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"Dref, I did an oopsie on my wing and I need help!" Travis loudly announced as he entered Dref's small space on the Uhuru that he used to treat the crew.
In other instances, Travis would've been more careful while talking in his animal form — even if he wasn't known to being careful about anything —, but he knew that the young doctor was alone there, writing and reading as the ship traveled through the clouds, ignoring his need to sleep that always made Travis wonder if Dref didn't have any kind of secret power of his own to stay up on such an unholy hour and still be productive as if the dark circles under his eyes weren't growing by the second. There wasn't another soul in that part of the ship except for the sleep deprived man and the screaming raven that pushed the door open with his claw and walked quickly inside the room, pitch black eyes scanning everything that he could see.
To Travis' surprise, Dref wasn't there. The lamps were all on, oil burning out in the flames, and there were a few papers scattered across the desk together with a mug of a hot beverage that was still steaming, showing that the doctor had been there recently, but there was no sight of Dref inside the small room that smelled like alcohol and dried blood.
Travis looked at his wing again after noticing the absence of his friend, shaking it slightly to test how much it hurt, wincing with the pain that crossed his muscles as he did so. It wasn't an unbearable pain, he still could move fairly easily if he didn't force the hurt wing too much, and he knew that the pain would be gone in the morning after he turned back to his human form, but it was very annoying to say the least. Plus, it made him make too much noise while flying thanks to constant 'ouches' and loud cuss words that came out of his beak as he moved around the ship. Even Slam had wondered about it when Travis had done his nightly chore of telling the other man to do his chores for him as an advice, to which Travis had responded with a snarky remark on how Slam should take care of his business and leave the poor raven alone if he wanted Travis to keep giving him advice — which mostly consisted on making the man wash his clothes and make him food.
He could either let it go and endure the pain for the rest of the night or wait for Dref to come back, and he considered deeply just dealing with the pain so he wouldn't have to wait there without anything to do while he did so, when he noticed that there was a journal on top of the desk, wide open and with fresh ink staining the paper. It was said that curiosity killed the cat, but thankfully Travis was a bird, because he immediately ignored the pain and flapped his wings to get on top of the desk — letting out a few ouches on his way up but too lazy to just try and climb without flying — when he noticed that the leather of the journal's cover seemed more expensive and old than the other books filling the few shelves on Dref's space.
He noticed a few things about the journal when he got close to it, the first one being the extra pages stitched to the original binding, as if its pages had long ran out but it was still being used — either for convenience of not getting a new one or for emotional attachment. It seemed so big now that there was a small string of fabric sewed into the leather that probably was used to keep it closed when it needed to stay that way, the many extra pages probably stopping it from closing normally. Another thing that he noticed about the journal was how old it really was up close, the leather slightly stained and used from what he thought was constant handling for years. The last thing he noticed is that its notes seemed to be both personal and professional. The pages that were open had a few writings about some medical bullshit that Travis truly wasn't interested in, but, after testing if the ink was dry enough, he could see more personal entries in other pages as he used his claw to go through them.
A few were more recent, and Travis even found an entry about their attack on the Civility on Dref's point of view — of course he had omitted the puking that had occurred, and Travis wished that he had his hands to add that part to Dref's notes —, but as he went back to the pages that were originally from the journal, its contents started to get different from what Travis expected from Dref. As his curiosity grew, he moved the journal to see its very first page, fighting against the object as he tried his best to do this task in his bird form, and soon he was staring at a single line of writing, still in Dref's handwriting but somehow looking off-putting.
This journal belongs to
A.Y.
Travis stopped for a minute, looking at the initials there and trying to understand what A.Y. meant. Those weren't Dref's initials, and yet that was Dref's handwriting. A different name, Travis' mind told him, the only logical explanation he could find, and Travis felt a shiver run down his body at the thought that he and Gable weren't the only ones that had to change their own names with time.
Moved still by his curiosity, he turned the first page, seeing a date on the top of the page. It was recent, from three years ago, before Dref was even part of the Uhuru crew, which gave Travis the hope that they weren't dealing with another immortal in their group of friends and Dref was just a spooky looking mortal guy and nothing else. He didn't take the time to read properly, only looking for whatever could interest him, and he noticed that the very first entry was a personal one about what Travis supposed were Dref's brothers and sister. He didn't manage to get much more information than that, the journal closing suddenly and violently in front of him as he read a name — Olivia —, making him squawk with the surprise and see Dref's eyes looking down at him with annoyance and some kind of fear in them.
"Wh-what were you duh-doing?" the doctor asked, voice more harsh than normally.
"Waiting for you." Travis tried to say, but it came out too much like a question for his liking, still nervous for being caught on the act. "I had nothing to do and saw the book open and thought that maybe I could exercise my reading!"
"Th-this is nn-not a book for you to peruse, Travis."
"Yeah, well," Travis moved out of the way as Dref started picking up papers and the journal from the desk with no care for the raven that was still standing there. "It was open and my bird eyes happened to see it. You know how bird eyes are, we see a lot of things."
"What do yuh-you want?"
Travis closed his beak at the doctor's reaction. As much as he was used to seeing Dref reprimand him — or anyone reprimand him —, there was something different about the way Dref was acting at that moment. His body was stiffer than normal, jaw clenched and his eyes seemed to avoid Travis' as if he was scared of something. It didn't take long for Travis to figure out of what the doctor seemed scared of: his past. Whatever that journal contained, it was a window to a past he had left behind the moment that he came to he Uhuru, and Travis could understand it well. As much as Travis would like to press Dref for answers, curious little bird that he was, he knew that he would get nothing out of the man at that moment. Besides, angering the doctor would mean not getting his wing healed.
With that, Travis only raised his wounded wing, a soft ouch leaving his beak again as he did so, and jumped slightly to get closer to Dref again.
"Hurt my wingie." he said, attempting anything that could take Dref's annoyance away from the fact that Travis had just read parts of his journal.
The doctor finally looked at Travis, looking at said wing for a moment before sighing and sitting down at his chair, putting the journal away on top of the table but far from Travis before moving his hands to hold Travis' wing carefully.
"Duh-doesn't it heal in the morning?" there was something careful about the way Dref was talking, as if he was hesitant of saying anything at all to Travis, but it seemed more like Dref's normal demeanor now, and Travis could work with that.
"Yes, but then I won't be able to fly until dawn and it's only midnight. I have bird stuff to do!"
"Of course yuh-you do." the doctor sounded almost dismissive as he moved the wing around, testing it and making Travis hold back the urge to peck at Dref's hands to stop Dref from causing him so much pain. He only took it, thinking it was fair since he had breached Dref's privacy. "I cuh-can heal it easily with mm-magic if you want me to."
"That's exactly why I'm here."
As Dref healed his wing, Travis only stared at the doctor, checking his emotional state to make sure that he had successfully made Dref not as annoyed as before, sometimes sparing a few glances at the journal that was in an weird position since the fabric that was supposed to keep it closed weren't tied around it. He couldn't lie that he wanted to find more about Dref, maybe figure out his real name and why he changed it — he liked finding other people's secrets after all — but maybe it was better asking straight from the source. And by asking, Travis meant bothering Dref enough until he gave up and told him, just like he had done with Gable centuries ago.
He noticed Dref's hands leaving his wing, moving it to test it and feeling it normal as the doctor looked down at him with his eyebrows raised as if he was waiting for a thank you. Travis didn't say anything for a while, only staring back at Dref until he sighed and shook his head, getting the journal and closing it carefully this time, tying the fabric around the worn out leather.
"A.Y." Travis said simply, making Dref's movements stutter for a moment before he tied the journal completely and set it aside on one of his drawers, face turning darker after the initials came out of Travis' beak. "What does it stand for?"
There was silence, the wind on the outside and the noise of Travis' talons on the hard wood of Dref's desk being the only noises around as the doctor once again didn't look at Travis. He thought that Dref wouldn't answer him, preparing himself to get out of the room and trying to get an answer tomorrow, when suddenly Dref's voice spoke again.
"A nuh-name that doesn't belong tt-to me anymore."
Travis took a few steps back then with Dref's answer, the doctor's voice sounding more somber than he expected. It was a fair answer, one that Travis could relate to, and he decided that maybe that wasn't the time to press Dref about it after all. He just nodded, opening his wings to fly away and go back to his nightly duties of bothering the crew that was still awake, stopping for a moment before going and looking back at Dref.
They stared at each other for a moment, Travis knowing now that the doctor had some kind of secret about who he was, and wondering why he had left that person, that name, behind. He wondered if it had something to do with Dref's siblings — he knew what it was like to have a complicated family, even if he didn't like to think much about it — and felt his curiosity rising again, but the way that Dref's eyes were shining at him told Travis that he wouldn't get his answers if he pressed. But Travis could be patient when he wanted to, and maybe his patience would pay off.
When he flew away from his friend that night, he had no idea that he would get his answers soon when they docked at Burza Nyth. And he had no idea of the price that those answers would cost.