Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The village didn’t seem unfriendly. It looked like a normal village, even if there were tall cobblestone walls surrounding the entire area, save for the fields of crops, which had sturdy fences instead. 

The guard at the watchtower next to the gate gazed down at the traveler below with a bored stare. The traveler waved up at him, looking unassuming, a short man with a massive backpack that looked like it was bursting at the seams. 

“Hello! I bring wares, not trouble.” 

The guard slowly straightened up from where he had been leaning against the railing of the tower, set his spear aside, and pulled down the huge lever for the gate mechanism. 

“Thank you!” The traveling salesman said as the wooden gate swung open with a groaning creak. 

He was greeted by the village elder on the other side of the gate. “We’re always welcome to peaceful travelers. But don’t try anything, we have many warriors trained to fight.” 

“I was wondering about that. Why would a village like yours need to be guarded?” 

The elder sighed. “There is a monster in the forest. We have to be prepared in case it decides to attack.” 

“But couldn’t you just slay it?”

“A word to the wise, just stay away from the forest. You seem too curious for your own good.” 

“If you say so. Now, do you have a marketplace?” 

The elder directed him to the village square, and the traveler got set up. His backpack contained many wares, which he spread out on a large blanket. He also had a sign that he put up, reading: “Grian’s handmade wares.” 

The traveler–Grian–settled in to wait for customers. 

The atmosphere in the village wasn’t tense, but the inhabitants did seem a bit wary of Grian. They just seemed tired, like something had been keeping them up at night. Grian kept up his cheery sales pitch, trying to cheer up his customers with his charming handmade items. 

It worked, to a degree. The children seemed to especially appreciate the toys he sold, though their parents hurried them away shortly after their purchases. 

By the time the sun was setting, Grian hadn’t sold as much as he’d expected, but he was eager to leave the village as soon as the next day dawned. With permission from the village elder, he pitched his tent in an empty spot next to the cobblestone wall. 

He curled up in his bedroll and tried to get some sleep. 

It was difficult, to say the least. If not for the constant patrol of guards walking along the wall above him in their clanking iron armor, then for the knowledge that a village wouldn’t be so paranoid unless there really was some sort of monster terrorizing them. 

Grian tossed and turned, slipping in and out of sleep fitfully. Around midnight, he was struck by a sudden fever. With a groan, he shoved away his blanket. In a half-asleep state, he dizzily fumbled around his tent, eventually finding his canteen. 

He downed half of it in one go, and poured the rest on his burning face. A headache was steadily building, stabbing at the backs of his eyeballs with a vengeance. Grian dug through his shulker boxes, searching for a healing potion that he could take for some relief. 

Eventually, he found one, choking down half of the sickly sweet potion. The healing effect swirled around him with a pinkish magic glow. For a few moments, the headache and fever faded. 

Then the healing effect abruptly stopped. Before Grian could even think about trying to drink the rest of the potion, his headache increased tenfold, feeling like it was splitting his head in half. He might have been screaming, not that he could hear it through the pain. 

A voice echoed through his brain, a booming sound that only increased the pain. You have been chosen, do not fight destiny.

With that last moment of awareness, Grian’s vision went dark as he passed out, utterly spent. 

When he woke up, it was to the sound of villagers screaming. 

“Monster! Monster! Get the guards!”

Monster? The monster in the woods! It must have broken in! He had to get up, he had to run and hide!

He quickly became aware that he was laying in his stomach, some sort of heavy weight pinning him down. Combined with his panic, it felt like it was suffocating him. Grian shifted, propping himself up on his elbows. The weight on his back stayed on top of him, and he gave a confused hum. 

Grian rolled his shoulders, part of his back prickling with pins and needles. He frowned, shifting again to try and relieve the overwhelming feeling of wrongness.. He pushed himself up into a kneeling position, only for the foreign sensations to increase. 

“Quick, in here! The winged beast has deceived its way inside our walls!” 

All at once, Grian’s tent was torn away by village guards, the elder right behind them. The guards immediately pointed their swords at Grian, who scrambled back. His hands scratched strangely against the ground. Frantically, he held them up in front of his face. 

Curved black claws, bird-like scales. His hands flew to his face next, desperate to know what else changed. His face was unchanged, but his outer ears were gone, replaced by twitching feathers. 

“Beast! Do not fight and we will end your life quickly.” 

Grian stumbled to his feet, which were now bird’s feet, his legs completely changed with the knees now bending in the wrong direction. Something dragged against the ground with a loud rustle, and that prickling sensation shot through him again. 

“I don’t–I–please–” Grian stammered, hands held up in surrender. 

The closest guard shoved his sword closer to Grian’s throat. Grian tried to lean away, but something stopped him. Something in his head clicked into place. 

His eyes narrowed, and a sound no human would be capable of making burst up from his chest. With a screech, he spread the two brand-new limbs attached to his back. 

The guard flinched back, and the village elder gasped. “It has the eyes of the void-creatures!” 

Grian twisted to glance at his wings for the first time. The feathers were pitch black, with twin purple eyespots in the center of each. There also happened to be a large, fan-like tail attached to him as well now. He turned back to the guards, a threatening clicking sound emanating from his throat. 

“What are you doing? Kill it now before it destroys us all!” The village elder shouted. 

Grian glanced between the guards, who seemed to have recovered their courage. There was no way he’d be getting through them. Making a split-second decision, he turned his back to them and leapt to sink his new claws into the cobblestone wall. With the claws on his feet and hands, he scrambled as fast as he could up to the top, narrowly dodging the swords swinging at him from below. 

Panting, Grian heaved himself up and slumped across the top of the wall. 

“The beast!” Someone called out nearby. Oh right, there were more guards stationed on the wall. 

He shoved himself to his feet, head whipping from side to side as the guards closed in, trapping him. The only way out was to jump from the top of the wall to the outside of the village. 

Grian took a deep breath, shakily lifted his wings, and tilted forward into empty air. For a brief moment, he was weightless, gliding on air. Then his feet slammed into the ground and he crumpled like wet paper. The village elder’s angry yelling rang out behind him. 

A glance over his shoulder confirmed that the guard’s hadn’t given up so easily. Already they were streaming from the entrance gate, swords and axes drawn. Grian wobbled back to his feet, the strange new bends in his legs somehow not slowing him down at all. 

He sprinted away from the village, his heavy wings alternating between dragging on the ground and lifting uncomfortably into the air, slowing him down like two sails as they caught the wind. “Useless! Why did it have to be me?” He hissed under his breath. 

Grian made the mistake of glancing back at his pursuers, only to see that one had caught up with him, and was swinging his ax in an overhead blow. Grian leapt forward just in time to dodge the swing, and the ax dug into the ground with an impact that could be felt as it shook the ground. 

Gritting his teeth, he set his sight on the woods ahead, determined to lose them among the trees. He pushed himself to run faster, even as his legs ached with the effort. Every pounding footstep behind him seemed to echo around his skull as his heart fluttered with adrenaline. 

Finally, with one last push, Grian crossed the border into the woods. He didn’t stop, continuing to sprint as he hopped over exposed roots and avoided getting his wings caught on low-hanging branches. 

It wasn’t until his heart stopped beating in his ears that he realized the guards were no longer chasing him. Grian paused, panting, looking in every direction to confirm that he was no longer being pursued. His hearing was sharper now, and though he could hear the small animals in the underbrush, there was no sign of the guards. 

For a moment he stood there, waiting for his panicked brain to calm down enough that he could think straight. He slowly sat down, crooked bird legs splayed out in front of him, tail and wings poking uncomfortably into the soft dirt. 

He had reached the woods, and the villagers stopped chasing him? But why? 

The realization dawned on him after what felt like an embarrassingly long time. 

The monster in the woods!

Chapter Text

Grian froze completely. His wings snapped tight to his back as he tried to make himself as small as possible. The only thought echoing around his mind was the repeated chant of predator-predator-predator . 

His feet were tucked underneath him, arms curled to his chest. Only his eyes and ear feathers moved, searching frantically for the threat he knew was somewhere out there. Each sight and sound was quickly zeroed in on and inspected, then disregarded. A squirrel in the branches above, several loud birds, a rabbit behind him delicately eating grass; nothing escaped his notice. 

Just when he was about to let his guard down, a new sound appeared. Four quiet footsteps creeping across the forest floor towards him. 

Grian slowly, carefully, turned his head to face the direction the sound was coming from. To his horror, and slight relief, it wasn’t some grotesque monster. Instead, a creeper was slowly making its way over to him. 

Creepers were tall creatures with four small paws that allowed them to walk almost silently, along with mottled green fur that camouflaged them among the trees. Their horned heads, sunken hollow eyes and perpetually open mouth completed the terrible picture. 

Oh, and they also explode when threatened. And that includes when anyone enters their territory. 

Grian slowly stood up, backing away from the creature. To his surprise, the creeper simply stared at him for a moment, then lowered itself to the ground and sat there, laying like a dog on the forest floor. 

For a moment longer, they stared at each other. “Okay,” Grian started. “That’s weird. But I’m not going to question it right now. This is simply my luck finally turning around.” 

He continued to back away until the creeper was out of sight, then turned and walked further into the woods. 

Grian had no idea what to do next. Leaving the woods would mean facing the wrath of the village, and if he got past them, there was the rest of non-human fearing society to deal with. But there was also the worry that the villagers would try to come after him in the woods. After all, he wasn’t much of a monster, they might think they have a chance against him. 

That left one last option, the most risky one. He could find where the monster lived and set up shelter near there, using it as a guard dog to keep him safe. 

It might end with him losing his life. But what else did he have to lose? His life was basically already ruined by his transformation into a strange bird-creature. At least by hiding out next to the monster he might survive for a bit longer. 

With that sobering thought, Grian continued to push through the woods, on the lookout for any sign of the monster. 

Instead, he stumbled into a tomato plant. In fact, he almost trampled it, running directly into the lattice it was supported by. He backed away. “Tomatoes? Wait, an entire garden?” 

The woods had opened up into a clearing, and there in the dirt were neat rows of vegetables and herbs. The tomatoes were almost completely ripe, and Grian could also see rows of peas and cucumbers that looked ready to be harvested as well. 

If there was a garden, then there must be some sort of home nearby. 

Grian walked around the lattice and found a path of trampled grass leading away from the garden clearing. With his eyes and ears at the ready, Grian began to creep down it. 

The path wound around, seemingly designed to avoid cutting down trees or removing bushes. Grian tensed up as he rounded every corner, sure that the monster was simply lying in wait for him. 

But he made it to the end of the path without seeing nor hearing anything of the monster. Instead, he stopped outside another clearing, this one much larger. Inside it was a sizable house. Not very large, but certainly larger than some of the houses in the village. It had two stories, and off-shooting rooms that added to its size. 

The whole house was well-built and sturdy looking. It was clearly made using the trees that had been cut down to form the clearing, blending nicely with the forest around it. It didn’t look like the den of a monster, it looked like any other homestead. 

Before Grian could consider turning back and coming up with another plan, something pinged within his brain. It was as if his usual logic had been thrown out the window, instead replaced by a far simpler program. 

It was dangerous to stay outside. He needed shelter. There was a house. It is sturdy and has many hiding places. 

He should shelter in the house. 

He should build his nest there. 

Grian shook his head vigorously. Where did that last thought even come from? Nest? “Am I really just turning into a huge bird?!” He whispered loudly. 

In any case, he couldn’t turn back now. Clearly, going into the house was his only option. However, he wasn’t going to go in through the front door. The monster could be anywhere still. 

So he crept slowly towards the house, pressing himself against the nearest wall. His feathered ears perked up immediately. There was something moving around the house. He froze, listening closer. 

The monster was on the other side of the house far away enough that he was safe for now. 

Grian slowly made his way toward the porch at the front of the house. There the roof extended out, supported by exposed beams. He carefully and quietly hefted himself up onto the railing, then shimmied up the beam. With his claws hooked into the edge of the roof, he pulled himself up. 

Grian flopped onto the roof and froze, afraid the monster might have heard him. After a few moments of panicked listening he started moving again, not hearing the monster nearby. He crawled across the sloped roof sideways, hands clinging to the peak. 

His aim was the small attic window set on the side of the house just below the peak of the roof. The trouble was getting from the roof to the window without either falling or alerting the monster. 

Grian hung halfway off the roof, one hand gripping the edge and the other reaching for the window. He stretched and strained, wings lifting up just in case he went toppling. His claws just barely caught the edge of the window. 

With a strained grunt, Grian yanked on the window, hoping that it wasn’t locked. For a moment, the window resisted, then it gave in, opening with a grinding screech. 

Oh no, the monster definitely heard that. Grian’s ear feathers perked up as he listened. Sure enough, heavy footsteps were heading his way. He had to get inside and hide before he was spotted. 

Quickly, he reversed position, arms holding onto the roof while his legs dangled down. He swung his feet through the window, and let go. 

Unfortunately, he’d forgotten about the huge wings and tail he now had. He got about halfway through the window before his feathered limbs smacked into the outside of the house. For a moment he tilted dangerously, almost falling back out of the window. 

Grian held onto the edges of the window, wings shuffling frantically. With some squeezing and maneuvering, and a few lost feathers, he made it through the window. Now there was only the monster to worry about. 

Speaking of, the trapdoor in the floor of the attic was slowly opening. Grian quickly searched for a place to hide. Storage chests, empty armor stands, a loom, there were no spots to duck behind. 

Then he looked up and spotted the beams supporting the roof. There was a dark corner where the beams created a sort of platform. Grian scrambled towards it, jumping straight up and pulling himself into the darkness. Carefully, he tucked all of his limbs in until he was completely hidden in shadow. 

He watched with horror as the monster emerged from below. 

Chapter Text

Doc liked his peace and quiet, so when something disturbed that, he noticed immediately. Today, he heard some sort of animal trying to force its way into his attic. 

He sighed. The attic was so difficult to get into, he only really used it for long-term storage. He didn’t own enough things to need it for much more. The ladder to the attic was stored under the stairs, and he had to find it and carry it all the way upstairs to the trapdoor in the ceiling. 

Then he had to prop the trapdoor open enough to place the ladder, push it open with one hand while using the other to climb the ladder. 

During the entire process, he could hear the animal find a way in, then shuffle around a bit. It sounded feathery, probably a bird then. He couldn’t quite remember if birds were able to open windows or not. 

By the time he managed to climb all the way into the attic, the bird had obviously been scared away by him. Doc glanced around the room, listening to make sure it wasn’t hiding anywhere. 

The floor by the window was littered with many large black feathers. Judging by the size, the bird was certainly large enough to open the window. At least that seemed like the most logical explanation. 

The bird was nowhere to be seen or heard, so it must have been scared back out of the window. Doc closed it and flipped the lock so that the animal wouldn’t get in again. He didn’t remember why it hadn’t been locked before. 

With that, he simply picked up all the feathers to toss outside and climbed down from the attic. 

It wasn’t until he’d put the ladder away that Doc realized his cybernetic eye had automatically shut itself off. He sighed, mumbling to himself. “This summer heatwave came out of nowhere, man. Messing up my electronics again.” 

He headed to his workshop, one of the offshoots he’d added after his basic needs had been met. It also happened to be the only room he had expanded multiple times. Doc absentmindedly dropped the handful of feathers on a table out of the way and opened a cabinet to find the correct components. 

With the right pieces, and a bottle of his own coolant recipe, Doc went about fixing his eye. The horn on the cybernetic part of his head was detachable, and he replaced it with one that had a reservoir for coolant. He poured the liquid in, screwed the cap back on, and slotted the new horn into place. 

Doc winced. The coolant always gave him a brain freeze when he first put it in. But at least he could see fully now. He manually switched off the data overlay from the cybernetic eye, taking the strain off of the electronics. 

He also decided to preemptively add another coolant tank to his robotic arm. It was a metal canister that slotted into a nook on the outside of his bicep. Similar to the horn, adding the coolant gave his arm a cold shock at first. It felt like an ache in his joints. 

Doc opened and closed his metal hand a couple times, impatiently waiting for the temperature to level out. With a huff, he left it alone. 

Now that he’d protected his robotic parts from the heat, he might as well get some outdoor work done. Doc always had a list of chores to complete, not that he minded. He was never one to sit idly. 

Starting at his front entrance, Doc began to trim the edges of his cobblestone path. When he reached the part where it went from stone to flattened grass, he used a shovel to continue his project of laying stone to extend it. 

By the time the path had been laid up to the garden, the sun had reached its peak in the sky. Doc briefly checked on his plants, then brushed the dirt from his hands. He paced the edge of his property, waving at the few creepers he saw among the trees. 

He wondered if the hivemind had noticed the large bird from before. They hadn’t warned him about it, so it must have not been a threat. Though sometimes the hivemind just informed him of mildly interesting things in the forest, so it was strange they hadn’t said anything about the bird. 

In any case, the bird was gone now. The thought made him slightly sad. Most birds flew away before he could even see them, it would have been nice to have one so close. 

Then again, most animals ran away from him. The creepers were the only living creatures that weren’t instinctively afraid of him. 

Doc snorted, obviously the creepers liked him. Anyone could see why. 

He decided to head back inside to complete some more chores. Everything he’d done so far got recorded in his logbook, including chasing the bird from his attic. His redstone projects, which were little more than various small machines that he made just to keep himself entertained, got some adjustments as well. The data overlay from his eye was a huge help as always. 

Then it was just the regular upkeep of his house, boring things like dusting. Like always, he left nothing unclean, refusing to sacrifice even a smidge of effort. 

As he finished, the handful of feathers still on his workshop table caught his attention. They really were quite strange. As far as Doc was aware, birds were quite small, even the largest one’s he’d seen could fit into his hand. But these feathers were long, the longest was at least twice as large as his hand. 

He tried to think of how big the bird was based on the length of the feathers. It had to be at least a couple feet tall. 

Perhaps it had been migrating? Some tropical bird that got blown off course? Doc almost considered going out and trying to find it to bring back to his workshop. He’d never studied birds before, but he wasn’t exactly unfamiliar with biological science. 

But he rejected the idea immediately. His days of experimenting on living creatures were over. Even so, Doc tucked the feathers away for safekeeping. Maybe he’d do something with them later. 

The sun was setting, and Doc left his workshop to start dinner. But he was stopped by a scratching, shuffling noise overhead. It sounded like something in his attic. 

“I thought the pesky bird was gone.” He mused to himself, climbing the stairs with the ladder once more. 

He reached the top and tried to open the trapdoor. But it was stuck, something on top weighing it down. Probably one of the chest’s he’d stored up there. 

“Who’s up there?” He called. There was no answer except for the scrabbling of claws and the rustle of feathers.

Doc frowned. So the bird had returned to his attic. He set aside the ladder. Truth be told, he could probably force open the trapdoor. The chests weren’t that heavy, seeing as there was barely anything in them. 

But the pesky bird was clearly persistent, he would need a more complete plan to make sure it didn’t come back again. And that was a problem for future Doc. 

For now, he found the key to the trapdoor and locked it from the outside. The pesky bird could take the attic, but he didn’t want it in the rest of his house. 

Then he left to make dinner, already thinking about how to best use his harvest of ripe tomatoes.

Chapter Text

Grian sat on top of the chest that he’d slid over the trapdoor to block it. The monster seemed to have given up on getting in for now. Even so, he hesitated to move for fear that it might come back. The brief glimpse of the huge creature he’d gotten earlier was enough to rattle him to his bones. 

After another hour, when the sun had well and truly set outside, Grian finally got down from his perch. He was exhausted from being scared all day, but he still couldn’t relax. 

There was a persistent itch at the back of his mind, urging him to…do something. It was unclear what he needed. But he was simply too tired to question it. With nothing but instinct to guide him, he started to rearrange the attic. 

The chests didn’t have much in them, but he did find about half a stack of various colors of wool, along with a scattering of wood planks. He cleared out the corner of the attic, and stacked chests and planks to create walls and a roof. Then he layered wool over the floor and part way up the walls. 

Grian pulled the last chest into place, sealing himself inside securely. But it would not keep out the monster. The thought sent chills down his spine. Every small shuffle of the creature below made him tense up, listening frantically in case it was trying to break in. 

He didn’t know much about this monster, just that a whole village couldn’t kill it. It was obviously not mindless, judging by the whole house and garden it had built. In a way, he was glad that the village hadn’t killed it. If anything, it meant that he had a safe place to hide, both from the people and the monster. 

Grian wondered why the monster had decided to live next to a village that obviously hated it. He chuckled quietly to himself. The monster was somehow a haven, like an unwilling bodyguard. Or a roommate that was completely unaware of his presence. 

His massive wings curled around his body, and he sighed. He slipped into an uneasy rest. 

The next morning, Grian woke up with a jolt. His eyes snapped open, instantly adjusting to the dark. His ear feathers shot up, tangling with his messy hair. His wings tried to pull back into a more defensive position, but the tight space didn’t allow it. 

In fact, the second his wings brushed the walls he relaxed a bit. It was dark, and he was surrounded on all sides by barriers. He was safe. 

Finally, the rest of Grian’s brain caught up. There was still a long list of things that he had to do, starting with finding food and making sure his nest was actually secure. 

He shoved his way out of the nest, closing it up behind him and doing his best to camouflage it. That was one thing he could cross off the list. Seeing as he’d passed a garden yesterday, that’s where he’d look for food. 

Getting out of the attic was much easier than getting in. Grian opened the window and squeezed through, then hung down from his hands, letting go and dropping, gliding haphazardly to the ground. He hit the ground and stumbled, wings flaring and smacking into the house behind him. Oops. Hopefully the monster was still sleeping, the sun was barely up after all. 

It took Grian a little while to find the way back to the garden. The path was made of stone now, which threw him off slightly. That monster worked fast, and very meticulously. The path was very neat and level. 

Inside the garden, Grian was careful to pick only a few vegetables from each plant, stuffing them into his pockets. All except for a couple tomatoes, which he devoured then and there. 

Now came the challenge of getting back into the attic. Grian’s wings twitched eagerly. He really really wanted to fly up to the window. Therein lay several issues. First: he didn’t know how to fly. Second: even if he did, the window was still far too small. 

Oh and third: the monster was moving around the house and he could hear it. So he had to form a plan, and quickly. 

Grian sprang into action. He jumped straight up, caught the edge of the porch roof, and hauled himself up. He then shimmied along the roof and repeated the process to grab the edge of the open attic window and slither through. In the end, his arms were aching and most of the vegetables in his pockets were squashed. But he’d made it. 

The veggies got stored safely away in one corner of his nest. The juices from the squashed ones dried uncomfortably on Grian’s pants, but he was already filthy from hiking through the woods, so it didn’t change much. 

Grian settled back into his nest, chittering contentedly to himself. 

Then he jolted, wings ruffling in surprise as the monster banged on the outside of the blocked trapdoor. 

He jumped up, climbing on top of the chest he had used to block the door, using his weight to hold it down even more. The trapdoor bounced with another loud bang, opening up a couple inches before falling back down. 

There was a small pause. Grian’s claws dug into the wood of the chest, eyes wide as he waited for the monster to either break in or give up. 

Then there was a mechanical whirring, and the trapdoor slowly and steadily began to rise. Grian screeched and hopped off of the chest as it slid to the side. 

He could see some sort of metal contraption coming into view as it slowly propped up the door. He flinched as he caught a glimpse of a glowing red eye staring up into the attic space. 

Before Grian could react, a hand shot up through the trapdoor. Something shiny and metal was clutched in the green furred paw. The monster set it down then disappeared, the trapdoor slamming back down. 

Grian stared at the device for a moment. Then it started beeping loudly. Oh no. 

He took a flying leap straight into the rafters just as the small box burst. The thing unfolded, exploding into a bright flash of light that overwhelmed him. Grian clung to the rafter, screeching in surprise as he screwed his eyes shut as tight as possible. 

The light left shimmering spots in his vision, leaving him dizzy and seasick. Grian shimmied along the rafter until he could drop down in front of the nest, swaying drunkenly. 

Grian, thoroughly out of it,  decided to wait and see what the monster would do next, curling up in his nest with a pained whine.

He didn’t get a chance to rest however, because then the monster started to come into the attic.

Grian sat up, blinking to try and clear his vision, watching in shock. The monster climbed up, and up, and up. It was huge, head brushing the ceiling. And it was horrifying, half creeper and half metal, with a glowing red mechanical eye, and a robotic arm with knife-like claws. 

It dropped to a crouch in front of Grian’s nest, a burning stare finding him in the dark. 

Finally, Grian’s brain stopped lagging. With no logical reasoning left at all, he had one goal, escape. Which meant going through the monster. 

So he launched himself at the creature, screeching like a banshee as he raked his talons across the thing’s face. It turned to the side, and his talons collided with metal plates, sending sparks into the dim room. 

The monster rumbled, a rolling sound lower than a growl that rattled Grian to the bones. Grian froze for a moment, wings flattening protectively to his back. The monster tilted its head. “So this is the pesky bird that has been causing me trouble? Stealing from my garden and messing up my storage?” 

Grian chirped, terrified. Then he launched back into action. 

He ducked, dodged, and dove down through the trapdoor and out of the attic. He felt the monster reach for him, a hand brushing past his wings as he narrowly escaped. Grian stuffed his wings through the gap and landed with a thump on the floor below. 

Said thump happened to be his nose getting crushed by the floorboards, but he was choosing to ignore that fact, blinking away the tears that had sprung to his eyes and scrambling to his feet. 

He had no idea what to expect from the inside of the house. But his half-imagined visions of a creepy cabin where a vicious murderer might live ended up being dead wrong. The hall was covered in light colored wood paneling, a brightly patterned rung running down the middle, and paintings lining the walls. With his clawed feet skidding on the wooden floors, he careened around the corner and nearly tumbled down a flight of stairs. 

Grian counted himself lucky that this house had been built by the monster, for the monster. The wide halls and high ceilings accommodated his large wingspan as he sprinted towards the front door. 

He didn’t even make it across the living room on the first floor. Instead, he screamed as a spike of pain shot up from his tail. He whipped around to see the monster, leaned fully forwards with his non-robotic hand gripping the feathers, bending and breaking several in the process. Grian’s vision narrowed to a single point, and he twisted fully around, snarling. 

In his haste to get away, several long feathers were torn out, splatters of blood left in his wake. But he was out of the monster’s grip. Grian fixated on that still extended hand, and in the split second it took for the monster to retract it, he lunged. 

The monster's blood tasted like gunpowder, he thought absently as he sank his sharpened teeth into one of its fingers. 

Then the hand was ripped out of his mouth and he remembered exactly why he’d been running. The monster reared back, a shocked sort of growl exploding out of it. Not for the first time, Grian was struck by how massive the monster was as it bared its teeth in a snarl, looking like it could bite his head clean off. 

Grian dropped to the floor and rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the monster’s second attempt at grabbing him. Once on his belly, he struck out with his wings. One whacked into the monster’s face as it leaned forward to follow him to the floor. 

The edge of his wing scraped against the monster’s robotic eye, stinging with the impact. Grian yanked his wings back in and started crawling away as fast as he could. 

But he didn’t make it far, even as he got his feet back beneath him. 

Before he could stand, the monster wrapped both arms around his middle and crushed him to the floor, wings and arms pinned even as he thrashed and screeched shrilly. 

“Calm down Pesky Bird!” The monster said, panting. “I’m not going to hu–”

Grian curled his knees underneath him and launched upward, slamming his skull into the monster’s jaw. 

To his surprise, the thing let out a high pitched whimper as it released him to reflexively cradle the injury. But Grian didn’t let the opportunity go to waste, squirming out from underneath the creature. 

The front door was blocked by the monster, so Grian ran deeper into the house. Past the staircase and the kitchen, he found a suspicious door, metal instead of wood. Could it be a way out the back? 

He looked behind him and saw the monster only a few feet behind. So he bolted through it before he could hesitate any longer. 

The door did not lead outside, instead opening up to the strangest room Grian had ever seen. It was filled with mechanical clutter, garden tools, and various desks and tables with more tools and lights. It was a laboratory or some sort, mixed with haphazard storage. 

“Oh no.” Said the monster from behind him. 

Grian snarled at it, hopping up onto one of the tables to be eye level with it. Or at least slightly closer to eye level. 

“Don’t move, Pesky Bird! Don’t. Touch. Anything.” 

Grian bent down and picked up the first thing he saw, some sort of arm with a sharp saw on the end, and threw it at the monster’s face. 

It batted it away carelessly. “That’s just rude.” It said,

For a moment they stared at each other. Then Grian spun around and launched himself off the table and further into the lab. Surely there was something here he could fend off the monster with. 

In one corner he spotted a pile of garden tools, and more importantly, a ladder. He scrambled over counters and tables, knocking a container of redstone dust to the floor and spilling it everywhere. 

The monster moved forward slowly, stalking. It kept its arms out to either side to catch Grian if he tried to run. Grian picked up the ladder and extended it, wedging iit in between a table and the wall to block the monster. 

Then he scooped up a handful of carefully organized wrenches and started throwing them at it. The monster ducked and shielded its face with its metal arm. The wrenches bounced off one by one with a clatter. 

“Pesky bird, please give up already. You’re making a mess of my workshop.” 

“Stop calling me that!” Grian screeched, the first words he had said to the creature so far. 

The monster paused. “What should I call you then?” 

Grian answered by snatching up a drill, turning it on, and charging at it. 

He leapt over the ladder and aimed for the monster’s stomach, trying to dodge past its arms. But he was running out of energy, having sprinted and fought with everything he had, running on adrenaline and very little sleep. 

So his attack fell short, his previous speed disappearing as his energy crashed. And the monster snatched the drill out of his hands and tossed it aside. 

“That’s enough of that. Let’s talk instead, yeah?”

Chapter Text

Truthfully, the only reason Doc decided to force his way into the attic was that he was annoyed about half of his garden’s harvest being missing. So he’d whipped up a device to stun the pesky bird long enough that he could see just what kind of huge bird needed so many vegetables. 

He hadn’t expected that his device wouldn’t work, or that the reason that it didn’t was that his attic resident wasn’t a bird at all. Instead he’d found some sort of mutant bird-man. 

In any case, the bird-man wasn’t telling him his name, so Doc decided to just keep calling him Pesky Bird. Serves him right for stealing from his garden. And also because the bird-man was once again trying to bite him. 

Doc was trying to be gentle, and Pesky Bird clearly didn’t have much fight left in him so it shouldn’t be that hard to pin him, but the bird-man still squirmed and fought as he took him by the arm and marched him back out of the workshop. Doc made sure the door was locked behind him. 

Pesky Bird kept twisting around and clawing at Doc’s hand, but he was having no luck due to it being the cybernetic one. Doc was not taking any more chances. 

He sighed. Pesky Bird had bitten him, clawed him, and made him bite his own tongue and he was done with it all. Done with fighting and trying to calm the little thing down. 

The bird-man was clearly terrified of him, which meant Doc could either try to placate him or scare him stiff. Either option would work, to a degree. It had been a long time since Doc had studied animal behavior, and he did not have much faith in his abilities to get the bird-man to stop fighting him. 

It had been even longer since he’d had a friendly interaction with another sentient person, making him even more lost on where to start. 

For a long moment, he stared at Pesky Bird, lost in thought. He hardly noticed the way the creature stopped struggling and froze, still leaning as far away from him as possible, but now utterly still. 

Doc blinked, coming to a decision. “I do not care that you refuse to hear me out. For both your sake and mine we need to understand each other.” 

Pesky Bird was still frozen, staring. 

Doc nodded awkwardly. “Right, uh, let’s sit down.” 

He pulled Pesky Bird along with him to his dining room. It was enclosed and far away enough from and escape routes that he was reasonably sure he’d be able to catch the bird-man if he ran. Yet it was open enough to the rest of the house that it wasn’t claustrophobic to the still freaked out bird-man. 

Doc let go of Pesky Bird and sat down in one of the two chairs on one side of the table. For a moment he was sure that the bird-man would make a run for it. But the creature seemed less scared now and more confused. He looked around slowly, the feathers at his ears swiveling as well. 

Eventually, a determined look settled onto his face and without looking at Doc he sat down across from him. Doc realized a little too late that his chairs and table, made specifically for himself, might be too large to be comfortable for anyone else. 

Pesky Bird didn’t seem to mind, letting his wings fall to either side and curling up on the chair, only his beady black eyes staring up over the edge of the table. 

It was a bit funny, the way the bird-man glared at him as if daring him to point out the ridiculousness. Doc simply cleared his throat and fought back an amused smile before speaking. “You’ve put me in a difficult place, Pesky Bird. I can’t throw you out because I know how cruel humans are to people like us. But you don’t seem to like me very much either.” 

The bird-man’s feathers all puffed out defensively. That was a defensive behavior right? Doc thought, like birds do that to make themselves bigger and more intimidating?

“So for now, until we figure something out, I’m going to let you stay here. You can have the attic if you like it there, but you need to ask before taking my things. I have plenty of food and supplies but you can’t just steal stuff.”

Pesky Bird tilted his head at Doc. 

“I need to make dinner, and then we can get you some supplies in the attic so you’re comfortable.” 

Doc stood up, mumbling to himself about all the things he’d need to accommodate Pesky Bird. He didn’t even glance back at the bird-man as he made his way to the kitchen. 

“Soup would be easy for tonight…” He was so used to talking to himself in an empty house, working out his thoughts out loud, that he didn’t even take notice of the fact that he had an audience now. 

He only remembered after he’d gotten out the ingredients for soup. When he turned back around, it was to see the bird-man silently slide to the ground and shuffle back to hide in the shadows under the table. 

Doc shrugged. Whatever made him feel safe. 

When the vegetable soup was done, Doc slid the bowl and spoon under the table. Clawed hands snatched them up and dragged them into the darkness. 

It almost seemed like the shadows had gotten darker and thicker, even Doc’s cybernetic eye had trouble seeing through them. With a barely repressed shudder, Doc decided to eat his own soup in the kitchen. 

A few minutes later, the empty bowl and spoon were pushed out from under the table. There was a slight pause, then a quiet voice spoke up from the shadows beneath the table. “Thank you. My name’s Grian, by the way.” 

Doc smiled. “Call me Doc.” 

Chapter Text

The monster, Doc, was being really nice for some reason. He’d fed Grian, and now he was leading him upstairs, not even bothering to make sure he didn’t try to run while his back was turned. 

Doc was still kind of terrifying. He was absolutely huge, which set off alarm bells in Grian’s mind. But he was also not hurting Grian, and seemed to be trying to help him. Grian crossed his arms and huffed. Not like he’d apologized for hurting Grian in their fight earlier. 

Doc stopped in front of a door on the second floor. “Here’s the bathroom if you want to get cleaned up.” 

Grian shrugged, not making eye contact. 

“Right, well no offense but you look like you need a bath and some new clothes. I’ll see what I can find for you and leave it outside the door, okay?” 

Grian finally looked at him, frowning. “Do you even own any shirts?” 

“What?” 

“I mean, it seems kinda unsafe to have a whole laboratory and not ever wear a shirt.” 

Doc looked offended. “It's summertime, I need to stay cool somehow.” 

“And yet you still wear a lab coat.” Grian looked at him judgmentally. “Though it’s not much of a coat anymore.” 

“Redstone is messy and dangerous! Clothes get damaged!” 

“All the more reason to wear a shirt if it’s so dangerous.” 

“Okay, you know what? I’m not having this argument. I’ll have clothes for you, just go take a bath.” 

Grian frowned, squinting at him. “Wait a minute, do you not have any nipples? That’s kinda weird.” 

The huge half-creeper, half-robotic monster stared at Grian with an expression of absolute annoyance. “Bath. Please.” 

Grinning, Grian slipped past him and into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. 

The bathroom, predictably, was comically oversized. The edge of the tub came up to Grian’s waist. 

Grian drew in a long breath, holding it for a moment then letting it whoosh out in a huge sigh. He was finally able to relax now that Doc was out of sight. He couldn’t help it, the man was terrifying. 

Though, he seemed a little less scary now that Grian had listened to him ramble to himself about the best way to balance the flavors of various vegetables. The man had a lot to say about tomatoes. 

The monster that the villagers told him about and the reality of who Doc was conflicted in his mind. Grian decided that there must be a reason they were so terrified of Doc, and with that can the notion that eventually his patience would run out. And then Grian would be right back where he started. 

Grian resolved to be on his guard, to make sure he could escape when Doc finally got tired of him. 

It was fully dark outside now, only yellow light from a redstone lamp brightening the room. Grian hopped up on the bathroom counter and stared at himself in the mirror. He pulled one wing in front of him, examining the eyespot pattern that shimmered in purple against the expanse of black feathers. 

“What am I?” He murmured to his reflection. 

His hands brushed over the feathers he could reach, sending down a shower of dust, dirt, and various twigs and leaves. The rest of his body was in much the same shape, dirty and sticky and covered in tiny scratches. There was dried blood itching on his tail from where several feathers were yanked out. 

“I’m a mess is what I am. Guess I really should take a bath.” Grian scowled at the notion that Doc had been right. 

The whole process of filling the tub and awkwardly climbing in made Grian increasingly frustrated at how much the size of everything in this house made him feel like a tiny doll. The knob to turn on the water took both hands to turn! And he could only fill the tub so far before it was too deep to sit in comfortably! He wasn’t even that short!

But all that frustration melted away as he finally got to indulge in the satisfaction of scrubbing off all the grime that had been clinging to his skin. He practically went boneless with relief after dunking his head under and scratching vigorously at his scalp with his new claws. 

The only part of himself that he didn’t try to wash were his wings. His tail inevitably had to get wet, but he didn’t want to be weighed down by soaked feathers that he had no idea how to dry. 

Grian chittered to himself in frustration. His wings were terribly itchy with dirt and misaligned feathers, and it poked at the birdy side of his brain. Before he’d been too stressed out to even notice the disarray of his feathers, but now that he was relatively safe it irritated him greatly. 

With a sigh, Grian finally left the bath, gritting his teeth as he struggled to climb back out over the slippery edge. He decided to simply ignore the fact that his wings were bothering him and figure it out later. 

Like Doc had said, there were clothes waiting for him outside of the door. First was a pair of jeans that had either been cut off or ripped off at the knee, it was unclear which one. In any case, they were still long enough to reach almost to Grian’s ankles. He used the belt included to keep the large pants from falling off completely, though he did have to poke a new hole with his claw to make it tight enough. 

Second was a large red knitted wool sweater. Two holes were hastily cut in the back, the edges unraveling. Grian took a moment to tie off the loose ends properly before slipping it on. His wings fit through the holes easily and he wondered how much thought Doc had put into making sure the size was right. 

The sweater was very cozy, with a high rolled collar that Grian could duck the lower half of his face into for warmth. He rolled up the long sleeves. Yep, there was no way Doc was getting this sweater back, Grian had claimed it as his own. 

Now almost completely clean up and dressed in clean clothes, Grian hesitantly left the bathroom. 

He found Doc a bit down the hall, coming down the ladder from the attic. “Oh good, the clothes worked.” 

Grian nodded. “What are you doing?” 

“I didn’t know how you wanted your space to be set up so I took some things up there that you could arrange however.” 

“Oh, okay.” 

They stared at each other. 

Doc cleared his throat. “Well, if there isn’t anything else you need…”

“No, nothing.” 

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow.” Doc disappeared into another room off the hall, presumably his bedroom. 

Grian waited a moment longer, unsure if this was some sort of trick. Maybe Doc had left another device in the attic for him to trip and get trapped. With a deep breath to steel himself, Grian climbed up the ladder. 

The attic was largely unchanged, his nest still fully intact. There was a mattress off to the side that seemed to have been fashioned specifically for Grian, as it was too small to be one made for Doc. The attic also now contained many more pillows and blankets, stacked neatly on the floor. 

A clicking sound rattled up from Grian’s chest, and he immediately got to work rearranging the attic. 

His old nest got torn apart and moved to the far corner. With all of his new supplies and many of the planks and chests in the attic, he rebuilt the nest even larger and cozier. The entire inside of his hut was lined with blankets, blocking out all light. And the mattress was covered in carefully arranged pillows and blankets, designed specifically to appeal to the birdy part of his brain. 

When Grian finally crawled into the nest and blocked off the entrance, he knew it was perfect. He curled up in the center of his nest, safe and cozy. Aside from the persistent itching of his wings, everything was right with the world. 

If he listened carefully in the direction of what he now knew to be Doc’s room, he could hear his slow steady breaths as he slept peacefully away. This soothed the bird in his head, knowing that the danger might be nearby, but at least it wasn’t currently a threat. 

Grian closed his eyes and let darkness overtake him, falling asleep easily.

Chapter Text

Doc woke up at dawn and nearly ran face first into the ladder extending down from the still open attic. He’d forgotten it was there. 

Grian must still be asleep, because Doc didn’t hear the rest of his house being destroyed. He chuckled softly at the image of the little bird in the center of a trashed house, as feral as ever. 

As it was however, Doc had finished straightening up his workshop and had started making pancakes by the time Grian came stumbling down the stairs. 

The morning passed quietly, as Grian took a while to wake up fully. He answered Doc’s questions with sleepy chirps and slumped onto the couch to wait for breakfast. Doc wished he spoke bird. 

In all honesty he was kind of adorable, his hair and feathers alike sticking up in odd directions. Doc did make a mental note to get him more clothes because it couldn’t have been comfortable to sleep in jeans. He also wondered if it was uncomfortable for Grian’s feathers to be out of place. Did it feel like having tangled hair? 

Doc winced to himself at the thought. This is why he kept his hair short, there was too much to worry about. Though it was still a pain to wash and dry the fur all over his body. Maybe Grian’s wings were similar, needing a special brush or something to keep them in order. He’d have to ask him later. 

For now, Grian practically inhaled a stack of pancakes. Doc didn’t know why he decided to make them, flour was quite hard for him to get. In some sense it felt like a special occasion, finally reaching a peaceful truce with another non-human person. 

Doc sighed as he watched Grian eat. The first time he’d ever met someone like him he ended up fighting them. At least now they had come to a peaceful agreement. 

Maybe he could even help Grian understand what it was like to live as a non-human person. The avian (?) certainly seemed inexperienced. Doc wondered what he had been doing before they met. 

Doc decided to just go with the flow. He’d continue his normal routine, and in doing so show Grian around. Maybe the two of them could even work together. Then they could farm enough to support two people, though Grian was so small it might not even be necessary. 

He had a feeling the avian in question would take issue with that sentiment. 

“C’mon, let’s do some gardening this morning. I know you’ve been there already so it seems like a good place to start.” Doc said to Grian. 

“Sure.” Grian replied, though he crossed his arms and looked away. 

Doc did not comment on it. Instead he led Grian to his plot of vegetables and herbs. “Right now we’re in season for these crops, but later on we’ll cover these plants and grow something different.” 

“Okay.” Grian shuffled along the rows after Doc. He was looking all around him, but Doc noticed that he was mostly staring at the woods beyond them. 

“Don’t worry.” He said, turning to face Grian. “Nobody would dare enter these woods, you’ve got nothing to worry about.” 

“Right.” Grian plucked a green bean from a nearby vine. “Are we going to harvest all of this?” 

“If I take too much, the extra will just rot. I’ve already collected what we need for the week, so right now we just have to make sure the plant’s aren’t damaged.” 

“By things like me?” Grian said cautiously. 

“More like snails, but yes, various pests.” Doc smiled. Grian flinched. Right, sharp teeth. 

They patrol the garden plot together. Doc occasionally picks off snails, tossing them into the woods. He has natural barriers to them set up, but a few still get through. And it's not exactly a big enough problem that he can just throw redstone machinery at it. 

He grimaces to himself. No, definitely not building another automatic farm. 

Grian follows along, though he does split off to another part of the garden. It almost seems like he’s hiding from Doc. Anytime the creeper-cyborg looks at him he ducks away again. 

The way he’s acting might be a predator/prey instinct that keeps going off at Doc’s presence. It makes Doc itch for a notepad to write his behavior down on. He shakes it away though, prying another snail off of a plant and tossing it gently into the underbrush. 

Once again, Doc catches Grian staring off into the woods. 

“Why don’t we go inside before it gets too hot out?” Doc suggests. 

Grian shrugs. 

They head inside. After the tension of the morning Doc is dying to unwind by working on some redstone. But the last time they were in his workshop they were fighting. Grian might not enjoy being there again. 

Even so, Doc approaches the door. Before he can open it however, Grian freezes. “Wait, we’re going in there?” 

“Yeah, I like to do redstone in my spare time. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.” 

“No, it’s just–I messed up your stuff last time!” Grian gasps and flinches away, wings curling over his shoulders as he folds in on himself. 

Doc scrambles to calm his panic. “No, no, I don’t care about that. You were scared, it’s not your fault.” 

Grian unfolds slightly. “Okay, if you say so.” He replies, though his eyes never leave the floor. 

Doc pauses a moment longer just in case he changes his mind. Then finally, they go in. The workshop has already been cleaned up, and Doc picks up his latest project. He settles down at a worktable with his tools. “Feel free to watch, or you can look around if you like.” 

The rest of the world fades away as Doc’s focus narrows in on his project. He never makes anything serious nowadays, but he treats every machine with the same level of precision and care. With practiced and fluid motions he sets to work on the finer redstone details of his machine. Even with large, paw-like hands, his touch is steady and measured. 

With a low hum of satisfaction, Doc carefully affixes the outer paneling of the machine back on. It’s done. For a long moment he looks it over, admiring his work. 

Then the moment is broken by a loud crash. Doc whips around to see Grian standing over the remains of an earlier project. Doc had stored it on a high shelf, and from the looks of it, Grian had climbed up to get it. But he ended up dropping it in the process. 

Grian’s hands were pressed over his mouth, his eyes wide with fear. Every jet-black feather seemed to stand on end. He was frozen, staring at Doc, waiting for his reaction. 

It was clearly an accident. The machine wasn’t even that important, just a display of technical skills. But the ruins of it still shot hot frustrations through Doc’s core. 

“Excuse me for a moment.” He said coolly. Grian visibly shuddered, but Doc didn’t spare him a glance. 

Instead, he marched himself right outside. After walking a few paces into the woods, Doc tilted back his head and roared. Several birds took off in alarm. Doc took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. There, much better. 

Back inside, Doc found Grian curled up in a fearful ball behind his couch. “I’m not angry with you.” Doc reassured gently. “I was just a little frustrated.” 

He sat down on the couch. “Care to join me?” 

Grian silently shuffled over and sat next to him, still pressed to the corner. Grian sucked in a shaky breath and lifted his head to look at Doc. “Please don’t kick me out.” 

“What? No, I would never do that. Nether, you could burn down the house, by accident of course, and I still would forgive you.” 

“Really?” Grian said quietly. His shoulders pulled up around his face like he was scared it was some sort of trick. 

“Yeah, I’m not just going to throw you to the wolves. It wouldn’t be right. Besides, I would never blame you for an accident.” 

Grian hummed uncertainly. 

Maybe it was still that predator/prey instinct? “You know you’re safe here, right?” 

Grian didn’t respond.  

Doc studied him for a long moment, and noticed a spiky twig tangled in the feathers at the top of his wing. “Oh wait, you have something–” He reached over to take it out. 

In a flash Grian lunged at him and snapped his teeth around his hand, snarling. 

“Oh ow! Okay I get it I won’t touch you!” 

Grian’s expression cleared, and just as quickly he let go of Doc. He shrank back in on himself, arms over his head as his wings wrapped around. He was shaking. 

“Grian? Are you okay?” 

“I’m so tired of being scared.” Grian said softly. “Can you just hurt me already and get it over with? The waiting is bad enough as it is.”

Doc leaned back, shocked. “I’m not going to hurt you. Why would you think that?” 

“Because I don’t know what you want with me!” Grian shouted, uncovering his face and pulling back his wings. “You’re being so kind for no reason! it doesn’t make sense!” 

“I want…” Doc stared at his hands, folded in his lap, metal against flesh. “...your trust. That’s all, I want you to trust me. And I want to understand you.” 

“Understand? You mean you want to study me?” Grian looked horrified. 

“No, not like a scientist studying a specimen. I want to understand you person to person. So I guess I also want you to understand me .” 

“And to trust you.” 

“Right, I want to earn your trust. And you will earn mine too, in time. We don’t have to be friends, but I want to be on equal ground with you.”

“But you keep doing so much for me! I haven’t done anything but mess stuff up.” Grian curled his knees to his chest, laying his chin on folded arms. 

“You’ll learn to help in time. For now you’re just getting settled in.” Doc smiled, his teeth carefully covered. “Welcome to the homestead!” 

Grian watched him for a moment, no doubt searching for lies. When he found none, he relaxed. His head tilted back into the couch cushion and he stretched out sideways, still leaning into the corner. “We’ll see about that.” He said sleepily. 

Doc held perfectly still as Grian’s wings slowly stretched outwards, drooping as he drifted off.  The wing closest to Doc was just inches away, the longest flight feather almost touching him. 

Grian fell asleep with a quiet sigh, his expression the most peaceful Doc had ever seen it. 

“Better than nothing I guess.” Doc mumbled to himself. 

And with that, he stood up to find a blanket to drape over Grian. 

Chapter Text

For once, Grian woke up slowly. He was cozy and warm, and at the edge of his awareness he could hear Doc in the kitchen nearby. With that knowledge he relaxed further. 

Then he immediately sat bolt upright. What was that? Why did knowing Doc was nearby make him feel reassured? 

Not twenty-four hours ago he’d been flinching at the creeper-man’s every move. Now his stupid bird brain had decided that his presence translated into safety? 

The bird part of his brain cheerfully chirped Flock!

Say what now? 

But no matter how much Grian told that part of his brain that Doc was a threat, that he couldn’t be trusted, it wouldn’t listen. His deeper instincts were convinced that the man was now a part of their little bird family. 

The switch was jarring, the two sides of Grian’s mind warring with each other. It was so disorienting that he didn’t even notice when Doc came into the room. 

“I made breakfast, if you’re up for it.” 

Provider! Flock! Birdbrain chanted. 

“Sure, yeah, be right there.” 

Doc looked surprised that Grian had even answered. “Okay.” 

He disappeared back into the kitchen. 

Grian got up, shoving the unwanted thoughts to the back of his mind. Today was going to be just like any other day. Doc was not his flock and would never be. He would go along with all the chores again and would absolutely not say or do anything out of the ordinary. 

Even as he made these promises to himself, Grian had a feeling he wouldn’t be following them. 

Doc must have noticed his discomfort, because he offered to take care of the garden while Grian ate, saying that he must be tired after spending the night on an uncomfortable couch. 

Luckily, the bird brain settled down once Doc was out of sight. But the peace only lasted until Grian was done with breakfast. 

Like yesterday, Doc could be found in his workshop. This time he was working on a completely different but equally incomprehensible machine. He hardly glanced at Grian as the avian entered. 

Truth be told, Grian could have just done something else, he didn’t have to follow Doc to the workshop. But his bird brain was desperate to be near Doc. It kept filling Grian with a bone-deep longing that he couldn’t understand. All he knew was that being near Doc seemed to ease that ache a bit. 

So he sat down in a chair not too far away and watched the man work. This lasted only a few minutes before the bird brian decided to speak up. Instead of the same longing, it took a different form. All of the uncomfortable, itchy parts of his wings that he’d been ignoring suddenly came rushing back. It was as if every single nerve was on fire, the feathers ruffling like hairs standing on end to try and alleviate the sensation. 

Grian slowly extended his wings, trying not to disturb Doc. Gritting his teeth, he reached for the closest patch of feathers and dug his talons in, desperate to get rid of the itch. But the relief only lasted for a second before returning tenfold. 

With a groan of frustration, Grian flopped forward until his head rapped against the table. The same table that Doc had been working at. 

“Grian? Are you alright?” 

“M fine.” Grian mumbled back. 

“Are you sure? You’ve been acting strange all morning.” 

“It’s nothing.” Grian’s stomach swooped at the embarrassing thought of telling Doc that his instincts had claimed him as flock. Or that his wings were really itchy and he’d like to light them on fire to get rid of the sensation. “Just…my bird brain being stupid.” 

“Don’t you think I’d be able to understand that better than anyone else? I’m not exactly human either.” 

Grian turned his head to face Doc, still laying on the table. “You think so?” 

“Of course. And even if I don't, I'm completely willing to help.” 

Grian chewed at his lip. He couldn’t bear to tell Doc the truth. But maybe the man could help him with something else his instincts had been itching to do. “Well, I never learned to fly and now my brain is messing me up about it.” 

Doc smiled, putting down his tools and standing up. “Let’s go figure it out then.” 

Outside in the clearing, Grian immediately turned away from Doc and started climbing the nearest tree. 

“What are you doing?” The scientist asked. 

“I did some gliding before from high places so it seems like a good place to start.” Grian replied, pulling himself on top of a branch. 

“But you could fall and hurt yourself.” Doc countered, moving closer as if he planned to catch Grian. 

“I’m just going to give it a try, okay?” He crouched down on the branch, reading his wings in preparation. Then with a deep breath, he launched himself into the air. 

Doc made a surprised sound, lunging forward with his arms out. But Grian’s wings caught the air and he easily floated down. 

Doc let out a shaky breath. “Wow Grian, you’ve got to give me some warning next time man.” 

The avian laughed. “Now we do it all over again!” 

And so they spent the afternoon slowly building up from gliding. Grian jumped off of high branches, beating his wings in various ways to try and gain some height. Each time he succeeded just a little bit more. 

Doc stood nervously nearby, ready to jump forwards and catch Grian if he fell. The bird brain instincts loved the knowledge that they were protected  and cared for. It became harder and harder for Grian to both focus on flying and squash down unwanted thoughts. 

Finally, he found a rhythm to flapping his wings and gliding through the air that worked for him. Grian let out a whoop as he shot up into the sky, soaring in a circle over the tops of the trees. Down below, Doc was a green and gray blob that almost blended into the color of the trees. The creeper man yelled something, up at him, but it was lost in the wind rushing through his ears. 

Happy tears sprung to Grian’s eyes, his very nerves felt alive with joy. Now at least part of his instincts were satisfied. 

Unbidden, the other half overwhelmed him. Grian tilted back towards the ground in a near-dive, swooping down towards Doc. 

In the few moments it took for him to reach the creeper man, Doc went from joyous, to confused, to understanding, lifting his robotic arm for Grian to land on. Grian flared his wings and extended his taloned feet, neatly stopping midair and perching on the proffered arm. 

Then without a care in the world, he chirped “ flock!” At Doc, and knocked their foreheads together. 

Doc stared at him, startled and confused. “I’m happy for you too? That flying was amazing, you really picked it up fast.” 

Grian bobbed his head, still unable to speak. But he did remember what he flew down so fast for. 

“So are your instincts satisfied?” Doc asked. 

The avian held up one finger. 

“One more thing?” Doc guessed correctly. 

Grian nodded again and hopped off of Doc’s arm. He took the man’s other hand and started dragging him excitedly back towards the house. Well, more like he yanked on Doc’s arm and he obliged. 

Once inside, Grian directed Doc to sit on the couch. Then he began rearranging the room. He closed the curtains, grabbed some pillows and blankets from his nest, and constructed a smaller nest right in front of the couch. 

“Grian, are you okay? What’s going on?” Doc asked, looking more and more concerned by the second. 

Grian’s ear feathers lowered shyly. “Well, my instincts seem to trust you now…” Doc perked up noticeably. “...and apparently something that comes with being an avian is the need to keep our wings in order. But I don’t really know how, so I just thought, y’know…”

“You want me to help you preen your wings?” Doc said incredulously. 

“Yes?” Grian replied hesitantly. 

“Are you sure? I could accidentally hurt you.” Doc looked down at his robotic arm. 

“I’m sure.” Grian took a deep breath. “I want you to, actually. I think you’d be good at it, and it would help me a lot.” 

“Okay, I guess I’ll try my best.” 

“Great!” Grian plopped down with his back to him on the floor, extending his wings. 

Doc shifted. “Here, this might be easier.” He slid off the couch and into the makeshift nest next to Grian. 

The avian chirped in reply, turning so that his back was once again facing him. 

“What should I do?” Doc asked. 

“Well, they need to be in order, all the feathers going in the same direction. And the feathers themselves have rows of hooks to keep them together, so you need to smooth those out too. Plus there’s dirt and stuff stuck in there that I would like out.” 

Doc huffed a laugh. “This is definitely harder than braiding hair.” He hesitantly touched the top edge of Grian’s wing with his non-robotic hand. 

Grian hummed and pressed the wing up into the touch. “Have you braided your hair before?” 

Doc slowly combed down the feathers with his fingers, aligning them. “Not my own. My…best friend kept his hair long and I did it for him sometimes.” 

The avian chirped again at the satisfaction of finally relieving some of the itchiness in his wings. “You sound so sad,” he murmured. “What even happened to you?” 

Doc froze for a moment, but continued to preen when Grian gave a disgruntled warble. “Well I didn’t always look like this, I used to be human in fact.” 

“Me too.” 

“Yeah I figured.” 

Grian felt like his brain was melting, unbearably pleased as Doc continued to tease his feathers back into shape. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“It’s a long story, and not a very fun one.” 

“You don’t have to tell me, but–” Grian trilled as Doc gently removed a broken feather that had been poking him for days. “–I think you might feel better if you tell someone.” 

Doc sighed. “I guess I could tell you some of it, if you really want me to.” 

“Please.” 

“It started many years ago, too many for me to even remember. The world was very different, much more advanced. There were redstone machines more complicated and brilliant than anything else in the world. They were more powerful than nature itself.” 

Grian warbled, relaxing into his nest. Doc gently scratched at the base of his wing and he nearly collapsed sideways. 

“There was an empire, so vast and greedy that it threatened to swallow the world. And there were wars, so many wars. Nowadays I don’t even remember what we were fighting for!” Doc breathed deep, dispelling his anger at the memory. 

“Go on.” Grian prompted sleepily. 

“I was a scientist hired by the army. I wanted to be a redstone engineer but they had plenty already, all much more skilled than me. So I started as a medic, working on new medicines to help soldiers heal faster. My team invented many of the potions people still use today.” 

Doc had finished preening one wing, and Grian let it droop down. He also flopped forward bonelessly into his nest. “Keep going, both the story and the preening.” 

“I became a weapons designer. Most of the artillery was redstone, but the empire was cruel. They wanted biological weapons as well. So I turned to creepers. I studied how they worked, how they could move silently until it was time to attack. How their gunpowder cores functioned. And most importantly, how they seemed to live forever, not needing food or water. They only died when provoked into exploding.” 

“Wow, I didn’t know creepers were like that.” Grian commented from his face-down position on the floor. Doc plucked an errant twig from the feathers and grinned as Grian chirped happily. 

“They truly are amazing creatures. At a certain point in my studies, I nearly died on the battlefield. They had called me in as part of the emergency reserves, even though I had no experience with combat. I only survived because my best friend was also a medic and knew a redstone engineer. He helped build my prosthetics and saved my life.” 

Grian hummed. “What was his name again?” 

“I never told you. His name was Ren. He was the most amazing person I had ever known.” 

“Did he die?” 

“No, not back then at least. What happened was that after I had healed I became obsessed with my studies. I was convinced that I could save us all from an untimely death. But the empire thought my theories were useless. I was told to destroy my experiments or face public execution for wasting resources.” 

“Harsh.” Grian commented mildly. 

“Yeah, that was when I realized I was on the wrong side of the war. I really should have realized sooner, but I was told at every turn that every cruelty was for the greater good. In the end, I didn’t destroy my unfinished experiment.” 

“What did you do?” Grian yawned. 

“I enchanted myself. I bonded my essence with creeper dna, making myself an artificial hybrid.” 

“And did the empire try to kill you?” 

Doc frowned. “I think that’s enough for now. I said I would only tell you a bit.” 

He finished straightening the last few feathers on Grian’s wing. The avian sighed, shifting so that he was curled comfortably on his side. “That was really awful what happened to you, Doc. For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re a monster. You’re just a guy, just like everybody else. It’s the system that failed you that is the problem. You trusted them and they hurt you.”

“Thank you, Grian. You’re not so pesky after all.” 

Grian chirped at him one more time and promptly fell asleep. 

Chapter Text

The sun slowly rose outside the living room window, illuminating a wide-awake Doc sprawled out on the floor with a fast asleep bird man curled up on top of him. The top half of Grian’s body rested on Doc’s chest, his knees curled into the man’s side. One wing also stretched out to cover even more of him.

Doc watched the sun rise, having slept fitfully through the night, unable to stop thinking about what Grian had said. He’d expected the bird man to react badly upon being told about the horrors in his past, some of which he’d directly contributed to. But Grian had forgiven him so easily, and justified his actions as a result of an unfair system. 

Grian was right, Doc knew this in the most logical part of his mind. But even so, he couldn’t find it in himself to forgive his past actions so easily. He had helped create weapons that hurt thousands of people, and worse, he’d hurt Ren–

The bird laying on top of him shifted, stretching out like a cat and yawning. Doc let out a slow breath, trying to calm his anxiously racing heart. 

He was still an absolute monster in many ways, Doc told himself. The difference this time was that Grian was a monster as well, at least on the outside, so he understood. 

But Ren was a wolf hybrid. His traitorous memories reminded him. He should have helped you but instead he betrayed you and–

Doc covered his eyes with his hands, pressing down harshly. No, he was not going to think about this right now. He still had to take care of Grian, help him learn how to be an avian. Now was not the time to dig up old grievances on long dead friends. He could barely even picture what Ren looked like anymore. 

His chest tightened and tears sprung to his eyes though he didn’t know why. He just tried to breathe through it. 

By the time Grian wakes up, Doc has successfully shoved his past to the back of his mind. He goes through the motions of their morning routine, though now Grian insists on being as close as possible for all of it. He even perches on Doc’s shoulder for a little while. Doc writes it off as more strange avian instincts. It’s not like he doesn’t mind the company. 

Grian is seemingly lost in thought during breakfast, unusually quiet. Eventually though, he speaks up. “Thank you for telling me about your past last night.” 

“Was that what you’ve had on your mind all morning?” Doc replies with a smile. 

“Not entirely. I was thinking that it isn’t very fair that I know your past, but you don’t know mine.” 

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.” 

Grian shrugged. “It’s not a particularly tragic story, certainly not as traumatic as yours.” 

Doc’s smile faded. “Yeah well I can’t help being the best at everything.” 

“I won’t make you relive it again. Forget I said anything.” Grian waved emphatically. “Instead let me regale you with my life story!” 

“Okay then, go ahead.” 

Grian took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders and gazing off into the distance. “I was born in a humble village much like the one nearby. When I grew old enough I was apprenticed under my town’s Maker. This career is that of an all around craftsperson who is trained to handle any sort of technical task. They also craft tools and other objects to sell.” 

“Just one for the whole town?” 

“It’s a difficult career path! The Makers are a secretive group with deep traditions. They hail from the engineers of old, learning what they know from ancient ruins of massive machines.” Grian was practically standing as he gestured wildly. 

“Oh. I see.” 

“But I didn’t want to be a Maker. As I trained I realized that I’d rather travel the world than stay in one place deciphering the secrets of the past. So I became a traveling salesman and took my wares on the road.” 

“Which led you here?” 

“Exactly.” Grian leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. 

“I’m sorry about that by the way. You didn’t deserve what happened to you and I wish I could be more help–”

Grian cut him off. “None of that! There’s no need to feel guilty on my behalf. What’s done is done.” The avian stood up. “I was going to show you my skills at crafting in your workshop. C’mon, let’s stop dwelling on the past and have some fun.” 

Doc let him lead the way to the workshop. Grian’s story had shaken him a bit. He hadn’t really been keeping track of how much time had passed after the first few decades. Now he knew that the world regarded his time as ancient, and that they still hadn’t figured out how to replicate the war machines left behind. Doc couldn’t help but feel some relief at that last fact. He suspected the empire had fallen long ago, but this further confirmed it. 

Now if only the horrors in his memories could be buried as easily. 

Grian picked up some spare parts in the workshop, excitedly rambling about what he was making. Doc sat down to watch, smiling at the avian’s excitement. It was a far cry from when they had first met, and he was happy to see that Grian was comfortable enough to be around him. 

“--and this is the hard part, because it’s so small. But I learned this trick where you–” Grian explained, showing how he threaded a miniscule wire through a gap. 

Doc nodded, genuinely interested in what the avian had to show him. 

“See! And now it lights up!” Grian turned to Doc, beaming. 

“It looks great Grian. You’re really good at this.” 

“I should be, it’s kinda my life’s purpose.” Grian's smile turned sad. “That's all I know how to do. It’s who I am–” 

He cut off with a gasp. 

“Grian?” Doc said quietly. 

The avian’s eyes widened, his expression turning horrified. Then his eyes began to glow a searing purple. The room filled with thick shadows that even Doc’s night vision on his cybernetic eye couldn’t see through. Grian’s wings spread, the massive eye spots also glowing. 

“What’s happening?” Doc yelled. 

Grian turned to him and screamed, standing up and backing away as if Doc was posing a threat to him. But that couldn’t be right, Grian trusted him now. 

Doc started to call his name again, but the aivan flinched violently. In a blink he was turning and sprinting out of the room. 

“Wait!” Doc called after him, scrambling to catch up. 

With an eerie sense of deja vu, Doc chased after his friend. Grian tore through the house ahead of him, bursting out the front door towards the woods. 

Doc didn’t know why he was so afraid, but in the back of his mind he couldn’t help but compare it to events in his past. Just when he got close to someone they turned on him, abandoned him. 

Grian was running towards the village, boosting into the air and gliding back down in order to stay ahead of Doc. His feathers were much darker than before, looking like pieces of void cut from the night sky. The purple eye spots taunted Doc, judging him as he barreled through the woods. 

“I’m sorry Grian!” Doc called desperately. “What did I do wrong?” he added, mostly to himself. 

Grian didn’t even look back as he sprinted even faster towards where the woods ended. He didn’t care. He was leaving Doc because Doc wasn’t good enough, would never be good enough. At least that’s what Doc told himself. 

Doc stopped dead. If Grian wasn’t even going to hear him out, then there was no point in chasing after him. He would just have to fend for himself against the angry villagers. Doc turned around and slowly began walking back to his house. 

From behind him came a shrill avian shriek of pure terror. It shot like an arrow through Doc’s heart and he froze. 

Doc grit his teeth. Grian had abandoned him, and had seen him as nothing but a monster. But Doc had made a promise to protect him. And no one was allowed to hurt those he’d sworn to protect. Especially not his friend. 

Overcome with rage, he slammed his metal fist straight through the trunk of the nearest tree. He huffed out a breath of gunpowder and steam as he pulled his hand free. Those foolish villagers didn’t know who they were messing with. They were about to feel the wrath of Doc the Monster.

Chapter Text

It was a trap. Of course it was a trap. 

Grian screamed as he snapped out of the terrified haze that had sent him sprinting straight into danger. The runes on the ground were glowing with the same burning purple as his wings, and they froze him to the spot, locking him in place as securely as a net. 

Grian glared at the village elder as the man approached, a smug smile plastered on his face. “Hello again, beast.” 

Grian flexed his jaw, trying to speak. But the magic wired his mouth shut and he could only growl in frustration. 

The elder continued. “I wish we could slay you now, but unfortunately there is something else that requires your presence. Come along now.” 

The cleric that had set the trap waved her hands, jerking Grian along like a cross between a puppet and a prisoner. They passed through the gate into the village, where a crowd had gathered at the center. They parted to make room and Grian stared in shock at what they had been blocking from view. 

There in the center of the village was a pitch black hole in the ground. It was so dark that the colors around it seemed to warp towards it. From the void came a cacophony of whispers, piercing into Grian’s mind like thousands of needles. 

Return to us, my child

Be one with the void!

Leave the mortal realm! 

Your true brethren await you

Join us! Join us! Join us! Join–

Grian gasped, fighting against the terrible urge to fling himself into the pit. 

“Our lovely cleric found a spell to send you back to the cursed void you came from, creature.” The village elder said. 

It was a mistake to gift you our powers

You have failed your mission

Return to us what is due! 

You will be absorbed! Back where you belong! 

“By sending you to the void, we shall forever rid this world of your evil!” The elder proclaimed. The rest of the village cheered. The children hid behind their parents, too frightened to watch. 

The cleric magicked Grian above the pit, and he stared down at it. His wings shuddered, leaning towards the deep black void. His mind was slipping, giving in to the endless pull of the void and its entities. 

For a moment more he struggles, pushing against the bonds. He tried to think of something, anything else. Doc, who was nowhere to be found. The peaceful forest was full of creepers. The sun, that hurt his eyes, wasn’t the void so much better…

No! He choked out a high chirp through barely parted lips. He had a flock! He had a family! 

But Doc hadn’t come after him. Doc wasn’t going to rescue him. There was nothing for him in this world. 

Grian slumped, utterly spent. The void was better for him, he should return to his true home. 

The magic bonds around him started to loosen, dropping him slowly into the pit. 

From the wall there was a loud crashing noise. Then a huge chunk cracked and fell inward, sending villagers scrambling out of the way. Grian lifted his head wearily. 

Doc, in all his monstrous glory, stepped through the hole he had made. He towered over the villagers, a cloud of steam puffing from his nostrils as he snarled at them. The people fled in every direction, scooping up their children and running towards the gate. Even the village elder turned tail at the sight, shoving others out of the way. 

The cleric’s concentration slipped. She turned to watch as Doc careened towards her at a terrifying speed. For a moment it looked like she might fight back, one hand lifting to cast more magic. Then her resolve broke and she dodged to the size, scrambling out of the way. 

Without the cleric, Grian was left to the mercy of gravity. “Grian!” Doc yelled, unable to reach him in time as he fell. 

The avian’s mind snapped to awareness at the shout, and his wings flared out. He started gliding, but the void would not let him go so easily. Black tendrils oozed out of the pit, reaching for him. 

Doc lunged forward, swooping Grian out of the air. He turned his back to the pit, the tendrils trying to grip his shoulders and pull him in. With an ear splitting roar, he dug his clawed feet into the ground and pulled himself free. 

The void hissed, a grating sound that filled the air. Wind picked up, a swirling rush that added to the pull of the void portal. 

Grian yelled over the noise, sheltered in Doc’s arms. “There has to be a way to close it!” 

“They were trying to sacrifice you right?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Then let’s give it a sacrifice.” Doc turned and lumbered out of the gate, where the villagers stood huddled against the wall. They screamed at the sight of him. “Don’t run! I only want your leader.” 

The village elder tried to elbow his way out of the crowd, but they grabbed him and yanked him to the front. “Please!” He pleaded. “I was only doing what I thought was right!” 

Doc looked at the other villagers. “Who here agrees with this man’s actions, step forward and I will spare him.” 

Not a single person broke from the crowd. One woman spoke up. “We all wanted to leave the monsters alone, but he forced us to follow his plans.” 

“I see. Sounds like the real monster was this lousy human.” Doc said with a hint of humor. “Us beasts will be glad to leave this settlement alone once the portal has been sealed. Peace be upon you.” 

Grian had migrated from his arms to his shoulder. “Peace.” 

Doc nodded once more, then took the elder by his arm, dragging him back into the village. The elder spat and screamed and protested, but his words were ignored. He only fell silent when they approached the pit. 

“What’s the matter?” Grian mocked, staring him down with a piercing gaze. “Not so fun to be the sacrifice, huh?” 

“I beg of you, please spare me. Show that you have some kindness in your heart.” 

Doc grinned down at him with a mouth full of razor sharp teeth. “This monster is a savage.” 

He shoved the elder, and the tendrils swallowed him up, cutting off his scream. The portal snapped shut with a boom. 

The silence after seemed to ring in Grian’s ears. He crouched, wrapping one wing around Doc’s head and curling close to his ear. “Can we go home now?” 

“Of course.” Doc murmured back. 

At home, he lets Grian down gently in the middle of the living room. Then he gathers every last pillow and blanket in the house and surrounds the avian with them. It’s not a fancy nest, but it has Grian’s instincts purring all the same. 

“Care to join me?” He asks, itching to have his flock safe in the nest. 

Doc twitches, looking nervous. “I’m sorry man, but my instincts are telling me to stand guard. I don’t want anything else to happen to you.”

“You can do that from the nest.” Grian replies grumpily. 

The creeper cyborg sighs. “Alright. But I’m going to watch the door.” 

“Fine by me.” Grian pats the space next to him invitingly. 

Doc settles down into the nest, sitting rigidly and crossing his arms. He stares at the door, cybernetic eye glowing red, presumably activating something extra. “Sleep well, Grian.” 

“Goodnight, my flock.” He curls up against Doc’s leg and passes out. 

The only way Doc knows peace that night is by the fact that he can feel each and every one of Grian’s breaths. The avian is pressed against him, and it’s a balm to his protective instincts to know that his herd is alive and well. Because that’s what Grian is to him now, herd. Or as the man himself put it, flock. 

It’s a strange feeling, being bonded to someone again. Doc likes it, but it also scares him. Losing Grian would be the end of the world. Which is why he intends for it to never happen. Though his creeper fueled immortality means it’s likely he’ll outlive the avian, he intends to extend that time as long as possible. Grian will not be absorbed by the void if he has anything to say about it. 

When the avian does finally wake up, he stares blankly at the ceiling for a few minutes before finally speaking. “Doc, am I an abomination?” 

“Why would you ask that?” 

“You saw that void portal! I’ve been cursed to be a creature of darkness, I can still feel it in the fiber of my being. I’m made up of some evil stuff.” 

“Nonsense. I’m a lab experiment gone wrong and you still said that I’m not a monster. Why would I tell you anything different about yourself? You were cursed, but that doesn’t mean you have to be like them. You can choose to live however you wish, regardless of the void.” 

Grian trembled slightly, tears streaming down his face. “I know you’re telling the truth but I still don’t believe you.” 

“Come here.” Doc said, gently scooping Grian up. The avian buried his face in Doc’s chest, sobbing. “That’s it, let it all out. Do you want me to fix your wings again? I’m sure it will make you feel better.” 

“Please.” Grian whispered in between sobs. 

“Hush now, just breathe.” Doc started to gently straighten out Grian’s feathers. “I care about you, and I will protect you for as long as I live. Nothing like last night will ever happen again.” He stroked the tiny feathers near the base of Grian’s wings and the avian sighed, relaxing against him. “Nothing can change this, not the cursed void, not your strange magic. Nothing.” Doc squeezed Grian in a tight hug. “I promise.” 

Grian sniffed, tears slowly subsiding. “Thank you. That means so much to me, you don’t even know.”

“I’m a mob hybrid too y’know. I know what it’s like to need the support of others like you. Until I met you I just had my herd of creepers.” 

“Doc?” 

“Yes?” 

“How do creepers tell each other that they’re family? Or herd or whatever.” 

Doc paused for a moment, thinking. “Well they don’t communicate like us, so the closest thing they have is a sound to locate other members of the herd. It sounds like this.” He made a clicking sound in the back of his throat, similar to the scraping of flint against steel. 

Grian’s face twisted with concentration. He clicked his tongue in an approximate imitation. 

The sound makes Doc’s instincts settle, the need to be on guard fading. He grins, and continues. “And when they call for each other the herd gathers together. They sit together and rest, knowing their family is safe.” 

“Are creepers nocturnal?” 

“They take turns napping and standing guard when they gather. The rest of their time is spend wandering, foraging for food.” 

“Can I meet your herd?” 

“Of course. They’re probably wondering where I’ve been all this time.” 

Together they go outside, walking to the edge of the clearing. Doc makes that same clicking noise over and over again. After a few minutes, the mottles green creatures begin to emerge from the shadows. 

One of the long-necked animals nudges Grian’s hand. He obliges, gently scratching its head. “Wow, they’re so friendly.” 

“They’ve been wanting to meet you. Apparently they’ve been curious about you ever since you got here.” Doc kneels on the ground, listening to the hisses and clicks of the creepers as they surround him. 

Grian sits beside him, and the creeper he was petting immediately climbs into his lap. He giggles and continues stroking its short fur. “So all creepers have a herd?” 

“Yes, it’s important for them to have each other. They can’t survive without a herd.” Doc frowns pensievely. 

Grian reaches out, taking Doc’s metal hand in his own. “I’m glad I met you, Doc. I’ve never had a friend like you before. But we’re more than friends, we’re flock, herd, family.” 

Doc gently squeezes Grian’s hand, the sensors on the prosthetic growing pleasantly warm. “We are. I promise to be the best flock I can be.” 

“I promise to be the best herd as well.” Grains smiles up at him, a subtle glow lighting up his eyes. 

Two savage monsters. A pair of ordinary people. One peaceful, loving family.