Burning Wings (Discontinued Until Further Notice)

Chapter Ten: Your Wish and His Wish

"Mitch? Biggums? Can I come in?" Jerome asked again, knocking on his door.

Mitch's wings were twitching sporadically as he frantically looked around his room for a way to hide his wings. Because Mitch knew that Jerome wasn't going to leave him alone unless he knew his best friend was okay. Mitch also knew that Jerome was 100% capable of breaking door off of its hinges (he did it to Jason's door once when Jason locked himself if his room after stealing Jerome's candy bar).

Mitch cursed under his breath, not finding anything that would conceal his wings. The covers...? No, it's about noon already... Jerome would just yank them off of me... Think Mitch think... He thought, followed by more knocking on his door.

Mitch sighed as he thought of something. Something crazy enough that it might work... I just need to lure Jerome away from here. Mitch thought as he walked up to the door. "What do you want Jerome?"

The knocking on the door suddenly stopped, followed by Jerome stuttering. "M-Mitch, umm, the others were just wondering if you wanted to join in on a recording with Jason, Adam, Quentin, and I. You and I haven't played together in a while so I thought..."

Mitch bit his lip. "No thanks Jerome, I'm recording on my own today. Might call up Mat or Ryan to play with me."

Mitch felt an instant sense of guilt, instantly regretting adding that last lie in his excuse. He heard a faint stutter from Jerome, who was struggling to form words. Jerome instead let out a loud sigh, before Mitch heard the sound of footsteps leading away from his room. A few seconds later, Mitch heard the sound of footsteps coming back to his door.

"Mitch... Are you okay?" Jerome said just loud enough for Mitch to hear.

"I'm fine-" Mitch said, before he was cut off by Jerome.

"You're so lying Mitch and I know it!" Jerome hissed. Mitch felt his heart sink at the seriousness in Jerome's voice. He wasn't used to Jerome being angry, or upset.

"I'm not ly-"

"Mitch. Something is wrong. It's not just me who has noticed you know. We all have. You're isolating yourself, you're sleeping in much later than usual, and you're just. Acting. Weird." Mitch remained silent, not knowing what to say, his mouth just forming silent words. "The others asked me to talk to you, because they know, make that thought, you would talk to me. Because I am your best friend Mitch, and you can tell me anything."

That last part had make Mitch's eyes tear up again. "L-leave me alone... please..." He choked.

Jerome was silent. "I'm going to tell the others that you're okay. Only because I'm your best friend, and because you are mine. But if you ever want to talk to me biggums... just... talk. I'll always be there to listen." With that, Mitch heard Jerome's footsteps move away from his door, and this time, Mitch knew that Jerome wasn't coming back. Mitch walked over to his bed and sat on the end of it, trying to hold back the tears that were on the brink of releasing.

I wish I could tell you about these biggums... Mitch thought, as his wings laid wide open behind him, one of them bent up against the wall.

I wish I could tell you I was an angel. I wish I could tell you that I'm essentially a ghost. I wish I could tell you that I can take you flying at night. I wish I could tell you about Weiss. I wish I could tell you that I have already died once, and that this is just my second chance. I wish I could tell you everything.

But then you would want to tell the others about it, because you hate lying, and you hate secrets. But then what if you or any of the others think I'm a freak?

I'm lucky that I have Ian and Weiss to back me up. To help me. I want you to be there to, even more than the others. But I just can't. Not yet. Possibly not ever.

Mitch was crying freely now. But he didn't do anything about the tears. He just let them run down his cheeks.

I am so sorry biggums... bacca... Jerome... my best friend... But I just can't tell you.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mitch let out a groan as he struggled to push up his window, which was stuck halfway open. "Open dammit!" He hissed, pushing it with all of his strength.

There were few things he knew about his possibly supernatural angel...ness.

One was that his wings could be the ultimate doodlebangers. Messing up his recordings and making him feel like a jerk for lying to his friends... But he couldn't complain with the awesomeness that was flying.

Two, was that he was lighter. Mitch had noticed this the other day, well more like Adam did, when Adam had carried Mitch to the bathroom after the Bean Boozled challenge. Adam had noted that Mitch felt much, much lighter than usual. Mitch found this strange, but he weighed himself later, seeing that he did in fact lose about forty pounds, but his body was unaffected, and it wasn't causing any problems. He didn't even look like he had lost any weight at all, looking like he was average weight.

Three, was that he strangely (but Mitch thought what really could be too strange at this point) was healing much faster than any human should. He noticed it when he was weighing himself. The scars and many, many bruises from the accident were completely healed. The worst left on his body was a big, pale white scar on Mitch's chest, where the truck had hit him the worst. But Mitch knew that the scar was going to be there for as long as he lived. But he had managed to cut himself up while struggling to get the window open, and Mitch watched in awe as they healed in just seconds, right in front of his eyes. To Mitch, it was both odd, weird, and very cool.

Lastly, he had become a lot stronger. He wasn't Hulk strong, or Superman strong, but he was easily able to move around his bed, his dresser, anything in his room really. He didn't even have to break a sweat. He thought that it might have been the reason why Ian seemed so light when Mitch had been flying him around.

That was why Mitch was screaming at a simple window that he couldn't open.

Finally, Mitch drew back his arm, yelling, "DAMN YOU WINDOW!!!" Mitch's fist flew though the window, sending glass shards everywhere. Mitch cursed loudly as he drew his hand back, shaking the glass everywhere. Growling, he tried once more to open the window.

The window opened with ease.

"Oh you son of a-"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ian yawned as he sat up in his bed, rubbing his eyes as he swung his legs over the side of his bed. He stood up, grabbing a band from his dresser and pulling his hair into a messy ponytail.

Ian froze as he heard a loud tapping sound on his window. Raising an eyebrow, Ian walked over, drawing open his curtains with another yawn. His eyes widened and he jumped back with a loud yell. Mitch was flying outside of his window, in broad daylight, with an unreadable expression on his face. He was pointing to the lock on the bottom of the window.

Getting the message, Ian quickly opened the window ("How the hell did he do it so easily?" Mitch mumbled angrily), poking his head out of it. "Mitch...?" Ian started. "Why are you out here? Flying? In front of my window? In plain sight?"

Mitch rolled his eyes. "Listen Ian," he whispered. "We may have ourselves a problem."