Chapter 9: Promise

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Quackity had no idea what was going on with Wilbur.

The hero was way more defensive now that he was fully awake, which he had been expecting, don't get him wrong. What was strange was the fact that his songbird had almost had a panic attack when the villain had taken a step forward.

And the way the magpie avian had flinched was also concerning.

Someone had hurt his songbird.

Quackity was slow and purposeful in his movements, shifting to sit down on the floor where he was.

"I'm serious when I say I'm not going to hurt you, Wilbur," he insisted. "If I wanted to hurt you, I could've done so while you were unconscious. I swear to you, I'm not going to do anything to hurt you. But I do need to check your bandages. If you don't trust me to do it I can go grab my medic-"

"No doctors," the hero hissed, shifting closer to the corner of the bed as he pulled the red blanket up further.

"Alright," Quackity agreed. "No doctors. Though it's not like he's licensed or anything like that. I just call him our medic cause he has the most knowledge on it, plus his healing potions. But you have to let someone help you with the bandages at the very least."

The magpie avian grumbled something to himself, reaching around to scratch his wings as some of the feathers flew off. The villain mentally cringed about having to clean his bed after this. His own molts were hard enough to deal with as is with his smaller wingspan. Wilbur's wings were a lot bigger than his so he's going to be finding magpie feathers everywhere for a while.

Eventually, after a very long staring contest the shrike avian was allowed to come closer. He kept his movements slow and where the hero could see them as he carefully undid the bandages before reaching for the fresh ones on the nightstand. Once everything had been secured he nodded, shifting back from the tense hero.

"Do you need anything? You should probably eat something now that I think about it. I can step outside and grab some food and bottled water for you?" Quackity offered. "If you would rather I just leave you alone then-"

Wilbur grabbed his hand, cutting him off. He paused, slowly glancing back to the other's face. The hero looked almost panicked, pupils shrunk as his shoulders trembled slightly.

"Don't," the magpie avian said. "Don't... just don't leave me. I... I need... s-someone. I don't... I can't be alone."

Quackity carefully placed his other hand on top of the hero's, "Songbird... has someone... hurt you? During a molt?"

The other flinched and the villain mentally cursed as he realized that he had hit the nail on the head.

"Was it someone in your family? Because so help me-"

Wilbur shook his head no, cutting off the shrike avian's threat, "No, no. Phil has made some... questionable choices when it comes to his training but he wouldn't stoop that low. And Techno is just... insufferably perfect in everything he does. He'd never be capable of hurting me intentionally. It wasn't anyone in my family..."

The hero wouldn't really answer many questions after that, which was frankly infuriating. Quackity needed answers damnit.

But...it was something at the very least.

He called for some food and water to be brought up, not leaving Wilbur's side for too long. Slowly, the taller had started to relax, not being as tense whenever Quackity sat next to him.

~Time Skip~

Wilbur kept scratching at his wings as he rested, Quackity reading a book from a chair he had moved to the bedside so he could stay close to his songbird. He glanced up from his book to see one of the hero's wings fluttering wildly as he tried to scratch it.

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