"I'm fine, I really don't need to be wheeled in like this," I complained, the nurses around me ignoring my words as they pushed my hospital bed into the secluded Parliament wing. I fingered the ugly hospital gown they had made me wear, though I kept my mask on, wanting to at least try and hide my identity. Lark's father, who had been clued in on who the Parliament really were, had selected only a handful of nurses to help treat us, binding them to legal secrecy.
"You fainted in the ambulance," Lark's dad said as he followed close to my bedside, flicking through some papers. "It's probably just from exhaustion, but you're severely dehydrated and have lost quite a bit of blood, so we don't want you walking around. Your wounds are superficial enough, though, and the paramedics already dressed them. What you need now is copious bed rest. Hence the bed."
"Yeah, dude. You really freaked me out when you just flopped over in the ambo," Geoff said, laughing at my expense. My friend was skipping alongside us, completely fine - understandable, considering he hadn't been kidnapped and barely broke a sweat beating up a psychotic ex-military mercenary.
Note to self: never piss Geoff off.
"Fine," I huffed, flopping back onto the slightly scratchy mattress, letting the good doctor and nurses wheel me into one of the rooms in the wing. "But Lark?"
"I'll check in on her. Gia's been with her this whole time, though," Geoff said, patting my shoulder before disappearing into a curtained room - Lark's, I guessed.
"Don't you dare give my daughter cannabis again! She's ill and feverish!" Dr Larsen yelled at Geoff just before the door closed behind him, and I gave him a perplexed look, the man sighing. "He and his sister visited Lark yesterday. It was lovely, to see that they care for her so much, but... when I came in to check on her, I caught them lighting up a joint."
"Oh," I said, suddenly itching for a joint myself. Dr Larsen just narrowed his eyes at me, before shaking his head, turning back to the charts in his hand.
Soon, at around 4am, I was wheeled into what I figured was my room right next door to hers. I was surprised to see Milo sitting there, hands fidgeting with a wheel-able IV drip and donning a white and blue printed gown. The moment he saw me, he quickly got up, probably a little too fast since his eyes lost focus for a second and he stumbled, gripping onto the IV stand. He recovered quickly, before rushing over, wheels of the drip squeaking against the floor.
"I remember prescribing bed rest to you too, son," Lark's father sighed, shaking his head when Milo completely ignored him, grabbing my hand once the nurses pushed my bed into position. They slung a similar IV bag connected to my left hand onto a stand, sticking some monitors on my chest and and clipping something onto my finger to keep an eye on other vital stats, before the doctor nodded and they left.
"Don't do anything too strenuous, the both of you," Lark's dad said, eyes knowing, though he pushed a chair closer to the bed for Milo to sit on, chuckling to himself. "You've both been through a lot, so please just rest. There's a call button behind you if you need anything." Lark's dad left without much else, pulling the blinds to the room closed before shutting the sliding door behind him.
With Lark's father gone, the small hospital room fell silent, save for the constant beating of the machines around me. The sound was more reassuring than annoying, confirmation that my heart was beating, and that I was alive. Alive, and here with Milo.
My boyfriend slowly lowered himself into the chair next to my bed, not letting go of my hand. His own shook as he clumsily knotted his fingers with mine, and he pressed the back of my hand to his mouth. I felt his trembling breath dust over my skin, and his warm tears that slipped down my wrist as he cried, shoulders slumped with relief.
It reminded me so much of that last time I was hospitalised, doped up on painkillers with my arm in a cast. This time, though, Milo was sitting there looking as beat up as me, and my heart bled. Milo had bruises scattered over his skin, and he looked unhealthily pale with dark circles rimming his watery eyes. I was sure that beneath the hideous hospital gown, there would be more bruises. The image of him broke me, and the tears slipped free.
"Now I think I know how you felt, back then," I choked out, voice stripped. I knew Milo was aware of what I was mentioning with 'back then', his eyes closing shut, no doubt remembering how I had looked in a similar hospital bed to the one I was in right now. "When you were taken..." I paused, shaking my head and trying to speak around the lump in my throat, but I couldn't.
I reached over carefully, not wanting to tug at the cords and IV drip stuck into my skin, but I had to feel Milo. Apparently, that wasn't close enough for Milo even then, my boyfriend moving to lie beside me on the bed. I laughed, the sound snotty and thick, shuffling to make some more room for him. The two of us lay on our sides, foreheads touching, hands clasped between us.
"I was going to yell at you when I saw you, you know," Milo sniffled, nose and eyes red, knocking his forehead onto mine. "For putting yourself in danger, letting yourself get taken. C, you gave yourself up for-"
"I did what I had to do," I said, breathing out shakily. "For Lark, and for you. When they took you... when I saw you pass out... I imagined the worst. I couldn't... I didn't care about anything. I just wanted you to be safe, I couldn't think about anything else, I-"
I was babbling, and Milo was sobbing, which made me sob even more. The two of us were curled together, two grown boys completely sobbing messes, but there was nowhere I would rather be - ugly and scratchy hospital gowns and all.
"I'm just glad you're safe," I said after catching my breath again, tightening my grip onto Milo's hand, leaning forward in search of his lips. Milo met me half way, our mouths tangling desperately. I moved my hand from Milo's to cup his cheek, his own hand moving down to pull at my waist, smoothing and gripping my flesh there in turn like he couldn't decide whether to pull me closer or smooth away my pain.
For a while we lay there, just kissing and reminding each other that we were safe. It didn't take long for exhaustion to overcome the two of us. I wasn't sure who fell asleep first, but I did wake up first much later that day, smiling when I realised that Milo was still there curled up in the tiny hospital bed beside me, looking peaceful in his dreams.
***
I fell back to sleep again after waking up, and the second time waking that afternoon was not as pleasant as the first time.
"Milo! Du bist ekelhaft!" someone yelled, far too loud for a hospital, and the warm weight that kept lightly tapping on my forehead, nose and cheeks disappeared, leaving me feeling cold.
"Shut up, Felix!" my boyfriend retorted quietly, letting out a disgruntled noise when he felt me stirring. "See? You woke him up!"
"I'm pretty sure you woke him up, smothering his face with your mouth like that," Felix replied flatly. Blinking blearily in the direction of the offending voice, I rubbed at my eyes.
"Oh. Mornin', Felix," I said through a yawn, slumping against Milo who had been cradling me in his arms. Felix looked at me with a stiff expression, before seeming to war with himself, closing his eyes and looking pained. It was after a beat of awkward silence that Felix opened his eyes again, looking at me with determination.
"Thank you, for saving Milo," Felix said, the words coming out in a rush. "I-I know it was dangerous, and you could've been seriously hurt because those guys were the ones who shot you before, a-and then you disappeared for months so I thought you died. I mean, you did almost die. But... But you still risked your life to save my brother, so thank you. I guess." Felix was left winded after speaking, cheeks and ear flushed red. His eyes caught my injured arms, the bruising puncture holes around my veins, the bruises, pausing.
His eyes that had been staring into mine dropped, and the kid squirmed with embarrassment.
"And I still mean what I said before. You really are my- a hero. A hero," Felix mumbled quietly, and I sprang up in my bed, regretting my rapid movements as my body ached. Milo's hands orbited around me, frantic after hearing my short groan of pain, and I patted his thigh reassuringly.
"What did you say, Felix? I couldn't hear your mumbling," I pushed, leaning forward eagerly, Felix's face growing even redder. "I'm your what?"
"Nothing," Felix gritted, glaring a hole through the floor.
"No, no, I definitely heard something," I sang, Milo shaking his head, sinking back down onto my bed and hiding his head in my lap, not wanting to get involved with our catfight. "I'm what to you? Come on, tell me. And remember to enunciate, kid."
"You're a pain in my ass, that's what!" Felix said loudly, snapping his head back up, glaring at me as he tried to cool his flaming cheeks. The amused grin stretching across my face seemed to rile the kid up even more. "And don't call me kid! You're barely a year older than me! You saved Milo, and you're injured, so I won't get too mad at you today, but once you've recovered I'm going to sock you in the face! How dare you lie to me?! When you were playing Black Dove you treated me like you didn't know who I was! You probably thought it was fun to mess with me, huh? Treating me like a kid, and making me..."
Felix's words died off, his cheeks still flushed and eyes hard, but he let out a frustrated groan and jerked an accusing finger towards Milo and I.
"Anyway, you two better not leave me out of any of this again!" Felix eventually threatened, Milo tilting his head up, confused.
"What do you mean, Felix?" Milo asked, eyes narrowing.
"I already know your secret, there's no point hiding it. And if you're gonna drag my brother into dangerous shit like you always do, I'm going to have to keep an eye on things. It's obvious that even my brother can't think straight around you," Felix said, looking a little pompous as he crossed his arms over his chest, raising a brow challengingly. These two brothers, they have the same bloody facial expressions. The only difference is one brother makes me want to punch him, the other makes me want to jump him.
"Dude, you told me that you're bi," I said, smirking. "No one in this room thinks straight."
Felix's mouth dropped open, before he clenched his fists and glared a hole through my brain, like he was trying to decide whether he could hit a hospitalised, already-injured elder or not.
"I hate you, Arsch mit Ohren," Felix seethed, and Milo sent him a chastising look though his shoulders shook as he tried to suppress his laughter at the two of us, making me turn to him with a slight frown.
"Milo, translate. What did he say? The first word sounded a lot like 'arse'," I said, shaking Milo's shoulder, eyes wide. "Your kid brother totally just insulted his elder. What did he call me, Milo?"
Milo just shook his head, glancing at his brother, who was also struggling to contain his laughter, and it didn't take long for the two German brothers to dissolve into laughter at my expense.
"You two are dicks. Doomcoughs, fucking 'arse whatevers'," I groaned, pouting as the two of them continued to laugh, Felix almost collapsing onto the ground and in need of a hospital bed himself, arm around his stomach as he hiccuped out 'I can't breathe, mein Gott.' Good. Stop breathing, then. See if I care. Arse whatever.
Swearing to myself in english, suddenly hating the fact that I was a monolingual idiot who could barely spell in my first and only language as it was, I shuffled away from my stupid laughing genius boyfriend who wouldn't tell me what his brother said to insult me, turning my chin away from him petulantly.
Milo tried to contain his laughter, reaching out to pull me back to him, and I only resisted long enough until he murmured a half-hearted apology, wrapping his arm around my waist and burying his head into the side of my torso.
"Ugh, I'm going to leave now. I don't need to see this. I just came to see if you two were okay, and to bring you some of Mama's food," Felix said, pointing to a cooler bag sitting on a table in the corner before looking at Milo and I snuggling with forced disgust, the kid's eyes gleaming with happiness despite trying to look angry. A puppy, really. Like the sibling I never had.
"Bye kid!" I said, Felix flipping me off as he left, though the motion only made me feel fond.
After Felix left, I turned back to my boyfriend, but was caught by the... ecstatic expression on his face.
"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" I asked, cautious. Milo just smiled wider, before sitting up and capturing my mouth with his. As much as I enjoyed having Milo's mouth on mine, morning breath and all, I lightly shoved Milo's shoulder, murmuring the question against his mouth again, disrupting our kiss.
"I'm just glad you two get along now," Milo admitted, kissing my slightly bruised cheek.
"If getting along means me getting insulted in languages I don't understand, then yes, we are getting along great. Fantastic. Amazing. Very swell," I said, narrowing my eyes. "What did he call me, anyway?"
Milo chuckled, pushing my long, bird's nest of a hairdo from my face, pecking me again before pulling back.
"Arsch mit Ohren," Milo said, and even though I knew it was an insult - it had to be an insult, Felix would never say something nice about me in German - I couldn't help the shiver of arousal wash over me at the sound of Milo's tongue wrapping around the German syllables. I'm a simple man.
"It totally has 'arse' in it, doesn't it," I said, crinkling my nose. "What does it mean?"
"Literally?" Milo asked, and I nodded, my boyfriend grinning. "Arse with ears. Usually used to call someone a massive idiot."
"Oh," I said, tilting my head to the side. "I thought it would be worse, to be honest."
Milo laughed, about to tug me down to make out some more, but was interrupted by a shrill scream from the room next door. The two of us stared at each other, wide-eyed, before rolling out of the bed, cursing as our cords got tangled and almost falling on our wheeled IV drips, before limping out and into Lark's room. Lark's parents were already there, but Gia and Geoff had gone home sometime while Milo and I had slept. When Lark saw me, she screamed my name and tumbled out of bed in a panicked flurry.
"Oh my God, what happened?" I said quickly, wrapping my arms around the girl who babbled about things that didn't make sense, before turning around in my arms so her back faced me and hiking up her hospital gown. Her parents were too shocked with everything going on to care that their daughter was basically flashing me her underwear and braless tits - not that I hadn't seen them before - as they stared at the two moving protuberances from her back.
"Oh," Milo dropped, and I could feel the tension leaving him as he peered at Lark's back over my shoulder.
"Oh?!" Lark echoed, incredulous. "This is not an 'oh' problem!"
"Aw, they're so cute. Brings back memories, doesn't it, baby?" I said, turning to Milo with a smile on my face, my wings flapping around happily. "Little baby wings!"
"Wicked Wings," Milo said, patting the small of my back as I peered at the familiar stubs protruding from Lark's back, not phased in the slightest, despite her parents looking like they were about to pass out.
"Dovey, what the hell is happening?!" Lark yelled, turning back around as she let her dress drop, preserving her modesty once again.
"Were you scratched by one of the birds in the lab?" I asked calmly, Lark furrowing her brow, before nodding slowly, touching her scratched cheek. "There you go then. Welcome to the club!"
"I'm growing wings," Lark said, devoid of emotions. Just stating a fact. "I'm growing wings."
"You're growing wings," I said, Maggie and Piper flapping again happily.
"Okay, this is not happening," Lark's mum said, collapsing onto a chair, her husband just staring at his daughter like she was a medical marvel, even though I was literally standing beside her with fully grown additional appendages.
"I knew that we were birds of a feather!" I said, Lark managing a breathless snort, reaching at her back to feel the hard stubs that wiggled playfully.
"And I knew that we shouldn't have named our daughter a bird name!" Olivia whisper-yelled to her husband, the man waving away her thoughts, hurrying to his daughter and asking her if he can have a look, Lark agreeing. My ex-girlfriend looked at me, grinning slightly.
"I guess I'll be the Birdgirl to your Birdboy, huh," Lark said, and I grimaced.
"Birdman, get it right, please," I responded, miffed. Lark just laughed, her usual bell-like sound, as much the songbird she always was.
So, it turned out that I had suddenly gained a Birdgirl (woman?) in Lark, and a brother in Felix.
Turning around, I looked at the boy behind me, realising that ah, yes, there was another B - maybe the most wondrous B of all.
Boyfriend.
***
Considering none of us were grievously injured, and that Lark's flu-like condition improved the moment her wings 'teethed', we were discharged only a few days later. Milo and I spent those days stuck in the hospital coaching Lark on how to retract and manifest her wings, which were slightly smaller and more streamline than mine were, and coloured a rich auburn shade, a little darker than her hair colour.
The moment we had told the GoGos, Gia was beside herself with ideas on Lark's costume, and Geoff began sulking and feeling left out since he wasn't given any superpowers. Lark's mother had also come to terms with the fact that her daughter had grown wings, just muttering that she should have grown used to this shit by now.
When we were discharged, Lark stayed with her parents, while Milo and I went back to his place. Ada was adamant that we stay there, suddenly not wanting us to leave her sight, a true mother hen. I understood her need to have her son close to home, but I almost started crying when she extended that sentiment to me as well.
"You're basically my third son, Culver," Ada had chastised, wrapping me in a tight hug, before pushing me down on a chair at the kitchen table to force-feed me some of her Rouladen, since she thought my stint as a hostage made me lose too much weight. I hadn't, but I never said no to Ada's Rouladen.
It was on the first night after we had been discharged that I received a video call from a number that hadn't called in a while, not since its owners disappeared into the South American jungles in the hunt for exotic birds. Milo immediately recognised my excitement as I answered, sitting up in bed and answering the call. Milo stayed lying down, just smiling softly up at me and rubbing soothing patterns against my thigh.
"Mum! Dad!" I exclaimed, rubbing my eyes as I almost started crying for what seemed like the hundredth time in the span of 72 hours. It had been a long time since they had called, their trip to South America being extended, and their time without any phone or internet service lengthening. They had sent battered postcards and letters, but it was different seeing them and hearing their voices.
"Culver, sweetie!" mum said, rubbing her eyes a little as well, my dad patting her shoulder and smiling at the camera. "Oh, it's been too long. I am so sorry we haven't been able to call for so long. We've missed you so much, darling."
"I've missed you too," I murmured, growing a little glum when I realised that I hadn't physically seen my parents for months. The recent tumultuous events of my life had dulled that longing for my parents, my mind and heart occupied with so many other things, that seeing them now was almost overwhelming. I kept myself grounded though, Milo's hand on my thigh anchoring me, his heat reminding me that no, I'm not alone. Not any more.
"Well, we finally finished our work here, so we'll be catching the early flight out tomorrow morning. We'll be back before you know it," dad said, mum nodding as she finished drying her eyes, leaning in a little closer to the camera, squinting.
"Darling, where are you? That doesn't look like your room," mum said, and I immediately stilled. Oh, right. I still hadn't told them that I'm dating Milo now. Or that Lark and I broke up. Or that I've grown wings and may or may not have saved a little pocket of the world. Or the fact that her best friend and my godmother, Harriet, was currently facing a life sentence in jail for kidnapping and being an accessory to murder, among other things.
Oh dear.
Milo sensed my trepidation, squeezing my thigh once. I dropped my hand to cover his, finding comfort in his touch, like always.
"Uh, right," I said, looking at mum and dad, who were more confused than worried or angry at me being in a seemingly unfamiliar bedroom at 1am in the morning. "Um, well. You two have been gone for a while... and... lots of things have happened in that time?"
"You didn't get Lark pregnant, did you?" mum asked suddenly, and I shrunk back, horrified that that was the first thing that came to her mind. Milo's hand jerked in mine, and I immediately shook my head.
"No! Mum, what the hell? Why would you think that? No, Lark and I broke up ages ago!"
"What?" dad asked, looking sad. "That's a shame, she was a lovely girl. Are you sad, son? You must be lonely without her. Have you been going on dates? Have you met any one else? You've been spending time with your friends, right? How is Milo?"
At the mention of his name, Milo perked up, though he did look a little awkward. I looked down at him, asking him a silent question, my boyfriend nodding slowly and rising from his reclined position. I pulled him in closer to me to capture his face in the frame of the camera, my boyfriend smiling at my parents sheepishly.
"Uh, hi, Mr and Mrs Fleet. I'm good, thank you for asking," Milo said, polite as ever, my parents surprised but returning his greeting.
"Oh, so you're at Milo's house. That's great, Culver," dad said, looking happier knowing that I wasn't wallowing my time away alone, more concerned about my social life compared to meagre things like employment and education. Typical dad.
"Yeah, it is," I said slowly, before slinging my arm around Milo's shoulders, in view of the camera. "And, to answer your questions. No, I am not lonely after breaking up with Lark. Yes, I've been on dates - with Milo. Yes, I'm currently dating Milo. And yes, I've been spending time with friends. And my boyfriend. Who is Milo."
Mum and dad blinked at us through the phone once. Twice. Three times. Then, dad let out a sigh of relief, and mum started smiling giddily, the phone shaking in her hands with her excitement.
"Oh, that's wonderful news!" mum said, blowing us kisses. "Milo, we must take you out to dinner when we get back! With your mother and brother, too. It's been a while since Ada and I have caught up. Why, the last time we've really chatted must have been when you two were still in high school!"
"Yes, my mum would love that," Milo said, flushed with happiness.
"Oh, and I have to chat to Harriet about this! You didn't tell her before you told me, did you, Culver?" mum asked, her question only met with silence. "Culver? Is something wrong?"
"Kind of. Yes, and no. Mainly yes. Actually, definitely yes. It's... It's a long story," I said, mum and dad frowning in concern. "It's... probably best to tell you in person." Or show you in person.
"Alright, we trust you, honey. We'll be back soon, and we know it's late where you are, but we couldn't wait to talk to you," mum said, blowing me another kiss. "We'll call you when we land, you'll probably be sleeping when we get on the plane."
"Okay, love you," I said, mum and dad smiling, waving at the camera.
"Love you too, darling. And good night, Milo. Thank you for looking after our Culver," mum said, Milo blushing but nodding, murmuring a good night.
Dropping my phone onto the bed beside me, Milo and I sunk back into the mattress, my boyfriend's arms pulling me close so our bodies meshing together until I couldn't tell where I ended and he began.
"A long story is an understatement, Ducky," Milo murmured, nuzzling my hair with his nose as I huffed, pressing my face against his chest.
"Yeah, but it's a pretty great one."
And it truly was. It was a pretty great story, about a birdbrained boy who didn't do much at all, and thought even less of himself, but was forced to accept power that he hadn't wanted. Even so, he had shouldered it, borne it, and at times buckled under it, but in the end he had learnt how to wield it.
Not as a weapon, but as a shield. A shield to protect not only the world, but his world. His friends, his family, his Parliament.
Friends, who had been there for him through thick and thin, who stuck by him even when he had given up on himself. Who accepted him, for all his faults and shortcomings, and made him want to become a better person. A person who could protect them, like they always protected him.
And it was a story of love. Of platonic love, between a Birdman and his friends. Of romantic love, between a bird and his mate for life.
And of self-love, because the boy that grew wings had, at one point, not loved himself. In the days and years to come, he would likely slip into moments of cloudiness, rain and darkness, but after this story, he knew that he could over come it. He had done it once, and he could do it again.
He had been given wings for a reason, and there was nothing that was going to stop him from flying.
A/N: And onto the epilogue we go! Thank you so much to everyone who has stuck with this story until this point, it truly means a lot to me, because I found a lot of joy in writing this story and creating these characters. I have loved sharing this tale with you!