Chapter Text
Parrot liked hero work, he really did.
The adrenaline in fights, the euphoric feeling you get after realizing you won, and saved people — though the thought of losing more people than saving had always rested right behind everything else. The wonders of working with wonderful people who have the same passion of helping as you do, it's nice. Amazing, even.
Now, about those wonderful people he calls his peers.
"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!" Arrcrow asks, quite calmly, shaking his friend around, just as calmly.
Parrot blankly stares at him, before switching to Glassfeather in demeanor. "Healing up." He says flatly, tone betraying nothing, even as Arrcrow stares at him in disbelief.
The other hero gestures vaguely at his figure, covered in bandages, and clearly not possible to have healed by himself without a helping hand, because everyone in that room was sure that he had multiple stitches under all that bandage.
"I- wh— dude?!" Arrcrow sputters, disbelieving and bewildered at his friends nonchalance in his situation — his dark wings were flared up too, how fun.
"Alright, let's calm down.." Ducere hums, gently pulling Arrcrow back by the shoulder, before addressing Glassfeather. "We've been worried, your tracking chip got destroyed and we didn't know where you were the entire week." The man in blue and green explains, tone laced with worry. It made Parrots skin crawl.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled quietly, tone guilty. He didn't bother with an explanation — mainly because he didn't come up with one, and because he didn't really want to put Wemmbu in a bad spot if he were to say anything about the actual situation.
The other heroes stared at him, waiting for an explanation that wasn't coming. After a few days of acting and being treated more like a human, rather than a person who needed constant attention to keep images, he forgot how annoying the constant questioning was.
But he appreciated the concern, always did.
"I.. can't provide you guys with an explanation as to why I disappeared, I'm sorry." He offers more slowly, looking away in shame. "Sorry for worrying you guys.." he huffs, hand coming up to dig nails into his arm.
Orchid sighs from where she sat, shaking her head with a soft smile. "Quit apologizing.. let's just get you cleaned up, you look like you've been sent to the meat grinder." She hums, standing up to approach the others.
"..Yeah, you definitely need a new suit, too." Arrcrow huffs, looking at the jacket and pants his fellow hero was wearing. And.. yeah, it was rough — Glassfeathers caretaker didn't really have anything for a very tall hero. Wemmbu had to resort to opening the attic for the very oversized items of clothing he had — in his defense, heroes did have some physical changes to make sure their civilian forms weren't easy to track down. Glassfeather especially.
The tall hero chuckles softly, yeah, he loved his job.
It had been a week since Glassfeather came back on the field, properly taken care of — though the medics had complimented the stitch-work when they unraveled the bandages around his body.
The others had reported what had happened during his absence. It sounded.. calmer — which was obviously suspicious, because normal villains would've used that downtime to attack as much as possible. He should.. no, let's not think about helping unconventional friends right now, not when you're on duty.
Anyway.. he'd also been informed that it had almost been three weeks since Veil had disappeared. Which was.. weird. Veil didn't do disappearing acts, not for this long. And no one knew exactly what happened, all he gathered was "bright white light" and they were gone.
It's concerning, yeah — mainly because Veil did help out quite a lot sometimes. And by a lot, he meant it — Veil had saved him quite a lot. Giving him a few moments of immortality to get out of sticky situations, teleporting him to randomized places to give him some breathing room — while Veil had always been quite.. violent, they clearly did care for people. In.. a weird way.
They adored making a little show for kids who tried chasing their veil train, and sometimes letting them get close enough to play with their hair. They liked chatting with locals who weren't too afraid of their power, and sometimes even helped out with shop-related things if they wanted to. They cared, and it took Glassfeather an embarrassingly long time to realize that, after.. what, multiple attempts to try and contain a person who could literally one-shot the entire world if they wished to do so?
But, anyway — no point in dwelling over a missing vigilante, if a person who could bend reality at will gets sick, then what will stop them from just healing?
He had a very important event today.
Visiting the kids in the hospital — in his.. shorter form, anyway. Going down five inches wouldn't hurt — not unless Arrcrow somehow noticed the height cut — so that the kids wouldn't get too scared. Plus, it was closer to his actual height.
Hero armor had the fun ability to "change" a persons physique, meaning that it could manipulate how another person sees the hero. In Glassfeathers case, it made him look taller, more like a hero.
That was something to know about Parrot, he liked being Glassfeather better. But he hated being treated like him.
Back on track, he walks beside Arrcrow — beloved by kids for his more energetic nature — who had a certain softness in his usual grin.
"..Excited?" Glassfeather asks, followed by a soft huff as they walked through the halls of the hospital. Arrcrow catches himself, quickly covering his mouth, despite his smile getting wider behind his hand.
"I mean- making kids smile, despite everything they're.."
"Simple yes or no question, by the way."
"..Yeah, yeah- I'm excited."
Glassfeather chuckled softly, he understood his friend well. Just the general knowledge of knowing you could make the world a little better for kids who think they won't feel the warmth of the sun beyond windows. Some won't, and he can't change that — he hates that he can't, but some things are out of reach for most people — but the least he could do is try to give them some sort of hope.
It sounds cruel, he knows.
He watches as kids swarm at Arrcrows legs, who laughs alongside them, even lifting one energetic child up into the air, and letting them sit on his shoulders. A soft smile appears on Glassfeathers face, before he feels a small tug at his wing.
A little girl, no older than eight, looking up at him with a curious gaze. Glassfeather huffs out a soft laugh, and slowly crouches to her level. "Yes?" He asks, head tilting slightly.
The girl shifts in her spot, so Glassfeather waits patiently.
"..Can you tell us a story..?" She asks politely, the hero smiles. He sinks onto the ground, spreading his wings onto the ground for the child to sit down on.
The story starts with a white dove, and a raven. They were the very best of friends, despite their differences — the dove was revered, and loved by all. But the raven.. not so much — it was gossiped upon, and talked down to.
The dove, however, didn't take kindly to its friend getting bullied — and pecked at those who tried to talk negatively about the raven. The raven greatly appreciated its friend, but did not want the dove to do do such things for it, for the dove might get hurt trying to protect the raven.
So, the raven became more cunning — it learned when the dove would perch on their usual hangout spot, and started to avoid the dove.
The dove noticed immediately, but could not unsterstand why.
It waited, and waited, and waited — staying where the raven had left it.
Eventually, the raven felt guilt creeping into its little body. So, one day — the raven returned to their little meetup spot.
"Raven! You came back!" The dove had chirped, happy to see its friend again. "I thought you didn't want to be my friend anymore, so you left.."
The raven stared, before replying. "But you're right. I don't want to be your friend anymore." It had tweeted, watching the doves expression carefully. "I give you too much trouble, I don't want that." It twittered carefully, stepping closer to the dove, who stayed frozen in its spot.
"..But, I still want to be your friend!" The dove warbled, distressed and confused. "I don't care that you're trouble, I just want to be your friend.."
"But I care." The raven replied. "I care about you too much to keep being your friend and risking getting you injured because of me."
"..Then what happens to us after this? Do I just.. stop waiting for you?"
"Yes."
The dove stared. Before settling on the wire they stood upon. "..Are we ever going to see each other after this?"
The raven smiled.
And the raven said, "Never again."
The version Glassfeather had given the children was a less sophisticated version, simplified so they could understand it a little better than him using bigger words to make it sound better. But the premise stayed true to itself.
"That ending was so sad..!" One of the children sitting on his wings said — more of them had collected when he started to tell the story — a small pout displayed on his face, cheeks puffing out in confused frustration. The hero pats his head. "I know,"
"Why did the raven have to go..? Couldn't they just fight the bullies together?" The little girl who approached him first asked. Glassfeather hums thoughtfully, patient and gentle.
"Because if the raven stayed, they both would've gotten more hurt." He explains, as plainly and simply as he could — he doesn't want to coddle the children, but he doesn't want the lesson of the story to slip.
"Oh.." she hummed thoughtfully, and another child piped up, raising her hand. "Why couldn't they have stayed friends?"
Something twists in the heroes heart at that question.
"..Because sometimes, things are better off letting go, because it hurts less than holding onto it."
A bit of a deeper lesson, but he hopes it would stick when they get older. Hopefully, when they get older.
The kids asked more questions, asked for more stories, asked questions again. They were curious and intelligent for their ages, the hero thought. Not that it was a bad thing, in fact, it was good — it was just.. melancholic, to think that some of the children wanted to learn so much about the world beyond the sterile walls of the hospital.
"Had fun?" Arrcrow asks as they walk around the halls of the hospital, sporting a few colorful, beaded accessories from the kids. Glassfeather had gotten quite a lot too — some of them sitting in a small paper bag because some of them were too small.. in his hero form, anyway.
"Mhm," the taller man hums, a soft smile on his face. They reached the reception area after a bit, where the nurse at the reception desk greets them.
"Glassfeather, Arrcrow — hello, and thank you." She greets, a smile on her face. "Hello, miss." Glassfeather greets back — he wasn't just here to visit the children, he was here to pick up a few things for himself. For his civilian self, to be specific. He just requested it under his hero name for convenience — he felt bad about it, but.. yeah, no, he doesn't really have an excuse.
"Here are.. the medications you requested," the nurse says, setting a paper bag onto the marble top of the desk for him. "Thank you," the hero thanks softly. The nurse simply shakes her head, "No, thank you, those kids really needed the serotonin boost.." she sighs fondly.
The hero simply hums, a quiet washing over them as he turned to see Arrcrow entertaining the children who ran to him — asking questions and demanding uppies. It was a nice sight.
The vending machine rattles nearby, making both him and the nurse turn their head.
His breath catches in his throat.
"Wemmbu, are you supposed to be out?" The nurse asked, tone amused and casual. The black haired man straightens up from where he crouched down to grab the granola bar — dressed in loose, hospital-issued clothing, and black socks.
Wemmbu turns slightly, briefly catching Glassfeathers eye with his own before turning to the nurse, already walking towards the registrar.
"Mhm, Minute gave me free roam for a bit," he replies casually, opening the granola bar after checking the ingredients. "He also requests for his usual coffee. Egg, too."
The nurse smiles, already turning around. "I'm guessing that you also need the usual snacks alongside it?" Wemmbu hums at the question. "Add another one, if you can, Egg wants to try it." The nurse makes a sound of affirmation, before disappearing to create Wemmbus request. Or.. maybe whoever Minute and Eggs requests, instead of his.
..The hero and the civilian are alone, again. Not in Wemmbus warm, cozy home — in a cold, and big hospital.
Glassfeather has to go, he has things to do.
But he's both concerned, and curious.
He glances down at Wemmbu, who was idly chewing on his granola bar. Glassfeather opens his mouth to say something first — but Wemmbu beats him to it.
"You're shorter than usual." He notes casually, voice quieter, just in case anyone was listening. Glassfeather pauses, before reaching up to turn off the listening device behind his neck. "I'm surprised you noticed right away.." the hero muses.
"Yeah, well.." Wemmbu starts, swallowing the granola bar bits he was chewing. "I spent five days monitoring you, so.." Glassfeather chuckled lightly, glancing towards Arrcrow, who was now sat down on the ground, letting the children play with his accessories and wings.
"..Why are you h—"
"Here you are, Wemms," the nurse chimes, coming back with two coffee cups, and a small paper bag. "Do you need help carrying them, or are you okay on your own?"
"I'll be fine, thank you." Wemmbu hums thoughtfully, pocketing the granola bar, before grabbing both of of the coffee cups. He pauses on the paper bag, cogs spinning in his head, before the cogs said; fuck it, and he leans down to catch the folded top of the paper bag between his teeth.
He struggles to adjust with the added weight for a moment, but eventually manages to be able to carry them as comfortably as he could. He lets out an incomprehensible, muffled "thank you" to the nurse, before walking away with his newly acquired items.
Glassfeather watches him go away, his question left into the wind.. unless he decides to ask anyone who isn't Wemmbu.
He had always been too curious for his own sake.
"..What is he in here for? If it's okay for me to ask that.." He asks impulsively, once he deemed Wemmbu to be far enough, out of earshot. The nurse gives him a melancholic smile, shaking her head.
"We aren't allowed to disclose that information, I'm sorry." She says quietly, the hero sighs, but shakes his head, understanding. "It's fine, I understand."
He didn't really know what to say after that, so he simply thanks the nurse one last time, before joining Arrcrow — greeting the kids who squealed in delight when they saw him.
They left the hospital after a few minutes, Arrcrow carrying little gifts he got from the kids, chatting with his fellow hero, who simply listened.
One hero left feeling better than he had for the past month.
The other, with dwindling confidence in holding his curiosity back.
It's selfish.
He knows that, but he can't help it.
Requesting access to medical histories for his own, selfish curiosity — it's wrong, it's so wrong.
But he wants to help.
A flimsy excuse, he knows — he doesn't want to justify his actions because he knows how absolutely wrong, and stupid this is. But he can't think of anything else.
"Wemmbu Mirari" the folder titled, the edges of the yellowish paper was creased and slightly dirtied in some places. The papers stacked a good centimeter or two thick in the folder, the elastic holding it together straining slightly. But it all looked organized, the papers — from what he could see — looked like they were barely handled.
With slightly shaky hands, his fingers hook underneath the black elastic holding back all of the information he yearned to see.
"What are you doing."