Chapter 10: The Love of A Villain

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Wilbur had been cleared for hero work again.

Techno and Phil had been questioning him ever since he came home, but he wasn't really in the mood to answer their questions. When they asked what had happened and where he was, he just...locked up. For a good day or so he refused to talk because he was just...confused. The family doctor had said that it was trauma but no. Wilbur just did not want to fucking explain what all had happened.

Eventually, he did explain a bit about what happened. He told Techno and Phil that he had been fighting with Pyro and Smile when The Hellfire Villain had got his wing (he did not mention the part where he had forgotten Pyro was there. He let them believe that the villain got a lucky shot). He told them that he had managed to fly to the mainland from the island district to lose them and that he had crashed somewhere.

He explained that he remembered someone found him, but that he didn't remember who it was. He said that he was in and out of consciousness the entire time he was there.

The doctor had said that Wilbur's wings had been well taken care of while he was there, and mentioned that he had gone into an emergency molt due to the damage to his wings.

Wilbur knew that, but acted surprised and like he hadn't noticed. Tommy had looked at him in concern, knowing how he is with molts. The doctor had come to the conclusion that whoever had rescued Wilbur had to have some kind of knowledge of avian powers, or had wings themselves.

Tommy had been suspicious at that point, but Phil and Techno didn't draw the same conclusion from the looks of it.

After a day or so of examinations, Wilbur was cleared to go on patrols again. His wings were deemed to have recovered enough and that there was nothing else wrong with him.

But before he could go out, Tommy had started to interrogate him.

"Are you sure you don't remember anything?" The blond had asked. "Nothing at all? Not even a scent? A sound? Anything?"

At the mention of a scent, Wilbur had to turn away to avoid blushing.

His nemesis's damn cologne had clung to him until he took a shower and washed his hero costume. But he swore he could still fucking smell it and he was wrestling with himself on how to feel about it.

Because he was half convinced that Ace had probably scent marked him and he couldn't decide which side of him he should agree with on the argument.

There was the logical side which reasoned that it was harmless. That nothing would come of it. He would go back to his hero work and not think about it. Everything was fine and next time he saw the shrike avian things would be normal.

And then there were his instincts.

His magpie.

And the typically dormant side of him was suddenly awake and was throwing a fit.

How the fuck was it not a big deal!?

Scent marking was a claim. A claim!

It means he was wanted! Someone wanted him!

Ace had taken him to his base, his nest. He had let Wilbur stay and recover in his fucking nest. And it wasn't just that, of course not, that'd be too easy! Because the shrike avian had taken care of him too!

Not just small things like food and water, but company, tending to his injuries, bringing him nesting materials, preening! That had been one of the easiest molts of his life. He only had two nightmares about the training program. Two! That was a new record!

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