A Bird Without Wings

[Danny Larkin]

Danny sat slumped low in one of the theater seats in the empty cinema, staring through the dark at the credits that rolled across the movie screen. They had already been going for a few minutes, and he was trying to decide if he was bored enough of the flash of names to put in a new movie, or lazy enough to just sit and watch the white lettering. So far he the lazy was winning. He shifted position slightly, adjusting the position of his wings. The seat had been modified so that he adjust it for his wings, narrowing the back and shifting the arms. It was much more comfortable than sitting on the wings, lying on the floor, or standing in the back. Which is what he used to have to do. Another plus of these seats was that they made it almost impossible to see the wings from behind, preventing them from getting in the way of seeing the movie.

The boredom was finally getting to him. Frustrated, he shifted position again, trying to talk himself into just getting up and changing the stupid movie. C'mon, Danny, you can do it. Swap out the movie and you can get back to the...sorta-comfy seat. Realizing he was pep-talking himself, he sighed and began to slide out of the seat. A new idea suddenly occurred to him and he froze, twisting around to check if anyone was in the room. It didn't look like it, and he frowned. He had to be absolutely sure, though, before he moved. "Hello? Anyone here?"

[Seth Turner]

It seemed counter productive, to seclude himself in a room with no hope of attention or contact. At least, it was when he was on the verge of a meltdown. He sunk lower in his chair, his eyes still not adjusted to the darkness of the room. His hands curled into fists, knuckles turning white as he could feel the tremors run through his body. He could feel it, the desperation rising up inside of him, rattling against him, his mind an empty shell, devoid of rational thought. He needed something to make it stop. To make the throbbing in his head end. He ran a hand over his face, grimacing. Self-loathing tore at him, but he pushed it aside. This was who he was, this was who his parents and his powers had made him to be. There was no point in being ashamed.

The insatiable need burned within him, pushing him up. He needed to find someone, to touch them, take just a little. Just a little, until he could calm himself. Then the cycle would begin again. Only for so long. He could never win for long. He moved to stand up, to get out of the oppressive darkness that weighed on him heavily. A voice cut through the air, hesitant. Power. It cut through him savagely, his senses alert, feeling it in the air. Someone was there, and that someone could help him. If he could just get close enough to absorb…

"That was straight out of some kind of cheap horror flick." He joked, letting his voice ring loud and clear, no sign of the internal war that was being waged. Seth steeled himself, unclenching his fists and taking a deep breath. He stood, furrowing his brow, eyes narrowed as he tried to make out the person that was with him in the room. He could feel the power, but since he barely had control over his ability, he didn't know what kind of gift this other person had. Hopefully it wasn't something that could blow him to bits before he could close. He offered a smile, white teeth flashing from the dull light of the movie screen. "The movie choice is bad, you gonna do something about it, or am I?"

[Danny Larkin]

Danny started in surprise at the voice, and twisted further to see who it was. His eyes were adjusted enough to the dark that he could tell it was a boy somewhere near his own age and height, but little else. Amused, Danny flashed a smile the boy wouldn't see, and rolled his shoulders in a shrug, not hesitating to play along, "Hey, you watch those old horror movies long enough, and you can't help it. In a little while, I'll tell you it's quiet...too quiet."

Curious, Danny twisted further around, as far as he could go without having to move his wings (setting them back would be a pain in the neck) as he squinted harder at the other boy. He didn't think knew the voice, which meant he was either being thick, it was someone new. He hoped it was the second - and not just so he'd feel better. The light of the credits allowed him only a brief glimpse of the white teeth that accompanied a smile and a comment against the movie. Danny chuckled, putting on a jokingly defensive tone as he decided that, whoever the new guy was, he liked him. "The movie choice was great five minutes ago. When, you know, stuff was happening." That being said, of course, he wasn't going to pass up the chance to continue being lazy. "I vote you take care of it. I picked the last movie, and you're already on your feet anyway. But if you're going to do it, go fast; if the lights come, I'll be blind."

Having giving his acquiescence to the new movie choice, Danny returned to his comfortable slump, adding over his shoulder. "I'm Danny, by the way."

[Seth Turner]

Seth chuckled at the joke, so in tune with his own. Obviously the guy was close to his age and had a sense of humor. Considering what Seth was planning to do, it was a good thing this guy could take a joke. Of course, Seth wasn't joking, this was serious. "Well let me know if something jumps out behind me, I'll make a dash for it." He smirked and shook his head, surprised that he was letting himself be so corny. He rarely had a conversation like this, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he enjoyed it. The thought was ignored and pushed to the side, there was no time for enjoyment and no time for friends. Friends were something normal people had. Seth had never been normal and had never wanted to be normal. He liked being unique, special… Most of the time.

"Ahh, well that would explain it then. And of course, since I'm up, I'll happily take care of for you and your lazy habits." He teased, chuckling. The other guy obviously didn't want to get up, he was perfectly content to let Seth take care of cuing up another movie. Although Seth had no intention of starting a new movie. Once he got some power to sedate the clawing urgency within him, he was bolting. Hopefully, in the dark, the guy wouldn't recognize him if they ever crossed paths again. There was always a hope of that happening. Though it wasn't very realistic.

He nodded his head at the name, but made no move to offer his own. He walked up the narrow walkway towards the back of the theatre, where Danny was sitting. His eyes still struggled to adjust to the light, all he could make out were the shapes barely defined by the white letters glowing on the screen. Just as Seth drew even with the seat, the lights flickered on. He cursed his luck but turned towards Danny. He froze. Terror widened his eyes and with the fear coursing through him he had nothing left to control the withdrawals. His entire body shook, quaking, swaying, and barely managing to stay upright.

The white wings were stretched out in what looked like an awkward position. They might have appeared to be some kind of prop, if not for the feathers fluttering and the muscles so evidently moving. Wings. Flying. He could feel the pain pierce his body and he let out a gasp. He remembered what it was like to be up in the sky, no control, nothing to keep him up there. Crashing down, the feeling of helplessness with nothing to save him. His right hand reached to his left arm, feeling the scars that told of that day. He stumbled back, away from him. "Looks like I stepped right into a horror movie." He hissed, fear making his voice shake.

[Danny Larkin]

Yep, Danny liked this guy. Anyone willing to joke about being eaten by imaginary monsters/killed by some unknown psycho with a butcher knife (Because, really, how else do people die in horror movies?) was alright in his book. And the guy's second joke made Danny snort, shaking his head in feigned hurt. "You'd leave me here to be killed? That hurts, man, right here." He thumped his chest over his heart to show he meant it, and then smirked. He loved being able to just goof-off with people, it was something he'd only discovered he was good at fairly recently. Like all new talents, Danny thought it should be nurtured and practiced so as to reach its full potential. Whether the other person in the conversation liked it or not.

The other boy's agreement to fix the movie made Danny smile wider, only aided by his comment about Danny's laziness. Danny winked, realized it wouldn't be seen, and spread his arms in a shrug instead. "If this relationship is going to work, you should know my faults from the start." He chuckled, realizing how that sounded, and tacked on a joking, "No homo." The boy's movement toward him was followed only by Danny's eyes, which narrowed slightly when he received no answering name. As he drew level, Danny opened his mouth to probe for a name, but was stopped as the lights flashed on.

"Ow! Son of a-gah!" Danny's hands leapt to his face as the light made his eyes water. He turned to squint at No-Name, a joke about being too slow already on his lips. It froze there when he saw the terror on the other's face. For a second he thought it was still a joke about something sneaking in to kill them, and he smiled, once again starting to say something jokingly. And once again paused at the guy's reaction - a gasp and one hand grabbing the opposite arm. Now thoroughly confused, Danny jumped to his feet, his wings shaking themselves slightly to loosen the ache that had grown while he sat. He wasn't sure what he could do to help, but Danny thought if the other guy way going to pass out, Danny wanted to be able to do something to help.

"Are you okay?" His question was met with a shaky, frightened comment about stepping into a horror movie, and it slowly dawned on Danny that it was him the boy was so scared of. That just confused him even more, and he spread his hands out to the side in what he hoped was a calming motion as he edged a few steps forward. "Look, I'm not...gonna do anything to you, or...or anything. Just relax, okay?" The words seemed insufficient to Danny, but he just didn't know what else to do.

[Seth Turner]

It would've been so simple to be friends. Just tell his name and act like it was an everyday occurrence. Without the jabs and the scathing remarks. No stealing powers just for a quick fix. A real friend who could help him out of the hard times and who eventually, might understand what he was going through. When Seth first learned the nature of his power, he had thought about others like him. Not just people with powers, but others with the gift of absorption. Did they all develop a dependency on the feeling, an addiction? Or was he just so messed up, so far beyond repair, that he did it to himself? He shook off the haze induced by his withdrawals. They always drudged up old thoughts and feelings, just another way to make the experience even more painful.

He shrugged his shoulders with a grin. "Hey, it's all about whoever runs faster. And I gotta say, I got the sprint down." The words came out so easily, like they were practiced and like he did this kind of thing all the time. It made him think, that if he wanted, under different circumstances, they could have been friends. It was a stupid thought, and one that he banished the second it came. Idiot. He nodded his head with an amiable smile on his lips, though the effect was lost in the pitch dark that covered the room.

"Ah, I would tell you mine, but the list gets kind of long." He smirked, his tone joking and the mood light. The sad part was, it was true. He had an endless list of faults, things that were wrong with him and that couldn't be changed. He was stuck with himself the way he was, and there was no way he was going to let anyone see everything that plagued him day in and day out. It was his problem and he wasn't going to pass it off to someone he didn't know, just so they could turn around and spread it all over the campus. Seth could imagine the rumors and the renewed hatred that already came with his particular gift.

The revelation hit him so quickly he could barely stay standing. Lying back as they were, the wings looked almost harmless. Seth knew different. He knew how dangerous it was, how much flying could ruin someones life. How much flying had ruined his life. His best friend. He could still see her, trying to cheer him up. "Come on Mikey, it'll be fun…" She was the only one who could get away with calling him that. He had nearly died from the fall after absorbing her power and then… she had just left. Anger mingled with the fear within him, running him ragged.

He couldn't process the words. He couldn't understand this Danny wasn't exactly like her, wasn't going to hurt him exactly how she had. Nothing made sense. Danny stood up and the wings spread out in full force. Dangerous. He cowered back, looking for a way out, but the only way, was past them. Past him. He lunged for the small gap. Hope. Escape.

No such luck. Skin brushed skin and the electric shock sent him to the ground. Writhing on the cinema floor, he saw the flash of light; bright white across his eyes. The world stilled, stopped spinning for all he knew. Nothing made a sound, everything stopped. Time itself? Maybe. He knew what was happening. He was taking the power, but the rush that usually accompanied such an event wasn't coming. It was desolate, his heightened paranoia and anger blocking all else out.

Pain knifed into his back, two separate lines, dragging all the way down. He let out a cry and his glazed eyes rolled back. Clawing savagely, he tried to tear at his shoulder blades, the source of the torture. It continued. Something formed there, protruding and tearing open his flesh, blood trickled down, crimson evidence. His back arched up, the growths pushing him to his knees. A weak muscle spasm shook the new limbs, they opened with a snap. Wings.

[Danny Larkin]

The one problem Danny had with his own "I've decided so-an-so is now my best friend" attitude was that he could never be sure if the new best friend shared the feeling. The continued jokes from the latest New Best Friend made Danny assume - knowing the dangers of it - that it was safe to say this was a friend. Or on the way, at least. This was only added to by the easy joke about the boy's faults. He chuckled and shook his head, "Well, now, don't torture me with the boring details." A joke, really, because he would have been willing to sit through the list if the guy had started. It made people feel better to vent now and again, and Danny liked to know things about people. Not that he would use the information for anything, really, he just liked to know what he could.

The guy looked terrified, and Danny could tell his words weren't getting through - the boy didn't relax, didn't even seem like he was willing to blink. The soft noise of his wings only made everything worse, the boy ducking back as his eyes moved past Danny toward the exit. No one had ever reacted that badly to seeing him, and he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. Calm him down, he supposed. Somehow. He shifted position to edge forward again, still repeating the same command to Calm down.... It was apparently ignored, as the guy lunged at Danny, making the winged-man flinch in surprise.

He felt the brief brush of the other's skin against his...and the world turned black.

It wasn't even the gentle fading of passing out, no tunnel swallowing what he could see. Everything just blinked away. Something thumped deafeningly in his ears. My heart. The thought was vague, someone else's floating outside reality. Inside, where the noise slowly drove him insane, he could feel something leaving him to the same beat. He couldn't tell what was leaving - didn't care - but it made him sick, made his stomach turn sour and his throat tighten...

A scream jerked him back to reality and he realized he was on his hands and knees, shaking all over. His wings felt weird, limp and tired, like he'd been flying way too long. A short shake of his head cleared the last of the rushing, and he rocked back to sit on his heels, still fighting back the last urge to be sick. What he saw distracted him completely from any ill feelings. He had never seen what his wings looked like spread out - not really - but he finally had an appreciation for it. The scream had come from the guy, from the pain of new wings breaking through too quickly. There was blood to prove that, too, and on the boy's hands where it appeared he had clawed at his back. Why did he suddenly sprout wings, though? The thought was still sort of vague, still not completely Danny's. It made his own wings shift weakly, though, aching as they moved. ...and it dawned on him: the feeling of loss, the weakness...He gaped at the wings anew, unsure if he was scared or fascinated. Maybe a bit of both. "The wings...my wings...you...took them..." The words came out slowly, disbelievingly. The fear - because, he couldn't deny that there was some - hadn't shown itself yet.

[Seth Turner]

The pressure of knives grating against skin, flesh and bone, ripping and tearing through muscle. It seemed endless, the wait to return. The one time Seth was truly longing for a semblance of normalcy. His normal. He grit his teeth, bearing through the pain, fighting it with every last ounce of his strength. The audible tear of cloth sounded through the air. It went unheard by Seth, it didn't matter after all. Nothing mattered except what was happening to him. Never had absorption been this painful. He had always felt the power flood his body, his system and his senses. The influx was enough to drive him to addiction, but never had there been this dizzying pain that brought him to the ground. Never.

He didn't understand it, but he did recognize one thing. Flight did this to him. Flying, wings, it didn't matter. People spoke of a joy, a freedom, as they soared through the air. All it had ever brought Seth was endless pain, torturous in its persistence and longevity. It had nearly killed him once, the first time he had discovered his power. It would seem that perhaps it finally would get him in the end, one of his biggest fears. Not so irrational after all. Seth was sick and tired of being told that flight was a harmless power and that he should be more worried about others, those that could kill him more readily. He'd told them over and over again, how wrong they were. But they never listened. Perhaps, not until it was too late.

Perhaps he shouldn't feel this burning anger that consumed him, fueled by the pain he was dealt. Maybe he should even feel sorry for what he had done to Danny, since he too was reduced to the ground, gasping for breath. After all, it wasn't truly his fault. But it was, at least, it was in Seth's mind. It was all Danny's fault. The white cleared from his eyes, allowing him to see what was happening. Funny, that his eyes were now adjusted after such a blinding light. He could make out Danny, on the ground, facing him with astonishment, gawking at him. Yet, not at him, off to the side.

Seth froze, unwilling to look but driven by the undeniable urgency to know. He turned his head, white caught in the peripherals of his vision. He jerked his head around fully, horror stricken with what he saw. How can one so honestly hate themselves in one particular moment? True, Seth always felt self-loathing to a certain degree, but nothing so intense as this. Fear, shock and revulsion battled inside of him, vying for action.

Blood sparatically covered parts of the sleek wings, spotting them. Tainting them with his blood. The power burned within him, coursing through the wings, he felt it acutely. There was no feeling so strange as to experience movement in your body, a part of your body that shouldn't exist. Simply, shouldn't be. The wings...my wings...you...took them…" The self-hatred turned outward. "I… am not a thief." His voice was like gravel, gritty and rough, sliding from his throat painfully. He rose, an odd sight. His shirt was ripped to shreds and what was left was dark crimson with his blood. Hands coated with red, shaking with mixed emotion, dark eyes flashing with rage, and wings spread full out behind him, powerful. The anger faded, replaced by a desperation. "Take… take them… back." The smeared limbs curled around him, as if seeking to comfort him. He jerked back, lashing out, not fully aware he was the one doing it, contracting the muscles, bringing them closer.

[Danny Larkin]

Danny tried to keep his breathing slow to keep his stomach settled as he stared at the blood-spattered wings. People had always told him his wings were beautiful, especially girls, and he knew there was at least some truth in their words. Even he could see that. But they'd always been there...always looked like that...and the effect had sort of been lost on him. But looking at the boy's new wings - even splattered in blood - he understood. The only thing that really tainted the appreciation was that they weren't the other boy's. Not really. And judging from the way he was staring at the wings - the way someone might look at a particularly particularly venomous snak-no...more like looking at the man who had just destroyed his life - he knew it too.

The wings moved pulling Danny's eyes along with them, and so he wasn't looking at the other boy when he grated out that he wasn't a thief. Guilt flooded through Danny and he met the eyes that had turned to burning anger. "Wait, now, I didn't - that's not-" not important, he realized, suddenly taking in how the now-winged boy looked. It was like seeing some sort of avenging angel covered in the blood of his latest conquest. He had risen to his feet, and the wings were pushed to their full extent. There was so much blood. The remains of the guy's T-shirt - what little was left - were a gory match to the hands that quivered at his sides. Danny wasn't sure the boy had stopped shaking since the lights had come on, and that bothered him more than anything. He wasn't used to people being so honestly, so obviously frightened of him.

The anger and spirit bled abruptly from the boy to be replaced by a desperation that startled Danny. Take...take them...back. He wasn't even sure that was possible. ...But then, he didn't know. Logan was the only Absorber he knew, and he had made it sound like it all worked completely different for him. He only used the powers he took when he wanted...this guy didn't seem to have any control over whether the power was being used or not. Danny thought, if anyone could help, it was the shirtless wonder...and he was too far away to be any use. The wings began to curl in on the boy in a move that Danny had once used all the time, one that cut off the world in a little cocoon of safety. It had to be bad - this guy didn't seem like the type to get scared easily. "I...can't...take them back." His wings shifted as though to remind them they were still there, that they hadn't actually been taken, and so couldn't be returned.

The movement reminded Danny of the boy's reaction last time they had shifted, of how badly they had scared him. If the wings on Danny had scared him that much, Danny couldn't even begin to imagine how badly having his own would freak him out. And Danny had just shot down any possible hope. The movement of the boy's own wings has made him flinch back, the wings curling even closer - which was not the intended goal, judging by the reaction to the increasingly closer proximity of the feathered appendages. He was going to hurt himself, Danny was sure of it, and he scrambled to his feet in a panic, babbling as he tried to fix his mistake. "I can't take them back, but I can help you control them. I'll show you how to use them, or how to...to not use them, whatever you want. But you've got to relax, now, you're going to hurt yourself!"

[Seth Turner]

Stupid apologies. The world was full of them. Half-hearted and meaningless, and Seth was just done with them. Every time he absorbed a power he was related to that of a criminal. Just go ahead and lock me up. For being who I am. His thoughts were bitter, and Seth wasn't willing to look for a silver lining. There was no happy ending, this was no fairy tale. His life had never been something to put on the movie screens, unless it was for a movie labeled as a tragedy. An angry smile twisted his lips into a grotesque image, adding only to the effect of the bloody smudges on his face. Everything people said was a lie. No one could be trusted, not friends, not family. They were all liars and thieves, even if all they had stolen was a heart. Seth grimaced, wrapping his arms around himself, sickened by the warm, stickiness of the blood that now coated his skin. Every inch of it, it seemed.

He shoved at the feathered abominations, but they came back with a vengeance. Crowding him, suffocating him in a cocoon that he couldn't escape. A strangled yell of frustration and fear ripped from his throat, hoarse from the screaming that had occurred during the initial transformation. He gripped his throat with a bloody hand, leaving a print in its place. He withdrew it, struggling and thrashing anew within the prison that he had built for himself, even if it was accidental. The last feather shifted into place and the strand of sunlight that had once penetrated the darkness was gone. He felt like he had been swallowed whole. In the belly of the beast, a hysterical laugh came from his mouth, so alien and strange that Seth didn't even recognize it as his.

Hope had never been an option and he'd always thought that he knew that. Until the words came from outside, I can't take them back." A sob tore loose from his throat and for a moment, he stopped to wonder at the sensation. He raised a limp hand to his face, feeling the dampness on his cheeks. He pulled back, startled that his hand came back with clear water. Tears. Crying, an all new low for Seth. He curled his hands into fists, beating at the wings around him. Stupid! Pain shocked him to stillness. He'd forgotten they were attached to him, feeling and all. He curled into a ball, wrapping his arms around his legs, shaking again, fear winning out against all other emotion. "You have to." His voice was a whisper, and in the darkness, cut off from the world, he wondered if he was going insane. Was anyone even out there?

Danny spoke again and Seth sighed. Relieved that someone was there. Relieved that maybe, just maybe, he could help? No! Danny was the problem, not the solution. He couldn't help Seth. No one could. He tried to relax, going against what he had just thought. Believing maybe, this person could actually control these things that were now attached to his body. His breathing quickened again and the wings tightened, hugging his body closely, squeezing out the remaining air. Seth gagged, eyes rolling and going pale. Air… He needed air.

"You're going to hurt yourself!" No… Seth's eyes flashing and anger shot through his body, red hot and searing. He stood and threw his arms out, the shoulder muscles relaxing as he was in motion. "No, I'm going to hurt you!" Power coated his eyes with a surreal faded white, glazing them, letting them catch the light that burst into his vision, spots dancing as he tried to adjusted. His wings unfurled completely, banging against solid objects. A chair, a person, it was all the same to him. He wasn't in control anymore. The anger took control, the addiction feeding his wrath. He whirled around, searching for Danny with a scowl, mouth parted to almost look as if he was baring his teeth.

[Danny Larkin]

There was something so utterly pitiful about the the way the boy hugged his bloody chest that made Danny feel guilty - even though he hadn't done anything. But worse than that, worse even than the wings trying to copy the motion, was the way the boy fought against them. Danny wasn't sure if it was a pride thing and he was refusing to accept comfort (even from himself), or if it was because he was scared of them. Whatever the case, the slowly encroaching limbs were shoved ineffectively, the owner's own panic pulling them tighter instead. Danny tried to calm him again, but his words were cut off by the hoarse yell - panic and fear. The bloody hand print on the neck made a tiny part of Danny's brain wonder, if they got caught, was he going to get blamed for that?

The feathery cocoon finally closed, cutting the boy off from the room. Danny put out one hand to touch the wings, to try and show that they weren't that dangerous. To show he was still there. It was the second one Danny thought was what was more needed (though he was fairly certain neither he nor the other guy would ever actually admit it). Danny remembered when his wings had first sprouted; he hadn't know what to think of them. He'd been scared, had wanted to panic; to run from the wings, cut them off, anything to get away. Until his mom had walked in and hadn't been scared. Then it had all been alright, and he'd been able to breathe.

His hand was arrested inches from the wings by the awful sound that came from inside. It was a second before he realized it was laughter. For a second he gaped at the man he couldn't see, and then he shook himself. His confession prompted another sound that had Danny taking a step back, his face furrowed in worry. It had been a sob. What do I do now? He could see the wings shifting as the boy moved around, though Danny didn't know what he was doing. And then the wings jerked, fists hitting their insides, and then stillness. Once more Danny reached to touch the wings, trying for a lightness in his voice as he spoke. "If I have to tell you to calm down again, I'm going punch your head."

The whole cocoon sank down and Danny let his hand drop, giving up on that particular technique. He squatted down in time to hear the whispered plea, and the soft rustle of shaking feathers. Worried, he shook his head slightly because he knew it wouldn't been seen. At least Danny's words seemed to be finally making an impression; it looked like the wings were relaxing. And then something changed and they closed back in, eliciting gagging noises from inside...

He was on his own feet when the boy jerked to his, his wings flaring as they relaxed. Danny felt a mixture of relief and interest - anger appeared to be the key here. The good feelings were short-lived, though. Light caught on milky eyes. "No, I'm going to hurt you!". Wings snapped the rest of the way open, catching Danny in the chest with all the pent up power of flight muscles and launching him into the air. He caught a chair as he passed, and then hit the wall hard enough to knock the wind out of him.

For a second, he just lay there blinking at the stars that danced in his vision. And then his body reacted to the danger and he was on his feet, swaying slightly as he blinked around for his winged attacker. His head hurt, and he pressed a hand absently to the spot near his eyebrow, glancing down in surprise when it came away wet. Blood. From the chair, he supposed, pushing the thought away as it formed and staring in shock. The boy didn't look...right. He turned from an avenging angel to a wild animal, his lips pulled back to bare his teeth; he seemed on the verge of another attack. Danny didn't want to fight - he didn't like the idea of having hurt someone - and he put his hands out in front of him. Though he braced his feet against the floor, just in case. Anger seemed to be the key with this guy. "What is your problem? I haven't done anything to you! Look at this!" He offered the blood-stained hand with a scowl, "I'm bleeding. At least let me do something to you first next time." Danny knew there was a sane person inside, he had joked with him not five minutes ago. Come back, sanity...c'mon...

[Seth Turner]

The odd feeling he couldn't place shouldn't exist. He tried to push it aside but it persistently came back, tearing at him. Guilt. Seth scowled. There was no reason for him to feel guilty. It wasn't his fault, what was happening. It was Danny's fault, everything was Danny's fault. Even with the steady flow of denial, the guilt lingered and Seth couldn't keep pushing it off. He felt it keenly, constantly in the forefront of his mind. There was no use trying to shut it out. The anger still coursed unstoppable, through his veins. He channelled it, willing it to fight away the shame that was now plaguing him. Chest heaving, his crazed eyes finally locked on Danny, who was bracing himself, probably in case of attack. After all, Seth had just made it perfectly clear that his intent was to hurt him. Brown eyes narrowed, he glared at Danny, wings fully extended and for the most part, forgotten. He didn't want to turn his head, for fear of catching them in his sight, so he remained locked on Danny. There was only one hope of remaining sane through all this. Sane, he mocked himself, by no definition would anyone ever use that word to describe him. Seth shrugged it off, not caring.

Anger. Danny was finally showing his anger. It gave Seth pause, to see the relatively relaxed guy go from trying to calm him down to yelling at him. Confusion reflected in his face, it twisted up and the rage died away with it. In this state, feeding off the power, he was driven by instinct and rational thought was almost completely lost on him. Rage. That was something he could understand and finally it dawned on him, that this guy might just be willing to fight back. For some reason, that deterred him, made him stop in his place, cocking his head and watching Danny, waiting for him to strike, for him to make the next move.

He was bleeding. His thoughts were sluggish, unnatural in his adrenaline clouded mind. "I'm…bleeding too?" His words came out almost as a question, unsure of what this person was expecting him to say. I'm sorry? That was a laughable thought. Seth never apologized to anyone, not truly and sincerely, and he wasn't going to start now. His words were simple, but the underlying accusation was obvious. Sure, he had caused a little blood to be spilt, but the wings that he had absorbed from Danny, had caused far more blood than a little scratch.

It drained away from him, the wings falling limply along the ground, fluttering in vain to remain upright. They hung heavy and stiff, awkward limbs with no use and no mobility. He groaned, the power slipping away from him and his anger vanishing along with it. His anger had served to cover up the pain and it came back full force, slamming into his body, forcing him to double over, face contorted as he writhed. The giant appendages folded up as if they were controlled by a puppet-master, shrinking far more slowly than they had grown. Bones cracked and snapped as they struggled to compress themselves back into nothingness. A cry fell from his parted mouth, his fists pounded against the ground, collapsing onto it with little effort to remain standing. His own power burned within him, expelling the remnants of the wings from his body. It seared, burning away the excess power, whatever wasn't his, subject to the inferno.

Until, they were gone. He gasped for air, eyes wide and rimmed with red and white. His muscles tense, he felt the release of the final tendon. Rolling his shoulders tentatively, he knew he was free from their ghoulish grip. Boiling hot pain still ran the length of his back and slowly, he curled his arm around his body, feeling the two new scars that ridged up and away from his otherwise smooth skin. They were hot to the touch. A physical absorption. His power hadn't been strong enough to dispel the reminder of what had happened.

Pushing his body up, he staggered to his feet, gaze on Danny, afraid to get too close, afraid of going through it all again. Two words rose to his lips, tempting him to say them, I'm sorry. Harshly, his mind shoved them away, unwilling to bare such a pitiful emotion. He wasn't sorry, he would never be sorry! Having flung Danny out of his path, he was clear to the exit of the cinema. Tearing his gaze from the other teenage, he ran for the exit. He wanted to be alone. The thought of his dorm room driving his weakened body forward.

[Danny Larkin]

He was staring at Danny. Not moving, just...watching him. And his wings hadn't moved either, but were still extended to either side. Something about Danny's own anger appeared to have gotten to him, and his words came out slowly. "I'm...bleeding too?" For a second, Danny gaped uncomprehendingly. Okay, so the bump on Danny's head didn't really seem like much next to the blood that covered the other's entire body, but still... That was his answer? No apology at all? Seriously? He tried to voice the indignant thought, but got only a unintelligible series of noises.

The wings dropped suddenly, flopping in sickeningly futile attempt to keep off the ground. Danny stumbled back in horror as the wings began to wilt, doubling the boy over in their death and drawing out a pained cry. Should he do something? He felt like he ought to run for the nurse, or the principal...someone. Only he couldn't look away...

It was over abruptly. The wings were gone, the boy gasping and, as far as Danny could see, unharmed on the floor. It wasn't until he moved, wrapping an arm around to finger his back that Danny saw the puckered edge of the scar now on the shoulder. Danny wasn't stupid; he could tell the scar was from the wings, it looked too new to be from anything else. Guilt drew blood to his cheeks even as he fought down the urge to be sick. Whether it was the whole ordeal finally trying to pound its way out of his stomach, or seeing the rejection of the wings, Danny couldn't say for sure.

The boy staggered to his feet and Danny braced himself unconsciously, ready for another fight. What he got was a look he couldn't figure out. For a moment, he thought it might be regret, and he blinked in surprise. In that brief second, though, the expression had changed and the boy was gone, running for the door. Confused, Danny watched him go without making any attempt to stop him. The door banged shut, snapping Danny back to reality and prompting him into movement. Pressing his hand to the bleeding cut on his head, he shuffled slowly toward the door, unsure of his destination.