Temporary Hiatus! | Wings | Fleeting Feathers Book 1

Chapter 7 | Charlie Brent

Cold, blood-freezing dread filled Eagle's blood as he heard that name spoken, his body freezing and his breathing sped up like a bike going down a tall hill. It felt wrong to be called C̶h̶a̶r̶l̶i̶e̶, that name. Everything felt wrong, his blood rushed to his ears and all he could hear was ringing, he could vaguely see Buzzard in front of him, saying something, grabbing his arm and when did he start bleeding? He could vaguely hear rushing in front of him, Owl was holding back a man ̶E̶a̶g̶l̶e̶?̶ ̶C̶h̶a̶r̶l̶i̶e̶?̶ didn't know. What he did know was Buzzard was there, right in front of him, telling him to breathe and that everything was okay. ̶E̶a̶g̶l̶e̶?̶ ̶C̶h̶a̶r̶l̶i̶e̶?̶ felt sluggish, as if he'd just run a marathon and he didn't know what he should do, everything hurt, and he felt like even thinking was too much, all he knew was he had to focus, that he had to listen to Buzzard. Because Buzzard was there, he was real even if everything in his mind wasn't, Buzzard was really truly there. Because Buzzard had listened to him over twenty-four hours ago and hadn't laughed at his fears, hadn't told anyone anything he'd learned, only being helpful and nice and how could anyone be so nice to him?

̶E̶a̶g̶l̶e̶?̶ ̶C̶h̶a̶r̶l̶i̶e̶?̶'s panic eased as he listened to Buzzard, who at some point had pulled him so that his ear was aligned with Buzzard's heart and he could feel its comforting rhythm, reminding him that this was real and that he wasn't alone. Slowly he managed to think again, sorting information in his head piece by piece, and repeated it like a mantra.

I am Charlie Brent, the Flock calls me Eagle. I prefer being called Eagle. I have a pet eagle named Terrorem, I am in Rivera Stronghold. I am safe and with the Flock. I am not being left behind. Slowly more came back to him, and he could feel Buzzard rubbing circles on his back in a comforting rhythm.

Eventually, Buzzard broke the silence, not moving but asking a simple question: "Are you alright?" He didn't know how to answer that, he was confused, he preferred it as Eagle, a member of the Flock, but he was also Charlie Brent, a kid with on-the-verge divorced parents and a mother whom he was never good enough for. He also realized he wasn't on the grass as he had been before, now he was in a room with a single bed curled up with Buzzard. He could see in the corner of his eye the rest of the Flock in sleeping bags on the floor. He noticed all of their things were there too, every single bag and weapon.

"I... I don't know." He answered truthfully.

"What do you want us to call you?" Buzzard asked him, his voice soft, like that time in the truck when Buzzard had told him about the Flock's pasts.

"I, I want to be called Eagle," Eagle told him after a moment of thought.

"Alright then. What do you want to do?" Buzzard asked him.

"I, I need to talk about this," Eagle told him. He found it easy, talking and answering questions when Buzzard gave him a topic to focus on, keeping his mind from running in circles.

"Okay," Buzzard told him, and the dam burst. He told Buzzard everything, at first hesitant and afraid, but soon he was telling Buzzard everything, shaking with silent sobs as he explained everything that had happened since the Fall, how his mother had left him behind in what remained of their house barely two months into this new hell, how he had been found by Ashton Stronghold half-starved and exhausted, how scared and confused he was, how he had been running from bandits the day the Flock saved him and how conflicted he was, because being Eagle was easy, but being Charlie Brent was hard. Charlie Brent had died the day his mother had left him and Eagle had taken his place. He told Buzzard about how he'd forgotten his name because at the Ashton Stronghold kids hadn't been called by their names, only by runt or sweetheart or by a number. Slowly, the heavy feeling in his chest loosened bit by bit as Buzzard ran a hand through his hair and Eagle finally stopped talking, basking in Buzzard's warm and comforting presence.