Chapter Text
He wakes up.
It isn't that he doesn't expect to, after what Esther did. He had known, somewhat distantly, that the form he was in was temporary, and destroying it would just revert him back to his crow self — is that something he knows because she told him? or because that kind of magic is so innate he could simply feel it? — but that isn't what surprises him, when he opens his eyes.
What surprises him is that he's lying on the floor of the dark forest. And he's still human.
Monty sits up slowly, listening out for sounds around him, in case Esther is near, or the Cat King, or—
Edwin.
How long has he been unconscious for?! Edwin could be in danger! Or worse, already dead. Dead er than dead. There's no sign of Esther, no way to tell if he's too late or just in time or where to go, even, but Monty still jumps up and runs, hoping he's heading in the right direction.
Hearing as human-dull as ever, it must be only by some miracle that he hears the voices as he careens through the dark trees, leaping past some bushes and crashing right into the cluster of three bodies in the open glade, talking together in the night.
"Edwin?! Edwin! You're alive! Well not alive, but you—she's going to try and hurt you all, you have to get out of here, I'm sorry I lied about it, but—"
"Monty! It's alright, we dealt with her already," Edwin interrupts, face stony but hands still kind — always kind — when he pushes Monty off him. Monty looks around to see both Crystal and Charles looking harried but confident, and increasingly distrustful. Charles blinks once and anger creeps over his face, enough to make Monty shiver, wrap his arms around himself, and take another little step away from them all. "No thanks to you, though, I must say. Unless I should thank you for luring us into a trap your witch mistress set, just so we could finally get rid of her."
There’s an audible reaction from the other two, but Monty can’t focus on them just yet. He looks back at Edwin, brows pinched together, the guilt cooling him right down to his stomach. "Edwin, I'm sorry. It really wasn't... I didn't know her plan, not really, and when I kissed you—"
"Excuse me?"
"You did what to him?"
Crystal and Charles react at the same time. Charles takes a step towards his friend and reaches for his bag, discarded on the ground. Monty ducks his head. How does he manage to keep saying exactly the wrong thing to explain himself? He just wants to explain.
"I think you'd better go mate, and not follow us, if you don't want to end up just like Esther," Charles continues. Edwin doesn't say anything, but he doesn't shy away from Monty's searching eyes, his silent pleading for mercy. He just looks right back at Monty balefully.
"You're a bloody crow!" echoes in his memories. Right alongside all the pretty things Edwin had said about feelings, feelings for someone that definitely wasn't Monty.
“I wasn’t talking about… you.”
It's amazing how those words can still sting like the first time he'd heard them, back on that swingset, floating higher than he's ever flown before on the bright feeling of a kiss.
"You heard him, leave." Crystal adds her own threat, fists clenching as she moves to stand beside Charles, a united front. United against him. There's nothing he can do here to fix anything, and the swirling emotions of teenage human boyhood threaten to drown him where he stands, so in the tradition of heartbroken teenagers throughout all of history, Monty stifles a sob, turns, and flees the scene.
As the wind rushes past and his chest aches with a horrible hollow feeling, he's fairly sure he hears a familiar feline chuckle follow him into the trees.