BOYS WILL BE BUGS ~ Warren x Shrignold

18. talk to me

~talk to me - cavetown~

Days went by, and those days turned into weeks. Shrignold's bandages had been removed, but the one around his head was still there and was changed on a daily basis. His crutches also stayed. Sketch told us both that his left leg may never heal, which was a difficult discussion.

He had now developed his own way of getting around the house. He often used one crunch to reach for high-placed items, he had tried using his wings a couple times, but it was futile considering that they were nothing but burnt and torn paper attached to his back.

The eye that had also been entirely burnt off in the fire, still covered with bandage, had made it hard for him to see. His depth perception had been drastically altered, and almost every turn he took resulted in him running into something. Though as time went on, he got a slight bit more used to it, and now moved slower around tight spaces.

The pain in my back had grown near unbearable. Even simply straightening my posture sent a shock of pain through my body, though I simply clenched my teeth and smiled, trying not to make a sound. Nobody seemed to notice except Shrignold, who often privately worried to me about my pain, which I comforted him everytime that it was nothing severe. He never bought it.

I looked in the mirror almost every morning and saw now two purple-and-black bruised nubs fin my back, which were tender and raw to the touch. I now slept on my stomach to avoid that pain, which I had gotten used to.

I now shared my room with Shrignold. I was happy to. Now that we fell asleep every night next to each other, I felt happier, and I think Shrignold did as well. 

The drastic pain in my back had spread almost everywhere in my body. Sometimes I woke up with pounding headaches that prevented me from seeing or thinking straight. God, I didn't know getting my wings would hurt this much...

Shrignold often brought me ice packs when I didn't even ask. I never want to ask, I've never wanted people to waste their concern on me.

Shrignold was the exact opposite. He worried about everyone, even if they had never really liked him, such as Gilbert or Colin.

The orange from the sky had completely cleared, returning back to its baby-blue state. One day me and Shrignold had taken a hike right below where the Malcom statue wonder stood in the clouds, and we saw it's charred, crumble being laying in the shady grass and ferns. Moss had already begun to cling to the stone. Shirgnold was aloof about it, expressing not one ounce of guilt nor compassion for his past leader.

The day was now Thursday, not that it mattered. I sat up on the side of the bed and ran my fingers through my matted purple hair. I took a deep breath and gathered my thoughts. As I began to ease into consciousness, I realized something...

It felt as if a great deal of pain had been lifted off my body, immediately I tried craning my neck to my back, but couldn't because of the soreness that still lingered. I got up,  careful not to wake Shrignold, and raced down the hallway to the bathroom. Locking the door behind me, I took off my night shirt and turned my back to the mirror, craning my neck as far as I could. 

My breath caught. Low and behold, two tawny-brown wings were flattened against my back, extending just to my tailbone. The definite didn't look as I expected. The wings were littered with raw patches of flesh that stung to the touch and the feathered were ruffled out in awkward positions...

The area around them was still bruised, it would be like that for a while, I assumed. Ah hell, what do I do with my shirts? Do I cut holes in the back?... questions raced through my head as I studied the new features on my back. I shifted my arm slightly, wondering how- or if, I could move the wings. I placed my muscle tension in my shoulder, causing the right wing to move the smallest bit. 

I did it again with more pressure, and it begins to slightly extend. Though once I recognized a growing pain, I stopped, and the wing fell flat again.

Pivoting behind me and opening the door, excited to tell Shrignold the news, I saw him leaning out the door on his crunches. His eyes were half-lidded and he tiredly turned his head in all directions to see where I was.

I stepped up to him and he spotted me. "Shrig! You won't believe it, I got my wings!"  I whisper-shouted, making sure not to wake anyone else in the house up. I smiled giddily, Shrignold's eyes went wide as he ushered me back in the room.

~tiny le time skip~

I hunched over on the edge of the bed, my shirt still off as Shrig gingerly inspected my wings. "Incredible..." he muttered under his breath as he gently ran his fingers through the brown feathers. "The flesh patches and odd-placed feathers are merely because your wings were late to sprout. Usually they come out malformed in such cases, but they should start correcting themselves and healing in no time."

He smiled tenderly and leaned forward to give me a small kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, Shrig. I'm so glad I have you to talk to..." Shirgnold rested his cheek against my head. "Oh Warren, you can talk to me about anything..."

I took a deep breath and sulked in my mind. I should have told Shrignold about Lesley and what I saw upstairs...but I knew that it was a claim far too outrageous, for no one would believe it in the slightest. It was better to wipe that information from my mind, to never think of it again. Besides, I was happy now, I didn't need to dwell on the past...did I?

"And who knows? Once the wings are all healed perhaps we could take you for a flight test." I tilted my head at Shrig. "A flight test?" I echoed. Shrignold nodded with a smile. 

"Do you think the wings will support my body weight?" I asked. "Perhaps. Even if not, it would be cool to see if you could  fly. Don't you think?" 

My spirits began to lift. "That would be nice." Shrignold giggled happily and gave me a hug, again careful to avoid my healing wings. "I'm so happy! I bet everyone will be pleased..."

"I bet so..."

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