Faded Wings [Birdtale Sans x Reader]

Chapter 40- Muffins?

Skyla screamed and laughed loudly as you soared in the air. You smiled and shook your head, focusing ahead of you. The wind whipped past your face and hurt your eyes a little, drying them out quickly. God, I wish I had my goggles, you thought briefly blinking constantly. Take off was always like this. Which was the reason that everyone received goggles in high school. Once the breeze finally calmed down, so that you weren't blinking every 2 seconds. You tapped Skyla's back. She peeked up at you and you jutted your head forward.

"Oh my," she trailed off with wide eyes. She was looking at an upside-down town--she had to tilt her head back to look at it. There were a few people flying around as it was en early Sunday morning, allowing there to be clear skies. The few tall buildings were towering over the smaller businesses and houses. When she looked further back she would see people walking on the floor, looking like ants from how high we were. As tiny toy-like cars drove on the roads in the dawn. You smiled as you glimpsed at her dumbfounded expression.

"Great isn't it," you asked softly.

"Yeah," Skyla marveled.

You two flew quietly until you were over a small cafe. There was a large window filled with a small display of delicious pastries. The window frame was bright white hiding underneath a soft teal canopy. While there was a large sign sitting on top of the canopy. In curvy black letters, it said 'Feather Cafe' with a feather at the end of the e. Above it was John's apartment, where he spent his time when he wasn't working. You slowly landed in front of the building, disappearing your wings and letting Skyla go. You looked through the window to see that it was surprisingly dark and empty. Usually, it was filled with life around this hour as customers walked in to get their morning coffee.

"Why is it so dark in there," Skyla asked as she strolled over and put her hands on the glass. Peering inside, looking for John and your other coworkers.

"I don't know," you trailed off as you narrowed your eyes, "Come on let's go to the back."

You and Skyla strolled around the corner into a dim alley. The left wall was lined with 4 big dumpsters that were used by the cafe. While the right wall, there was a blue door with a creepy light above it. During the night, it looked almost like a horror movie. Telling the poor victim to hid behind the door with the animous, flickering light because it's safe. NOT! However, there were a few additional things that shattered the horror atmosphere. At the foot of the door, there were 2 potted plants of bright, colorful flowers beside it. Also, there was a neat welcome mat that said 'Wipe your paws' with a bunch of paw prints surrounding it.

As you neared the door, you bent down to one of the flower pots. Digging in the dirt a little until you felt a smooth, cold surface. Your coworker, Nicole, would always lose her keys to the cafe and she had the earliest shift. So, John put a key in one of the plants, so that he wouldn't have to keep making copies for her. Also, he didn't want her to keep waking him up with her loud ass knocking. With a small smile, you pulled it out and dusted it off.  You put the grey key into the lock and opened the door. 

"John," you called wandering into the dark kitchen. You glanced at the clean steel counters and unlit oven, wrinkling your nose in confusion. It was usually filled with sweet smells from the doughnuts and muffins baking. Flour and sugar would litter the countertops, along with a few stray sprinkles. Loud laughter would ring in the air, due to everyone's antics and John's scolding. However, it was dead and sad inside. Sending worry and concern throughout your body as you called out again, "John? Are you here?"

Just like Mr. Smith, John was a close family friend. You and your mother would visit him every Sunday, in order to get some of his famous treats. His homey and comfy shop was always a second home for you, even after your mother's death. Unlike Mr. Smith, John didn't pester you about your lack of flying. Nor was he totally on your case when you came begging him for a job either. Instead, he opened his doors and tossed an apron into your hands with a smile. In some ways, he was like the father you never had. So, when the silence was your only reply. Fear coursed through you lightly as you moseyed past the clean counters, Skyla trailing closely behind you.

"Nicole," you tried hoping that your coworkers would answer, "Shawn? Are any of you guys here?" You gently pushed the door kitchen door, peering into the area where the customers would eat. There wasn't a single soul inside sitting at the square blue tables. 

"[Y/N] where is everyone," Skyla inquired. You peeked over your shoulder, Skyla was fiddling with the back of your shirt and biting her lip lightly. The usual signs for her whenever she was scared or worried. 

"I don't kn-"

"Breaking news," a voice chimed in faintly towards your far right. You snapped your head to the direction of the voice, it seemed to be going up the stairs into John's apartment. Quietly you advanced to the foot of the wooden staircase. Making sure not to brush the chain on the side, which was used to prevent customers from going up.  You could see a dim light flicker at the top of the staircase. 

"Yesterday at Feather High during the school's yearly performance an incident occurred," the voice said a little bit louder. You clenched your hand tightly around the wooden railing. John would never leave his tv on, let alone leave the channel on the news. He always hated the news. You began to climb the steps, each groaning underneath your feet. As the light grew brighter and brighter, the voice grew clearer and louder with it.

"Eight year old, Skyla [L/N], was fell from the stands during the break after the senior's performance."

"According to witnesses, it was said that Skyla was pushed over the railing by her father, [Father's Name]."

"They would've died if their sister and the town's only non-flying resident, [Y/N] [L/N], didn't jump off the stands to rescue them."

You stepped into the living room. The entire room was extremely dark when there were two perfectly good lamps in the corners of the room. The only light in the room was from the television as it showed video footage of yesterday's events. You could see trash scattered around the carpeted floor and coffee table. Papers, tissues, wrappers, and used teabags dirtying the usually clean area.  You studied as your sister moseyed to the large brown L shaped couch. Curling up into one of the blankets that had messily thrown over the arms, barely touching the ground. You padded behind the couch and stared at the tv. Watching as it flashed to the images of your wounded wings. You tensed slightly eyeing each and every wound, remembering exactly how you got each one. 

Burned cigarettes.

Tweezers

Kitchen knives.

Belts.

Busted bottles 

Heated metal.

These were just a few items that he used the previous night. The list of weapons went on and on, each ingrained into your head as the pain riddled throughout your body. You would've continued down the list, however, you heard a loud clatter and gasp behind you. Quickly you peered over your shoulder to see a man with his hands over his mouth. Froze still as tears trickled out of his tired eyes.

"Hey, John," you smiled softly, "We were wondering if we could have some muffins."