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Grian couldn’t use his wings.
Everything hurt. Breathing hurt. Turning his head hurt. Moving his wings hurt. Doing anything hurt. Doing nothing hurt, too. Sharp spines dug into his body, and he gritted his teeth. Sucked in a whimpering breath. Closed his eyes.
No. No, no, please. No. There was some movement nearby. Mouth falling open, Grian screamed. Tried to claw over. His breath hitched in his throat. His wings flared out. Teeth bared, he whipped around as the noise grew closer.
Red eyes held his for a second, burning against gray skin. In a moment, they flashed to soft blue and fair skin. Blond hair flashed in the sunlight. No. No, this isn’t happening. Please. Throwing his head back, Grian tore himself free. Stumbled back. Pain lashed through his blood. Ignoring it, Grian fanned his wings out and snapped them forwards. Felt the razor spines along the outer ridges split his skin and slam into the person coming too close. They were too close. Too close, too close, he needed to get them away from him he had to he couldn’t let them get him not again not again .
The ground shot away underneath him. Then, it rushed up to meet him. He slammed into it. Rolling across the dirt, Grian let out a pained noise. Then, he pushed himself up. Turned to look at the approaching red lifer. Gritting his teeth, he shoved his legs under him. Stumbling back, he raised his hands. Closed his fingers into fists. One of his knees buckled.
Someone sprang forward and grabbed onto his wrists. Screaming, Grian thrashed around. Tried to fight back. Lunging forwards, he slammed his head against their nose. Then, he turned and slammed his elbow into their throat. They stumbled away, and he tried flying off. His wings cut through the air once, twice. Then, he crashed into the earth again. Rocks scattered around him. He screamed again. Forced himself up again. The trap was wrapped around his wings and arms. Struggling, Grian kicked weakly at the person, who had stepped back. His knee gave out. Dropping, Grian fell against the ground. Struggled again.
They got close again. Kicking off his boots, Grian pulled his legs back and then slammed them forwards. His claws lashed against their arm, but they didn’t move. Blood spilled over the ground. Arms trapped against his chest, Grian wheeled onto his hip when they moved around. Snapped his leg out into another kick, thrashed again.
Blood spilled across the earth, not just his attacker’s and not just his own. Swallowing, Grian kicked his heels into the ground. Pushed back against the dirt. Forced himself to move. Mouth open, he gasped several times. Yelled pleas and begged for them not to hurt him without really thinking about it. Calloused hands landed on his shoulders. Grian let out a long, loud scream. Pressed himself into the ground. Jolting, he felt rocks cutting into his cheek and the temple. The hands landed on his back by his wings.
Freezing, Grian went stock-still. Quick, panicked chirps left him. There were flutters all around him as other birds fled the area. He didn’t even breathe properly, just kept calling. Fingers found his hair. Tore at the strands—no, wait, they were gently brushing through his hair.
“Ssh, ssh. It’s alright.” A familiar voice, one that hadn’t been There, whispered. He kept being touched gently, calloused fingers finding the bindings at his shoulders and arms and gently pulling them away. Panting, Grian laid there, frozen. Stared across the clearing at the long grass where the treeline began. Upturned dirt scattered around the area. Feathers were scattered with them.
Someone leaned down and gently kissed his temple. Then, they lifted him. Gently moved him so that he was away from the carnage he’d made of the clearing. Then, they laid beside him in the grass. Turned so that he was facing them. There were bloody scratches on their arm and down their face, but they just kept looking at him calmly. Purple-blue eyes held his, and Grian slowly slumped into the grass. Squeezed his eyes shut. A sob tore its way through his scream-sore throat.
“Can I touch you?” Zedaph asked softly. Nodding, Grian reached for him with blood-streaked arms. Shuffling over, Zedaph pulled him close and took a deep breath. Grian inhaled as well with him, felt the pressure from Zedaph inhaling evenly. “There’s no red names here, Grian. You’re safe. Everyone is safe.” He whispered, brushing his hands over Grian’s cheeks. Swallowing, Grian nodded. Squeezed his eyes shut. “We’re all fine, we’re all friends here. You don’t need to be afraid. We can take care of you. That okay?” Grian nodded again. Sucked in an uneven breath. “Okay, okay. We can take care of this right now, take all the time you need. Then when you’re ready we can get back home, alright? We can treat all this stuff.” Grian nodded again.
+++
Eventually, Grian was okay enough to move.
Zedaph, being Zedaph and a stocky son of a truck, just casually scooped him up and then gave him a piggyback ride to the house. Settled him down on the bed. Snuggling into the blankets, Grian looked up at him. Sniffed loudly. Looked at Zedaph as he threw himself down on the blankets next to Grian. Smiling, he rolled over. Propped himself up with his chin in his palm. “Do you want to cuddle or do you want me to chat with you?”
“I don’t know.” Wrapping the blankets around himself, Grian hummed softly. Closed his eyes. Zedaph settled down. Pulled the blankets around Grian just a little bit more. “Mm, thanks.”
“Mhmm.” Zedaph settled down into the bed a little more. Opening his eyes, Grian scooted over a little bit. Zedaph flopped onto his back. Let Grian lay his head on his shoulder. “Get comfortable. Want a Hermit pile?” Grian nodded into his shoulder. Laughing softly, Zedaph mused, “Alright. Let’s call the Hermits.”
Within about five minutes, there was a Hermit pile. It wasn’t the most spread out. All of them were stacked on top of Grian’s bed, which was decently sized, in a big old pile of limbs and blankets and just…warmth. Grian was smooshed at the bottom in the good way, because the Hermits were just cats sometimes. The less touchy of them were on the floor. TFC was snoozing away in a recliner he had brought, leg stretched out in front of him as he snored. Keralis and Xisuma were signing to one another, being the “on watch” Hermits for the moment. Pearl was next to Grian, lying on him with an arm and a wing thrown over his chest.
Ren was rumbling like he normally did when happy, occasionally barking and twitching as he slept curled up at the foot of the bed. There were blankets everywhere. Grian’s injuries had been treated, obviously. Still, he could barely even feel the bandages, or whatever pain he was probably supposed to be feeling from having Gem and Tango on each of his wings. Still, he didn’t care. Just hummed and curled up a little more.
They’d have to have a conversation about the trap later—considering no one had apologized and Zedaph had explained, it wasn’t a prank one—but for now, Grian was content where he was.