Work Text:
Roman was an expert at collecting butterflies. His collection had grown quite vast over the years, and his walls were decorated with pin boards displaying the many vibrant wings. So, when he was out along the edge of the forest and spotted an iridescent purple wing, Roman was instantly intrigued. What kind of butterfly could that possibly be? Of course, as he pushed through the bushes, Roman realized that it wasn’t a butterfly at all.
“...a fairy.” Roman gasped, looking down at the tiny humanoid figure passed out on the rock. Roman had always believed magical creatures existed, but he never expected to meet one in his lifetime. Roman leaned closer, trying to get a closer look. His eyes widened, realizing the second wing was looking...not so good. A large portion of it had been torn off with a rip still present down the middle, and the fairy himself looked rather bruised too.
“Oh. Oh. You’re hurt.” Roman stated the obvious. No wonder he was able to find this one; it couldn’t fly. The fairy gave a groan, and Roman wasn’t sure if he was fully aware that Roman was there. “Here, let me help you.”
Roman had actually dealt with this sort of situation in the past. Collecting butterflies was not just a vicious act meant to be cruel, in fact most of the wings in his collection were from butterflies that were dead when Roman found them. The injured, the wounded, the flightless, these Roman would take under his own metaphorical wing and try to mend so they could get back out into the real world, and if the injuries were too great for Roman to repair he’d help the butterflies live out the rest of their short lives happily in confinement.
The gist of it being, Roman knew what he was doing so long as fairy wings worked the same as butterfly wings. With butterflies, their bodies are so fragile that one must pick them up by the tips of their wings instead. Roman grabbed the fairy’s wings to do just that, and the moment his fingers made contact the little fae’s eyes snapped open.
“No!” The fairy cried out, squirming desperately as Roman stood up.
Roman yelped, shocked enough that he very nearly dropped the fairy. He had never had a butterfly that could talk. That was certainly new.
“Phew, that would have been quite the fall!” Roman laughed, awkwardly trying to re-adjust his grip to cup a hand under the fairy just in case. “Good thing I caught you, eh?”
“Let me go!” The fairy didn’t stop struggling, letting out a shriek that sounded as though it was in pain. Roman’s eyes widened, watching the wing tear further as the creature desperately tried to escape his hold.
“Quit struggling, you’ll only make it worse!” Roman lectured, now using his hand to wrap fully around the fairy, mindful of the wings as he restricted its movements. This seemed to finally make the fairy still, and Roman took the moment of peace as an opportunity to rush back home.
Usually, the next step in repairing a butterfly wing was to sedate the creature by putting it in the fridge. However, looking down at the little fairy scowling back at him, Roman knew he couldn’t do it. It just seemed extra cruel to put what was essentially a miniature person in an ice box.
“...you’ll cooperate with me, right?” Roman asked, looking at the fairy. The fairy hissed at him. Not exactly a promising answer, but it would have to do. Roman passed the refrigerator and headed straight back to his room, examining the boards.
“Now, let’s see…” Roman murmured, holding the fairy higher to compare. A new wing would have to be of similar shape and size to the healthy wing, or else the aerodynamics would be all off and all Roman’s work would be for nothing. Not to mention, Roman wanted to pick a pretty one as well, for mere aesthetic reasons.
As luck would have it, the fairy did seem willing to cooperate. Or at the very least, he seemed to have stopped struggling. Roman did not notice the way the fairy had paled, wings flattening against his back as he stared up at the many butterflies lining the walls.
“ Perfect.” Roman grinned, stopping at a board that was still in progress. Here was a pair of spotted purple swallowtail wings, which were black in appearance with purple and green stained glass spots across the surface. It wasn’t identical to the shimmering iridescent pair, but it was closest in shape and would make a pretty contrast. After all, repaired butterfly wings were meant to be sisters, not twins.
Roman placed the fairy down on the table, stomach up and displaying those beautiful wings. He placed the hook of a clothing hanger on them to weigh the creature down and leave Roman space to work. However, the second he went to get his tools the fairy began to sob openly.
“Please, please , don’t do this.” The fae closed his eyes, pressing his hands to his face and letting out cries that broke Roman’s heart. “Don’t hurt me.”
“Oh no, don’t be scared, don’t be scared!” Roman winced, putting his hands up to show he meant no harm. “I don’t want to hurt you! I’m trying to help you. I’m just going to remove the injured wing and give you a replacement.” Butterfly wings lacked the ability to grow back, and contrary to popular belief cutting them was no more painful than a haircut. However, this did not seem to qualm the fairy’s fears.
“Don’t take my wings!” The fairy shrieked, looking up at Roman with unabashed horror. “I- I won’t be one of your freaky displays, I won’t!” With this declaration the fairy tried to tug himself free, but the clothing hanger stayed firm.
“I’m not going to turn you into a display!” Roman insisted, only now realizing how his room must look to the poor fairy. He had planned on adding the remains of the injured fairy wing to his collection, but, well… He wasn’t about to admit to that now. “I promise, it won’t hurt.” He reached over, grabbing the swallowtail wing carefully between his fingers. “I’m just going to remove your ripped one, and replace it with this nice swallowtail instead.”
“You keep your grimy hands off my wings, you hear me?” The fairy spat. “They’re my wings, and I’d rather have my own damaged pair than some dead butterfly’s any day.”
“ Look. ” Roman put on his serious voice, getting stern. “I get it, you’re upset. But you can’t fly like this. At least with a butterfly wing you’ll stand a chance out there. Now shut up and let me help you or I’m sticking you in the fridge.”
That seemed to get through to the fairy. Or if it didn’t, he at least realized his struggles were pointless. Sullenly he turned his head, looking somber as he closed his eyes almost as if he were waiting for Roman to stab him through the heart.
It was certainly a new experience for the both of them. The fairy clearly had never had a wing cut before (after all, it can only be done once), and Roman had never had a patient who cried as he worked. It was honestly depressing, making Roman feel terrible. But what else could he do? He was trying to save the fairy’s life. If he just did as the fairy asked, it would probably die within a day from not being able to fly away from a dog or something.
“Aaaaaand...done.” Roman said quietly, for once not feeling as triumphant as he usually would after a successful surgery. He took some baby powder, sprinkling it over the wings so that when they flapped together the glue wouldn’t stick. Roman accidentally got some on the fairy’s face as well, giving him an apologetic grin. “Sorry. Here, give it a test flap.” Roman lifted the clothing hanger so the fairy could be free.
The fairy sat up, hesitantly flapping his wings together. He was looking over his shoulder, watching as the wings almost perfectly aligned.
“How does it feel?” Roman asked. He had never actually gotten feedback from a patient before.
Instead of answering, the fairy stood up, trying to launch himself into the air. A few beats of the wings were successful, but after a moment he came crashing down, clearly exhausted.
“Woah, hey, careful!” Roman put his hand out, trying to help steady the delicate creature. “Let’s get you something to eat before you go trying any stunts like that.” Roman quickly fixed a snack in the kitchen, only on the way back realizing he hadn’t actually asked the fairy what he ate.
“Um...hope you like sugar water.” Roman said sheepishly, setting down a small shot glass. “If not, I can get you something else.” It had been instinct, as that was usually what most butterflies wanted.
The fairy glared at him, but he walked over to the glass and cupped his hands, taking some of the sugar water to his lips. The wing tips flittered, a sign that the drink was enjoyed.
“So, what’s your name?” Roman asked, realizing now that the danger was over he had the chance to actually converse with a real, live, fairy. Of course, the fairy himself seemed less enthused.
“...Virgil.” The fae said, almost reluctantly.
“Virgil.” Roman repeated, watching as the wings twitched in recognition. “It’s a pleasure to meet you! I’ve never met a fairy before. Oh, my name’s Roman, by the way. Do you want some more sugar water?”
“Yeah, sure.” Virgil stood up, stretching. Roman noted he was looking much better. That wasn’t surprising; most butterflies just needed a snack before they could fly again.
He mixed some more sugar water, concerned to see Virgil wasn’t on the table where Roman had left him. A quick glance around the room and Roman was able to spot the fairy, who had managed to fly across the room and was desperately trying to shove open the window. Roman deflated slightly, having wanted to get to know the fae better, but he must still be awfully frightened. It would be best for the fairy to get back to his family.
“Need some help?” Roman asked, spooking Virgil as he snuck up behind him. Virgil jumped, pressing himself against the wall but giving a hesitant nod. Roman unlatched the window, pushing the double glass panes open. A cool spring breeze drafted in, bringing with it that wonderful meadow scent.
Virgil seemed to relax now that his exit was open. He peeled himself off the wall, looking confused as he studied Roman’s face.
“...thanks.” Virgil said finally. Roman wasn’t sure if he was talking about the window or the wing, so he just nodded.
“Anytime.” Roman assured him. “Good luck with your wing.”
Virgil gave his own nod, and then with a running leap off the window ledge he was airborne, darting out across the rolling hills of green. Soon Roman lost sight of the little purple blur, happy to see that Virgil seemed fine in his flight pattern.
After a few minutes, Roman finally tore his gaze away from the window to begin cleaning up. This was no reason to be melancholy. Virgil had even thanked Roman, which was more than he could have asked for with the way the fairy reacted in the beginning. Roman did hope he enjoyed the new wing.
Well, there was always a chance he would see Virgil again. Maybe he could ask about the wing then.