Archive of Our Own ^beta

Grian beat his wings hard, soaring through the air as fast as he could, Jimmy right behind him. He cackled, then pulled in his wings close to his body and plummeted like a stone. Jimmy squawked in surprise, then dove after him, not letting him get too far ahead.

“You’re gonna have to go faster than that if you want to beat me!” Grian crowed, pulling out of his dive and skyrocketing back up into the air.

“Hey, it’s not fair, you have bigger wings than I do!” Jimmy protested, out of breath. 

“Mhmm, sure.” Grian laughed again, leveling off into a glide, his best friend swooping over to his side. 

“It’s true!” Jimmy flapped his wings once to help him stay level with him. “Canaries have way smaller wingspans than hawks!” 

“Sure, Timmy.” Grian made a face at him. 

Jimmy was about to retort back when the sky shook. It was such an unusual sensation, like waves in an ocean almost, but they were in the air, that wasn’t something that happened. It wasn’t the wind, no wind picked up that quickly or behaved that way. Grian and Jimmy locked eyes, confusion and nervousness evident between the two of them. Grian opened his mouth to say something but something else had caught Jimmy’s eye. There was something in the air, flying towards them. It looked like…a rock? It was hurtling towards them, straight at them, and he cried out.

“Grian, look out!” 

He lunged forward, tackling him in the air and pushing him out of the way as the boulder collided with himself instead. It had been moving so quickly, with so much force, there was no way he could have survived it. The last thing he heard was the sound of his wings snapping, followed by his ribs, then his skull. 

The pain was short, almost surprisingly so. He had died too quickly to register most of it. However, despite the fact that he was most definitely dead, he wasn’t…dead? He could feel that his heart had stopped, and that he wasn’t breathing, and he couldn’t move or speak or use any of his senses. But he was still in his body. He was still thinking. He was dead, but he wasn’t gone.

Now that he was concentrating, he realized that he could still use his senses, but that they were dull. He could hear Grian screaming his name, could feel the wind whistling through his broken feathers, could smell the coppery scent of his own blood. He couldn’t feel the pain of his death, a fact which he was grateful for, but he was also beginning to feel distinctly worried about actually being dead. Was death really like this? It didn’t seem like a very fun afterlife, if he was being totally honest.

“Jimmy, please, please, wake up, Jimmy, Jim, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please wake up–” Grian was shaking his body, begging, tears spilling down his face. “Please, please come back, please.”

There was something stirring in Jimmy’s chest, where his heart was. It wasn’t his heartbeat, that was long gone. It felt similar to when he had met Grian for the first time, an excited, new emotion that he had never really experienced before. A new-beginning sort of feeling. It built up inside of him, growing stronger and stronger with every desperate word that fell from Grian’s lips, until it was no longer inside of him, but all around them, glowing yellow like the sun, overpoweringly bright. 

And then Jimmy was breathing again, his heart was beating, and he hurt. He could feel every broken rib, every bruise and every split of his skin. It was more painful than anything he had ever experienced before, and a stream of broken chirps spilled from his lips. Grian immediately answered him with his own string of sounds, eyes wide, tears still dripping down his face. 

They said it was a miracle that he was alive, and that only the emergence of magic into their world had saved him. Jimmy didn’t fully believe that. It was definitely magic, he knew that much, but it wasn’t a random coincidence, no. It was Grian who had saved him, with his desperate pleading to the universe. It was Grian who hadn’t given up, even though his heart had stopped and his breathing had ceased. Grian brought him back to life. 

Grian stepped into his room in the healer’s home, nervously wringing his hands, his feathers fluffed up to twice their size. The first thing that left his lips was a chirp, high-pitched and anxious. 

Sorry-sorry-sorry.

Jimmy tilted his head, then winced as it shot a spike of pain through his head. He chirped back, okay-safe-why? 

Sorry-I was bad-sorry. Grian shuffled over to his bedside, talons scratching lightly at the wooden planks of the floor. 

Good-flock-safe-not mad. Jimmy warbled, giving him a tired grin. Flock-safe-alive.

Grian set his head down on the mattress next to his, and Jimmy could see the tears welling in them. He trilled softly, okay-okay-okay, and Grian repeated it back, taking a shuddering breath. 

Flock-flock-safe. He promised, leaning forward to touch his forehead to his best friend’s. Grian smiled, then sniffled, closing his eyes. Jimmy closed his as well, and they rested there together. It didn’t matter what was going on outside, it didn’t matter that there was a new and dangerous and magical force taking the world by storm. They had each other. That was all that mattered.