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esp_dragonv2Fandom: Noblesse
Summary: When M-24 died, M-21 felt the silence all around him.
Contains: Trichotillomania, in the bird sense? Compulsive feather pulling.
Notes: Harpy AU
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Fantasy
Word count: 3,057
Status: Complete
M-21 hadn't thought much of it when Frankenstein had led him to 'his room'. The room he was staying in. Whatever. It was just going to be a room, and who the fuck cared anyway? It didn't mean M-24 w-
He tore his thoughts away from its tracks, feathers rustling. He couldn't think about it right now. It wasn't safe to.
And he was already so fucking distracted he hadn't noticed Frankenstein had stopped at a door. Right. This one?
He opened the door and - oh.
The room was smaller than the one he shared in the Union, but that was just it, wasn't it? He'd shared his room with ten other harpies and this room looked unused. New. No scratches or feathers anywhere.
The biggest difference was this room was higher with a window. And dotted around the room were perches of different sizes that were securely fastened to the wall.
He'd never... The scientists had never bothered with that for them, and he and - outside the labs, perches were either too much in the open, or didn't exist in the holes they'd had to rest in.
He closed the door behind him and stared at the perches. There was a strong one next to the window, but, no. That would make him too much of a target. Even if there were blinds he could close.
It was too risky.
M-21 curled up in the corner instead. It was safer there.
Colder.
His throat worked, wanting to chirp, to hear M-24 respond, to feel M-24 next to him, and he shuddered, curling up on himself more. Couldn't. He couldn't do that. All that would do is solidify how alone he was.
And he already fucking knew that.
* * *
M-21 woke up. He tensed at the unfamiliar surroundings and turned to-
Fuck.
No-one.
He turned to fucking no-one.
He fluffed up his feathers, trying to pretend that was how he'd always kept warm. Right. Just that.
Though, he didn't really need it, the room warmer than anywhere he'd been before.
His eyes caught movement and he sighed, seeing a handful of his feathers coasting across the floor. He tended to only see them after a trip to the lab.
He stared at them, the dull grey colour.
He should have... He should have saved some of M-24's feathers. To have something to remember him by. To have something he could at least fucking hold.
Not that M-24 had many crest feathers left, and even his flight feathers had been falling out near the-
Near the-
Struggling to breathe, M-21 buried his head in his hands, the ache in his heart threatening to swallow him whole.
* * *
M-21 followed Frankenstein down into his lab. A scientist. Of course he'd walked right into another organisation that dealt in human experimentation.
Against the stark white walls that surrounded them, Frankenstein's peacock feathers shimmered even more.
He could focus on that instead of thinking about where he was being taken. Focus on avoiding stepping on Frankenstein's train. How the fuck did he manoeuvre around the house anyway with that thing trailing behind him?
Except M-21 was seeing exactly how Frankenstein did that: it was only feathers, so could bend around corners with no problem.
The room Frankenstein took him was bigger than the entire floor of the house, machines dotted around. The house was just a front after all.
"Now," Frankenstein said, "can I ask how long you've been shedding for?"
Frankenstein already knew he shed last night? Then there were cameras in the room. Of course.
But when M-21 looked down, he saw the bare patches that ran along his arms. Right. Frankenstein wouldn't need to see into 'his' room.
Frankenstein just had to look at him to see how pathetic he was.
He shrugged. "On and off for years." Would Frankenstein want a proper time frame? He was going to have to get used to talking to a scientist again but... Fuck, he was just so tired and didn't have the energy to think. Not when his thoughts kept circling back to - when before he would have had M-24 at his-
M-21 took a shuddering breath, trying to keep his thoughts as clear as he could.
"Do you know if there are any particular triggers for it?"
That one was easy. "Happens after I go to the labs." Answer all of the scientist's questions. Make him happy. Even if it was giving the scientist ammo against him.
It wasn't as if he had anything to hide from the scientist anymore.
The scientist didn't say anything for a few seconds. Had he said something wrong? He'd answered his question... Shit, he hadn't called the scientist 'sir'.
"Would you rather we do this somewhere else?" the scientist asked, his voice soft.
M-21 stared at him blankly. "Why?" ...He was too fucking exhausted that he was fucking questioning a scientist. And he was too fucking exhausted to take it back. Let him be punished. Who gave a fuck. Maybe it would distract him from the pain in his heart for a second.
"So you're more comfortable," the scientist said, his voice still soft.
A test? Maybe. It still didn't make sense, but scientists never did. "It's fine."
"If you're certain..."
"Yeah."
The scientist nodded and M-21 braced himself for the experiments.
* * *
M-21 lurched into the room he had been given and curled up into the corner again.
What the fuck was that?
Questions.
Just a shit ton of questions. What kind of harpy was he? Looking at M-21's feathers, it would have been hard to know he was a grey parrot, compared to Frankenstein's more distinctive plumage. What did he eat? To find out what to keep from him when he was being punished, no doubt.
A list of other questions he couldn't even fucking remember as he was scanned and had his blood drawn.
And then he was let free.
Just like that.
Allowed to walk away from the lab.
It didn't make any fucking sense.
There had to be more to it.
But he couldn't think anything.
He just wanted to sleep...
Maybe if he did, he'd get woken up and dragged to where he was meant be.
Then everything would make sense again.
* * *
Dinner was too quiet. Just the clink of cutlery or chopsticks against the plate.
"And then, Master, I discovered-"
Frankenstein broke the silence with his words and M-21 stared at his own plate as he ate, forcing his throat shut as he heard Frankenstein's master chirp back in response.
He wasn't allowed to disturb scientists, especially while they were talking.
He could still feel his throat want to chirp, to hear a response, and he shoved that instinct down.
That wasn't allowed.
It made it so fucking clear he wasn't part of this flock, and he ate as quickly as he could to get away.
Trying to not chirp while he ate (when that was what he used to do all the fucking time when he was with-) made it hard to breathe, hard to swallow, a lump in his throat.
He finished what seemed should be a respectable amount that wouldn't be insulting and left them chirping at each other.
He retreated to his room, the back of his neck burning as he felt their eyes on him.
His room.
The silent room.
It was even more silent than what he'd just left, and he laughed, the sound cracked and broken.
There was no response to his call.
Like he fucking knew would happen.
The silence rang out, mocking him, his harsh breathing his only company.
* * *
Working at the school was...better.
Not that it was hard to be than the front he was staying at.
At the school he had to learn what he was meant to do and remember it. It kept his mind busy, kept it from wandering.
The buzzing of the brats around him during playtime or PE was a soft balm on his nerves. He was in a flock, he was surrounded by people.
He chirped softly and could pretend the chirps and laughter were a reply to him.
It wasn't the same, he fucking knew he was lying to himself, seeing only a few stolen glances in his direction rather than directing their calls to him, but it was more than he'd had over the last couple days.
Another group where he was around other people, but he wasn't part of the flock.
He was just going to have to get used to that now, wasn't he?
He hadn't fit in before, modified so he would always be on the outskirts of other people's flocks, but at least he had a flock then. With dwindling numbers until he was the only one left.
Fuck.
* * *
M-21's throat hurt from trying not to chirp too loud when he got back to the house, from shoving down down his instincts over and over and over again.
He didn't know how thin the walls were here. He couldn't make noise in his room, in case he angered the others here. Couldn't risk it.
And to call out and have no reply... He shuddered. He couldn't. That would be too much.
The silence was already too much, the cold. He didn't have to prove he was absolutely alone here.
He still wanted to fucking scream though. Not just to maybe hear a reply from somewhere, but he needed to talk and there was no-one here to talk to.
He hissed as he tugged at his feathers along his arm. It was a small relief when one pulled free and it was something. A feeling that wasn't the fucking frustration or grief ravaging his heart and maybe he would feel something else if he just kept doing it...
* * *
"How did you sleep, M-21?" Frankenstein said, looking at him over his tea during breakfast.
M-21 hated it. Hated the attention from a scientist. He had to be perfect, say the right thing and not fuck up. He couldn't fuck up or else he would be tossed out or the façade would be broken and he would be dragged into the lab and finally fucking experimented on.
"Do you want to talk?" Frankenstein pressed, and fuck, he'd taken too fucking long to answer.
"No," M-21 said, staring at his plate again. Of course he fucking wanted to talk! Was that it? Was Frankenstein mocking him, knowing grey parrots talked a lot? He'd had enough of that at the Union. He was too noisy, too chatty, too loud.
They'd wanted him to shut up.
Not allowed to speak until he was spoken to, and sometimes not even that. Acknowledge with a nod, not a chirp.
It hurt, shoving down the need to speak.
"I need to get ready for work," he mumbled, leaving his barely touched plate.
Wrong. He'd insulted them in some way -and if he hadn't, they could make something up- but they let him go anyway.
He hated it. He hated it. They were waiting for him to break, mocking him at every step, waiting to see when they could unleash the punishment they'd been waiting for.
* * *
More and more feathers filled M-21's room.
He didn't know why though - he only shed when he went to the lab, and he'd only been once here.
He looked down at a sharp pain in his arm and...oh.
He had a clump of feathers in his claws.
Him. He was the reason for it. Right. Of course he was.
He let go of them, watching the feathers drift to the floor to join the others.
Hah. At least they had a group they were part of.
M-21 studied the bare patch he'd left behind and reached for another feather.
What was the pain of pulled feathers to the ache in his heart?
He didn't fucking have anything else to do anyway.
No-one else to talk to as he continued to pull at his feathers.
* * *
Frankenstein kept trying to talk to him. M-21 wasn't even fucking paying attention about what it was anymore, fluffing up his feathers (what was left of them) whenever Frankenstein approached.
It was a threat gesture, but he didn't fucking care. He just wanted Frankenstein away from him.
* * *
M-21 leaned back against the wall, his head still ringing from Shark's kick. It hurt, but the frustrated screech from Shark had been worth it.
He stirred at a chirp, and he swallowed his own reply out of habit, shoving down the gaping hole of loneliness out of further habit.
The chirp wasn't for him. It was never for him, and never would be.
Another chirp, closer this time, and M-21 opened his eyes, seeing Takeo standing in front of him, golden eyes looking directly at him as Takeo held out the water bottle.
For him.
The water bottle was for him.
And so was the chirp.
M-21 stared at him in a daze, not saying anything. Had Shark kicked him hard enough he was hallucinating? Hearing things?
M-21 took the water bottle, still swallowing his replying chirp, because he was wrong. He had to be. It was just a trick, right?
His hands shook as he drank.
Shit. It had been so long since he'd been seen.
* * *
M-21 was tired. Exhausted. But he had to ask if Takeo and Tao could stay in the house.
He knew the yawning possibilities that would be running through their minds right now, trying to keep one step ahead of the Union. It was better here. Safer.
"Frankenstein," M-21 said, hearing Takeo and Tao pause behind him, "this isn't my place to ask, but I want to request if Takeo and Tao can be allowed to stay here." As formal as he could make it without a sir - he'd noticed Frankenstein hid a wince whenever he did that, and asked him to not call him that. It seemed sincere.
"M-21..." Frankenstein said, and M-21 strained his ears, trying to push back against the hope that was building in him. There was no reason for Frankenstein to humour him, especially with how M-21 had acted towards him over the last couple of days. If Takeo and Tao weren't accepted here, it would be his own fault.
"There's no need for you to ask," Frankenstein continued. "This is your home too, after all."
What? It was? But...
Frankenstein chirped then and M-21 almost responded. That was for him. That was definitely for him.
But why-
M-21 ducked out of the living room before he could embarrass himself.
* * *
M-21 huddled in the corner of his room, shaking. Why? Why was he like this? Having someone call out to him was he wanted, wasn't it? Then why-?
He froze at a knock at his door. Shit. He'd really pissed Frankenstein off and he was going to be punished now.
"M-21?"
He exhaled, relaxing at Tao's muffled voice through the door. "It's open," he said.
He didn't move when his door swung open and Takeo and Tao stepped in.
"Where - what're you doin' on the floor, M-21?" Tao said, coming over.
"Does it matter?" M-21 mumbled. He got rest like this.
"Are you feeling all right?" Takeo asked, pressing his hand to M-21's forehead, Tao crowding to his other side.
No. He never felt right now. But.
He was surrounded by people. People were actually in his space, and a soft chirp escaped his lips before he could stop it.
Tao chirped back as he wrapped his arms around M-21's waist and hopped up to the closest perch. "Uuup we go! This'll feel way better for your claws!"
M-21's claws curled around the perch as Takeo fluttered his wings and landed next to him.
Were they...going to stay with him?
He wasn't used to this, this closeness. He'd resigned himself to never having this again.
Tao chirped, leaning against him. "Thanks for asking us to stay."
M-21 didn't say anything for a few seconds before he swallowed, and chirped back. He...had this again? "It's fine. I was in a similar position to you before."
Tao chirped again, in a soft melody, and M-21 felt himself relax, almost falling off the perch.
Takeo's hand at his shoulder kept him upright. And then he felt Takeo running his fingers through M-21's feathers.
Preening him.
It was so much all at once. Contact, chirping, preening? He had suddenly gained a flock again?
He shuddered and he couldn't stop his tears flowing as his walls came crashing down around him.
* * *
M-21 woke up warm, rested. Two bodies were pressed on either side of him and he chirped out of habit before he fully opened his eyes.
Tao chirped back, snuggling even closer.
Oh.
Oh.
M-21 snapped fully awake again, remembering what had just happened. He'd fallen asleep? He couldn't remember much before he had, just a constant song back and forth between them.
Finally.
Finally he had people he could talk with, that would respond to his calls.
M-21 reached for his arm and started when it was caught. He looked at Takeo, and then down at the bald patch he was going to worry at again.
He didn't need to, but...it was right there. He could just-
Takeo moved his hand so it was in Takeo's feathers instead. "Preen me instead," Takeo murmured.
He could?
M-21 turned slightly so he could face Takeo properly, Tao hopping closer with a sleepy chirp.
He started preening Takeo's feathers, and how long had it been since he'd done this? Too long. Far too long.
Takeo let go of his hand and settled down again.
Takeo's feathers were perfect and strong with a sheen M-21's feathers didn't have, but M-21 worked at preening them anyway, something in him soothing at the action.
He was part of a flock again. He could be heard again. He was with others again.
It felt good.
M-21 was able to finish one half of Takeo's wing before he stopped, feeling drowsy.
He chirped and got two replies before he fell asleep again.
He had a flock again.
Inspired by this conversation.
Summary: When M-24 died, M-21 felt the silence all around him.
Contains: Trichotillomania, in the bird sense? Compulsive feather pulling.
Notes: Harpy AU
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Fantasy
Word count: 3,057
Status: Complete
M-21 hadn't thought much of it when Frankenstein had led him to 'his room'. The room he was staying in. Whatever. It was just going to be a room, and who the fuck cared anyway? It didn't mean M-24 w-
He tore his thoughts away from its tracks, feathers rustling. He couldn't think about it right now. It wasn't safe to.
And he was already so fucking distracted he hadn't noticed Frankenstein had stopped at a door. Right. This one?
He opened the door and - oh.
The room was smaller than the one he shared in the Union, but that was just it, wasn't it? He'd shared his room with ten other harpies and this room looked unused. New. No scratches or feathers anywhere.
The biggest difference was this room was higher with a window. And dotted around the room were perches of different sizes that were securely fastened to the wall.
He'd never... The scientists had never bothered with that for them, and he and - outside the labs, perches were either too much in the open, or didn't exist in the holes they'd had to rest in.
He closed the door behind him and stared at the perches. There was a strong one next to the window, but, no. That would make him too much of a target. Even if there were blinds he could close.
It was too risky.
M-21 curled up in the corner instead. It was safer there.
Colder.
His throat worked, wanting to chirp, to hear M-24 respond, to feel M-24 next to him, and he shuddered, curling up on himself more. Couldn't. He couldn't do that. All that would do is solidify how alone he was.
And he already fucking knew that.
M-21 woke up. He tensed at the unfamiliar surroundings and turned to-
Fuck.
No-one.
He turned to fucking no-one.
He fluffed up his feathers, trying to pretend that was how he'd always kept warm. Right. Just that.
Though, he didn't really need it, the room warmer than anywhere he'd been before.
His eyes caught movement and he sighed, seeing a handful of his feathers coasting across the floor. He tended to only see them after a trip to the lab.
He stared at them, the dull grey colour.
He should have... He should have saved some of M-24's feathers. To have something to remember him by. To have something he could at least fucking hold.
Not that M-24 had many crest feathers left, and even his flight feathers had been falling out near the-
Near the-
Struggling to breathe, M-21 buried his head in his hands, the ache in his heart threatening to swallow him whole.
M-21 followed Frankenstein down into his lab. A scientist. Of course he'd walked right into another organisation that dealt in human experimentation.
Against the stark white walls that surrounded them, Frankenstein's peacock feathers shimmered even more.
He could focus on that instead of thinking about where he was being taken. Focus on avoiding stepping on Frankenstein's train. How the fuck did he manoeuvre around the house anyway with that thing trailing behind him?
Except M-21 was seeing exactly how Frankenstein did that: it was only feathers, so could bend around corners with no problem.
The room Frankenstein took him was bigger than the entire floor of the house, machines dotted around. The house was just a front after all.
"Now," Frankenstein said, "can I ask how long you've been shedding for?"
Frankenstein already knew he shed last night? Then there were cameras in the room. Of course.
But when M-21 looked down, he saw the bare patches that ran along his arms. Right. Frankenstein wouldn't need to see into 'his' room.
Frankenstein just had to look at him to see how pathetic he was.
He shrugged. "On and off for years." Would Frankenstein want a proper time frame? He was going to have to get used to talking to a scientist again but... Fuck, he was just so tired and didn't have the energy to think. Not when his thoughts kept circling back to - when before he would have had M-24 at his-
M-21 took a shuddering breath, trying to keep his thoughts as clear as he could.
"Do you know if there are any particular triggers for it?"
That one was easy. "Happens after I go to the labs." Answer all of the scientist's questions. Make him happy. Even if it was giving the scientist ammo against him.
It wasn't as if he had anything to hide from the scientist anymore.
The scientist didn't say anything for a few seconds. Had he said something wrong? He'd answered his question... Shit, he hadn't called the scientist 'sir'.
"Would you rather we do this somewhere else?" the scientist asked, his voice soft.
M-21 stared at him blankly. "Why?" ...He was too fucking exhausted that he was fucking questioning a scientist. And he was too fucking exhausted to take it back. Let him be punished. Who gave a fuck. Maybe it would distract him from the pain in his heart for a second.
"So you're more comfortable," the scientist said, his voice still soft.
A test? Maybe. It still didn't make sense, but scientists never did. "It's fine."
"If you're certain..."
"Yeah."
The scientist nodded and M-21 braced himself for the experiments.
M-21 lurched into the room he had been given and curled up into the corner again.
What the fuck was that?
Questions.
Just a shit ton of questions. What kind of harpy was he? Looking at M-21's feathers, it would have been hard to know he was a grey parrot, compared to Frankenstein's more distinctive plumage. What did he eat? To find out what to keep from him when he was being punished, no doubt.
A list of other questions he couldn't even fucking remember as he was scanned and had his blood drawn.
And then he was let free.
Just like that.
Allowed to walk away from the lab.
It didn't make any fucking sense.
There had to be more to it.
But he couldn't think anything.
He just wanted to sleep...
Maybe if he did, he'd get woken up and dragged to where he was meant be.
Then everything would make sense again.
Dinner was too quiet. Just the clink of cutlery or chopsticks against the plate.
"And then, Master, I discovered-"
Frankenstein broke the silence with his words and M-21 stared at his own plate as he ate, forcing his throat shut as he heard Frankenstein's master chirp back in response.
He wasn't allowed to disturb scientists, especially while they were talking.
He could still feel his throat want to chirp, to hear a response, and he shoved that instinct down.
That wasn't allowed.
It made it so fucking clear he wasn't part of this flock, and he ate as quickly as he could to get away.
Trying to not chirp while he ate (when that was what he used to do all the fucking time when he was with-) made it hard to breathe, hard to swallow, a lump in his throat.
He finished what seemed should be a respectable amount that wouldn't be insulting and left them chirping at each other.
He retreated to his room, the back of his neck burning as he felt their eyes on him.
His room.
The silent room.
It was even more silent than what he'd just left, and he laughed, the sound cracked and broken.
There was no response to his call.
Like he fucking knew would happen.
The silence rang out, mocking him, his harsh breathing his only company.
Working at the school was...better.
Not that it was hard to be than the front he was staying at.
At the school he had to learn what he was meant to do and remember it. It kept his mind busy, kept it from wandering.
The buzzing of the brats around him during playtime or PE was a soft balm on his nerves. He was in a flock, he was surrounded by people.
He chirped softly and could pretend the chirps and laughter were a reply to him.
It wasn't the same, he fucking knew he was lying to himself, seeing only a few stolen glances in his direction rather than directing their calls to him, but it was more than he'd had over the last couple days.
Another group where he was around other people, but he wasn't part of the flock.
He was just going to have to get used to that now, wasn't he?
He hadn't fit in before, modified so he would always be on the outskirts of other people's flocks, but at least he had a flock then. With dwindling numbers until he was the only one left.
Fuck.
M-21's throat hurt from trying not to chirp too loud when he got back to the house, from shoving down down his instincts over and over and over again.
He didn't know how thin the walls were here. He couldn't make noise in his room, in case he angered the others here. Couldn't risk it.
And to call out and have no reply... He shuddered. He couldn't. That would be too much.
The silence was already too much, the cold. He didn't have to prove he was absolutely alone here.
He still wanted to fucking scream though. Not just to maybe hear a reply from somewhere, but he needed to talk and there was no-one here to talk to.
He hissed as he tugged at his feathers along his arm. It was a small relief when one pulled free and it was something. A feeling that wasn't the fucking frustration or grief ravaging his heart and maybe he would feel something else if he just kept doing it...
"How did you sleep, M-21?" Frankenstein said, looking at him over his tea during breakfast.
M-21 hated it. Hated the attention from a scientist. He had to be perfect, say the right thing and not fuck up. He couldn't fuck up or else he would be tossed out or the façade would be broken and he would be dragged into the lab and finally fucking experimented on.
"Do you want to talk?" Frankenstein pressed, and fuck, he'd taken too fucking long to answer.
"No," M-21 said, staring at his plate again. Of course he fucking wanted to talk! Was that it? Was Frankenstein mocking him, knowing grey parrots talked a lot? He'd had enough of that at the Union. He was too noisy, too chatty, too loud.
They'd wanted him to shut up.
Not allowed to speak until he was spoken to, and sometimes not even that. Acknowledge with a nod, not a chirp.
It hurt, shoving down the need to speak.
"I need to get ready for work," he mumbled, leaving his barely touched plate.
Wrong. He'd insulted them in some way -and if he hadn't, they could make something up- but they let him go anyway.
He hated it. He hated it. They were waiting for him to break, mocking him at every step, waiting to see when they could unleash the punishment they'd been waiting for.
More and more feathers filled M-21's room.
He didn't know why though - he only shed when he went to the lab, and he'd only been once here.
He looked down at a sharp pain in his arm and...oh.
He had a clump of feathers in his claws.
Him. He was the reason for it. Right. Of course he was.
He let go of them, watching the feathers drift to the floor to join the others.
Hah. At least they had a group they were part of.
M-21 studied the bare patch he'd left behind and reached for another feather.
What was the pain of pulled feathers to the ache in his heart?
He didn't fucking have anything else to do anyway.
No-one else to talk to as he continued to pull at his feathers.
Frankenstein kept trying to talk to him. M-21 wasn't even fucking paying attention about what it was anymore, fluffing up his feathers (what was left of them) whenever Frankenstein approached.
It was a threat gesture, but he didn't fucking care. He just wanted Frankenstein away from him.
M-21 leaned back against the wall, his head still ringing from Shark's kick. It hurt, but the frustrated screech from Shark had been worth it.
He stirred at a chirp, and he swallowed his own reply out of habit, shoving down the gaping hole of loneliness out of further habit.
The chirp wasn't for him. It was never for him, and never would be.
Another chirp, closer this time, and M-21 opened his eyes, seeing Takeo standing in front of him, golden eyes looking directly at him as Takeo held out the water bottle.
For him.
The water bottle was for him.
And so was the chirp.
M-21 stared at him in a daze, not saying anything. Had Shark kicked him hard enough he was hallucinating? Hearing things?
M-21 took the water bottle, still swallowing his replying chirp, because he was wrong. He had to be. It was just a trick, right?
His hands shook as he drank.
Shit. It had been so long since he'd been seen.
M-21 was tired. Exhausted. But he had to ask if Takeo and Tao could stay in the house.
He knew the yawning possibilities that would be running through their minds right now, trying to keep one step ahead of the Union. It was better here. Safer.
"Frankenstein," M-21 said, hearing Takeo and Tao pause behind him, "this isn't my place to ask, but I want to request if Takeo and Tao can be allowed to stay here." As formal as he could make it without a sir - he'd noticed Frankenstein hid a wince whenever he did that, and asked him to not call him that. It seemed sincere.
"M-21..." Frankenstein said, and M-21 strained his ears, trying to push back against the hope that was building in him. There was no reason for Frankenstein to humour him, especially with how M-21 had acted towards him over the last couple of days. If Takeo and Tao weren't accepted here, it would be his own fault.
"There's no need for you to ask," Frankenstein continued. "This is your home too, after all."
What? It was? But...
Frankenstein chirped then and M-21 almost responded. That was for him. That was definitely for him.
But why-
M-21 ducked out of the living room before he could embarrass himself.
M-21 huddled in the corner of his room, shaking. Why? Why was he like this? Having someone call out to him was he wanted, wasn't it? Then why-?
He froze at a knock at his door. Shit. He'd really pissed Frankenstein off and he was going to be punished now.
"M-21?"
He exhaled, relaxing at Tao's muffled voice through the door. "It's open," he said.
He didn't move when his door swung open and Takeo and Tao stepped in.
"Where - what're you doin' on the floor, M-21?" Tao said, coming over.
"Does it matter?" M-21 mumbled. He got rest like this.
"Are you feeling all right?" Takeo asked, pressing his hand to M-21's forehead, Tao crowding to his other side.
No. He never felt right now. But.
He was surrounded by people. People were actually in his space, and a soft chirp escaped his lips before he could stop it.
Tao chirped back as he wrapped his arms around M-21's waist and hopped up to the closest perch. "Uuup we go! This'll feel way better for your claws!"
M-21's claws curled around the perch as Takeo fluttered his wings and landed next to him.
Were they...going to stay with him?
He wasn't used to this, this closeness. He'd resigned himself to never having this again.
Tao chirped, leaning against him. "Thanks for asking us to stay."
M-21 didn't say anything for a few seconds before he swallowed, and chirped back. He...had this again? "It's fine. I was in a similar position to you before."
Tao chirped again, in a soft melody, and M-21 felt himself relax, almost falling off the perch.
Takeo's hand at his shoulder kept him upright. And then he felt Takeo running his fingers through M-21's feathers.
Preening him.
It was so much all at once. Contact, chirping, preening? He had suddenly gained a flock again?
He shuddered and he couldn't stop his tears flowing as his walls came crashing down around him.
M-21 woke up warm, rested. Two bodies were pressed on either side of him and he chirped out of habit before he fully opened his eyes.
Tao chirped back, snuggling even closer.
Oh.
Oh.
M-21 snapped fully awake again, remembering what had just happened. He'd fallen asleep? He couldn't remember much before he had, just a constant song back and forth between them.
Finally.
Finally he had people he could talk with, that would respond to his calls.
M-21 reached for his arm and started when it was caught. He looked at Takeo, and then down at the bald patch he was going to worry at again.
He didn't need to, but...it was right there. He could just-
Takeo moved his hand so it was in Takeo's feathers instead. "Preen me instead," Takeo murmured.
He could?
M-21 turned slightly so he could face Takeo properly, Tao hopping closer with a sleepy chirp.
He started preening Takeo's feathers, and how long had it been since he'd done this? Too long. Far too long.
Takeo let go of his hand and settled down again.
Takeo's feathers were perfect and strong with a sheen M-21's feathers didn't have, but M-21 worked at preening them anyway, something in him soothing at the action.
He was part of a flock again. He could be heard again. He was with others again.
It felt good.
M-21 was able to finish one half of Takeo's wing before he stopped, feeling drowsy.
He chirped and got two replies before he fell asleep again.
He had a flock again.
Inspired by this conversation.