The third to last thought after Daniel snagged his foot on the hidden rope and tumbled over the edge of the mezzanine floor of the barn was that he hoped the landing would be hard enough to kill him immediately. Years ago, he’d seen a school-friend suffer the effects of long agonising months of paralysis after an injury and if it was all right with the universe, he'd much rather skip all that and head straight to the pearly gates.

The second to last thought was fleeting confusion as to how Marcus had somehow managed to materialise between him and the ground and was falling with him, his body a physical barrier between him and the no doubt punishing floor below.

The very last thought, barely a flicker in the final moments before the wind was knocked out of him and he lost consciousness was that their descent was slowing...and that it was impossible.

#

"Turn away, Dan." Marcus’ deep voice, cracking with pain, reached him as he struggled back from oblivion.

Daniel could neither turn toward or away from the voice, his every rational thought taken up with dragging air into his lungs, mercifully still working after his fall from the landing two stories above. He looked at the underside of floorboards far overhead and wondered again how he was alive and awake.

"Marcus?"

"Just don't move, Daniel. Don't sit up, don't roll over and for the love of God...don't look in my direction."

Snippets of memories tripped over each other in Daniel's head; Falling, Marcus’ strong arms cradling him from below as they tumbled, hitting the ground, Marcus beneath him, shielding him from harm. Panic rose as a wave in response to the sound of pain and fear in Marcus’ voice, Oh God, how badly is he hurt?

In spite of the desperate pleas, Daniel slowly stretched one arm and then the other. Having reassured himself that they worked normally, he repeated the tests with his legs and then a gentle twist of his spine this way and that. He again marvelled at the lack of damage and his thoughts circled back to concern for Marcus, who must surely have fared worse in their joined fall.

"Marc, hang on, I'm going to try and get to you."

The alarm in Marcus’ voice rose to new heights, "NO! Stay there."

Daniel could only assume Marcus had attempted to move from the clipped gasp of pain that followed the outburst.

Ignoring his pleas, Daniel rolled over. First bracing himself on his hands, he lifted himself onto all fours and then sat up, pausing as his head swam at the motion. Mild concussion probably. Drawing a deep breath he turned toward his business partner, fearing the worst.

Marcus sat leaning against one of the wide beams that supported the high, arching roof. There was a smear of blood on his forehead, matting his dishevelled brown curls together. More worryingly was the odd angle he was holding his left arm. Broken or dislocated? Most alarming of all was the panicked look in his eyes as they avoided Daniel's. There was something of the trapped animal in their pale depths, as if Marcus given the chance would bolt from the barn and into the night, if only his legs would support him. He held up his one functional hand in warning and tried to angle his bad shoulder away from Daniel, further into the shadows.

"Please Dan, no."

"You're hurt."

"I know." Marcus answered simply, "Nevertheless, you should leave."

"I don't understand." Daniel edged toward him as if approaching a skittish colt.

"I know you don't, and it needs to stay that way." Marcus hissed in pain as he moved his injured shoulder again, "Please, I'm begging you."

That decides it, you never beg. Daniel pushed himself to his feet and pulled his shoulders back, taking two determined steps toward his friend.

"It'll be fine Marc, trust me. It will all....be...." Daniel's voice trailed off as he caught sight of what Marcus had been trying desperately to hide. Visible behind his dislocated shoulder, hanging limply behind the fabric of his sleeve was something impossible. Something that couldn't possibly be what it appeared to be. And yet there was no doubt in Daniel's mind that what he was seeing wasn't a hallucination.

Emerging from Marcus’ back, covered in iridescent green and indigo feathers and hanging at an awkward, unnatural angle, was the edge of an enormous wing.