Jay

"Ow!"

Scott paused on his way to his room, having just passed Warren's. It was Warren's voice that had exclaimed in pain. Scott backtracked, intending to check in with Warren. As far as he knew Warren hadn't been hurt by training recently, so there was no reason Scott could think of for Warren to be pained.

"Owww!"

"Warren?" Scott asked, leaning into Warren's room to find Warren shirtless and sitting on the floor, a handful of feathers scattered on the floor around him. "What are you doing?"

"Plucking my feathers."

Scott entered the room without permission and joined Warren on the floor. "Why are you pulling out your feathers?"

"So molting goes smoother."

"Molting?"

"When I lose my feathers in autumn or spring to prepare for the weather. It's going to start getting cold soon and… Well I'd rather things go smoother."

"Oh, I see. So you pull out feathers in preparation for losing your feathers?"

"Yeah. It's… I don't know, I just find this works better."

"Alright. Do you need help? It didn't sound like it was going well." Scott reached out to touch Warren's feathers but stopped himself. He knew Warren's wings were a sensitive topic and he shouldn't touch without permission. He figured he wouldn't like people touching his glasses without permission either.

"That… that would be great, please Scott."

Scott shifted so he was facing Warren's back. "How do I know which ones to pluck?"

Warren gestured to the feathers scattered on the floor. "Anything bent or broken."

Scott nodded before realizing Warren couldn't see it. "Alright."

Warren stretched his wings out as far as they would go and Scott got to work. He started at the tip of Warren's right wing, carefully pulling out any bent or broken feathers. Scott carefully smoothed the perfect feathers back into place. The feathers grew smaller and more dense closer to Warren's back, where feathers met skin. As Scott's fingers carded through feathers near Warren's skin he noticed they were caked with grime and were more coarse than Scott figured they should be. He wasn't an avian expert, but he was pretty sure feathers closer to the body should resemble down feathers. Scott figured the angle would be awkward and hard for Warren to reach on his own.

"Warren?" Scott withdrew his hands from Warren's wing.

"Mmmn?" Warren had been enjoying having someone else help him groom his wings back to a healthy state and he was a little disappointed Scott had removed his hands.

"Do you struggle to reach your wing joints?"

Warren flushed a deep pink. "Um… It's a little tricky."

"I see." Scott contemplated. "It looks like you've got some build up here, like sweat and blood, staining your feathers."

"Oh." Warren's flush deepened. "I try to clean things but…"

"I get it. I struggle to clean around my nose sometimes, and I get acne breakouts along the bridge. Hang on, I'm going to go get some stuff to clean this up." Scott stood and left Warren's room.

Warren sighed. He didn't like that Scott saw how gross his wings were, the parts of himself that he couldn't keep tidy and perfect. He hated the idea of Scott seeing him as someone who couldn't look after himself. Warren pulled the feathers Scott had plucked into a pile. He wasn't sure if he could allow Scott to clean out his joints. The humiliation of having his team leader scrub him down had Warren's chest flushing. He should just hide in the bathroom and not let Scott see him anymore.

"Hey Warren, have you seen—" Bobby hesitated when he saw Warren sitting on the floor. "Uh, what're you doing?"

"Wing grooming." Warren stretched, his spine popping.

"Ohhhh." Bobby entered the room without asking. "And, uh, how is that going?"

"Scott thinks my wings are gross." Warren's voice cracked and tears pooled in his eyes.

Bobby bit his lip, debating on the best course of action. He settled for dropping next to Warren and nudging him with his shoulder. "Did he say that?"

"Not out loud." Warren hesitated to lean into Bobby, but he wanted comfort.

"So what did Scott actually say?"

"He asked if I struggled to clean my wing joints and then he left."

Bobby pursed his lips. That didn't sound like Scott. "What did he say when he left?"

"He was going to get things to clean my wings," Warren mumbled.

"So it sounds like Scott is trying to help you." Bobby leaned further into Warren. "And it sounds like he's not actually upset with you."

"Who's upset?" Scott asked, re-entering the room.

"Warren thinks you are," Bobby answered.

Warren smacked Bobby's shoulder. "Well I didn't… I mean… My wings are kind of…"

"Natural?" Scott prompted.

"It's not natural to have gunk built up in my feathers."

Scott joined the pair on the floor. "You mean sweating isn't natural? You think blood isn't natural?"

"Piss off Scott," Warren muttered. He brushed his hand under his eyes.

Bobby wrapped a hand around Warren's wrist. "Hey, neither of us are grossed out or upset, okay? You guys were normal about my ice problem, let us be normal about your wing problem."

"I should be able to handle myself," Warren sighed, pulling away from Bobby and wrapping his arms around his waist.

Scott dipped his rag into the bowl of warm water and started dabbing at Warren's feathers. "We're a team Warren. The five of us are meant to take care of each other. We help Bobby with his ice, we help Jean with her headaches, we help Hank when he's struggling. Let me help you clean your wings to keep them healthy."

"Let us help," Bobby added. "We care about you Warren. There's no shame in needing a little help cleaning up."

Warren gave a little shudder. "I'm a Worthington—"

"Hey," Scott cut Warren off. "That doesn't matter. Not to us. You being our friend matters more than your family name. And it doesn't matter who your family is, you still deserve help and care."

Bobby nodded in agreement. "Just let us handle the things you can't quite do."

"I guess," Warren mumbled.

Scott continued wiping grime off Warren's feathers, while Bobby absently stroked Warren's already preened feathers. Warren slowly relaxed, settling into having his friends take care of him. The concept felt foreign to him. Warren had been self-sufficient as long as he could remember. Not nearly as qualified as Scott, but he knew how to take care of himself. Scott's hands were gentle as he cleaned Warren's feathers.

"Hey Scott?" Bobby asked.

"Hmm?" Scott gave a slight nod.

"Does the skin around Warren's wings look red and irritated to you?"

"Bobby, I can't tell when things are red."

Bobby huffed out a sigh. "Okay, well his skin looks dry. Did you bring lotion?"

Scott shook his head, "I didn't think to."

"There's some in my bathroom," Warren gestured to the door across from them.

Bobby hopped to his feet and crossed to the bathroom. Warren watched Bobby enter the bathroom while Scott continued wiping at Warren's skin and feathers.

"God, are my wings that gross?" Warren asked, feeling like Scott had been cleaning them for a long time.

"Not exactly. I'm just trying to be careful and not pull out any feathers unnecessarily. We only want to remove damaged ones, right?"

"Right." Warren's chest warmed at Scott's care and attentiveness.

Scott pressed a light kiss to Warren's shoulder blade. The action was an impulse Scott often longed to engage in and the guilt of it hit him as soon as he indulged. He couldn't allow himself that small act. He owed Bobby better, owed Bobby loyalty even if they couldn't be open about being boyfriends.

Bobby re-entered the room and plopped down right next to Scott, nudging his shoulder into Scott's. Scott gave Bobby a small smile before finishing with wiping down Warren's wing joints. When Scott finished, Bobby started dabbing lotion on the sensitive skin. Scott figured it would be best to let Bobby handle the lotion, so he started plucking feathers from Warren's left wing, being just as thorough as he was with the right wing.

Warren fidgeted with his hands while his friends worked. It felt better than expected, to have someone applying lotion to his back where he couldn't reach. He had to admit that Scott was doing a much better job at preening his wings than he himself did. When Scott pulled out feathers it didn't hurt. Warren barely noticed Scott's hands tangled in his feathers. He certainly felt Bobby's cold hands against his skin though. He understood that Bobby was always cold but he wasn't thrilled about feeling it.

When both Scott and Bobby were finished tending to Warren, Scott asked, "feel better?"

"Yeah, actually I do. Thanks you guys." Warren twisted to smile at his friends.

Bobby gave Warren a side hug. "No worries birdie."

Scott stretched, the tension in his shoulders easing up. He had a bad habit of getting to focused on whatever he was doing and causing some seizing in his muscles. "Do you need anything else War?"

Warren shook his head, "no, I think I'm okay. Thanks for helping with my feathers guys, I appreciate it."

Scott gently nudged Warren. "Always birdbrain."

Warren grinned. Scott almost never called him birdbrain, Bobby's favorite nickname for him. He liked it when Scott acted like a teenager, teasing and silly.

Bobby hopped off the floor and offered his hand to Warren, who accepted. Bobby pulled Warren off the floor and went to help Scott up too, but Scott got to his feet on his own. Bobby bit back his slight disappointment. He never missed an opportunity to brush his fingers against Scott's skin, always wanted to give Scott the gentle touch he deserved. He knew Warren felt similarly. There wasn't competition between them, but Bobby had noticed a tension between himself and Warren that only existed when Scott was around. It was a little unfortunate because Bobby normally loved being around Warren, and Scott was the person he was closest to.

"I was thinking we should eat," Scott said, somewhat distractedly. He was cleaning up the cloth and bucket from the floor. "We can sweep the feathers later. I think it's suppertime anyway."

Bobby grinned and looped an arm through Warren's. "Sounds like a plan Scottie. Should Warren put on a shirt now, or can that also wait until later?"

Warren elbowed Bobby in the ribs. "I can decide that for myself actually."

"Aw, but Scott's leader."

Scott rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Bobby, you guys are still capable of making your own choices."

Bobby looped his free arm through Scott's. "Whatever you say fearless leader."

Scott gave an exaggerated sigh. "Warren do you want a shirt?"

"No, I think I'm good." Warren smiled a little at his friends' antics. He really had nowhere he'd rather be than beside them. He felt comfortable and safe with them. His chest felt warm and he was content as Bobby dragged him and Scott out of his room. He cast his gaze over to Scott, who had a soft smile playing about the corners of his mouth. Warren couldn't help his own smile at seeing his high-strung team leader looking so relaxed. Maybe between him and Bobby they could get Scott to act his age and chill out. Helping him with his wings had been a good start Warren supposed. Scott always seemed happier when taking care of someone else.