Chapter Text
Monty thought he knew pain. He felt it when Esther smacked him with the end of her cane. He felt it again when she had ripped him apart piece by piece, pulling sinew-covered bones from his feathered chest. He even felt it when he was human and Edwin had explained that he didn’t love him. That was a weird kind of pain he still didn’t really understand, but it hurt nonetheless.
But this pain, this was the most excruciating, unbearable pain he had ever felt in both his bird and human life. He couldn’t escape it. It felt like he was being split down the middle with an axe that poured liquid fire into his veins with each squelching cut. It burned. It ached. It felt like every bone in his body had been broken and now was being forced back together at all the wrong angles. He wanted to scream. His limbs vibrated with the urge to fly away. But everything felt strange. His wings had been broken. Or maybe warped. Whatever it was, he knew something was very wrong.
He writhed on the dirty ground with eyes pressed shut. He had no idea where he was. He had no idea what was causing him so much agony. He had to be in Hell. That was the only idea that made sense. After he escaped from Esther’s house he must have been killed, and now was destined to suffer forever because of what he did for Esther. He’d seen all those little girls come into the house and did nothing to help them. He let them be led into the cupboard and the mouth of that horrid snake. He didn’t really have a choice, of course, Esther would have killed him, but it didn’t stop the shame from clawing its way down his throat and settling in the pit of his stomach. It was all his fault. Everything. At least that made the torment easier to bear knowing he deserved it.
“The least I could get is a thank you.” A sing-song voice interrupted his train of thought, just barely piercing through the haze in his mind. Monty cracked one eye open, then the other. The world was fuzzy and grey. But even blinded by pain, Monty could make out two yellow eyes peering down at him.
“Huh?” His lips moved on their own accord. His throat burned. Did he have lips or a beak? He couldn’t tell.
“Honestly, I do one nice thing out of the goodness of my heart. And I don’t even get any thanks for it.”
Monty’s head lolled to the side. His blurry vision was beginning to clear enough for him to see a pale, unblemished arm outstretched where his wing should’ve been. Experimentally, he tried to wiggle the fingers with the meager strength he was able to muster. They ached, but moved. He could control them.
He couldn’t help it when his lips curled up in a small smile. He was human again. And judging by the state of his arm, this pain was not his own. There wasn’t a single scratch on him. He was free… or as free as a familiar could get.
He hadn’t realized how badly he wanted to be human until he got a taste of it. It was confusing, sure, but he loved every second of it. He loved going to the library and checking out books about the stars. He loved going for walks with Edwin and watching those silly shows Niko told him about. He even loved all the emotions he felt, no matter how ugly they were. And once it was all ripped away from him, the only thing he wanted in the world was to get it all back. He thought that by helping Charles with the iron collar, the detectives would decide to make him human again. He was their friend after all. They would forgive him for what he had done. It was a selfish, foolish thought. He didn’t deserve to be helped after what he had done to them. But that didn’t stop Monty from wanting. Even in his tiny bird brain, his mind could grasp onto that feeling so fiercely that it nearly left him trembling.
Want.
He was human now though and he was still trembling. He couldn’t tell if it was in a human’s nature or a crow’s to want more. Regardless, he felt that yearning ache in his stomach again, almost more than he felt the vibrating pain in his limbs. He wanted to be truly, completely free.
“Whatever, it's fine. Finally getting a break from your endless squawking is thanks enough.” The Cat King said with a wave of his hand. “Seriously, the mouth on you. Didn’t think a crow could scream that much. All I wanted was a cat nap and you just wouldn’t give it up.”
Monty didn’t remember screaming or squawking or whatever the Cat King said he was doing. He didn’t remember ending up at the Cat King’s warehouse. Time moved differently when he was a crow, and the only thing he had really been aware of was the pain. He wasn’t even sure what day it was. Had Edwin and Charles already left now that Esther was gone?
A sharp pain in his leg reminded Monty that she wasn’t really gone. The detectives might have defeated her, but she was still alive out there somewhere… at least for now.
He sat up, ignoring how his body protested the movement.
“How long…?” He struggled to ask, the words grating against his throat. He barely made a sound, but the Cat King seemed to understand.
“Great, he speaks. Listen, Monty, you were perched outside my warehouse for days just… squawk, squawk, squawk,” The Cat King said, mimicking a bird’s call in a terribly high whine. “I have my cats bring you in, I turn you human, and it’s another two days of screaming. Seriously, I was this close to throwing you into the ocean. You’re lucky I’m a kind Cat King.”
Though he was complaining, the Cat King didn’t seem all that upset. He smiled, white teeth glinting in the low light of the warehouse. He ran his tongue along his top teeth as he stared down at Monty, yellow eyes sparkling with amusement. He was having fun. Cats always toyed with their prey. And Monty was prey, wasn't he?
“I’m sorry,” Monty said. He dipped his head down, speaking quietly to the concrete floor. It was how he apologized to Esther when he did something wrong. “Thank you,” he added.
The Cat King scoffed. He wandered back to his throne, a crude array of wooden planks and pallets. They were half rotten and cracked, reeking of seawater and covered in cat hair. To the unassuming eye, it just looked like a pile of junk. But Monty knew better. It was a symbol of power, and the Cat King was now the most powerful person in Port Townsend.
“Yeah, okay.” He sat down with arms crossed over his chest. “Now get out of here. I have no use for you and you’ve overstayed your welcome.”
Monty nodded. He pushed himself up to stand on unsteady legs. His entire body ached but he found he was able to put one foot in front of the other without toppling over. He staggered towards the door, using the various pallets and boxes scattered around the warehouse to keep him upright. Cats scratched at his ankles and hissed as he passed, but didn’t dare look away from the door.
“And Monty, if I ever find you or that bitch owner of yours back here again, I will gut you and feed you to my cats.” That Cat King smirked at him. “Toodles!”