Cerulean Feathers

Chapter 46

Jonathan tapped his foot on the ground as the truck rumbled down the road, the radio quiet as they sped past cars.

"Sorry we couldn't just walk there,"

Brock said, looking through the rear-view mirror to look at Jon,

"We just figured it'd be safer in a car."

"And we have space for yer stuff in here,"

Brian offered over his shoulder, turning to send Jonathan his own reassuring smirk.

Jon tried to reciprocate, but his smile felt weak on his lips, and he turned to look out the window instead.

It didn't take long for them to pull up to the alleyway, and Jonathan lead them through the single alley between the road and his house.

When he stepped past the familiar piece of graffiti, he stopped.

It looked as shitty as he remembered it.

His heart leaped giddily as he entered the building, Brock and Brian on his tail. Jonathan looked around, taking a breath of the moldy air and nearly gasping at the rush of memories that hit him.

The small kid held his jacket tight around him, breaths coming in short panicked gasps as sirens screamed down the road and past him. When the flashing lights stopped illuminating the area, he looked down at the bag of fruits and breads he had stolen from a lady. His stomach growled impatiently, and he slowly picked up an apple as he took more steps into the abandoned building.

He would be safe here for now.

He blinked from the memory and turned toward his old bed, still tattered and dappled with mysterious sains.

He wouldn't sit on it, not when he was already used to the soft mattresses back at base, but the familiar sight made him smile all the same.

"You... really lived here?"

Brock asked from the door, holding his shirt up to his nose to shield himself from the odor.

"Yeah,"

Jonathan laughed, spinning around to look at where he had hidden a few of his things.

He found his mask and his stash of money, but he couldn't find his bear.

He unloaded the few things into the truck, then called to Brock and Brian,

"I'll check the bathroom, be right back!"

"Alright!"

Brock called into the house, Brian back to sitting in the truck to avoid the smell of the building.

Jonathan jogged back inside, ignoring the prickles of pain through his wing as he walked toward the crumbling bathroom.

The first thing he did was look at the shattered mirror, smiling at his distorted reflection.

Smitty was right, his hair was getting longer again.

There was a movement in the background of his reflection.

Jonathan's eyes widened and he whipped around when there was a prick in his thigh. He hissed at the pain, but focused on the dark-clothed figure in front of him. He threw a couple punches, ignoring the tingling numbness that was beginning to crawl up his arms and down his legs. The attacker dodged the fists easily, but didn't retaliate.

He seemed to be waiting.

Jonathan let out a threatening hiss as he lost feeling to all his limbs, the scent of pepper in the air making him sneeze.