles again. There was a little trickle of blood from the base of one of his wings, but nothing bad. "I couldn't bear to sleep on my back. I didn't know ... about the wings, before. I didn't know what they'd done to me, and I only caught glimpses of you. It's ... there's a big space, behind the bush. It was comfortable, but it gets colder at night."

"You were back there the whole time? You should have called to me, I'd have helped you into the sleeping room, at least at night." Nick looked at him incredulously. Granted, he hadn't moved around much, as far as he could remember, in his first days, but he hadn't been able to sit still through the pain, either. He touched Lance's shoulder gently, turning him so he could get a better look at the scars. "And you didn't see my wings and guess? They're pretty big, now, I can't believe you could have missed them." He spread them again involuntarily as he bent down to get more water, and before he could think better of it, popped one of the roots in his mouth. Bitter, earthy, barky taste with a sharp sour aftertaste. No wonder Lance hadn't finished them.

"I couldn't see what they were," said Lance. "I just knew they'd done something to you, too. But ... but it didn't look awful. I didn't want you to see me, how they disfigured me. I didn't want anyone to see me." Another wail from the Crier interrupted him and he looked toward the wall; he could even turn his torso now, which he hadn't been able to before without moving his entire body. "Do you think they've done the same to him?"

"I don't know. This, or something similar, I guess. Who knows, though? Maybe they gave him a dog's head, and that's why he makes such a noise all the time." Nick sighed at himself as soon as he'd said it, knowing it was petty and mean. "No, I don't know. You're not disfigured, Lance. Your wings...they're little now, and you're in pain, I know. But you're beautiful. Like an angel." He took another small bite of the root, wondering if it was just his imagination or if the pain really was easing. "If you're feeling better, you should bathe in the stream. It will quiet the burn."

"Wings don't make an angel," muttered Lance, but for the first time he managed to stretch out his fledgling wings to their full length, little as it was. Nick hated to admit it, but they *would* be beautiful when they were grown. Just like his. "I can bathe in the stream later; we need to go talk to him now. He sounds so afraid. Had he been here a long time? As long as you have?"

Nick glanced around nervously. Talking to Lance was one thing; Lance had been put in with him, surely their keepers had to expect that they'd talk. But communicating with one of the others?

"He's...not quite as long as I have, I don't think. It's hard to remember, but I think I heard him the first time about a week after I arrived. The shouter, though...he was here before me. That was one of the first things I heard when I woke up here. It was terrifying." He stretched, and yes, the pain was definitely less. "I know he's afraid, but Lance...are you sure we should talk to him? He might, I don't, what if he's dangerous?"

"If he's dangerous, it doesn't matter," said Lance, stretching as much as he could when he stood up. "There's a wall between us, and we'll only be talking. But do you think he's dangerous? I think he's just like me ... like us. Alone and scared and no one to talk to. It took me two days to talk to you; I won't let it take that long this time." He glanced at the wall again, and was obviously waiting for Nick to join him. To help him. "We must be brave."

"I don't see why," Nick grumbled quietly, slowly walking to Lance's side. "Being brave or not-brave doesn't seem to make any difference. We're still prisoners, we've still been changed." He sighed, though, and touched the wall. He thought he could probably almost reach the top if he jumped, and if he had full use of his arms again, but now it was as out of reach as the moon.

"Hello," he said, more loudly than he'd spoken yet, before Lance could respond to his grumping. "Hello? Person who's crying? Over here."

"Nick!" said Lance sharply, but he looked more surprised than mad. Nick didn't know why; wasn't that what they were there to do? Talk to him? "Hello?" Lance echoed him, pressing one hand against the wall. "Hello, are you okay over there?"

The cries suddenly stopped, and they could hear loud sniffling from over the wall. He had to be very close, for them to be able to hear that. "People?" they heard finally, a soft, shaky voice. "There are people there?"

Nick rolled his eyes at Lance. "Maybe they took his ears off," he whispered. "If he hasn't heard the Shouter, he's got to be deaf." He raised his voice again, though, so the person could hear him, and didn't share his thoughts on deafness.

"Hi, yes. There are two of us, we're Lance and Nick." He was just grateful that that awful sobbing had stopped. "Are you okay? Are you alone? Are you hurt?" Not that there was anything Nick could do about it if he WAS.

"Y-yes," he said, but Nick couldn't tell *which* question that was supposed to answer. "You're people? I thought there was no one over there. There was noise at first, and then I thought you died." Died? That hadn't occurred to Nick. The first few days he was there were a blur; he wondered if he'd been loud, too.

"Hi," said Lance. "Hi, I'm Lance. No one's dead here, I promise. Nick is quiet." He glanced at Nick. "Um, normally. What's your name? Did they hurt you too?"

There was another sniffle, a little quieter this time. "J-JC," he said softly. "I'm...they did something to me. I...can't tell what it is, though. Just...hot..." His voice trailed off into silence.

"Hot on your back?" Nick wanted to know. "If you reach back, can you feel feathers? Maybe you've got wings, like us." He caught Lance's surprised look, and shrugged. They'd never know if they didn't ask. And he was feeling a little bad for making this JC person think he was dead.

"You have wings?" said the Crier, JC, and he sounded awed. "I don't have wings, it's not my back. I'd rather have wings than this. I wish I could see them." Nick really doubted that, if he could see the reality of Lance's back, which was still oozing blood.

"They hurt," said Lance, and Nick wasn't sure it was loud enough to be heard over the wall. "They hurt more than you think. But it'll be okay, JC, we'll all be okay. We're still alive." How the hell were they going to be okay, Nick wanted to know.

Some of his disbelief must have shown on his face, because Lance gave him a firm nod. Well, Lance could nod all he wanted, Nick had been here a lot longer and he knew that there was no way out.

"They hurt?" JC sounded confused. "Oh, but they must be so beautiful. Wings." He sighed wistfully. Nick started to be very curious about what this person must look like. "I have...I don't know. It's my head, it's hot. I'm sure it's hideous, not like pretty wings at all, and it *hurts*. It hurts my head."

"Is that why you cry all the time?" Nick poked a finger at the wall, wishing he could make it disappear.

"Nick!" said Lance again, but Nick ignored him. Lance didn't know anything yet. Well, except how to hide from him and how to make the pain go away and how to make the Crier stop crying. "JC, I'm sure it won't be hideous," he said. "Are you alone in there?"

"Alone," said JC, and sniffled again. "Alone and it hurts and I just want to go home. I don't understand any of this." Well, that was nothing new. None of them did, not really. Nick only knew what they had told him.

"We all want to go home," he sighed. "Lance, do you think the roots would help him? We could throw him some." He spread his wings experimentally, and was shocked when there was only a dull aching pull, no real pain. He stretched them wide, still uncomfortable with the way the new muscles moved, and then swept them down hard, an actual wingbeat that created a breeze strong enough to blow Lance's hair back a little, and his green eyes widened in astonishment. It felt...good. "JC. JC? We have something that can help the hurting. If you want."

"What?" JC suddenly sounded suspicious. "What helps? Nothing helps. Even when I'm sleeping, it hurts in my dreams. Who *are* you? How do I know I can trust you?"

"We're people they took, too," said Lance, finally recovering himself enough to nod at Nick. "They hurt us, too, JC, they changed us. My mother ... she makes medicines, so I know what some of the plants do. There's a flower that grows here, the roots will make the pain go away if you eat them. They taste awful, but they work. We'll throw you some, over the wall, look out for them."

"How do I know you're not trying to poison me? You've never talked to me before."

He was right, he had no way of knowing. "Would poison be worse than what you're feeling already?" said Lance, and Nick winced.

"It's a terrible sin to take poison," JC answered instantly, his voice low and shocked. "I'll never meet the angels if I do that. That would be worse than this, definitely. At least now I'm still alive."

Nick sighed, frustrated. "It would help if we could just see you," he mused. "Then you could see that we're just like you. We wouldn't give you poison, JC, never. And...you said I was loud when I was first here?" He was very glad that was all a blur to him now. "Lance just got here, he'd be as loud as I was, only he ate some of the root, and he's walking around as easy as can be." He nodded an apology for the exaggeration to Lance, who was clearly still hurting, if not as much. "If my wings worked, I could show you. But you'll have to trust us. Or build a ladder."

"We'd have to cut down trees to build a ladder," said JC, "and we have nothing sharp. Or I don't. Do ... are you sure it's not poison?"

"It's not poison," said Lance gently. "It's medicine. It'll make the hurt less, I promise. Once you see what it looks like, you might find you have some growing where you are, too. Do you have a garden where you are, too? With a stream and trees and flowers and bushes and grass?"

Nick was already tuning them out and thinking about the whole ladder thing. He couldn't build one, no, but there was enough debris around their courtyard that if he piled it up by the wall, he could prop himself higher. And when Lance was stronger ... when he was able, one of them could hoist the other over, too. It was starting to seem possible. Only he didn't know how closely they were being watched, or what they were allowed to do, and the thing that silenced the Shouter still scared him.

"Nick?" said Lance, interrupting his thoughts. "Nick, throw them over to him."

"Huh?" Nick snapped back to attention. "Oh, okay." He trotted back to the stream and scooped up the remaining roots, saving one for himself, and in an easy heave, tossed the rest over the wall. There was a scrambling sound from the other side, and Nick wondered if he'd hit JC.

"So far so good," he muttered nervously to Lance, glancing around him warily. "They haven't stopped us, I mean. Maybe they don't care, after all." They were still being quiet, anyway, not disruptive like the Shouter always was. "Maybe we can-" his thoughts on getting over the wall were interrupted by JC's voice, suddenly stronger.

"That tastes *awful*." He sounded completely appalled. "Ack!" Little spitting sounds followed.

"I know it's awful, but swallow it anyway," said Lance encouragingly. "I'd make it into tea, but I can't boil water and tea is harder to throw anyway. Just eat a little bit more, JC, you need to trust me." Nick didn't know why JC should trust them, but he hoped he did. He trusted them enough to take the first bite, at least.

"It's poison," insisted JC.

"It's not," said Lance urgently. "I ate it myself. How else would I know how it tastes? And it helps." Watching how carefully Lance moved, though, Nick wished it helped a little more.

Thoughtful silence from the other side of the wall was followed by a resigned sigh. "If it's poison, you're sinning too," he reminded them, and then was silent again, apart from small disgusted noises as Nick assumed he chewed the rest of the root. In silent solidarity, Nick popped his in his mouth too, screwing up his face against the taste.

"I'm eating one too, just so you know," he called. "It tastes like dirt, foul dirt that pigs have been living in. But it really does help." He turned to Lance, then, worried at the strained look around his eyes, at the way blood was starting to trickle down his back again. "There," he said quietly. "We've helped. Now you need to go bathe your back, and eat more of this disgusting stuff, before you fall down. I can't carry you, not right now."

"We can't leave him now," whispered Lance, but he looked like he knew Nick was right. He was starting to feel it again. "Okay, JC?" he said, taking a step away from the wall. Nick hadn't really realized he'd been using it to hold himself upright. "JC, I need to go for a little bit. I'm bleeding, I need to let Nick help me take care of it."

"No!" said JC. "You can't leave me now you can't leave me alone no please don't ..."

"JC," said Lance. "JC, we'll come back. We'll come back as soon as we can. Or ... or Nick can just talk loud, so you can hear."

"Believe me," Nick added dryly, moving to take Lance's arm. "We wouldn't be going anywhere even if we wanted to. We've got walls just like you do, we're going to be right here. We're not leaving you alone." He leaned over and whispered in Lance's ear. "I can't talk loud! That'll just bring attention. He'll be okay."

"Come back," JC pleaded, his voice hoarse and low, and Nick could hear the beginning of tears there again.

"Don't cry," Nick pleaded, sure his nerves would snap if JC started making those terrible sounds again. "Don't, we'll come back, or I will, just as soon as Lance is resting. Okay? Just...meditate, or something. Let the medicine help you. It's helping, right?"

"It's ... maybe a little," JC admitted, and he sounded surprised. "Yes. It helps. Thank you. I'm glad you weren't dead after all." His voice still had a hysterical edge to it, though, and Nick wasn't convinced he wasn't about to start up again.

Lance was lowering himself right into the cool stream, and he didn't look like he needed any help, so Nick let his thoughts drift back to the wall again. It wasn't so high that he couldn't find a way over; just high enough that he couldn't pull himself over it, and flat enough that he couldn't climb it. But there would be a way, and for the first time he'd come here, he had a goal other than just to survive.

He kept half an eye on Lance to be sure his head was still above water, and started poking around, looking for branches and rocks that he could pile at the foot of the wall. He found a nice big branch just as the sound of tears drifted over the wall, and he hurried back, bringing his find with him.

"JC!" The sobs softened, but didn't stop. "JC, are there branches and things over there? Rocks on the ground? I'm trying..." he didn't say it out loud, afraid that somehow *they* would hear him, but he needed to know that he wouldn't be stuck on the other side if he DID make it over. "JC, look around and tell me what you see. Come on, stop crying."

JC's sobs became sniffles again. "I don't know," he said, and Nick actually heard him moving around. "I don't have big trees here, just bushes. But there are a lot of rocks, everywhere, big and small. Lots of them. I sit on one of them a lot, by the stream. I sit and look." That was more than Nick needed to know, but he was relieved to hear about the rocks, even if it left him wondering what JC's courtyard looked like, compared to his own.

"Rocks? Okay, that's really good. Just...stay there, okay? For a minute? I need to check on Lance. And then we'll see about something. Can you move any of the big rocks?" He figured if JC was occupied trying to lift rocks, he wouldn't be crying. Without any further warning, he slipped back to Lance's side.

"I can try," JC's voice came faintly over the wall, as Nick crouched by Lance's side. His eyes were closed, his whole body floating in the deepest part of the stream. His wings, barely two feet long, were pure cream now, washed clean of blood, and his back was finally clean. Nick touched the cool wet skin of his shoulder carefully.

"Are you okay?"

Lance's eyes flew open, startled, and he almost started to sink for a moment before regaining his balance. "I'm better," he said, taking deep, calming breaths. "The water is wonderful. I ... I didn't look, though. At myself. I couldn't. Turn around?" Nick didn't know what he meant for a moment, then turned around slowly so Lance could see him.

"I can roll the rocks," came JC's voice over the wall, and there was no shake in his voice this time.

"It's not so bad," murmured Lance. "You look beautiful. But even if you didn't, I'd still think you were, Nick. Are you going over?"

"I don't know." Nick turned back around slowly, reaching behind him to scratch at itchy healing skin. "Maybe. Not unless you think it's a good idea, though, and not till you're feeling better. It's just an idea, anyway. Maybe we should get JC to come over *here*, he doesn't sound too hurt, except his headache." He crouched down again, touching Lance's hand where he was propped against the bank. "You should look at yourself, you know. You're very beautiful too. Your wings are cream-colored, now that they're clean. They're very small still, but so pretty, even though your back looks like hell. Does it still hurt a lot?"

"Not so much," said Lance, but it obviously did. "I'll eat some more blackenroot soon; it's not good to have too much at once, it can upset your stomach." As far as Nick was concerned, even just a little bit upset your stomach, but he didn't say so. "If you go, just make sure you come back," Lance added softly.

Nick was sure, though, that having JC come over to their side was the best idea, even though he was itching to see something other than his own enclosure. If he could convince JC to do it.

"It'll be easier if he comes here," he insisted stubbornly. "For one thing, he'll get to meet you, too. For another thing, it'll be easier to get him back to his own side, with two of us helping. I'm gonna...I'm gonna go try to talk him into it. Don't worry. I won't leave you here by yourself." He stroked Lance's skin once, unable to help himself, and then stood quickly and went back to the wall. He didn't know much about JC yet, but he figured asking him straight out would probably just make him freak.

"JC, good, you're rolling the rocks," he said encouragingly. "Can you make a big pile by the wall? Big enough for you to stand on and see over the wall?"

"Way ahead of you," said JC, and Nick heard him grunt and the sound of rocks falling against one another. "I figured you out. Watch for me, Nick." Even with everything else that had happened that day, this might have been the most startling thing. That once he managed to get JC to stop crying, he would be so effective. He wished he'd tried it a long time ago, but then realized that it might not have worked a long time ago. That now was the time they were all ready for it. "It's almost high enough now, I just need a couple more minutes, I think."

"Okay," Nick called back softly. "Let me know when you're ready, I'll wait for you." He scrambled back to Lance's side, vibrating with excitement.

"Lance, Lance! He's coming over, he's piling rocks right now, he's almost done. Do you want to come see or should we come here to you when he's over? Lance." His voice dropped apprehensively. "What if he IS hideous?" After an entire month alone, he was suddenly on overload, interacting with not one but two people. Intense nervousness was making his wingfeathers shiver. "What if he thinks *I* am?"

"It doesn't matter," said Lance, and reached out his arm for Nick to help him up. "And he won't. I didn't." But Lance had had the same thing done to him; it was different. "I want to eat some more blackenroot, can you pull me some more? Please?"

Nick could hear the comforting yet terrifying sound of JC piling rocks on the other side of the wall as he searched for more of the little flowers. Then suddenly there was a gasp.

"Oh, oh, it's beautiful here, everything's so alive." Slowly, Nick turned his head to look back at the wall.

At first, blinking, he thought JC had managed to make a torch to light his way in the increasing darkness of the light. At least, that was all his dark-adjusted eyes could see, a flare of dancing flame that cast only a pale light over the stones of the wall. Then his eyes slowly came into focus again, and he forgot to breathe.

"JC," he whispered, his heart breaking from the sadness and the beauty. He dropped the roots he'd found by Lance's side, and walked slowly towards the wall. JC's hair, live flames that licked around his head and curled down his neck, sparking and flaring when he moved, was enough of a guide. He was so tense that his wings snapped open, pulled tight by muscles he couldn't entirely control, and he reached up a hand, offering to help JC come down the other side.

As much as he was mesmerized by the silent flames framing JC's face, JC was still staring in awe at him. "Oh," he said softly. "Oh, you're so beautiful." It took him a long moment before he climbed atop the wall and took Nick's hand to help him down again. He winced when he caught sight of Nick's face. "Is it so terrible, what they've done to me? I can feel it but I've never been able to see."

"No," Nick whispered, unable to look away, but wincing a little as JC got closer and Nick began to feel the heat of the flames. "No, JC, you're incredibly beautiful." He stepped quickly out of the way as JC dropped to the grass, giving him room to adjust, to look around. The flames swayed with him as he moved, lighting the sharp blades of his cheekbones, his full soft mouth and straight nose, long-lashed eyes. He was the most beautiful man Nick had ever seen, and would have been so without the fiery hair. Nick felt the anger in his gut grow.

"Your hair," he explained, when JC remained silent, staring around him in wonder. "It's fire. Flames. They're beautiful, but very hot. Come, we have to show Lance."

JC reached out to touch his hair and Nick tried to stop him but he didn't need to; if JC was going to burn himself on his hair, he would've done it a long time ago. "I knew it was something like that," he said, and sighed. "I knew my hair looked strange in my reflection, but I couldn't tell. It must be terrible, not beautiful." It was both.

"JC," said Lance, and carefully walked toward them. "Oh, JC." His wings were extended, which Nick knew must have been painful for him, but not as painful as looking at JC, from the look on his face.

"Don't touch," Nick murmured in warning, but Lance wasn't paying attention, and didn't look like he'd try to touch anyway. He stepped close to JC, looking at him carefully, his face wondering and sad.

"It's awful, isn't it," JC whispered brokenly, and tears started to spill from his eyes, shining red and gold on his cheeks in the light from his hair. "They've made me a monster, I knew it."

"No!" Nick almost stamped his foot, startling all three of them with the force of his voice. "No, you're not a monster! No more than me or Lance. You're just different, is all..." he trailed off, unable to articulate everything he was feeling.

"No," said Lance, his deep voice softer than Nick's, as always. "You're not a monster, you're beautiful. I'm just sorry. Sorry you had to go through this too." He reached for JC's hair, but only got as close as he could bear, which wasn't close enough to touch JC's face. And then instead, he took JC's hand. "It'll be okay."

"How?" asked JC, though his tears, and Lance apparently didn't have an answer for that.

"We'll make it okay," Nick said, unexpectedly determined that it would be so. "We have each other now, and we know there are others. Though they might be crazy, I don't know." He looked at Lance and his wings, holding the hand of JC, whose hair was almost too bright to stare at directly, and flexed his *own* wings. "We can't change these things, and we weren't asked, but we're still...we're still us. I'm still Nick who likes to go fishing and play with my little sisters and brother. And we're stuck here, they've got us trapped. But at least we're still us."

"There are no fish in the stream," said JC, which made almost no sense. And he seemed to realize that too, because a moment later he was actually smiling. "I'm still me," he murmured, and he didn't sound convinced, but it was a start.

"You can see the stars now," said Lance, looking up at the sky, the flames from JC's hair making his wings glow a beautiful reddish-orange. "When I was little, I used to say that one there?" He pointed at the sky. "That it was my grandfather. He died in the war." He dropped JC's hand suddenly, like even his skin burned hot enough to be uncomfortable over time.

Nick snorted again at Lance's strange notions about stars, but kept it quiet enough that Lance couldn't hear. If Lance wanted to believe that star was his grandfather, it couldn't do any harm that Nick could see. JC was looking at Lance strangely, though.

"But what's he doing up there?" JC was clearly confused. "Did he do something terrible, to be kept away from the Hall of Angels? Oh, I'm sorry, Lance. That must have been so awful for your family."

"What's the Hall of Angels?" asked Lance, not looking disturbed at all, then looked at the sky again. "Up there, it's where all souls go when people die. They watch over us and try to keep us safe." His voice sounded so calm as he said that, as if he was reminded that everything would be okay if his grandfather was watching. "He never did anything terrible, he was a wonderful man, until they killed him."

"Lance isn't from around here," Nick explained to JC, who was staring at Lance like he'd grown another head, instead of a pair of wings. "He's got different customs than we do, he doesn't...his ancestors are stars, not at rest with the angels."

"Oh." JC seemed to turn this new information over in his mind, then shrugged, seemingly willing to accept this in light of all the other strangeness in his life. "Well, then, Lance, you should ask your grandfather to get us out of here. I want to go home."

Lance smiled a little bit and looked back at them again. "Everything in its time," he said calmly. "Look how far we've gotten already today. Maybe he *is* busy at work helping us out."

There was still so far to go, though. Nick could hear the voices of the others around him, the Shouter, especially, who had started up again. He hadn't heard the Singer in a couple days now, though; he hoped he was okay. He hoped they were all okay.

"Maybe," he sighed. He was willing to give credit wherever it was due; mere hours ago, he'd been trapped in isolated silence, and now he had Lance and JC. He looked around nervously, though. The Shouter always made him nervous, because Nick was always waiting for something to come and make him quiet, always tense until it happened and the noise went still. Now that he had something to lose, it was almost unbearable. He bounced on the balls of his feet, tense.

"I wish he'd be quiet," he grumbled, looking in that direction. "He's going to bring attention, and then they'll realize JC is gone, and we'll ALL get in trouble. Do you think if we..." Finally unable to tolerate it, he walked to the wall and slapped it with his hand. "SHUT UP!" he shouted. "JUST BE QUIET! YOU'RE NOT HELPING!"

JC looked at Lance. "I thought you said he was quiet."

"He was," said Lance, but it was JC who got close to him, put a hand on Nick's arm. Nick could feel the heat of him as he approached.

"Nick," said Lance urgently, as JC squeezed his arm, "Nick, shhh, or they'll come and look in on us." JC's touch, merely very warm at first, quickly became uncomfortably hot, and Nick drew away, smiling so JC would know it wasn't meant cruelly.

It worked, though; the Shouter stopped and suddenly everything felt entirely quiet. No sound at all came from any of them, anywhere. Nick almost preferred the shouting to the silence; he now knew why JC might have thought him dead, with a silence so profound.

"Who said that?" they heard suddenly. "Who is that? WHO ARE YOU?"

"Shh," JC called, in what Nick could only label a whisper-shout. "Quiet, quiet, or you'll get us all in trouble. Just shh, it'll be okay. I'm JC."

"Sorry," Nick muttered to Lance, shaking his head at himself. "I'm sorry, I just...I've been listening to him for a really long time, and I guess I finally just woke up or something." That's what it felt like; Nick had woken up from the silent trance he'd been existing in for so long. He wondered how many others there were, close to them, listening to all this happen, maybe waking up themselves. He hoped they would, anyway.

"Who are you, JC?" he asked, and it wasn't quiet but it was only a slightly-raised speaking voice, which was a step in the right direction. "Who are you? What are you doing here? What am *I* doing here"

"It's okay," Lance whispered to him, grasping Nick's arm where JC had let go and holding it gently. "I understand. I feel like ... I'm too busy to be scared now. And that's good. Except ... oh Nick ... it hurts so much. When does it stop hurting?"

"Lance," Nick turned to him instantly, letting JC handle the Shouter, who wasn't shouting any more anyway. He clouldn't believe he'd forgotten Lance's pain, and bit his lip as he reached for him, touching his waist and shoulder gently, offering support. "You should be resting, you shouldn't be standing up right now. I am so sorry I forgot. It...it should stop hurting so much soon." He eased Lance down to a seat on the grass, ignoring his protests.

"Chris," JC was saying, smiling a little. "Hello. We're JC and Lance and Nick, over here, and I was alone, only they talked to me and I climbed over the wall. And...and we're different. They changed us."

"Change?" said the Shouter -- what had Lance called him? -- and laughed bitterly. "You say it like they cut your hair. Change? Mutilation." His voice was rising again, and Nick winced. He was all too familiar with how hysterical the Shouter got.

"I'm okay, Nick," Lance was saying to him. "Really, it's better, knowing we're doing something." Which didn't change the fact that the pain was still there; it didn't just go away because you wished it did. Nick knew that all too well. "There are four of us now, and there are more out there. I'm still--" Suddenly Nick saw the fear on his face again, but only for a moment. "Why us, Nick?"

Nick shrugged helplessly, and brushed his fingers gently through Lance's hair, made suddenly sensitive to the movement since he knew he'd never be able to offer the same comfort to JC. He glanced over, and JC was backing away from the wall, looking frightened as the Shouter's voice rose.

"No, Chris," he said, his own voice trembling and thin. "Nick says we're not monsters, that I'm not. Even though we're different. They've got beautiful wings, him and Lance, and even if it's awful that it happened they're not awful because it did."

"That's right, JC," Nick agreed quietly, hoping the Shouter--Chris--didn't start making JC cry again. "Don't shout," he warned a little louder, still terrified of bringing down the attention of their keepers.

"Well how do I get over there, then?" demanded Chris. "The walls are too high and I'm a short bastard. Or can you fly over here with those wings of yours? Huh? Can you?"

"No," said Lance quietly, struggling to his feet again and moving toward the wall, taking JC's place. "No, they're just ... there. JC piled rocks, and debris, and it got high enough to climb over. Do you have rocks?"

"Do I have *rocks*?" said Chris. "I got nothing *but* rocks in one corner, but it's nowhere near here. You want me to pile my rocks? Are you serious?"

"Yes," said Lance firmly, holding his ground. "If you want to see us, you have to do it."

As he spoke to Chris, JC moved up close behind him, and Nick realized that he hadn't seen Lance's wounds and scars before, just the wings. "Oh, Lance," he said, and touched his back tentatively, and Lance flinched. "Oh, I'm sorry."

"Don't!" Nick spoke for Lance when Lance didn't, and reached for JC's hand, pulling it to safe distance. "Don't touch him, not there. It's too raw, it hurts too much." JC nodded, wide-eyed, and stepped back carefully. "Lance, please sit down," Nick pleaded, tugging gently at his arm. "Come on. You can't fly over and get him, you need to rest."

A loud crunching sound came from across the wall, and then a satisfied grunt. "There, I'm piling rocks. It would be a lot easier with a little help, you know. I'm not even sure why the hell I'm doing this, you bunch don't seem to be any better off than I am."

"Yeah, but we're not alone," said JC, loudly. "We're not alone on this side."

Nick half thought that was going to set Chris off again and braced himself for it, but it just seemed to make him work faster. Or do something that involved a lot of rock noises, anyway. "You're probably all crazy," he went on after a few moments. "You're probably just luring me over the wall to chop me up into little pieces."

"Well, they didn't chop me up," JC offered him. "I don't think they have anything sharp, here?"

Nick helped Lance back to the ground and wished they were closer to the stream, the stream that he bet ran through all the enclosures. And if it ran through all the enclosures, then maybe the secret to getting around was to go under the wall, instead of over it. But he would need daylight to check that out.

"We're not crazy," he said absently, still thinking about the water and rubbing Lance's palm between his fingers. "Or, not any crazier than everyone else in here. Why on earth would we want to chop you up? What would be the point?"

"Crazy people don't need to have a point," Chris said, sounding almost patient. "That's why they're crazy." There was another loud thump, and a clatter that sounded like gravel, and Nick winced again. This guy couldn't do ANYTHING quietly. "That should just about do it," came the thoughtful voice from across the wall. "Now the real question is...do I want to see you? Do you want to see me?"

"Just don't yell when you see me," said JC, his hand reaching up toward his head self-consciously. "Don't be afraid of us, when you see us. You already know that Lance and Nick, they have these beautiful wings, cream and gold. It's dark; can you see well enough to get over?"

"Oh yeah," said Chris, and Nick could hear him grunting. "Believe me, I can see fine."

"Then let's do this," said Lance, letting Nick keep him down even though Nick could see in his eyes that he wanted to get up. "Come over here, Chris. Join us."

"Why are we encouraging him?" Nick whispered to Lance. "He's done nothing but shout and scream and cause trouble since I can remember, he's not a very peaceful person and you need to REST." Whatever else he was going to say was lost when he saw more light rising behind the wall. Another person like JC? He wondered, and then JC gasped.

"Oh, oh...Chris..." He fell back a step, his hand pressed to his mouth, and Nick was so busy staring he bore the heat of JC's nearness without complaint.

"*Fuck* this is high," Chris groaned, not looking up from the wall to see any of them yet, though they could see him.

"Does it hurt?" asked JC softly, and he was touching his own hair again, running his fingers through it like it wasn't made of flame. "Does it hurt awfully?"

"What do you think?" snapped Chris, still not looking at them. Maybe not wanting to meet their eyes. Maybe not able to.

"It always hurts," said Lance. "But we're all still here." His back was bleeding, and Nick wished he had some more blackenroot right there. At least with JC and Chris there, he though, he wouldn't have any trouble finding it in the dark. And then he hated himself for thinking it.

"Oh, that's very deep, wingboy," Chris said, sarcasm thick as syrup in his voice. "Yeah, we sure are here, all right. No place else to be, really, and hey, I hear the food's good. Fuck." He finally looked up in their direction, and Nick had to close his own eyes against the sight of flames leaping hectically where Chris's should have been. "I don't see fire burning *you* alive," he went on relentlessly, and Nick's eyes flashed back open. His wings snapped to full extension instantly, reacting to his tension, and he could feel his lips pulling back from his teeth.

"Watch it." He was almost growling, and he stepped between Lance and Chris. "You can't even IMAGINE the pain he's in right now, what it feels like to have agony like a hundred knives twisting into your back, all the time, so you hold your tongue around him."

"Do you *know* what it's like to be on fire?" Chris growled right back, then he caught sight of JC -- turned his head toward him anyway -- and backed down a little. The pain of Nick's and Lance's he might not have understood, but JC's he did. "All right, fine, you hurt, we get it. So what the hell do we do now?"

He crossed the wall and dropped to the ground near them, more dexterous than he looked.

"I don't know what we do now," admitted JC. "But four is better than one." And four, as far as Nick was concerned, was definitely better than two and a Crier and a Shouter, and way better than the one he was before.

"Now," he said, thinking out loud, "now we should talk about why we're here, what we know, I think. Because it's so strange, this...I've never heard of people being taken and changed like we have been. They told me that they took only the most beautiful, the most talented, but I'm not sure WHY. Is it something to do with the war?"

"I don't know," JC whispered, curling himself even smaller. "They told me they were blessing me, but I don't feel blessed." His hands touched his fiery hair again, obsessively, like if he pushed it back often enough it would suddenly become normal hair again. Nick wondered what color it had been, before. "They told me it was sinful and ungrateful to cry."

"They're never going to make me grateful for this!" Chris shouted before anyone could stop him. "Never. I didn't ask for it, I didn't want it, and it's not an honor. And no matter how many times they dope me up and shock me I'm never going to believe that."

"Is that what makes you stop shouting?" JC asked quietly. "You scare me sometimes."

"Good." said Chris. "I want to scare them, too. I want to get out of here!"

Just looking at Chris was kind of scary. He always looked angry, and probably always would, even when he was smiling, because of his eyes. He looked ... vengeful. Beautiful and vengeful and the perfect thing to make people believe and keep them in line. And Nick started to have an inkling about what was being done. But it couldn't be done without their cooperation.

"Well, does the dope make your eyes stop hurting?" Nick shrugged when everyone stared at him. "It's a legitimate question, you guys. I mean, Lance is about to fall over right now, he only got here two days ago. And if shouting gets him some good medicine, I don't see why we shouldn't give it a try."

"Did I mention the shocks?" Chris asked sarcastically. "Because I was almost sure I had. Believe me, it's not a good method of pain control."

"The poison roots work," JC interjected hesitantly. "For the first time, my head doesn't feel like it's going to explode any minute. I can think again, without crying." Nick wondered how upset their keepers would be to hear that.

"They're not poison," insisted Lance, finally speaking up again. Nick could hear the pain even in his voice, making it tremble. "They're medicine, I told you, my mother uses them. I wish it lasted a little longer, though." It was lasting just fine on Nick and JC, Lance just seemed to be burning through it -- and Nick winced at his choice of expression -- too fast.

"So what's so bad about wings, anyway?" asked Chris and grabbed at Lance's shoulder, and Lance cried out sharply.

"NO!" Nick grabbed Chris's arm and yanked him away, jarring Lance in the process and making him scream. There was a flurry of movement, complicated by wings and flames and Chris's loud voice, and when everything went still, Nick was on his knees at Lance's side, holding his hand and stroking his knee. "Don't touch him," he whispered again, startled to realize he was about to cry; maybe FOR Lance, whose face seemed to be locked and frozen in pain. "They tear your back apart, and put new things in, alien things that make just breathing agony and every step torture, that's what's bad about wings."

JC fretted on the edges of his vision, clearly unable to stand still, though he had shied away from the violence. "Does he need...can I bring water? Or more of the roots? Would that help? Lance, are you okay? Lance?"

Lance wasn't saying anything, just staying crumpled at Nick's side and breathing harshly. He could probably only think about the pain and breathing at the moment, which was how Nick had been. It was okay as long as you moved slowly and carefully, but the moment you were jarred it was torture. It was a testament to Lance's willpower -- or stubbornness, more like -- that he'd lasted even this long.

"Well, you should've just said," grumbled Chris, but he looked at least a little contrite. "So what are these damn poison roots, anyway?"

"I'll get some," said JC again. "I remember what they look like, I'll get some." And he backed further away from them, toward the stream. "It'll be okay, Lance ... "

"They're not poison, they're medicine," Nick repeated wearily, since Lance seemed to be unable to defend his roots himself. "They're...you chew them, and they taste awful, but the pain eases quickly. Soon, for me and JC anyway, it is almost ignorable. For him though...it's so fresh..." He shook his head and squeezed Lance's knee gently, offering silent support. "He needs to rest in the bed. For the first days I barely moved at all, and here he is walking around and meeting people. Only I don't think I can carry him myself, and you or JC would burn him to ashes."

"I got enough for Chris, too," JC offered quietly from behind Nick, making him jump. "It's easy to see them when you bring your own light with you on the search." And truly, JC and Chris were like torches, lighting a small area around themselves, casting strange shadows against the stone wall.

"I'm not eating any poison," insisted Chris. "Not until I see someone else eat it first."

Nick had no doubt he would be watching Lance eat it, who was already reaching for one of the roots. "Honest, they're better in tea," he said again, and took a deep breath that had to *hurt* even as it felt good. "I'll show you, someday."

"Yeah, because there aren't really any pots around here, are there," grumbled Chris. "So I have to eat this thing? What does it taste like?" Nick though he was probably better off not knowing, really.

"Awful and terrible and like poison," said JC candidly before anyone could stop him. "Not that I've eaten poison. But it works."

"It truly does," Nick agreed. "I didn't really believe him either, until I tried it for myself. Maybe if you hold your nose it'll taste better? My mother told me that about bittergreens when I didn't want to eat them..." He trailed off, feeling a shameful heat and prickle behind his eyes, and focused hard on Lance chewing doggedly at his root. "I wonder if they miss me..." It was almost a whisper, more to himself than anyone else.

"Of course they do," Chris's voice was unexpectedly kind. "I'm sure our families all miss us, and wonder where we've gone. MINE will be completely frantic. Though I'm a bit older than you are." His burning eyes seemed to look at each of them a moment, though it was so hard to tell. "You're all quite young. I wonder if everyone they've taken is? You have what, eighteen summers, Nick? And Lance and JC no more, surely."

"Twenty-two," JC corrected him. "Or I will, soon. I don't know about them. We haven't ... we've only all just met. I don't know what my family is thinking. Maybe ... the might've thought I ran away. I'd talked about it, sometimes, running away and going to the city and finding my way there. Only I never got my chance ... "

"I just didn't come home one day," whispered Lance, and Nick was relieved to note that he was starting to be able to sit up again, even though what Nick really wanted was to get him inside to lie down. "I went to my classes at the university and I just ... never came home. Oh, mama ... " And he sounded so sad.

"Shh," Nick whispered to him, gathering him into a hug as carefully as if Lance was made of spidersilk, mindful not to touch his back. "It will be all right, isn't that what you were saying? They can't keep us here forever, we'll have a chance to see them again, to explain, surely." An image of his brother screaming in fear at the sight of his wings flashed into his mind, and he pushed it firmly away. "You were in the university?" He thought the subject might distract Lance. "You must be brilliant, to be such a scholar. I was to be join my father running the farm next year, and marry the daughter of the dressmaker." He made a face at the memory of her. Perhaps there was some good, no matter how tiny, in all of this.

"High aspirations indeed," Chris said dryly, watching him hold Lance. "We're clearly from all walks of life, then, and different ages. I see no pattern in our abduction. It seems so senseless!" He started pacing quickly, slamming one fist into the palm of the other hand.

"He works in mysterious ways," said JC vaguely. "But I don't think He works like this. They're using us to their own ends, whatever those ends are." He said down and pressed his face to his knees and Nick was afraid he was about to start wailing again. Their whole situation with one another was so fragile now, it was like the slightest thing could upset it all.

"I'm not brilliant," argued Lance, which was exactly what all brilliant people said. "I just work hard. You were to be married, Nick? Did you love her?" Which had nothing to do with *anything*, really.

"Ugh, no," Nick replied instantly, screwing his face up in distaste. "She was a troll. Pretty, but nasty mean and she smelled funny. I hated her, really. It would have been a terrible match." He tugged gently at a stray lock of Lance's hair, pleased when even JC seemed to smile at his words. "But since I'm not brilliant like *some* people, it was what my life was to be. I had accepted it." He sighed.

"And you were ripped away from that, just like the rest of us." Nick was beginning to wonder if Chris had always been angry, or if it was a result of what had happened to them. He certainly seemed comfortable with the emotion.

"Well, I can't say *that's* something I mind too much," he offered mildly, and Chris swung to look at him, startled, before barking a short laugh. "All right, fine. Your fiancée's absence is not something to add to our list of grievances. Still, I can't imagine they want us for anything GOOD, not the way they went about this. I wonder, if we climb enough walls, if we can make it to the outside?" Chris eyed the wall like he was willing to start trying immediately.

"There has to be a way out of here," agreed JC. "If there's a way in, there's a way out." It was inspired logic, if impractical, and the change in him was miraculous. Nick was going to sing the praises of pois-- of blackenroot for the rest of his days if this is what it could do for people.

"My mother always told me that you should always marry for love," said Lance, quite seriously. "She said it's an affront to our ancestors, to couple and breed with someone who does not know our soul."

Nick blinked at him, caught off balance by Lance's interest in his planned marriage and outside life. Really, shouldn't they all be thinking like Chris and JC? But Lance was so appealingly solemn, his huge eyes dark in the light of JC's hair, that Nick couldn't NOT respond. "It's...it would be nice to do so," he agreed carefully. "But arranged marriages are our way, especially when a boy has reached a certain age and has not shown interest in any of the local girls. My father's land adjoins the dressmakers, and our children would be wealthy." He sighed, thinking of it. His father would be furious about the loss of the match, as well as worried about Nick's disappearance.

Chris seemed to have noticed the change in JC as well, because he was watching him with a little smile, and then reached for a root of his own. After the first bite, though, it looked like he barely restrained himself from throwing the root away and throwing up the contents of his stomach. "This," he declared, staring at it after swallowing with obvious difficulty, "is the foulest thing I have ever put in my mouth. And children, that is saying something." Lance actually grinned a bit, hearing that, the first time Nick had actually seen that expression on his face.

"Yeah, me too," he admitted, and licked his lips and just for a moment, he looked like he was thinking about something other than their situation.

"Oh, it's not *that* bad," said JC, with the certainty of someone who wasn't in the middle of enduring it. It really was that bad, though not so bad as some of the things Nick's family had had to eat during the war.

"My mother," Lance said again, "always told me that if I didn't find someone to love, it was okay to stay alone. That we had all that we needed to survive. And we did."

"Your mother," Chris interjected before Nick could reply, "sounds like either a very wise or a very naive woman, or both. You probably take after her, with my luck." He chewed absently on the root, making faces as he kept staring at the wall.

"I think it sounds nice," Nick defended, remembering too clearly his own anger when he'd been informed of his impending wedding. "My father's very practical, though, and I'm the oldest. He said it was my responsibility to see that we never went hungry again."

"Well, it's not your concern any more," Chris said briskly. "These walls are, and our keepers, and will someone please tell me what that bastard is laughing about?" The strange high voice of The Laugher seemed to travel most clearly at night.

"Same thing you shout about, I guess," said Lance, mobile enough now to reposition himself into something more comfortable. "Same thing JC cries about. Same thing Nick lets keep him silent and inside his head. But look at us now ... still trapped in here but talking about other things, about home. My mother says ... "

"Oh *don't*," said Chris, but Lance had already stopped talking and was grinning at him. "Oh, you little bastard!"

"What?" JC was looking back and forth between them, clearly baffled, and Nick just shrugged when JC turned that look on him. "I don't get it. What does Lance's mother say?" JC just seemed even more confused when Chris and Lance both broke into outright laughter, and Nick couldn't blame him, though the strange sound of honest, not-insane laughter tickled his ears and made him grin.

"Right," Chris said, clapping his hands lightly once he'd stopped laughing. "So I figure we should try that direction first--what?" He narrowed burning eyes at Nick's shaking head, and Nick had to look away.

"Not tonight," he said as firmly as he could. "Lance is tired, and he's still bleeding. Even if that stuff makes him not feel it, he is, and he needs to rest. Right now, or he'll just hurt himself worse." He stood up as tall as he could, realizing for the first time that he loomed over JC and particularly Chris. "In fact, I think we should all go back where we belong, for now. We'll...if Lance came just recently, there may be more new ones, so watch carefully. And we can talk more tomorrow?"

JC looked up at him, wide-eyed. "I don't want to go back," he said. "No, no, I'm alone over there and things will just be back to the way they were before and maybe I'll never see you again. Maybe I'll go crazy. Maybe we'll all go crazy."

"Yeah, and maybe we're already crazy," said Chris, and wrapped his fingers around JC's arm. JC's eyes got even wider and he jerked reflexively, and Nick wondered how long it had been since someone had really touched him. As they watched, Chris ran his hand over JC's hair, something neither he nor Lance could endure. "Suck it up, JC, they'll be right next door."

"I'll be okay, really," Lance tried to insist, but no way no how, he was going to get some real rest, and do some real healing, if Nick had to tie him down to do it.

"I'll have to boost you, I think," Nick said, ignoring Lance, watching Chris's fingers in JC's hair and wondering why seeing it made him feel strange inside. He hunched his shoulders, determined to ignore the pain, since he was the only one who could lift them far enough. "If we're careful, you'll be able to get down the other sides by yourselves. Just remember, take apart your rock piles before you sleep."

"Oh, yeah," JC nodded agreeably, but not hard enough to get Chris to stop touching him. "I hurt my finger making the pile, see?" He held up a faintly bruised finger. "I won't be able to take my rocks down, so I guess I'll just have to stay here instead."

"Because they won't notice you're gone?" Nick looked at him disbelievingly, and JC stared at the ground. "I promise we'll talk to you, JC. Or I will. Lance will be sleeping. We won't go quiet again, I swear it."

"You were always quiet before," JC said softly. "You were always quiet and Chris was always loud and I don't want it to be like that anymore. I couldn't take that much longer. I'll go crazy, I will."

"Make you a deal," said Chris, and when he wasn't shouting or growling, his voice was remarkably playful and pleasant. "You don't go crazy, and I won't go crazy either. Cause any more of that crying, JC, and I was gonna bust right through those walls of mine."

"That might not be such a bad thing," said JC, but he was smiling a little again.

"No busting," Nick said, alarmed. "No more crying or shouting, either, how 'bout. I was quiet, but now I'm not, and I don't think I could go back even if I wanted to." He gestured vaguely at his forehead. "I'm out. Or something. It's all your faults."

"Thank god," Chris said briefly. "I thought you were dead, actually; after the first couple of days you shut off like someone'd hit a switch." He patted JC's shoulder, and prowled back towards his wall. "Let's break this party up before the goons break it up for us. Same time tomorrow?"

"I'll be waiting," said JC, and his voice was shaking again but he seemed to be putting on a brave face. "I know where to find you now. The rocks are on my side. I'll be back." Nick smiled at him; that was the spirit.

"God damn, I have to move those rocks again," snorted Chris. "Well, at least I'll be in great shape by the time we get out of here." He stretched and cracked his back and looked so *normal* Nick could almost forget that he had flames coming from his eyes. Almost. "Yes, tomorrow," said Lance. "Tomorrow. And we'll work this whole thing out."

"WE will work it out," Nick said firmly. "You will supervise, if you can even sit up tomorrow. You pushed too hard today, Lance." He moved to stand behind Chris; if he wasn't looking directly at you, the heat wasn't nearly so intense.

"You know," Chris glanced over his shoulder and Nick had to step back quickly or be singed, "with those pretty yellow feathers you might actually *be* a mother hen." Nick's jaw dropped in indignation, and JC giggled and then clapped his hand over his mouth apologetically. "Now boost me up, mama bird, so I can get back to *my* nest."

"Be careful," said Lance, but he didn't try to stop him. He knew that the only option was for Nick to help them over, even at the risk of getting scorched. He supposed that was what the stream was for. Healing. "And they're not yellow, they're gold."

"Yeah, yellow," snorted Chris. "Quick, quick, I need to attack those rocks. Are you sure I can't just leave them there? Cover them with ... a bush or something?"

"Don't risk it, Chris," pleaded JC, "or we might never see you again."

"Fine," Chris sighed, and stepped carefully into Nick's cupped hands. He was heavier than he looked, and his bare foot was small and hot and hard in Nick's hands as he lifted, gritting his teeth against the tearing pain in his sore shoulders and the heat he could feel radiating from Chris. One powerful heave, and Chris wobbled and pushed and suddenly his weight was gone, and Nick staggered back, barely keeping himself from falling as he watched Chris's legs disappear up over the wall. "I'm over," he called, and Nick sighed.

"Ouch." He'd said it quietly, but JC still stepped to his side quickly, eyes worried in his flame-lit face. "I'm gonna need a minute before I try that again." He could feel the raw place where his wings connected throbbing with fresh hurt, and he crouched down carefully, bracing his palms on the cool ground.

"Maybe we'll sleep in the stream tonight," suggested Lance, and that didn't sound like such a bad idea. How plentiful was that poison root anyway? They were going to be going through an awful lot of it, to keep going. Maybe if Lance knew so much about that stuff from his mother, he might think up an even better way to kill the pain.

After a few minutes of rest, with JC hovering nervously by his side, Nick finally nodded at him and rubbed at his shoulder like it would make the pain and the heat go away. "Promise me I'll see you tomorrow," insisted JC before he let Nick escort him to the other side of the enclosure and hoist him up. "Promise me again."

"We'll see you tomorrow," Lance promised him, and JC nodded and let Nick lead him away. JC was lighter than Chris, though less compact, but at least Nick didn't have to lift as high and as hard as he had with Chris before JC was scrambling up and over under his own power. Still, he thought he could smell singed feathers, and he stumbled back to Lance's side in the sudden quiet after calling good night to JC, collapsing down to the ground beside him with a little groan.

"We're going to need a ladder or something," he stated definitely, through the throb in his back and hands. "Especially if they're going to be coming and going. Or maybe tomorrow we can look at where the stream goes, because damn. They're both kind of heavy." He turned his eyes on Lance, taking in the lines of pain around his eyes and his tight mouth, and sighed. "Can you stand up and make it to the bed?"

Lance nodded and started struggling to his feet, favouring his aching back. "Yeah, I shouldn't have any trouble squeezing back in behind my bush, and it's really awfully soft back there. JC made it back all right?" He looked at the wall JC had disappeared over, in the distance across the enclosure, but they didn't hear any sounds from either of the men they'd just met. Except the occasional scraping of rock. "I don't know what we can do about a ladder. We'll have to figure something out."

"You're not going back behind the bush," Nick said, scandalized that Lance would even consider it. "There's a cot inside, it's not fancy but it's got a straw mattress and it's soft and that's where you're sleeping. Lord, Lance. What are you thinking?" He took hold of Lance's elbows, pulling him gently to his feet. "JC got back just fine, I'm sure he's unstacking rocks as we speak. Stop worrying about them for a little bit and worry about yourself."

"I know there's a cot inside," said Lance. "*Your* cot, and I know there's only one. I'm not going to be perfectly comfortable wherever I go, you know that. I'm feeling okay, Nick, I am. Better than I have since I got here." Considering how he was when he got there, that was something that probably went without saying. "If I start worrying about me, I'll just be back where I started again. My mother always said that it's the better man who puts others' needs before his own." Nick doubted his mother would say that if she saw what state her son was in right then.

"Well, fine. Then let me be a better man and worry about you FOR you. I'd hate to think your mom wouldn't like me." Nick started tugging gently at Lance's arm, steering him towards the door. "Anyway, it's not my cot, it's the cot that was here when I got here. Since you were put here too, it's clearly OUR cot, and you have just as much a right to it as me. More, because I had it all to myself for a month, and you've been sleeping under a bush for two days. I'm not gonna let you sleep outside, Lance, and that's final."

Lance didn't seem to have the energy to argue anymore, whether he wanted to or not, and Nick wished that they had a bucket or something, so that he could haul some stream water inside with them and wash Lance's back as he rested. He figured that would feel as good as anything did for him, right then.

"My mother would like you an awful lot," said Lance finally. "You're a hard worker, and a good person. That's what she looks for in people. A good heart."

"Chris was right," Nick answered after a moment. "She does sound smart. I dunno if we'd get along, though. I'm definitely not a hard worker, not at all." He drew Lance through the low doorway, ducking his head as always, and looked around in the dimness. "Where's JC when you need him?" he mused aloud, before feeling his way towards the cot. "Now lie down, on your tummy. Do you want water? Or food, oh my goodness, you probably haven't eaten anything but those roots since you got here! Are you hungry?"

"Haven't really been thinking about food," said Lance, and he let out an audible sigh of relief as he lay down on the cot, taking all the pressure off his muscles. "Everything else has just been too much. Do you ... do you *have* food? Enough food, for the two of us? I've never seen them leave any, since I've been here, or do they leave it inside?" Inside the room was the only place where there was a door, and it was locked tightly, but Nick had no illusions that there weren't other ways in.

"They leave it inside," Nick answered, nodding. I've got food, sure, they leave some every day or two. Oh, hey." It was like a lightbulb went on in his head. "You must be why they left so much more last time! I ate most of it, but there's some left." He found the half-loaf of bread and chunk of hard cheese where he'd left it, and brought it to Lance, wondering how he'd eat it lying flat like that. "You should really eat. I bet your mom would say it was a good idea."

Lance's eyes were already closed, but he nodded his head. "My mother said that the best thing for healing wasn't always medicines, it was good food and good rest. She always got after the neighboring farmers, for never resting when they were ill. They were so stubborn." And suddenly he was smiling at little. "And yes, before you say it, she called me stubborn, too." Nick hadn't been going to *say* it, but he was certainly thinking it.

Nick crouched by the side of the bed, still holding the food in his hands. "Which did she think was more important, good food or good rest?" he asked worriedly. He already had a lot of respect for Lance's mother, and he wasn't sure if he should be stuffing the food down Lance's throat or leaving him alone to rest. "Because you should either eat or sleep, but you can't do both at the same time, or you might choke."

"Well, then you have to help me sit up again," said Lance, blinking his eyes open. "You can't promise me food and then not deliver, Nick." He started trying to get up on his own, before Nick even had a chance to help. "Now that you've got it on my brain, suddenly I'm hungry. Plus ... might be nice to get the taste of blackenroot out of my mouth. That stuff is *foul*."

"There is no way you can blame anyone for that taste but yourself," Nick said, grinning in relief as Lance made it to a sitting position, and handing him the bread and cheese. "It works awfully well, though, you were right. You've been right about a lot of things." He touched Lance's knee with a careful fingertip, not wanting to presume on his personal space. "Thank you."

Lance nodded a tiny bit. "Thank you for not being scary," he said softly. "I was scared enough, in this place, all alone. I'm still scared, but not so much anymore. And scared of what I'm gonna be now, of what it's gonna feel like while I'm healing and while my wings grow, about what my life is going to be like from now on. But at least I'm alive, and I'm not alone, and I'm still me." He took a bite of the cheese and made a face, but kept eating.

"Yeah," Nick agreed, nodding. "Still you, all right. And it's pretty incredible to have you here. I was alone for so long..." he trailed off, thinking about it, and then shook his head briskly, feeling his hair fall into his face. "Well, I'm not any more, because you're here. And you're very brave and not scary either, which is cool, because if they'd given Chris wings and put him in here with me? I'd have tried to drown myself in the stream a long time ago." He fanned his wings lightly, liking the breeze it made. "I wonder how big they're gonna get?"

Lance looked thoughtful as he munched on the bread. "Maybe we *will* be able to fly in the end," he murmured. "Once they get big enough and we figure out how to use them. You think? I mean ... you're obviously able to move yours, right? Spread them and flap them? So ... " He shrugged, then winced. Shrugging was a bad idea, in his condition, and Nick would know. "Chris *is* kinda scary, though, but it's just because he's scared. He doesn't like it when things are out of his control."

"And you know this because...?" Nick raised an eyebrow at him. "Me, I thought he was just mad. Angry-mad, not crazy-mad, though he might be that, too. He liked JC, though, which was nice." He watched Lance munch bread and cheese, smiling a little. "I can flap them, sure, but it feels strange still. I weigh kind of a lot, too, so...maybe we'll be able to glide?" He peered over his shoulders. The long, straight primary feathers on the tips of his wings reached down to his calves already.

"People weren't made to fly," said Lance, and sighed, and ate more cheese. "I used to know a boy like Chris, before we moved, during the war. He got mad a lot, when bad things happened. It just meant he didn't know how to ... he couldn't deal. And I guess I can just kind of read people, too. My mother told me I was good at that, that it was a good skill."

Nick was beginning to feel like Lance's mother was in the room with them. "She was probably right about it being a good skill, but I still think he might be crazy. All that shouting, and then they hurt him, and he didn't learn not to? It must have made them nuts." He settled back down to a crouch, glad the wings bent enough to make the position possible. Chairs with backs were going to be a problem, he could tell. "Hey, do you want some water, too?"

Lance nodded and swallowed his cheese. "Being close to Chris and JC made me all ... dry. You know? Like being outside in the summertime makes you dry. Do we have enough water for both of us? How much water do they leave us? Of course, there's always the stream. Where do you think the stream comes from?"

"Outside, somewhere, probably," Nick shrugged. "Mostly I just drink from it, but they leave water in a pitcher, too." He reached out an arm, glad to be tall, and snagged it, dragging it over and handing it to Lance. "I know what you mean. I felt sunburned after lifting JC. Chris was a little better, but they're both so *hot*." He rubbed his palms on his pants, remembering the prickly heat of their skin. "I wonder what would happen if they went swimming?"

"I'm pretty sure they've tried that," said Lance, gulping the water and spilling a few drops on his chest. "If I was on fire? That's the first thing I would do. Get wet. And even if JC didn't understand it was fire, he would still want to get wet if he felt that hot. So it probably doesn't help." He sipped the water a little slower after that initial gulp. "Where do you come from, Nick?"

"East," Nick sighed. "Farmland, mostly, no big cities or anything. It's beautiful in the spring." He shrugged off the memories of home and family, not wanting to feel bad any more. "I think, to get me to a place like this, they must have brought me many miles. I don't remember it, they made me sleep. But I still can't imagine why they came such a way to get me." He took the empty pitcher back from Lance, setting it aside. He'd fill it at the stream later. "You were in the university, I know, but before that? Your accent is so strange. And then there's that ancestor-star thing..." he trailed off encouragingly.

"We're from the south," said Lance, brushing the crumbs off his knees and the water off his chest. "Beyond the border. Our lands were torn up by the war, they broke the spirit of so many people ... " He trailed off and for a moment Nick thought he wasn't going to continue, but then he lifted his head and went on. "My parents brought me and my sister here for a better life, so we would be safe. We lived on the edge of the city. My sister was married, just last spring. And me ... I wanted to learn things, everything I could."

"Because you're brilliant," Nick nodded understandingly. "So you went to university, I've heard it's very difficult to be accepted. And you were studying, and now you're here..." He sighed, rubbing the top of his shoulder unconsciously. His back just ached. "I was thinking earlier, when I looked at Chris...he's...even when he's not shouting, his eyes are frightening. And you, you're beautiful. Lance, what if they're trying to make angels so that the people think the gods support the war?" He held his breath, hoping that Lance would tell him not to be ridiculous.

Lance sat still and silent, and was certainly taking his time about telling Nick he was being dumb. "I don't know much about what your people think angels are like," he said finally, "and I don't know much about the gods that you believe in. It's not something I ever studied, and I haven't been in this land so long that I've learned. So I don't know if that's true or not, JC's hair ... Chris's eyes ... do they look like angels, to you? To your people?"

"They look like pieces of angels," Nick whispered, looking at the floor. "Just like us, with our wings. Angels have wings, and faces so beautiful you can't look at them. Burning eyes and hands and hair, different things depending on who you talk to, but yeah. Those are angels. What do YOU think angels look like?"

"I don't know," said Lance, making small, vague gestures. "Just like people, I guess, only they're really, really good. Like, perfect. But it doesn't matter what they look like. It's what angels *are* that's important, not what we see. Don't you think?"

"Well, probably," Nick said, working through it in his head. "But you can't see what's on the inside of the person, so angels have the wings and the flames and swords and things so we'll know who they are. Otherwise, they wouldn't be angels, they'd just be really good people." Moving carefully, he stretched out on his stomach on the floor by the cot, sighing in relief as gravity stopped dragging his wings down. "No matter what YOU believe, people here think angels look like...us, now."

Lance didn't look surprised by that; Nick wondered if he was surprised by anything, anymore. "Wings don't make an angel." he said again, and it seemed to be one of those truths that he was clinging to. "Nor eyes, nor hair, nor hand, nor anything else." He gave a little smile. "A lot of my people have come to this country, fleeing the war. They won't believe."

Nick shrugged as well as he could, lying down. No matter what Lance thought, a lot of people WOULD believe, Nick was pretty sure. It was amazing what people would believe when they wanted to. "Well, I guess we'll find out," he sighed, after a long pause. "If we don't find a way out, anyway, or unless I'm totally wrong and they're just doing this for fun. Which would be awfully sick, and kind of a lot of trouble, I think."

"We're going to get out of here," said Lance firmly. "No matter why they're doing this, it's not the right reason. There *is* no right reason. There's never a reason to take away personal freedom like this, to treat someone's body like this, that's not your own." Nick couldn't imagine anyone treating their *own* body like this. "We'll find a way. We will. We have to."

"Okay," Nick said dubiously, interrupted by a huge yawn. He'd done more talking and walking and moving that day than the entire month previously, and he was starting to feel the effects. He could only imagine what Lance must be feeling. "We'll think about it tomorrow. I think your mom would want you to sleep now, Lance. Rest is good, remember?" He hoped invoking Lance's mother would keep him from getting up and looking for a way out right away, as his last words had indicated he might.

He needn't have worried; Lance barely twitched. "The cot is big enough for two," he said softly. "I wouldn't feel right, leaving you on the floor, Nick. You wouldn't be able to sprawl, but ... it's better up here, and you know it. And we can both get some good sleep tonight. I think we're going to have a very busy day tomorrow."

"Me, I'll have a busy day," Nick murmured. "You'll be resting, and eating poiso-I mean, blackenroot. We can't share, Lance, my wings're too big now, I think." He could tuck them in, but it was so satisfying to let them relax out, spread and limp for once, that he didn't mind the floor at all. "It's okay, it's not uncomfortable. Maybe tomorrow we'll get away and find someplace with a *big* bed."

"That would be nice," murmured Lance, and reached out and rested his fingertips on Nick's arm. "We'll both have a busy day, so I might as well get rest now, while I can. After all, who knows who we'll be meeting tomorrow."

"Mmphm," Nick sighed, relaxing under Lance's hand. He wasn't alone. "We've met The Shouter and The Crier, as long as the next one isn't The Crazy Silent Stabber or something, I figure we've got the hard part over with." He turned his face to the side, wished for the thousandth time that he could sleep on his back like he used to, and let his eyes fall closed.

* * *

Normally Nick woke at first light -- he hadn't slept well ever since he'd come here -- but when he opened his eyes this time he realized it was long past. Lance's hand was still on his arm but he was, mercifully, still fast asleep and there was no force known to man that would make Nick wake him up before he absolutely had to. Carefully he slipped out from Lance's grasp and stood up, forgetting just for a moment, like he always did, the extra weight he now bore on his back.

He staggered back with a muffled curse before finding his balance and standing straight again, and a quick glance at Lance showed that he'd slept right through Nick's racket. He sighed, and scratched his back as far back as he could reach, the healing skin maddeningly tight. More of that inedible root was definitely on the menu for the morning.

The bright sunlight outside made him blink, amazed at how long he'd slept, and after a quick trip behind a bush--very unangelic, Nick thought with a snort--he wandered towards JC's wall. "JC," he called quietly, wondering if he was awake yet. "Hey, JC? You there?"

"Nick?" came his excited voice. "Nick? You came back! I left one of the rocks near the wall and I've been sitting here all morning, waiting for you. I was afraid something had happened to you, you were all quiet again, you and Lance. Are you okay?"

Nick had to chuckle, shaking his head, at the image of JC sitting on a rock, waiting eagerly. "We were sleeping, JC," he said gently. "We're okay, but Lance is really tired. He only got here two days ago, you remember what it was like at first, I bet. And he hadn't eaten anything that whole time." He stretched, carefully extending his wings. "Are YOU okay? You sound better."

"Oh yeah," said JC cheerfully, "but if you hadn't come back, I probably wouldn't be. You were sleeping really? I've been up for three hours now, I think. It felt like three hours; it's hard to tell. I also thought maybe you were talking to Chris again instead of me, only I didn't hear any voices and I'm pretty good at listening to voices. Is Lance doing better this morning? He looked awful last night, just awful." Nick almost couldn't believe this nonstop babble out of someone who up to that point had done little but sob and wail.

"Lance is still sleeping," answering the one clear question he'd managed to get out of all that. "He needs lots of sleep, and lots of water and food and not to go crawling around over walls, which I'll bet he's going to try to talk me into when he wakes up...we can't let him, okay, JC? He's still very broken, only he won't admit it." Nick sighed. "I'm afraid Chris will start shouting again if I talk to him, so I came to talk to you first. Plus I figured you'd be up, and stuff. Does your head hurt still? Did you find any of those yellow flowers over there?"

"Yeah, they grow all along the stream," said JC, "especially in the shade. I went and found some when I got up this morning; I hurt something awful, and the poison root cleared that right up. Well, not right up, but you know. It's better. I could think again. I've been thinking a lot this morning, really, since I was here all alone and all. And no, no, Lance can't climb walls, not yet. Is he bleeding again? It was awful, when he was bleeding."

"Yeah, it was," Nick agreed, bemused and amused by JC's chatter, even about such serious subjects. "It's stopped for now, but if he doesn't sit still it'll start up again. I think Lance is really stubborn." He sat carefully on a fallen branch, which made him think of how JC had described his courtyard. "You said there weren't any trees over there, just rocks. I bet it's 'cause of the fire, huh? What do you use for a pillow when you sleep?"

"I just ... I use the pillow they gave me," said JC curiously. "It's kind of rough. I wonder what it is. Wow, it's probably a good thing I never tried to lie down on the grass, huh? That might've been ... bad." And oh no, Nick was sure he just heard a sniffle. "I used to love doing that, lying down in the grass and staring at the sky, at the clouds, at the stars. I can't do that anymore, can I?"

"Of course you can," he said quickly, deliberately cheerful. "You'll just have to bring your pillow with you, or maybe rest your head on a stone. The stars are still there, JC, you can still look at them. The clouds, too." He shifted uneasily, wishing Lance was there. Lance seemed to have known just what to say to JC, last night. "Oh, I was wondering last night...have you gone swimming? Does it make your hair go out?"

JC sniffled again, louder. "The water only makes it stop burning while I'm underneath it. It comes back again as soon as I'm out. I don't ... maybe it doesn't even go out, maybe the water just makes me not feel it. It'll always be like that, now, forever and ever." Another sniffle, but no sobs yet. "What does it feel like to have wings?"

"Painful," Nick admitted wryly. "Very very strange, like wearing a pack you can never take off, with the frame jammed under your skin." He flexed his shoulders, grimacing. "Maybe...maybe it'll get better, stop hurting, JC, you think? And you're not alone, there's me, and Chris, and Lance, and others...Your hair is beautiful, it truly is. And just think, you won't ever have to buy torches again!" As soon as it came out of his mouth he winced, though he hoped that the comment was just loopy enough to appeal to JC.

It was; JC giggled. Giggled like Nick's sisters used to giggle. "Well, I guess there had to be *something* good about it, right? It'll make it awfully hard to hide if we ever run away, though. I'd have to find a hood that doesn't burn. Maybe I'll have to take my pillowcase with me, you think?" He sighed and the giggling stopped. "Where will be go, when we leave here? Where can people like us go?"

Nick blinked at the stone wall. He'd been so focused on the possibility of getting out, away, that he hadn't even considered where they'd go. "Well," he finally said, slowly, feeling his way. "Well, we could go back to our families, right? I mean. They'd get used to it, right? They'd have to. Or...or maybe..." He trailed off, mind empty of ideas. "We could get a house together?"

"Yeah, I don't know either," said JC, summing up Nick's unsaid thoughts. "I don't know how my family would see me but ... I don't think I can go back, not like this. And if I can't go back like *this*,then maybe I can never go back. And ... that's ... I don't want to think that. I had ... friends. I had a life."

"I think we all did," Nick answered softly, rocking a little where he sat, remembering brother and sisters and father and mother. "Maybe...maybe we can fix it. We can find a way to put out the fires...Lance and I can c-c-cut off our wings..." the thought of the pain that would entail made him curl over his knees protectively. "Or, you know, not. But either way, we've got to stick together. All of us."

"Maybe we should just think about getting out of here first, then," said JC, almost too softly for Nick to hear. "One thing at a time. We don't need to worry about that yet anyway. We just need you to survive. We just need to make it out. I was ... I was thinking about something. And I wanted to ask you guys first if you thought it was a good idea."

"Ask away," Nick said. "The person you probably should be talking to about ideas is Lance, though. He's the one who had the idea to talk to you and Chris in the first place, he's the smart one here."

"I was just wondering," JC went on at the slightest encouragement. "Do you think I should see who's on the other side of me? Beyond the opposite wall? I wasn't sure ... I was afraid of what I might find ... "

"Huh." Nick turned the idea over in his mind. For all his flaming hair, JC seemed sweet in a way that none of the rest of them were, sweet and somehow fragile, though maybe it was all the crying that was influencing Nick's opinion. "Well. I don't remember hearing anything from over there, unless I'm thinking in the wrong direction. Are you sure there's someone even there? Maybe you could peek really sneaky-quiet. In the daytime, so your hair doesn't give you away."

"I don't remember hearing anything either," admitted JC. "But I didn't hear anything from you, and you turned out to be real and nice. So maybe there's someone there, too. Someone who just ... doesn't scream, or sing, or do anything to get people's attention. Or maybe he's sitting there with an axe ready to shop me to bits. Huh. You know, we could really use an axe ... "

"JC!" Nick stood up, alarmed. "Don't go over there if there's a crazy person with an axe, no matter how much we need one. I don't want you to get chopped to bits." He wished he could see through the wall, to judge JC's mood. Maybe also to see him in the daylight; he wondered what that incredible fire-hair looked like in the sun. "It might be no one, or, yeah, maybe someone nice. But if they look dangerous, come right back over your wall. No risks."

"I don't really think they'll have an axe, Nick," said JC, far more reasonable than Nick was being. "I mean ... that would be really dumb. If they want to keep us here, and alive, then they won't give us something that could take care of both those problems pretty easily. Maybe I'll just ... I'll peek. You'll wait here while I peek? It might take a little while, to pile up rocks again."

"Let me know when you're going to peek over," Nick said, wringing his hands nervously. "I have to go make sure Lance is okay, and I should probably say hello to Chris...he's all by himself too. So you go pile rocks, and I'll come back soon, okay? But don't go peeking before I'm back. Just in case." Not that there was anything he could do if it turned out there WAS an axe-wielding maniac on the other side of JC's wall, but he'd feel better knowing what was going on.

"Okay," JC promised him, "okay. I won't peek until after I talk to you again. Oh Nick, maybe we'll find someone else, too!" He sounded so excited by the prospect; he was just brimming with hope. And they all needed that -- a little hope in their lives, that there was something better for them out there. That this imprisonment wasn't forever.

"Okay. Be careful, JC." He patted the rock wall as if JC could feel it, and made his way across the courtyard, stepping over the small stream on his way. He looked at the way it cut across the corner of the enclosure, disappearing under the walls, and wondered again if it ran all the way through.

The roots tasted just as bad in the daylight, and he only forced it down with memories of that blessed relief from the burn in his back. It hadn't really kicked in yet by the time he leaned against the wall adjoining Chris.

"Hello, hello," he called softly. He was starting to feel like the town crier back home must have, rousing everyone with the news that he was now awake. "Chris?"

For a long while, it was like there was no one there. He had to call twice more before Chris finally came to the wall and answered back.

"Shhh," he said, which was just *rich* coming from him. Nick almost yelled just to spite him. Almost. "I'm not alone here now."

Nick staggered back so quickly he almost fell. Were they there with Chris? Had he been shouting that morning, and Nick had slept through it? No, that couldn't be right, Chris wouldn't be talking to him now...

"What do you mean?" He finally hissed back. "Who's there with you?"

"He hasn't told me his name yet," said Chris, his voice softer than Nick had ever heard it, in all the time he'd been there. "He hasn't said much of anything. At least he's not a screamer, though. I gave him some of that poison root and at least he's stopped clawing at his face now. He's just kind of staring at the sun."

"Oh, that's not good for your eyes," Nick said without thinking, then smacked himself in the head. "Well, it probably wasn't before. Is he...he's got eyes like you, huh? At least you know about the roots." He leaned against the wall again, sighed. "How many of us ARE there, Chris? When do they stop bringing people in?" He imagined Chris, realizing there was another person in his courtyard. He imagined waking up in agony and finding CHRIS there. He couldn't figure out who he felt worse for.

"I don't know when the bastards will stop," said Chris. "I'd kill 'em all if I could, you know." He said it so matter-of-factly that Nick believe him, believed it was more than bluster. "And if I ever get a chance, I will. The new guy, he's ... as okay as he can be, I think. Maybe I can get him talking or something, figure out what they've saddled me with. He's no Lance, that's for sure."

"What do you mean by that?" Nick asked suspiciously. He didn't think Chris had any business talking bad about Lance. "You could try sticking his head in the stream. JC said that when he did it, he couldn't feel his hair any more. I don't know if it'll work, but it's worth a try. Does he even look at you, or know you're there? He's awfully quiet."

"He knows I'm here, he took the bits of root from me. I think he understands that I don't want to hurt him, unlike those bastards that did this to him." Chris's voice was finally rising a little again. The familiarity of that was almost a comfort. "I couldn't see very well the first couple of days either. He's not doing anything but breathing. It's really creepy."

"Poor guy," Nick breathed. Even with the pain in his back, he'd always been able to see. He couldn't imagine how terrifying it must have been to have woken up unable to see. "You should talk to him a lot, Chris. Tell him that you're a friend and all, and where he is, and stuff, because I bet he's really scared. I wish *I'd* had someone telling me that stuff when I first got here. And Chris? Don't shout at him. You'll scare him worse and bring them, and JC's peeking over his other wall, so he needs them to stay away."

"I haven't shouted at him!" snapped Chris. "Have you heard me shouting? No. Of course not. I'm crazy, not stupid. I was with him right up until you called me to the wall. Don't know if he was really listening to me, he didn't react much, but at least there's no more clawing. The clawing was the worst." Nick could just imagine. It was hard enough watching Lance bleed; he couldn't imagine someone clawing at their eyes. "So who's on the other side of JC, then?"

"Dunno," Nick shrugged. "He was all excited about finding out, though. Apparently it's either a very quiet person, like I was, or someone waiting with an axe. At least according to JC. Honestly, I think he might be crazier than you, if that makes you feel better." A pointed silence from the other side of the wall. "Well, who's on the other side of YOU?"

"The crazy bugger who sings all the time," said Chris immediately. "And thank the gods he's shut up this morning because if anything would make the new guy freak out, that would be it." Nick thought the shouting and the crying would do it just as well, but thankfully those didn't seem to be as much of a concern anymore. Though he didn't kid himself that they wouldn't pop up again at any moment.

"Hm. Where's the laughing guy, then?" Nick turned in a slow circle, trying to pinpoint where he remembered the sound coming from, trying to make a map in his head of where people were. "I don't know, the singing's okay. Definitely better than the shouting anyway, especially since the guy isn't always singing bad words and then getting shocked." He tried not to sound too reproving, but really, all that yelling had about driven him insane. "I keep trying to figure out how many of us there are, but I don't know how many are quiet."

"How do you know a few good curse words wouldn't make him feel right at home?" Chris challenged him. Well, how did he know a little *singing* wouldn't make him feel right at home? "We'll find out how many there are. This place, it's laid out in a ring, I think, around that tower in the middle, the one *they* stay in. So sooner or later, if we keep going around, we're gonna come right back to the beginning again. You made any progress on making some kind of hill on *your* side of the wall?"

"Uh, no," Nick confessed, looking around his safe little courtyard, which suddenly felt quite homey. "Lance can't really climb yet; he shouldn't be moving at ALL, but he insisted last night. Even with the roots, he bleeds, so I think you guys are gonna have to keep coming to us, at least until we can get out. If it's like a ring-" he thought about that a moment, and it did make sense- "Then we need to get over the OUTSIDE wall to get away, right? Only." He glanced over. The outer wall facing the tower was three times the height of the others.

"Any of these plants good for making a rope?" asked Chris, the snorted dubiously. "You should ask Lance, he seems to know these things. Good to know the outlanders are good for something. Is he doing better today? Is he there with you? Maybe he should be taking to my new guy, might get some response out of him."

"He's still sleeping," Nick said softly, smiling a little. "I've actually gotta go check on him soon, make sure he's not just laying there hurting, which is how I remember my first couple days, when I can remember them at all. He's the first outlander I've ever met, you know? And he knows all KINDS of stuff, he's the one who wanted to talk to you and JC. He's good for a lot of things."

"Yeah, he seems to be," muttered Chris, and suddenly there was a sharp cry in the background. "Oh bugger all! He's sitting up and scratching. I've got to go, Nick. You work on your things; I'll be back later. Ask Lance about the rope things, who knows. I'm gonna go dunk this guy's face in the stream."

"Good luck," Nick called, not expecting or getting a response, and he made his way back to the room, collecting a few more roots on his way. They were running short on yellow flowers; he resolved to save the rest for Lance.

The room was dim, and he blinked, waiting a few minutes to adjust from the bright sunlight outside. Lance had his head turned away, and Nick couldn't tell if he was sleeping or not. His wings were tucked neatly against his back, and they already looked bigger than they had the day before. "Lance?" he whispered, not wanting to wake him if he was still sleeping.

Lance mumbled something, and for all Nick knew he was talking in his sleep. He certainly didn't move at all, but that didn't necessarily mean anything. But then he mumbled again, and it was obvious he was actually trying to say something to him, but it was getting lost in the pillow. Gently Nick shifted him on his side a little, careful of his wings and his back. "Put the jug in the fire," he said, very clearly.

"What? Why?" Nick's brow furrowed in confusion, and he pushed a stray lock of light brown hair off of Lance's forehead. "I like the jug, it's the only thing we have that holds water. Why do you want to burn it up?" It worried him that Lance's eyes weren't open, that he wasn't moving even a little bit.

"No," said Lance. "No. The jug won't burn; put it in the fire." Which didn't make any more sense than the first time, to Nick. Lance started to roll over onto his back -- not thinking, just like Nick had done so many times -- and cried out and fell back on his stomach again.

"Shh, shh," Nick tried to soothe him, stroking his hair again. "Just lie still, it'll pass. I'm going to go put the jug in the fire, see? Just like you want. It's going in the fire." He reached carefully into the flames, settling the jug as near as he could without burning himself. "Good thing it's empty," he grumbled to himself as he settled back by Lance. "If it tipped we'd have no fire at all."

Lance groaned. "No," he said, and started pulling himself into a sitting position, obviously awake now. Nick had to help him get all the way up. "No, not like that. We can use the jug to boil water. To make tea? Remember? So we won't have to eat the root anymore. I dreamed about it, about blackenroot. I guess it wore off during the night. "

"Oh. OH!" Nick flushed, feeling stupid, and grabbed the jug back, rushing outside to fill it and then setting it back where it had been. "Right, of course, sorry. I brought more roots inside, see? From before, when I talked to JC and Chris. We're starting to run out of flowers, though, so use it sparingly. We'll have to find more soon, with you and Chris's new company needing it so often..."

"It grows fast," Lance promised him. "As long as there's still some in the ground, it'll make new shoots in a day or two. And it doesn't take as much when you make it into tea as when you eat it raw. And ... Chris's new company? Oh, Nick, did we find someone else, beyond his walls?"

"No," Nick shook his head sadly. "Chris had a new one put in with him, just like you with me. He's got the same eyes. Chris says he won't talk, just...claws at his face. He's taking care of him, though. But JC's going to peek over his wall...oh my goodness!" He jumped to his feet. "I bet he finished piling his rocks an age ago! I hope he's not crying again."

"Oh!" said Lance, and managed to look both horrified and excited at once. "Oh, how horrible, to have those eyes. But how wonderful, about JC. I'll be okay, Nick, I'll make the tea; you go see what JC's found before he starts to cry. I don't want to hear him ever cry again. It's terrible."

"Uh-uh." Nick put a firm hand on Lance's shoulder, pressing him back to the bed. "You will rest today even if I have to sit on you to make sure. JC will be fine for a few more minutes, and his silent neighbor doesn't even know that he's missing anything yet. I'll make the tea and you should eat, too." He noticed that food had been left in the night, as usual, and handed Lance the fruit and bread and cheese. "Now tell me how to make this strange tea. I can't believe it will taste any better than the roots."

"It will if we use some of the fruit in it," said Lance, actually sounding cheerful for a moment. He wasn't moving his body at all; he must've found a comfortable position for it. "It would be better if we could take the skin off the root, but we can't. You'll need to break it into as small of pieces as you can. you'll only need a half of one of the roots, to make the tea. And pick whatever fruit you like bet, and use a bit of that, too. Take the water off the fire when it boils, and let it sit for a few minutes."

"Okay." Nick stuck his tongue out a little in concentration as he started breaking the root apart carefully. "You should pick the fruit, since the tea is for you. I ate a root already this morning, I don't need any more. JC asked about you, when I talked to him...he was afraid something had happened to us, because we were so quiet!" He grinned up at Lance, amused that after weeks of long silence, the others were getting used to sounds from him again.

"As long as he didn't think you were dead again," said Lance with a little smile. "The orange one, that looks a little bit like a peach, only not fuzzy? Let's try that one. I've never had it before, but it looks good." He munched on a small piece of cheese again as he talked, and Nick could practically see his energy increasing. "I'm going to need to move around a little today; there are some plants that help the body heal. Some of them may be growing here; I haven't had a chance to look."

"It's not exactly a garden, you know," Nick warned, though Lance had obviously had time to see that himself. "There's weeds, and more weeds, and trees, mostly. I still think you should stay still today. Or possibly go lay quietly in the sun; that always makes me feel better." He pulled the jug carefully away from the flames, and crumbled the root and small pieces of the soft fruit into the boiling water. "Perhaps JC will come visit, and keep you entertained."

"If I can find something to help, then I should," insisted Lance. Maybe tying him down wasn't such a far-fetched prospect, if Nick actually wanted him to heal. "It's not like I'm going to be running around, Nick. I can't. I can barely walk. That doesn't mean I shouldn't crawl along the streambank and look at what's growing wild here." Well, actually, it meant exactly that. Nick just wasn't sure he'd be able to enforce it. "If you just leave the jug near me, you can do what you need to do now."

"You're going to be difficult, I can tell," Nick observed, sitting back on his heels and staring at Lance as severely as he could manage. "No crawling, gods, that'll put even more strain on your shoulders. No racing around talking to Chris and JC, even if terribly exciting things happen. Lance," he reached out and touched Lance's hand with his own. "We must get out of here. If you don't heal, you won't be able to escape. Today, you should sit in the sun, and nap, and eat, and drink tea, and that's all."

"And look for something that might make me -- and everyone -- heal faster," added Lance, meeting Nick's gaze evenly. "I was right about the blackenroot, you know I was. I can be more help. I won't do anything else, not even if you all start shouting excitedly. I know enough to know what my body can and can't do, Nick."

"Look for things you can see from where you're sitting," Nick insisted stubbornly. "You can sit by the stream so you can bathe your back when it hurts. You've already helped more than anyone, you need to take care of yourself now. Just think what your mother would say." He pushed the jug closer to Lance, suggestively. "If you drink your tea, you can come outside where you can hear JC squeaking about going over the wall."

"Just remember *you're* not my mother," said Lance, taking the jug and taking a tentative sip right out of it. "Oh wow, that's *so* much better," he said, and licked his lips. "This is livable. Just give me a minute here." He set the jug down, with a lot of liquid still in it. Enough for more than one someone else.

"Drink a full dose," Nick warned, rising to his feet. "If you faint and fall over, you could tear your wings. And your mother's not here, is she? So someone has to look after you, since you won't yourself." He stretched again, and peered out the open door, wondering about the others, before looking back at Lance. He had to smile; Lance's eyes were already brighter, he was sitting up straight and his hands had relaxed out of their pained clench. "I can't believe those roots were sitting there all along," he sighed, remembering sleepless nights and pain filled days.

"That was a full dose," insisted Lance. "You made enough for the others, too. And I don't know how you did it, without any kind of medicine. There's medicine in all kinds of living things; you just need to know where to look. The people keeping us here, they probably didn't know what the root did either. Or it probably wouldn't have been growing here. Are you ready to go back outside now?"

"Absolutely." Nick spent as little time as possible inside the small room, preferring even the illusion of freedom that open air gave him. He held a hand out to Lance, and gave those slim fingers a little squeeze before helping him stand, steadying him against the pull of the wings. "Walk slowly," he warned, leading Lance outside, strangely unwilling to let go of him. "And just to the streambank." Lance's face was tense, but it seemed more in concentration than in pain, though he stepped carefully after Nick and paused often to rest.

"I'm okay," he insisted. "I'm better every time I breathe, I promise you." Nick wondered what was going on inside Lance's head, though. He was beginning to think that what was going on on the inside and what was going on on the outside were two very different things. "I won't stray from the streambank."

Nick thought that he probably would, the first moment he had a chance, but his attention was suddenly caught by a scraping sound on JC's side of the wall and low murmurs. Two sets of low murmurs, in fact.

"Stay here," he told Lance, worried, giving him a pleading look. "Sit, rest, please don't start the bleeding again. I have to go check on JC, he wasn't supposed to do anything before he let me know, but I hear voices..." He hurried to the wall, and leaned as close to it as he could. The murmurs and sounds of stone against stone were louder now, but he couldn't make out words.

"JC? Are you there? I'm sorry I took so long, but I was making Lance tea..."

"Sorry," he said, and didn't sound all that apologetic. "I couldn't wait for you. I'm not really good at following instructions, actually. But it was okay, he didn't have an axe or anything. Even though I still think that it would be really useful if one of us did. Just hang on a second, we're almost ready to come over."

Nick gaped at the wall, stunned wordless. Instructions...useful...axe...Nick resolved then and there that he was just not going to make any more suggestions. Lance and Chris and JC clearly had everything under control.

"Okay," he finally said. "I'll get out of the way on this side." He stepped back to Lance, who, miraculously, hadn't moved from his spot by the stream. "They're coming over," he informed Lance, who couldn't have missed JC's announcement anyway, and shook his head.

"Who are 'they'?" asked Lance, which of course was the one -- well, not the one, one of many, really -- question that Nick couldn't answer. "Who did he find? Are they okay, do you think? You'll have to go back and get some tea for them. Tell JC it's not the most horrible thing ever. And then bring them here, okay?"

"Okay," came JC's voice. "Look out below."

"Yeah, he's gonna drop," came another voice, with a slightly rougher edge to it. "He just about dropped right on my head last time."

"Okay," Nick agreed quietly to Lance's requests, watching the wall for signs of their visitors.

JC's hair, dimmed in the sunlight but no less dramatic for that, popped up over the wall, followed by the rest of him as he swung easily over the wall and just let go, falling bonelessly down to the grass and rolling once before he jumped to his feet. "I'm down, I'm fine, it's good," he said breathlessly, turning back to look up the wall. "Come on, I told you, they're fine. Really nice."

Nick wasn't entirely sure that he wanted to be defined as 'really nice,' but he was too busy rushing forward to stamp out the small grass fires JC had started with his somersault to object.

"If they weren't nice I'd just kick their asses," came the other man's voice before he, too, popped up over the wall.

"Oh, be nice," said JC, but Nick was too busy staring at the newcomer to pay much attention to him. He was like nothing Nick had ever seen before. His skin looked like it was glowing from the inside, and designs were painted all over his body, symbols Nick didn't recognize. He had no idea what to make of it until he heard Lance gasp from close behind him.

"The Painted Man," he said, sounding awed. "I'd heard stories, back home, but ... oh, Nick. Everything you thought, about what they're doing with us ... It all must be true, all of it."

Nick had never heard of such a person, but he was staring captivated at the way the designs almost seemed to move over that glowing skin.

The man was lean and small and moved like a cat, swinging over the wall and dropping down into an easy crouch, watching them all with huge, wary dark eyes. "The Painted Man?" Nick murmured, hoping Lance would elaborate.

"This is AJ," JC said happily, waving a hand at the newcomer, either oblivious to or ignoring the tension in the courtyard. "He almost beat me up after I fell on him--it was an accident, I was just peeking only I slipped--but then I convinced him not to. See?" He turned to AJ. "I told you they had wings."

"Well I'll be damned," said AJ, staring at Nick as much as Nick was staring back at him. "I know you told me, but I didn't imagine it quite like that."

"There are stories," said Lance, right up behind Nick now and dammit, he was supposed to have stayed at the stream. But Nick supposed, in this case, he probably would have done the exact same thing. "Where I come from, there are stories about the Painted Man. It's said he carries the wisdom of the world on his skin, that he knows all. My people wouldn't believe the angels but this, Nick, *this* they might believe. Oh, no."

"I'll be the first to admit I'm smarter than your average genius, but even I can't claim to know all," AJ scoffed, finally straightening up and stretching a little. Nick, fascinated, reached to touch the snake that seemed to coil around AJ's arm-and scurried back, wings flaring wide in shock, when his hand was smacked away.

"Ah ah ah." AJ's eyes widened at the sight of his extended wings, but he still shook his finger at Nick. "Don't touch, it's hot. Not that I'd want people pawing on me anyway, but you'll get scorches on those pretty little fingers."

"Except me, I can," JC said, with a trace of smugness. "And he can touch my hair, too, just like Chris."

"But Nick can touch me," said Lance softly, "and that has to be enough." He still seemed enraptured by AJ, like a creature from the stories he'd heard as a child had come to life. "I have ... I made tea. Blackenroot and peach-thing tea. If anyone needs any. I can ... I'll go get that."

"Oh no you don't," said JC firmly, before Nick even could. "I *know* you're supposed to be resting, Nick told me. You should be sitting down."

"Oh shit, kid, you're bleeding," said AJ. "Are you injured?"

"Something like that," said Lance, and slowly turned around so AJ could see the extent of the damage to his back, where through methods Nick knew he'd never understand, they'd inserted the living, growing wings.

"Motherfuck," he exclaimed softly, whistling under his breath and leaning close for a better look. "That must hurt like a sonofabitch. I wonder how they did that." He cut his eyes assessingly at Nick, who stepped to Lance's side, overwhelmed. Too many new people, too many new changes, he wasn't sure he could keep up and nothing was going as he'd expected it to. The quiet familiar hiding place inside his head seemed more and more appealing.

"Lance should rest," he echoed JC softly. "We have tea that helps the pain, I'll go get it. Lance, sit. Please? I told you the bleeding would start again...just rest and talk to your painted man." He headed for the room hurriedly, eager to be helpful.

When he got back, JC had actually managed to get Lance to sit down again, and they'd all gathered by the river. "Nick has a theory," Lance was saying. "About what they're doing to us, and it makes so much sense. You should get him to tell it to you."

"I don't know how doing *this* to someone -- " And AJ gestured to his own body, then to everyone else. " -- could possibly make any sense."

"Sense to them, anyway," Lance corrected himself.

Nick held the jug protectively in his hands, before moving slowly towards AJ. "Drink some," he said quietly, handing it over. "It's medicine, it stops the hurting for a while. When I was as new as Lance, I couldn't walk at all. The tea helps him."

AJ took the jug and peered at the contents skeptically. "Is this the stuff that JC calls poison? Because if so, I'm not sure I want to try it." He took a sip, though, carefully, and made a little face at the taste. "Bleh. Bitter. So enlighten us, big guy. What's the grand theory?"

"Lance can say," Nick answered, intimidated. "He's the one who knows about the Painted Man and all. He didn't think it could be right until he saw you, anyway..."

"But it's your theory," said Lance, looking up at him, but he didn't push. "JC, try the tea. It's much better than the raw root. There's ... what was that fruit, Nick? And it works just as well."

"So what's this theory, then?" asked AJ again, taking another, larger, sip before handing the jug over. "Come on, out with it."

"Nick said he thought it had to do with the war," said Lance. "He thinks they're making us look like angels -- what his, your, people think of as angels -- so that if the people see us, they'll think your gods are on their side. And so they'll support them. And ... and I told him that many of my people had come to this country in recent years, and the sight of these angels wouldn't convince them of anything. But ... but the sight of the Painted Man might."

"But no one will believe we're *truly* angels," JC said, sounding very confused even as he sipped the tea. "Will they? I mean. We're just people, really. We don't even sound like angels, when we talk." He took a longer drink, then turned a beaming smile on Lance. "What a clever idea, to put goldfruit in the tea! I can hardly taste the poison roots at all."

"We can still talk...for the moment," AJ said grimly, and Nick shivered. "They've taken my skin, your hair, given you wings. I don't doubt that they could make us mute if they chose. Or lock us away forever, only to be seen from a distance. This idea of yours makes sense, Lance, as nasty as it is to admit. Though I've never heard of this Painted Man either."

Nick shivered, and moved closer to Lance. "I don't want to lose my voice," he murmured quietly.

"We'll be out of here long before they have a chance to do anything else to us, ever again," said Lance firmly. "Because that's exactly what they would do -- keep us silent and locked up forever. They've already done this much; I don't think they would hesitate to do more if they thought it would help them."

As Lance gently put his arm around Nick, JC touched his throat with a look of alarm on his face. "How are we going to do this, then?" he asked.

"Whoa, we're getting out of here?" said AJ. "That's fantastic." Nick wondered what was going on in *his* head, that he had been so silent for so long, too. Because much luck Nick, he didn't seem so silent now.

"We are," Nick nodded. "I talked to Chris this morning--he's over our other wall, AJ--and he thinks this place is built like a ring, lots of little courtyards around the big tower. But there's no way of knowing how many, or how many people are in each. Oh!" He'd almost forgotten. "They put another in with Chris today. With eyes just like his." He sighed, and leaned closer to Lance's comforting warmth.

"But..." JC was looking back and forth between them all, eyes huge in his narrow face. "We have nowhere to go. And what's to stop them from just taking more and more people away...stealing them...and what if we escape just before they bring more in, they'll be trapped here then." he seemed on the brink of tears again.

"There's a limited number of boys in the world as pretty as you and the angels, Torch," AJ advised him wryly. "They're bound to run out sooner or later. This Chris fellow seems like he had a working brain, where's he hiding?"

"Yeah, we need to get Chris here, too," insisted JC. "Chris and ... and the new guy. So we can tell them what the plan is so far."

"There *is* no plan so far," said AJ, "other than 'get out of here' which is pretty much common sense, don't you think? I say we kill them all, on our way out. Rock to the head, bam, they're out. Or hell, we can just set them on fire, bet they never thought about *that*."

"I'm not setting anyone on fire," said JC, his eyes wide and his lip quivering. No, no crying, Nick never wanted to see or hear anyone cry again. Not JC, not him.

"Hell, *I* could probably set someone on fire if I hung on long enough," said AJ.

"What about the stream," Nick offered diffidently, not wanting to see JC cry and needing to distract AJ, who was scaring JC, even if he was kind of refreshingly bloodthirsty about the whole thing. "It runs through all the courtyards that we know of so far," he went on hastily, as everyone stared at him. "I don't know if it means anything, but all that water has to come from somewhere, and it has to go somewhere else. Chris might want to set people on fire with you, but the rest of us would probably just get in the way if we tried to fight our way out."

"We should kill 'em so they don't do this anymore, though," said AJ matter-of-factly. "You don't have to help. I bet this Chris guy and I can take care of it." Nick figured that if he had to, he could do it, but there had to be another way. "It's okay, I've done it before." That wasn't exactly reassuring.

"I can check the stream," said JC. "I don't think I'll mind being underwater so much. And someone should check out the other wall, see how hard it really would be, to get out over it. And, um, the door, too, we should check the door out." Nick had already checked the door out pretty thoroughly; he bet they all had. "And ... I guess ... AJ can see what can be used as a weapon, if it came to that."

"My wings get really heavy in water," Nick told JC apologetically. "I think all we've got are branches and rocks that might even be a little bit like weapons, too, and we've got no idea how many of them there are, here. I can't see their faces, when they come to talk to me."

"They come to talk to you?" AJ raised his eyebrows. "I haven't seen a soul since I was dropped in this place. 'Course, I told them I'd rip out their kidneys when they were taking me, that might have something to do with it." JC just stared at AJ, wide-eyed.

"Lance?" Nick turned to him. The bleeding had stopped once Lance sat down and rested, but he was worryingly quiet and more and more of his weight was leaning on Nick. "What do you think?"

"I think ... sure, you guys do that," said Lance. "I'm just gonna lie down I think ... just for a little while. Just until Chris gets here." Nick didn't like the sound of that at all, but he approved of Lance's idea to lie down and helped him settle onto his stomach.

"I think," said AJ, "that it's high time I met this Chris guy. That way?" He pointed at the opposite wall, then started towards it without an answer.

JC was already wading into the stream. "I'll be back when I find something," he promised.

"Okay. Be careful, JC. And AJ? Don't worry if Chris shouts, it's just his way." Ignoring AJ's dismissive snort and JC's acknowledging wave, Nick settled cross-legged by Lance's shoulder, reaching out to touch him. Lance sighed when he started rubbing the nape of his neck gently, keeping his touch as light and careful as he could. "Chris and AJ," Nick murmured, wanting to keep Lance distracted from whatever was hurting him. "Can you imagine the two of them together? It'll be like when my father's two prize bulls got into the same paddock. It's a good thing they won't be able to set each *other* on fire. I don't think."

"Either that, or they'll be a force to be reckoned with," murmured Lance. "I just don't want to have to watch them kill anyone. I'd just rather not know. My mother, she said her life path was to heal people, not to harm them, but that sometimes both things were necessary." He squirmed uncomfortably under Nick's hand. "My back, it *itches*, it itches so much."

"It's healing," Nick soothed, sliding his hand carefully down Lance's shoulder, scratching very lightly at the red scars that spidered out from his wings. "It itches 'cause it's getting better, I remember that much from breaking my leg when I was little. I don't want to watch them kill anyone either, but...but if we have to, I think I could do it." He remembered the cold, impersonal hands on him, the shocks of pain, Lance's bleeding back, and thought privately that he was *sure* he could do it.

"I know why it itches," said Lance with a little smile, and of course he did, with a mother like his. "It's just driving me nuts. At least it's better than the pain. Are they gone? JC and AJ, are they off doing their things?" Nick nodded at him and rubbed his neck again. "Then there's nothing to do but wait for them to come back. Can you tell me ... about you as a kid? It might give me something to think about other than the ITCH."

"I was a very boring child," Nick warned. "I was born, I played around a lot, I grew really fast, and then I came here. That's pretty much it. The only interesting parts were when I broke bones or fell in the river trying to tickle fish, and the hard times during the war when we all had to eat whatever we could find." He kept scratching lightly, liking the way Lance squirmed appreciatively. "I've got three sisters and a brother, though, which is nice. And a fiancée, which isn't." He sighed a little. "I know she's pretty and all, and all the other boys were chasing her, but I just wasn't interested for some reason. She kept trying to kiss me, and it was just...ugh. I'm pretty sure that means she's not the right girl for me."

"Yeah," said Lance, his voice sounding calmer already. "I don't have a girl either; don't think I ever will. Not my thing. It sounds like you have a nice family, except for the arranged marriage. Which sounds pretty awful, if you ask me. Why do your people do that?"

"What d'you mean, you'll never have a girl?" Nick rubbed the peak of Lance's shoulder comfortingly. "Someone as beautiful as you, there's bound to be a girl out there who loves wings. Maybe you could look in birdwatching societies or something. Arranged marriages aren't always awful, you know. They can work out really well, and mostly they help the community. And my father and mother thought it was high time I settled down and started taking responsibilities on." He sighed. "They were probably right. If I'd managed to have any interest in a girl before they settled on a match, they would have been happy for me. They're not monsters or anything."

"I never said they were," said Lance. "I just don't understand your customs here, they're so strange to me. I can't imagine having to be married to someone. I don't really like girls. I mean ... I *like* them, they're fun and smart and stuff. But. You know. I don't *like* them." He sounded nervous as he said it, and Nick could imagine why. "My mother told me that's something you don't talk about, in your land. I don't understand that, either."

"You don't like..." it took a moment for it to sink in, and when it did, Nick was proud of himself for not flinching away. "You're a boylover?" He whispered, horrified, as if the trees and stream could hear and judge. "But...but you're so wise, and smart, and beautiful...Lance...you don't seem like someone who would steal young boys away from their families for slavery and torture! Tell me you don't..." He was pleading now, praying that he'd misinterpreted what Lance had said.

"Of course not," snapped Lance, sounding horrified. "Who taught you those awful things? This land is so strange! It's normal for men to love men, just as they would love women if that were their inclination. Steal young boys from their families? What a horrible, terrible idea. What kind of people would think up such a thing and scare their people with it?"

"It's what we were told," Nick answered, leaving off his scratching so his hands could twist together nervously. "It's not normal, it's wrong, surely, they told us stories of boys who had been taken, never to be seen again, the horrible things that happened to them...my uncle told me and my brother to be especially cautious, because we were too pretty, he said. We were like bait for the evil." He looked down at his fingers, pale with tension, his stomach knotted. "But you don't seem evil to me."

"Of course I'm not evil," said Lance. "That's terrible, that they told you those things! And it's wrong ... so wrong. What could be evil about it, between two people who love each other? Or just like each other a lot? Or are attracted to each other? It doesn't make any sense, no sense at all. Do men who like women all steal young girls away from their families and imprison them? No, of course not."

Nick thought about it for a long moment. Lance had been right about so many things already, it was hard to dismiss his words...but in his head, he could still hear his uncle's warning words, frightening as they'd been to his younger self. "That's true," he whispered quietly, finally. "It doesn't sound evil when you talk about it. But...you're sure something in your mind isn't twisted, doesn't make you want to go capture a young boy and keep him locked in your bedchamber? I've never...I never had a chance to ask a real boylover before. Men can truly find other MEN attractive?"

"There's nothing in my mind that makes me want to capture a young boy and do *anything* with him, let alone keep him locked up," snapped Lance, "and I can't believe you just asked me that. I like *men*, Nick, people my own age, not boys. And why on earth would I have to keep someone locked up when -- at least, before we came to this land -- I could just ask and get someone just as easily. It doesn't make any sense, what you've been told. It doesn't make any sense at all. And the only reason I even *told* you was because I thought ... I thought maybe you liked men, too."

Nick scrambled back so quickly he almost fell on his wings, the sharp pain as his hand came down on a long feather making him cry out wordlessly, though he couldn't take his eyes off Lance. His breath felt like it was trapped in his chest, locked there as much by Lance's harsh tone as by the insinuation that he...that he could possibly..."oh gods," he whispered, not making sense even to himself. "Lance, why...no...I can't..." Suddenly he longed desperately for his village, which he'd never left before now, and the comforting familiarity of life as he'd known it. This was too much, to scary, too new and painful, and Nick just wanted to go home.

Lance turned his face away and was silent for a long time, the only sound now Nick's harsh, panicked pants. "You can stop now," he said finally, pushing himself to his knees, then to his feet, and Nick couldn't bring himself to stop him. "Just ... stop, Nick. I'm not asking anything of you. I'm going to go see how things are going with Chris. I'll leave you alone." Slowly and painfully, he started shuffling off toward Chris's wall, where AJ had piled up enough branches and debris to get himself over.

"I want to go home," Nick murmured, staying crouched frozen where he was. "I want to go home. I want to go home." He didn't even notice when the tears started. Lance hated him now. He hated Lance too, a little, for making him think thoughts he'd never allowed himself before. "I WANT TO GO HOME!" The shout came up out of him and couldn't be stopped, and startled JC, just pulling himself out of the stream, so much that he fell back in with a splash. He watched dully as JC scrambled back out to the bank and rushed to his side, the dripping water in no way quenching his fire. Nick wished his wings were big enough that he could wrap himself inside them and disappear forever.

"We all want to go home," said JC after a moment of awkward silence. "It's okay to scream, though. I think it's normal. It was weird, before, you being all quiet about everything." Nick almost wished he'd stayed that way. "Are you okay? Do you need some poison root tea? Where did Lance go?"

"I don't need tea," Nick answered quietly. "Lance is over there, he's going to go over the wall, I think. He'll probably need help." He waved his hand aimlessly in the direction Lance had gone, where he was slowly climbing the rock pile, and stood up, careful not to overbalance. "I'm tired," he told JC blankly. "I'm going to rest." He turned without another word and walked slowly back inside, his head spinning and aching, feeling more alone now than he had before Lance had appeared.

***

Lance's back ached like nothing else as he pulled himself up on top of the wall, then stopped to catch his breath.

"Holy hell, kid, what are you doing?" He recognized Chris's voice; it was kind of nice to hear him shouting again. "You're gonna kill yourself. Hang on, I'm coming to get you." Lance closed his eyes and waited, and moments later he felt Chris's hands on him. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"Came to check on you," said Lance, working with Chris to get himself down off the wall and into Chris's enclosure. It looked a lot more barren than his own. "Tired of not seeing anything. Hey, AJ."

"Lance," JC's anxious voice came drifting over the wall. "Lance, are you okay? What did you do to Nick? Be careful, okay? You really shouldn't be climbing things like that..."

"What's wrong with Nick?" Chris narrowed his eyes at him as Lance stepped unsteadily away from the uncomfortable heat of his presence. "And what the fuck, exactly, were you thinking, coming over here? You're bleeding again, and no wonder. You oughtta be in bed, I thought your mother hen was taking care of that."

"Nick hates me now," said Lance. He wouldn't feel sorry for himself about it, he would just be angry, angry at Nick, angry at his family, angry at this stupid culture that would teach such things. "He wanted me to leave, so I did."

"Liar," said Chris, "Why would Nick hate you?"

"I don't want to talk about it," said Lance. "I just want to ... rest, for a little while. JC ... don't worry. I'm fine. I'm okay. I just needed to be away from there."

"What did you do?" demanded AJ. "Did you do something to him?"

"No!" said Lance. "He's just ... he's stupid, and I hate this place. I hate this whole land."

"O-ho," Chris's lips twisted in a little smirk. "Our gentle little scholar has sharp teeth, I see. Well, keep your secrets if you like, but try to keep your domestic squabbles from interfering in our escape attempt. That includes pitching a fit and making yourself sick." He patted Lance's shoulder and Lance could feel the skin warm there, like he'd been in the sun too long.

"So you hate Nick and Nick hates you?" AJ strolled over, breaking a root into small pieces as he came. "Lovely. Don't blame the land for your lovers' quarrel, though; believe me, those happen just about everywhere."

"We're not!" said Lance, shooting his eyes wide open in shock. The last thing he'd expected these people to do -- people from the same land as Nick -- is act so nonchalant about it. "And I'd suggest you don't even *hint* at that in front of Nick or he'll turn his back on you, too."

AJ looked like he was about to say something else, but Chris slapped a hand over his mouth. "What happened, Lance?" he asked, about as gently as Chris ever got. And really, Lance didn't have much to lose by saying.

"He found out something about me that he hates," he said vaguely, "because this land is stupid and has stupid customer and stupid prejudices. And now he won't even touch me." He didn't have any illusions that they didn't already know what that "something" was, given his earlier reaction.

AJ wriggled free of Chris's hand with a glare that he then turned on Lance. "And because one big dumb cornfed country boy has been spoon-fed fear from the cradle, you think we're all like that?" He snorted at Lance. "I'll grant you, this ain't the most permissive society under the sun, but it's not that bad, either."

"AJ, shut up," Chris suggested shortly. "Lance, that boy dotes on you, I seriously doubt he hates you. He might be terrified out of his mind, but from what I've seen he doesn't look like much of a hater. What, did you just drop the bomb on him and expect him to start dancing a jig? He's probably been taught his whole life that men like...some of us...are one step moved from hellspawned demons."

"Well how was I supposed to know that?" asked Lance. "I thought ... I thought he liked me. I didn't think I was telling him anything he didn't already know, more or less. I didn't expect him to do *that*, tell me that I'm evil and bad and terrible. Kind of." He squeezed his eyes shut and reminded himself not to feel sorry for himself over this. He never felt sorry for himself. "This is a strange land and I don't understand it." "Yeah, obviously," said AJ, rolling his eyes at him. "This isn't some tiny place where everyone believes the same things. It's a big land with many peoples and ... " He dismissed Lance with a wave of his hand. "I don't even know if you're listening to me."

"I am," said Lance, and sighed, and sank to his knees on the ground. He wondered if his wings would ever grow so large that he wouldn't be able to do that anymore.

"Hey," Chris said, sounding kind again. "Don't be too hard on yourself, you couldn't have known. He'll get over it, or he won't, and either way there's not much you can do about it now except be yourself. Nick clearly DOES like you, I've never seen someone more protective. I honestly thought the two of you were together." He frowned a little. "You didn't...he didn't find out about all this because you were trying to get some, did he? Give him some time to get used to the idea of you before you even put the idea of him in his head, or you're looking at a meltdown. Not that I think you're wrong. 'Couldn't find a girl he was interested in', right."

"I've heard that song before," AJ agreed, and finished crumbling the root, stepping over to where Lance noticed, for the first time, a dark-haired figure sitting hunched on a rock, head in his hands. "Here you go, Kevin. Eat up, yum yum." He made a disgusted face at odds with his words.

"I can make some tea," suggested Lance, to avoid dealing with the other issue for a moment. "If you have a water jug, and a fire. Or ... " He flushed. "I guess fire's not much of an issue. The tea is much easier to swallow you know." He swallowed himself, and turned his attention back to Chris again, like he knew he had to. "I wasn't trying to do anything, we were just talking. The way he was saying how he'd never liked any girls ... i just thought he was like me. I didn't think it would be a horrible thing to bring it up, I didn't know ... " Be strong. Be strong. "You aren't going to do the same, are you? You aren't reacting the same way he did."

"Nope," Chris assured him, easing down to a seat on a rock at his side. "That would be more than a little hypocritical, don't you think? Anyway, I think you're probably right about our yellow mother hen, but chances are he doesn't have a clue in the world. Not your fault, man, how could you have known?"

"Like I said, this is a big place," AJ added, feeding Kevin small pieces of the root, though the other man never raised his head. "Cities and countries and whereverthehell we are now, and there are plenty of different kinds of folks spread across it. Probably where there are so many different kinds of US." He frowned as Kevin refused to take another piece. "Yeah, we could use some of that tea, I think."

"You'll have to bring me the jug," said Lance apologetically. It was a new feeling for him, not being able to take care of everything for himself, and he didn't like it much at all. "I'm not sure it would be a good idea to move that far. The jug and some fruit, if you have any left." AJ nodded at him and patted the other man's leg and started toward the room inside. It wouldn't be hard for him to find; all their enclosures were the same shape, if not identical. "Hypocritical?" he said softly when AJ was out of sight. "I ... don't dare ask what I want to ask. Not this time."

Chris snickered. "If you haven't figured it out by now, you don't deserve to have that question answered," he said, grinning. "But you've had a traumatic experience, so I guess you'll get one anyway. Yeah, me. Probably AJ too, though we haven't discussed it...but we're both men of the world, kiddo, no worries we'll try to rip your head off or anything." He paused, and seemed to consider. "I don't think I'd have this particular conversation with that delicate little JC, though. He's got fanatic eyes."

"Anyone who cries that much makes me nervous," AJ agreed, returning with the pitcher in time to hear Chris's last words. "I swear, some days it was all I could do not to start heaving rocks over the wall and hope that one smashed him flat."

"Nick's probably talking to JC right now," said Lance, sighing again, resigned to that particular fate now. "He's probably telling him how awful and corrupt I am. Poisoning him against me. Oh, this is terrible. I ... I really liked him, Chris. This is going to make things so difficult right now, when the thing we need most is to be working together."

"We'll keep Wing-Boy in line," AJ assured him gruffly as he handed over the already-full pitcher. "He's outnumbered, in this place, and he's not a stupid guy. He'll learn fast, the way the world works."

"Just give him some time," Chris said, a little less harshly. "Remember, this IS all new to him, probably. Not only does he have wings, but someone he likes is telling him that things he's believed his entire life are false. That's bound to be a little disorienting. And don't go assuming he's poisoning anyone against you till you find out for sure."

"I'm pretty sure that's what I just said," AJ grumped. "Now...how do we get this water hot? Too bad JC's not here, he could just stick his head in the pitcher."

"Don't you have a fire, inside?" asked Lance. "Nick does. Or, I guess, we do. Of course, one of you can set something in here on fire, that would do the trick, too. Is everything already in here?" He peered into the jug. "Looks like it."

"Yeah, the root, and some brambleberries Chris had left," said AJ. "I figured better those than that lump of cheese."

Lance nodded and stirred it with his fingers. "I'm just going to stay here for a little while, until I'm ready to deal with Nick again. I'll help you with ... what's his name?"

"Kevin," Chris sighed, taking the pitcher back and hauling it inside. Once again, Lance was struck by how utterly normal he seemed, until you got a look at his eyes... "You can try talking to him," he tossed back over his shoulder, "but he hasn't said anything but his name yet. Not that I blame him, freak like AJ all up in his face..."

"You're one to talk," AJ called back to him, and then shook his head at Lance. "Too bad about you and the farm boy, I thought you made a cute couple, with the matching wings and all. Hey, you want me to go talk some sense into him? Tall dark and silent over there can only hold my attention for so long. And have you noticed, even those guys that sing and laugh are quiet today? It's almost creepy how quiet it is."

"Everything about this place is creepy," said Lance, "and I don't know what to do about Nick. I was asking him questions but I don't know anything about him, not really. My mother says that everyone deserves our patience and understanding but ... that's a really hard thing to do sometimes."

"Amen to that, kid," said AJ, putting a hand on his shoulder, just for a second, just long enough for Lance to feel its presence without being burned. In fact, it never did, just warmed, and then settled to a comfortable temperature. Maybe AJ wasn't quite as hot.

"Just remember," Chris's voice made them both jump a little, startled, "if he had a mum like you, he's probably thinking the exact same thing right now, and having the same struggle. Poor country boy. Probably has no idea what's going on in his own head."

Before Lance could answer, a plaintive voice intruded. "Hey guys? I'm all by myself over here, and I don't like it. I reached a gate in the stream, and I couldn't go any further, not without someone to help me get it out. Nick's hiding. Are you still there?"

Lance was silent, looking to the other two to say something. Chris stared back, but finally did. "Yeah, we're all here, JC. One of us will come over in a minute to help you out there. Just hang on and don't go anywhere."

Lance wasn't going to be the one to go back; someone else could. He would stay and help look after Kevin, since he was the only one who really knew how. Though AJ seemed to have taken to it pretty easily. "Poor country boy, yeah," he had to agree. "But he's a cute country boy, huh?"

"First thing I noticed," AJ agreed cheerfully. "Well, after the honkin' great wings, of course. Hard to miss those. I wonder how big they'll get? Do you think you'll be able to fly with them? Nick's already got quite a wingspan on him."

"Nick is also huge," Chris noted dryly, piling a few rocks closer to the wall. "Unless his wings get so big he can't walk with them, I doubt he'll do anything but glide. Though he might be able to get some good lift on jumps." He looked sideways at Lance. "Depends on how well his back heals, as well. Yours too. So don't go doing anything stupid while I'm visiting your homestead, you hear?"

"I won't," Lance assured him. The most strenuous activity he wanted to be participating in right about then was breathing and possibly nodding his head. "I think that maybe Nick will be able to fly. The wings are strong. I don't know if mine are healing as well as his."

"Well, you have to give 'em more than two or three days," said AJ. "Though I can't say I'd mind, if I was you, if I had these stunted, ornamental wings. I can guess those things get a bit unwieldy." Unwieldy was an understatement; Lance could only imagine.

"I've seen Nick let his get in the way a few times already," Chris agreed, nodding. "Though I still think it must be better than the flames. All right, I'm off to see JC. It's a good thing they're used to ignoring us...the way we're scattered all over, it would be impossible to get everyone back where they belong quickly." There was a lift to his step, though, that hadn't been there before, and his shoulders were held confidently. All the activity seemed to be agreeing with him. "I'll look in on Nick while I'm over there," he added as if in afterthought, though he sent a knowing glance at Lance.

Lance just shrugged, though he appreciated the gesture. What Nick had done still stung, so much, and he still didn't understand how he could have ever believed something like that. And to go through his whole life thinking such horrible things about people ... "I don't think they *do* care where we are, as long as we're still inside," said Lance. "I think JC made it a fair way along the stream, maybe even to the outside wall before he hit a gate. They would have blocked them all, if it was important."

"Maybe, maybe not," said AJ, but it was what made sense to Lance. If they didn't want them to move around, they wouldn't be able to, and that was that. That was how it would work if *he* made a prison, anyway. It made sense.

"If they wanted us together, they would have tossed us all into one big room," Chris pointed out, only a little breathless as he reached the top of the rock pile and jumped for the top of the wall. "I think maybe they underestimated us. Though since it did take over a month for any of us to start speaking..." He shrugged, waved, and disappeared over the other side. JC's lightly musical voice could immediately be heard welcoming him excitedly.

"Water," a deep voice croaked, almost as deep as Lance's own, and he and AJ both turned to Kevin. He was looking at them, flames burning brightly in red-rimmed, sore looking eyes. "I need more water, please," he repeated, more urgently.

"I can bring him some water in my hands," said Lance, struggling to his feet again. His body protested vehemently. "You go get the tea from the fire. It only needs to sit a few minutes before we can give him some; it'll go down easier than the roots you were giving him." With something to do, instinct took control again for Lance and he arranged everything that needed to be done in his head. Water, for Kevin to drink, and for his eyes, which AJ with his glowing skin would have a hard time giving to him, and tea for the pain. It was all very precise, and do-able.

And it all derailed completely when he felt hot hands on his shoulders, pressing him back down to his seat. He was too startled to resist, and stared up in shock at AJ's frown.

"You'll sit and rest while I go get the tea, that's what you'll do," AJ contradicted him firmly. "After he's had as much as he can take, you'll drink the rest and I'll bring him water in the pitcher. Don't think I can't see you flinching every time you move, angel-boy. Take a load off, enjoy the view." With a last warning pressure from hands that were just starting to burn, AJ jogged off towards the building, skin almost iridescent in the sunlight.

"Bossy," the hoarse voice said, and when Lance looked over, Kevin looked like he almost might have been smiling.

"Whether you're talking about me or him, you're probably right," said Lance ruefully. If AJ wouldn't let him help with things, he would at least get closer to Kevin. It took some effort, but he managed. "Hi," he said, hoping for but not expecting a response. Not from someone who'd spoken all of two words in his presence so far. "My name is Lance, and they tell me you're called Kevin. Don't be afraid. We'll help you."

Kevin just grunted, and pressed the heels of his hands hard against his eyes, blocking the flames from Lance's view. "Hurts," he muttered.

"Yeah, we know," AJ said, with more sympathy than Lance had expected, as he returned with the tea. "Here, drink this. It's hot as hades, but it probably won't hurt you a bit. Get as much into you as you can, it'll stop the pain." Kevin reached for the pitcher with eager hands, and Lance flinched away from how awful his face looked, scratched from his fingers and red where he'd pushed with his hands. AJ looked at Lance, and smiled a little. "That magic poison root of yours is a lifesaver, Lance."

Kevin didn't even hesitate at the mention of poison; he'd either already heard the story behind it or he just didn't care anymore whether it was or it wasn't. Lance was just glad that it was going down so easily and, unlike everyone else, he wasn't complaining about it.

"We know how much it hurts," said Lance. "They've hurt all of us, but we're looking for a way out of here. It won't be long now, promise."

As if in echo of his words, there was a huge splash and a muffled whoop from across the wall, followed by scrabbling sounds and then Chris JC *flew* across the divide, landing in a graceless heap more or less at Lance's feet. At least he hadn't set anything on fire this time, Lance thought bemusedly, before JC lifted shining eyes to his face.

"Oh, Lance!" He sprang to his feet and danced a little, hands in the air. "We found a way out! And the most beautiful boy in the whole world, and a crazy laughing man with burning hands, and there are others, we're sure of it. Only the way out was before we got to them. Oh! I came over the wall and I could have just swum under, dumb me." His hair almost seemed to echo his excitement, crackling and flaring around his face in defiance of his dripping clothes. "AJ! AJ! We're getting out!"

Lance was pretty sure he'd already met the most beautiful boy in the whole wide world, but he didn't say anything. Besides, the way out was far more exciting. "You did, really?" he said. "You found the way out? And we can all make it?" The excitement almost -- *almost* -- made him forget his pain. "When can we go?"

"When we can all make it," said AJ firmly, though he looked just as excited as Lance felt. "When you're able to go, and Kevin's able to go. Do you really think you could make it right now?"

"Yes," said Lance. Anything else? No. But getting out? You're damn right he could make it.

"No, Lance," JC said, deflating a little, though he was still bouncing on the soles of his feet. "You have to swim VERY far to get to the last gate, and through a tiny tunnel, and there's no air and you have to swim fast. Oh!" His face paled and his hand came up to cover his mouth as he stared at Lance. "You...you, yeah, probably, still. You're small, your wings are small. But Nick..." he trailed off, suddenly standing still. "What about Nick," AJ asked sharply, stepping closer with a glare. "He'll fit, right? Right, JC?"

"Maybe Nick ... will find another way," said JC vaguely, but the spark was disappearing from his eyes.

"No, no, it doesn't work that way," said AJ. "No matter what that selfish prick is acting like, he doesn't get left behind, no one does. We get some of us on the outside and we fight our way in, get the rest out. I told you I'm willing to kill people and I stand by that. We'll do this."

"It's all academic right now anyway." Kevin's rough voice startled them all, especially JC, who hadn't even noticed him before. "I can't walk OR fight, and neither can the wing boy there. Left behind or not, the people who can get out should go while they can." His burning, unnerving eyes fixed on AJ. "You've got a lovely sentiment there, but it's hardly practical. There are at least fifty men in that tower, all working to keep us here and make more. I heard them talking...as soon as this last batch is healthy enough, we're all being moved. To somewhere more secure, and much more public."

Lance felt himself grow cold, which in the presence of so many heated bodies was quite an accomplishment. What they'd once suspected was now all but confirmed. "What else did you hear?" he found himself asking. "How many in the 'newest batch'? Do you know how many of us there are? How long before they conside us to be healthy enough?"

"Enough, Lance," AJ interrupted him. "It's obviously not going to be today, and you need to rest. You both need to rest. JC ... go get Nick, and tell him to stop being such a damn pussy. We all need to be talking about this."

JC's eyes widened, and he nodded immediately, scrambling back up the rocks towards the other side. "I'm not gonna call him a damn pussy, though," he informed them solemnly from the top of the wall. "He's bigger than me." They heard him calling for Chris as soon as he'd disappeared, and AJ turned back to both of them.

"Now you, Mr. Sudden Font of Information, and you, Mr. Give Me All Details Immediately, need to relax. Don't get all overexcited. We'll work something out, but let's have all of our fucked-up little family present before people start making plans."

Kevin chuckled, the sound raw and humorless. "Bossy," he repeated to Lance.

Lance nodded at him and even smiled. "JC mentioned meeting two more people; we should have told him to get them, too. Get the *whole* family together, and see where we stand. *Do* you know how many of us there are, Kevin?"

"You're clearly not getting me here," said AJ, "and you didn't drink any damn tea. Now, Lance. I mean it." It wasn't like Lance was reluctant to drink it, he'd just forgotten in the heat of the moment. "Stubborn bastard. This is why I need Chris here, to help keep you in line."

"Taking my name in vain again, AJ?" Chris peered at them over the wall, before glancing back at something they couldn't see. "Come ON, Nick. JC, push him, please?" There was a yelp and some shuffling, and Chris winced. "Mind the wings," he offered, clearly trying to be helpful. "Don't singe him. Shit." He disappeared again, and there was a clatter and another yelp.

"I can't tell you how much confidence in your ability to escape this inspires in me," Kevin told AJ, who was still blinking at the place where Chris used to be.

"Shut up," snapped AJ, looking way more amused than he sounded. "We've come a long way in the last day. Don't underestimate the will to survive."

"I'm sorry there are problems with Nick," offered Lance. He wished there were more useful plants around, maybe something to relax the muscles, but blackenroot was all there was. At least there was that. "I shouldn't have said anything."

"Not your fault," said AJ. "He's the brat with the problem, and believe me, we'll knock it right out of him if we have to. In the meantime, stop thinking about it so much and use that genius brain of yours to think up a way for us all to get out."

Lance nodded grimly; though he wanted to protest the 'genius brain' comment he was pretty sure it wouldn't do any good. Lance's mother had told him to pick his battles, and in the grand scheme of things, he figured that one was pretty small. He even drank the tea.

"OW!" Nick's blond head popped up over the wall, face red and strained and miserable, his hands white-knuckled on the edge. Then suddenly his eyes went wide, and a heave from somewhere shot him over the edge even as he grasped hopelessly for a handhold. AJ bolted for the wall--Lance had no idea what he was thinking he could do--but Nick's wings flared open, catching the air, and even with his cry of pain, it was incredible to see. Nick was floating. Floating very quickly, and when he hit the ground he made an audible *thud* and lay there whimpering.

"Oops." Chris and JC, clearly frantic, leaped down the rock pile, hurrying to Nick's side, ignoring the stares of the others.

"HUGE confidence," Kevin repeated dryly. "At least we know the wings work."

Lance was still staring at Nick's prone body, the sight of him floating through the air burned into his brain. Would that be him, too, one day? Nick looked magnificent. "Is this all of us, then?" he asked, clearing his throat and sitting up awkwardly. They were already helping Nick to his feet and he looked all right. And there was some tea left for him; it was cold, but still useful.

"You'll want to work on that landing," said AJ dryly, once it was clear that Nick was more or less okay. "You'll never win the judges over with that one."

"That's not funny," hissed Lance, elbowing him, but clearly *AJ* thought it was.

Nick hunched his head down between his shoulders, face still scarlet, pulling away from AJ and Chris like their touch burned him. Lance was almost startled to remember that it probably did. "So what's so important that I HAD to come here?" he asked sullenly, not looking away from the ground.

"Oh, lighten up, brat," Chris said impatiently, rolling his eyes at Lance. "So you fell. So you were an ass and you feel miserable. Get over it, and quit whining like a bitch." Nick's eyes snapped to him, shocked and angry, and even Lance caught his breath. JC was fluttering anxiously nearby.

"Whoa." Kevin looked truly interested for the first time since Nick had seen him. "I'll put ten on the angel kicking the little guy's ass."

"I think Chris probably fights dirty," said Lance, staring at them both warily. "And I think maybe Nick's never really had to fight anyone for real before. He's big, but he's stupid."

"He's not stupid," AJ corrected him impatiently, backing away to his side. "He's a country boy."

"*I'm* a country boy and I don't have irrational prejudices about people," countered Lance.

"I bet you do," said AJ, "and we just haven't discovered them yet. For now, just let it go, Lance. Just let it go. We have more important things to worry about."

Nick flinched at Lance's words, and seemed to shrink, stepping back away from Chris and reaching behind himself to touch his back. Lance wondered what it must have felt like, his wings bearing weight for the first time, and shuddered a little at the thought.

"Right," Chris said brightly, like he hadn't just been about to trade blows with someone who looked twice his size. "The gang's all here, hooray, I can see this is a big important meeting of some kind. Who's running it?"

"Not me," JC said quickly, shaking his bright mane. "I don't know anything."

"Not me," Nick added, staring at the ground and gnawing his lip. "I'm stupid."

"Clearly," AJ sighed. "Well, JC and Chris found a way out that most of us can take. Kevin knows more about what's going on than the rest of us. Let's start there and move forward, hm? Before I snap and start kicking some ass myself."

"JC also found more people," Lance reminded him, watching Nick but hoping it wasn't obvious that he was watching Nick. He couldn't read what he was thinking, and he hated that. He wanted to know everything. "But that's the main thing. They found a way out ... for some of us. Maybe JC or Chris should talk about that."

"Good call," said AJ, patting his shoulder. "Let's start there."

Lance caught Nick's eye for a second, but they both glanced away so quickly it was almost like it never happened.

"It's three--no, four?--walls away from here," Chris started without preamble. "All the streams flow under the walls, through big drainage pipes that are set into the stone. Three courtyards away, it heads out of the area, out under the big wall." He waved his hand at the huge high mass of sheer stone. "That wall's gotta be twenty feet thick. Anyway, it diverts through a ditch, then a hole in the ground, then through a much smaller pipe, which had a grate inside that I wiggled loose. It looks like it empties into a drainage ditch outside the wall." He looked very self-satisfied, but then sobered. "Only problem is, that last pipe. JC had room to spare, but he's a tiny thing. The rest of us shouldn't have a problem, even Lance if we can tie his wings down somehow. But Nick..."

Nick stared back as all eyes were directed at him, and Lance watched as his face drained of all color. "You're leaving me?" He whispered, and swayed a little on his feet. His eyes seemed to lock on Lance. "You're leaving me."

In a moment of spitefulness Lance wanted to say yes, yes he was being left behind, just to make Nick feel some of the hurt that Nick had caused *him*. But he didn't. He couldn't. "We're not leaving you," he said. "We're not leaving you alone here. But everyone who can go ... well, they should." He had to agree with that part of the plan. "I'll be easier to get the others out if we have people on the outside."

"And I can take on fifty guys if I have to," boasted AJ. Lance knew he couldn't, but it was nice to hear that he would be willing to try. "But Nick ... how much did it hurt you, to coast to the ground. Like ... if we could manage to get you *up* the wall somehow, could you get back down on the other side?"

Nick looked down again, chewing his lip even harder, though his face had regained some color with Lance's assurance. "I don't know," he finally answered quietly. "It hurt worse than anything so far, but I think I could do it if I had to. As long as there was someone on the other side to help, if I landed too hard or hurt too bad to walk. I think so, yeah."

"I think we should save storming the castle for a last resort," Kevin put in, watching AJ with his brows quirked ironically. "I woke up earlier than they expected and fought them, and they put me down with no trouble at all. And I was a guardsman at the castle." Looking at his broad frame, body corded with muscle, Lance could believe it.

"Plus we have to talk to the others," JC said, waving his hand back at the wall. "The others we found, they can't stay here. We might have to put a bag on the boy's head or something though, he's too beautiful to look at straight. And the man who laughs, he's as big as Nick. No wings, though, so he should fit okay."

"And that's everyone?" asked Lance, looking at them each in turn. "No wait, it can't be ... there's still the man who sings. But he's been so quiet today. Everyone's been quiet today. We'll need to talk to everyone. And find a way to get Nick on the wall." He hated the wings, despite their beauty, but he did wish they were at least useful. That Nick could fly out under his own power.

"The people keeping us here have taken me down more than once," said Chris, which wasn't much of a secret but Lance hadn't thought about that too hard before. "And someone's going to have to pull Lance through that tunnel; there's no way he's swimming."

"I can swim," protested Lance. "I've been swimming since I could walk."

"And so you know that swimming uses your shoulder muscles and yours are pretty much out of commission for the next while," said Chris. "Don't argue, you know I'm right. Kevin ... since we're going to be in the water most of the time, do you think you'll be all right to go?"

He made a face. "I can't see all that well yet, but if I have someone to guide me, the water won't be a problem. I'm more worried about after we get out, actually. I think we're pretty far from anywhere, and just from what I've heard some of us aren't walking all that well, yet."

"We'll worry about that once we're out," AJ said firmly. "Time to cross that bridge when we come to it. Now clue us in...how many of us are there?"

Kevin shrugged. "Nine that I know of that are out already, and one who came in with me who may or may not be out here somewhere. Ten total, and we only know of eight, leaving two left to find."

"Ten's a holy number," Nick whispered. "Ten angels for the war." He had crouched down at JC's side, wings spreading on the ground behind him, and was plucking at the jug with nervous fingers.

Ten was an important number to Lance's own people, too, if not holy. It made sense, that there would be ten of them in all. The group fell silent at that pronouncement, their reason for being there becoming clearer and clearer. No one would volunteer for something like this to be done to them, so they leaders would have to take people and force it on them. Take people who were beautiful enough that with the modifications they could be mistaken as something holy, to these people. It still didn't make sense to Lance that *he* had been taken, except for his eyes. It must have been for the eyes.

"We need to do this as soon as we can," said AJ. "I know some of you want to wait, but if we find that all ten of us are out here already, I don't think we can wait. Not if they're planning on moving us soon."

"We still need to find a way to get Nick out," insisted Lance. It didn't even matter that Nick wasn't talking to him; Lance would have done the same for anyone. Or so he told himself, anyway. "Someone go gather the others."

"Yes, master," Chris said dryly, giving him a look. "Who's the least likely to make those poor souls run screaming for the keepers?"

"JC," at least three voices chorused, and JC's head snapped up, baffled expression on his face.

"What?"

"JC, can you go get the others and bring them back through the water tunnels, please?" Chris asked, suspiciously sweet. "There should be four."

"Oh, sure," JC said cheerfully. Lance had to shake his head at the change in him. "No problem."

"He shouldn't go by himself," AJ argued. "What if someone really *is* crazy? Dangerous crazy, I mean. I'll go with him. And remember, we need to work fast, here. We've only got so much daylight, and they usually come by for checks around dusk." He clapped JC on the shoulder, staggering him. "We'll go round up the lost lambs, and you all can figure out a way to get the farm boy out. I have faith."

Lance hadn't come up with any ideas yet, but he hoped that one of the others would. When he looked at the outer wall it seemed so large and imposing it seemed almost impossible to get up it. But there just had to be a way. "Okay," he said, giving AJ and JC an absent wave goodbye. Maybe JC wouldn't scare the others, but Lance bet that AJ might. "We'll work on that."

Nick looked absolutely miserable, and Lance would be that he was convinced he wasn't getting out of there with the rest of them. He had already been so quiet before, and then his blow-up with Lance, and now this. Lance almost felt sorry for him.

"Does *anybody* have any ideas?" asked Chris. "Cause I'm pretty much out of them after discovering the *first* way out."

"We've got to get him up that wall," Kevin said hoarsely, head back in his hands again. "I don't think we have either the time or enough stone to build any kind of ramp, and there's no way to cut wood for a ladder or tie it if we could. We're going to have to make some kind of rope and grapnel system, like in sieges."

"Oh my, yes," Chris said admiringly. "Definitely. Rope and grapnel. What the hell is a grapnel?"

"Something to anchor the rope to the wall, so he can climb it," Kevin explained. "We've got straw from the mattresses, we can twist that, or shred the coverings for more material."

"Question is, can he climb?" They all looked at Nick, who was sitting absolutely still and silent, staring at the ground. "Hello!" Chris clapped his hands sharply. "Wake up, kid, this is all for your benefit, you know."

"Won't work," Nick muttered, not looking up. "Can't go home anyway. You should leave me."

"We're not leaving you," said Lance firmly. "No one's suggesting that." Not anymore, anyway.

"Right," said Chris. "All for one and one for us. We're in this together now, kid, like it or not. And we're gonna get you out of here if we have to *throw* you over. I mean it. Don't think we won't." He flexed his arm and Lance figured that he could get Nick maybe a foot in the air, and that was if he was trying real hard, but it was spirited, anyway. "Now. Can you climb?"

"You wouldn't leave us, after all," added Lance. "Well, maybe me. But not anyone else."

"Wouldn't leave you," Nick sighed quietly, still not looking up. "I couldn't. I just. I don't know if I can climb. Definitely not that far."

"Maybe if we made a rockpile as high as we could, he could get the rest of the way up," Chris mused, looking up the wall. "Why couldn't any of us have gotten anything useful, like incredible superhuman strength?" He snorted irritably, rubbing at his own eyes. "These eyes and hair and wings are all well and good, but they aren't very helpful at all.

Suddenly, somewhere, the laughing man started up again, louder and higher, and with a hysterical edge. Lance jumped at the eerie sound, glancing around nervously.

"Either they just reached him, or they're in for a nasty surprise when they do," murmured Lance, looking away from Nick's eyes again. Kevin cringed at the sound; it was probably the first time he'd heard it. The rest of them, though, they knew who it was, what it was. It seemed worse, for the newfound silence from the rest of them.

"Look, are we sure Nick can't make it through the pipe, if we strapped his wings down tight?" asked Nick. "And if he just had to hold onto someone else's ankle, not move his arms at all? It probably wouldn't be comfortable, but ... " He looked at Chris, the only one there who knew how large the pipe really was.

Chris was shaking his head regretfully. "That laughing guy? The big one? He'll barely make it through, he'll probably have to be pulled. Nick's wings...see how the first joint extends past his shoulders? There's no way we could make them small enough to fit without breaking them."

"B-breaking them?" Nick blanched again. "No, I don't want you to do that." He looked up at the wall again. "Maybe I can climb. If I have a lot of tea first, and a push up. Gods, it's going to hurt."

"We'll help all we can," Chris assured him. "Rock piling, pushing, and all."

"Maybe we could-" Kevin broke off and turned with the rest of them at the sound of splashing by the wall. Curly, dripping hair--at least it wasn't on fire, Lance thought--lean beautiful body, big hands...he couldn't see anything that would separate this boy from the rest of the world, until he glanced at his face.

He could only look for a moment, before the incredible beauty of the boy made him have to turn away, his eyes aching. There was complete silence in the courtyard, broken only by Chris's "holy FUCK." Lance looked at him, and realized that Chris was still staring, apparently unaffected.

"Don't look at me," came the boy's voice, making him sound younger and more fragile than he appeared. "Please don't ... you can't .... no one can't."

"I can," Lance heard Kevin say. When he looked up again he found that if he looked just to the side of the boy's face, or at any other part of the body, he was okay. But he couldn't forget that ache, that came from looking at him. "What's your name?"

"J-Justin," he said, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Justin looking at each of them in turn. "Someone please ... please tell me what's going on here. Have you seen Joey, is Joey here?"

Lance didn't know any Joey, but he couldn't bear to tell him that just yet. He *knew* that tone of voice, knew that pain and hope and heartbreak. He just hoped Nick wasn't able to recognize it, to make this boy feel any worse than he obviously already did.

"Who's Joey?" Nick asked curiously, and when Lance glanced at him he saw that he, too, was looking sidelong at the boy, his eyes wide. "If there's a Joey here, we haven't met him. We're planning an escape, didn't JC tell you?"

"He didn't tell me anything." That fragile voice didn't change, but Justin stepped a little closer to them, looking back at Chris and Kevin in wonder. "You can look at me...your eyes are on fire. Oh!" He apparently really looked at Nick and Lance, because he leaped back. "Wings!"

"No shit," Chris said dryly, and that seemed to break the spell that the boy had cast on all of them, because Nick shifted his body, and Kevin stood up, and Lance managed to look away. "Now, who's this Joey? Why do you think he might be here?"

"We ... were taken together," he said, his excitement falling to nothing again. "I haven't seen him since then. But ... but he must be here. He must."

It didn't really mean any such thing, and Lance wondered for a moment if there had been more of them at first, that hadn't survived the procedures. And that was why he and Kevin were brought in so long after the others. As replacements. He suddenly resented those people who might not have made it.

"Well, there are some that aren't here yet," said Kevin, his eyes still on Justin. "Don't give up hope. That's pretty much all we have right now." Cheerful guy.

"I just..." Justin slumped down to a seat on the grass, like a puppet with its strings cut. "I was so sure, when they told me there were others, I was so sure he'd be here waiting for me." He started to cry, quietly, and even his tears were crystal-perfect, glimmering on his cheeks.

"Are you the one that was singing?" Chris asked gently. He clearly wasn't the laugher. "C'mon, kiddo, no tears. Maybe he escaped, just like we're going to. Maybe he's waiting for you out there, you think of that?" He slid a glance at Kevin, though, who shook his head just a fraction, and Lance knew that Chris knew the likelihood of that.

"N-no," Justin sniffled, but when Lance snuck a quick, painful glance at him, he looked marginally happier.

"I bet if he was smiling we'd be blind by now," Nick murmured low, and Lance noticed that he'd moved much closer.

"Beautiful and terrible," Lance murmured, and sighed. "Imagine going through life and not being able to have anyone look at you." There were no winners here.

"No tears," said Kevin, echoing Chris's words. "We're close to being on the outside now, it's a time for celebration, not tears." But Kevin sounded like he was far from celebrating; getting out was only the first step. Then there was the rest of their lives.

"I just wanted to see him again," whispered Justin. "I just wanted to hold him again. It feels like it's been forever."

Nick stiffened beside him, and Lance looked over, about to warn him to hold his tongue. But Nick was just staring at Justin, eyes wide, before he flinched and blinked and looked away. Right at Lance, and flinched again, color rising in his cheeks. But he held Lance's gaze for a long moment, his eyes unreadable.

"Hey now." Chris had made it to Justin's side, and crouched beside him, reaching for his shoulders. "We'll find your man, Justin, if he's here at all; I promise we're not leaving anyone behind. There are still three to come, you know." Lance could have kicked him for giving the boy false hope, but before he could say anything Justin screamed, jerking away from Chris's hands.

"HOT! Ouch!" He was rubbing his shoulder gingerly, and looking at Chris with startled eyes. "You're hot as a stove!"

For the first time, Lance thought he saw a flash of hurt in Chris's expression. "I'm not," he said quietly. "It's just my eyes. I'll close them next time, Justin, I'm sorry." He didn't try to touch him again, though. "Just don't give up yet. No one give up."

Lance didn't plan to, and he didn't think anyone else did either. Not even Nick, who at the moment seemed to be having the least physical trouble of all of them save maybe Justin, but the most emotional trouble with the situation. "He's normal," he whispered to Nick, pushing just a little bit, wanting Nick to see that so badly, to understand.

"We need to work on a rope for Nick," Kevin reminded them. "And to find something that would work as a grappling hook. How wide did you say the wall is?"

"About ten, fifteen feet at the base, I'd say. But most walls get much narrower at the top, to keep them stable." Justin had stopped rubbing his shoulder and was watching Chris curiously as he spoke. "We're gonna need a lot of rope."

"What's normal?" Nick asked bleakly, the first words he'd spoken directly to Lance since their argument. "Nothing's the way it used to be, everything's twisted around and strange." He tipped his head, indicating everything around them. "There's only so much change I can *take*, Lance."

"Who's Nick, and why does he need rope?" Justin piped up, looking from face to face. "I...oh, yeah. I don't think you'd even fit through the bigger pipes, with those beautiful wings."

"You don't have any choice, Nick," said Lance as gently as he could. This was progress, after all. "The change is there and you either have to go with it or give up. The changes won't stop happening in your life just because you're not ready for them. I wish they could slow down, but they can't. You have to go with it. We all do."

"We'll need everyone's bed linens," said Kevin decisively. "Between all of us, I think we can string a rope that's long enough and strong enough. If we can make it twice the height of the wall, we won't need a grappling hook. We can tie a stone to the end and throw it over and one of us on the other side can hold it as Nick climbs up. He would still have to glide down on the other side but ... yeah, I think that could work."

For the first time in a while, Nick even seemed to brighten a little.

"Twice the height?" Chris was looking at it skeptically. "I don't know what your bed looks like, but mine's a bare straw mattress. Take the straw out and you've got a good amount of cloth, but...aw hell, I guess we won't know till we try. You know what would be really nice right now? A door between these damned courtyards." Without another word he splashed into the stream, presumably to retrieve the cloth.

"That might work," Nick said, dawning excitement on his face. "If someone was pulling from the other side, or lots of someones, I'd just have to hang on, mostly. I can do that. And then...jump off the other side..."

"Whoa." Justin was clearly awed, though Lance had already trained himself not to look directly at him. "Those wings actually work? They just made me so ugly that no one can look at me." His voice went wistful. "I wish I'd gotten wings instead."

"No, Justin, no," said Lance, shaking his head and hoping Justin was looking. "You're not ... don't you know? You're beautiful ... too beautiful. So beautiful it hurts to look at you. It's like you're the most perfect person ever created. It takes my breath away and makes my heart ache." It did, and he rubbed his chest reflexively. "The wings hurt, you have no idea. They hurt so much. But Justin ... he can glide now, on his wings. Just enough to get him down safely."

"The cloth for the mattresses is rough but strong," said Kevin. Lance hoped he was still looking at Justin; Justin needed to be looked at. "We can tear it into thin strips and tie them together. They'll hold for long enough. As long as we need them to."

Justin moved restlessly, drawing the eye, though Lance noticed that Nick, too, didn't look over. "I don't want to be the most beautiful creature ever created," he said in a voice that didn't sound entirely sure. "I suppose...I suppose it's better than being hideous. But why can't people look at me? Why can Chris and Kevin?"

"Don't know, kid," Kevin said quietly, slumping a little where he sat. "It's probably something to do with the eyes. To me, you're...yeah, just about the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen, but it doesn't hurt me to see you. Just be careful around the others. And do me a favor and go get the mattress from the room."

"I guess he won't be stealing young boys from their beds either," Nick murmured as Justin bounced off willingly to run the errand, and Lance would have slapped him if not for the thread of tired humor in his voice.

"No, I think that's probably the last thing on his mind," said Lance. "In fact, it's probably never occurred to him. And it would do you a lot of good to stop thinking about it too much, too. It's not true. It's just ... it's horrible and it's not true." He couldn't even tell if Nick was listening, but Kevin was."

"Want to clue a guy in to what's going on here?"

It was curious that he asked like that, because Lance knew that he'd been there when he'd been talking to Chris and AJ. And had probably been listening, even if he hadn't been communicative yet.

"Not really," Nick said clearly, before turning back to Lance. "How can I help thinking about it? It's what I've been told since I was tiny." He sighed and flexed his wings and avoided Kevin's burning eyes.

"It wouldn't be about this young man and his Joey, would it?" Kevin persisted, watching them both, now. "Because if it is, I warn you to be gentle with him. Even if he does somehow manage to find him, he'll be faced with a lover who can't look at him." Kevin stretched out a little, rubbing at his eyes again. "That would be difficult for anyone to bear, I think."

"No, that's not it. Not exactly." Nick paused, and stared at him. "What...surely I'm not the only person in the world who has been told by ones they trust that that sort of thing is an abomination?" His voice was tired and a little disbelieving, though, not hateful.

"No, I'm sure you're not," said Lance sadly. Sad for Nick and even sadder for Justin, whether he did or he didn't find his lover again. "But that doesn't make it any more right and .... hopefully you'll see that, being with us." In the end, it was all he could hope for.

"I have the feeling," said Kevin, sounding very wise and calm, "that we're going to be enjoying each other's company for a very long time. So perhaps we ought to be as tolerant as we can of each other's differences. We come from very different places, all of us, and right and wrong may not be as simple as we grew up to think. Nothing is simple anymore; everything is new."

"A very long time?" Nick snorted, settling down on the rock beside the one Lance sat on. "I don't know about that, unless you're all very slow swimmers. Everyone will scatter, Lance back to his university, Chris to his family, everyone else to...wherever it is they came from, of course. But you're sure right about everything being new. And me...I can't go home."

"Got it!" Justin's voice was markedly more cheerful as he hauled the unwieldy mattress out of the small room. "Where do you want it, Kevin? Oh!" He dropped the bed and headed for the stream at a run, as more telltale splashing started near the wall. "Maybe it's Joey!" His voice sounded very young.

Lance reached back over his shoulder and his hand touched feathers, his own feathers for the first time. "Oh!" he said, and jerked it back in surprise. "Oh." He couldn't go back to the university like this. He didn't know where he could go. And he didn't know if there was any way to turn him back again, to the way he used to be.

Kevin was a smart guy.

He watched the stream and wasn't sure whether or not he actually wanted it to be Joey, for Justin's sake. "We'll find a home," he said softly, and wondered if Nick heard.

Nick sniffed again. "You, maybe. I bet your ma wouldn't blink twice at seeing you with wings. Mine..." he trailed off. "They might get used to the wings, at least, I guess."

"Joey?" Justin was crouched by the stream, staring into it, and leaped to his feet as a dark head emerged. For a moment, Lance thought it was Chris; the hair was right, and the short beard, but this man was much larger and more powerful than Chris. He pulled himself out of the stream with strangely bright hands, and shook water over his eyes, coughing a little.

"JOEY!" Justin shrieked it, and Lance jumped a foot at the piercing sound, watching with held breath as Justin flew to his side, barreling into him and almost knocking him flat.

"Oh gods," Kevin murmured bleakly, as the three of them watched Joey's hands, clearly burning with the same fire as JC's hair, come up to touch Justin's back.

Lance closed his eyes, he couldn't watch. It was bad enough that he had to hear Justin's shriek of pain a moment later, then the oppressive silence that followed. "Oh no," he heard someone say, but it was so soft he couldn't tell whether it was Kevin or Nick who had spoken. It didn't matter; he knew what they had to be seeing. Both of the men jerking back from each other, Joey unable to look at Justin because of Justin's face, unable to even touch him because of his own hands.

He felt sick to his stomach.

After a few more moments of the dead silence, he finally opened his eyes. Justin was sitting on a stone by the stream, weeping, and Joey had turned his back, standing in the middle of the stream and hiding his face. Lance could only guess what he was doing.

The first hint he had that Nick had moved was the soft brush of a wing past his shoulder. Nick walked carefully to Justin's side, approaching him from the side, his head tipped down and even his wings drooping. Speaking too softly for Lance to hear, he crouched by Justin's knee, placing a hand on him gently. "NO," Justin shouted, in sudden response to whatever Nick had said. "No, it won't..." he sobbed more gently, and tipped his head to Nick's shoulder.

"-ance. Lance." He realized Kevin must have been saying his name for a few moments. He'd been too busy staring at Nick in shock to notice. "I can't get Joey, can you bring him over here? Lance. Before he just disappears. I'm the only one who can touch him."

Lance was frozen in spot still for a moment though, everything just roiling up inside of him. But finally he did tear his eyes away from the sight of Nick comforting Justin, and went to Joey's side, to try to coax him out of the water. "Joey?" he said, trying to get his attention. "Joey, can you look at me? Yeah, yeah, like, that. Hi ... I'm Lance."

The face that turned to him was absolutely devastated, drained of light that would have made the man handsome. He simply looked haggard and lost, and held his hands away from him like he wished he could simply remove them from his body. Brown eyes searched Lance's face for a moment, drifted over his wings, then skipped to Justin, whose face was hidden in Nick's shoulder and behind the sweep of his wing. His mouth opened and Lance smiled encouragingly, hoping he would speak. Instead, he started to laugh, an awful hollow sound, worse by far than Justin's sobs.

"Gods, not this," Lance heard behind him after a long moment, and then stumbling footsteps, and Kevin grabbed his arm with a hot hand, swaying where he stood before letting go carefully. He took another step and reached for Joey's hand, grabbing it before Joey could pull away. "Come on. Come out of the water, Joey. See, I'm not burning. Come on."

The laughter was what ripped Lance's heart out, that bitter, painful laughter. He wish he could touch him, do something, anything. But he couldn't even do that much ... and he knew that the frustration, hurt, impotence he felt at that was only a fraction of what Joey and Justin felt. He didn't think they were ready to hear the bright side yet, that they were both alive, both still together. It was small consolation for what they'd lost.

"That's it," Kevin was saying soothingly. "Just come and sit down with me and we'll talk about this."

Joey kept laughing.

"Stop it!" Justin cried suddenly, not lifting his head. "Joey, stop, please, don't make that awful sound...it's killing me, please stop..."

"Shhh," Nick replied, stroking his shoulder, glancing back at Lance with tears in his eyes. "It'll be all right, Justin, it'll work out. Shhh."

Joey's mouth snapped shut like a trap at Justin's words, though, and he followed Kevin woodenly, completely silent until he was pressed to a seat on the stones, folding down onto them limply. His eyes wouldn't leave Justin, no matter which way he turned, and he finally licked his lips and grimaced, clinging to Kevin's hand like it was his hope of salvation.

"Justin, baby." His voice was cracked, but surprisingly high and clear for all that. "Baby, are you all right? Are you hurt, did they hurt you?"

"Yes," Justin choked out. "They did, but I'm okay. Are you okay, Joey? Joey, are you okay!? JOEY?!"

"I'm okay, I'm okay," he said, tears streaming down his cheeks though he didn't sob, not like Justin and especially not like JC. Didn't make any sound at all. "Oh, Justin."

"I missed you," said Justin desperately. "God, Joey, I missed you SO much. I thought you could be dead but I wouldn't believe it, I *wouldn't*, you just had to be here. I had to see you again."

"I had to see you again, too," said Joey and then choked on his words and fell silent. Lance felt gutted, and sank to the ground halfway between them. It was just too much.

"The fuckers," Kevin swore slowly and viciously. "The fuckers. Devils will dance on their rotten souls." He let Joey cling to him desperately, sitting very still, his face terrible, burning eyes and cold anger.

"Joey," Justin sniffled, pulling away from Nick, finally, stumbling away from the stone where he'd been sitting and towards Joey and Kevin. He passed Lance on his way, who had to look away. "I...you can't look at me, but I need to see you. I'm coming over, okay? I won't...you can close your eyes." Joey caught his breath, and nodded silently, his eyes shut tightly.

Justin crouched by Joey's side, flinching away from the fire in his hands, watching tears fall down Joey's cheeks. He reached up and touched the tears, then Joey's nose and mouth and throat, little fluttering brushes with his fingers, not long enough to burn. "You're alive," he murmured, and Kevin looked at him in the face and flinched from whatever he saw there. "You're alive, and that's what matters. Oh, Joey, I love you so much." Leaning up on his hands, he pressed a kiss to Joey's mouth, holding it till he was crying again, and fell back, pressing his palm to his lips. Joey's eyes flashed open, and he stared at Justin, his face twisting in pain, but refusing to look away until his head jerked back in reflex.

Lance couldn't watch. He just ... he couldn't. He felt like he was intruding on the most intensely private moment he'd ever experienced. In that moment he didn't have any doubt that either one would be willing to die for the other, without hesitation. They were certainly willing to endure a great deal of pain.

Nick was starting toward the two of them but Lance stopped him with his arm before he could get by. "Let them have this moment," he said softly. "Thank you. For helping him."

Nick sank down at his side, sighing and scrubbing a hand through his hair, watching as Kevin, too, looked away. He turned to Lance, then, and his eyes were suspiciously red. "He just..." Nick gestured helplessly with one hand. "They're so sad," he finished, looking like he wished he could find better words.

Kevin moved past them silently, moving like an old man. He still looked furiously angry, though, and heartbroken, and out of the corner of his eyes Lance could see why he'd moved away. Sidelong glances and tiny brief touches, words spoken quietly, and Kevin must have felt very superfluous. "They couldn't even make Joey like me. They couldn't even have that," he muttered, shaking his head as he continued on towards the stream.

"It's not going to work," said Lance softly, and he hated that it was true. "God. That's ... this won't be enough, not forever. And it's not *fair*. Just look at them! They love each other so much. So *much*, Nick. They're everything to each other. Some of us only dream of something like that. It's just not right."

Nick sighed, deep and slow, and shook his head almost reluctantly. "It's not. None of this is right, but that's the worst I've seen so far. They're just." He waved his hand again, clearly searching for words, sneaking glances at the pair. "You really think it won't work out? They won't be able to...you know. Get around it somehow? Maybe Justin can wear a veil or something. Gloves? For Joey? They really do look..." He chewed on his lip uncertainly. "It's so weird to say that they look so on love, but they do."

"They are," said Lance simply. "They are, and it's one of the most terrible things I've ever seen, that someone's torn them apart like this. They'll try to make it work, just look at them, I know they will. but it'll get too hard, and ... " He just had a gut feeling about it, that their love wouldn't be enough to compensate for such an insurmountable difference. "They'll never stop loving each other, at least. I don't think they could. And ... look at them, Nick. They're beautiful together. Imagine how happy they both were, before this happened."

Nick's brow furrowed like he was concentrating, and he blinked twice, looking at the pair directly for the first time in a while. Red bloomed in his cheeks slowly, and he dropped his head soon enough.

"They're in love," he answered, shades of irritation in his voice. "Of course they're beautiful together." He fidgeted with the ragged hem of his pants briefly, then glanced up at Lance. "I'm...I know it's shitty of me to tell you this, especially since I was so, you know, before. But I'm still not totally okay with that. Just so you know. But it's starting to seem more okay than it was." Lance had a feeling that might be the closest thing to an apology he was going to get.

Lance could only shrug and sigh at that. "I know," he said. "I know. I just wish things were different. Because not only is what you were taught a vicious lie, it was cruel to you, too. To force you to grow up believing that. I actually ... I kind of feel sorry for you." He didn't think Nick was going to like hearing that much. "It must have been hard."

"It wasn't hard," Nick snapped, sounding defensive. "My family loved me, they taught me what they thought was right, they weren't being cruel. It didn't make any difference anyway, I never knew anyone who was like that before now. I could just as well feel sorry for YOU for not growing up knowing right from wrong." He flung a small stone at the water, then winced as the movement stretched his shoulder. "Anyway, once we're out of here you won't have to put up with my ignorance any more."

"I was trying to be *nice*," said Lance. "Maybe I shouldn't have bothered." He wished he could throw rocks too. Or something. "Where are you going to go? When we're out, i mean. You said you can't go home, so ... where are you going to go, Nick? Do you have anywhere to go?"

"I'll find somewhere," Nick insisted stubbornly. "Maybe I'll go...West, to the islands. I hear they're full of strange creatures, I should fit right in." Lance had noticed before that Nick's wings often seemed to reflect his mood; right then they were ruffled and prickly-looking.

Seeing people appear over the wall or in the water was almost commonplace by now, but Lance still jumped a little when Chris splashed out, face like a thundercloud and flaming eyes frightening. "We've got some true believers in here," he announced to everyone, before his eyes lit on Joey and Justin, still bending close to each other and whispering softly, not touching. "Holy shit."

"Justin found his Joey," said Lance sadly, glancing at them again. It was like there was no one else in the world but each other, and Lance wouldn't begrudge them these moments. "What do you mean 'true believers'?"

"I mean, not everyone things the story we were told about 'doing this for the people' was a load of trash," said Chris, but he was calming down a little, watching them. "And not everyone is all gung-ho about a jailbreak."

"What?!" said Lance, jerking his attention back to Chris. "What are you talking about? Is this a joke?"

"No joke," Chris said grimly, turning away from the couple like the sight pained him. "JC's still with them. One's new, he's got hair like JC and was waiting in his place when we got there, and one's like Joey. JC's still with them, trying to talk to them, I think. Me, I just got mad and left, and AJ's about to start howling. Fuck 'em, I say. They want to stay they're welcome to." He growled and kicked a rock.

"We can't leave anyone," Kevin interjected, sounding worried. "They'll tell where we've gone, how we got out. Maybe before we can even leave. Did you bring the stuff for the rope?"

"Oh, yeah." Chris started unwrapping the wet strips fabric wound around his waist. "We'd BETTER get out of here today, or no one'll have a bed to sleep on."

Lance nodded his head and started struggling to his feet but it was too hard and hurt too much and he just fell down onto his ass again. And decided to stay there, save his energy for the Great Escape. "We at least need to get them here to meet with us," he insisted. "How can the .... they're on *fire*, how can they think this is a privilege?"

"Maybe they just believe that strongly," said Kevin, giving Nick a sidelong look. "People believe all kinds of things, Lance. It's a big world."

"Maybe they're just stupid," Nick sniffed. He'd moved towards Lance when he'd tried to stand, but now settled back down beside him. "I'm a true believer, I believe in angels, and *I* know this is wrong and bad. Or maybe...maybe they're just scared." He scratched at his back, frowning a little. "It's scary, thinking people would do something so terrible to us without a good, holy reason. It's hard to believe."

"Whatever the reason, it's ridiculous," Chris answered impatiently. "I think AJ's considering knocking them on the head and dragging them out of here with us whether they want to or not. JC's trying to convince them we need their holy influence...nothing works on a fanatic better than a chance at some converts. Smart kid, that one."

Lance was as impressed as anyone by JC's transformation for a useless, wailing wreck to someone who was on the brink of getting them out of there. "Tell them there's a heathen here," he snorted. "That should get them motivated. Or ... they've seen AJ. Make them realize that these keepers of ours are doing things, too, that are relevant to another person's faith. Theirs is not a holy path."

"That doesn't seem to be working yet," said Chris through gritted teeth. "That may be the one thing that gets them out of here, though. Something damn well better because I'm not letting my chance at freedom be ruined by a couple of freaks."

"Oh, I see," Nick scoffed, an unexpected edge in his voice. "Their beliefs are different from yours, so they're freaks?" He looked directly at Lance, eyes accusing. "I think we should leave them here if they want to stay. They can't stop us, and it's not like *they* aren't going to notice we're gone soon anyway."

"No one stays behind," Kevin insisted stubbornly, shaking his head and moving closer, sitting down heavily so that he, Nick, Lance and Chris were in a rough square. "No one stays to experience whatever those maniacs are planning next."

"No, Nick," Chris said with pointed patience, after acknowledging Kevin with a nod. "It's not that their beliefs are different, it's that they're FREAKS. They think this torture is a privilege, that they've actually BECOME angels. I think you'll agree that they're probably wrong about that, won't you?"

Nick fell silent again, and in Lance's experience that was never a good sign, with him. And despite what Nick said and believed, it still mattered to Lance that he was okay. "I don't want this to be complicated," he said. "Things are complicated enough; the desire to get away from this was supposed to be simple. By my mother always told me ... life is complicated, you just have to do what you feel is right."

"Oh, will you shut up about your mother?" snapped Chris.

"No, he's right," said Kevin. "Or she's right. That's good advice. Unfortunately, it doesn't help us much."

"Sure it does," Nick said quietly, looking at the ground. "If you want to do what's right, you have to let other people do the same thing. So if JC can't talk them into coming with us..." He shrugged minimally. "We'll have to leave them."

"Fuck," Kevin sighed, clenching fists in his long black hair. "Maybe we can tell them we're clearing the way for more worthy candidates to come, or something, and they won't run screaming to the keepers. Either way, we've got a rope to make. Nick, you want to help out with this?"

He shrugged again silently, tipping his head in a nod, and started tying strips of cloth together expertly. At least living on a farm had given him some useful knowledge, Lance thought cynically.

"Maybe they'll believe it if we tell them they can do more good out in the world at large," mused Lance. He didn't really think they believed it all, though. They were probably just scared, and clinging to anything they could right now. And what they had was what they had been told. Maybe, given time, they would come around to something else they could cling to. Escape.

"If what JC's doing doesn't work, we'll try that," said Chris. "But Torch seems to be doing pretty well so far, if you ask me. If anyone can do it, he can."

"Who'd have thought it," Kevin shook his head a little, then winced at the motion. "We're going to need a lot more of that tea before we go. I think we should plan to leave a little after dark, though those of us on fire will still show bright. That way, even if the two don't decide to join us, they'll have to wait till morning to alert anyone, as well."

"What are you talking about?" The soft voice surprised them all, and Lance turned to see Joey standing and watching them, Justin hovering at his shoulder. Joey looked calmer and composed now, at least, not laughing or sobbing or really doing much of anything but being blank. He couldn't look at Justin's face long enough to read the expression there.

"About our plans to get out of here," said Lance, meeting Joey's eyes. "About how there are a couple of us who may not want to go. At least we've accounted for all ten of us, though. We won't be leaving anyone behind by accident. That would be horrible, if we had."

"We aren't leaving anyone behind, period," said Kevin again, but he sounded less forceful about it now. Like it was a hope, rather than a certainty. Lance hoped too; he couldn't imagine leaving anyone to this, not even if they didn't want to leave. They hadn't been here long, they were probably still in shock about the whole thing. They shouldn't have to live with any mistakes they made while in that state. Lance might've been there too, if his own belief system had been something other than what it was.

"How about ... " said Lance slowly, "I make more tea, and you guys build rope and figure the rest of this out."

"I'll help you," Joey volunteered softly, and if Lance hadn't been looking at him he would have missed Justin's flinch from behind Joey's shoulder. Joey held out his hands, wrapped in fire. "I can't make rope, it'll burn. And I can maybe get water hot, if nothing else."

"Yeah, yeah. But come back, Lance, we need that sharp brain of yours," Chris agreed absently, reaching for more of the still-wet rope. "It's too bad this place is made out of stone; between us, we could burn it down, if it wasn't." He looked wistful at the thought.

"I'm sure they thought of that," Kevin said dryly, reaching for rope himself. "Make a lot of that tea, Lance. My head's already about to explode, and we haven't even started moving around much yet."

"Speak for yourself," Chris grumbled. "But he's right. Make a lot."

Nick nodded quiet agreement, his wings propped awkwardly on the ground behind him.

"All right," said Lance, struggling to his feet again and actually making it all the way this time. He retrieved the empty jug and headed for the stream. He could only make a jugful at a time, but between them the first jug would probably be gone very quickly.

He felt a warmth at his side, and was surprised to realize that Joey really was coming with him. He hadn't expected him to leave Justin's side, and half-expected Justin to be right behind them, but he wasn't.

"Hey," he said gently. "Hey, how are you doing?"

Joey shrugged, glancing at him and then back at the water. "I'm...okay. I guess. I just needed a break from...not seeing him." His sigh sounded like it came all the way from his toes, and he pointedly did NOT look back to where the murmur of voices was clear. "You want to hear something funny? They weren't even planning to take me, they told me I'm not beautiful enough. But they saw me smiling at Justin when we were walking together, and changed their minds and grabbed us both. Strange, isn't it, that they took me for a smile and then snatched away the only thing I had to smile about?"

Lance closed his eyes for a moment and shivered, the horror of it overtaking him again. "I'm sorry," he said softly, as though it could help. "I know that's not enough, but I am. It's terrible. But ... I look at you two--" He tried not to cringe at the word look. "--and I see how you feel about each other and I know ... I know that even something like this couldn't take that away from you." He didn't believe that, but he also knew that Joey didn't need to hear skepticism right now, he needed hope. "I need to ... " He reached past him to pull a root and wash it off in the stream. "These stop pain," he told him. But they couldn't stop the worst pain that Joey was feeling.

"Yeah?" Joey's hands flexed, muscles rippling in his arms and shoulders, and looked at Lance curiously. "Your back looks pretty raw, there. Be sure to save some for yourself." He bent and pulled a root out, dunking it and his hand in the stream before it could do more than smolder. "I'll love him forever, you know," he added abruptly, seemingly out of nowhere. "I hope it doesn't bother you, hearing it, but it's true. It doesn't matter what they did to us, I will, always. He's my Justin." He smiled at Lance, then, and Lance could see an echo of what had made the kidnappers grab him despite their earlier decision.

"It's okay, I understand," he assured him, and even managed to smile back. "One day, I'll be lucky to have someone like that in my life." He started breaking the root into small pieces and dropping it into the water. "I've only been here a couple of days. The wounds are still .... very new. They feel terrible, and from the looks on everyone's faces when they see me, they must look even worse. I just live in the hope that they'll heal up as well as Nick's are."

"Well, you're new?" Joey flexed his hands again, as if in memory of intense pain. "It gets better, at least with the fire it does. Justin...they remade his face, and he says it's only recently stopped hurting when he smiles. Your scars are *much* more raw than your friend's, but they're bound to heal, if his have. I think it's a safe hope to live in." He took the pitcher when Lance offered it to him, and wrapped his hands around it. "What about the others? There are ten, someone said, but I've only met...JC? He sent me here."

Lance smiled a little bit. "JC, yeah, he's the first person I met, other than Nick. He's ... you know, once he stopped crying, he was really sweet and smart. And then, well, me. Lance. Kevin and Chris are the ones with the eyes; Kevin's really new too. He's the tall one. Chris is the one who shouts a lot. And you know who Nick is, of course. He's ... we were in our compound together. He really helped me out. We're just kinda having a rough time now."

"Yeah?" Joey peered into the pitcher, steam rising around his face. "Is that why he's glaring at us like we're conspiring to kill his dog or something? That face he's making *almost* makes him unpretty." Lance whipped his head around at that, and Nick was indeed staring in their direction, his face set in a scowl. "What's that all about? How could you possibly be having a rough time with him when you've only been here a couple of days?" Lance looked at Joey suspiciously, but there was nothing there but honest curiosity.

"We have ... a difference of opinion on something," said Lance sadly. He didn't want to see that expression on Nick's face anymore. "A rather large difference of opinion. He was ... he was raised to believe something was bad and wrong that I think is perfectly normal and natural. And he's having a hard time with that. And since he's having a hard time with that, so am I." He dropped a few petals from the blackenroot flowers into the pitcher, in the hope that they would help the taste. They certainly couldn't make it worse, and he was out of berries. "So yeah, that about sums it up."

"Well, you can't change the way people think," Joey told him. "Especially things they've been thinking their whole lives. I kind of thought it looked more like jealousy, though." He looked over at Nick again, as did Lance, but Nick's face was tipped down now. "Justin's mother was going to have me arrested after we got together, even though he was over the age of majority. Nothing we could do or say would make her change her mind, so we ran away. We got a little house outside Granite City." He smiled again, bright and easy this time, his eyes far away. "It was perfect, for three whole months, before we came here."

"It sounds wonderful," said Lance wistfully. "He's not jealous, Joey, he hates me now, ever since I told him. He thinks I'm sick and evil and ... it's awful. That's why he's looking at us like that." He sighed again, remembering that awful fight. "How about your family? Do they love Justin as much as you do?" Out of the corner of his eye he could see the rope starting to come together. They would have to remember to take it with them after Nick was over the wall. Fireproof material was going to prove to be a valuable commodity.

"They adore him," Joey confirmed softly, still smiling. "He calls my mother 'mom,' just like I do. They must be frantic by now, with both of us missing like this. Even...even if they can't look at him, or hold my hand, they'll want to know we're alive. If we get out." He set the pitcher down, waving steam away from it. "As for Nick...I don't think he could possibly think you're evil and disgusting. I don't sit close to evil and disgusting people or talk to them the way he was with you." He looked like he was about to pat Lance's shoulder, but pulled back at the last moment, his face falling. "Maybe he's just confused," he finished sadly.

"A lot confused, yeah," said Lance, and bit his lip and wished Joey'd been able to go through with the motion. "Sorry," he murmured, "I'm one of the few non-burning people around here. Nick ... he still says things, and they hurt." But who was he to talk about hurt, in front of this man? "I'm sorry," he said. "I think everything probably seems a little worse than it really is right now. We're all on edge."

"Gods, I can't imagine why," Joey said, the first trace of sarcasm Lance had heard out of him. "One of the few non-burning people, right. Why couldn't Justin have been in the majority, huh? I just don't understand." He sighed, and gestured at the pitcher. "I think the tea's done. At least, it was boiling. Just remember, when you talk to Nick...what you told me. Everyone's on edge, everything seems worse. And at least you can touch him." He looked back at Justin again, longing all over his face.

"If he wanted me to," murmured Lance. "I'm sorry Joey ... I am. We'll, well, we'll start to figure things out when we get out of here. Start to make things work again, however we can. At least you still have each other, you know? At least you're both still here; that's something. It's a start." He sit the pitcher aside and let it sit for a few moments. "Do your hands still hurt? You should drink some of the tea, too, just not too much. It really does help, even if JC still calls it poison."

"I dunno, everyone keeps saying how smart JC is," Joey said, grinning a little, surprising Lance. "Are you sure it's safe?" To show he was kidding, he lifted the pitcher up and took a long swallow. "Why not too much, if it's not poison?"

"What are you two talking about, all quiet?" Nick was walking towards them, an unsettled edge to his voice, looking at them both consideringly. "Joey, I think Justin wants to see you. I'll help Lance now, we're all done with the rope." He actually made little shooing motions with his hands, and his wings lifted out behind him.

"Wow." Joey was looking at Nick with frank admiration. "Beautiful."

Lance agreed with him, but only in his head. "Not too much because it'll upset your stomach," he told Joey quietly. "Go see your boy, Joey. I know you already miss him." Joey looked like he wanted to give Lance a pat on the back, then remembered again and just got up to go. "How'd the rope turn out, Nick? Is it gonna be long enough? It looks huge, but I'm bad at estimating distances." It was, he hoped, a harmless way to start the conversation.

"I dunno," Nick said, sounding sulky. "Kevin says he thinks it'll be long enough if we make a really big pile of rocks on this side, first. But Justin wouldn't stop talking about the house he has with Joey, so I figured I should just come get the guy. They had a *dog* and a *garden* and a *shed* and an *apple tree*...honestly, Lance, I think it might have been better if they'd never found each other. Nothing they've got now can live up to the way he's talking about how things used to be."

"Better to have loved and lost ... " quoted Lance wistfully. "At least they had that time together, Nick. That can't be taken away, even if they don't find it again. And they have a place to go back to, that was *theirs*. They don't have a family to be rejected by." Or they did, but not a family that they'd lived with, and that made a difference. He'd been thinking about his own family, how well they would accept what he'd become. And if he should even go back there any time soon. The men who took him in the first place knew where he'd come from; if they wanted them back, it was probably the first place they'd look.

"They can't go back there like that." Nick settled into a crouch at Lance's side, reaching for the pitcher eagerly. "Joey'll set everything on fire, and Justin won't be able to look anyone in the face. And I don't care HOW great Justin says Joey's family was, it's going to be a shock to see them like this." He took a long drink, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Funny how we've gotten distracted from getting out, though, by them. Kevin's all talking about love transcending the physical, instead of worrying about if he'll be able to swim far enough to get out."

"And that's not a bad thing," said Lance, taking the pitcher back and sipping a bit of the tea himself. "When the time comes, everyone will just suck it up and do what they need to do, and there'll be no fretting about it beforehand. And we *will* all be able to do it, Nick. Even though ... someone's probably gonna have to carry me, when we get out on the other side. I can imagine I'll probably be pretty useless after the journey. I hope there's some shelter nearby here. I think we have a long road ahead of us."

"Carry you?" Nick turned to him sharply, a little frown between his brows. "But...they said they were going to pull you through the tunnel, so you didn't have to swim. And they'll go slow and easy, and you can drink lots of tea, right?" His fingers brushed the top of Lance's shoulder. "You'll be okay. You and Kevin, you'll both be okay, we'll take care of you if you need it."

Lance's eyes softened and he even smiled a little bit at Nick. "Thank you. I know I'll make it through, but I know it's gonna hurt a lot, hanging in on and keeping my body in the position it needs to be in. I think a lot of us might be in rough shape when we get through But we'll all make it. Still ... it would be nice to know what we're gonna run into on the outside. But whatever it is, it's better than staying here."

"*Anything* is better than staying here," Nick agreed fervently. "And do you know what the worst part was? I mean, besides the fact that I was kidnapped and tortured and changed, you know. There wasn't anything to do. Nothing. All I could do was walk in circles and listen to the screaming and laughing." He chuckled a little, though it didn't sound like humor. "I'm surprised we're all not more crazy than we are. No matter what we run into outside, at least it will be interesting."

"I think most of us *are* a little crazy," murmured Lance, looking at the people around him. "We're just all civilized because we're around each other now." He took another sip of the tea and gave Nick a sidelong glance. "You really didn't think about leaving me behind?" he asked him hesitantly. "After you found out? Because it seemed like ... it seemed like you wished you could."

Nick flushed a dark pink. "I wasn't thinking about that then. At all, I mean...getting out, with or without you, I wasn't thinking about that at all. I wanted to get AWAY..." He trailed off, shaking his head and ducking his face. "You were making my head all confused, and telling me things I was sure were lies, but Lance...I already knew how smart and nice and good you are, so it really messed up my head. But I would never leave you here, I never even thought about it."

"Okay," said Lance, and he had to believe him. He had to trust these people he was with, even the ones he suspected of hating him. His mother had always told him that he couldn't be liked by everyone, but he'd always at least tried. And Nick had come a long way already. "I hope ... I hope you're able to sort all that stuff out. I think things'll be a lot easier for you then. I should ... we need to share this tea with everyone else. I need to get up again."

"No, you don't," Nick corrected him, the slightly bossy protective voice coming out for the first time since Lance's revelation. "You need to sit and rest and save your strength. Kevin too, and the other new ones when they get back. It's hard enough on us who've been here for a month or more; you guys need to rest as much as you can before we go. In fact." He took the pitcher and looked around, then frowned. "I think Chris shredded our bed, but you should still try to sleep."

Lance shook his head, even though he thought that was the best idea he'd heard all day. Especially when the tea started kicking in and the pain-ache started to fade again. "We're going to need more tea, when that batch is gone." Except Nick already knew perfectly well how to make the tea, and fire probably wasn't going to be a problem for them ever again. "And there's stuff to do." But actually there wasn't, the stream was just there, the rope was made, they were all pretty much just killing time now until night fell. "Should I go back to our own courtyard, do you think?"

Nick stood and stretched, carefully, and sighed. "I think we all should, probably. Look as normal as possible, just in case, you know? There's nothing more to do, except make more tea, and they can make some here while we're making some there, and that'll be lots. It's not like we can help JC and AJ, or anything. I don't know if we'll be able to get *them* to separate, though." He was looking in the direction of the group, where Chris had an arm around Joey, despite the fact that Justin was sitting as close to Joey as possible. Kevin was talking quietly to them both, his eyes unwavering on Justin's face. "But we should try. Kevin looks like he's about to fall down."

"I think we'll just have to hope that our keepers don't do anything more than they normally do, make sure the doors are secure and leave some food. I don't remember them ever really looking around. Of course, I haven't been here long ... " The people who had done this to them seemed to have no interest in any of them, until they were healed up and could do what they needed them to do. At this point in time, that was a blessing. Lance also suspected that their keepers wanted to distance themselves as much as they could from their "creations", as if looking at them would remind them just what they'd done. Of course, that was assuming that they had a conscience. "I'm going to need some help over," he admitted.

"Me too, probably, though coming down the other side won't be too big a deal," Nick said, with a flash of wry humor. "Though I should probably rest, since I'm going to be jumping off a much bigger wall tonight..." He looked up at the big outer wall and shivered. "Justin can help. He doesn't burn, and he isn't really hurting, and he's strong and big. It'll be okay."

He turned and started walking towards the small group, giving Lance a stern glance over his shoulder. "You just stay there till we're ready. Rest."

Lance nodded his head obediently and even closed his eyes as he waited. He hadn't really let himself realize until then just how draining the whole experience so far had been. His body hurt, his head hurt, and he was just physically and emotionally exhausted. Nick was right, he needed to take his rest where he could, and he knew his mother would have agreed with that. She'd probably be standing over him right now if she could, calling him a stubborn, stubborn boy and forcing him to take his medicine and then tucking him into bed. He let that thought comfort him, as much as it could.

***

Nick fidgeted. The night air was cool on his bare body, but he didn't pay much attention; he was listening too closely for the sounds that meant they were out, they were safe. It was strange, being alone, really alone, again. There wasn't a single sound beyond the ripple of the stream and an occasional far-off splash, and he clenched and unclenched his hands nervously, staring blindly into the dark. Surely they wouldn't forget about him, leave him here in the quiet emptiness. They'd remember, Lance would make them. He shied away from that thought, not wanting to distract himself with thoughts of Lance.

Finally the signal came, a rock knocking quietly against the wall near where he was standing on the pile of rocks that was as big as they could make it in such a rush. It lifted him a good fifteen feet off the ground, but there was twice that much wall left to cover. Nervously, he grabbed the rope. Sent a brief prayer to his angels to help him, and tugged. The tug back was immediate, and sent pain pulsing through his shoulders, despite the tea he'd gulped before watching them all vanish into the stream.

Nick got up to the top of the wall through what felt like sheer will power, but was a combination of them tugging and him pulling himself up and walking up the side of the wall. He tried to stay as quiet as he could, but he couldn't help letting out the occasional grunt or mild cry of pain. He only found brief respite when he was finally standing atop the wide wall and staring out at the world outside.

He didn't think he'd ever been here before, he didn't recognize *anything* not for as far as he could see. They were in the middle of a plain, edged by forest in the distance and he was certain that was where they'd already decided to head, balancing the need for secrecy with the danger of setting the whole thing on fire. AJ and Chris were the ones at the base of the wall pulling him, with Joey hovering nearby in case they needed him. Nick threw down the rope to them after he'd waved to signal he was there, and okay. He was on his own now, and it was a long way down.

He could see a knot of other people and couldn't see Lance and hated himself for worrying so quickly whether Lance was okay, when the accompanying worry for Kevin was a long way behind it.

"Okay, Nick, just do it," came Chris's voice. "We all made it here okay, now come join us." As if he had any choice now. It was jump to freedom or jump back into captivity and that wasn't a choice at all. He took a deep breath and gritted his teeth and stepped off the wall.

His wings spread as if in reflex, still such a strange feeling, and he let a little scream past his clenched teeth as they caught the air and yanked him back against the pull of gravity. He had no idea what he was doing, it was too far, he was going too fast...clenching every muscle in his body, he tilted them forward a little, and his fall slowed. He was gliding, he realized, in a giddy haze as the light of JC and Joey and Kevin and the rest grew bigger rapidly. He wanted to see if he could flap his wings, really fly, but the agony already rippling through his back made that an impossibility. It was all he could do not to just fold them up and plummet.

"Look out," he managed to gasp, his eyes blurring in the wind but still able to see that he was in danger of crashing into the little group. They scattered, or he thought they did, and then the ground was rushing up at him and he hit so hard he bounced, rolling once before lying sprawled on his side, gasping for breath.

"Nick, Nick, are you okay?" His eyes weren't open, but he would recognize Lance's voice anywhere now.

"Lance, no, sit back down." That was Chris. "No, Lance! Sit down, let us take care of this, you need to rest. Nick, kid, you looked fantastic, you feel all right?"

"I can't imagine how that could feel all right," said AJ. "All the poison tea in the world couldn't make up for that, I think. But hell, that *was* magnificent. You should've seen yourself."

Nick really, really wanted to tell them all to shut up, and opened his eyes and his mouth to do just that, but the faces that came into focus when he did were so concerned that he couldn't bring himself to snap at them. Even when he was in pain.

"There you go," said Chris, suddenly grinning at him. "See? We knew you could do it. Can you walk? We have a long way to go."

"Wheee...neeee...minnit..." he wheezed, hoping someone would understand. He felt like there was no air in him anywhere, like his lungs were flat as pancakes.

"He came from heaven," an unfamiliar soft voice said, filled with awe. "See, JC? Proof that we're divine after all. Humans can't fly, will never fly. But this one is a true angel. Just as we are, blessed to be more than what we were born to."

"Funny how the true angel is laying on the ground sucking wind like a bellows," Chris snapped. "We can give you a minute, Nick, but no more. We've gotta move, and we're carrying Lance, so you're going to have to get tough, here, okay?"

"Carrying Lance?" He finally got a deep breath, ignored the pain that was threatening to short out his brain, and pushed up to one elbow, staring at AJ's glowing patterned face, since it was clearest to him in the dark. "Whatsamatter with Lance?"

AJ actually had the nerve to smirk at him, or maybe it was just his natural expression. "The swim out here took a lot out of him. It's faster to carry him right now than have him try to walk it. But we can't carry two, especially not you, you hulking brute, so I sure hope you can walk."

Nick sure hoped so too, as he pulled himself right up to a sitting position, his wings splayed out behind him. It was a little easier to breathe that way, and he was starting to think he hadn't actually broken anything after all.

"Atta boy," said Chris cheerfully. "Just think, Nick, we're out. And I gotta ask you ... you happen to see anything useful while you were way up in the air just now? Because we're kinda just winging it right now. No pun intended."

Nick rolled his eyes, then sighed, bracing himself to stand. "There's woods that way," he tilted his head. "But other than that there's nothing around here at ALL. Just a lot of grass, we're in the middle of some kind of plain." He winced at the disappointment on Chris's face. "Sorry. I was kind of looking at the ground a lot."

"We *really* have to work on your landings." JC's voice, amused and warm. "But Nick, wow, you were kind of flying, huh? How did it feel? Was it incredible?"

"It was very fast," Nick said honestly, pushing himself to his feet and promptly staggering sideways into AJ. "And it hurt a lot," he added, clinging to AJ as his world swayed dizzyingly. "Lance, you okay? Where are you?" He saw a pale smear against the ground that might have been Lance's wings, but could just as easily have been Justin.

"Nick, no, he's okay," said Chris, stopping him. "He'll be okay. He had lots of tea before we left, remember? As much as he dared. He'll make it." Except they were *carrying* him which meant he wasn't exactly making it very well. His first couple of steps were awkward and staggering, and AJ held him back from making any more.

"Okay," said AJ. "We've got to get moving here. We need to reach those woods, and further, if we can. If that's the only thing in sight around here, they're going to know we were headed there. Is everyone ready to go?"

"As ready as we can be." Nick turned, recognizing Joey's voice this time. "Lance says he needs a sewing needle, he wanted me to ask if we have anything around here that could be used as one."

"No," Nick answered automatically, eyes still searching the dark for signs of Lance. All he could see were the bright spots of flaming hair, and eyes, and hands. "Unless...my mother used to pare down chicken feathers to do some rough sewing. I guess you could take a feather." He was talking to distract himself from walking, which was only getting marginally easier with each step. He was still leaning on AJ, too, and just hoped the guy didn't make any sudden moves. Nick had had enough encounters with the ground for one night. As he took halting, slow steps, he could sense the others moving around him.

"We couldn't take a feather from an angel." Another unfamiliar voice, this one strangely accented, and sounding scandalized. Nick guessed the true believers had been coaxed out. "That would be blasphemy, to use a holy feather for something as menial as a needle."

"Please shut up, Brian," AJ invited cordially. "Lance, what do you want the needle for anyway? It's not like we have a lot of sewing lying around needing to be done."

There was a moment of silence, then Joey said, "He says he wants to-- oh Lance, you don't have to do that."

"What? What did he say?" demanded AJ, so Nick didn't have to.

"He says he wants to make gloves and hoods for us, from the torn cloth," said Joey. "He says if we insist on carrying him, he can at least be using his hands to do some good."

"We don't need to take a feather from you, Nick," said Chris after a moment of silence. "You dropped a few on your landing." He gathered them up and tucked them in the waist of his pants. "Are we ready to go?"

"Yeah," someone grunted--it sounded like Kevin--and Nick heard footsteps all around as they started walking.

It was the longest walk of his life. He'd maybe pulled a muscle in his side on the landing, and he'd *definitely* strained muscles in his back on his glide, and every step sent a jolt of pain up his shoulders. AJ had an arm looped around his waist, and despite the fact that Nick towered over him, he found himself dropping more and more weight on that arm. AJ never complained, though, only murmuring comments on the footing back to the others. Nick realized that they were matching pace to his own hobbling steps, and felt like crying.

"Okay, need a break," came a breathless voice from behind them, and Nick craned his head back, finally seeing the rest of the group. Justin had Lance on his back, making him look like a strange two-headed creature with small wings, and he staggered a little and set Lance down heavily, bending to stretch his back. "Sorry, sorry. He's heavier than he looks."

"He's the only one who can carry him," AJ muttered, tugging Nick to a stop. "Well, Chris and Kevin probably could, they're less hot for some reason. But Kevin's barely walking and Chris is small."

"I said I'd be willing to walk myself," said Lance, and finally Nick could see him, see how he was doing. "I'm not bleeding so much anymore, and Justin can only carry me for so long." After a comment like that, with the bleeding, there was no way Nick wasn't checking him out. Just ... to make sure he was okay. He let go of AJ's waist and started back toward him, and promptly feel to his knees when forced to rely solely on his own strength.

"Dammit, Nick, what are you trying to do?" asked AJ, retrieving him and getting him to his feet again. "We're making good progress here, we don't need anyone hurting themselves any more than they already are. We can make those trees long before dawn at this rate, and then some if we can keep going."

"I want to see Lance," Nick argued stubbornly. "He's bleeding and I want to make sure he's okay." He was determined, now, and tugged a little at AJ. "We can go see him, he's just sitting there while Justin rests. We'll be here a couple of minutes."

"You ever thought of resting yourself?" AJ's voice was dry, and he resisted Nick's superior weight for a moment. "Sit down, take a load off. And a mighty heavy load it is. What were they feeding you, growing up?"

"Don't argue with him, Aje," Chris's voice drifted out of the darkness, somewhere near a set of glowing hands. "He's in full hen mode, by the expression on his face. Gee, night vision is fun."

"I'm okay, Nick," said Lance finally, because Nick sure as hell wasn't going to believe it until he heard it from Lance's own mouth. And even then, he pretty much didn't. "I'm just a little torn up, it's okay. They cleaned up. I really can walk, you know."

"No you can't," insisted AJ, finally letting Nick go so he could stumble-limp to Lance's side. "Okay boys, you have three minutes, then we're moving again. I mean it."

"Yeah, because you've got a watch to check," someone grumbled, and AJ snarled back, and Nick ignored them all, skirting a few sitting figures on his way to Lance. He finally got there and sank to the ground at Lance's side, reaching for his arm, needing assurance that he was there, and alive, and breathing. Lance's skin was hot under his fingers, almost feverish, and he jumped when Nick touched him. Nick was strangely breathless, and didn't want to think about it.

"Are you okay?" He reached for Lance's face with his other hand, almost glad he couldn't see the expression on it. "Tell the truth, now. I'm not bleeding, much, and I can barely walk at all, so it must be ten times worse for you. Is Justin being careful enough with you?"

"Hey," an indignant young voice from the side of him. "I'm being as careful as I can." He was hushed by a soft whisper that sounded a lot like Joey.

"I'm okay," insisted Lance. "It doesn't hurt any worse than it always did, but I guess it looks bad, and they're worried about me tearing things and losing blood or something. And ... " He chuckled unexpectedly. "It's *itchy* again. And it feels hot. So I guess I'm probably healing up all right." Nick wanted to examine him personally, but it was too dark. "Justin's being very good, and he's really amazingly strong, to be lugging me around like that. We're lucky he's here."

"It's predestination, that he's here," someone in the distance said, and was promptly shushed.

"Honest, Nick, I'll survive. Are *you* okay? I saw you fly down from the wall ... "

"It was more of a controlled fall, really," Nick sighed, glad to hear that Lance was okay, but still not removing his hand from his arm. "Definitely not flying, it was all I could do to just keep my wings out. But I guess it worked, mostly. I'm okay."

"So okay he can barely walk," AJ put in brightly, and snickered. "I think we should swap Lance for Nick, Nick's bigger and so is Justin. Or better yet, Justin could carry me."

"Yeah, but you're not actually *carrying* Nick, and you don't need a lift anyway" Kevin pointed out, sighing. Nick just kept ignoring them all, and patted Lance's arm hesitantly. "Hang in there," he whispered. "We should be getting close to the woods now."

"I hope so," Lance whispered back. "We'll get to rest there for more than a few minutes, and maybe i can find some roots if we're lucky, though the stream went off in the other direction, where all those low bushes are. And then they would have to let me walk. Poor Justin, I must be breaking his back."

If Nick had any say it in, Lance wouldn't be walking until he was good and healed, but he *didn't* have much say in it so all he could do was encourage Lance to wait until he at least wasn't bleeding anymore. Which he was, still, a little.

"I hope we find some food in the woods, too," Lance added. "I'm hungry."

"Oh, you had to mention food?" That was definitely Joey groaning, though Nick's belly rumbled warningly as well. "Did anyone bring any?"

"There was nothing we could bring through the water, nothing to seal the food in," Kevin snapped. "Don't think we didn't try to think of something. We're all hungry, we'll just have to figure something out when we get a little more distance between us and them."

"I can hunt," Nick volunteered suddenly, thrilled that he could possibly be useful. "I did, during the famine, to keep food on the table. It'll be hard without a bow, but I can make a sling with some cloth and a rock. And if there's water there might be fish." Though feeding ten grown men might strain his ingenuity and luck more than a little.

"And if there's any kind of town there might be pies cooling on windowsills," AJ said, hunger in his voice. "Gods, pie. I miss pie."

"I know what's edible and what's not, in the woods," Lance offered. "Between me and Nick, we'll be okay, with or without pie."

"It's not much of a life without pie," grumbled AJ. "It better taste better than that poison root of yours."

"Just about anything would," said Chris. "Okay, It's time to go again. Lovefest over. Everyone on your feet. Except Lance, you stay off yours."

"Lance gets to ride while the rest of us trudge," Justin sighed, hauling Lance to his feet. "Life's just not fair."

"Hey." Nick frowned into the darkness, pushing himself painfully to his own feet and reaching for AJ. "You're not bleeding and scarred and falling down, either."

"Hi, kidding," Justin said. "I'm the one carrying him, remember? I get to make nasty remarks, it helps me forget about my back. That and thinking about the pretty angel riding my back. Joey doesn't mind, do you Joe?"

Whether or not Joey did, *Nick* did, and heard himself growl and jerk forward--he had no idea why--until he was caught by AJ's firm hand.

"*O*-kay, that's enough. March, team!"

Nick was *not* going to think about why he'd just done that, he wasn't, he was just going to put one foot in front of the other until they got where they were going. And he wasn't going to think about anything at all.

"You know that Justin is devoted to Joey," said AJ, spoiling that plan. "I mean, I'm sure, even to you, that much is obvious."

Nick was just grateful that the night hid his red face. What had gotten into him? "Whatever," he said to AJ, his voice constricted with the effort to sound uncaring. "I don't care at all. I'm just worried about Lance, is all. I want to make sure Justin's concentrating on not dropping him." He actually sped up a little bit, wanting to get as far away as possible from the people behind them. A little extra pain was a small price to pay. Gods only knew what they were thinking.

"Stop, no, stop that," said AJ, and he was strong enough to tug Nick back. "You'll fall. Don't be an idiot, Nick. I don't know what's going on between you and Lance and I'm not gonna ask, but you've gotta relax about it. Justin's taking good care of him. He's not gonna drop him. However, if *you* tried, you would. So just let it go. We'll take a break once we're safely into the woods and you can see him again."

"I don't want to see him again," Nick sulked, though he did slow down. "There's nothing going on between me and Lance, I'm not like that, I'm not. He's just a good friend, I know what he's going through and I want to make sure he's okay. I remember how tough the first week was...I can't believe he's done as much as he has already. I'm just worried, is all." He took a couple more steps. "Why do you think there's something going on with us?"

AJ just shrugged; Nick wouldn't have been able to even see it if AJ hadn't been so close. "Never said anything about *what* was going on," he reminded him. "Lance is a tough kid, he really is. He doesn't let it show when he's hurting, not really. Only when he really reaches the breaking point. So. You holding up okay, Nick?"

"'Course," Nick blustered. "I've been here longer than practically everyone, I've had much more time to heal. Once I get over that little crash, I'll be all set. No trouble at all." As if to prove him a liar, he stumbled a little and had to cling harder to AJ.

"Careful, Nick." That voice from behind him had to be Chris. "If you take a header we might step on you, and then you'd be in some real pain. We've got some heavyweights back here."

"Yeah, and you don't want me to singe those pretty wings," JC put in. "And if I tripped over you and fell, that would be bad, so be careful." Nick almost wished JC was still too busy crying to say anything.

"Nick," said AJ sharply. "Whatever's messing you up right now, get over it, okay? We still have a lot to do, and we need you functional." He sighed loudly. "Kids. Always trying to push themselves too far, too fast. You and Lance both."

"What are you talking about? I'm not messed up." Nick straightened carefully. "I'm totally functional here, I'm getting better every step. I'd like to see *you* walk a thousand miles after jumping off a huge wall like that."

"It's not a thousand miles," Kevin said tiredly. "More like ten. And you have wings, don't forget."

"Wings that don't work," Nick shot back, grateful to be distracted from AJ and his little comments and his damn smug knowingness. AJ didn't know anything, that was all. Then he realized that everyone behind them could hear their conversation, and bit his lip, feeling his face go hot again.

Everyone behind them included Lance, and things were complicated *enough* with Lance, and Nick just wasn't going to talk about it anymore, with anyone. Not until he had everything sorted out in his head and ... no, not even then. He didn't have to think about it, it was nothing that needed to be thought about.

"I'd make the joke about seeing the smoke coming out of yours ears," said AJ, "but that would be a little tasteless with this crowd. Just keep going, Nick. Just keep going, everyone. We're almost there now, I think?"

"Yes," Chris confirmed. "We're almost there."

"Good thing," someone grumbled--Joey? "If we had to walk much longer, Nick's entire *leg* would be down his mouth." Someone shushed him, but not before Nick cringed and stumbled and wished he could disappear. He found himself wishing he was back in his courtyard, safe and familiar and free from these confusing thoughts and this humiliation.

"Be nice, Joey," Justin scolded breathlessly, and Nick flinched again to know that Lance was so close. He resolved right then that he'd never speak again.

"I'll need those feathers when we get there," said Lance, his voice disturbingly soft amid the others. "I need to make those garments as soon as I can. You are all more visible than you know, and we'll need to go into peopled places and you'll need to be safe."

"You cannot use those feathers for something as mundane as sewing needles," came one of the voices Nick didn't know well at all. "They're sacred."

"Then my sewing will be just as sacred," Lance shot back. "I do no think you god would begrudge us a few feathers to get some necessary work done."

"They're my feathers anyway," Nick murmured under his breath, too quiet for anyone but AJ to hear. "They're not a bit sacred. At least if Lance uses them they'll be useful for *something*."

"Nick says they're his feathers, not sacred, and he wants Lance to use them," AJ called back cheerfully. "So there you go, straight from the angel's mouth. I've got to tell you, you people with the fire really do stand out at night. Lance's idea is a good one."

"I will not hide the holy fire!" The voice was scandalized. "That would be the worst kind of blasphemy."

"Then the people who see it will probably kill you," said Lance matter-of-factly. "Kill you or run away from you. Because without any endorsement, and without all of us standing next to you, you're going to look like an abomination, not a holy icon."

That made everyone fall silent for a long while. Nick knew it to be true, had always known it to be true. It was one of -- but not the only, anymore -- reason he could never go home. But that didn't make it comfortable to hear it.

"If nothing else," said JC finally, "they'll keep us from setting the forest on fire."

"Attaboy, JC," Chris said fondly. "Look on the bright side for us." For another long moment there was no sound but their footsteps in the dark, and then a chuckle. "So to speak," Chris added, sounding choked by laughter.

"Gods, Chris, it's not funny!" But there was a smile in JC's voice too. "Well, I guess it kind of is. But still."

Something had been bothering Nick, and he leaned a little closer to AJ. "Tell Lance he's not allowed to sew, blasphemy or not, till he's rested, till we all have, when we get to the woods," he murmured. "Otherwise he'll just sit up and sew while we all sleep, and never get any rest at all."

"Lance doesn't listen to me," said AJ with a shrug. "Sorry, kid. You want to try to convince him to rest, you're probably going to have to do it yourself. You're the only one who can tame that stubborn streak of his, when he gets going. If he wants to sew all night, he's damn well going to, I'm afraid." Not if Nick had anything to say about it.

A few minutes later, they finally passed into some sparse trees and thicker underbrush.

"We need to be careful now," said Chris, unnecessarily.

"Joey, no!" JC's voice squeaked in panic, and there was a rustling sound, and a sigh of relief. "If you need to push a branch away, yell and I'll do it for you, and you watch my hair, okay? Brian, you too."

"It's gonna be pretty easy to find us." The unfamiliar voice was almost amused, Nick thought it was the one someone had called Howie. "They'll just have to follow the trail of forest fires."

"That sewing idea of Lance's might be a good one. Otherwise we're not going to be able to sleep, even, without setting fires." Joey's voice again. "Justin can sew, too. We've got to do something about the fires, quickly; it's more important than just hiding what we are."

"Exactly," said Lance. "Let's set down here for a little while. It won't be a very good job, but it'll do for the moment, and when we have some more time I can make something more permanent. Justin, you can help me?"

"Just tell me what to do, and I can," Justin assured him. "It'll feel good, to be doing something."

"Here," said Chris, handing over the discarded feathers. "I'd be useless, so I'm just gonna stay out of your way unless you need something. All right?" Lance nodded his head and took the feathers and started stripping them, to the indignant gasp of the one that called himself Brian.

"You can't do this! I forbid it!"

"Oh, forbid *this*," said AJ, making an obscene gesture at him.

"AJ!" Kevin barked as Brian gasped. "That's not necessary. Calm down, grab a needle, and do something useful. Justin, put Lance down here, there's a little clearing. And nobody touch anything flammable." He tugged Brian aside and started speaking to him in a low, urgent voice.

Even Nick had to admit that having hoods and gloves was more important than Lance resting, though the more people helping him the better. He himself couldn't do much but untwist and untie the fabric that had gone into making the rope. He sat as close to Lance as he dared, given his embarrassing revelations earlier. The whole scene was dimly lit by hair and hands, so at least he could see the knots his fingers picked at.

"Well, this is tons of fun," Justin said brightly, sucking on a bloodied finger. "Stupid feathers. Sorry, Lance."

"I need another set of hands here," said Lance, and given their situation it was apt phrasing. "I need someone to unravel this piece of fabric into threads. It's coarse enough that it shouldn't be hard." He was busy shaping the shaft of one of Nick's feathers into a rough needle with a rock. It was slow going, but he knew what he was doing. "I might've actually done better with a metal hook, but odds are we have none of those, huh?" He didn't even had to wait for an answer.

"I hope we find some place to stay the night soon," whispered Justin, out of earshot of Chris and AJ, the two big motivators. "Everything's tired, my head and my eyes and my heart ... "

"Here." Nick handed him a piece of cloth. "Unravel that, it'll make this go faster, and then we can rest." He knew what Justin was talking about; he was exhausted and aching, body and soul, and couldn't think of anything he wanted more than to just collapse and forget about everything for a while. "You'll feel better after we sleep a little, I bet. And you've been carrying Lance...thanks, Justin."

"Aw, well." Justin shrugged, taking the cloth and starting to pick it apart. "We couldn't just leave him. He's not SO heavy." Even out of the corner of Nick's eye, Justin's smile was blindingly bright.

"I'm going to look kind of funny in a hood," JC declared, sitting close enough to provide light. "I'm not sure I like that idea."

"Better than being the human torch," said Chris. "Cept when we need it, which, generally speaking, we won't. Be sensible, JC, the hood will let you move through populated areas. Now Nick ... jeez, kid, what are we going to do about you?"

"Someone's going to buy him a robe. Or steal one or something," said Lance. "He doesn't need the fireproof material like the rest of you."

"We will not be resorting to *stealing*!"

"Oh, for the love of all that's holy in this world will you SHUT UP," AJ burst out.

"It's for the love of all that's holy that I *won't* shut up!" Came the indignant answer. "It's clear that you don't understand the grace of what's happened to us, but even if so, stealing is wrong under any conditions."

"I'm gonna kill him," AJ growled, and only settled when Justin put a hand on his arm. "Fine. I'll kill him later."

"It might not work anyway," Nick said softly, hoping to derail the tension. "My wings are already wider than my shoulders, and they're getting bigger. Even with a cloak, and with the wings tied down, I'll look like a freakishly huge hunchback or something, hardly discreet. Until we get somewhere safe I might just have to stay behind." He left unspoken the idea that he'd probably be leaving them soon; he didn't want to hear Lance's insincere protests or have to fight the others on the point.

"But it'll do for now," said Lance. "I'm going to have the same problem soon, too. They've already grown since I first felt them yesterday. I don't know .... we should probably talk about what we're going to do next. Where we're going from here, now that we're out."

"Wow," breathed Chris suddenly, as if just realizing it. "We're out. We're really out of that place." He took a deep breath of the night air and looked like he wanted to shout for joy. "We can do anything now."

Not anything, thought Nick. There were a lot of things they couldn't do now, and they were only just starting to realize it. But they were free, and that was the important thing, for the moment.

"I want to go home," Justin said plaintively. "Back to me and Joey's little house. Joey's family will be so happy to see us, and we can live there together, once we figure out a way to make the fires go out, and stuff. I like our house."

"I do too, baby," Joey said tiredly. "But I think maybe we'd better stick with these guys for now, huh? The two of us showing up might be a little much for our village to take." Nick could see the aborted movement as he went to reach for Justin's hand; apparently some habits were harder to break than others. He bent his head and ripped hard at the threads in the cloth, handing them to Lance as they came free.

"I don't care where we go as long as it's got food," JC sighed. "And a real mirror. I want to see what I look like, for real."

"Me too," Justin said quietly.

"I don't," murmured Lance, and Nick almost believed him. "I don't want to know what I look like now; I don't want to see what they've done to me. Feeling it is enough."

"How do we know we can make the fires go out?" asked Chris suddenly. "Can't smother 'em. Water doesn't work. We don't even know what they're burning."

"The fires of god burn eternally," proclaimed Brian, and Nick was wishing they'd just left him behind after all.

"Okay, all right, fine," said Chris. "Fine! Brian, come with me. You and me need to have a little talk ... "

"Lance, you don't look bad," Nick said, over the sound of Chris tugging Brian to his feet and dragging him away from the group. "You look mostly like you used to, I bet, only with wings. Wings aren't so strange, really. Lots of birds have them, for example."

"Not so many people, though," AJ pointed out. "Sorry, Nick, but it's true. Me, now. I look like some maniac went crazy with paint and...glowing stuff, and THAT is strange. I'm gonna need head-to-toe covering, if I ever want to look normal again."

"At least people can look at you." Nick had noticed that Justin had been keeping his head down, as if to hide his face. "I can't believe it makes peoples' eyes hurt to look at me. That's so terrible. I used to like being pretty."

"Baby, it doesn't matter if I can look you in the eye anymore," said Joey softly, and Nick felt like he was intruding on a private moment. But then, everyone else had intruded on his. "You'll always be the most beautiful person in the world to me. Don't you forget that."

"How *are* we gonna end this?" asked Lance, so softly that Nick suspected he was the only one who could hear. "I don't think we can reverse this, Nick. Not without ... cutting them off. And even then, I'm not so sure they won't just grow back."

"Oh gods, you think?" Nick whispered back, looking away from Justin and Joey, and ignoring AJ, who was making little "awww" sounds at the couple. "I was thinking we could cut them off as a last resort, but not if they're just going to grow back; I'm not going through that." He glanced around. "And what about them, with the flames? Nothing's put them out so far. We don't even know how they DID any of this."

"We need more information," Kevin said, and Nick realized his voice had risen at the end. "We need to now what they did and how, to find out if there's any way to end it. Otherwise we're just guessing."

"They must have used magic," insisted Lance. "I know that they used medicine too, they cut us up to do this, but you can't make a human being grown wings, or burn, without magic. You just can't, it's not possible." That sounded like a pretty firm conviction to Nick, especially since Lance actually stopped sewing long enough to look up and meet his eyes when he said it.

Then, in the moment of silence that followed, he bowed over his work again and finished off what he was doing. "Joey, take these. They're basically mittens, but they'll do for now, okay? Go ahead, take 'em. Touch your boy, already."

"Oh my gods, Lance," Justin breathed, as Joey reached for the mittens with shaking eager hands. "Lance, thank you so much..." He threw himself at Joey, clearly not considering the lesser heat of the rest of his skin, and as clearly, to Nick, not caring. Joey's mittened hands came up and stroked down the elegant length of his back, and there were more soft whispers, and Nick had to look away.

"Can they have..." he realized he'd spoken aloud, but only Lance seemed to have heard. He dropped his voice to a whisper anyway. "Do you think they can...I don't know how it works anyway, but are their" he gestured vaguely at his groin. "Is that hot too, do you think?"

"I don't know," admitted Lance, watching them out of the corner of his eye. "Maybe if it was really fast, maybe then they could. I don't think they'll be able to touch each other for that long, even with the mittens. But it's more than they had before." He watched them for another moment, then looked away and reached for another piece of cloth and started all over again.

"Do me next?" asked JC eagerly. "Oh, I want to go for a walk in the trees. Please?"

"JC, we've just been walking for hours," AJ said in disbelief. "I can't believe you want to go walking in the trees. Rest, for heavens' sake. What's wrong with you people?"

"Nothing's WRONG with me," JC protested. "It's just that it's nice to be able to walk around as far as I want, and never see any walls. And the trees out here are nice...I only had little bushes in my place."

AJ stared at him for a moment, then reached out and tousled his hair, pulling fire through his fingers. "Just don't go too far, okay? We don't want to lose you."

"You won't lose me," said JC, grinning at him. "I won't go far, promise. And if I get lost, all I have to do is take my hood off and you can find me. It'll be okay."

"I still don't like it," grumbled AJ, but he let him go and JC bounced eagerly to Lance's side.

"It won't take long, right?" said JC. "Because hoods are easier than mittens."

"They're also bigger," said Lance, getting himself another piece of thread. "If you watch, you can learn how to do it, too."

"Really, all he needs is a big handkerchief type thing," Nick said, watching them both. "He can tie it around his head and it'll cover all his hair. So you don't have to sew too much. You do realize, though, that we're losing our main source of light when we give him that?" Joey's hands were gloved and still stroking Justin's skin, though Justin was flinching lightly now; Brian was far away, and Howie was sitting quietly on the outskirts of their little clearing. Nick waved at him. "Hey. Hi, Howie. You want to come over, be a candle, join the family?" Howie hadn't said much, but he hadn't been as annoying as Brian, either, and he looked sweet enough.

"I could really use your help right now," said Lance, his voice softer than Nick's. Soft and deep and gentle. "I'm just making something to protect us, and protect the land around us. Nothing to change what we are."

Even before Lance had said that, though, Howie started moving toward them. "Everyone needs light," he said simply once he got to Lance's side, and then knelt there to give him lots of light for his work.

"Thank you," said Lance, and gave him a smile, and quickly got to work on the simple hood.

Nick smiled at him too, not wanting to say anything that might upset the precious peace. Even AJ was sitting quietly, resting with his eyes closed. The murmur of Chris and Brian's voices rose and fell, and Nick watched Lance work. Until he noticed the circles like bruises under his eyes, the too-pale skin, and the tremor in his hands.

"Justin," he called softly. Justin and Joey had stopped touching long minutes ago. "Justin, c'mere and take over the sewing for Lance? He needs to rest, and he's not getting any breaks here."

It still almost hurt to tear Justin away from Joey, but it had to be done. The way Lance was looking, this was where they were staying for the night. With any luck, it would take longer than that for their keepers to notice they were missing, they were so sure that the compounds were inescapable for people in their condition. After all, they never looked in too closely, just left food and water let them be to heal in peace.

Joey came over with Justin, one covered hand periodically touching him, just for a moment or two. "Okay," said Justin. "I've got it. I see what he's been doing here."

"I could use a little rest," admitted Lance, and Nick knew that if he was actually admitting it, it had to be pretty bad.

"C'mon." Lance looked bad enough that Nick felt justified taking his hand and pulling him a few wobbly steps away from the light, aware of AJ's sardonic eyes on them. "Now rest, before I have to sit on you." Daring greatly, he pulled Lance gently against his side, careful not to touch his back or any part of his shoulders, but forcing Lance to lean against him. "I'll keep an eye out for you, make sure the hoods and things are being made right," he murmured, a little unnerved by Lance's total silence.

"I'm really tired, Nick," he said finally, blinking a couple of times like his eyes really wanted to close for a while. "But ... I should've taken some time to look for roots ... there's so much to do." No, there wasn't, not for Lance. Someone else could look for roots while Lance slept. Nick would insist on it. "I hurt again, too." His voice dropped to a whisper. "I really hate this, Nick."

"I know. Me too." Nick was determinedly ignoring the pains in his own side and back and head. Lance was clearly in much worse shape. "Kevin and Chris know what the roots look like. You should just rest your eyes for a little bit, we can take care of things. There are lots of us now." He looked over to where Howie's bent head was lighting Justin, working away with Joey close at his side. "When you wake up, we'll have something for the pain. It'll all work out, Lance. We'll be okay."

"Would it be really weird?" asked Lance cautiously, "if I rested my head in your lap, as I napped? It doesn't .... it doesn't mean anything, I'm just sleepy and it looks so comfortable and I just ... I just wanna close my eyes for a little while, and ... " He looked up at Nick helplessly. Nick bit his lip a little. Lance leaning against his side was one thing, Lance's head in his lap...he found himself nodding anyway.

"Okay. You need to rest." When Lance paused, he tugged his hand, only then realizing he was still holding it. "Come on. I make a good pillow, I think. It's not weird at all. It would be bad if your hair was on fire, though."

He sighed as Lance folded down to the ground, his head pillowed on Nick's thigh, and Nick's hand rested in his short hair. Nick glared around impartially, just daring anyone to make a comment, but Chris had brought Brian back and was now talking with AJ, and Kevin was asleep too. JC was looking in their direction, but he wasn't too worried about JC. He dared to stroke Lance's hair lightly, leaning his shoulder against a tree, wishing his wings were shorter.

Lance adjusted himself so there was no pressure at all on his back, and breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you," he whispered. "I never realized how many muscles sitting up used until I had no choice but use them. Ow." There was no energy behind his declaration. "I'm just so *tired*. I've never felt like this before."

"Don't think about it," Nick murmured. "Try to just sleep for a while, you'll feel better when you wake up. Tomorrow everything'll be clearer, in the light." At the rate Justin was sewing, they really *would* be there for most of the night; Nick couldn't be sorry, the way Lance had looked. AJ and Chris were talking more urgently now, and looking in their direction; he caught AJ's eye and shook his head a little. No way was Lance going farther, and Nick would stay with him if AJ insisted that the others move on.

"Okay," AJ called. "Relax, we're staying here."

"Good," murmured Lance. "Stay here." This time when he blinked, his eyes closed, and to Nick's relief he was fast asleep moments later. He still looked so worn out, though, his face lined, eyes dark, and his back ... it didn't even bear thinking about.

"Oh good," said JC, his voice soft, crouching down next to Nick, but far enough away that he didn't feel too warm. "You got him to sleep. I was kind of worried that he wouldn't."

"Me too," Nick whispered, though from the way Lance's breathing had instantly deepened, he didn't think a lightning bolt would wake Lance. "In my third day with wings, I think I tried to stand up. But I'm not really sure. And he's been running around, trying to take care of everything. He actually wanted to get up and go look for roots." Nick shook his head in disbelief. "what a nut."

"He likes to take care of people," said JC, sitting down comfortably. "It makes him feel better, when he's able to do things, to make his situation better. To make everyone's situation better. He'd burn himself out if he wasn't too careful, though. It's good, that he has you to look out for him like that." And JC's voice sounded completely non-judgmental.

Nick just shrugged, a little uncomfortably, but smiling at the idea that he was taking care of Lance. Making a difference. His hand kept stroking Lance's hair. "He's got to slow down, though," he murmured. "He's not going to make it. JC." He looked into JC's eyes, hoping that JC could see his honesty. "If something happens to me, if I'm not around...can you make sure he rests? And doesn't give all the tea to the others, and eats enough? He'll never survive if someone isn't watching him."

"I don't know," said JC. "I think that guy's got a strong will to survive, even if he's too damn stubborn sometimes. Of course I'd look out for him, but nothing's gonna happen to you, Nick. What could happen to you, when we're all watching each other's backs? We need you. Are you looking out for yourself, too? How are your wings feeling?"

"They're sore, they're fine," Nick said, shaking his head impatiently. "I'm not...I'm not worried about dying or anything, I'm healing okay, I'm strong. But, you know. If we split up or something." He bit his lip, wondering how he was going to sneak away from the group with his wings marking his every motion. "You're a good guy, JC, I can tell. If you say you'll take care of him, I know you will." He smiled softly down at the sleeping head in his lap.

"He'd rather be taken care of by you," said JC quietly. "I know that's weird for you, but it doesn't have to be a big deal. It's safer if you take care of him, too. You're not going to, um, set him on fire by accident, or something."

"He barely knows me," Nick said defensively, though he kept his voice quiet. "He doesn't care if it's me or you, not really. And...yeah, well. Once you get your hood, you won't be setting him on fire either, unless you hold his hand for too long or something." He ignored the little pang he felt at the idea of beautiful JC and beautiful Lance holding hands. He wasn't like that, he wasn't, or he'd never ever ever be able to go home again. "It's not a big deal either way, JC."

JC stared at him for a long while, long enough to make Nick feel uneasy. "Why are you planning to leave us, Nick?" he asked finally. "What have we done to offend you?"

Nick blinked at him, shocked. "I'm not," he started automatically, but JC's clear, quiet eyes dried the words up before he could say them. He sighed, and rubbed his tired head. "You haven't offended me," he said quietly, finally. "You all are great, mostly. But me...my wings will just be in the way, they're so big, you know that. And...and I want to see my family..." before further exposure to Lance turned him into the monster they were probably scaring his cousins with.

JC just kept watching him, and looking sad. "Where will you go?" he asked. "Where will you go when you realize the world wasn't made for people like us, that we're better off together?"

"What can we do together, JC," Nick asked, feeling the frustration tighten in his chest. "Create a traveling sideshow? Light fires for people who have lost their flints? Hide in some far away place and never see anyone else ever again? If---if my family doesn't want me, I'll..." he had no idea, he didn't even want to think about it. He shrugged. "I'll fly away," he finished softly, ironically.

That just made JC look sadder. "I couldn't handle being alone again," he said. "I don't know why you would want that. I don't know what we're going to do, but at least we'll be together. At least we'll be with people who understand who we are and what we've been through. And Lance ... I don't think Lance could bear it if you left him now."

"Lance thinks I'm stupid," Nick contradicted quietly, though his hand never stopped combing through the fine strands of Lance's hair. "He thinks I'm stupid and he thinks I'm a boylover and he doesn't talk to me anymore. He barely knew me anyway. He won't miss me, not if he has someone else to look after him. And you said you would, you promised."

"If you left him, I would take care of him," JC assured him. "But you won't leave him, Nick. You can't. He doesn't think you're stupid, and he would miss you. Look where he is right now. And he ... he doesn't think you're a boylover, not after you made sure he knew w-what ... what you thought about people. Like that. Like most of us here."

"Just him and Justin and Joey," Nick corrected automatically, then blinked at JC. "What?" He stopped petting in his shock, and Lance murmured an unconscious protest. "Most of the people here? What are you talking about?"

"Him and Justin and Joey and Chris and AJ and me ... at the least," JC corrected him, looking nervous. "That's more than half. That's ... I don't know. Maybe something they were looking for, for whatever reason, when they picked us. I know that doesn't make you happy."

"Gods." Nick closed his eyes, trying to process that. "I didn't. Whoa. I can't." He shook his head, eyes still squinched shut tight. "My parents and my uncle and everyone I knew told me my whole life that boylovers would hurt me and my little brother, that it was evil and a sickness from devils," he finally got out in a rush, feeling lightheaded. "I don't know what to think any more, it's wrong but you all don't seem sick, Justin and Joey...they love each other so much, it's beautiful, and I just. It's so confusing, JC. I'm all mixed up in my head." He finally opened his eyes, and looked at JC desperately. "Now do you see why I've got to go home?"

JC shook his head, a few sparks escaping but flickering out before they hit the ground. "Your home doesn't seem like the kind of place I would want to be. They've told you all kinds of things that aren't true, and those things are making you upset now. But I guess you love them. I can understand that. What's true is that no one here is sick or evil, and Justin and Joey *do* love each other that much, and no one's going to hurt you, and ... and Lance would be very, very sad if you were gone."

"They're my *family*," Nick said, almost sadly. "Of course I love them, even if they...if they drive me away, or won't talk to me." He looked down at Lance's sleeping face, slack and still and showing his exhaustion. "I would be sad to leave him," he whispered, feeling safe telling it to JC. "He's so smart and good and handsome. I wish I was more like him, I hope he finds someone like Joey and Justin did." He shrugged at JC's startled expression. "I'm not...I can tell what love is when I see it, no matter what my parents told me." He ran his thumb over Lance's forehead, smoothing out the tired creases there.

"If you can really tell that, then you shouldn't leave," said JC firmly. "If you have to go home to your family, then at least let us all go. So when ... if ... something bad happens, you have somewhere to go. You'll have people that accept you. You'll have Lance there with you. He *is* that smart and good and handsome, and I think he'll find someone very soon."

"Yeah," Nick agreed miserably. "He's wonderful. Even if people think the wings are strange, who--who's like you, I mean--could say no to him?" He shook his head. "You can't come home with me, JC. They know me, they have to at least talk to me, let me explain. If we all showed up, though...and Justin and Joey..." He trailed off, imagining the reception the two of them would get. "It just wouldn't work, is all." "I didn't mean we should all show up at your door, Nick," he said, touching Nick's arm for just a moment. "But we could travel with you, and stay nearby. Until ... until we knew that everything was okay. Lance wouldn't settle for anything less, and Lance is stubborn. He would up and follow you, probably, if you tried to leave him behind. And probably hurt himself."

"Not if you were taking care of him," Nick said stubbornly, not really believing it anyway. "Lance will do what's good for the group, you know that. He'll see that if I go things will be easier. The whole point of me leaving--part of it, anyway--is that you can't hide me! Not when we're traveling. These things are just way too big, even under a cloak." He ruffled his feathers, moving strange new muscles instinctively. "I'll be okay. I'll...I'll convince my family that I'm okay."

"Lance is halfway in love with you, you stupid ... " began JC, then took a deep breath. "If he made up his mind to follow, there's none of us that could keep him from it. And that's just the truth, Nick. And if we can't find a way to hide you, then soon the same will be true of Lance. We'll find a way, for both of you."

"He is NOT!" Nick finally got enough air into his lungs to reply, feeling panic rise in him. "He's not, not in lo-...not that. He thinks I'm stupid, I heard him say so, and I was terrible to him yesterday. He just likes me because we both have wings. That's all." He wanted to get up and run away, but Lance was sleeping, and he couldn't wake him. "You can't tell him I'm leaving, JC. Maybe if I'm gone long enough before he notices, he won't follow..."

"He is, Nick," said JC gently. "Don't freak out, it's okay. He's as upset as he is *because* of how he feels about you. Because he knows that you can ... you can never feel that way about him. Because of what you told him about what you believe." JC nodded and bit his lip. "I'm very sure, Nick. As sure as I am that you really hurt him, even if you didn't mean to. And yet ... he's still here. Right here. Putting your welfare above his, most of the time. Oh, I'm very sure about how he feels about you. A-are ...are you okay with that? Are you going to get mad again?"

"I don't know," Nick said softly, helplessly confused. "I don't know what to think, I don't know what to do. I'm not mad, I don't think." After careful consideration, he could safely say that. "How can I get mad when he's so nice to me? I mean. I don't know if I'm *okay* with it, but I'm not mad." He looked down at Lance, sleeping peacefully through all this upheaval. "I'm just tired," he said wearily. "Tired of all this. I want to go home and have everything be back like it was."

"Nothing's going to go back to the way it was," said JC carefully. "You do understand that, right Nick? Nothing's ever going to be the same again, not for us. Not after this. Even if -- IF -- something could be done about the changes to our bodies, there are changes inside us now, too."

"No there's not," Nick said, on the brink of tears. It was all just too much, and his back hurt, and his head, and he wanted it to stop. "We'd all still be the same, 'cept I got to travel more than I ever have and met new kinds of people. Justin and Joey would be together, and you and AJ and Lance and Chris would still like boys, and we'd all go back to our regular lives. Only Brian and Howie would think they'd gotten to be angels for a while."

JC sighed and looked sad again. "Maybe you should get some sleep too, Nick," he said. "I'll watch over you guys. Just curl up with Lance and close your eyes and maybe you'll feel better about everything in the morning. Maybe then we can all start to face what's going on."

"What IS going on," Nick demanded. "What's going on, JC, because I have no fucking idea, and I need to know, because I don't think a couple hours of sleep is going to clear things up for me." He looked down at Lance again. "Anyway, I can't move or curl up, this is the only position Lance can be in that doesn't hurt him."

"Is it hurting you, though?" asked JC, and Nick could at least admit that that was genuine concern in his expression. "Are you okay, Nick? I don't want you to be sitting up talking to me if it's hurting you, no, I could never forgive myself for that, for being that selfish."

Nick rolled his eyes at JC, feeling a little better. JC could be so strange sometimes. "No, it's not hurting me," he said patiently. "If it was I'd be...I don't know, crying or yelling or something. I'm actually pretty comfortable. Talking to me isn't being selfish, if you weren't doing it I'd just be sitting here staring at the dark."

"Or staring at Lance," said JC. Nick's eyes shot up to look at him, but JC didn't seem to realize he'd said anything at all. "What's going on is ... is they've changed us. Into something they want to use. And ... and I don't know if we can change back again. It wouldn't be so awful, for us to all live together some place private. There are worse things in this world, and I've experienced at least some of them."

Nick sniffed. "Easy for you to say. You don't care that none of us are girls!" But it sounded weak, even to him, and he hurried on. "I...you don't think we can change back? But I don't really feel different, except my wings. I almost can't remember what it felt like not to have them, anyway."

"Do *you* really care that none of us are girls, Nick?" JC asked, and all Nick could hear in his voice was curiosity, and none of the condescending slant that he almost wished was there so he could lash back at it.

"Sure," he answered instead, uneasily. "Sure, of course. I'm supposed to get married, you know. Soon, even. Girls are great. To, you know, have sex with." Not that Nick would know from actual experience, but the way his uncle talked, he figured it had to be fantastic. "How're we gonna get married, with no girls?"

"Why would we need to get married?" asked JC. "Why would we *want* to get married? I even think maybe ... I think maybe what they did to us, most of us, maybe made it so we can't make babies anymore. I think that's why they picked people who ... who like boys. So it would never be an issue, if we were ever changed back and went back into the world."

"But..." Nick's voice trailed off into nothing. He tried again. "I'm not..." And again. "But I..." he finally gave up, staring at JC desperately. "Do you really think we can't make babies now? All of us. Even if we're not, if they made some kind of mistake?"

JC just shrugged. "It's only a guess," he said. "I haven't been thinking about it long, only when I realized what they'd done, what we all -- mostly all -- were. But it makes sense to me. I ... I think a lot. About things. I like to figure them out. Do you think they made a mistake, with you, Nick?"

"How can you just ask me that like it's nothing?" Nick whispered, appalled. "Like it's, 'gee, Nick, they only wanted brown haired people but they grabbed you too, are you sure that's not just the sun making your hair light?' It's kind of a huge thing, JC! I'm not smart like you and Lance, I can't just decide to figure things out and boom, it's done."

"I didn't say you had to figure things out all right now," JC assured him, licking his lips but not going away, not going anywhere. "Just ... we're just talking. You're talking to someone who would be okay, no matter what you said to him. So if you ever had questions, or things happen, and you couldn't tell anyone at home because of what you were taught to believe ... well ... you could say so now. You can whisper, Nick, if that makes it easier. I won't tell anyone you don't want me to."

Nick barely caught himself before he fisted his hands in Lance's hair and yanked in pure frustration. JC just didn't get it...whispering wouldn't help, because saying it out loud at all would make it real. Nick shook his head mutely, biting his lips, and decided that maybe some questions would be okay. "How did you know?" He whispered. The big question, the one looming over his head.

"How did I know ... that I liked boys?" asked JC, looking over his shoulder for a moment. At first Nick though he was embarrassed about what he was saying, until he realized that JC was looking around for *his* sake. "I just knew because I did. Because I looked at girls and I didn't want to touch them and kiss them and spend my life with him. And I looked at some boys and I did. And it maybe wasn't as simple as that, maybe it took a little time before I realized what it meant, but that was the heart of it, Nick."

"Oh," Nick said in a small voice. "You didn't want to kiss any of the girls? Even the pretty ones?" He was familiar with that feeling. His mother always just called him a late bloomer. "And the thought of kissing boys, it didn't make you freak out or want to run away, I bet. Is it...maybe you could like just ONE boy, and not boys as a group, don't you think? Then you'd still be..." he blinked, cutting off what he'd been going to say out of respect for JC's feelings.

"It wasn't like I liked *every* boy," said JC. "Just like I think other people don't like *every* girl. And no .... I didn't want to kiss any of the girls. Some of them were awfully pretty, sure, but that didn't make me want to kiss them any more. My family, they never taught me that it was wrong to like boys. They never said anything about it at all. When it happened, there was nothing to make me think that there was something wrong with it. I still don't. Being with boys -- certain boys, boys I've liked, or loved -- has made me happy."

"When you say 'being with...'" Nick whispered cautiously, "do you mean like...like being around them all the time, talking to them, stuff like that? Or, kissing, like Joey and Justin?" He thought there must be more to it, but the thought scared him. "I never wanted to kiss the girls," he confessed nervously, "but I never wanted to kiss the boys I knew, either. Maybe I'm just broken, somehow. Maybe that's why they took me."

"Oh Nick," said JC softly, and he even reached out to touch him again but stopped before he could and withdrew his hand. "I don't think you're broken, honey. I think maybe it just took you think long to find the right kind of people. Me being with boys ... it was kissing, and touching, and other things. But it was talking and hanging around them, too. It was all those things."

"Oh." Nick had to think about that for a long moment. It all sounded like it made so much sense, but something inside him, the part that had his father's voice, was still shouting NO! "I...I like being around Lance," he offered hesitantly. "And you, you're nice. I maybe...maybe once thought about kissing him, you know. But it freaked me out so I stopped thinking about it right away. What does that mean?"

"It just means that you're still really afraid of the things you've been told," said JC, and his voice was really nice, really kind. "I can't tell you how you feel about him, but that freaking out part, that's just because of the things that you've believed for so long. Maybe you should let yourself think about it a little more, the kissing thing, and figure out if that's something you really want to do or not."

"What if I freak out again?" Nick glanced down at Lance again. "I think I really hurt his feelings last time, even though I didn't mean to. You promise you won't tell him I told you these things? I'd be so embarrassed. Maybe, maybe you're right, but if you are...if I like the idea...JC." He sniffled a little. "That means I can NEVER go home."

"I won't tell him anything, Nick. If you want to tell him yourself, that's your decision to make. As for going home again ... " JC sighed. "I don't know what to tell you about that. I guess you have to decide what you need more in your life, to be with people who would hate you for irrational things, or with people who love you for who you are. Wings and ... and maybe boys ... and all. They're your family, Nick, and I can't tell you to not be with them, or not to try. It's your choice."

"It's too hard!" Nick shook his head and lowered his voice. "It's not fair that I have to choose. I never even had to think about this before. Stupid Lance, with his stupid eyes and smile and smartness and niceness." He sniffled again. "It was already hard enough with the wings, JC. Why did this have to happen too?"

"This isn't the kind of thing that just happens, Nick," said JC. Nick was glad it was him, at least, he was talking to. JC always seemed to good and nice, once he stopped crying. Only that made it really hard to get mad at him like Nick kind of wanted to. "It's the kind of thing that was always there, only the people around you made you too scared to see it. It's not a bad thing."

"And...and if it's true? I'm not saying it is, but if it is?" He looked at JC carefully. "I said some bad things to him. He was really mad, I guess. I should probably say I'm sorry, huh? To you, too. Oh, it's all so messed up in my head. It sure FEELS like a bad things, scary and miserable and complicated."

"He would probably like it if you said sorry." JC agreed. "It would probably make him feel a lot better. I know it can't be easy right away, Nick. It's hard to suddenly not believe what you've believed for so long. People ... they sometimes make up stories about how some things are bad, even when they're not, because they don't want you doing them. Like maybe, in your home, it's important to have big families, and so they wouldn't encourage people to get together who couldn't have kids. And it wouldn't be because that coupling is really a bad thing, it would just be because there would be no children. But what they maybe don't understand is that we don't choose the kind of person that we fall for. It kind of just happens."

"That sucks," Nick sighed. "Can't we fix it? There's nothing we can do at all? I'm stuck being a...a..." he couldn't say it out loud, and just waved the hand that wasn't in Lance's hair. "And on top of that, I've got wings that won't come off? They weren't making up stories, JC, I could tell. They really honestly believed it was bad, and told me what they did because they wanted to protect me. It's NOT their fault."

"I'm not saying it's their fault, Nicky," JC assured him. "But maybe three or four generations ago, the story started, and then the people who told it told their children. And then their children told their children. And so on. So that everyone alive now believes it's true, but really it was a story that was started a long time ago by someone to get what they needed. Doesn't that make more sense than it being just bad, for no reason at all? When you know in your heart that it's really not, and that being with Lance would make you happy, and make him happy, and not suddenly turn you into an evil thing."

"Being with Lance?" Nick hadn't gotten even nearly that far, and the idea jolted him up straight. "Whoa, whoa, no. He's, no. I like him, I thought about kissing him...okay, yeah, I did. But he's all comfortable with this! And he can't want me like that anyway, not after I said all that stuff, which I WILL say sorry for." He scowled at JC. "Don't you go putting ideas in his head, either. He needs someone a lot nicer than me."

"It's not up to me who Lance wants to be with," said JC. "Oh, Nick, I wish I could give you a big hug right now. I hate it that you look so sad, about this, when it could be a wonderful thing. I know that wouldn't make it all better, but at least it's something. Lance already likes you, Nicky. He would never do anything with you you didn't want, but he already likes you."

"I like him too," Nick whispered, wishing JC could give him a hug, too. "I do. But it's too much to think about right now, we're already buried under so much stuff." He finger-combed Lance's hair off his face, watching him sleep. "He's in so much pain, JC, and he's not complaining at all. He can barely even keep moving, even with Justin carrying him."

"He's a really strong guy," said JC admiringly. "I remember at first, I couldn't do anything, it hurt so much. I just cried all the time. Maybe it's easier for him because of the poison tea, or because of he knows what's going on. But mostly I think he's just really stubborn. I don't think you'll be able to talk him out of doing anything he wants. Or maybe you could, but no one else, and only sometimes."

"It's not poison, JC," Nick sighed, shaking his head. "And I bet it's helping. I don't care how stubborn he is, no WAY would I have been able to do this the third day after getting here. I could barely stand up at all. I wasn't crying like you, though. I couldn't make any sounds at all." He looked at JC curiously. "Why were you crying like that, all the time?"

JC shrugged and looked embarrassed. "I don't know," he said. "I just ... did. Do. I was scared and alone and ... alone. And it hurt and I didn't know what else to do. My friends used to always tease me, about being sensitive like that. I don't know. Why were you so quiet?"

"Dunno," Nick echoed him. "I didn't see any point in making noise, I guess. I didn't have anything to say, and I kind of just went away inside my head. I didn't want to get in trouble, like Chris." He looked around, like the dark was hiding things. "JC...do you think they'll come after us?"

JC chewed on his lip for a moment, then nodded. "I think they will, at first at least. But they're not even going to know we're gone until daylight, at the earliest. And they're not going to want to send anyone else after us, because that would be admitting what they've done. I don't think they'll come after us for long, though. We don't know who they are, and we're ... we're freaks. And no one would believe us anyway. They might be better off washing their hands of us, if we prove too difficult to track down. And we will. There's no way they're ever taking any of us again."

"Hard to track down?" Nick stared at JC. "JC, have you seen us recently? All they have to do is ask who's seen the kid with the wings and which way he went. We can't stay away from people forever, we need food and clothes...medicines...we need to find a way to fix ourselves, remember?" He took a deep breath and tried to calm down. "And...and they'll probably just take more people. Make more angels, now that we're gone. Which isn't good, but means that they might stop chasing us soon."

"I don't think they're going to ask people about us, though," said JC thoughtfully. "That would, like, take away from our divinity. That they had to track us down. Because if they were to get us back, and then try to show us off as angels, these people would remember that they had to track us down. Maybe remember that we weren't there voluntarily, that we weren't perfect. And that kind of thing would spread like wildfire around the land. No, I think once we hit civilization we're safe." But it looked to Nick like there were other things that JC wasn't saying.

"Well, I for one don't have any divinity to lose," Nick snorted. At least they were talking about normal, non-panic-making things, like running for their lives and being tracked down like animals and put on show. Nick was very relieved. "Once we hit civilization we're...we're going to have to be pretty careful, huh? Even without people running around saying we're angels, we don't look very normal any more. None of us. And some of us can start fires."

JC touched his hair self-consciously. "No, we won't look normal anymore. We aren't the same as anyone else anymore. And ... and you have to do what you feel is right, Nick, but I know that I'm not going home again. I know that I can't, not like this. It's better that they think I'm gone. They've probably already dealt with it."

"But you'll just let them think you're dead?" Nick couldn't fathom that. His little sisters, his brother...he couldn't just let them mourn him. "You could at least send them a message. Let them know that you're alive, even though you can't come home...they sound like good people, and it's terrible to think you've lost a child, I think. I'm sure they'd rather know you were alive and just very far away, or something." He smoothed one of Lance's wingfeathers gently. "I bet Lance wants to see his mom."

"They won't think I'm dead," said JC confidently. "They'll think I've run away, to the city. And in a way, they'll be right. I never belonged in my home, and they knew it. It'll be okay. One of these days I'll send them a letter, tell them I'm doing all right. But Lance ... " He reached a hand toward Lance and let it hover. "I think Lance would like to see his mother very much. And I think Lance's mother would like to see him, no matter what."

"Mine will think I'm dead," Nick said with grim certainty. "I never wanted to be anywhere but there, not before all this happened. Never talked about visiting the city, even. I was going to be a farmer and grow good corn, just like my father." He sighed. "I think Lance's mother will want to see all of us. She seems like that kind of person, just the way he talks about her all the time. I wonder if she'll like us?"

JC smiled and shrugged. "What's not to like?" he said. Nick had to hold back a bitter laugh. "Maybe ... maybe if ... if you can't go back. Maybe then when we find a place for all of us to stay, you can grow corn for us there. And other things. I was never really useful on a farm or even a garden, but there would be a place for all of us."

"Yeah, we could be one big miserable family of freaks." Nick only remembered to keep his voice down with an effort. "Except Lance, who'll stay with his mother, and AJ, who'll go back to wherever and use his skin to scare people into giving him money, and Brian and Howie, who'll lock themselves in a church...I don't see how it could possibly work, JC. If my parents won't take me in, I'll..." he shrugged, unable to come up with anything. "I don't know."

"You'll always have a place with us, Nick," JC insisted. "I know Kevin has nowhere to go, too. And what about Joey and Justin? We need to stick together now. Even if your parents take you in, if you go back to that life, if you marry that girl you're betrothed to ... you can always come back to us. I'll make sure of that."

"Oh, her." Nick wrinkled his nose. "I'm sure she's got some other man now. Her father wanted her married of right away, he kept saying that the boys were all a-sniffing. Whatever that means." He smiled at JC. "But if my parents do take me in, I won't have to worry about it. If they don't...thanks, JC. I'll have to come find you, wherever you are. Maybe see if I can grow some corn." It was strange and calming to realize that JC meant it, that Nick would always have a place where he could go. Wherever it ended up being.

"Wouldn't you miss us?" asked JC. "If you never came back to see us? Wouldn't you miss Lance, at least, if not the rest of us?"

"Well, yeah," Nick said, not wanting to think about it. "I'd miss all--most of you guys, a lot. Um. Lance too, of course." He shifted a little against his tree, wishing he could move his leg. "But, but maybe I could visit. If that would be okay. It would be strange, being the only...strange person around." He hadn't really considered how strange that would be, and the idea gave him pause.

"I would feel alone again," said JC, and his face was turned away but Nick was *sure* he heard him sniffle and braced himself for what might come next. "I couldn't bear it. I'm so glad I have everyone else now, even if we don't all always get along. It makes everything ... as okay as it can be. But I hope ... for your sake, i hope they're good to you."

"You won't be alone," Nick said, as firmly as he could without waking up Lance. "You'll have Joey and Justin and Chris and Kevin and lots of people around. I'm sure it'll be okay." He dared to reach out and brush JC's shoulder with his fingertips, unable to resist trying to offer comfort. "And I'll come and visit, I will. Even if everything works out with my family, I will. I know how to travel now, you know. I know lots of new things."

"Lance will miss you," JC reminded him. "Lance will miss you so much Nick. If this is ... if deciding to go home is what you have to do ... I don't know. Just make sure you come see him ... us."

"Lance will be fine," Nick said softly, glancing at him again. "Lance is the kind of person who'll always be fine, he's just that good. I'll miss him awfully. I'm sure he'll find someone and something to make him happy, though." The idea made him so sad that he had to change the subject. "Where are you thinking of going, anyway?"

"I don't know yet," admitted JC. "I was mostly thinking about getting away, then thinking about why we were there, and I didn't think about where we were going to go to after. I just figured that we would be together. I thought we would all be like me ... nowhere else to go. But Lance and you and Chris, you have family ... "

"You should ask, before you go thinking that people won't come along, or go along, or whatever," Nick advised. "You never know. I mean, maybe people have family like you. Maybe some peoples' families will want them to leave. Mine might. I hear there are islands in the west that are really nice, and don't have people on them." He shrugged. "If people start chasing us with sticks, that sounds pretty good to me."

"Do you know how to get there?" asked JC, looking interested. "For real? Oh, Nick, that would be perfect, I think. Or were you just ... was that just a joke or something?"

"No, it wasn't a joke," Nick said. "My aunt liked to travel, she went all over the place and always came back with the craziest stories. She told us about the islands. She'd only seen them from a boat, though, and I don't know how to get there. I guess you just keep walking west till you hit water." Nick had no notion of geography, and no real desire to know. He yawned hugely. "JC...you should rest. Look." He nodded in the direction of the others. Kevin and Chris were dark still lumps, their eyes hidden in sleep. AJ was crouched under another tree, clearly keeping watch, and Joey and Justin were lying so close to each other that Nick couldn't believe they weren't touching, even though he knew they couldn't be.

"I guess Justin must be finished," he said, looking back at them as well. "My hood, and everyone's. I just need to get it. I can ... I'll leave you and Lance alone. I think you should be alone, for when he wakes up again. Are you okay?"

"I'm okay," Nick confirmed, nodding. "Tired, and ouchy, and confused, but okay. Thank you for talking to me, JC." He really did appreciate it, for all JC had turned his head upside-down. JC was so nice. "Go sleep, you need it as much as anyone. And you can sleep here by us, if you want. I don't know why you'd think we needed to be alone."

JC shook his head. "No, I think you should be alone together," he said again. "Take advantage of the time you have. I'll be. I'll be close. Just promise you won't leave while I'm sleeping, okay?"

Nick sighed. Waking up JC quietly would be a hassle, but then again, he didn't know how he was going to get out from under Lance anyway without making some kind of big fuss. "I won't," he promised. "Don't go too far away, okay? No wandering off, stay close, where we can keep an eye on you." He smiled at him.

"Keep an eye on *you*," said JC as he half walked, half stumbled over to where Justin and Joey were laying together. A moment later, the flames of his hair disappeared completely. "I'll be right here. Sleep well, Nick, we have a long way to go tomorrow."

"Good night," Nick called softly, running his fingertip down Lance's cheek before settling back and relaxing, his head tipping back, eyes closing as soon as he gave them permission. Before he could even remind himself to wake up early, he was asleep.

* * *

Nick woke to the dim light of early morning, blinking his eyes a little and trying to figure out where he was. His back was stiff and there was a crick in his neck, his eyes were bleary, and the first thing he thought was that he needed about eight more hours of sleep. Preferably in a bed. The rustle of movement and low voices brought him back to full awareness, and he realized he'd slept through the night, and that the others were now awake. Cursing softly, he dragged himself upright, and realized that his leg was completely numb from the weight of Lance's head, still resting on his thigh.

He was still asleep for the moment, but Nick wouldn't bet on him sleeping through to much more of this. He was reluctant to wake him, though, even with the numbness in his leg. Lance needed every moment of rest he could get.

"Nick," he heard someone call, softly enough that he didn't feel the need to shush them. "Nick, we're heading out soon. It's dawn. And you've got grass in your feathers."

"Great," Nick muttered blurrily. "I can be the grass angel." He sighed, and poked Lance's arm gently. "Lance," he said with quiet urgency. "Lance, wake up, we've got to go soon. Come on, sleepyhead." He couldn't figure out why the urge to kiss Lance awake wasn't making him want to scream and run, until last night's conversation trickled back to him in bits and pieces. When Lance opened his eyes, Nick was actually smiling a little.

Lance blinked at him sleepily, then smiled, and right in that moment, he really did look like an angel. "Hey," he said softly. "Hey, you're ... he looked down at Nick's leg, then back up at his face again. "Hey," he said again, still smiling. "Good morning."

"Morning," Nick answered, touching his cheek. JC had said he should take advantage of the time he had, and Nick figured, in the early morning light, that that was pretty good advice. "Are you feeling a little better now? You were sleeping really hard."

"I feel ... " Lance had to think about it. "Okay," he said finally. "I feel okay. I feel like I can walk today, no more burdening poor Justin. How are *you*, Nick? How are *you* today? Are you okay? Did you sleep lots too?"

"I slept enough," Nick said evasively. He had no idea how long he and JC had talked, but it must have been pretty late when he finally fell asleep. "I'm feeling okay. Kind of stiff, I'm not used to flying AND walking all in the same night." He rolled his shoulders carefully. "Don't you worry about me, Lance, I'll be okay. You're the one who has to be super careful today. I don't think you should walk too much."

"No, I can walk," insisted Lance. "I can hold my own. It's not fair to make someone do twice the work. You should have tea before we go. Is there tea? Oh no ... on no ... I never went looking for roots last night. It's not too late, is it?" And he stated pushing himself to his feet, looking very sore and very wobbly. "You probably want me to get up anyway."

"Lance!" Nick reached out and grabbed him, pulling him back down to his side. It wasn't very hard, Lance was as weak as a kitten. "It's not too late, but someone else can do it. Just...just sit here with me for a little, okay? We'll be moving soon enough. Take all the rest you can get." He brushed a few leaves from Lance's wings with a careful hand.

"I don't want to be in your way," said Lance carefully. "I've been ... in your way ... all night." The more awake he was, the more he seemed to withdraw. "And I haven't helped with anything. I need to help with something."

"No you don't," Nick insisted, smiling at him, hoping to draw him back out. "You're not in my way, it was nice, having you here. You can help once everyone's out, you can tell us what to look for when we go hunting roots. You're helping by resting and getting strong so we can all move fast when we need to."

Lance watched him suspiciously for a moment, like he thought Nick was setting him up for something, then settled back down at his side. "Well ... okay," he said finally. "If you're sure."

"Good, thank you," Nick said, letting out a sigh of relief he hadn't been aware he was holding. "See, this way we can talk a little bit, let everyone wake up, and then when we're ready to go you'll be all awake and not tired. I...I need to tell you something." He bit his lip, completely uncertain how to phrase the dreaded apology. He finally decided that simple was best. "I'm sorry. About before. When we were still back there."

Lance looked down for a moment so Nick couldn't see his eyes, and nodded slightly. "Which part, exactly, are you sorry for?" he asked, nervously. "I mean ... are you just sorry you said it, or sorry you said it the way you *did*, or ... sorry you believed it?"

"Well." Nick hadn't really thought that far yet. "I'm sorry I said it, I'm sorry I upset you. I'm not sorry I believed it, because how was I s'posed to know it was wrong? But I'm sorry I let it hurt your feelings, and that I didn't let you explain." He looked at Lance sheepishly. "Me and JC had a talk last night after you were asleep."

"Nick, you were supposed to be sleeping!" Lance blurted out, then blushed. His whole face turned pink when he blushed. "I'm not sorry you, did, though. Not if this is what I get out of it. Um. Thank you, Nick. Really."

"Welcome," Nick muttered, looking down at his hands embarrassedly. "I'm sorry I yelled when you suggested I might be...you know. Too. There's a small possibility that...well." He couldn't go that far yet, but he figured Lance needed to know. "Do you know that JC thinks that all of us, or most, are like that? He thinks it has something to do with making babies."

Lance frowned at him, puzzled. "Making babies?" he repeated. "That doesn't ... that doesn't make any sense. Maybe I'll have to ask JC about it. Um ... he's right about the other, though. About how most of us ... are. I don't know about the new guys, I haven't talked to them, really, but the rest. Yeah. Except you. Um. Maybe?"

"Right," Nick said, staring off into the bushes vaguely, unwilling to make eye contact. "Maybe. Lance, what are you going to do, once we get away? Are you going home to see your mom?"

Lance didn't push the subject, for which Nick was mostly grateful. "I ... I hope so," he said. "Not right away, not until I've healed more, so she doesn't have to worry quite so much, but I hope I can go see her again. She'd understand, I think, that it was something that was done to me."

"Yeah, she seems like she would," Nick agreed wistfully. "Just from what you've said. And she's probably worried about you. I want to go home, but JC doesn't think it's such a good idea, I don't think. Not that he said, but the feeling I got was that...he wants us all to stay together, and go somewhere away."

Lance nodded again, a little, "I think that's not a bad idea, maybe. I can go see my mom, but I don't think i can stay there. She would understand, but other people, maybe not so much. I think it's going to be like that all over. Does that mean ... are you leaving, Nick?"

"I dunno," Nick answered softly. "I want to. I was thinking about it last night. I'm too conspicuous, Lance...your wings are still small enough to hide, but mine aren't, and everywhere we go I'm going to stick out like a sore thumb. It might be better if I did."

"But we don't want you do," said Lance. "I mean ... where would you *go*? You're safer with us, we're all safer together, I think. We'll all look out for each other. Mine are ... " He reached over his shoulder to tug carefully at a wingfeather. "Mine will be that big soon too."

"In a month," Nick pointed out, watching Lance move. "In a month, if you're not where you're going, I think it will be a bad thing anyway. I'd go home, of course. They...they have to take me in, I'm family. Right? But not right away. I just realized I have no idea where we are." He looked around, as if the trees could give him directions.

"I don't think any of us do, until we hit a town, or some place one of us knows," said Lance, looking around as well. "Until then, we're traveling blind. We just have to keep going in the same direction and hope for the best. I don't ... I don't know how your family would react, Nick. They're your family. You know them best. You know what they'll accept and what they ... won't."

"I don't want to talk about that," Nick said abruptly, shaking his head. "They'll have to take me back, that's all. Even with my wings I can still work in the fields, even if...if I'll never be married, like father wanted. No one will want some freak with wings." He looked back at them sadly, though even he could see they were pretty, shining pale gold in the thin light.

"Lots of people would want you with the wings," insisted Lance, reaching out for a moment like he was going to touch them. "Just ... not people you would want back, is all. But you have to do what you have to do, Nick, and no one can stop you."

"Right," Nick muttered. He'd honestly been expecting a little more argument from Lance, and was vaguely hurt that he wasn't trying to talk him out of it. Even JC had tried harder! But he shook his head, refocusing on Lance. "What do you mean, people who I wouldn't want back?"

Lance licked his lips and looked away. "Nothing," he murmured. "Nothing that you want to hear, Nick, especially if you're leaving."

"Fine," Nick said, a little angry again. JC had clearly been wrong about Lance. "If you don't want to tell me, that's fine. I thought we were talking, again, Lance!"

"Why would you want to hear it when you're leaving me?" asked Lance, looking up, his eyes watery and his voice trembling just enough for Nick to hear.

The anger washed away instantly, and Nick reached for Lance's hand and gripped his fingers. "Lance," he whispered, desperate for the tears to go away. "I'm not leaving YOU, I mean, I am, I guess, but not specifically...you don't need me here, you're so strong. I'll miss you awfully, but I have to go home, I have to see my brothers and sisters and mom and dad, that's my life!"

Lance's lips tightened and he nodded and just watched him for a few moments. "And that," he said finally, practically whispering, "is why it would do nobody any good at all for me to answer your question."

Nick frowned, then scowled, then sighed, shaking his head. "I don't understand you," he muttered. "At all. But okay. Okay. Whatever you say, Lance." He looked at the others, realized that a few at least were still sleeping, and started picking grass out of his wings, twisting to an awkward angle to reach them. "I'll come visit you, you know."

"Yeah," said Lance, and sighed. "I don't understand you either, Nick. Is it ... is it because of me that you want to leave? You can be honest. I know you're not ... comfortable, with me. In particular."

"No, it's not because of you. Geez. I said I was sorry!" Nick flicked a piece of grass in Lance's direction, irritably. "I want to leave because...I don't want to leave, really, I just want things to go back to normal, and I want to see my family. That's different."

"I *know* you're sorry, but that doesn't ... " Lance started turning pink again. "That doesn't mean you wouldn't get upset again, if you knew other things. Is all. And ... and I don't *want* things to go back to normal for you because that means you'd go back to ... to believing what you did before. And then I'd never ... "

"I won't go back to believing that," Nick sighed. "You think I could, after meeting you and JC and Justin and everyone? I'm not THAT stupid. I don't know why they told me those things, but they were wrong things, and I know that now. Just because I go back won't make me think they're right again. And I won't get upset again at you, I felt way too bad about it the first time to do it again."

"Yeah, you would," said Lance, looking resigned, and still pink. "You will. Cause it's one thing to know that people ... people like *that* ... are okay. It's another thing to know how one of them feels about you. It's probably scary, for you."

"Well." Nick felt his own face heating up, and he stared fiercely at the ground. "JC maybe. Maybe mentioned that you were...possibly...that you might feel..." He gave up and groaned. "Gods, this is so embarrassing. I'm not saying it. Never mind."

"Okay," whispered Lance. "Okay, Nick. I'm sorry I embarrassed you. But I guess that's better than ... something else. I'm sorry. I'll just ... someone can probably use my help with something."

"Not YOU," Nick almost shouted, scaring a bird out of a nearby tree. "SAYING it is embarrassing. Blessed angels, Lance, isn't anything ever just hard for you to say?" He flinched a little at someone's stern "shut UP, Nick," and lowered his head again. "And don't you go running off to help, either. You need to sit here and rest, I mean it. Or I'll...I'll sit on you."

"I guess maybe I don't know what you're trying to say," murmured Lance, relaxing on the ground again. "I thought ... I don't know what I thought. That you were trying to say something you weren't, I guess."

"Of course it's embarrassing to just come right out and say that you've heard that someone may have feelings for you. What if you're wrong? What if they don't? What if they laugh at you?" Nick shredded a leaf between his fingers anxiously. "Maybe JC's an idiot. I should go hunt roots or something."

"No, JC's pretty smart," said Lance, looking back over his shoulder like he was worried someone might be listening. Which Nick knew they weren't, not until he started shouting. "I would never laugh at you, Nick, not about something like that."

"Well, good," Nick grumbled, needing to stop being such a fool. "I guess. When you say he's not an idiot. You're saying he's right?" He glanced at Lance sideways, out of the corner of his eye, still tearing the leaf into tinier and tinier pieces.

"If he told you ... that I ... then yeah, he's right," said Lance, and let out a deep sigh. "Yeah, that's why I was trying to ... trying not to ... I don't know. But that's what we're talking about, yeah."

"Oh." Nick's own cheeks felt hot. He wasn't quite sure what to do with the confirmation, now that he had it. "Well. I don't. I mean. Imaybethoughtaboutkissingyou. But, you know, I'm not sure, if I am...but if I am, I totally like you back." Running over that sentence, he realized it didn't make much sense, but there wasn't much he could do about it now.

"Oh," said Lance softly, staring at Nick with wide eyes. "Oh. Well ... um. You could. Try? And then if you didn't like it ... well, then we'd know, right? Then you'd know."

"Well," Nick leaned a little closer, looking at Lance's chin, unable to meet his eyes. "Um. But, we're only just okay again, after before, and I don't want things bad between us. Are you sure? You won't get mad if I don't like it? Or do like it and flip out, maybe, a little?" He was already pretty sure which one it would be.

"Then at least we'll know," said Lance, his tongue darting out to lick his lips, just a little. "We'll know and then we can deal with that, instead of wondering, wondering, wondering all the time about what's happening here and what's going to happen. It's better to know, I think. That's what my mother always told me. It's better to know what you're facing, because then you can do something about it."

"Lance," Nick said seriously, looking him right in the eyes again. "I think we need to not talk about your mother right now." He sighed, and inched closer, then darted in quickly and pressed his lips to Lance's. He only held it long enough to get the impression of soft, nice, warm, good, before jerking back, clapping his hands over his OWN mouth. "I can't believe I just did that," he mumbled through his fingers, blinking in shock.

Lance was smiling at him -- shakily, shyly, nervously, but still smiling at him. "I'm really glad you did," he said, and let out a happy sigh. "Was it ... how was it?"

"Was nice," Nick mumbled, still not moving his hand, his brain whirling. Nothing had struck him dead, he wasn't running away screaming... "Liked it. Good." He could feel himself start to smile back at Lance, from behind his fingers; how could he resist, when Lance looked so happy?

"Liked it enough to do it again?" prompted Lance, his smile getting a little bit more sure. Maybe because Nick wasn't running or yelling at him or anything bad. "I would ... I'd like it, if you wanted to. If it's okay."

"Maybe you should this time," Nick offered, warily lowering his hand. "Um. I'm not sure I'm doing it right. It looked different when I saw Charlie and Lily doing it behind the barn." He leaned a little closer again, hoping Lance would take him up on the offer.

"You were just fine," murmured Lance, but he was already leaning forward too, that quickly, and then his lips were pressed against Nick's and neither one of them was pulling away and it seemed to last a lot longer this time, even before Lance started moving his lips, opening his mouth.

Nick couldn't stop the little squeak of surprise that escaped him when he felt Lance's tongue touch his lips, but after a second he realized that it felt...nice. Wet, and nice, and he kind of wanted to do the same thing for Lance. So he opened his mouth, just the littlest bit, and brushed Lance's bottom lip with his own tongue.

They hardly moved the rest of their bodies -- Nick knew that if *he* was stiff and sore then Lance had to be worse -- but their lips, their lips kept moving, kissing, and their tongues slid against one another and it *was* that good. It make him feel good, and happy, and not bad at all. It wasn't anything like he'd been expecting.

He finally had to move back; his neck was starting to ache, and he didn't know where to put his hands, and plus he needed more air than he was getting. So he sat back abruptly, licking his lips to see if they tasted different. They felt different, kind of puffy and wet, and when he looked at Lance Lance was licking his too.

"Um." He had no idea what to say now.

Lance smiled at him again. "Hey," he said softly. "That was really good, Nick. I really liked that. I ... I hope you liked it, too, like I did. Cause this'll be a lot easier if you did ..."

"I liked it," Nick said, a little dazed. "I actually did. Oh gods. I liked it. What happens now? What do I do? Do I...are there things I have to know? Oh, I can't tell my parents this, never ever. I liked it and I want to do it more."

"Shhh, shhh, it's okay," said Lance quickly, putting his hand on Nick's shoulder. "It's okay, Nick. There are ... things we can talk about, if you want, but you don't have to *know* anything. You just have to be yourself. And your parents ... " He sighed. "They don't have to know, Nick. You don't have to tell them anything you don't want to."

"Then I'm not telling them anything," Nick swore, feeling Lance's touch calm him a little. "Nothing. And...and I think maybe we should go. The others must be ready to leave by now." Nervously, he patted Lance's fingers. "Are you feeling okay? Up to walking a little, or should I get Justin?"

"I can walk just fine," Lance insisted. "I won't be carried today. We can go faster with me on my feet." Everyone was up now, and as much as Nick *felt* alone when he'd been kissing Lance, he knew he hadn't been. "Will you walk with me?"

"I will. That way I can see if you're pushing yourself too hard," Nick warned. Worrying about Lance was much less freaky then worrying about liking boys, so Nick dove right back into it completely. "And you've got to say if you're hurting, okay? So we can rest. There are other new people too, you know, and they'll be moving slowly, even though they're not bleeding."

"I know that," said Lance. "That's why I was trying to make them let me walk yesterday, but they wouldn't." And Nick agreed with their decision entirely. "It won't hurt too much that I'll have to stop. If I see any blackenroot flowers, though, I'm stopping us so we can pick some. There are things we're going to need, for the trip."

"If I see that you're bleeding again, I'll call the stop myself," Nick said, trying to sound intimidating. He had a feeling it didn't work too well, since he was scrambling awkwardly to his feet, balancing the wings and fighting stiffness. He almost fell, and had to catch himself on a tree, wincing. "Everyone knows what the flowers look like now, you know. You don't have to do the picking yourself."

"But I'm better and more experienced," said Lance. Nick didn't really think that was relevant when it came to picking flowers, though. Maybe when brewing them, but not anything else. "If I'm bleeding just a little, we don't need to stop," said Lance. "I'm always bleeding just a little."

"Hey," said Justin, and Nick was startled by the sudden voice. "Chris says we're ready to head out now. Are you two all right? Lance, do you need any help?"

"No, no," said Lance, getting up carefully. Too carefully. "I'm okay to walk today. I'm fine."

"Liar," Nick muttered, but he steadied Lance with a careful hand. "He's not, but he's stubborn," he answered Justin, forgetting and looking at his face directly, then having to glance away. "He's going to walk for a little bit, but if he gets too tired...maybe we could both carry him? Take a side each. I'm not doing any flying today, so I'll be okay. And AJ can help too." He turned back to Lance.

"Bleeding just a little is too much. No pushing! It'll just make the healing take longer, maybe my mother wasn't a healer but even I know that much."

"Some things are more important, though," said Lance. "We need to get further away than right here. I can heal when we're safe. I don't think they'll chase us for long."

"You have to say, if you need help," said Justin. "I'll be with Joey. But you just have to say, and I'll be right there. Okay?"

"Okay," said Lance, "okay. But I won't be saying. You don't need to be worrying about me. I'll make it all right."

"I'll say," Nick told Justin quietly, as Lance started straightening his wings, moving slowly and carefully. "He's being silly about this. Thanks for carrying him, Justin. I don't know if he'd make it otherwise."

"That's okay," Justin answered, just as softly. "If Joey couldn't walk, and I couldn't carry him, I'd sure want someone to help. It's no big deal." "It kind of is," Nick argued, but shrugged. "Thanks. Hear that, Lance? The Justin Express is ready to be called into service. I get to worry about you if I want."

Lance looked back and gave Nick a shy, sweet smile. "I worry about you, too, you know," he said. "You don't overdo it either. You put a lot of stress on yourself just yesterday."

They all had, really, but there was no time to break, no more time to rest. And the rest period the next night might be even shorter if they didn't find a place they felt safe, because the sewing was all done now, and all they had to do was travel.

"Grab your things," Chris called out, just loud enough to be heard. "We're leaving."

"He's all bossy today," Justin grumbled, walking with them to the group. "It's like he woke up thinking whoo, I'll order everyone around this morning." He jumped to Joey's side as soon as he could.

"Morning," JC smiled at them, eyes crinkling happily. "I saw you talking. And things. Hooray, Nick! Oh, Lance...you're...walk carefully, okay?"

"Oh no," Nick whimpered, hoping JC was the only person who had seen them kiss.

"What things?" asked Justin innocently. "Like, flying? You weren't, were you? Because I don't think you're ready for that yet ... "

"We weren't," Lance assured him, giving Nick another tiny smile. "Just things. And don't worry about me, I'm walking okay, I promise. If we stumble over any blackenroot, I'll be walking even better. Keep your eyes open, okay?"

"Everyone do that," AJ said loudly, clearly overhearing the last part. "Lots of us need that damned poison root--sorry, Lance--so little yellow flowers, give a holler."

"We don't take poison," a soft voice interjected, sounding worried. "It's a sin." Nick looked over, and in the light could actually see one of the newcomers. Small and almost too pretty, with hair like JC's framing a soft face and huge dark eyes. Nick blinked a little at him.

"It's not poison. Can someone else explain that so we can start walking before Lance falls down?" He slipped a protective arm around Lance's waist.

"It's not poison," Lance echoed him, leaning into Nick's support more than he would probably admit to. "JC just started calling it poison because it tastes really bad, and then everyone started. It's called blackenroot. It helps take pain away. It's a medicine."

"And it really, really works," said JC. "Even though it tastes awful like poison would taste."

They started moving as they talked, bossy Chris taking the lead and making a path through the woods, and everyone put on their hoods and gloves, to cover the fire.

"So it's not poison?" the new one asked, still softly. "Oh."

"No," Nick said, feeling a little more generous now that they were moving, albeit slowly. "No, it's just a silly name. If we were taking poison, we sure wouldn't be here talking to you, would we?"

"I guess not," the new one smiled a little, ducking his head, and Nick recognized him as the one who'd provided light last night for the sewing. He pulled a hood on over his bright hair, and suddenly looked like any other pretty man, on a walk in the woods. Nick felt his wings brush against his back, heavy, and was incredibly jealous. "You all look normal," he said wistfully, looking up the line of walkers ahead of them.

No one said anything for a moment; there wasn't a lot of comfort to be given for a statement like that. "You look beautiful," Lance said finally, softly. "And that's enough."

Joey and Justin were walking ahead of them now, just close enough so that they could brush up against each other once in a while, which was as much touching as they could allow themselves. It was still a little bit heartbreaking, every time Nick saw it.

"So hey," said JC, just as quietly as Lance. "Hey. How are you doing?"

"I'm here, aren't I?" Nick sighed, unable to reply to Lance's compliment with anything but a blush, and then realized that wasn't really an answer at all. "I'm okay, I guess. I don't think I'm really awake yet." That would explain the dazed feeling he had, and the way he was having trouble focusing on anything but Lance. "How are you?" He looked at JC, hair hooded, walking easily at his side. "Still okay? Still planning the great settlement of freaks? Did you tell the others?"

"What's this?" AJ had apparently decided to take up the rear today, because his voice came from somewhere behind Nick's shoulder. "Settlement of freaks? Sounds like a good time."

"I just thought ... " began JC, then shook his head. "We're not freaks, you don't have to say that. We're just all different now. And I just thought that we would stay together ... that we would want to stay together now. Because we're all, you know, us."

"Where?" asked Lance. "Where would you want to do this? In your home?"

"Oh, gods, no," JC blurted, shaking his head so hard Nick was afraid his hood would fly off. "No, Nick said...there are islands. In the West, where there aren't any people."

"I heard about them," Nick agreed, a little uncomfortable that attention had been directed to him. "They sound nice."

"I don't know about that," AJ said skeptically. "I like people. Might be hard to make it, just the ten of us alone, especially off somewhere we've never been. I love you, JC, I do, and all the rest of you, but variety is the spice of life, you know?"

"I didn't mean cut ourselves off forever and ever," said JC quickly. "Just, you know, have a place where we wouldn't have these hoods on all the time, where we could just live with what we are now. Where people wouldn't point and stare all the time, or whatever else they might do."

"That does sound kind of nice," offered Lance. "If we could find a place like that. Where there were other people, but not, too."

"Other people but not?" AJ snorted. "What, you want to live with ghosts? I like the real live kicking kind, myself."

"No, no," Nick defended Lance automatically. "Like a home base, and we can go other places, but that would always be there if we needed it. Um." He realized JC was staring at him bemusedly, and ducked his head and kept on walking.

"We could build a chapel and give thanks for our glorious transformation!" Howie exclaimed excitedly.

"Yeah, that can be *your* project," scowled AJ dismissively.

"That's exactly what I meant, though," said Lance. "A place that's always there for us, but not so far from other people. Is that what you meant, JC?"

"Yes!" said JC excitedly. "Yes, that's it exactly. Except maybe not the chapel, but that's because I don't think being on fire is such a great transformation. But still ... a place that's ours, but not like the place we just came from, not at all. We would never be alone, then."

"How're you going to hide this secret place?" AJ asked practically. "Oh, whatever. I guess we could probably make it work if we wanted to It's not the worst idea I've ever heard." He jogged up past them and tugged on Chris's arm, drawing him into conversation.

"But, JC," the small man said, seeming confused, "it's a blessing, don't you see? Our hair. We've been exalted."

"Howie," JC sighed, and then shook his head.

"You won't be alone, JC," Nick assured him, ignoring the Howie person and his chapel idea. "I'm sure lots of us will want a place like that, even if it's not exactly there, or whatever."

"But we don't need to hide it," said JC softly, glancing back toward AJ and looking hurt. "We don't need to hide. It would just be easier, if it was just us. Doesn't anyone understand?"

"The blessed ones," said Howie, nodding his head. "It makes sense, that we would gather in one place."

"I don't think that's quite what he meant ... " began Lance, but Nick didn't know if it was any use. At least Howie was really nice about his beliefs, not like that other one.

"I don't know, JC," he said finally, after a few more slow steps. "If AJ thinks there's a reason to hide, maybe there is. I mean. Not everyone's great with new, unexpected stuff." He looked sideways at Lance. He was walking okay, leaning a lot of weight on Nick's arm, but doing all right. "Blessed ones or not, I know I was really scared when I saw Chris the first time."

"Me too," JC said softly. "And AJ. But now I'm not."

"The unbelievers will drive the angels from the land," Howie started, and Nick cut him off.

"Stop that, for the gods' sake. Please, enough. Some of us don't think this is so great, okay? Some of us just hate it and think the people who did it to us were sick twisted fucks with some strange agenda. And it sucks."

Howie looked taken aback for a moment and fell silent, and he didn't look pleased. But at least he looked thoughtful.

"No, you don't understand," said JC again. "That's what I'm trying to say. That people will be afraid, and maybe never be completely comfortable, but not *all* people. So we life apart but not under a rock, or something like that. We need to be careful, but maybe not hide."

"Maybe," said Lance, his voice sounding too weak for Nick's comfort. "Maybe you're right, JC."

Nick slowed his steps even further, dropping a little behind Lance and peeking at his back. Shit. "Justin," he called quietly, and the curly head swiveled so Justin could look back at them. "I think Lance has walked far enough today."

"Uh oh." JC stopped walking entirely, and Nick joined him, still holding Lance's waist lightly. "Lance...you should have said. We would have stopped!" Slowly, the whole group stopped walking.

"No!" said Lance, shaking his head fiercely. "No, I don't need help, I'm fine. Everyone just ... keep going. Keep *going*." He did everything but wrench himself out of Nick's grasp and started moving forward again, even though the rest of the group had stopped. "I mean it."

"Lance ... " began Justin carefully, glancing at Nick. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," said Lance. "We keep going until the sun is high in the sky. Then I promise to rest."

"No," Nick said quietly, shaking his head, reaching out and grabbing Lance's arm, keeping him from moving further. He couldn't look at Lance, was afraid of what he'd see there. "He'll make himself sick if he keeps going. Lance, you're bleeding again. Please let us help. It's not a burden, you're not weak. Please?"

"Then we keep going until we reach a stream, how about?" suggested Lance. "I can keep going that long, at least. Then we can stop, and you can wash my back, and people can ... cool off. I'm still okay, Nick. I won't be a burden. I won't. All right?"

"You're not," Nick muttered, but waved Chris away when he headed towards them to investigate. JC was frowning, but started walking again when Nick let Lance move. He took as much of Lance's weight on his arm as he could reasonably handle, and sighed. "Stubborn," he growled a little at Lance. "Justin's happy to do it, and it's not a burden. Would you think HE was a burden if he couldn't walk?"

"That's different," insisted Lance, and obviously tried to lean less of his weight on Nick, and kept going. "This is me, and this is how I feel about it, and this is what I'm going to do. And please don't try to stop me, Nick. I do know my limits, and I haven't reached them yet."

"You really don't look good, Lance," said JC carefully.

"None of us look good," said Lance. "I'm going okay. We'll make it."

"You know bad limits," Nick insisted. "What happens if you faint? Then we have to figure out a way to carry you as dead weight. That would be much more of a burden than a little lift. If you don't stop bleeding really soon, I'm...I'm not going to TRY to stop you, you're too stubborn. I'll just." He tightened his arm and held Lance absolutely immobile for a long moment, making his point silently, before letting him move again.

"I thought being all big like you would be a pain, when we were getting out through the water and had to leave you all alone inside," JC said thoughtfully. "Now I see it has its good points."

"I don't want you to be mad at me," Nick whispered for Lance's ears alone. "Please don't make me."

"Then you just have to let me keep going until we reach a stream," insisted Lance. "Nick, please. I'm not lying to you, I'm doing okay. The bleeding is just because my blood is flowing again, like it wasn't while I was resting. It'll probably stop flowing soon. and then you can wash it when we reach the water."

"And that'll be really nice," mused JC. "It's kind of romantic. If it wasn't for the blood and all."

Howie giggled, then covered his mouth apologetically. "Sorry," he said. "It's just that it is kind of romantic, but the blood's all scary. So twisted." He shook his head, thoughtfully.

"Well, twisted or romantic or whatever," Nick realized he was blushing, "you're pale again, Lance, and I don't like it. So we'd better reach a stream soon, or I don't care HOW mad you get, you're not walking for much longer." He scowled impartially around, showing that he meant it.

"And how is YOUR back today," JC asked quietly, and Nick realized he hadn't even thought of it for some time.

"It's fine. Stretchy sore, not hurting too badly." He dismissed it. HE wasn't bleeding. "Does the hood make your head hot?"

"No hotter than it already was," said JC, scratching at his hood. "You get used to it, I guess. Still hurts sometimes. I wish we had some root."

"Does it ... does it really take away pain?" asked Howie uncertainly.

"It really does," Lance promised him. "And when we find the stream, I bet we'll find some of it." Then he reached up and pressed his hand flat against the skin between Nick's wings.

"HUH!" Nick gasped and jolted forward, away from the touch on the sorest place on his back, where all his weight had hung as he glided down from the wall. "Lance! What on earth?"

"Could we at least TRY to be a little quiet back there?" Chris's irritated voice drifted back to them. "You'd think we were going on a picnic or something. We're SNEAKING, here, you know!"

"Shhh," said Lance softly, pressing again. "The new muscles are all tight, that's why it's hurting as much as it is. They've never really been used before. Let me, Nick. I'll be careful. I promise."

"You're supposed to be walking!" Nick hunched his shoulders protectively, holding Lance closer to his side. "It hurts! And, you should be thinking about where your feet are going, anyway. And not bleeding."

"If you let him, he'll feel better," Joey was walking backwards, looking at them; he'd clearly been listening to the entire exchange. "Give him something else to think about. You can watch where your feet go."

"It'll hurt and then it won't anymore," said Lance. "Just let me, Nick. Okay? It'll feel good, I promise you."

"And he's smart and nice," said JC. "And I bet he knows lots of ways to make you feel good."

"Ooooh, naughty JC," Joey grinned, before he was tugged around by Justin's hand to walk normally again. Nick felt the blush spread up his neck and to his face and ears and by the time it stopped, he was sure he was as red as a beet.

"Okay," he muttered, just needing the subject to change. "Don't fall, though, or no more till we get to the stream." He stopped hunching his shoulders and let Lance touch him.

"Maybe you'll smile a little more," said Lance softly, "if you're comfortable. That would be nice, if you were smiling at me. How does that feel?" He hit a particularly sore spot, but Nick felt the tension start to release. It would probably work even better if they weren't walking, but unfortunately that wasn't an option.

He did smile, though, he couldn't help it, as another knot of tension started to unravel. "Thanks," he said quietly, letting his shoulders settle a little more. "You don't have to do this, you know. I'm really okay."

"Oh, just relax and enjoy it," JC said, sounding sleepy, ambling along at his side. "You're wound up tighter than a, than a bumblebee or something."

"I don't think bumblebees are really tense a lot of the time," murmured Lance, hitting another spot. He seemed to know when he hit them, too, even better than Nick did. "We would probably all do better to be a little bit like bumblebees."

"It would be a lot easier to hide that way, too," agreed JC.

"Okay, you guys are just getting *strange*," laughed Joey. "I hope we find that stream soon. I think Lance isn't the only one back there needing a rest."

"I slept for *hours*," JC yawned. "And we've only been walking for a little while. If we really were like bumblebees, we wouldn't be tired yet. They buzz around all day."

"We've walked pretty far, I think," Nick said, hoping Lance would take the hint. "That new guy is rubbing his head. Oh!" His eyes caught on familiar yellow flowers, and he dragged Lance to a halt. "Look! Black...black...poison roots! We've gotta get 'em."

"Oh!" said Lance, and his hand dropped away and that was the only bad thing about getting them to stop. "Oh, yes, yes, we definitely need to do that. Oh, oh no, do we have anything to carry them in?"

"We do," said Justin, catching up with them. "JC told me last night, with the extra sheets, I should make a bag or two. So I did."

"They're perfect," Joey said proudly. "Just big enough." He wandered after JC, who had already trotted off into the woods and was dragging the long, thin roots out of the ground. Justin was left beaming at Lance and Nick's side, and Nick risked a glance at him to catch a little of that smile.

"No," he was distracted from Justin by Lance moving again. "Sit, you. You're worse than my little brother when he broke his leg. He tried to climb a tree two days later. Idiots, both of you." He felt a lurch in his stomach at the thought of his brother. Did Aaron think he was dead, now?

"I'm just making sure you do it right," said Lance but, miraculously, he sat down. And even smiled a little. "You sit too, though. And the new guys should sit. The rest of them, they can take care of it, right?"

"Yes," Nick sighed in relief, more than willing to sit if it meant that Lance would stay down. He could see people settling around them, the newest ones collapsing, Chris still standing and jittering around the small clearing. "We've got more than enough hands to pick roots at this point. And more than enough mouths to eat them."

"Here." JC came jogging back, holding an unappetizing-looking root in his hands. "First one for Lance. Eat it all up, now."

Lance made a face at it, but then he brushed off the dirt and snapped off a piece for himself. "The first thing we're getting, when we find civilization?" he said. "Is a pot. And I'm making tea again. Here." He tried to hand the rest of the root back. "Pass it around, JC."

"Oh no, no, that's all yours," he said, and wouldn't take it. "There's lots, we'll bring more back. You're just ... you were bleeding."

"It's really not as bad as it looks," said Lance, but Nick noticed he didn't waste any time popping the piece of root in his mouth. Despite the dirt, and the taste.

He nodded thanks at JC, who wandered off to do more digging. "We should have brought one of the jugs," he thought out loud. "Only we don't have any fire anyway. Oh, never mind that." He sighed, and rested back against a big tree roots, wondering why nature always had to be so uncomfortable. At least it was shady and cool under the trees, and the sun was bright. "Don't you lie about how bad it is, either, Lance. I remember." Only he didn't, not really, and he was glad.

"Do they itch?" Justin was peering at Lance's wings. "It seems so strange. Like you got another set of arms or something."

"It feels a little bit like that," said Lance, scratching awkwardly at his shoulder. "If your arms were heavier and had feathers and grew all at once instead of taking your whole life. Then it would feel a little like this, I think. It's starting to ... just today, I'm starting to feel off balance, or something. Are they bigger?"

"Oh yeah," said Justin. "Since yesterday? Yeah, definitely."

"They'll grow real fast some days, and some days not at all," Nick told him quietly. "Feels like, anyway. I could never figure out why, just be really careful when you're standing up first thing in the mornings. You can tip over, and that's no fun at all."

"I guess you can't sleep on your back at all, huh?" Justin seemed fascinated, and almost reached out to touch. "Wow, that's gonna make sex tricky, no matter which way you try it."

"Justin ... " said Lance lowly, looking at Nick out of the corner of his eye. "I don't think we're really ... thinking about that, right now. But, I mean, it must *stop* at some point, right? They must stop growing, and hurting, at some point."

"I hope so." Nick stared vaguely off into the woods and pretended he'd never heard of a person named Justin. "Otherwise, before too long we won't be able to walk at all." He stretched his out to full extension, and for the first time it didn't hurt, just pulled and stretched pleasantly. "Mine are still growing, but they don't hurt. Lance, you fixed me!"

Lance practically beamed at him. "Oh, it helped?" he said. "Oh, that's so good, that's so great. You're practically all healed up now, you just need to do some kind of exercises with them, strengthen those muscles. Then you'll be fine." He seemed to lose his steam as the idea of wings being "fine" hit him. Especially since he had a pair of his own.

Justin picked up the thread of it, though. "It's great, when it stops hurting," he said. "You feel like you can really start going on again. Even though s-so much else has ch-changed." And he glanced at Joey.

Joey was picking roots, hands still sheathed in the rough mittens, oblivious to the fact that he was being looked at by all three of them. "It does make a difference, when it stops hurting," Nick agreed softly. "At least you can start thinking about other things, again. It'll be okay, Justin."

"I don't see how," Justin said dully, staring at the ground and twisting his fingers together. "He can't even touch me any more. He can't look at me. He barely even talks to me, I can tell it makes him upset."

Nick could tell what Lance was thinking, but he hoped that Justin couldn't, for his sake. It certainly didn't match up with what he was saying. "We still have a lot to get used to," he said. "We still need to find new ways of doing things. We shouldn't give up just yet."

"No matter how much we get used to it, it still doesn't change what we are," said Justin, but he visibly steeled himself and looked back at them again. "We have bigger things to worry about. Nick ... it's good that you're feeling better again. You look strong."

"I feel stronger," Nick agreed, happy for the change in subject. "I can't tell if it's because of the exercise or the massage or what, but I actually don't hurt as much as I did even a couple of days ago." He peered over his shoulders. "Maybe these things WILL be useful someday, after all." He smiled at Lance. "Thanks."

JC was handing roots to Brian and Howie, pausing for a few quiet words with each of them. They nibbled at the roots, and instantly made awful faces. Joey laughed, and grabbed JC around the shoulders, pulling him away from them and back towards the flowers.

"It looks like everyone has roots now," Nick said hastily, hoping to keep Justin's attention on him. "I guess we should get ready to go. Lance? Are you feeling better?"

Lance nodded his head, but he didn't look any different. Then again, he wasn't the one who'd been insisting on stopping in the first place. Stubborn bastard. "Maybe give me a little more root." Lance suggested, though, as he started trying to get up -- a lot of movement to little effect.

"Oh," said Justin, "oh yes, okay, let me get that for you. I'll be right back." And, naturally, he started straight for Joey. Nick sighed. A couple steps later Justin stopped dead in his tracks, but he didn't make a sound, didn't turn back. Instead, after a few moments of obvious indecision, he turned and started toward where the other group had congregated.

"Oh man," Nick muttered quietly to Lance, watching him go. "Oh man. Um. I really like them, Lance. Justin and Joey, I mean, and that doesn't look good." Joey and JC were touching completely innocently, but Joey had his arm draped over JC's shoulders, still, and playfully tugged at a bright strand of fire as JC giggled. Justin was still looking at them, even as he accepted another root from AJ.

"Yeah," said Lance softly. "But we knew ... we all kind of knew. That this might ... well, let's face it, that this would happen. I hate it too, Nick, but ... I don't even know what to say. It's terrible." He reached out his hand to Nick, obviously hoping he would take it. "Poor Justin."

Nick bit his lip, but then reached back, clasping Lance's fingers in his own. He couldn't help but notice that Lance's slim hand almost disappeared inside his own. Nice. "Poor Justin," he agreed, a little breathless at his own daring. "But. They were so in love. ARE so in love. Why can't they make it? Why did it have to happen to them? Not fair. They can still try, can't they?" Watching Joey's clear happiness at the contact with JC, though, he couldn't believe it himself.

"It's not like they're going to forget each other," said Lance, giving Nick's hand a gentle squeeze. "But they need someone to touch, Nick. I'm sure they'll try, they've *been* trying. But in the end it's going to come down to that. They both need someone they can look at and touch, and they can't have that with each other anymore. And ... it's *not* fair. It's not. It's terrible."

"Just think how hard it'll be to be around each other," Nick realized softly. "They have to be close, and never touch. It's like one of those sad songs the minstrels used to play when they came through town. Only then it was usually a prince and a fair maiden, and she was always turned into a swan." He twitched his wings. "I'm glad I didn't have someone, before...this. That they took me before I was married."

"I don't think that ... would that have even been the same thing?" Lance asked him carefully. "Could you ever have felt about her the way Justin and Joey feel about each other?" Then he looked down and shook his head. "You don't have to answer that. But you know what I mean."

Nick shrugged, a little uncomfortable. "Maybe not. I don't know, I never had a chance to find out. But still, I'd have been close to her, and then to have her unable to touch me, or look at me...that would hurt, even if we weren't what Joey and Justin are. It must be awful for them." He squeezed Lance's hand again, reassuring himself that he COULD. "Do you think...they were really...intimate?" He felt his cheeks heat up. "Probably a dumb question, huh?"

"No, not dumb," said Lance, sounding awfully patient and kind all of a sudden. "I'm pretty sure they were. I mean ... I can't imagine any reason why they wouldn't have been. It would be hard even if they were just close friends, but being what they are? You're right, just awful. I hope ... I hope they find a way to cope. I hope they find other things that can make them happy. That's the only way I can see this turning out well. But I don't think they're anywhere near ready to even think about that yet." He gave Nick a quick glance, then a little smile. "Then again, sometimes things happen faster than you think."

Nick fidgeted, still blushing. He was pretty sure Lance was talking about them, but he had no idea how to react. "Yeah," he finally muttered, watching Justin walk back towards them. "Like waking up with wings. And stuff. We'll have to be really nice to Justin, I think. Joey can touch all the ones with flames, but only AJ and Chris and Kevin can look at him. And he can't hide it, not unless he wears a mask." He frowned. "I wonder what he looked like before they changed his face?"

"Probably still beautiful," murmured Lance, averting his eyes just away from Justin's face and speaking lowly so he wouldn't be overheard. "But I think that goes without saying, for most of you. Maybe Joey will talk about it, one day."

"Hey," said Justin, giving them a tiny smile that Nick just barely saw as he got close. "You guys look cute. Here's your root, Lance."

"Thanks, Justin," Nick said, smiling at him as well as he could while focusing on his chin, ignoring the 'cute' comment. "I appreciate it."

"No problem." Justin flopped down next to them, apparently oblivious to the fact that they'd been talking privately, or just not caring. He didn't look in Joey's direction, though Nick watched his long, strong fingers pluck nervously at the ragged hem of his pants. They were nice hands. Nick wondered if admitting he liked Lance meant that now he'd think all boys were cute.

"So are y'all good now?" Justin's voice broke into the sound of Lance crunching the root. "Together, and stuff? Must be nice."

"We're just ... I don't know," said Lance, which was good because Nick wasn't sure he would've been able to say *any*thing. "But we're good. Better. Yeah, we're good now. Justin ... "

"No, don't say it," Justin interrupted him. "I don't think it's anything I want to hear. You happy?"

Lance hesitated even longer before answering this time. "About some things, yeah, I am. Things are still, you know, hard, though."

Nick watched them talk back and forth like a ball bouncing, and hung on to Lance's hand. He didn't really know what Lance was talking about, some things happy, some things hard, but he was willing to accept the general sentiment, and nodded when he sensed Justin was glancing at him.

"Well, yeah," Justin answered Lance. "It's not like this is anyone's ideal situation or anything. I'm REALLY hungry, for one thing." As if in answer, Nick's stomach growled warningly, reminding him that he hadn't eaten since the afternoon before.

"Me too," he said plaintively, resting a hand over his stomach.

"You guys should find something, while we're stopped, then," said Lance. "I thought I saw some star apple bushes nearby. They're a little sour, but they'll fill you up. I can just ... sit here for a little while longer. I'll be okay."

"Are you sure?" asked Justin. "Really sure? Because ... that's not a bad idea. Nick?"

"All right." Nick let go of Lance's hand, reluctantly, and pushed himself to his feet. "Just sit there and let the roots do their magic, or whatever," he warned Lance. "And don't try to stand up. You'll tip." He glanced over his shoulder to make sure Lance was listening, but it wasn't necessary; Lance had tipped his head back against a tree and his eyes were closed.

"I really don't want him walking any more," he told Justin quietly, reaching for one of the star apples.

"Is he doing that bad?" asked Justin, turning his head to look back at Lance, too. "I haven't been watching him as closely as you have. Do you need me to carry him again? I can ... it's not a problem. It's not like I have anything else to do with my hands as we walk."

Nick winced a little in sympathy, but nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I do, it's not just that he's doing so bad, but if he keeps pushing like this he'll just fall down at some point. The only problem is getting him to admit he needs the help." He looked sideways at the muscles in Justin's arms flexing as he picked fruit. "I wonder if he'd buy that you needed the exercise. He almost pitched a fit last time, remember. The moron."

"I won't ask, then," said Justin, biting into a piece of fruit and wiping the juice off his chin with his wrist. "I'll just scoop him up in my arms. With your blessing, of course. For all I know, you may be wanting to carry him yourself now. Hm?"

"I, ah." Nick shook his head. "I don't think I can, yet. I'd need to put him on my back, and that's just...no. But you can pick him up all you want. Just watch out, I bet he's a kicker." He took a huge bite of the apple himself. "I appreciate it," he mumbled. "I'm all worried about him, which is probably silly, since he's a grown man and all..."

"No, it's not silly," said Justin solemnly. "I worry about Joey, too, and he's a grown man. Been a grown man longer than Lance has, even. It's just a part of having feelings for them. He'll be okay, though, as long as you out-stubborn him."

Nick snorted, and almost spit apple all over Justin. "Yeah, right," he said, once his mouth was clear. "Have you met Lance? I don't think anyone can outstubborn him." He thought for a moment. "You know, he's good to talk to about...stuff. If you ever wanted to, you know, if you were worried about Joey or whatever. I'm, um. I'm sorry things are hard for you guys."

Justin shrugged; Nick was able to see that, at least, even if he couldn't see his facial expressions. "Thanks," he mumbled. "I don't know. I don't think there's anything for me to talk to him about. It's good that *you* can talk to him, though. I know you had ... um. Things. Problems. Stuff."

"Kinda, yeah," Nick said with a tip of his head. "But really, JC kind of helped more with that stuff. Lance was too, like..." he waved his hand helplessly. "All tied up in it or something. They're not all fixed yet, but it's better." Nick flushed a little. "He kissed me." That was big news, after all, and he had to share it with SOMEone.

"Yeah?" said Justin, sounding maybe even a bit excited and eager about the news. "That's great, Nick, that's really ... so you like him, then? For real? That's ... I bet he's real happy about that ... "

"I guess," Nick said softly, glancing back to where Lance was still resting. "I think he is. I don't know, everything's so crazy now. I don't need to be figuring out this whole new insane thing while we're running away and kind of busy with more important stuff. But it was really nice." He looked at Justin sideways again, realized that he could see most of his face without pain. "How did you know that Joey was...you know. The one, the special person?"

"Oh, I don't know," said Justin, sounding a little shy and a little awed all of a sudden. "He just ... was. I felt -- feel -- all these things for him. He's wonderful and amazing and special. He makes my heart pound. He makes me smile ... mostly. He, um, turns me on."

"Oh." Nick realized it was occasionally nice to have an excuse not to look at someone right in the face. "Wow. That sounds like really...wow. You're really lucky." He finished his apple, tossed the pit, and started another. He didn't care if they made him sick, he was HUNGRY. "He sounds amazing. Did you hear JC's idea, about a place for us? Do you think the two of you will stay?"

"i guess I go wherever Joey goes," said Justin, staring on another himself. "You feel that way about Lance, a little? I know it's still real soon, but seems like you like him a lot. And he likes you back. And who better to be with than someone who's just like you, right?"

"Yeah," Nick admitted. "He understands. It's nice. I don't know about that other stuff yet, but...he's awful smart, and nice, and plus, gorgeous." He smacked himself in the head, lightly. "I can't believe I just said that about a man. But yeah. I like him a lot. I'll miss him so much."