#delpad

In the hours where the sun dipped into the lakes and the stars carved a blanket in the sky, Iris took her leave from the world below the clouds. Maintaining the rainbows and exchanging worldly messages with Mercury had left her yearning for home. She left a trail of iridescent light in her wake, searching for Ithaquack.

Not far from the island of the gods’, the god of the West wind floated in the breeze. Unlike Iris, Zephyrus traveled the world in the light of the sun and the moon. The wind never sleeps, but it takes his time in Ithaquack as the sun begins to set– knowing well who will be arriving soon. In lazy content, he drifted until his eyes found hers in the twilight.

Like an eclipse meeting, they collided. The goddess of the rainbow smiled up at her husband as he guided them along his gentle winds. They spun in the clouds, wings catching wind and slicing through the clouds.

“Iris!” He exclaimed, lowering his head to kiss her neck.

She laughed at him, but was no stranger to his affection. She tilted her head to allow his kisses, like butterflies tickling her feathers. "Missed me?" 

He pulls away, but still holds on to her. She watched as the rainbows in her eyes reflected in his. 

"How could I not?" 

Light as feathers, Iris and Zephyrus took part in dancing in the clouds, with only the stars and moon as their witnesses. Upon each turn, Iris would catch the knowing gaze of Selene. Her dear friend smiled fondly, encouraging her with a thumbs up. She smiled back before allowing Zephyrus to toss her into the air.

She welcomed the free fall, enjoying the feeling of wind rushing underneath her feathers. Knowing he’d caught her as always. He smiles, softer, as his hand traces the outline of her cheek. He stares at her, expression changing to mournful. 

“You’ll always return to us, right?”

It surprised Iris, her smile fading. But, he holds her to meet his eye level, losing his cheer. The winds swell, and she feels the cold air pinching the skin under her feathers. She shivers, gripping his arms tightly, yet the cold numbs her. She can hardly tell where his warmth begins.

“Please come back, Della.”

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡✈︎⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

When Della woke up, the air seemed colder. She felt like she was drifting in the clouds once again. Only, the atmosphere was barren when she opened her eyes, and, below her, the world was a dull grey. The only reminiscence of the dream was the starry sky, but even that was devoid of rainbows… The only colors that luminate is red from her ship, and the distant dot of blue and green. 

The Earth. Home.

She gasps for air, looking up to find the Spear of Selene looming over her head. She narrowed her eyes at the sight, before gasping again. Her throat tightens, disorienting her further. Her eyes search through the debris, until she finds her savior: Oxy-Chew. 

There wasn’t any further decision making to be needed: she tore the box open and shoved the first stick of gum into her mouth. She recoils at the taste, and automatically comes up with some choice words to call Gyro when she returns. 

When she returns. 

She doesn’t give herself a chance to think about the dream as the weight of the fallen Spear crushes her leg. She pushes and tugs, while the lingering image of three eggs and a red-headed pilot rests in the back of her mind. 

She huffs, yelling in agony– a little at the pain, mostly at herself. In her anger, she kicks the debris, and a photo falls. The boys, Scrooge, Donald, and her. She stares at it in solemn and wishing to travel back in time. 

However, the kick sent one of the jets falling. It slides down, and Della waits with dread. But, it screeches to a halt, leaving Della widened eyed. 

Oh, Phooey. 

She sighs, looking for something sharp. Luckily, a crash landing always has that in spares. She stretches for the closest piece of knife-like metal she can find. She shivers at the metal hanging dangerously close over her leg. 

She trembles, gritting her teeth. “Just think of anything else, Della.” 

A crash landing. A reckless pilot. His sweet smile when you told him the news. His cheer before he lets go of the yoke. 

Despite the fond memory, she still screams in pain– like a searing burn. 

She doesn’t know much about proper amputation care. She doubts the pain would be less intense if she did. She pushes through: packing the wound the best she can, after dragging herself away from a crushing end. 

She pants and hisses through her teeth, tears stinging her eyes.

“You’ll always return to us, right?” 

There’s really no good time for these kinds of memories or dreams, not when you’re trying to fix up a make-shift leg and sealing off your bleeding leg. But, the brain doesn’t care about the when– especially when you’re already hurting.

The dream shifts, it’s not the same, as Della tries to recall it. No longer is she a goddess. No longer is her lover a god. He’s Launchpad McQuack, fellow pilot and the father of her children. He isn’t as eloquent, but he’s still charming. He still missed her.

They’re still carefree. They’re still deeply in love. They still share the skies on a pair of wings. 

The tears fall, heavy drops of saltwater. They fall slowly in the atmosphere– some hover.

Finally, the bleeding stops, and Della collapses onto her back, trying and failing to keep it together. She gives herself the opportunity to mourn in her anger– briefly.

“Please come back, Della.”

When she remembers Launchpad’s final words to her, she sobers up. She looks at the Spear, new determination settling in her eyes. She remembers what she told him, and the stars fill her eyes as she glances to the Earth.