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It was supposed to be a normal patrol.
Just a lap around District 7, that was it. He was expecting to maybe catch some kids vandalizing a building. He’d been expecting to maybe see some crook trying to break into someone’s car. Maybe he’d even been expecting to encounter a minor villain of some kind and bring them in.
He hadn’t been expecting to come across a familiar, red cloaked vigilante standing at the edge of a building, feet far too close to the lip.
Wilbur had never been on the vigilante hunting team. That was saved for heroes like Dream and George and Sapnap, whose powers had always been just right for cases like that. No, Wilbur had always been a minor hero, doing the same work that the vigilantes did but underneath the government. Occasionally, he’d been called in to fight some villain or another, or rather, his phasing power would be used to evacuate the citizens that were around.
He’d come across the Scarlet Corvid twice before, both during evacuations. The first time, a minor villain with a fire ability had escalated a situation to the point where an entire block was on fire, leaving hundreds of people trapped. WIlbur had worked himself to the bone that day, phasing in and out of walls, dragging people out from beneath flaming rubble and choking on smoke as he tried to save as many people as he could.
He wasn’t really sure when the Scarlet Corvid had shown up. He remembered pulling a woman and her child out from beneath a fallen rafter, smoke clogging his lungs as he hauled them towards the exit. It was as he was doing so that he saw the Scarlet Corvid, wings spread wide to protect a group of children from falling chunks of debris. His feathers had been covered in soot, his suit equally stained, but he pushed forward, kicking down a half collapsed door and ushering the children out.
They came across each other a few more times from building to building, both with the same goal. Save as many people as possible. That day had been one of the longest days of Wilbur’s life, as even once the villain had been subdued, he wasn’t allowed to stop. He couldn’t stop. There were still people trapped, people who needed to be saved. He was one of the last heroes to be recalled, and as he’d been returning to the Tower, he saw the Scarlet Corvid limping away from the last building, wings dragging limply behind him as he left behind the scene of destruction.
The second time Wilbur had encountered the Scarlet Corvid had been during a major villain fight. He wasn’t really sure of the details, who’d they’d been fighting, why they were fighting, or what was going on, but he did know that the villain had earth shaping powers, and that they were devastating. Three buildings had been leveled, taking everyone inside down with them.
Wilbur had been inside one of the buildings, trying to convince the people inside to leave before things got nasty. He looked out the window, at the adjoining building, and saw the Scarlet Corvid through the window, gesturing frantically at the people inside, clearly urgent as he pointed down towards the street where the fight was happening.
That was the last thing Wilbur could remember before the only thing around him was rubble, crushing his chest, his arms, his legs, his head, grinding against him, preventing him from breathing, from moving, from doing anything to help himself. He’d laid there, panicking, for several moments before he remembered his power and phased into his incorporeal form, floating upwards through debris that piled so high it seemed endless.
There had been three survivors from the three buildings that had been leveled. Wilbur, a lady who’d taken cover beneath a desk and had waited 48 hours for rescue, and the Scarlet Corvid. They’d dragged the vigilante from the rubble, wings broken and feathers askew, barely conscious, and put him in an ambulance to the hospital. He managed to break the doors open and escape before they were able to get any details about their identity.
Wilbur had worried for three weeks whether or not he’d survived before Dream had come to the Tower with news that the Scarlet Corvid was alive and seemingly well, though not using his wings. Over the course of the next three months, Wilbur had sat and listened to each briefing as the vigilante hunters informed them of the Scarlet Corvid’s increasing health, until he was using his wings again and moving without any issues.
This was encounter number three. Wilbur had been out on patrol, expecting nothing but a few petty criminals, and the Scarlet Corvid was standing on top of a very tall building, far too close to the edge for him to just be looking out over the city.
He couldn’t just stand by and watch what would come next.
“Hey.”
The vigilante’s head snapped up, and he took a step back from the edge of the roof out of reflex.
Wilbur held up his hands. “Easy, I’m not going to do anything. I’m not one of the Hunters.”
“You’re still allowed to bring me in.” The Scarlet Corvid replied. Dream had said that the vigilante sounded young in his briefings, he’d spoken about his concerns of the vigilante being underage, but to hear it in person…
“Yeah, but I won’t.” Wilbur stepped down onto the rooftop. “You shouldn’t stand so close to the edge. It’s dangerous.”
“Danger is my middle name.” The vigilante huffed in response, but he did take another step back.
“Somehow, I don’t believe that.” Wilbur extended a hand to shake. “I’m Blue, Evacuation and Patrol Unit.”
“Scarlet Corvid, vigilante.” He stepped over to shake his hand. “You sure you aren’t gonna arrest me?”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Wilbur promptly sat down, crossing his legs and leaning back on his hands. “You a fan of sunsets?”
“How’d you know that?” The vigilante’s goggles squinted at him, and Wilbur couldn’t help but laugh.
“Sorry, sorry, I just…your goggles! That’s brilliant!”
The Scarlet Corvid took a step back, then gave a short laugh. “Thanks, my friend made them for me. He’s a genius, you know. He’s part of the reason I like sunsets so much. We watch them together all the time.”
“What’s your favorite type of sunset?” Wilbur watched as the sun disappeared below the buildings, occasionally glancing up to where the vigilante stood, watching with him.
“What do you mean?” The Scarlet Corvid tilted his head to one side, and Wilbur had to bite back another laugh at how clearly it resembled his dad and the bird that he was named after.
“Well, I like it when the sky turns pink and purple because of the clouds reflecting the light.” Wilbur gestured to the rapidly dying sunlight, painting the sky in oranges and yellows. “Obviously, that’s not happening tonight, but it’s still pretty. So, what’s your favorite type of sunset?”
“Oh.” The vigilante abruptly dropped down into a sitting position next to him, wings awkwardly tucked behind his back so that they wouldn’t get in the way. “I like it when the sky looks like it’s on fire. Kinda like this, but more. When it’s all bright oranges and yellows.”
“Those are good too.” Wilbur nodded, then glanced at the ruffled mess of feathers sitting on the vigilante’s back. “When was the last time you preened?”
“What?” The Scarlet Corvid tilted his head to the side again, confused.
“Your wings, they’re…well, they’re a bit of a mess.” Wilbur gestured to them while still making an effort not to touch them. “My dad’s got wings as well, big black ones, and I’ve never seen them quite as ruffled as this.”
“Oh, well, I try to preen them often, but I miss the back bits a lot.” The vigilante admitted quietly, as though he were ashamed. “Tu--I mean, my friend tries to help me, but the way his fingers go through, it’s just…it doesn’t feel right. It makes shivers go down my spine and such, you know?”
“Ah, I see.” Wilbur nodded again. “It was like that with my dad before, until I learned how to do it properly. Can I…?”
The Scarlet Corvid stared at him for a long moment, then spoke. “This isn’t a trick, is it? You’re not going to like…rip my wings off or something?”
“What?” Wilbur stared at him incredulously. “No, of course not! That’s…that’s awful!”
“Okay, good.” The vigilante gave him one last suspicious look before unfurling his wings. “You try anything and I’ll shank you.”
“Noted.” Wilbur carefully reached forward to the middle of the vigilante’s back, where the wings met. That was where the feathers were messed up the worst, overlapping and bent, folding in on themselves. Taking his time, he began to pick out the loose feathers, putting them in a pile next to him as he went.
As he made his way through the mess of feathers, he noticed that the vigilante was beginning to sag, muscles relaxing and shoulders slumping. This time, he couldn’t hold back on the smile that spread across his face as he fixed the row of feathers and moved on to the next, working his way outwards.
“I…I think I was going to jump.” The Scarlet Corvid admitted in a whisper. “I didn’t…I didn’t really want to, but…I didn’t not want to either.”
“...why?” Wilbur asked hesitantly, his fingers still working their way through the wings.
“Things…haven’t been good.” The vigilante leaned back into his touch, seeking comfort that Wilbur was happy to give. “It’s really hard to save people when you’re being hunted every second of the day. And…well…I…I killed someone yesterday.”
Wilbur froze.
“It wasn’t on purpose!” The vigilante quickly backtracked. “It wasn’t even supposed to be…it wasn’t…he was hurting a kid, he was…I just kind of…blacked out, I guess. Next thing I know, I’m flying the kid out and there’s a body in the street, and--”
“Oh.” Wilbur’s fingers unstuck and continued working their way through the wings. “I…listen. I’ve killed people too. I’ve failed to save…so many people. I told you I was on the Evacuation crew, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I’ve failed to evacuate hundreds of people.” Wilbur tossed away a broken feather, his voice slightly shaking as he spoke. “I’ve…I’ve blamed myself for a lot of deaths. But…sometimes you have to think about the smaller picture, rather than the bigger one. I may have failed to save a hundred people, but I still saved one. I still rescued one person, and you can bet they were grateful for it. You saved that kid, and who knows how many more people, by killing that guy. I’m not saying murder is good, but sometimes it’s necessary.”
“Wow. You have a weird philosophy for a hero.” The Scarlet Corvid hummed. “But…thank you.”
Wilbur smoothed down the feathers on the left wing, now orderly and in place. “Of course, man. And…I know it might seem weird, or suspicious, or whatever, but if you need to talk to someone, or just for someone to preen your wings again, I’m fine with that. I mean, I’m a hero, it’s kind of what I do.”
“I don’t recall heroes helping vigilantes out.” He retorted, but Wilbur could hear the gratitude in his voice.
“Just don’t jump off of any buildings without the intention to use your wings, Scarlet Corvid.” He replied easily.
“I won’t.” The vigilante tapped his fingers lightly on his knee. “And Scarlet Corvid is such a long name to use in conversation. Call me…uh…Mellohi.”
“Mellohi it is.” Wilbur finished up the right wing and let his hands drop to his lap. He’d barely been able to see the wing, what with the sunlight basically gone, and he was late for check in at the Tower, but he could wiggle his way out of that one.
“I should…I should go back home.” Mellohi got to his feet, brushing feathers out of his lap. “My friends will be waiting for me, and if I stay out too long without checking in, they get worried.”
“Alright.” Wilbur got to his feet as well, picking red feathers out of his uniform before pulling out a note card and pen from his pocket and scribbling down his phone number. “Here, for when you need another preening.”
“Oh, uh, thanks.” Mellohi took the card and tucked it away in his belt. “You should probably get back to the Tower, your shift is probably well over.”
“Probably.” Wilbur turned around to look at the shining pillar of a building set in the center of the city, glowing like a beacon to those living there. When he turned back around, the Scarlet Corvid was gone, leaving behind only loose feathers.
Wilbur smiled, then phased through the floor, walking through the air towards the Tower. He’d have a lot of explaining to do, but in the end, it was worth it.
He couldn’t wait to meet with the vigilante again.