Eight months passed like that, and Ashton was growing frustrated that he still couldn't settle back in. He was down at the pond one day, skimming pebbles across the water's surface as his little siblings darted around underwater, collecting the stones for him.

"Ashton, dear, what's been going on with you?" his mother asked, coming up beside him. Her eyes peered intently into his, a markedly more yellow than his hazel green. He shifted uncomfortably and tried to brush off her question.

"I'm fine, Mamaire," he said lightly. "I'm doing alright now."

He turned to skip another stone across the pond. The angle was off, and it sank after two hops. He stared after it in frustration, and his mother touched his shoulder softly. "Ashton."

Ashton winced under her knowing gaze and quickly caved. "I don't know," he admitted. "I don't know what's wrong with me, either."

"Is it... your wings?" his mother asked carefully. "Do you miss them?"

Ashton looked down at the dirt and tried to ignore the deep longing that welled up at the mention of his wings. What he wouldn't give for his wings back, for his life back, for himself back— the old, carefree version of himself that had never met or even thought about humans before, that could go off with his friends without a second thought, that didn't flinch at the sound of a twig or a shadow cast over him.

He sighed. But he could never go back to that. Even if he had his wings, he had changed too much to go back to the way things were. Too much had happened between then and now, and he was spread too thin between worlds. A large part of him had died at the bottom of a glass jar two years ago. And the part that had survived seemed to have stayed behind in the hands of the kindest soul he had ever met— with Niles.

So here he was, an empty shell with memories of a place that he had been before but could no longer recognize, trying his best to mimic the people around him and hoping that no one found out that he was just a ghost of the person they once knew.

How do I rebuild something out of nothing? he wondered. How do I return to a life that's no longer mine? Is it possible to do that? Do I even want to do that?

Not to mention... losing Niles. The loss of his human had hit him unexpectedly hard, and he found himself grieving the human doctor with the same intensity with which he had mourned his wings. Maybe even more so.

But he had no idea how to say any of that, so he just nodded. "Yeah, I do," he said simply. "I miss my wings."

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A/N: Yes, I totally made this little scene its own chapter so I could make it to 50 chapters. Muwahaha. 

If you made it this far, thank you so much! I hope you enjoyed this journey. See you in the next part for an afterword and announcement.