A Taste For Chicken

Elementia - Part 2

As Hawks and Halcyon walked into the hushed, sterile atmosphere of the courthouse, the weight of the moment pressed down on them both. The air was thick with tension, the polished floors echoing with each step they took. Hawks adjusted his tie, feeling the weight of the moment. He followed the officer through a quiet corridor until they reached a small, unassuming reception room.

Inside, Eraserhead was already waiting, his usual stoic expression in place. He rose from his seat, nodding at them both. Hawks offered a casual, "Hey, Eraser," but Halcyon’s response was more reserved. She nodded back politely but couldn’t hide the underlying disdain in her posture. It was subtle, but the edge was there. Eraser noticed, of course. He always did.

He gave Hawks a brief, knowing look before gesturing for them to sit. Hawks sank into the chair beside Halcyon, smoothing out his jacket as Eraserhead remained standing, his gaze shifting between the two of them.

“So,” Eraser began, voice steady and calm, “I need to know if she’s been following the parole rules and expectations.”

Hawks leaned back in his chair, trying to keep the atmosphere light, despite the gravity of the situation. "She has, mostly," He nodded at Halcyon, offering a reassuring glance in her direction, “She’s made a lot of effort. A lot of improvement since she started.”

Eraserhead didn’t look entirely convinced. He reached for a thin folder on the table, flipping it open with practiced ease. Inside were a few reports—simple infractions, nothing major, but still just enough to raise eyebrows. He held up the examples of her breaking curfew and stepping outside of her designated areas, all recorded by the tracking bracelet on her wrist.

Halcyon didn’t offer any excuses, just shrugged lightly, her face blank but resigned. It was a small gesture, but one that carried a lot of weight. She wasn’t apologizing, nor was she defiant. She just didn’t care enough to explain herself.

Eraserhead’s lips pressed into a thin line, clearly irritated by her indifference. His dark eyes flicked back to Hawks, seeking some kind of explanation.

Hawks shifted in his seat, his wings twitching slightly as he considered his next move. “Look,” he said, leaning forward, his voice dropping a little to soften the blow, “she’s actually making real progress. I mean, yeah, she’s had a few slip-ups here and there, but that’s expected, right? She’s been through a lot. We gotta give her a little leeway.”

Eraser’s expression didn’t change much, but Hawks could see the slight softening in his eyes. He wasn’t completely unmoved.

“I’ve seen her trying,” Hawks continued, his tone more earnest now, “She’s been making strides—going to therapy, following the rules and doing her patrols, helping out where she can even off duty. And yeah, she bends the rules here and there, but it’s not because she’s trying to cause trouble. She’s adapting, and that’s more than what any of us expected when this all started.”

Hawks could feel Halcyon’s eyes on him as he spoke. She hadn’t looked at him like that in a long time, and he knew it. But he didn’t meet her gaze, focusing on keeping her from throwing more fuel onto the fire. He wasn’t doing this just for her anymore. He wanted her to succeed too, to find a way through this mess—even if it meant pulling her out of it himself.

Eraserhead sighed, closing the folder. “The rules aren’t suggestions, Hawks," he said sternly, "They’re meant to ensure everyone’s safety, including hers.”

“I get that,” Hawks replied quickly, his tone still calm but firm, “And I’m not excusing anything. But she’s making a real effort. That has to count for something, right?”

Eraser studied Hawks for a long moment before nodding slightly. “I’ll take your word for it," he said finally, "But this can’t keep happening. The next report of a violation, and it’s going to be out of your hands.”