Alone With Him

Nightmare's are good fluff stories.

Ace dozed off before Wilbur was even sleepy, raven hair on the pillow curling at the ends.

Raven hair, umber hair, such beautiful dark locks.

His eyes were shut and his breathing was even, he looked so peaceful and soft lying there innocently.

"My little angel, my sweet baby bird, my light, my hero"

Sometimes Wilbur wondered what kind of bird his darling was. Perhaps a wood duck or some other passive bird but that didn't seem to fit right. His other half was much too passionate for some push over bird.

He thought maybe some kind of off-coloured corvin, like his own family aside from himself and his mother. It fit the intelligence but still wasn't special enough. Not for his birdie.

The coiling beast in his heart rumbled an agreeing statement, scales running one over the other as it's tail lashed.

Typically he payed no mind to his inner beast, most were taught to ignore them but he knew better. It easy to kill feelings, infinitely harder to bring them back from the grave. Unlike himself.

He lovingly traced shapes and spirals on his darlings sleeping form, running scarred hands along his shoulders whilst smiling like a school girl sitting with her crush at lunch.

"Rest easy my angel, I'll always protect you. I have been and i will keep doing it, I'll keep watching over you baby bird."

These statements didn't seem to ease the sleeping avian as he began to toss and turn, muttering pleas in his no longer restful sleep. Wilbur placed his hands under the avians shirt, blushing only slightly, focusing his powers on soothing his angel's mind.

He sighed quietly, this avain could not be put to sleep easily nor quickly. Mentally cursing himself for not being stronger, Wilbur dove into his own mind trying to push that serenity on the younger doing his best to calm him.

You're so USELESS!!

FUCKING (Bad gay slur i refuse to write)

You can't be a hero, you're gay!

DUMB BASTARD!! You broke my car!!

What kind of hero destroys things!? You'll never make it out there Quackity.

You'll never be good enough Quackity.

Quackity? Was that his baby bird's name? It was beautiful...

Roaming through the abyss that was the other's mind Wilbur was taking in all the nightmare's his darling had ever gone through. Something his father often used to make him do for his brothers that he now did to protect those he cared about.

He had a lot.

Nightmare's about his so called partners, Wilbur was convinced he should kill them.

Nightmare's about villians he recogized and heroes he didn't.

He noted how many voices where running rampent, counted each voice that screamed for Ace and each pleaded for Quackity. Wilbur didn't like that they were pleading it meant they knew his birdie, or they wanted to making them a threat. The beast didn't give any mercy to those threats, lashing about finding each voice that it could and destroying the memory. It of course couldn't do much damage, it's efforts would be reduced to slight fogginess when trying to remember things.

Wilbur rumaged around in his mind a little longer, trying to bring peace to the avians thoughts when he heard something that made the beast stop it's thrashing. Something called out again making the beast freeze up more.

"Wilbur!!"

He rushed towards the sound finding a locked box, it rattled and shook when he touched it. He tried to unlock it but was forced back into his own mind in a wave of nausea.

"The FUCK was that!? What were you doing in my head!?"

The sudden screaming hurt his ears and as Quackity pushed him away Wilbur could feel his heart aching.

His eyes watered a little and he dammned himself for being weak, how was his darling meant to love him if he was so fucking pathetic.