I was too tired last night to be mad at him for sneaking more seeds from Grandma's feeders.
And by the time morning came, when I woke up and found him gone, probably hiding from my wrath in the attic, though luckily for him I'd pretty much forgotten it. For now. So I threw an outfit on and stumbled down the stairs yawning.
Grandma was sitting in her rocking chair right in front of a window facing the side-yard.
"Morning, Grandma," I yawned.
She didn't reply. Or move. Or anything.
I was immediately alarmed. I wandered over. "Grandma?" She didn't stir.
"Grandma?" I rushed to her side. Oh no, oh no, oh no...!
I frantically put my hand on her shoulder to shake her awake. "Grandma!"
"What?!" she snapped, not even opening her eyes. "You just woke me up from a hell of a dream, Melly!"
"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... Wait, were you here all night?"
"Yeah, now go start on applesauce toast, I'm hungry."
"Were you awake all last night?"
"No, but it done worked. That big bird must've known I was nearby and didn't steal any more feeders."
"Oh? He...It didn't steal any..." I glanced outside. To my wondering eyes, there were all nine feeders, up in their trees. Yet...stray pieces of tape and twisty-ties were littered across the yard. The feeders were half-empty.
So he had taken them down and put them back... You're still in trouble, Raven... But if Grandma didn't notice with her smudged glasses, all the better.
"Mind you, he did eat the whole thing before he put it back," she muttered. "But oh well, as long as my feeders are safe and sound, and he's leaving some for the little birds, a birds a bird."
She saw it get put back? She's calling the bird 'he?!'
What all did she see?!
At first I was in a panic...then remembered the sorts of things Grandma usually believed. This wasn't anything out of the ordinary. No one would believe her if she tried to tell them anyways.
I nodded slowly, already rehearsing my speech to Raven, and made my way off to the kitchen. For breakfast Grandma liked to have cinnamon applesauce on toast. I always had some with her; it was actually pretty good.
But you can guess that after breakfast I went straight upstairs to scold Raven.
"Raven." I glanced around the attic. "Raven?"
"Ohió," he said with a smile, kicked back and reading a book.
"Hey Raven, want some pizza?"
He shrugged. "I—"
"Or would you still be full from the sunflower seed feast last night?"
He reddened and shut up immediately. We both knew this wasn't going to go well no matter what he did.
"I said no more stealing the bird feeders," I reminded him.
He swallowed, at a loss for words.
"Why'd you even go back out?!"
"I didn't take the feeder."
"You took it and put it back, and all the seeds in it are gone and now I have to go spend forever re-filling and then re-taping and tying it!"
He ran his fingers through his hair, knowing he f*cked up. "Sorry... I'll do it for you."
"Well actually, you can't, because Grandma has taken to sleeping on the chair by the window to make sure the big birds didn't fly off with her feeders!"
"I'm not taking the feeders, just the seeds!"
"The seeds are for the yard-birds, not the bird-man in my attic!"
"Nancy said a bird is a bird, and-"
"Raven, you are not a bird, or any other animal. You are a person. A...winged, for whatever reason...human being that does not steal bird feeders when there's a mini-fridge full of leftover pizza to eat otherwise. You are a man, not a bird!"
Raven opened his mouth to reply, but stopped.
Slowly, his eyes fell to the floor. There was a very long pause.
He shook his head. "I'm not human."
"Well, wings aside, you're human."
"I'm a monster," he said quietly, looking to the ground, ashamed. "Demon shapeshifter."
A...what? Where did that come from?
"You...well you're definitely not a monster, Raven, despite whatever it is those wings come from. Did..." I lowered my voice. "Did he tell you that? Is that why you think that?"
"It's true," he insisted.
I shook my head, immediately infuriated at that sick creature who broke this sweet-ass f*cking guy into believing he was a monster. "You can just take everything that twisted motherf*cker said to you and throw it out the window," I said sharply, "because nothing he said to you is worth listening to."
"But I am," he protested.
"You're not a monster, and that's final. You were abused. He f*cked with your head and filled it with lies. You are not a monster. I don't care what your genetics say, you have a human — superhuman at that — brain and heart."
"I'm the blasphemous offspring of the demon shapeshifter Aves Noir and deserve to be punished for his trickery," he said quickly in a dry, edgy monotone.
What the f*ck?
"Woah there, back up..." I told him. "First of all, you didn't deserve what he did to you. He was crazy and sick in the head, and he invented that as an excuse to be a piece of sh*t to you. Second, no one deserves to be 'punished for someone else's trickery,' that's bullsh*t. You were wronged, and none of it was earned. Never ever define yourself by the words of someone trying to tear you down. You're kind-hearted, smart as hell, gentle, thoughtful, strong, and caring, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise."
He huffed, shaking his head, and a tear rolled down his cheek as he nodded slowly.
"Are...you alright?" I asked carefully.
In response, he wrapped me tightly into a hug and held me firmly, his grip shaky.
"Raven..." I didn't know what to say. I didn't realize how deep and impactful that was to him.
His face pressed into the top of my head, he cried for a minute, in silent shaky sobs, after bottling up all those emotions for so long.
So much had been taken from him and burned into him, and only now was he able to see it even in a glimpse of hindsight. The untold horrors in his mind finally felt unnatural compared to a pale, comforting daily routine in the attic.
At least he'd finally begun to process the tragedy; they say in grief, after denial and anger comes depression, then acceptance. But since there was no action he could take to right his past, aimless anger and frustration was of no more use.
Crying is for when you can't do anything about your situation, when all you can do is think about it and revel in sadness, until either your brain accepts it and moves on or you run out of tears. Being that Raven had a lot of tragedy to cry for, I assumed we could be there a while. I knew for sure I'd be here for him as long as he needed it.
Eventually Raven untensed, sniffing. He let me go, and whispered, "Thanks."
"It's what I'm here for," I replied, and figured it was best to move on from the subject for the time being so he didn't have to dwell on it. "But...no more bird feeders, alright?"
"Nancy said–"
I rolled my eyes. "Oh, don't take my Grandma so literally. Or quote her either, cause she's just plain crazy. But don't blame me if she gets all mad because Big Bird is stealing her seeds!"
He nodded, still sniffing.
"Has Potatonut shown back up yet?"
"No."
"Well...can you think of maybe a movie you'd like to watch?"
"Not really."
"Hmm..." I thought for a moment. What's something new he'd like? Preferably not something with an antagonist that might align with whatever had upset Raven.
I confidently presented him with the show Sherlock, and we sat together on the couch as we watched, enjoying each other's company.