Chapter Text
Osyka couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten this drunk. In fact, she couldn’t remember much of anything at the moment. The ground had never felt more comfortable, despite the unusual sensation of something sharp poking her. She rolled her head over. On her left was a small black feather, almost close enough to tickle her nose. Her feeble attempts to grasp it with shaky fingers ended in giggles. She watched the feather shift on its own, as if caught in a breeze.
“Huh.... preeeeeetty drafty in here...” she mumbled to herself.
“Osyka, what the hell?” came a voice from above.
She blinked, once, twice, and slowly arched her head back to see an upside down Ernest, or maybe 3 of him, in her blurred vision.
“Awwww shittttt, sorry Ern-hic-Ernest. ‘m jusst...... floor... comfy,” she slurred.
“.... Those glass baubles you’re lying on don’t look comfortable,” he said, pointedly.
“oH! d’youuuu like it? I stole ‘em...... riiiiiightoff th’, th’ roof of that one dick barkeep..... who wouldn’ lemme keep drinkin’...... but I jus’, stole drinks when he wasn’ lookin’.... thennnn I stole th’ chand’lier when he’s EXtra busy stoppin’ a fight... stupidickhead-“
“Alright alright, I’ve heard enough... C’mon let’s get you into bed, birdbrain,” he sighed in exasperation as he moved to pick her up. He was met with a startling amount of resistance and a drawn out “Noooo” as she tucked herself into a fetal position.
“C’mon, don’t make this difficult kid, you’re already gonna feel like shit in the morning, and I’m not about to let you accidentally stab yourself in the night.”
At that she rolled onto her side, then slowly lifted herself onto quaking hands and knees. She began to crawl to the bed, seemingly in defeat.
Any relief Ernest may have felt in that moment was dashed when Osyka’s true trajectory became clear.
“What’re you- you can’t sleep under the bed either!”
“I gOtta.... th’ll find me if I sleep -hic- up there,” came a muffled reply from beneath the bed.
“The barkeep? He won’t look for you here, I’ll make sure of that.”
“He can’ see me like this... ‘m jus’ like ‘im.... fuckin’ drunk idjit,” came a muffled reply.
Concern growing, he pressed further. “The only one who’s gonna see you like this is me, evidently, so you can come out.”
At this point, only her feet were visible.
“ ‘s ok, y’re a goood guy Ern’st, ‘m jus’ pushin’ th’ garb’ge under th’ bed so y’don’ have to see it.”
“Who says you’re garbage? I don’t think that about you at all, don’t put words in my mouth.”
“.... he thinks ‘m garbage... tha’s why he jus’..... said ‘Go away, ‘n neverr... never c’me back.’
B’cause. ‘m garbage. Jus’ like him.”
Silence filled the air for a minute.
“Is that what brought this on? Were you thinking about Mariu-“
“SHHHHHHHHHHHHH.... don’... don’ say his name. He’ll hear you.”
“Fine. Either way, drinking this much isn’t gonna fix whatever’s messed up there... You know if it’s bothering you, you should tell someone right? Bottled up emotions are part of what’s making all the shifting stuff so hard for you.”
“.... yeah, y’re right...... I needa drink more, iss not ‘nough toforget ‘im yet,” she concluded, crawling slowly out from beneath the bed on the opposite side.
Before she could even begin thinking about how to stand up again, she felt a pair of arms underneath her. She yelped at the sudden upward motion, but her flight from the floor was short lived as she hit the mattress.
Just as she started to protest, the man held a finger to her lips.
“No, hear me out. The barkeep’s not gonna give you anymore drinks, and you’re in no condition to be stealing more. But I can be your in, I can get you something. You just have to promise me you’ll stay in bed while I go do that. Can you promise me you’ll stay?”
After a good moment of deliberation, Osyka nodded slowly. The bed was pretty comfortable.
“Good. I’ll be back soon.”
And soon he did return, glass of water in hand. Upon entering the room again, he was met with a softly snoring girl, half tucked under a blanket, little beads and glass ornaments tangled in her hair. He shook his head and chuckled as he set the glass down on the nightstand. Another blanket wasn’t too hard to find, and he laid it over her before he left her to sleep.
—————————
Osyka couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this hungover. In fact, she couldn’t remember much of anything at the moment. But with the rising sun peaking in over the windowsill, bits and pieces of the night before came back. She groaned and rolled over. The decisions she’d made the previous night were writhing in her stomach and making her head spin. Her eyes fluttered shut once more, only to blink and open wide in shock. Strewn across the floor she could see parts of what was once a very elegant chandelier.
“Well well, she lives,” a familiar voice began. “You gonna be sick, or are you good?”
She considered this for a moment, and met the eyes of her mentor, leaning on the doorframe.
“...Dunno... Gods, Ernest what happened last night?”
He barked out a laugh at that.
“Don’t worry, the most stupid thing you did is on the floor,” he explained, gesturing to the shattered fixture.
“That’s... really it? Guess it coulda been worse,” she decided.
“Well-“
“What? What did I do? How many people did I flirt with?”
“Osyka, do you remember why you were drinking?”
A shocked expression on her paling face was her only response, eyes no longer meeting his.
“Nevermind, I think I am gonna be sick.”
After she’d purged the remnants of her bad decisions into a nearby bucket, she soberly sipped on the glass of water on the nightstand. The man stepped closer, gesturing to an empty spot on the bed, and with an affirmative nod from her, sat by her side.
Clearing his throat, Ernest resumed, “You still didn’t answer my question, lyrebird. Do you remember?”
She shoved him weakly in response. “You know I hate that nickname,” she whined. “But.... yeah, I do... that’s pretty much it though.... ugh....”
“I don’t have to tell you drinking isn’t a healthy coping mechanism, right?”
“........ I knowww.”
“Would you say it was worth it?”
“I guess not.”
He placed a hand on her shoulder before continuing, “So, what do you plan on doing next time you feel like that?”
She looked down at her hands, a grimace on her face.
“I don’t..... gods Ernest, I don’t know. Sometimes....” she trailed off, tears welling up in her eyes.
Tentatively he reached up to brush a tear from her cheek. She pushed his hand down before he could touch her face, but she took it into her own between them. He gave her a hand a gentle squeeze.
“Osyka, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But I’ll listen if you do. I’m here for you.”
The tears fell harder, and her shoulders shook with sobs.
Eventually, in a barely audible whisper she croaked, “Sometimes I feel like the only thing I could do to get away from him is to just... stop living.”
Immediately after she confessed that, she felt his arms wrap around her as he pulled her into a tight hug.
“No, no no no. I care about you. I want to fly with you and sing with you and smile with you. And I want you to want that too. I know you’re still afraid of what he’s done, but in reality he can’t take away your freedom anymore. He can’t hurt you, unless you let him.”
He pulled away from her, leaving both hands on her shoulders, looking her dead in the eyes.
“You are better than him, and the only person you need to prove that to is yourself, until you really believe it.”
She sniffled a bit, her watery eyes blinking up at him.
“Did you really mean all that?”
“More than you’ll probably ever believe.”
She leaned slowly toward him, arms finding their way around his torso, and wept into his shoulder until her fears receded.
Osyka couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this safe and at home in another person’s arms.