Tommyinnit Oneshots

Hiraeth

Part two of Monachopsis

Avian woke up in a cocoon of something soft and warm. He wasn't met with the low ground sickness that normally make him vomit almost immediately. As his eyes adjusted to his surroundings, he found that he was in a cozy room built from wood with a glass window overlooking some beautiful mountains. Avian shakily stood onto his feet, wandering over to the window with his blanket wrapped around him. He passed the desk that was beside his bed, standing in the walkway that led from the door to the window in between the bed and desk. The world outside the room that could be seen from the window was breathtaking. It was an environment untouched by man but not overrun by its natural elements. It was a long stretch of a grassy plain that morphed into the rocky soil around the base of the mountains. Even from where he stood, Avian could see the snowy peaks of the mountains. He wanted to run outside to climb to the very top, but he shunned the idea away as something his bird instincts fabricated. Dream wouldn't like it if he began devolving even if he had only been gone a day.

Avian remembered being in that medical room waiting for Phil to return with a potion. A phantom hybrid by the name of Wilbur showed up, demanding Avian's name, and when Avian didn't have a proper one, Wilbur offered to name him. After that interaction, Wilbur held Avian while stroking his hair until the hybrid boy fell asleep. Avian's face turned crimson as he remembered what happened. This people were probably trying to kill him, and he just fell asleep in one of their arms? Why? Because the sickness couldn't reach him at high altitudes, it was warm, and his bird brain took over because he was showed the barest amount of affection? Avian felt the sludge of shame building up in his stomach. Was he that easy to manipulate? If he was, how long until the hybrids of the Pub took advantage of this? Avian shuddered to think of what they could and would do to him. He trembled at the thought of what Dream would do if Avian ever got back.

"Oh, you're up early," A voice called as the door creaked open. Avian spun around, his foot catching on the edge of his blanket. Within seconds, his forehead slammed against the cold floor while his blanket covered him up. Avian's fingers gently brushed against the skin of his forehead, and he sucked in a breath as the pain hit him. It wasn't like the initial hitting of his head was the problem, no, what was worse was the headache that began to form beneath the point of impact. Someone else began to reach for Avian, but he scooted away with a heavy flinch. His dull gray eyes met the insanely blue ones of Phil, and Avian knew he had messed up. Not only did he fall in the Elyrian's presence, but he flinched away instead of taking the hit. Avian looked down immediately, trying to force his body to be still.

"Oh, mate, are you okay? I'm sorry for rushing towards you. I was just worried and trying to make sure you weren't hurt," Phil whispered in a near quiet voice that was better than a pounding one considering Avian's headache. What wasn't better were the words themselves. Avian was confused. People like Ant and Bad liked to say confusing stuff to upset Avian, but Phil's words invoked a special type of befuddlement. There was a genuine concern and guilt in them that didn't sound condescending in the slightest. Avian blinked with a mouth gaping, struggling for words that would make sense. Did Phil want the honest answer, or did he want Avian to say he was fine? Avian's brows furrowed as he tried to figure it out. He didn't want an Elytrian to be upset with him. Avian didn't know Phil's rules yet. He didn't expect Phil to explain them, but he had hoped that Phil would drop some hints about what he expected from Avian. Phil didn't do any of that. Avian didn't know what to do. He didn't know how to answer or how to act.

"Shh, mate, calm down. Deep breaths. It's alright. Everything is alright. You're not in trouble," Phil started up again. It was at this point that Avian noticed the burning sensation in his lungs. He supposed he had been so worried about Phil that he stopped breathing. Avian forced his chest to heave, trying to be quiet about his air intake. Phil began to make a soft cooing sound that forced Avian's limbs to relax. He tried to fight back, but Phil sounded this clicking noise that made Avian want to be comforted. Even as the noises continued, Avian strengthened his resolve against them. His muscles tightened once more, and he didn't move an inch closer to Phil's expectant arms. The hardest part was keeping his wings down. They twitched where they were lowered at his sides. The noises made his wings want to be preened until they were pretty again. Avian would settle for them being healthy. He would preen them himself later. He didn't need Phil tricking him into a false sense of security.