Chapter Text
If there was one thing Parrot had learned over the years, it was that people were surprisingly good at misunderstanding each other. Sometimes it happened because nobody listened. Other times it happened because nobody spoke. Most of the time, it was a mix of both. Looking back, Parrot would later realize that nearly every problem he had that autumn could be traced back to a conversation that never happened.
...
The sound of a car pulling into the garage was the first thing Parrot heard when he woke up. It didn't take a genius to figure out that his parents had finally returned home.
For a moment, he remained buried beneath the blankets, staring up at the ceiling while muffled voices drifted from downstairs. Suitcases rolled across the floor, doors opened and closed, and the familiar sounds of his parents settling back into a quiet house echoed through the morning. It had been weeks since he'd last seen them in person. Normally, Parrot would've gotten up immediately to greet them. Today, however, he simply lay there for another minute, gathering enough energy to drag himself out of bed.
Parrot could hear the faint thud of steps walking up the stairs before it was followed with a soft knock on his bedroom door.
"Sweetheart? We're home now, can you open this door?" The voice behind the door was familiar, sweet and soothing, something that belonged to his mother.
Parrot took a few moments to shake off the sleepiness from his eyes and greet his mother. He sat himself upright before moving away from his bed to open the door across him.
When the avian opened the door, he was immediately met with a pair of warm hands cupping his face. The sickeningly sweet scent of perfume lingered in the air, familiar and almost overwhelming after weeks of absence.
"Oh my sweet boy, I missed you so much!" Parrot's mom gushed, tightening her hug for a moment longer before letting go.
Parrot's shoulders stiffened—obviously caught off guard by the gesture, though his mother didn't seem to notice it.
"Missed you too, mom..." he mumbled, shifting his legs from side to side.
"So, how was school? I'm sorry we left unannounced, dear," Parrot's mom said dejectedly
"It's fine mom, school is okay." Parrot replied, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Just okay?"
Parrot shrugged "Yeah, it was okay,"
The conversation ended almost as quickly as it began. For a moment, neither of them spoke, both seemingly unsure of what to say next.
Parrot shifted awkwardly in place, his gaze drifting toward the suitcases resting by the door. He wanted to say something. Ask about the trip, maybe. Tell her about school. Anything, really.
Instead, the words remained stuck in his throat.
The silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable. If anything, it felt familiar.
Communication had never been Parrot's strongest skill. Most of his childhood before middle school had been spent in hospital rooms, moving between doctor's appointments. Somewhere along the way, he'd grown accustomed to keeping things to himself. It felt easier that way.
Unfortunately, old habits were difficult to break.
"Well..." His mother cleared her throat and offered him another smile. "Your father brought souvenirs back from the trip."
Parrot perked up slightly.
At least that was a conversation he knew how to have.
"Is he downstairs?" Parrot inquired eagerly, though his tone still sounded hesitant
"He's in the foyer unpacking his things," his mother replied.
Parrot nodded and headed toward the foyer.
His father was kneeling beside a half-unpacked suitcase, his phone wedged between his shoulder and ear as he spoke to someone on the other end of the line.
Parrot hesitated for a moment until the call ended with a beep.
"Hi, Dad,"
"Oh, hey there, kiddo." His father glanced up from the half-unpacked suitcase.
For a brief moment, Parrot brightened.
"I brought you some trinkets, Parrot." His father smiled and gestured toward one of the bags. "There's something in there for you."
Parrot's shoulders sank ever so slightly.
Of course.
It was always souvenirs.
He wasn't ungrateful. Really.
But for a second, he'd thought his father wanted to talk. Though by now, he should expect every conversation to end strained and awkward.
...
By the time lunch rolled around, the house settled back into suffocating silence besides the clink and clatter of porcelain against utensils.
"So, have you been taking your medication?" Parrot's mother suddenly spoke up.
He lifted his head and muttered "Yes. But I'm about to run out.."
Then, another question came.
"Did you schedule your follow-up?" His father asked.
The avian nodded his head, though his eyes were more focused on his meal.
After that, silence settled between them once more. His parents seemed satisfied with his answers. As far as they were concerned, there was nothing else left to ask unless it involved his condition.
Parrot had grown used to the routine by now. The same questions, same answers. The same concerned expressions every time they returned from a trip. It wasn't that he disliked their concern. He knew they meant well.
Still, a small part of him had hoped they would ask about something else.
School, maybe.
His friends.
The new medals in his room, perhaps.
Anything other than how he felt. Every conversation always circles back to his health.
....
2:08 P.M
Parrot had already spent most of the day doing nothing productive. He was absolutely bored out of his mind. The world around Parrot felt so stifling, leading to his usually composed routine to suddenly feel unbalanced.
It's a tiresome way to live. And Parrot was exhausted. Mentally and Physically.
He stared at the ceiling for a few moments before rolling onto his side with a quiet groan.
He was bored.
Not the kind of boredom that could be solved by picking up a book or turning on the television. It was the sort of bored that settled deep and made every hour feel twice as long.
With a sigh, he reached for his phone resting on the nightstand.
No new notifications.
Well, except one.
Wifies: u alive bro
Parrot snorted.
Parrot: unfortunately
The response came almost immediately.
Wifies: tragic
Wifies: anyway look outside
Parrot frowned before pushing himself upright and pulling back the curtains.
Sure enough, Wifies was standing near the of the driveway, hands shoved into his pockets as the autumn wind messed up his hair. The moment he spotted Parrot at the window, he waved both arms dramatically.
Before he could leave his room, however, a knock sounded from the door.
"Come in."
The door opened to reveal his father.
"Hey, kiddo."
Parrot straightened slightly. "Hey, Dad."
His father stepped inside, briefly scanning the room before his gaze settled on Parrot.
"You feeling alright?"
The question wasn't unusual. In fact, it was probably the most common thing his parents ever asked him.
Still.
"Yeah," Parrot replied automatically.
His father nodded thoughtfully. "You still look tired."
"I just woke up."
"You should probably get some more rest later."
Parrot looked away.
The conversation felt strangely familiar. Almost rehearsed. His father wasn't trying to be rude. Parrot knew that. But somehow every discussion eventually circled back to the same topic.
"You've been taking your pills?"
"Yep," Parrot answered, struggling to sound interested.
"Any headaches lately?"
"A few."
His father's expression tightened immediately.
"Did you tell your doctor?"
Parrot rubbed the back of his neck and resisted the urge to groan.
"They're not that bad."
"That wasn't my question."
The avian winced slightly.
"...Not yet."
"You should mention it during your next appointment," his father said, concerned about slipping into his voice.
"I will."
The answer sounded hollow even to Parrot's own ears.
....
Outside, Wifies was now throwing small pebbles at the mailbox to entertain himself.
Parrot watched through the window.
For a brief moment, he wondered if his father would ask where he planned on going. Maybe what he and Wifies were doing today.
Instead, he got a reprimand.
"Try not to overexert yourself."
Parrot's shoulders sank ever so slightly. Of course his father would say that.
"Okay."
His father seemed satisfied with that answer. The conversation ended there. A few seconds later, the door clicked shut.
Parrot stared at it before letting out a long sigh. He wasn't upset with his father. Not really. But sometimes it felt like every conversation started and ended with his condition.
As if nobody quite knew what to say to him once they ran out of questions about his health.
Once Parrot got down to see Wifies, he was meant with a grumbling boy, his tail swishing side to side from impatience.
"took you long enough to get down,"
Parrot chuckled, his camera bag swinging along his steps as he approached him.
"Awe, did you miss me, Wifies?" Parrot teased, poking fun at the boy in front of him.
Wifies huffed, though the small smile in his face didn't go unnoticed by Parrot.
"So, where are we going bro?" The avian asked, his time barely holding back his excitement.
Wifies shrugged his shoulders before answering nonchalantly, "Nowhere,"
Parrot stared at his best friend, absolutely bewildered by what he just said.
"What do you mean nowhere, bro?"
"I meant what I said."
Parrot rolled his eyes "nowhere is NOT a place, Wifies."
Then Parrot snorted.
"That's the dumbest thing you've ever said,"
Wifies pointed down the road.
"Then let's go find it."
Parrot laughed harder, unable to contain the giddiness rising in his chest. For the first time that day, the knot of frustration sitting in his chest loosened.
It was stupid. So completely stupid. But somehow he preferred this over sitting at home answering questions about headaches and medication.
Wifies started walking down the sidewalk without another explanation.
"Come on."
"You're not even gonna tell me the rest of the plan?"
"There is no rest of the plan."
"You're kidding."
"I'll figure it out on the way." Wifies declared, puffing his chest as he walked under the autumn sky.
Parrot groaned dramatically before following after him.
"One day your lack of planning is gonna get us stranded somewhere."
Wifies glanced over his shoulder.
"That's rich coming from the guy who got us on the wrong bus." Wifies mentioned, smirking at the hypocrisy of his best friend's statement.
"That happened one time." Parrot retorted, clearly a little embarrassed by what happened.
"It happened last week."
Parrot immediately pointed an accusing finger at him.
"Stop bringing that up."
Wifies laughed.
The sound carried easily through the cool autumn air as the two disappeared down the street.
...
The two began walking without any real direction in mind. Moving from one place to another, it made great scenery photos for the next pages of their scrapbook.
They passed the grocery store. Passed the bakery. Passed the small park they'd visited dozens of times before.
Neither of them seemed particularly concerned about where they were going.
For once, there wasn't a scrapbook page to fill. It didn't feel like an obligation to complete nor a chore to be done quickly.
They were just walking.
The autumn breeze rustled through the trees overhead while their shoes crunched against fallen leaves. The duo talked about everything and nothing at all. It hopped from one topic to another, neither of the two feeling bothered by the spontaneity of their conversations.
By the time the two decided to finally go back home, the sun was already setting and it was past Parrot's curfew.
"Did you have fun?" Parrot asked.
Wifies glanced at him before shrugging.
"We got lost, nearly got chased by a goose, and you almost fell out of a tree."
"So that's a yes?"
"It's a strong maybe." Wifies corrected
Parrot laughed.
"I'll put that in the scrapbook."
"Don't."
"I'm putting that in the scrapbook." Parrot repeated
"Parrot."
"Too little, too late, bro."
....
5:39 P.M
The walk back felt noticeably quieter than the walk there.
Not exactly silent, and it wasn't suffocating.
Just different in a way the two couldn't quite name.
The excitement that had carried them through the afternoon had long since faded, replaced by the pleasant exhaustion that came from spending hours wandering around without a plan.
Parrot carried his camera against his chest as the two followed the dirt path leading back toward town. The memory card was nearly full now.
They'd climbed trees they probably shouldn't have climbed.
Gotten chased away by a very angry goose. They had taken enough pictures to fill several scrapbook pages. Wifies had even fallen into a shallow ditch while trying to avoid a patch of flowers.
Twice, actually.
Parrot was absolutely keeping those photos. However, the problem was that the further they walked, the harder it became to ignore the ache spreading through his limbs. Even breathing felt more exhausting than usual.
He slowed down slightly when his legs started to numb. Then again, he was steps behind Wifies now.
A few steps ahead, Wifies finally noticed.
"You're walking slower."
Parrot immediately straightened.
"I'm fine, bro."
Wifies hummed, still not convinced.
The response should've ended there. Instead, something in his expression shifted.
Not concerned. Something else. Something Parrot couldn't quite place.
The rest of the walk passed in uncomfortable silence. Neither of them realized they were already heading straight toward an argument.
By the time Parrot returned home, the sun had already disappeared below the horizon. He and Wifies parted ways when they reached the bus stop, now he was walking home alone this time around.
His legs ached from walking for so long, his camera bag felt heavier than usual, and he could practically feel exhaustion settling into his bones. Still, it had been fun.
At least for him.
The thought lingered in his mind as he stepped through the front door.
Unfortunately, the moment he entered the foyer, he realized something was wrong.
His mother was already waiting there.
"Parrot." His mom called out, her voice more authoritative than usual.
The smile on his face immediately fell.
"...Hi, Mom."
Her expression tightened. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"
Parrot glanced toward the clock inside of the foyer.
Later than he expected.
"Oh."
"Oh?" his mother repeated. "That's all you have to say, young man?"
The avian shifted his weight on his feet awkwardly.
"I lost track of time." Parrot murmured unde this breath.
"You should've called."
"I forgot."
"You forgot?" His mother scoffed, the irritation written all over her face.
Parrot winced. The conversation wasn't heading anywhere good.
His mother took a slow breath, pinching the bridge of her nose.
"We've been worried sick for you, Parrot."
The words made something twist uncomfortably in Parrot's chest. Worry. He hated that word. He knew she was worried about him.
That was the problem—everyone was always worried.
Parrot tried to downplay it by pretending that nothing bad happened. "I'm fine."
"That's not the point."
"Then what is the point?"
His mother had gone silent at the question.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
"The point…" she said carefully, "...is that you disappeared for hours without telling anyone where you were."
"I was with Wifies."
"You still should've told us." She retorted.
Parrot looked away.
"I didn't think it'd be a big deal."
His mother's shoulders sagged. "Parrot, dear…you can't keep doing this."
The exhaustion from the day suddenly felt twice as heavy.
"Doing what?"
"Acting like nothing's wrong." The words slipped out before she could stop them.
Immediately, the room fell silent.
Parrot stared at her with confusion. His mother looked just as surprised by what she'd said.
"What does that mean?"
"It means you're not taking this seriously."
The avian laughed. A short, humorless sound. "Trust me, Mom. I know exactly what's wrong with me."
"Then why do you keep pushing yourself?"
"Because I'm tired of sitting around."
His mother's expression softened.
"Sweetheart—"
"No."
Parrot shook his head. "I'm fine for one afternoon and suddenly everyone acts like I ran a marathon."
"We just want you to be careful."
"I know." And he did know.
That was what made it so frustrating.
Because she wasn't angry at him. Far from it at least, because Parrot knew his mom was scared.
And Parrot was tired..
Tired of feeling like every decision he made had to be approved by someone else.
The silence stretched between them.
Finally, his mother spoke. "We're only trying to help."
"Yeah." Parrot swallowed as if something hard got caught in his throat.
Neither of them said anything after that.
Because neither of them knew how to explain what they actually meant.
…
9:57 P.M
That night, Parrot sat at his desk with the scrapbook open in front of him. He can't seem to get anything to piece together, his mind was stuck looping the argument over and over again.
Usually, filling a page came naturally. Maybe a stupid inside joke written in the margins. Something, anything at all.
Today should've been easy. There were plenty of photos from what they did. But somehow, Parrot had no clue what to do.
Parrot stared at it for several moments before reaching for his phone.
A notification sat waiting for him.
Wifies: u alive?
Parrot: unfortunately
A few seconds passed.
Wifies: your mom killed you bro?
Parrot: almost
Wifies: told you we'd get back late :/
Parrot frowned.
Parrot: not really helping bro
Wifies: huh?
Parrot: nothing
Wifies: if it's nothing then why bring it up?.
Parrot stared at the screen. He wasn't even sure why that annoyed him. Maybe because today had already been exhausting.
Wifies: that's not what I meant!!
Parrot: sureeee :P
The typing bubble appeared almost immediately.
Wifies: stop doing that.
Parrot: doing what??
Wifies: acting like everything is fine when it obviously isn't, of course.
Parrot stared at the message. For a moment, he considered putting the phone down and ignoring it altogether.
Instead, he typed back.
Parrot: you're making a big deal out of nothing bruhhh
Wifies: am I?
Wifies: because you've been tired all month
Wifies: and you keep spacing out
Wifies: and every time someone asks if you're okay you dodge the question
Parrot's grip tightened around his phone.
Parrot: maybe because everyone keeps asking the same questions over and over and over again!
Several seconds passed.
Wifies: because we're worried for you.
…
And somehow it irritated Parrot more than it should have.
Parrot: you sound just like my parents rn bro
The reply didn't come immediately this time. When it did, it was shorter than usual.
Wifies: wow.
Parrot immediately regretted sending it. Not enough to apologize for it, though.
Parrot: just forget it!
Wifies: no
Wifies: you always say that
Wifies: you never actually tell me what's wrong.
How was he supposed to explain the constant exhaustion? The headaches? The fear sitting quietly in the back of his mind?
So he settled for the easiest answer.
Parrot: nothing's wrong with me Wifies.
The typing bubble appeared.
Then disappeared.
Then appeared again.
Finally, one message arrived.
Wifies: okay.
Just okay.
A few minutes later, Wifies went offline.
Parrot stared at the empty chat before tossing his phone onto the bed. The scrapbook still sat open on his desk.
Blank.
For the first time in years, he closed it without adding a single photo. The soft thud echoed through the room.
Tomorrow, he told himself. He'd fill the page tomorrow. But somehow, that felt like a promise he wasn't going to keep.