#I didn’t write it but please imagine Missa losing his mind over Phil’s wings

[soars22]

Missa stirred from his sleep slowly. He wasn’t sure what had woken him up, exactly, but the world felt… strange. The air hung flat and oddly empty in his ears. He didn’t like it.

He blinked and opened his eyes. He was in Rose’s sanctuary. He grinned softly; he hadn’t thought to ever see it again. Phil must have dragged him here in his sleep, as he had so many times before. Missa turned to the side to greet him and stopped short, his blood going cold.

Philza was dead.

Or, not quite dead, exactly, but very close to it. He was barely breathing and his skin, when Missa reaches out to feel his pulse, is cold. “No,” Missa breathes. “Chayanne?” He calls out desperately, turning to the bed where his son lays. There’s no movement, but that doesn’t mean anything. Chayanne’s a deep sleeper, he’s always been that way, it doesn’t mean-

It can’t mean-

“Chayanne,” he hisses, shaking the egg. “Chayanne, por favor, please-“

There’s no response. Frantic now, Missa scrambles over to his daughter. “Talullah, mi hija, wake up, get up! Talullah! Wake up!!”

“I don’t think they can,” a voice says quietly behind him. Missa whirls around to see the shimmering image of a woman with long dark hair watching him. “But-why?” The woman shrugs. “I don’t know. I can barely reach them, even here where I’m strongest.”

Missa blinks. “So… so they’re-dead?” The woman regards him sadly. “Yes. You need to let this happen, Missa. It’s the only way to reach them.”

“What do you mean? Reach them?” The woman cocks an eyebrow at him. “You are a reaper, aren’t you? Surely you understand how this works. I’m limited in my power here, but with you…”

Missa’s eyes widen. “Oh. Oh. Yes, yes, I understand.” He hesitates. “It’s… it’s been a while, since I’ve…” The woman smiles. “Yes. That’s why I’m here, to help you. I’m Rose.”

“Ooh…. So you’re Rose? Phil’s told me about you.” Rose laughs. “So I’ve heard. I’ll have to tease him later.” She holds out a transparent hand. “Shall we?”

Later-much later-Phil blinks open his eyes. He feels light, weightless, and the aches that have wracked his body have eased. He sits up and shakes a few stray leaves from his hair. “Chayanne?” He asks and coughs to clear his throat. “Lullah?”

“They’re here,” Missa’s voice sounds from behind him. “They’re just resting with Rose.” Phil turns to stare at Missa. “With Rose? She’s here?” Missa nods. “They’re just waiting on you.”

“Waiting on me for what?” Phil asks as he lets Missa pull him to his feet. “To move on,” Missa replies.

“To-oh,” Phil says quietly. “So… so we’re not waking up, then.” Missa shakes his head. “Not here; not exactly. Rose says she’s got bodies prepared for you somewhere else. I’m just here to lead your souls.”

Phil frowns. “Lead our souls… back to my old world, I imagine, or something like it. And you’ll go with us, right?” Missa stares at him. “I will?” Phil rolls his eyes. “Yes, dumbass. You’re part of our family now, you aren’t leaving. You don’t have a choice.”

“Oh. Uh-“

“Just shut up and let it happen, Missa,” Phil laughs. “You aren’t letting go of us that easy. I’m not about to let my Missa be homeless again.” Missa’s eyes are wide as he mouths the phrase ‘my Missa.’

Phil tugs on Missa’s hand and starts leading him down to the distant shapes of Rose, Lullah, and Chayanne. “Come on; let’s go home. We’ll have time to talk about it later.”

Home. It sounds nice; Missa’s never had one before, at least not one he remembers. He can’t wait to finally build one with the people he loves.