If only, if only. 1/2
Title: If only, if only.
Chapter: 1/2
Universe: Gliptan universe of Headfeathers.
Rating: Adult
Genre: Angst. Seriously super sad heavy angst.
Characters: Serif, Ringmaster, Schrecklich, Lucy, Cashyew.
Spoilers: Takes place after the plot line of the Headfeathers webcomic. Some mentions of the plot line for the comic, and some pairings. Over all, not too bad of a spoiler. Rating of spoiler, 4/10.
Lucy had been the one to see it happen. If only she had been five seconds faster, if only she had thought to look there before going to the stream, if only she had stopped him walking out the door…
If only if only.
She had screamed his name just as he disappeared, running to the edge, watching him vanish once again under the dark water. Gone. She hadn’t known what to do. She was an insect, a bug, she couldn’t fly, she couldn’t swim. She couldn’t go after him.
“Cashyew, CASHYEW!” She tore herself away from the cliff edge, running to the smudge on the hill that was the town. How far it looked. But she had to get help, she couldn’t go after him like she wanted. If only she could fly, if only she had grabbed him, if only there was a path…
If only if only.
Ten minutes, was that too long? Cash had Ringmaster in his feet, flying hard and fast to the cliff. The human was tall, but he was light, which helped. He needed the human, he wouldn’t be able to find their friend without him. Ring and Serif had a connection that neither of them understood. But it hadn’t kept this from happening. Diving down the cliff face, Cash flared his wings, flapping hard and fast to try and slow himself down. He wasn’t a bird of prey, he couldn’t dive and lift up again. But he was in a rush. He rushed now… but if he had only not been in a rush then, if only he had been there to listen to Serif, if only he’d noticed…
If only, if only.
Ringmaster felt Cashyew let go of his arms, letting him drop the last few feet to the rocks. He fell, large feet hitting a rock, his body following into a crouch. Holding his staff over his head Ring let his magic fill the pumpkin perched at the top, his eyes and its eyes glowing bright green as the dark waters began to churn. He had to find Serif. He had to save his friend. Seemed that after all the work he and the others did to save Ring, Serif had been paying for it and was the one now needing rescuing. Was that how the world worked? When one wasn’t in peril anymore, it had to go to someone else? How long would Serif need saving? If only Ring hadn’t been sneaking around with Schre, if only his connection with Serif had warned him, if only his magic had been there sooner…
If only, if only.
Schrecklich stood high up on the edge of the cliff, watching Ringmaster and Cashyew work. His lover, Serif, was down there, somewhere. And he had never felt so helpless. Serif was somewhere Schrecklich couldn’t go. The mouse, still in his lab coat and boots, was shaking violently. He was afraid. Afraid that he’d never see that bright smile again, never hear that screeching laugh, never touch those soft feathers. Lucy put an arm around the mammal, whispering in his large ears. He couldn’t hear it. All he could hear was what if. If only he’d been with Serif more during the day, instead of slinking behind his back with Ringmaster, planning and plotting. If only he’d spent time with Serif, talking and listening, rather than in his own world. If only he’d given back to Serif what the fish hawk had given to him…
If only, if only.
Cashyew scooped up the soaked and broken body from the water as Ringmaster’s magic pulled it from the deep waters, shouting that he’d be back for the human as he raced back to the top. He had to get Serif to help, that was more important than a living-dead human being stranded on some rocks for a bit. Besides, Ring had magic. Clutching the sopping wet form to his chest, Cash ignored the strain his wings were feeling. He wasn’t meant to hover and dive and swoop like that. But he didn’t care. Serif’s life was in his arms. Through his feathers the cardinal could feel how cold Serif’s feathers were, how still the body was, how light his friend was. Serif was under fed, always had been, they all knew it. He ate like a horse and was always underweight, even for a bird (let alone a flightless bird.) But here, laden with water, he shouldn’t feel this light. If only they had seen him getting thinner, if only they had let him talk now and then instead of dealt with their own needy lives all the time, if only they knew what had done this…
If only, if only.
Schrecklich watched the red bird set down his love. Schrecklich pushed him aside, demanding that he went for help. Cashyew stepped back, unable to tear his eyes away until Lucy stood in his way, catching his eyes with hers, and quietly telling him that he was the fastest, he needed to get help. Nodding, the cardinal took off in the air once more. Schrecklich was shaking, taking in the unmoving Serif with disbelief. What had they done? What had he done? Holding his breath the mouse set his large ear to the bird’s chest. Nothing. No heartbeat, no breath, everything was still and quiet. If only he were breathing, if only he was awake, if only he hadn’t fallen…
If only, if only.
“No, no!” Schrecklich repeated the word over and over, louder and louder, as he pushed the sodden chestfluff out of the way, gathering his body weight, pounding on Serif’s chest. That damned beak. It was always in the way. Serif needed to breathe, he needed air. But that beak, that stupid hawk curve, was in the way. It always had been. He remembered Serif telling him once that it was always in the way. Eating, drinking, opening things. It helped with cans, though. His feathers had the hardest time opening pop top cans, or bottles with metal caps. The hook could always open them though. It had been a fun day. It was so long ago, so far away now. Now that Serif was lying at Schrecklich’s knees, dead, dying, underwater for far too long. Falling from such a height, hitting water. He might as well have hit a concrete sidewalk from this height. And the rocks, the waves and tides throwing him into the rocks. Schre could see it, in his mind’s eye. Serif needed to breathe. He needed to live. If only that hook wasn’t there. If only he could find a way to breathe for his Serif, if only he could whip up something to keep him alive…
If only, if only.
The eagles beat Cashyew back to the cliff. Large golden eagles, with strong wings and a hammock between them. Gently they pushed Schrecklich aside, depositing Serif onto the canvas, taking to flight. Cashyew watched, then turned to the cliff, going down its face to pick up Ringmaster once more. Lucy wrapped her arms around Schrecklich, whispering in his ear once more. He didn’t hear it. All he could see was the prone broken body, all he could feel was the cold, wet feathers, all he could hear was the empty nothingness. If only he’d been faster, if only he’d had something to help Serif breathe, if only he could Serif again…
If only, if only.
The group spent hours in the hospital waiting room. Ringmaster sat in a chair far too small for the tall human, staff leaning against the wall beside him, playing with his hat. Cashyew was pacing, fretful and unable to sit longer than two minutes. Lucy couldn’t sit either. She kept getting up to get coffee for someone, or to get a snack, or to get this or that. She couldn’t stand being in the hospital for so long. Schrecklich just sat, numb, eyes on the door that he knew the doctor would have to come out of to tell them. To tell them what? That Serif was dead, that there was nothing they could do, that the love of his life was never to smile again. What if he never made another memory with Serif? What if he never felt his warmth again? If only he’d held him closer, if only Serif had moved in with him, if only he didn’t spend so much time in his lab…
If only, if only.
When the doctor finally came through the doors the group swarmed him like they had already been standing for him. As the hedgehog started in on the list of injuries Serif had taken on, Schrecklich’s legs grew weaker and weaker. He was listing everything wrong with him, but he didn’t say if the osprey was alive or not. As the list grew, and grew, and grew, Ringmaster had to catch the mouse as his knees gave out. Holding the tan creature, Ring envied him. To be able to find such weakness while he forced himself to be strong. Deceptively still hands held up the mouse as they stood, listening. A broken neck, a back broken in three places, an arm crushed from shoulder to feather tip, a cracked beak, legs that were utterly destroyed, a smashed pelvis, cracked ribs… on and on and on…
“If he survives the night, there’s a chance he may recover.”
If only, if only.
Schrecklich spent the night in the hospital, sitting at Serif’s bedside. The laws of Blignaught concerning domestic partners were far more lenient than the rest of their world. Serif had always hoped to change the world’s view. Schrecklich hoped to join him one day in changing it. But right now, right now he could care less about the rest of the world. Touching the one undamaged hand, Schre felt his heart drop at how cold it was. Serif was breathing by the grace of a machine. His heart beating by the wonders of science. Doctor Schrecklich had been the one to create that machine in the first place. To think, his tinkering with bringing the dead back to life to be his test creatures in his lab now was keeping his lover from dying again. Serif looked so small in the bed, many of his feathers having been removed during surgery. The chest poof was gone, leaving a bald spot that was covered by bandages and stitches and wounds. The four giant head feathers, that made Serif so distinctive in a crowd, were sitting bent and destroyed on the bedside table. They had to be removed to get to the crack in the back of his skull. His head, too, was wrapped in cloth bandages. His left eye was covered, now sitting empty. His glasses had taken the bright yellow eye. If only Schre could see those eyes again, if only he could see the chipped and cracked beak smile at him again, if only the arms that were full of bolts and metal rods could hold him again.
If only, if only.
Serif did survive through the night. Schre was pretty sure it had to do with the machines more than anything else. But he was alive, for now, and able to start healing. That was all that mattered. It was going to be slow, but it was going to be able to happen. Months passed, Schrecklich never left the hospital room unless he was hauled out by the nurses. Ringmaster was there almost as often. Though he couldn’t stay the night, he was there every day, checking in on Schrecklich and Serif, talking to the unconscious osprey, making sure the mouse ate and slept, making sure that when Serif woke up there’d be a Schrecklich to come back too. Yes, when, not if. Because Ringmaster didn’t like the if part of the equation. Because being underwater for twelve or more minutes never boded well. A broken neck and back never boded well. A broken skull never boded well. But look at him, he had been decapitated. And he was still here. Very different, yes, but it gave him hope. If only Serif had been charged with magic the way Ringmaster was, if only he had been the one to watch Serif fall instead of Lucy, if only they had been faster…
If only, if only.
Months came and went. As Schre was being taken care of by Ring, as the others came to visit every chance they got, Schrecklich was taking care of Serif. Holding his hand, holding one-sided conversations, sobbing late at night because of how alone he was. Serif was wasting away, growing thinner and thinner as his bones mended together, as his feathers started to grow back in, as his beak started to shed layers of glue and bone to become one piece again. Then, all of a sudden, his fingers twitched. On both hands, one never hurt and one almost fully mended, his finger feathers twitched. An eye started to move, shift beneath a lid. Schrecklich shifted to sit on the edge of the bed, tail thumping in excitement as he stroked the thin cheek. Eye lids opened, just barley, to show the one remaining fleck of yellow. Heart in his throat, Schre grinned as he leaned down, pressing his nose gently to the patched-up beak.
“Welcome back.” Serif couldn’t answer him. There was still a tube in his beak, down his throat, breathing for him as it had for months. But the reaction that Schrecklich received wasn’t what he expected. He expected a smile, tears, maybe a squeeze on his fingers. Instead he got a sad look, a glance away, the attempted movement of a head still locked in place by a neck brace. Serif didn’t want to look at him, didn’t want to be with him. Serif wasn’t glad to be there, be with him. What had happened to him? If only he could get to the bottom of what was bothering Serif.
If only, if only.
(End of part one.)
Chapter: 1/2
Universe: Gliptan universe of Headfeathers.
Rating: Adult
Genre: Angst. Seriously super sad heavy angst.
Characters: Serif, Ringmaster, Schrecklich, Lucy, Cashyew.
Spoilers: Takes place after the plot line of the Headfeathers webcomic. Some mentions of the plot line for the comic, and some pairings. Over all, not too bad of a spoiler. Rating of spoiler, 4/10.
Lucy had been the one to see it happen. If only she had been five seconds faster, if only she had thought to look there before going to the stream, if only she had stopped him walking out the door…
If only if only.
She had screamed his name just as he disappeared, running to the edge, watching him vanish once again under the dark water. Gone. She hadn’t known what to do. She was an insect, a bug, she couldn’t fly, she couldn’t swim. She couldn’t go after him.
“Cashyew, CASHYEW!” She tore herself away from the cliff edge, running to the smudge on the hill that was the town. How far it looked. But she had to get help, she couldn’t go after him like she wanted. If only she could fly, if only she had grabbed him, if only there was a path…
If only if only.
Ten minutes, was that too long? Cash had Ringmaster in his feet, flying hard and fast to the cliff. The human was tall, but he was light, which helped. He needed the human, he wouldn’t be able to find their friend without him. Ring and Serif had a connection that neither of them understood. But it hadn’t kept this from happening. Diving down the cliff face, Cash flared his wings, flapping hard and fast to try and slow himself down. He wasn’t a bird of prey, he couldn’t dive and lift up again. But he was in a rush. He rushed now… but if he had only not been in a rush then, if only he had been there to listen to Serif, if only he’d noticed…
If only, if only.
Ringmaster felt Cashyew let go of his arms, letting him drop the last few feet to the rocks. He fell, large feet hitting a rock, his body following into a crouch. Holding his staff over his head Ring let his magic fill the pumpkin perched at the top, his eyes and its eyes glowing bright green as the dark waters began to churn. He had to find Serif. He had to save his friend. Seemed that after all the work he and the others did to save Ring, Serif had been paying for it and was the one now needing rescuing. Was that how the world worked? When one wasn’t in peril anymore, it had to go to someone else? How long would Serif need saving? If only Ring hadn’t been sneaking around with Schre, if only his connection with Serif had warned him, if only his magic had been there sooner…
If only, if only.
Schrecklich stood high up on the edge of the cliff, watching Ringmaster and Cashyew work. His lover, Serif, was down there, somewhere. And he had never felt so helpless. Serif was somewhere Schrecklich couldn’t go. The mouse, still in his lab coat and boots, was shaking violently. He was afraid. Afraid that he’d never see that bright smile again, never hear that screeching laugh, never touch those soft feathers. Lucy put an arm around the mammal, whispering in his large ears. He couldn’t hear it. All he could hear was what if. If only he’d been with Serif more during the day, instead of slinking behind his back with Ringmaster, planning and plotting. If only he’d spent time with Serif, talking and listening, rather than in his own world. If only he’d given back to Serif what the fish hawk had given to him…
If only, if only.
Cashyew scooped up the soaked and broken body from the water as Ringmaster’s magic pulled it from the deep waters, shouting that he’d be back for the human as he raced back to the top. He had to get Serif to help, that was more important than a living-dead human being stranded on some rocks for a bit. Besides, Ring had magic. Clutching the sopping wet form to his chest, Cash ignored the strain his wings were feeling. He wasn’t meant to hover and dive and swoop like that. But he didn’t care. Serif’s life was in his arms. Through his feathers the cardinal could feel how cold Serif’s feathers were, how still the body was, how light his friend was. Serif was under fed, always had been, they all knew it. He ate like a horse and was always underweight, even for a bird (let alone a flightless bird.) But here, laden with water, he shouldn’t feel this light. If only they had seen him getting thinner, if only they had let him talk now and then instead of dealt with their own needy lives all the time, if only they knew what had done this…
If only, if only.
Schrecklich watched the red bird set down his love. Schrecklich pushed him aside, demanding that he went for help. Cashyew stepped back, unable to tear his eyes away until Lucy stood in his way, catching his eyes with hers, and quietly telling him that he was the fastest, he needed to get help. Nodding, the cardinal took off in the air once more. Schrecklich was shaking, taking in the unmoving Serif with disbelief. What had they done? What had he done? Holding his breath the mouse set his large ear to the bird’s chest. Nothing. No heartbeat, no breath, everything was still and quiet. If only he were breathing, if only he was awake, if only he hadn’t fallen…
If only, if only.
“No, no!” Schrecklich repeated the word over and over, louder and louder, as he pushed the sodden chestfluff out of the way, gathering his body weight, pounding on Serif’s chest. That damned beak. It was always in the way. Serif needed to breathe, he needed air. But that beak, that stupid hawk curve, was in the way. It always had been. He remembered Serif telling him once that it was always in the way. Eating, drinking, opening things. It helped with cans, though. His feathers had the hardest time opening pop top cans, or bottles with metal caps. The hook could always open them though. It had been a fun day. It was so long ago, so far away now. Now that Serif was lying at Schrecklich’s knees, dead, dying, underwater for far too long. Falling from such a height, hitting water. He might as well have hit a concrete sidewalk from this height. And the rocks, the waves and tides throwing him into the rocks. Schre could see it, in his mind’s eye. Serif needed to breathe. He needed to live. If only that hook wasn’t there. If only he could find a way to breathe for his Serif, if only he could whip up something to keep him alive…
If only, if only.
The eagles beat Cashyew back to the cliff. Large golden eagles, with strong wings and a hammock between them. Gently they pushed Schrecklich aside, depositing Serif onto the canvas, taking to flight. Cashyew watched, then turned to the cliff, going down its face to pick up Ringmaster once more. Lucy wrapped her arms around Schrecklich, whispering in his ear once more. He didn’t hear it. All he could see was the prone broken body, all he could feel was the cold, wet feathers, all he could hear was the empty nothingness. If only he’d been faster, if only he’d had something to help Serif breathe, if only he could Serif again…
If only, if only.
The group spent hours in the hospital waiting room. Ringmaster sat in a chair far too small for the tall human, staff leaning against the wall beside him, playing with his hat. Cashyew was pacing, fretful and unable to sit longer than two minutes. Lucy couldn’t sit either. She kept getting up to get coffee for someone, or to get a snack, or to get this or that. She couldn’t stand being in the hospital for so long. Schrecklich just sat, numb, eyes on the door that he knew the doctor would have to come out of to tell them. To tell them what? That Serif was dead, that there was nothing they could do, that the love of his life was never to smile again. What if he never made another memory with Serif? What if he never felt his warmth again? If only he’d held him closer, if only Serif had moved in with him, if only he didn’t spend so much time in his lab…
If only, if only.
When the doctor finally came through the doors the group swarmed him like they had already been standing for him. As the hedgehog started in on the list of injuries Serif had taken on, Schrecklich’s legs grew weaker and weaker. He was listing everything wrong with him, but he didn’t say if the osprey was alive or not. As the list grew, and grew, and grew, Ringmaster had to catch the mouse as his knees gave out. Holding the tan creature, Ring envied him. To be able to find such weakness while he forced himself to be strong. Deceptively still hands held up the mouse as they stood, listening. A broken neck, a back broken in three places, an arm crushed from shoulder to feather tip, a cracked beak, legs that were utterly destroyed, a smashed pelvis, cracked ribs… on and on and on…
“If he survives the night, there’s a chance he may recover.”
If only, if only.
Schrecklich spent the night in the hospital, sitting at Serif’s bedside. The laws of Blignaught concerning domestic partners were far more lenient than the rest of their world. Serif had always hoped to change the world’s view. Schrecklich hoped to join him one day in changing it. But right now, right now he could care less about the rest of the world. Touching the one undamaged hand, Schre felt his heart drop at how cold it was. Serif was breathing by the grace of a machine. His heart beating by the wonders of science. Doctor Schrecklich had been the one to create that machine in the first place. To think, his tinkering with bringing the dead back to life to be his test creatures in his lab now was keeping his lover from dying again. Serif looked so small in the bed, many of his feathers having been removed during surgery. The chest poof was gone, leaving a bald spot that was covered by bandages and stitches and wounds. The four giant head feathers, that made Serif so distinctive in a crowd, were sitting bent and destroyed on the bedside table. They had to be removed to get to the crack in the back of his skull. His head, too, was wrapped in cloth bandages. His left eye was covered, now sitting empty. His glasses had taken the bright yellow eye. If only Schre could see those eyes again, if only he could see the chipped and cracked beak smile at him again, if only the arms that were full of bolts and metal rods could hold him again.
If only, if only.
Serif did survive through the night. Schre was pretty sure it had to do with the machines more than anything else. But he was alive, for now, and able to start healing. That was all that mattered. It was going to be slow, but it was going to be able to happen. Months passed, Schrecklich never left the hospital room unless he was hauled out by the nurses. Ringmaster was there almost as often. Though he couldn’t stay the night, he was there every day, checking in on Schrecklich and Serif, talking to the unconscious osprey, making sure the mouse ate and slept, making sure that when Serif woke up there’d be a Schrecklich to come back too. Yes, when, not if. Because Ringmaster didn’t like the if part of the equation. Because being underwater for twelve or more minutes never boded well. A broken neck and back never boded well. A broken skull never boded well. But look at him, he had been decapitated. And he was still here. Very different, yes, but it gave him hope. If only Serif had been charged with magic the way Ringmaster was, if only he had been the one to watch Serif fall instead of Lucy, if only they had been faster…
If only, if only.
Months came and went. As Schre was being taken care of by Ring, as the others came to visit every chance they got, Schrecklich was taking care of Serif. Holding his hand, holding one-sided conversations, sobbing late at night because of how alone he was. Serif was wasting away, growing thinner and thinner as his bones mended together, as his feathers started to grow back in, as his beak started to shed layers of glue and bone to become one piece again. Then, all of a sudden, his fingers twitched. On both hands, one never hurt and one almost fully mended, his finger feathers twitched. An eye started to move, shift beneath a lid. Schrecklich shifted to sit on the edge of the bed, tail thumping in excitement as he stroked the thin cheek. Eye lids opened, just barley, to show the one remaining fleck of yellow. Heart in his throat, Schre grinned as he leaned down, pressing his nose gently to the patched-up beak.
“Welcome back.” Serif couldn’t answer him. There was still a tube in his beak, down his throat, breathing for him as it had for months. But the reaction that Schrecklich received wasn’t what he expected. He expected a smile, tears, maybe a squeeze on his fingers. Instead he got a sad look, a glance away, the attempted movement of a head still locked in place by a neck brace. Serif didn’t want to look at him, didn’t want to be with him. Serif wasn’t glad to be there, be with him. What had happened to him? If only he could get to the bottom of what was bothering Serif.
If only, if only.
(End of part one.)