Humanity has always had wings, though not everyone knows how to fly. Throughout history, humans who could fly became known as heroes, preforming great and fantastical deeds for their gods or their people or themselves.
No one can be taught to fly. One is either born with the knowledge to fly or they are not. It is an inherent ability that is not inherited from parent to child.
Thousands of studies have been conducted throughout history as to why some people can fly, why most can't, and why humans were gifted wings in the first place. Ancient Peoples declared that wings were gifted to humans by their gods, though they were revoked of their flight when they slighted the powers that be. Modern scientists have a running theory that sometime between Australopithecus Afarensis and Homo Habilis, human ancestors developed the need for flight and therefore adapted over the course of several generations.
Since humans started their research into why they have wings, they have never been able to find sufficient answers to all of their questions. This hasn't stopped them from finding workarounds, though. Airplanes for the ninety-percent of the population how can't fly, strict laws and enforcement policies for those who can. And when heroes started to appear in the modern world, they were given even stricter guidelines to follow.
All this to say, many of the questions that were asked have been unanswered, not for lack of trying, but for lack of actual answers.
There is one thing that humans know for sure: To violate a humans wings is to basically kill them. It is a crime punished by life imprisonment.
Those who've had their wings destroyed never continue living happy lives. They're shunned by their peers, usual under the guise of assistance. They're treated as though they are incapable of completing the smallest of tasks on their own. They usually die young.
But those who've had their wings ripped away from them? They die even younger, almost always by their own hand. They are treated as the worst of society, looked upon as though they're walking corpses.
The punishment for taking someone's wings is death.
Jason stumbled upon him a few weeks ago. He was in an alley, beat to hell and bleeding so much it was a miracle he hadn't died already. He'd been shivering something fierce, from the cold or fear, Jason hadn't been sure. He was curled behind a dumpster with his head buried in his knees, crying silently.
Honestly, if he hadn't chosen to hide behind the same dumpster, he'd never have know the kid was there.
So, once Batman had given up on looking for him for the night, Jason had turned his full attention on the kid. "Are you okay?"
It was a stupid question in most situations, but it was a good way to assess what was going on.
The kid didn't answer, instead curling up tighter.
Jason'd shuffled a bit, careful to keep his wings pulled tightly to him so they didn't make too much noise. "Will you let me help you?"
Another important question to ask. Better than asking 'can I help you', especially in the Alley, because that offers the choice of refusal.
The kid still hadn't said anything, but he did move his head and peak an eye and Jason. It was the most chilling shade of blue he'd ever seen. The kid's eye looked like it was a sheet of ice instead of a human eye.
"Can I ask your name?"
Again, giving the option to say 'no'.
The kid shook his head and Jason said, "Okay, that's cool, I get it." Then, "My name's Red Hood." A beat. "You're eye's really pretty."
The kid blushed and looked away, but he didn't burrow into his knees again.
"Is it naturally that color?" A nod. "Are they both that color?" The kid shook his head. Jason hummed. "Is your other one...purple?" The kid smiled, but shook his head, so Jason guess again, "Yellow? Pink? Red? Red would be badass."
The kid shook his head to all of the colors, finally looking up completely. His other eye was the color of mint and sage.
"How in the world did you manage to get eyes like that?" He hadn't meant for it to come out like that, but it was too late to shut himself up. He flinched. "Sorry, that sounded-"
The kid wasn't making a sound still, but he looked like he was laughing.
Jason huffed. "Yeah, yeah. Laugh at my misery." He smiled under his helmet, "Do you want to go somewhere warmer? I've got a safe house near here you can stay in." He didn't offer the location of his safe houses to anyone, not even the Outlaws or even Dick. But something told him this kid was trustworthy. Something told him to help this kid, so that's what he was going to do.
The kid nodded and slowly uncurled from himself. As he moved, Jason could see a greater extent of any injuries and he could feel the green trying to push it's way to the forefront. That hadn't happened in a while. Who would dare hurt a child?
The kid wasn't covered in blood, but there was still a lot of the stuff staining through his shirt. He was barefoot, as Jason already saw, and the clothing he was wearing was thread-bare.
"You know how to write?" Jason asked. The kid glared, but nodded. Jason held out his hand, "You wanna write down something for me to call ya?"
For a minute, the kid didn't move. That's okay, though. He could take as long as he wanted. Then, gently, he reached out to Jason's palm, took off his glove, and, with a touch as light as a feather, he wrote D-A-N-N-Y.
"Danny?" A nod. "Nice to meet ya, kid. Let's get outta here, yeah?"
Danny had been staying in the safe house since then. He didn't so much as make a noise, let alone talk, and the only reason Jason even knew he was still there was because the kid made himself visible at all times. Honestly, if he didn't know any better, he'd've thought Danny could turn himself invisible. Nevertheless, while it wasn't his main apartment, it was nice to have some company. He'd even taken his domino off on day two and introduced himself as Jason.
Danny was a great roommate, total silence notwithstanding. No matter how many times Jason insisted he just relax and heal, Danny insisted on helping out by cooking or cleaning and even offering to patch him up after patrol.
There was one thing he didn't do, though, and that was care for Jason's wings.
Jason hated his wings. He used to love them, as a kid, when they were whole and he could fly. They carried him for miles whenever he needed an escape. But after he'd died...
That was another reason he was still so angry with Bruce about the damn clown still being alive. After capturing him, he'd ripped out half of his secondary flight feathers and broken the pinion joint in both wings, rendering Jason unable to fly in the off chance he survived the explosion.
Not that living did any good. Dying, being revived, being healed. None of it mattered because he still couldn't fly.
Danny loved Jason's wings. He didn't say it, by Jason could tell by the glances he'd seen the kid throw them. And, really, he couldn't blame him. After all, Danny didn't have wings.
He didn't know what happened, and he found himself scared to ever find out. Who could do such a thing and get away with it? Only someone as sick as the Joker would and Jason hated that the kid had had to deal with something like that. He almost hated that the kid had to live after having his wings taken from him.
Jason didn't ask and Danny didn't share. Danny didn't ask and Jason didn't share. Neither were completely discrete in their curiosity, but they found a balance and lived with it.
Besides, Jason knew that if he was asked, he'd go off on a tangent of complaints and he didn't want to subject Danny to that. After all, who is he to really complain? At least he still has his wings.
At the end of their second week of existing in the same space, Danny sat Jason down on the couch with a stare that could see through souls. Slowly, gently, with his touch still lighter than a feather, Danny took Jason's hand in his and wrote on the palm of his hand.
Jason's week had been horrible. There was another breakout at Arkham and now Scarecrow and Two-Face were both hiding out somewhere, Black Mask had decided to try his luck just outside Crime Alley, and some idiot in the government sent a research team to Blackgate and then declared everyone inside as 'Ecto Contaminated' before locking down the whole island. The same government idiot was steadily sending out groups into Gotham and taking people right off the streets.
Overall, it was shitty week.
And to top it all off, everyone was back in the Manor, meaning that the skies were more full than they'd been in months.
He wasn't stupid. He knew what everyone being back meant and he wasn't the slightest bit happy about it.
The green of the Pit was similar to the green envy he felt when he saw the others in they sky. They weren't the same, but they overlapped and worked together more often than not anymore. He wished he could fly with the others. He made sure, while everyone was in one place, to keep to himself in the Alley. It wouldn't do to hurt anyone again. If they wanted him, they could come to him, but they aren't, so he'd not going to bother.
Danny was holding his hand now. The second he'd come in through the window, the kid had taken his helmet and made him sit down. Then, after methodically checking him over and treating his wounds, he'd stood there and stared at him.
"Can I help you?" Jason asked.
Danny didn't say anything, obviously, but he shake his head and take Jason's hand.
"You want to help me?" A nod. "You already have."
Danny shook his head again and sat on the edge of the beat up coffee table. He took Jason's glove off and, with his touch lighter than a feather, he wrote out. H-U-R-T.
"I'm not hurt-"
W-I-N-G-S
That, that made Jason freeze. "..what?"
Danny dropped Jason's hand and reared back like he'd been slapped. He stood and stumbled away, mouthing words he couldn't say, though Jason say "sorry" and "won't ask again" a few times.
Quickly, he followed after Danny. "Sh, sh,sh. No, it's-it's okay I was just- I didn't expect that is all."
Danny didn't look convince. Jason didn't feel convinced.
"My wings've been like this for a while. They don't hurt." He offered his hand again in case Danny wanted to respond.
He did. H-U-R-T he spelled again, Y-O-U H-U-R-T
"A bit, yeah, but I'm used to it."
G-R-E-E-N Danny spelled. He didn't stop when Jason froze up again. H-U-R-T Y-O-U W-I-N-G-S H-E-L-P
Jason resisted the urge to pull his hand back and step away. This was a conversation they were having and it wouldn't be much of a conversation if he was the only one able to communicate. "How do you know about the green."
M-E T-O-O
"..what?"
S-I-M-I-L-A-R
"But not the same?"
Danny shook his head. S-I-M-I-L-A-R
Jason inhaled shakily. "That doesn't explain how you know."
For a few minutes, Jason wasn't sure he was going to respond. But, just before he could say anything, Danny opened his mouth and, after a few false starts, hoarsely whispered, "I died, too."
Seems they have a lot more in common than he first thought.
Gently, Jason led Danny back to the couch and sat him down before going to get him some water. When he came back, he sat next to him and said, "I was fourteen."
Danny sipped his water. "Me, too." His voice was still scratchy and probably wouldn't last much longer, but it was monumental progress.
"Can I ask what happened?"
"Lab accident. You?"
"Joker got me."
"'m sorry."
"Don't be. It's not your fault."
They didn't speak again for a while, just ruminating in their own memories.
Jason couldn't believe the shit people could get away with anymore. The Joker had claimed diplomatic immunity and been let off the hook. Whoever hurt the kid, Jason could tell by his reactions to the white suits wandering Gotham, was being paid to keep doing that shit. Whatever happened to "life imprisonment"? Or was that just for show? A fear tactic that didn't have any backing.
Danny put down his cup and took Jason's hand again. W-I-N-G-S
It took another few minutes before he could find it in himself to answer. Then, he moved to sit on the floor and let his wings extend outwards. "Okay, kid. Knock yourself out."
My wings have been feeling very white recently. Not too sure why. Usually theyre brown and sorta speckled like hawk wings and theyre pretty big but recently they've felt whiter and softer and maybe a foot or two smaller
(my usual wingspan is around 15ft but its been feeling closer to 12)
