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Colt’s snores are about what she expects when she wakes up.
Jody’s eyes fluttered open, and she’s met with him lying on his stomach (he’s been doing that a lot recently), one arm slung over her torso, holding her in place, and his head turned to face her, cheek smushed into the pillow. His hair falling over his eyes. Her heart swelled at the sight. He’s adorable like this, relaxed, content. Jody reached out, brushing some of the hair out of his eyes, smiling as he let out a soft hum at the contact. His arm tightened around her waist, tugging her slightly closer.
Her hand moved slightly lower, brushing over his back only for his face to contort. Jody pulled her hand away almost like she’d been burned, watching as he buried his face into the pillow, his other hand coming up to tighten in the sheets. His breathing seemed to pick up, faster, shallower.
She gingerly lifted his arm, slipping out of their bed. He must’ve still been deep in sleep because, unlike usual, he didn’t loosely cling to her arm and groggily ask her not to leave. Jody frowned, brow furrowed as she fought the urge to reach out to him again, especially as she watched his back twitch as his hand twisted in the sheets.
A jingling cut through the silence as Jean-Claude looked up from his bed, head cocked to the side. Colt had, uncharacteristically, not been letting him curl up at their feet like usual, instead having him sleep on the plush bed they kept in the corner. She looked back at her boyfriend, then back at the canine. “I dunno,” she murmured, tapping her foot on the ground. “He’s acting weird, right?”
Jean-Claude whined a little, which Jody took to mean a yes. Colt was normally up earlier, taking the Kelpie out for a few miles of a run for “breed enrichment,” as Colt called it. In the past few weeks, those runs had been becoming less and less common, while Colt slept in later and later. Jody bit her lip. “I can’t do everything he’d do, but how’d you feel about a walk?”
“See Colt,” Tom drawled, crouching down in front of him with a predatory smile that sent shivers running down his spine. “I had an old buddy pull some medical records from that little hospital stay eighteen months ago.”
“That’s illegal,” Colt deadpanned, trying to ignore the way his blood ran cold. “But I mean, when have you ever cared for legality. The recreational drugs, workplace harassment laws, murder, apparently.”
Tom rolled his eyes, standing up and walking around to the back of the chair he was tied to. Colt felt the hairs of the back of his neck stand on end as the actor’s fingers trailed down his spine, drifting away slightly as he found what he was looking for. Colt tried to arch his back to escape the touch, only for Dressler and one of the other goons to hold him in place.
“How long have you been hiding those, Seavers?”
“None of your goddamn business,” he hissed as Tom’s fingers kept brushing over that spot. Not on his back. God, Colt wished it was just his back.
“They’re sensitive, aren’t they?”
“Fuck off,” he growled, trying to jerk himself away.
“I hear they are. I’ve slept with a few whores that had ‘em, one of the dudes made the prettiest little sounds when I touched them.”
“I’m not a fucking hooker, Tom,” he snapped, biting back a yelp as Tom’s nails dug through the leather of his Miami Vice jacket, trapping a single feather and tugging on it. Tom smirked, nodding to Dressler, who forced the stuntman to his feet as other goons came around to remove his jacket, with one of them slicing through his T-shirt, leaving him exposed to the cool night air around them.
Tom tilted his head to the side, running a finger over the bend poking out of the bindings around Colt’s chest and back. “Doesn’t it hurt?” He asked as Colt shuddered beneath them. “Keeping ‘em wrapped up like this?”
“Since when do you give a shit?”
He looked over Colt’s shoulder, nodding at the goon that had sliced off his shirt. His blade glinted in the low light of the docks, and Colt bit the inside of his cheek to keep from making a sound as the blade was dragged down over the bindings across his chest, nanometers from his skin.
The fabric was shed quickly, and Colt couldn’t fight the tear that slipped down the side of his face, carving through the dirt and grime as Tom’s hands ran over the edge of one of the golden-brown wings on his back. He hated how gentle the touch was, almost curious, almost reverent, but he could feel the tension; that one wrong twitch meant nails digging into his feathers.
“Really keeping these pretty things all to yourself?” Tom murmured as another pair of goons marched over, wrenching the wings open as Colt yelped in pain. “You really could’ve looked into another career path with these things. Could’ve made a killing with your looks and these.”
“Not sure I’m gonna take career advice from a wannabe Bond villain that dresses like a highlighter.”
Tom clicked his tongue disapprovingly, looking at some of the goons. “Hold him down,” he ordered as Colt’s eyes widened in horror. He felt the actor's fingers brush over the feathers, and Colt twitched away from it involuntarily, only for the goon on that wing to tighten his hold, drawing another yelp from him.
“Tom,” Colt pleaded. “Tom, don’t.” He felt a shiver run down his spine as Tom’s hands slowed, tracing the rachis of one of his feathers. “Please, Tom, please don’t-” He felt the fingers tighten around the feather, and a burst of pain exploded behind his eyes. “FUCK!” He screamed, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes as his body shuddered.
“They’re so soft,” Tom said softly, running his fingers up and down the barbs as he twirled the feather in his fingers. Colt tried to look away, only for Tom to grab his chin harshly, brushing the feather along his tear-stained cheek. “You ever felt one?”
“They’re attached to me, you piece of shit.”
“So pretty too,” he continued, as though Colt never spoke. “Should’ve taken a few of these for that time they had me in a pair for that red carpet.”
“Not a fucking fashion accesor- SHIT!” He shrieked as Tom ripped another feather from his other wing. Colt ducked his head as Tom set the feather down on the ground next to him. “Do you know what a fucking nerve ending is? Jesus fuck.”
Tom smirked again, petting the inside of Colt’s wings as he shuddered away from him. “I heard that releases some sort of hormones, right?”
“For birds, dumbass,” Colt huffed, wincing as he continued tracing over the wings. “Though I wouldn’t expect your porn to be scientifically accurate.”
“Too bad, you’d look pretty in a cage.”
Colt rolled his eyes, shuddering as Dressler traced over the edge of one of the wings. He snapped at him, nearly snarling as one of the other goons tightened their hold on him. “So what are we doing here, Tom? Is this like some fucked up fantasy I’m being made to participate in or what’s going- JESUS CHRIST!”
Tom smirked, brushing the newest feather over Colt’s nose and tapping the end with it. “Where’s the phone, Colt?” He asked, sickly sweet as he brought the feather down to trace Colt’s jaw.
“I don’t have it, Tom. I- MOTHERFUCKER!”
“Wrong answer,” he sang, reaching for another feather as he discarded the two in his hand. “Where is it, Colt?”
Colt shook his head, yelping as Tom yanked another feather free. “I don’t, son of a bitch, I don’t have-” his voice cracked on another yelp, a cry ripping itself from his throat as Tom yanked out two at once. “I don’t have it, Tom,” he panted, forcing back a sob. “I don’t- I don’t have- I don’t have it, please. Please, I don’t-”
Dressler and Tom glanced at each other, both yanking a handful of feathers from his wings as Colt’s mouth fell open in a silent scream. Tom forced his chin back up, making eye contact with the stuntman. “We can keep going,” he said, swiping a feather over a tear tracking down his cheek.
“I don’t have the phone, Tom, I swear,” he begged, choking back a sob. “I don’t have it. You’re fine, you’re in the clear, I won’t- I won’t say anything, I-”
He stared at the mirror, digging the palms of his hands into the edge of the countertop. He twitched one of the wings, wincing at the pain as he tried to open one of them. “Fuck,” he grumbled, ducking his head as he reached over to turn on the shower.
“Colt?”
His head perked up at the sound of Jody’s voice, staring over at the door. He frowned at the knob as he heard her footsteps grow closer. “I’m fine,” he called, waiting to hear if she kept moving, making a small noise as he twisted his back wrong. “Just showering.”
He heard a few more steps and flinched away from the door, almost sensing her on the other side. “You doing okay?” She asked, and Colt felt the ache from his tender wings radiate through his body. “Can I come in?”
“I’m okay, Jodes,” he answered. “I’m just like… tired; didn’t sleep well.”
“I figured,” she said, and Colt heard a soft thud as she pressed her back against the door. “You want my help?”
He grimaced, trying not to imagine the feeling of her hands gently massaging his scalp. “I’m okay,” he assured her, breathing in the steam from the shower, feeling his muscles relax, wings twitching every so often. “Oh fuck,” he whispered, wincing weakly.
“Colt,” she said again, the knob twisting slightly, and he hurriedly grabbed his bathrobe that she’d bought him, pulling it over his shoulders to cover his wings. He mussed his hair a bit as the door cracked open, Jody poking her head through. “You decent?”
“Yeah,” he croaked as she fully opened the door, her eyes coming to rest on her face.
She took a step forward, cupping her face in his hands. “Bad pain day?”
“What gave you that impression?”
“I uh, I think I ran my hand over your back while you were sleeping and you kinda-” he grimaced, feeling the ghost of a hand that wasn’t Jody’s run over the edge of his wings- “I dunno, tensed up a bit? Like you uh, like you-”
“Yeah,” he sighed. “Nightmare. Mine was uh, mine was pretty bad last night.”
“You wanna talk about it?”
“It wouldn’t make sense.”
One of her hands slid down to his arm, and she squeezed gently. “Tell me about it anyway?”
“Jodes-”
“You did promise,” she murmured as he leaned against her palm. “We both promised. We’re gonna tell each other everything. No more pretending that you’re fine when you’re not, remember? No more thumbs up when you’re really thumbs down.”
He looked away. “Jody.”
“I want to be there for you,” she whispered. “Please let me be here for you.”
“I don’t know if I’m ready,” he admitted, kissing her forehead. “I- I know you wanna be there for me but I- Jody, this is…” he sucked in a breath as she tried to move her hand down to brush over what she almost definitely thought was his back, and he flinched away, stepping out of her embrace. “This is…bigger than- than anything I’ve-” he sniffed, looking pointedly at the ground- “I’m not- I don’t know how you’re gonna take this, and I’m not-”
“Hey,” she whispered. “Hey, hey, hey. I’m not going anywhere; I just want to make sure that you’re okay.”
“I’m okay, I promise. I just-” he squeezed his eyes shut- “I’m not ready.”
“Was it about Australia?” She asked softly, squeezing his hand. “I know that you-”
“It’s more than that,” he admitted, trying to tug his hand free, only for Jody’s grip to tighten on him. “It’s more than that, but it’s…it’s a lot.”
“You’ll tell me though? When you’re ready?”
“It’s gonna take a while. I’ll try, but it’s- it’s gonna take a while.”
“I’ll be here when you’re ready,” she whispered, kissing his cheek. “I’ll make you some coffee.”
“I love you,” Colt murmured, kissing her knuckles.
“I love you too.”
The burn over his back nearly had him passing out as soon as he hit the water, the salt water seeping into the wounds, intermixing with the gasoline, and digging into his skin. He kept his mouth shut, trying not to scream as he willed his body to move forward.
His vision went black around the edges as the salt burned his eyes. He kept his jacket close around his body. In the movies, he’d figured that ditching it would be the smart choice, work out as proof that he was “dead.” He could practically see it. Dressler’s flashlight sweeping over the darkened water, landing on his jacket. Him calling Gail.
A shiver ran through his body as he tried to keep moving. He was calling Gail. Gail was in on all of this. Gail brought him here to Australia to frame him for murder. Gail wants him dead.
Gail is with Jody.
Jody’s in trouble.
Colt surged forward, cutting through the water, and tried to keep his wings tucked as best he could to reduce the drag on them, tugging his jacket closed over them. He finally surfaced a moment later, his lungs burning with the newfound air as he blinked the salt out of his eyes.
His wings ached and stung, not at all helped by his sopping wet jacket still pressing against them, keeping them hidden. Part of him felt like it was stupid, still caring about trying to hide it in that situation, but even if Gail and Ryder knew, he wasn’t exactly keen on advertising the wings to the world.
He eventually clambered out of Sydney Harbor, lying on his stomach for a moment as he heaved a few breaths. “Fuck,” he grumbled, resisting the urge to roll over onto his back for the sake of not aggravating his wings and back. “Fuck this shit. Nope. I’m done. I’m way too old for this shit, holy fuck.”
Colt tried to bring himself to his feet, shaking off the water almost like a dog, before stumbling forward and eventually falling back to the ground. “Alright, just a minute, holy shit. This hurts. This hurts a fucking lot.”
Colt hissed as a droplet of water trickled down through the newly growing feathers, even though his back muscles seemed to sigh in relief from the constant ache. He leaned his head against the tiling in the shower, taking a few deep breaths.
If he was going to be completely honest with himself, he wanted Jody. He wanted to be able to lean his weight into her and let her massage her nice shampoo into his scalp (he’d been trying to get better, but 3-in-1 shampoo worked just fine…kinda). That did, unfortunately, require him to disclose quite a few things he’d been keeping from her, even before the whole falling twelve stories and breaking his spine. And as much as he loved Jody, he wasn’t sure if he was ready to make that disclosure yet. It wasn’t exactly something he was looking forward to.
Even if feeling her hand ghosting over it would probably feel incredible.
He shook his head, wings shuddering a little bit as he wrapped his arms around himself.
“Colt?”
He glanced up as Jody’s voice came through the door. “Yeah?”
“You’ve been in there for almost an hour, love. You doing okay?”
Colt leaned back against the tile, feeling the warmth radiate through his tender wings and back. “Y-yeah,” he sighed, making a small noise as he moved. “Yeah, Jodes, I’m alright.”
“Can I come in?”
“No!” He yelped, probably too quickly, as he turned his face towards the water, shaking a bit of the water off his wings before staring at the doorknob to see if she actually believed him. It moved a fraction of a turn before it steadied.
He heard her sigh for a second. “There’s coffee in the kitchen. I made some for you.”
"I love you,” Colt laughed, turning off the shower, gathering the few molted feathers that had fallen off his wings. “Have I ever told you that?”
“Once or twice maybe.”
“Not enough. Not nearly enough.”
He could almost hear her smiling through the door. “You are such a cheeseball,” she giggled.
“You love me for it,” he teased, wrapping the robe around his shoulders and slipping out of the bathroom. Jody was already waiting for him outside, studying him for a moment. “Hey?”
“You sure you’re alright?” She asked, rubbing his upper arm. Her fingers were dangerously close to brushing over the edge of one of his wings, and he fought the urge to flinch away from her. Jody wouldn’t hurt him. Jody would never hurt him. “You’ve been a little…” she waved her hand around, “spacey. For the past few days. Normally you’re out on runs in the morning with Jean-Claude and, I’m just-” she pressed the back of her hand to his forehead- “you don’t feel that warm.”
“I’m just kinda…tired, I guess. Not feeling great.”
“You want me to doordash something?”
Colt smiled, kissing her softly. “God, I love you.”
His wings ached under the binding, almost throbbing with pain. The old sweatshirt covered in old grease stains was soft enough to offer some sort of comfort, along with the old sweatpants he wore with it.
Jody had already set out a mug for him by the time he made his way to the kitchen. He took a sip from it, humming contentedly as he smiled at her. “Nailed it,” he said. “You’re amazing.”
“You’re very affectionate,” she pointed out as he came over to wrap his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder as she sat at the counter, laptop open in front of her.
“‘m always affectionate,” he mumbled, kissing her cheek. “What are you working on?”
“Emails,” she sighed. “And you’re more affectionate than you usually are, sweetheart.” Jody glanced at him over her shoulder, brow furrowed. “You honestly doing okay?”
“Jodes-”
“Colt,” she coaxed, “I know something’s wrong.”
“Nothing’s wrong,” he yelped, voice rising a few octaves as Jody reached into the pocket of her own sweatshirt, pulling out a golden brown feather. His heart dropped into his stomach as she twirled it around in her fingers, heart pounding in his chest. “Fuck.”
“I found this in bed,” she said softly. “I’m not accusing you of anything, but-”
“It’s mine.”
She blinked. “Come again?”
Colt shifted uncomfortably, trying to ignore the itch of his wings as Jody stared at him slack jawed. “Ever- ever notice how I’ve, uh, I’ve never taken my shirt off in front of you?” He asked, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.
Jody nodded slowly. “I did, but I just figured it was something I shouldn’t push you on.”
He glared at the feather, prickles running through his wings from the pin feathers just starting to poke through. “Hate to break it to you but you’re kinda pushing me right now.”
Her eyes widened. “I did not, uh, you know what? That’s all I need to-”
“It’s a molt,” he interrupted, glancing away from her. “They’re uh, they’re a lot, on the body at least. I get super tired and basically turn into a potato for about a month while it happens. And they fucking itch like hell, I gotta say.”
Jody nodded slowly. “This is the first-”
“I’m good at hiding it,” he blurted. “I’ve been pretty neurotic about keeping the house clean so you wouldn’t find them.” He ducked his head as Jody’s face softened in understanding. God, she was so goddamn understanding; it killed him sometimes. “Always have been. Even before the, ya know,” he smacked his lips, “the uh, the fall.”
Her jaw opened even wider. “Holy shit, I didn’t even think about that,” she whispered, voice wavering ever so slightly. “Colt, you broke your back. And you- you have-”
“Yep,” he said, popping the p. “Yeah, uh, yeah. They broke too. That uh, that fucking sucked. They had to splint them so they were up all the time and I barely left the house because of it. I mean,” he bit his cheek, “they’re uh, they’re sensitive enough, and since people think that ya know, wearing them out is an invitation to touch them, especially when I physically had to keep them spread so they wouldn’t heal wrong.”
Jody nearly grimaced as he tugged his hoodie over his head, revealing the fabric bindings that wrapped around his torso. The edges of his wings poked out of them, just barely. She kept her hands at her sides, grabbing at the fabric of her leggings to keep herself from reaching out.
Colt sheepishly shrugged. “I can uh, I- I’ll-”
“Can I see them?”
He blinked at her, mouth falling open. “Really?”
Jody rubbed her upper arms sheepishly. “I mean, if you-”
“They look like shit,” he interrupted. “Molt is uh, they make them look pretty bad and someone, uh-” he tapped his foot, fighting back a tear- “something happened to them. In-”
“Hey,” she whispered, “you don’t have to explain, I just- You don’t even have to show me unless you want to and I-”
“I’ll show you,” he admitted quietly, almost sheepishly. “I just-” he tugged at the fabric, slowly wrapping it around his hand, wings twitching slowly until all of the fabric was coiled around his hand, his wings drooping slightly. Jody stared, fingers twitching at her sides as she took an involuntary step forward.
Colt, to his credit, didn’t flinch, but Jody caught the grimace, nearly jumping backwards. “I’m sor-”
“Don’t apologize,” he interrupted, rolling out his back, wings twitching and fluffing as he let out a soft groan. “You’re actually probably the first person who didn’t try touching them immediately.”
“People do that?”
He sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Main reason I’m not open about them, if I’m gonna be honest. Among other reasons.”
He winced again as one of them extended out to it’s full length. She sucked in a breath at the sight. Sure, she’d seen the occasional actor with wings, she’d seen Ryder’s fashion imitations, she’d seen advertisements, magazines, photographs. This was so much different.
Colt hadn’t been lying though, the lines of feathers were uneven, some were small, almost like they’d freshly poked through. They probably had. Some of them seemed damaged, like they’d been ripped out by something…or someone.
The thought settles uncomfortably in her stomach. “Colt,” she said softly. “Who- who knows-”
“If you’re asking me if Ryder knows, he figured it out,” he interrupted. “Did some illegal shit, got my medical records, found out about them.” His fists clenched. “Ripped my flight feathers out, ya know, standard shit.”
“You did not just say standard shit.”
Colt shrugged.
“So let me get this straight,” she began, pinching the bridge of her nose. “He had Gail lure you to Australia to drug you and murder you, sent Dressler to shoot at you, tied you up in front of his yacht, pulled out your feathers, doused you in gasoline, try to set you on fire, and-”
“I’m fine, Jody-”
“No, you’re not!” She snapped, surging forward to wrap her arms around him. “Jesus Christ, Colt, you could’ve died. You could’ve died so many goddamn times, and I genuinely have no idea how you’re so- so relaxed about all of this. I- I have nightmares about what you went through, I can’t- I can’t imagine what you’ve-”
She felt the brush of something soft against her arm and glanced up to see that not only had Colt wrapped his arms around her, but his wings had curled around her as well. She flinched away, trying to keep herself from brushing against them, only to look up and see Colt’s brow furrowed.
“You said they were sensitive.”
“I trust you.”
Jody’s heart fluttered as her fingers hovered over them. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Just, deal with me being clingy, I guess. And help me clean them up,” he said, shrugging. “I’ve been dealing with them alone for long enough; I’m just gotta kinda potato out for a few more days.”
“I can deal with a clingy potato,” Jody teased. “Even if he leaves feathers all over my apartment.” She patted his shoulder. “Helps when he’s honest with me.”
“He’s working on that, but-” he kissed her forehead- “he’s getting better. His girlfriend is way more patient than she should be.”
“Well, his girlfriend loves him so,” she shrugged, “what’s a girl to do?”