Milane Continued.
Stephanie made her way to the apartment as fast, but as gently as possible. The injured bird cradled in her sweater. Even though she could see the stone steps to her apartment, it felt as if they were miles away. The city had never felt as dangerous and as empty and hopeless to her as it did right this moment. After what seemed like forever she pushed her way into the apartment building. She heaved a sigh and steadied herself up a flight of stairs and into the elevator, pushing buttons with her elbows trying not to unsettle the bird. Finally, Avalon! She could see the door to her apartment. They were safe.
As she clicked the door closed behind her, even Spanky was silent while he watched her. She set the camera down on the table with a unconcerned clatter and tiptoed her way down the hallway to the bedroom. "Jesus. Shit. What am I going to do. I'm not a fucking vet." She squeezed her eyes shut, cutting off the tears that were spilling over at the corner of her eyes.
"I'm going to try to help you." she whispered. The big bird gave a muffled caw. He was a shadow of the magnificent beast she usually saw. Wing at an odd angle. Feathers were a smeary mess from the dirty side walk and from the plummet over the side of the building. Very slowly and with deft, gentle hands she began to look him over for injuries.One broken wing and one messed up leg. A few small cuts and missing feathers. Stephanie took a deep breath and walked to the bathroom to get her first aid kit.
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"What the fuck was that." Was all that Phillip could think. Over and over again. Phrase burning red hot in his mind. He held a hand up to his cheek where that goddamned bird had slashed it with his talons. He pulled the hand down and saw the crimson streak across his palm. He only wished he had stopped that stupid animal into pulp. His mind was a mess. A blaze of rage and dark anger as he ran down the stairs in the building. He just had to get down there and find his camera before someone else did. His thoughts led back to Stephanie. Some how, she did this. That bitch was going to get it. Sent her little attack bird after him will she... He'd fucking show her who she was messing with.
He slung open the door to the building and stomped his way out onto the city street. Oblivious to the cold now, he kept his head down looking for the rumpled mess of his camera, but it was nowhere to be seen. His boots crunched on some thin broken glass, but the camera was nowhere to be found. He balled up his fist and punched the side of a derelict old pay phone.
That's it. If she wants to play hard to get. He'd make her come to him. He'd find someway to make her
crawl on her knees and beg for him. He would... A light went off in his mind. All those blazed erratic thoughts became razor sharp and clear. He knew exactly what to do. Exactly how to bring her to her knees. "I'll be seeing you in just a bit love." Phillip hefted his knapsack over his shoulder again and turned to march back up to main street.
"Oh Franky... It's gonna be a good night." he said to himself as he raised his hand to hail a cab.
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Frank was finishing up for the night. He couldn't quite get the whole ordeal with Raquel out of his mind.
He went over and over in his head how he could have said the right thing. Changed the outcome. Frank had a bad habit about that. He was a bear of a man, but what a softie he was on the inside.
Lindsay was wiping down the tables in the cafe area while he put the racks away, and wiped down the counters in the back. "Alright get ya ass outta here and study for those exams you got coming up." He called through the double doors. He heard Lindsay laugh softly as she slipped into her coat.
"You're a doll Frank." She stood on her tiptoes and hugged him before jetting out the back door.
"You guys sure do know how to make a sucker outta me." He called as she closed the back door behind her. He watched through the back glass, making sure she got into her car and out onto the street before going back to finish up. He was having trouble fighting off a case of the willies all day. Cold chills, the heebie jeebies, whatever you want to call them. Frank had them full force. He kept checking over his shoulder. Looking twice in each room. Double checked the tills, even switched on the News Radio show he usually hated. Nothing. Still he couldn't seem to shake it. He heaved a sigh and flicked the neon signs in the window off before cutting through the double doors to the back again. He reminded himself to call in and check on Steph as soon as he got home. Maybe this case of the heebs was her doing. He smiled to himself at the thought of calling her up and blaming the woman for his strange mood. He flipped on the security lights in the back before locking the door and making his way out.
Frank clambered into his old hatchback clunker and slammed the door. Windows only worked on one
side, and her paint had seen better days, but she hadn't let him down yet. "Home again, Lydia" he said and gave the dashboard a pat. She coughed to life and slid out of the parking lot behind the bakery.
He pulled into the small parking deck of his apartment and unwedged his formidable frame out of the car. "Until morning." He chucked and gave the door a loving slam before turning to head out. Suddenly thick and heavy, that unsettling sensation came over him again. That hot-cold flush on his skin was undeniably present. He shook all over and reached in his pocket for his keys and making a hurried rush for the front of the apartment building. He was opening both security doors when a low familiar voice greeted him. Soft, and almost gentle.
"Evening Frankie boy." Phillip said. The young man was right behind him. How could he have gotten so close and been so quiet. Frank barely had time to jump, and no time to speak before Phillip pushed him the rest of the way through the doors. Frank felt a Sharp burning pain in the side of his neck. He heard a wicked creepy laugh coming from Phillip and then the whole world went black.
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Stephanie had fixed Milane up as best she could. His wing was set right and wrapped in some gauze to
hold it in place. She had tried to stint the messed up leg but the bird had fought it, pulling it away weakly with his beak. After that she'd treated all the scrapes and pulled a piece of glass from the skin of his chest.
Now he was cuddled up in the blankets on the middle of her bed, body rocked with shivers every minute or so. Pain dulling his usually vivid eyes. She watched from across the room. Back pressed against the door frame, eyes straining in the dark to make out his lines. Why did it bother her so badly. She was an animal lover sure. The bird and she had been 'friends' for all intents and purposes.. but the melancholy she felt at his injury... the absolute heartbreak, seemed far too intense.
Some creeping cousin to deja-vu began to slink it's way up the base of her spine and she shook her head. She wiped her hands across the thigh of her jeans, and pushed away from the door jam. "sleep easy." She made her way back down the hall, eyes moving to the broken lump of a camera on the counter, which Spanky was readily investigating his own self. That uneasy sensation from her spine turned into a cold brick as she looked at the thing. The lens was broken, but it was huge. Either someone was taking some
epic cityscape photos, or they were one hell of a stalker. She turned it over in her hands, trying to see if she could salvage anything. Someone would be looking for this certainly. After a few moments and no success at getting the screen to come on, or to pop the mangled lens from the front, she found the tiny compartment where the Memory card was. She gave a yelp of joy and patted Spanky's head, who of course
was helping. "It's sad that this makes me feel all Nancy Drewish." She dropped the Memory stick on the desk next to the computer. "We'll have to find out if we have an adapter for this card."
Steph made her way across the kitchen, eyes barely able to keep open after her bizarre night. She reached for a mug and the coffee cairn simultaneously and paused. "No. Sleep. Give in." Then she looked over at the cat and did her best zombie impression. She heaved a sigh and pulled the curtains closed and switched the television off before going down the hall again. She'd almost forgotten about Milane in his linen
nest on the bed. Her hand flicked the light switch, which got her a soft guffaw from a pile of silky black feathers on the bed and she instantly slapped the switch off again. "Sorry sweetheart." she kicked her shoes off and pulled her sweater over her head and tossed it in a pile on the floor. "I wasn't thinking." She wrinkled her nose as she tried to balance her sleepy brain with where she might move the bird, in the end she just
gently pulled the birds makeshift sick bed as far to one side as possible, where she might not kick him or roll over on him in the night.
She half danced, half fell out of her jeans and onto the bed. "Don't go getting the wrong impression." She winked at Milane as if he might be able to understand her. "I don't normally let just any ruffians into my bed." She climbed under her blankets and tossed her dark hair over her pillow. Somewhere in the half light of the room there was a dark bird sound, that echoed faintly of laughter, and then she found
sweet oblivious sleep.
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After the fall, there was nothing but pain. Each breath was agony. He wasn't sure for a bright agonizing moment, who he was, or where he was, or what had happened. Then it all came flooding back. Attacking the man on the roof. How it went wrong. He'd rebuke himself for his wonderful escape plan, if he could pull any two coherent thoughts together.
He tried to pull himself together. Both his wing and his leg seemed to be twisted around the wrong way. Wings! He was still feathered at least. Not naked in the middle of the street, that's something. Wouldn't Stephanie laught to look out of her window and see a broken dying naked man near her stoop. He heaved a breath that caught in his throat. Stephanie. His heart panicked. Where was she. He tried to move his head to peer in the direction of her apartment window, but couldn't manage more than to drop his head against the cold concrete. He willed himself as hard as he could to slip back to his other skin. Sometimes the change could heal him up. Mend broken bones, put himself right. The harder he tried, the farther away it seemed to be. The cold wind and the grit of the concrete. The dark city sky. They were all he could feel. That and the pain of his injuries. He tried again and the pain blacked out the world.
The sound of glass being ground underfoot brought Milane back to the waking world of pain and cold. Come to finish the job you bastard. He just wanted it over now. He wanted Stephanie safe, but what could he do here? A broken tiny feathered thing. Some protector he was. He cawed and tried to stand but fell over once more. Then he could see her. A shadow at first, but he could hear her. Soft voice laced with fear and sadness. Then she leaned over him and he could see those bright blues full of tears. She was safe. She was here! Then the darkness took him again. All that followed were brief peeks of the waking world between fade outs. He was being carried. Warmth. Soft hands. blackness.
Sounds of doors. Flashes of pain. Stephanie's eyes. Strange room. His broken wing feeling like it was being ripped off. Oblivion. After some nebulous amount of time a flash of light brought him around once more. He cawed in automatic protest and heard Stephanie apologize. "I don't normally let just any ruffians into my bed." She said in the darkness, and he laughed. She was adorable, even now. Even after all of this. She'd saved him, and she was right. Even as it was, he was in her bed. A soft sense of quiet settled over him and he closed his eyes and sank into sleep.
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