Chapter 12: The Allure of Wings

Shiro pushed Lance against the head of his bed making sure he was comfortable before continuing  to stare at him. “You okay?” He asked worriedly as he stared at Lance, who was sitting awkwardly  on top of the covers staring intently at the wall across from them.

 

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine” Lance answered a little too loudly and quickly. Shiro could see how pale he was.

 

"I need you breathe in and out normally till you are comfortable enough to fall a sleep, but not fully." Shiro said gently with concern. The look on Lance face was not what Shiro had wanted him to have when they started talking about this. He didn't want to scare him and yet he needed to be able to help, if only for a short time.

 

Lance did what he was told and after a moment he relaxed back into the bed laying down on his side facing away from Shiro. It didn't take long for Shiro to start feeling sleepy realizing when watching the black haired boy how odd his aura was . There was something off about it. Not a bad thing exactly just different. 

 

He watched as Lance's breathing evened out and he fell asleep. Shiro sighed. He wasn't going to get anywhere trying to get any answers out of him while he was like this. 

 

Shiro traced his hands around Lance's silhouette when something in his presence shocked his fingers stopping his movements. ‘This isn't right’ Shiro thought as he looked around the room for anything that may have changed or might have been off about Lance. 

 

His eyes fell on Lance's neck as he saw the marks appear on his forehead and quickly fade away. ‘No, this can't be happening!’ Was the last thought in his mind before he felt himself falling over unconscious.

 

* * *

 

 When Shiro woke up everything was dark and there were voices talking in whispers. He couldn't make out their words but it was obvious someone was crying. The sounds of wings fluttering and feathers falling from the sky into the palm of his hand made him ponder about who Lance is. 

 

A man in black came out of nowhere smashing against Shiro angrily knocking his head backwards causing him to fall onto the cold floor in pain. When he tried to get back up, an unfamiliar voice told him not to move. The voice sounded familiar though he couldn't place it.

 

"How the hell did you get here?" Otis growled.

 

"Why are you here in Lance's mind?" Shiro asked. 

 

A spear appeared into the seraph's hand charging at Shiro. His first instinct was to run but his body wouldn't listen. His muscles refused to respond as he slowly raised his arms to protect himself from the incoming spear. A loud thud shook through the room as Otis' spear shattered upon contact with Shiro. He stood up and glared at him with burning eyes.

 

"Who are you!?" Shiro cried fearfully.

 

Otis held out his broken spear pointing it towards Shiro. "Do you know who I am?!” He growled. The sound of wings filled Shiro's ears making him flinch. Looking behind him he saw an angel standing behind him glaring daggers at the seraph who had just threatened Shiro.

 

"What happened in here?" She demanded, her voice echoing in the air. Her voice sounded calm and controlled which Shiro found unnerving.

 

"We should leave before we attract unwanted attention." Another angel suggested walking up behind Shiro. Shiro was confused by their appearance since they didn't seem like angels. In fact, they looked more like humans than angels. Their hair was brown and short and they both wore clothes similar to the others who were already running.

 

"Yes, please excuse us"

 

Shiro woke up gasping , his heart racing and a bead of sweat dripping down his temple. Sitting up quickly he glanced around checking on Lance . He looked to his left and saw that Lance was still soundly asleep. 

 

[Punishment for Shiro entering the mental space is being decided]

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Taking a deep breath Shiro calmed his pounding heart before letting his gaze linger longer than necessary over Lance's sleeping form noticing the sigil that appeared and faded away quickly. Something felt different about Lance though. What it could be he didn't know. 

 

Lance sat up rubbing his eyes and yawning, Shiro looked away as Lance stretched and yawned again his jaw cracking slightly as he leaned back.

 

"Morning," Shiro muttered, his voice low and shaky.

 

Lance turned to look at him his expression shifting to one of concern as he caught sight of Shiro's state.

 

"Morning?" Lance replied puzzled. 

 

"Lance, what are you?" He asked unable to mask his nervousness any longer. Shiro finished quietly afraid of what he would say.

 

A flash of anger crossed Lance's features before it vanished leaving behind something else Shiro could have sworn he knew.

"No..." Lance whispered, his tone unsure of how to proceed. "Well...I am sure, Shiro."

 

[If you proceed, Lance you will lose your voice] 

 

Shiro's head snapped up to look at Lance who now held his gaze looking as if he was debating with himself. His heart raced as he waited for the answer he already knew the answer would be. Lance gave him a small smile.

 

[Punishment has been decided] 

 

Lance fell into Shiro's arms as his bled and blood curled down cheek bones, nose, eyelashes, chin, lips and chest leaving trails of red.

 

Tears ran down his face, his entire body shaking violently as he buried his face into Shiro’s shoulder losing conciousness. 

 

[Shiro, you are here for similar reasons aren't you?] 

 

Shiro's vision faded, a soft ringing sounding in his ears blocking out all other sounds. It seemed like hours had passed but was probably only seconds. 

 

[If you share Lance’s ideals then possibly you are worthy as well] 

 

Shiro's vision faded, a soft ringing sounding in his ears blocking out all other sounds. It seemed like hours had passed but was probably only seconds. He held tight to Lance in his arms listening to every single movement Lance made as he breathed heavily shakily, he could hear his heartbeat rapidly beating against his chest and his warm breath blowing gently against his collarbone. 

 

The ringing stopped as abruptly as it started, the sound of voices and footsteps returning to him like a broken record.

 

“What do you want me to do…?”

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