Hey, how about an AU where, in Grace's world, people have wings, but in Simon's world, they don't?
That way, the nickname "Angel" would fit even better
And I kind of wanted to see Simon helping Grace fly again (there was ABSOLUTELY NO room for him to EVEN spread his wings on the Hail Mary)
What I think would be really fun is if Simon’s universe was the one with wings.
I imagine in such a harsh universe, well taken care of wings are a sign of hard work and dedication—and in Eden particularly, they’re a sign of purity, of holiness. The people with the biggest, most beautiful and well cared for wings are lauded, put in higher up positions, afforded more opportunities than others.
That’s part of how Simon managed to get so far at such a young age. He’s incredibly smart and hardworking, sure, but in Eden, there’s really only one thing that catches the Father’s attention.
Simon’s wings are big—so big he rarely ever has the chance to fully stretch them out. They’re black like oil and just as shiny, and under certain lights, there’s an iridescent quality to the feathers—purples and blues and greens, all layered beautifully under inky black. They’re gorgeous wings, the envy of anyone who lays eyes on them.
It becomes both a blessing and a curse.
If we still want to keep the ‘Angel’ nickname, I think it would be interesting if in Eden, a person’s wings are considered the most holy part of them. When they die or are killed, their wings are ceremonially harvested from their body and used—along with their blood—to nourish the Last Tree.
When Simon first meets Grace, he’s stunned. He’s seen damaged wings, broken wings, wings with great swathes of missing feathers.
But the only time he’s ever seen someone without wings is when they’re already dead.
So when he sees Grace—living and breathing and smiling and wingless—he really does look like someone who’s died and miraculously come back to life.
It terrifies him. He’s delirious with pain and blood loss and infection, and he’s sure he must be dead. That Grace is just another poor soul who was killed for the sake of someone else’s plans, that he died and had his wings taken and was made an angel in the afterlife. And Simon is positive that his wings will be next, that as soon as someone finds his bloated body in the mortal world, the precious limbs will be torn from him, and Simon will lose them forever.
So we get the reactive/defensive behavior, the posturing and the lashing out and the guilt and apologies after, the long explanations from both sides, the slow build of friendship and then something more.
Since he lost an arm, Simon can no longer groom his wings by himself, so Grace learns how to do it for him. The first few times, there’s this sense of hesitant trust—fragile, like an eggshell—but after they each get used to touching/being touched again, it becomes this deeply intimate act of care.
Another thing: Simon has never flown before. Back in his universe, there was hardly ever any room to stretch his wings fully, much less actually lift off.
Grace carefully brings it up one day, and after some thought, Simon agrees to try.
Of course, they have to spend months conditioning the muscles in his shoulders and wings, slowly building up the strength it will take to get his body off the ground—especially since gravity on Erid is stronger than anything he’s experienced before. It’s tedious, exhausting, painful work, but Grace is there every step of the way, keeping track of his progress and gently massaging his sore muscles after his workouts.
Simon will never admit it out loud, but the massages are most of what keeps him going. He might have given up a hundred times by now, if not for the promise of Grace’s careful fingers kneading his shoulders and soothing his wings. Over the past few months, he’s become addicted to the feeling. He both anticipates and dreads the day he takes flight—he’ll finally be able to do what his body was always meant for, but he’ll no longer have a reason to ask Grace to touch him like this.
The day it happens is the best day of Simon’s life.
He takes to the sky like he was born to do it, because he was. He was made to be up here, safe, away from anything and everything that’s ever hurt him. He knows with certainty that he could happily spend the rest of his life up here, coasting on air currents and just breathing.
The sound of excited shouting breaks him from his thoughts, and he looks down to find Grace jumping up and down on the beach, clapping and pumping his fists in victory.
And suddenly, what Simon wants more than anything is to be back down there on the ground.
He lands a little clumsily and Grace runs to meet him, and Simon collapses into his arms and starts laughing, and then Grace is laughing, and then neither of them are laughing because they’re too busy kissing.
titsay
turnnoffyourmind
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2087
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