Chapter Text
Chosen curled up in the window perch the kids had made him in the house. It overlooked a nice pond with fireflies that surrounded bushes with trees everywhere that provided excellent cover. The window was a circle window and somehow they had made it so that it could be pulled into the walls at the flick of a lever if he wanted it open, which he preferred it to be.
His head still felt weird. Red had gone back to the PC a couple of hours ago and Chosen was still making bird noises every so often. They felt like coughing fits or something and a bunch of them would rush out without warning in seemingly random intervals. But he couldn’t deny that he felt a little better. It was like there was this pressure in his mind that had suddenly gotten the opportunity to release, albeit slowly, after building over the course of five years.
He wasn’t sure what to make of this. What could be the point of any of this? Setting him up with a house in the peaceful game? And offering help with his wings? To what end? He was terrified of how many favors this put him in debt by. The house alone might be near impossible to pay off, and Red’s help with his wings and voice was probably priceless. He wanted to just let them do what they wanted, fighting back against them might offend them or show that he was still untrustworthy, but he already felt indebted to them enough.
Maybe that was the trap. Get him in enough debt to them, do enough for him that he would never be able to say no to whatever they asked of him. Not that he was good at that anyway. Maybe they wanted him to do whatever they wanted from him forever. They didn’t seem like the worst people to be in service to, but Chosen wasn’t keen on finding himself in that position again, even if it seemed inevitable.
And yet, if it was the road of less pain and suffering, it was probably the best Chosen would get. Better to have a gilded cage than a shackle.
Red had left him alone in the house with a request to have Blue over to do a medical evaluation on him and a suggestion to not pull on his feathers. That last one sucked. If that was meant to be an order, Chosen was screwed. He made it maybe an hour before finding himself in a loop of plucking feathers until he forced himself to stop. He hid the feathers as soon as he could in a pillow case. Feathered pillows are supposed to be expensive, he thought wryly as he was hiding them. Maybe he wouldn’t notice.
Except Red seemed to notice more than Chosen even thought possible. He knew what Chosen was saying when he didn’t even know the noises coming out of his own mouth, much less the meanings. But when he answered, Chosen knew what he was responding to. Against every single experience Chosen had ever had, he didn’t mind Red. He was clearly a good friend to Second and the rest of them, and he hadn’t actually done anything Chosen felt he was worse off after. He didn’t actually mind any of the kids, they hadn’t really done anything to him yet.
He didn’t know why, but whatever Red had done in the past few hours made Chosen more okay with letting him nearby. And that ghostly feeling of Red gently stroking through his feathers wouldn’t go away.
He felt cold ever since, and Chosen was never cold. It was a different kind though. Red’s hand had been warm against his feathers and as much as Chosen was wary of the contact, it had felt nice. A little too nice, Chosen thought.
The more he thought about it the worse he felt. The idea, what if that never happens again, flashed through his head and he hated the feeling of dread it gave him. What if that was it? What if that was the only scrap of gentleness those ugly things would ever receive, and they would never again be touched? It shouldn’t feel that bad. Chosen had been alone for years. Four years since the beginning, and five years after Dark. Being alone was familiar, he shouldn’t be dreading it this much. And it wasn’t even the feeling of being alone, it was the fear that he would never again be touched kindly.
And Chosen was terrified of touch! He knew he flinched away from it every single time one of those kids moved closer, and even with his hesitant comfortability with Red, that didn’t stop him from avoiding him. He hated the feeling of wanting and fearing the same thing.
He couldn’t stop stewing over it. He didn’t sleep, even though the kids had set him up with a bed and a very large pile of blankets and pillows he didn’t quite know what to do with even though his eyes would catch them every so often, and he would feel a strange way about it. He just moved to the window perch once it was clear the bed wouldn’t cut it and watched the fireflies flicker and reflect over the pond. After that, he barely moved at all. He felt too weird to move.
Even though he felt marginally better, the more distance he had from that weird interaction with Red earlier, the louder that extra little piece of his mind that had only shown up in the last five years got. He didn’t know what it wanted. But he knew it was after something and it rather scared Chosen. He could feel his heart pounding and his head hurting. He wanted to sleep, but he couldn’t do it right, and he didn’t even know what right was.
There were too many feathers surrounding Chosen on the floor when day broke, and at that point Chosen decided he might as well just bite the bullet and ask for answers. Even if he had more physical distance from everything that was unsafe, Chosen didn’t think he would make it if he kept living like this.
“What did you do?” Chosen asked when Red returned to the place, his voice tired and somewhat irritated. He hoped Red wouldn’t take offense to it, he hadn’t meant for it to sound so accusatory. Blue was close behind him and she was carrying a kit of some kind. She looked to Red to answer Chosen’s question and he chose to sit down on the edge of the couch. Chosen watched him from his new spot in a simple chair in the living room that sat near a window and kept his back to a wall. He was trying to hide his wings a little, especially the spots Chosen had pulled from, at risk of Red finding out he had disobeyed.
“I helped kickstart your avian traits,” Red said with an even voice. Like he wasn’t saying something that felt like what was going to become extremely important. “For whatever reason you’ve had them present, but not active, so a lot of them are probably hitting you at once. That’s why I have Blue with me.”
“Why did you do that?”
Red seemed like he was trying to find the right words to explain.
“If I can interrupt for a moment,” Blue said. “I’m wanting to do a mental evaluation on you as well as a physical.” Chosen narrowed his eyes. He didn’t like the idea of Blue poking around him. “Red can back me up on this, but there’s some very strong research on how ignoring avian traits and instincts can mess you up. It can legitimately drive you insane if you don’t manage it, and you’re showing concerning symptoms. I want to see what can be done to intervene.”
Red nodded in support.
“We’re trying to course correct. Second had their traits cut off for a bit and it kinda messed them up for a little while. Same with one of our other friends for a different reason. We’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
Chosen shrugged. He didn’t know what questions to ask. The only thing he could think to ask was “what’s wrong with me,” and he doubted that was a specific enough question. He was probably supposed to ask how to do something or something of the like, but whenever he thought of anything, he just felt like it came down to the same problem, that being he didn’t even have enough knowledge about what was going on to ask a question that got him to the answers he needed.
He didn’t want to look stupid in front of them, and he still didn’t want to offend them. Red seemed nice, but he didn’t know much of what Blue was like. She had been the one to separate him from Second, so he didn’t feel like pushing any boundaries with her. He was pretty sure letting Red do his thing had put him in good graces, so he could probably just repeat the process with Blue.
“Just tell me what you think I need to know. You can do whatever you want.”
Red and Blue glanced at each other.
“Okay, so you’re injured pretty much everywhere,” Blue said in an even voice. “One of your wings looks dislocated and I want to get a look at that if you’ll let me. I remember you had a healing factor though, so I want to ask you some questions about how that works for you. As for the avian stuff, I’m assuming you’re not very informed on how it differs from sticks who aren’t avians?”
He discussed his powers and his injuries with Blue somewhat openly. He was surprised when she didn’t have him do a physical checkup when his shoulders hiked up at her mentioning it, and she just asked him questions about his injuries and his pain tolerance. He confided he couldn’t actually activate his healing factor on his own easily or without enough of a reason, and she nodded seriously. She suggested that he take some healing and regeneration potions periodically to help his body heal, as she didn’t feel that he was in a dire enough condition to need stitches for anything that potions could heal.
And then she started asking him questions about his wings. How long he had them, how he was managing them, how he tried to take care of them. He wasn’t, so that was a quick answer. Then she asked how he had gotten them.
Chosen remembered it well. Somehow, it had easily been one of the most painful moments of his life, and Blue was asking questions in regard to it. She wanted to know who helped him get them out.
“Nobody,” he said. “Nobody got them out. They came out on their own.”
Blue startled and Red looked horrified. A few notes of birdsong fell out of Chosen like they had been all night, and he subtly bit his lip once they were done.
“You—you did that without assistance?”
He nodded in confirmation and felt a flash of jealousy at the implication that Second probably had their friends help when they got theirs in.
“Okay…okay. Has your wing always bent that way?” She pointed at the one that had always hung differently than the other one and sometimes hurt when it moved. He nodded again and she looked very worried and bit her lip. “It doesn’t look like it came in right. I know you said you didn’t want a physical check-up, but can I get a closer look at that so we can see what we’re dealing with?”
Chosen begrudgingly accepted, and Blue carefully approached him. She still didn’t touch, but he saw her carefully survey the wing and ghost her hand over the area.
“Does that one feel different from the other one?” she asked.
“It hurts when I move it certain ways,” Chosen said. “And I don’t always feel stuff when something touches it. It moves fine, just a little numb in some areas.”
She took a deep breath.
“It’s almost certainly dislocated. I can fix it for you if you’ll let me, but I’ll warn you it’ll hurt. I’m willing to work with you to put you under sedation for it. It’s not standard for this procedure, but given your circumstances, I think it would be okay.”
Chosen hunched and pulled the wing in question closer to his back, ignoring that it was a bit more difficult to do that than it was with the other one.
“Do you have to fix it?”
She opened and closed her mouth, looking conflicted. “You won’t be able to fly on it until it’s set, and it’s probably caused you some nerve damage in that wing as well. You have been living with it for five years, and you don’t seem too bothered by it, but it is something that ought to be fixed. I can wait on it for a bit, but you might find it much more comfortable if you go ahead and get it re-set sometime soon.”
Chosen looked at her suspiciously and then at Red, who wore a poorly disguised hopeful look on his face. It was clear what the two of them were wanting, so the best move here was probably to let them do their thing. It had been working so far.
“Do what you need to,” he said, looking down and turning his body slightly to give her better access to the wing in question..
“Oh!” Blue hadn’t been expecting that response, apparently. “Um, yeah, I can do that now. Do you want sedation or some slowness?”
“I want my wits about me. It can’t be worse than when they came out.”
Blue looked like she might want to argue, but decided against it and moved over to where Chosen sat stiffly.
“Am I okay to touch?”
Chosen gave her a simple nod, and Blue firmly grabbed the wing at the end of the humorous bone and placed a hand on his back near where the wing attached. It wasn’t an aggressive grab by any means, but it did set Chosen on edge. It was decisively less gentle than Red’s touch had been, which made sense given that she was about to move the entire limb back into place. She moved the wing a few times, feeling at how the bones moved and where it was sitting against the joint for a point of reference. Chosen held on to the arm of his chair tightly, trying to disguise his discomfort.
“You want me to count you down or just do it?” She asked while holding the wing stable. Chosen told her to just do it. He didn’t want to flinch away and mess up whatever she was doing, and he thought he might if she counted down. She instructed him to take some deep breaths.
He did his best. Breathing was hard sometimes, but he tried to follow her instruction.
After the fifth deep breath in, he felt her move the wing firmly and could feel the bone grinding against the socket it was supposed to sit in. She rotated it in a strange movement and he winced at the feeling of twisted ligaments twisting out of positions they had been stuck in for years. He heard a popping and creaking noise to accompany it and he shut his eyes and grit his teeth.
Then he heard the loudest pop of all of them as she pushed against the joint hard and he felt the thing slip back into the joint that he didn’t even know it was out of. A loud caw that just meant Ow! Escaped him at the feeling. She held the wing stable for a minute while he breathed shallowly as the pain started to subside. It felt unstable, but undeniably better. He didn’t realize that’s what it was supposed to do, though he probably should have, given that the other wing was in that position.
He noticed Red trying to meet his eyes, but he wasn’t really focusing on anything. Blue was saying something, but he didn’t hear much of it. She said the word sling, and he thought that made sense. She probably didn’t want it to fall out of place again.
He felt her wrap a comfortable piece of fabric around the wing so that it folded naturally and comfortably, and then secured it to another one. It kept the wing from moving too much and was meant to keep it from falling out of place.
“You did really well, Chosen,” Blue said after she was done. “Good job.”
Why is she complimenting me? Chosen thought and shot her a confused look, and she gave him a friendly smile. These kids made no sense.
“How are we feeling for the day?” Red asked as Blue backed away to give Chosen space.
“Fine, I guess,” Chosen answered. Yesterday had been more overwhelming. He probably had a bit more in him. He didn’t feel like having his wings touched for a bit, and it was probably best to let the bad one heal. Even if he was still feeling the lingering cold beneath his skin that had only been melted by a gentle touch, his apprehension was winning in the moment. Still, he didn’t feel like he wanted to hide in a hole yet.
“Alright, that’s good to hear,” Red said. “How’s your birdsong feeling?”
Chosen shrugged. It was weird, and he didn’t feel like he was in very good control of it, but it didn’t give him a feeling of terror the way some of the other parts of this whole thing did.
“Can you sing us a song?”
Chosen gave him an apprehensive look, but tentatively gave a couple experimental whistles before going quiet again. Red seemed happy with the result and whistled back at him, and then waited for Chosen to respond again. He didn’t know how long this back and forth was going to last, but the two of them whistled and waited for a few rounds until Red seemed satisfied. With what, Chosen was unsure.
And then they moved on when Red asked how Chosen had slept. Poorly, hardly at all, and Chosen just gave a noncommittal answer. He was still unsure how much of what he was instructing on was an order, and what was just recommended. Sleep seemed strange to demand, but he didn’t want to take any chances with how odd they were already being.
They asked him if he had gotten into the blankets and pillows, and Chosen just answered that he didn’t know what he was supposed to do with them. The answer was apparently nesting.
So, it was decided that Red and Blue would walk Chosen through the process of building a nest. He didn’t know what he was supposed to be doing with the pillows and blankets, but Blue giving small tips on how to weave them together did help the process.
They had given him quite a few blankets, more than what Chosen felt like he needed for the size he wanted to make. He could tell some were drawn by Second, with the linework, and they were some of his favorites in the pile. White, black and red blankets and pillows were interwoven together for what was admittedly a very soft bed. It took a while. His movements felt clumsy, and the blankets fell apart from each other a lot when he was first starting, but after a little bit of instruction from where Red and Blue were keeping an eye on him, he figured out how to keep it together. As soon as it was made, Chosen actually felt the call of sleep strong enough that he felt he might actually be able to get some rest.
He tried to keep his eyes open for any further guidance or instruction from Blue and Red, but Red just told him to get some sleep and Chosen was happy to oblige. When he woke up, both of them were gone and he was alone in the Minecraft house again.
-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-
“I’m really worried,” Red reported when he got back to the PC and Blue was nodding alongside him. As the one who had been given the role of helping Chosen through his avian traits the most, he was also the one who was going to be reporting on progress or relapses.
“What’s going on?” Second was getting their own preen done by Green. They had needed to reconnect with the feeling in their wings after this whole powers thing that had happened. Some of their feathers still had a faint green glow to them and Second had confided that they were feeling a little detached from them, so someone had been around rather frequently to help with that. Red wanted a turn soon. After seeing and being so close to Chosen’s dismal feathers, he wanted a reminder of what they were supposed to look like for himself.
“I think, and this sounds like a strange reason to be worried, but he’s too…”
“Agreeable,” Blue finished. “I fixed his wing."
“You’re kidding,” Second said, slightly deadpan and Green paused to let him finish his statement. “He let you do that immediately?”
“That’s the problem,” Blue said. “I would usually be relieved, but I’m concerned about how willing he was. Red came in last night and told us he was fawning, and I think he’s still doing it. He should be started on physical therapy as soon as possible, but I can’t gauge his comfortability if he’s just trying to agree with us on everything. If I push something too far, I don’t think he’ll say anything, and I’m not comfortable treating him while that’s going on.”
Red was nodding along with her.
“I’m doing everything I can. I jumpstarted his birdsong for that reason, but we’re going to need to go really slow with him.”
“How long do you think that’ll take?” Second asked, worried.
“...I have no idea,” Red admitted and Second’s face fell a little. “He’s so far behind. Do you think you’ll want to go over there and try to help?”
Second sighed and drew a wing around themself to fiddle with a feather while Green lightly messed with some feathers on their other wing, though not enough to distract them from their train of thought.
“I don’t know, I’m still really unnerved by him. I want to help but…just being around him—you remember how I noticed Purple was an avian? And how she was struggling and I just saw more about it because of what I am? I see things that I can’t describe or explain. The movements, wing twitches, mannerisms, all of it.” the group nodded along. “It’s worse with him. Not just that he’s worse off than she was, but also given our…” Second waved their hand around a little. “Connection. With Purple I was worried. With him I’m scared because I can see so much. I feel bad, but I think I’m going to need him to stabilize a bit more before I spend more time around him.”
Second was naturally met with understanding. It was the whole reason they hadn’t been sent as the primary helper for Chosen, because even though they seemed to know him best, and Chosen was clearly more keen on reaching out to them, that kidnapping incident and everything that followed had gotten them to a rocky start, and first impressions were powerful.
They had been relaxing on the PC, along with the others for the most part. Purple had come over and both of them had a little preening session to relax. She had called them frantically asking why Yellow was on a wanted poster produced by Rocket Corp, and while the group was a bit too tired to bring her in on the intricacies of what had happened, she had hung around and brought them some food for a good portion of the day. She had eyed the glow on some of Second’s feathers, but opted to avoid asking questions about it, given that they had quickly brought their wings behind their back when she spotted it.
Chosen needed time to recover, and so did Second, even if it was probably less. The whole ordeal had hit them the hardest out of the group, followed by Yellow, who was also taking her time to relax. Everyone was tired and relieved that they were all okay for the most part, and Red was handling it with guidance from the rest of them.
It would probably pan out fine.
-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-
None of this made sense. Chosen didn’t leave the house, he didn’t think they would want him to. They needed to be able to find him easily enough. He could probably stick to the surrounding woods and the pond, but he should stay within eyesight of the house if he did go out the door.
He lingered for most of the day, but he spent a lot of time in his nest. It was easily his favorite spot, sitting near the window on the upper floor right where he could look out the window. He did get bored every so often, and the sling that kept his bad wing in place felt strange to wear, but he knew better than to take it off. He didn’t really want to anyway, his wing felt like it might fall out of place again if he did, and its new position was quite a bit more comfortable.
Red had mentioned that the gang had hidden little secrets around the house, and Chosen didn’t know what to make of that. Did he mean traps or did he mean details? He wondered if he meant the various peanut M&M packages that kept showing up in strange places, but those didn’t feel like secrets.
Chosen didn’t do a lot of exploration of the house in the following days, even as they turned into weeks. It wasn’t that big, it was just the right size for him, he just didn’t interact with it much. He was pretty sure it was supposed to be his house, but he didn’t want to make too many assumptions. Still, if it was his house he had been getting some invasive thoughts on how to personalize it some more. He should know better by now to not be planning out how he should personalize the place where he slept, but he was thinking about how it could look if he got his hands on the right decorations. He liked the idea of adding in some more color, and he had an idea to add metallic decorations around the place.
He had once seen a clip from a movie through an apartment window where a character’s bedroom was a beautiful collection of everything small and colorful he could get his hands on, with pretty dangly things everywhere, beads, kites, banners and everything. He wanted to live in that room and never leave it and never have to see a wall of blank white ever again. The art had been so beautiful.
But he was unsure if the place was his to do with, so he might just disregard the idea.
Red would show up daily to hang out with him for some reason. He brought one of the others on occasion, and Blue would come by to check on his wing’s healing and drop off some potions for him that he drank about half of the time. Green had shown up at some point and asked if Chosen was a music enjoyer. He didn’t feel like he was one, but the songs Green had shown him sounded nice. Yellow came by once and the two of them had a very awkward, but cathartic conversation about the memory scanner. Chosen hated that he found some kind of relief that someone else knew what it had felt like, and then he cursed himself for being glad she had also gone through it. Second hadn’t come by yet, and Chosen couldn’t blame them. Out of everyone, they had the most reason to hate him.
Sometimes Red brought him food and other times he heated something up in Chosen’s kitchen, which he hadn’t touched since starting to live here. He would have him practice birdsong, which was becoming more natural, and inch closer to his wings for a few minutes before backing off. He hadn’t actually preened them yet, if he was remembering that word right. It was clear to Chosen that Red wanted to, and he didn’t know why he wasn’t just doing it. It wasn’t like Chosen would stop him.
He was pretty sure he was figuring it out as well. The point of all of this. He had been suspecting it since the beginning, but the longer it went, the more sure he was. He put pieces together in his head partly because he hated feeling so lost as all of this was happening. There was no way those kids weren’t angry with him after everything, and he didn’t even want to think of how angry Alan probably was, given how much he had put his favorite through. Except the kids were doing all these things that were keeping him out of harm’s way, and that didn’t match the behavior of someone who was angry. And then he actually remembered where those kids lived.
Alan’s PC. Despite never having an indication that Alan had those kids doing Chosen’s old roles on the PC by force, that didn’t necessarily mean they were unfamiliar with some kind of servitude agreement. And once he considered that, he was sure that’s what this was.
Chosen knew how useful he and his abilities were to the average stick, and he was sure the kids were aware of it, even if he had caused them and himself more trouble than what he should. Even without abilities, Chosen knew how useful an extra hand to help with menial things could be. The kids must have realized how much they had over Chosen and made the smart decision to put it to good use. Except all this avian stuff was obviously impacting how useful he could be, so he would probably just be more useful when all of that was acting as it should. They were just kind enough to give him a short break so he could recover long enough that he wouldn’t negatively affect whatever they asked of him.
It was a gilded cage.
And honestly, after a bit of thinking, this was probably the best situation Chosen could have asked for. Food, shelter, a sense of comfort and company that felt relatively safe even if they were in charge of him. He wondered if they might become some line of defense for the sake of keeping him in good shape, should something come up. He was set up around moving air and nature, he could see the stars, and his wings didn’t hurt as bad.
Maybe if he was good enough at what they asked of him, they might let him have some more freedom away from the house to explore. He had liked exploring the game years ago, and he might like doing it again, and they hadn’t told him not to yet, so that door might still be open. He could prove himself trustworthy enough to not run off, and it wasn’t like he had anywhere else to go. Or he could decorate his own bedroom like the pretty bedroom. He didn’t know why it was so stuck in his head.
It did mean that he absolutely had to stay in their good graces, or whatever was close to that due to the situation, but he could live with this arrangement. This might become the best years of his life.
It was just…eventually they wouldn’t be so nice. Once he was less broken, they would leave the support behind because he wouldn’t need it anymore, and that scared him. He hated to admit that he was starting to look forward to Red’s visits, and was often curious to see if he would bring one of the others. It was selfish, but he didn’t want that comfort to go away, and it inevitably would.
He thought about slowing his own recovery. Maybe he just wouldn’t stop pulling out feathers so the kindness wouldn’t leave? That seemed like a really good exchange, feathers for kindness. But he didn’t want to upset anyone, and what would happen to him when they found out? It wasn’t worth the risk.
Chosen resolved to try to be more agreeable when he finally figured it out. If he proved himself well enough, maybe the kindness wouldn’t wear off as quickly. It might not be easy, despite reminders that he shouldn’t pull out his feathers. He couldn’t stop it, and Red had repeatedly said he wouldn’t be able to fly when his wing healed with how few feathers he had. He hoped the impossible request wasn’t doing too much damage to his standing.
After he figured it out, he started letting Red closer. That was the goal, and if Red got some sense of achievement from this, it could help with this dynamic long term. Once he even bumped Red with his good wing when he made some corny joke, and even though the movement felt genuine, he was trying to be as open as he could make himself.
It was working too. As the weeks passed, Chosen wasn’t threatened, warned, reprimanded, or in trouble with them once. Even when he lived with Dark, there was usually some incident once a week when she snapped at him that he was doing something that was annoying or she lost control of her code for a bit and told Chosen to go to his room and lock the door so she could get a grip on herself. It was nice of her to give him the warning, so he never minded. Still, incidents were frequent. Maybe if he had taken this approach with her, things would be different. He had never tried to appease her the way he did now, but she didn’t have the same position of authority over him the color gang did, so it wouldn’t have fit. Honestly, she would have called him pathetic if she saw him now.
But it was keeping him safe, so he was just going to keep it up, no matter what it took.
It was a few more days before Red actually asked him if he was up for a preen and Chosen finally agreed. Well, he said it was fine. He still missed the contact. The touch had been nice every time he had felt it, even if he was terrified at the idea of letting Red so close to him, and the threat of getting deeper into his instincts worried him.
He knew it could take his wits from him and stick him into what had been described as “a state of relaxation and bonding.” What it actually sounded like was a complete lack of control over himself or his faculties, and Chosen didn’t know what he would do once he wasn’t meticulously keeping track of everything.
But it had to be done. For the sake of staying in good graces. And that’s how Chosen found himself sitting in his nest staring at Red, who had borrowed some oils or something that were supposed to help his wings be more healthy from Second.
“Do you want to lay down?” Red asked and Chosen tensed up. As much as he wanted to just do what he said, the idea of laying down with his back completely exposed while he was apparently about to get high on something to do with being an avian was not comforting. “You can stay sitting up if you prefer, it’s just a very relaxing process.”
Chosen sat still at the edge of the nest. Wordlessly, he extended his good, but still ugly wing and looked out the window, unwilling to look at the thing.
“Sitting, okay then. Can I sit in the nest with you?”
Chosen hesitated. He didn’t love the idea, it was his nest. He had only really made it large enough for himself, and he worried about letting someone close enough to touch it, but if Red was asking…
“That’s fine, I can sit outside it,” Red had apparently noticed his hesitance enough. “Are you okay for me to start?”
Chosen nodded, still not looking at Red and trying to distract himself by looking at the view out of his window.
Red placed a hand on his wing again, not moving, just letting him feel and the warm feeling was back. Chosen took a couple deep breaths to try to relax while Red did his thing. He didn’t need to try too hard as Red started to gently pet his wing. It didn’t feel different from the first time Red had pet the wing until he actually started fixing little problems with it. He started smoothing frayed feathers with an oil, picking out small bits that had gotten stuck in the feathers.
It felt nice. If this was supposed to be how it felt, Chosen understood why Red had hyped it up as much as he had. He was giving small chirps and warbles of satisfaction almost immediately, though a few anxious ones still made their way through. His eyes slipped closed for long intervals before he forced them back open.
It was the best feeling Chosen had ever had in his life.
And it was terrifying. The bird side was loving this, and Chosen could feel it start forcing his rational brain out. He couldn't let it, he was going to screw up his carefully curated image if he did, he just knew it. He had been so careful in monitoring himself and if it went away suddenly, it would ruin this tentative peace he had been living with.
So he sat there, trying to control his breathing and keep track of his rational thoughts, desperately reaching back out for them when they slipped away and forcing himself back into awareness while simultaneously trying to enjoy the comfort Red was giving him.
It was hard.
“Oh, you’re crying,” Red observed after a few minutes of silent struggle, and stilled his hands. “Do you need me to stop?”
Chosen shook his head. He hadn’t noticed he was crying. Even though it was a lot for him to handle, he moved his wing to imitate the movement he had felt Red doing just earlier. It had been so nice, he just needed to control himself.
Chosen…Chosen had never been treated this gently in his life. Never by Alan, and Dark could never quite get close enough without her code acting up, so she always kept a certain kind of distance even at their closest. And once she was gone, Chosen had been on his own before being captured. So this. This was unusual. And he didn’t know what to do with it, especially given what he had figured out.
Chosen felt his breathing speed up at the reminder. This wouldn’t last. It would go away as soon as he was deemed “healthy,” and he needed to be prepared for it all to be ripped away.
“When?” He forced out, trying not to chirp the question.
“When what?” Red asked, having returned to preening, which made talking that much harder, but he asked him a question, and Chosen should answer.
“When will you all stop being nice? I have nothing to pay you back with. When are you going to start having me do stuff?”
“Do stuff?” Red sounded confused, and Chosen didn’t know why, though he kept running his hands through thin and rugged feathers. He reset a twisted one, and Chosen cooed and tried to push through the fog so his words didn’t shut off. “What are you talking about?”
“Like…that’s what this is. You need me to be in a better shape so I can actually perform tasks the way you’ll want me to?” Red’s fingers skittered over a really satisfying spot, and Chosen struggled to keep a grip on himself as his birdsong took over for a moment to indicate that the action felt particularly good. He forced himself to get back to his words so he could finish his question. “Right? I need to have my mind and body good enough so that I’m not a completely useless servant?"
Red went silent and his hand stilled. Chosen heard him swear quietly under his breath. Oh no, that was the wrong thing to say. He didn’t like that. I did something bad. I knew it. I knew it. He probably hadn’t been expecting Chosen to know what the game was and was trying to figure out how to answer his question, hopefully not too angrily, but Red hadn’t been angry so far. Even so, Chosen knew what was coming, and he truly didn’t mind. The kids had already proven themselves to be decent handlers. Better than anything he had ever had before, so Chosen had no intention to fight it, he just wanted to know when that shift would happen.
He heard the sound Red move around so he was facing Chosen at the front, rather than at his back. Chosen spared a glance up at Red to see if perhaps he was reacting to Chosen knowing what this was, and he was surprised to see a crestfallen look of horror on Red’s face. Chosen furrowed his brows. That didn’t match.
“Oh Cursors, no Chosen, we’re not—god, we’re not enslaving you. No no no, you’re free to do and go where you want, we’re trying to help you!”
“...I don’t understand.” Chosen had kept saying that. It had to be getting annoying. He wasn’t stupid, he just kept encountering information that didn’t make sense in accordance to everything else in his life.
“I—why would you think we were doing that?” Red’s voice raised and cracked a little. If Chosen had the ear feathers like Second did, they would be pinned back. “Did someone say something? And why would you just let—”
“Because I’m in debt,” Chosen said. It was obvious, wasn’t it? “I kidnapped Second, I got them captured by my own adversaries, and then that got Yellow hurt, and the rest of you had to do so much because of what I did. I put you all through that, and then you all still had to help me. You built me a house to live in, and you’re helping me with my wings. I’ll never be able to pay you all back, so…this makes the most sense.”
Red was shaking his head midway through Chosen’s explanation.
“That’s not how we work,” Red said, voice a little choked up. “That’s not how anyone should work! We protect each other, we support each other. We don’t buy any of that, it’s just there. Chosen, if we were mad or wanted something from you, we would have said something. And we would never force you to do anything you don’t want to. You’re not stuck here, you—you’re allowed to leave!”
Chosen was breathing heavily and trying to get a grip on himself. Even though he had been trying, some of his rational brain had slipped away and he was trying to get it back.
“...no? But that doesn’t make sense,” Chosen forced out and he felt his face flush with embarrassment as a few chirps escaped him. Confused. Why help?
Red looked as lost as Chosen felt.
“Chosen, please, please be honest with me, I won’t be mad or whatever you’re worried I’ll be. Do you actually want to get preened right now?”
No. The word came to mind immediately, and Chosen was afraid of what it might mean for him. But Red asked him to be honest, so he mutely shook his head and looked down. As nice as the touch was, he just…didn’t want someone else touching his wings.
“Then I won’t,” Red said. And that was it. No anger, no complaints that he was being a buzzkill or punishment for not doing what he was ordered. He just took it and was fine with that. There was barely even a reaction. He shifted away to give more space, and Chosen felt himself calm down a little. His head felt a little clearer than before. “Do you want me to get you some water?”
“Sure.” Water sounded good right now.
So that’s how Chosen ended up with a half drunk glass of water in front of him with Red propped against the wall at a respectful distance after both of them had taken a break to collect themselves.
“Do you want to leave?” Red asked earnestly once the shake in Chosen’s hands had gone down.
That was an interesting question Chosen had never been asked before. Did he actually want to leave? No, he actually liked it here. Minecraft was a comforting game, and it was away from all previous threats, and it felt hidden enough that nothing would find him. He hadn’t actually been in any danger since coming here, and the house was nice. He didn’t feel like he wanted to move his nest either, it had become a favorite spot of his.
“No, I like it here. Is the house mine, or do you all want me to make my own?”
“It’s your house, you can do whatever you want with it. Burn it down and start over if you like, it’s yours. No strings attached. Do you want me to leave you alone?”
And there was another interesting question. This felt like a lot of freedom because it actually sounded like if Chosen said he wanted Red to leave him alone, he actually would. Except, he actually did like Red, and whether this was a new instinct thing or just because Red bore a similar shade as his former best friend or because Red was just genuinely a nice person that had offered a lot of kindness to him, Chosen didn’t know. The others were great too, Red was just around a lot more.
“No, you can stay. You can keep coming over. It’s—I like you guys, you’re really nice and you’ve done a lot for me. I just thought there was some unsaid agreement about my place in the group. I—I’m sorry, I should have—I’m grateful for what you all have done, I just didn’t think it was free, that’s all. You’re all lovely. Sorry I didn’t say thank you. Thank you.”
“Okay, okay that’s good,” Red answered, and he relaxed a little against the wall. “One moment, I want to collect my thoughts.” The room was quiet aside from the faint metallic sounds from the wind chimes that Green had brought Chosen to hang outside his window after asking Chosen why he tapped against anything solid as often as he did, just for the answer that Chosen didn’t like it to be too quiet.
Chosen took the time to collect his thoughts as well. So he wasn’t going to be in service to the color gang. But they seemed to want him around anyway? The idea gave him more hope than he knew what to do with. He thought about the stories Red had told him, of their adventures in Minecraft and on the PC, and how they would just get to play around with each other. Did this mean he was invited on those adventures? Was he allowed to spend time with them when he wanted to, and not just when they wanted to visit?
The idea that they cared about him, specifically, was circling around in his head. It felt like it was impossible, because that hadn’t happened before. Not in a circumstance when he hadn’t proved himself to be worth caring for. But that’s what Red was saying and Chosen was starting to dare to hope.
“I want to switch strategies with you,” Red said, once his thoughts were collected. “The fact that you do need to get your avian traits indulged and you need to get more in-tune with them, hasn’t changed, but I would like to see you take a more active role in that.”
“How can I do that?” Chosen asked. He still didn’t feel like he knew anything, and what he did know, the kids were clearly more informed.
“We left some books on avians over there on that shelf when you first moved in.” Red pointed at an untouched bookshelf that had a few titles. So that’s what they were. Chosen didn’t know if they were for decoration or for use, and he hadn’t been willing to be wrong. “I’m going to ask you to read up on them and you pick out what you want to work on, and I’ll help you based on that. I want to make this more collaborative.”
That actually sounded nice. Chosen could read up on what he didn’t know, the kids wouldn’t need to answer every little question, it opened up the line of information to outside sources.
“I can research,” he agreed, and both of them lapsed into silence while Chosen fidgeted. He wanted to pull at his feathers, but it was weird to just start doing that in front of someone else, even if Red was apparently not ordering him away from the action, just advising him. Instead, he went to fix the end of a blanket that was sticking out of his nest. It wasn’t really that bothersome, he just wanted something to mess with.
“I should ask you,” Red said and cleared his throat. “Is there anything you want from us? A lot of this has been me asking you if you want something, but if there’s something specific you’re lacking I haven’t offered…”
The question caught Chosen like a fake-out punch and his birdsong decided to take the initiative before he could actually think about it.
Love me, please. A broken warble made its way out and Chosen didn’t mean to do that. Chosen felt his face heat up and chest tighten. How mortifying. As soon as further kindness was offered, and right after Chosen had pushed Red away from what was supposed to be a more affectionate action he was back demanding it again. Red’s face, though already clearly communicating some kind of concern and sadness, softened into something gentler. He kept his hands off Chosen’s wings, but carefully extended a hand around Chosen’s shoulder to bring him in closer for a hug.
A hug.
And that just about broke Chosen. He felt like he had cried too much today, but if there was actually something to do it over, it was this.
It wasn’t an avian thing, it wasn’t a pain thing. It felt universal. It wasn’t attached to instincts or trauma or anything of the like, it was just a hug, and it was exactly what he needed right then. Just something that felt distinctly separate from everything else that fulfilled what he had always felt like he needed.
He felt his body relax, genuinely relax. The tension he had been holding on to since moving in finally started easing out of his body because of something other than unfamiliar instincts.
“I know it’s a lot to deal with right now,” Red said. “It’s going to be okay.”
“It’s never okay,” Chosen mumbled back, though he did so through a relaxed sigh. “I’m so tired.”
“Rest then, we’re all doing it.”
It wasn’t an order, but Chosen didn’t mind doing it. He felt something in his mind slip into place in regard to how comfortable he actually felt around Red, like the way his wing had when Blue had pushed on it just right. He had asked for love and gotten it. For the first time in five years, Chosen felt like these two parts of his mind were in agreement about something, and it was the simple feeling of love, coming from both sides of him.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Three Months Later
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Second had come around a month or so after what Chosen quietly called the turning point, and they had managed to have a decent discussion about everything. Second knew more about his past with Alan than he had expected him to, and was surprisingly okay with letting the relationship between the two remain distant. They had been nice to get to know better. They turned out to be familiar with the bedroom in the movie Chosen had seen from afar.
“Howl’s bedroom!?” They said excitedly and their wings started flapping happily and even their ear feathers moved up and down. It was really cute and Chosen’s wings twitched watching them like that, and he gave a few small flaps to mirror them. “You want to make your room like Howl’s? Can I help? I’ve always wanted to work on a project like that!”
And after finding out Chosen hadn’t actually seen the movie in question, they sat him down to watch it with the rest of the group. It was the first group event he had been a part of and it had gone so smoothly. He really liked the movie, and he wanted to personalize his bedroom even more after watching it. It had been a long project. They had worked on sketches and patterns for the layout of the room, but Second insisted that every item had to have meaning, otherwise it “wasn’t really like Howl’s bedroom.” Second had drawn and re-drawn beads and trinkets and lanterns to hang about, each with hidden stories and meanings. Chosen had taken up messing with banner patterns in the game, while also collecting small things in the game when they ventured out from the house on good days. When they had finished hanging everything up, Second had playfully nudged Chosen with one of their wings.
“Looks like the raven brain got what it wanted.”
Chosen had to agree with them.
The others came around more often, and eventually he did feel up to letting Red preen his still dismal feathers.
Just Red though. Even though he was happy getting closer to Second, Red had done a lot of work in helping Chosen feel okay with it. He trusted Red on a closer level. And it had felt good. Every time up to that point when Red had touched his wings had felt pretty good, but when he actually felt ready for it, it had been the most amazing thing in his life. He was a little embarrassed when he came back to, after properly losing his rational brain, but Red hadn’t made much of a deal out of it.
Chosen worked hard to keep his hands off of a certain patch of his wings when some new feathers were coming in. He kept pulling from other areas, but he was staying away from one until some new, healthier feathers grew in properly.
A few weeks later, he ended his hard-earned streak intentionally by gently pulling out the shiniest black feather he could find and hesitantly giving it to Red, who had jumped and squealed in excitement before accepting it and pulling Chosen into an excited hug. Chosen was sure the others would get their own eventually, but he felt like Red had earned it. And he wanted him to have one the most. It was hard to grow ones he was okay with giving away as a gift.
Red tucked the shiny black feather onto his belt, right next to where one of Second’s green and orange ones was. Chosen liked seeing it there.
Chosen wasn’t able to fly yet. Blue was still monitoring his formerly dislocated wing, even if it didn’t need the sling anymore. The wing hadn’t gotten the same sensation the other one did, and Blue had kindly warned him he might never actually get sensation in the wing back. Nerves struggled to heal more, but she said there was always a chance to be surprised.
He didn’t have enough feathers. He hadn’t stopped pulling them out, even if he was doing it less than before. Green and Second had made some jewelry that could hang off his wings, pretty silver ornaments that he could attach to his stronger feathers, that actually managed to make his wings look a little presentable with all the half-broken feathers and bald spots. It was easier to not pull when he actually liked how they looked. He would still end up surrounded in a pile of feathers at times and move them into the pillowcase, which had almost grown large enough to act as an actual pillow. He doubted he would use it to sleep on, but he didn’t mind the idea of making it a decorative pillow that could sit somewhere in his colorful room.
They still didn’t look great and he envied how Second’s looked every time he saw them. But things were getting better, and they had some new ones growing in that he was fighting off pulling prematurely better than he was usually able to.
For the first time ever, he felt like he might be able to use them to fly one day. And what a wonderful idea that was.