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rking200 · 6 months ago

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DBH Rarepairs Week Day 2: Wings!AU

The Rooftop Menagerie Markus/Rupert Hurt/Comfort T-Rating 7.6k Words AO3 Link Markus is a humanoid with wings and he lives his daily life with them tucked safely away beneath his clothes. Following the poor choice of an early-morning flight, Markus is gunned down and was ready to die by the hands of his attackers. A fat pigeon comes to his rescue and fans the flames of life within him, leading Markus to a bird sanctuary: an abandoned building with a sole caretaker, Rupert. Rupert finds himself taking care of a bird much bigger than he's used to, and they both show a mutual fondness for each other as stress and anxiety push them closer. This got completely out of hand and will probably get another chapter or two added onto it in the future.

The aching in his shoulder blades was growing to be almost too much to handle. It used to be that Markus could go about his daily life, pretending to be something he wasn't, for months at a time without removing his feet from the ground, but he was finding the urge to fly week after week at this point.

He always let his wings out when he had the privacy to do so; but it wasn't enough. He wanted to work the muscles, to feel the tension from his full weight on them; he wanted to feel the air sting his face and whistle against his ears. He needed the warmth of the sunlight to spread over his wings as he soared, melting the aches and pains from the days of hiding away. But even when Markus was willing to risk everything just for some flight time, it had to be done in the dark. Away from prying eyes.

Maybe that was the reason for the aches, for the itching. He hadn't felt sunlight--real sunlight, close and burning--in forever and it was quickly eating away at his mind and his body.

It was time for a change of pace.

Markus promised himself that he would only fly at night when he couldn't handle the scratching in his back anymore, but it was time to break that promise. Not fully, no, but to fly as the night turned to day--to enjoy the gentle sun rays as they first passed over the horizon.

In the late hours of the night, Markus placed himself in an abandoned corridor within Detroit. He removed his shirt and rolled it up into a cross body bag, allowing his wings to stretch out in the dwindling moonlight. He double checked his bag for his necessities: his shirt was safely packed along with a bottle of water, his phone and his wallet. He wrapped the bag around himself, careful to get the strap against his spine and between his wings, snapping it into place with the body of the bag against his chest.

After a few deep breaths Markus flapped his wings and left the ground, enjoying the strain his body put on them. He was quick to gain altitude as the higher he was, the less likely he was to be spotted. He knew he shouldn't be indulging and the fear of doing so pounded hard in his chest. He knew the humans were quick to kill anything new or different in the name of studying it.

Markus tried to push the anxieties out of his mind as he flew higher and higher still. He would feel uneasy and unsafe until the sun started to peek through the night, and as the first rays caressed his feathers he felt the rush of adrenaline pushing down all of his bad thoughts.

A smile came to his lips, as well as a laugh that was lost immediately upon the stinging wind.

Trying to blend in was all so very exhausting, especially when this was the only time he really felt alive. He dreaded having to touch his feet back to the ground, and while he tried not to focus on those negative feelings they still invaded the corners of his mind; ever-present, ever-pressing.

The air was too still for a moment, and Markus knew something was wrong before the ear-piercing noise rang out in the distance. He heard the shot from the gun and instinctively tried to dodge mid-flap, but he wasn't quick enough to escape unscathed. A burning pain shot through his right wing, and as he attempted to catch himself in the air another shot rang out. His shoulder on that same side took the brunt of the second fire, the bullet catching some feathers on its way out. Markus felt his bag loosen from his body--the strap must have gotten grazed--but he was in no position to focus on his bag while he was careening to the ground. It fell away from him, his belongings lost on the wind.

Markus was not graceful as he fell but he did manage to dampen the fall with his good wing. He hit the ground with a thud, but he suffered no other damage besides his two bullet wounds.

His good wing shielded him from the dirt beneath him and he pressed his face into it, leaning on that side as he felt the gush of wet heat from his opposite shoulder. He moved his bad wing with a hiss, the pain shooting from it and doubling within his shoulder wound.

Markus pressed himself into his good wing, panting in pain, his brow drenched in sweat. His mind raced with what he needed to do: to get out of here before they found him, to locate his belongings so that they didn't fall into their hands and his ruse be up, to stand up--to get up--to stop his bleeding--

But did any of that matter? The humans had already caught him, hadn't they? If he just let himself bleed out here it might be a more pleasant death than whatever the humans might do to him.

Markus accepted his fate, pressing into his wing even more and feeling the blood drip from wounds. He lost himself within that feeling for a moment, before something caught his attention. Something was tugging at one of his feathers, possibly a small animal. He shifted his wing under himself more, determined to die here and to try to do it in peace.

But the tugging started again. Annoyance bubbled alongside his pain, and Markus lifted his head to see what could possibly want his attention at a time like this.

He met eyes with a pigeon. Just a common grey bird with iridescent wings, looking up at him with innocence and determination.

"Let me die." Markus' words were weak, catching in his dry throat as he spoke. The pigeon pecked at him again, unlikely to give up on its heroic exploits. Markus had no choice but to move his good wing from under himself, grunting in pain as he did so. He braced himself on his good arm for a moment, taking deep breaths before sitting up and glaring at the fat bird.

It hopped forward, tilting its head and pecking the ground at Markus. It cooed, gentle but desperate, hoping that the much larger bird would take its words to heart.

"You want me to follow you? Wha--where?" Markus had no issue understanding the bird's words, but he couldn't understand why the bird wanted to help him so badly. The bird hopped around before flying up in the air, perching on a nearby tree branch and continuing its message.

Somewhere that was safe, with someone who could help him. Someone who helped all birds, it seemed. "A human isn't going to help me." Markus slumped forward, ready to lay his face back down into the dirt. The pigeon flew in front of him, its feathers puffed out in a bid to stop him.

Markus felt compelled, against his better judgment. Maybe this human knew of those like himself, maybe he really did help 'all birds'. With a grunt, Markus agreed to allow the pigeon to show him the way. It took him a moment to stand, but the adrenaline of the wounds and the fall suddenly coursed through his veins. He kept his wings close to his body, even if the bad one hurt horribly to move. He pressed his good wing around his chest, covering the wound in an attempt to slow the bleeding. He followed the overfed pigeon--easy to spot as it flew ahead--as he was led into a run-down but developed part of Detroit.

The morning light was causing the city to start to stir, and the familiar noises of cars and humans chattering could be heard in the distance. There were no sounds of police sirens, nor heavy footsteps chasing them. That was good, at the very least.

Markus wished he had his shirt or anything to make himself feel less exposed. It was nice to feel the sun over his wings, but there was no way to enjoy it in a time like this.

With a coo, the pigeon ducked within the crumbling walls of an abandoned building. The inside was dark and full of debris, but it was safer than the streets despite the obstacles. They ducked in and out of abandoned buildings and courtyards. Markus struggled, especially as the adrenaline started to run low; he found himself wondering if he was on some wild pigeon chase.

Had the bird lost its way?

The pigeon called out to let him know that they had made it, just as the thought had crossed Markus' mind. He tilted his head up skyward at the building before them. It looked just as abandoned as the rest, but if there was help here he was ready to seek it out. The pigeon led him in through a secret entrance, covered by a piece of wood, showing him the way to the internal staircase and flying up to their destination floor.

It was nice for the bird to take him through what would be seen as the 'human' entrance, instead of flying up to wherever the bird entrance had been. He was still bleeding but the blood wasn't flowing as it had when he first started chasing the pigeon, meaning there was somewhat of a trail for somebody to follow, but he hoped it had dispersed enough for anyone to lose his trail.

Markus made his way up to the floor marked with a cooing pigeon, huffing and puffing the entire way. Sweat dripped from him and he was starting to feel dizzy. He stopped for a moment to breathe before he pressed his weight on the door, allowing the bird to fly out into the hallway before him. The hall was scattered with feathers from small birds of different types, as well as their droppings. It looked like no human lived here, although Markus knew there had to be one.

Humans were usually more focused on cleaning than this, though. The bird fluttered and landed in front of a door, preening under its own wing as it waited for Markus to catch up.

In hindsight, Markus probably should have knocked. Instead, he leaned on the door for a moment before turning the knob, pressing with his full weight and stumbling into the room. A narrow hall with a few doors on either side greeted him; the door opposite him stood open and inside was a fluttering of wings. Markus, his strength almost completely gone, braced himself on the wall as he walked forward and towards the open door, making sure to shut the front door behind him.

Startled, birds of different types flew from the ground up into holes in the ceiling, looking for safety from the stumbling figure that leaned in the doorway. The kind pigeon who had led him here flew past his cheek, its feathers brushing up against his.

Rupert was the name of the human he was looking for, and it was Rupert who turned to face Markus from the window, casting light into the room as he moved away. Markus gritted his teeth at the fear in Rupert's eyes, wondering if this had really been the right choice.

"I..." He took a deep breath, leaning more of his body weight onto the doorframe. "I need help."

Rupert looked him over, clenching his fists in front of his torso and releasing a few times, an unconscious action born from anxiety, perhaps. He swallowed, tilting his head down so that Markus could barely make out his eyes under the shadow of his hat.

"You came to the right place." His voice was slow and feeble, anxiety cracking through. He didn't move immediately, but when he did it was desperate and quick. The birds hopped out of his way--as if knowing the path he would take even in his panicked state--creating a bare spot in the floor wherever Rupert was going to step next. There had to be hundreds populating this room alone.

Rupert started opening cabinets and drawers, frantically searching for something. He removed a box of bird seed from a drawer and immediately dropped it to the floor, causing a scare in the birds along with a feeding frenzy; they fluttered around Rupert, uncaring to his current dismay, looking for a chance to swoop in and steal some forbidden, dropped seeds. Rupert raised his voice, groaning in frustration--but not at his birds, that much was very clear. The birds took no hard feelings in the outburst, happy to peck away at the same food that stood in bowls not even three feet away.

Rupert found what he was looking for in a floor-level cabinet, standing up quickly with a meager first-aid kit in his hands. He walked over to Markus, confident in his steps as his birds moved out of his way. He stopped abruptly before Markus, fear and excitement shining in his hat-shielded eyes.

"You can take a seat." Rupert gestured over to a chair, taking a second glance and having to move to shoo some birds off of it. He brushed away downy feathers with his palm, looking back at Markus expectantly.

It took a lot of effort for Markus to move away from the doorframe. Rupert reached out an arm to help, which Markus was grateful for. He placed his hand on his arm, putting a bit of weight on Rupert as he slid into his seat, mindful of how Rupert almost buckled under him. Why offer help if you can't physically give it?

"Thanks, Rupert." Markus huffed through his nose as he removed his good wing from its place over his wound, the feathers sticking to the dried blood but coming free nonetheless.

"I didn't know my birds were tattletales." Rupert's hat had been removed and placed on the floor, where a few birds fought over who got to sit in it. He kneeled in front of Markus, leaning against his legs to take a look at his wound. "I guess I'm thankful for it. Although this feels like a dream."

He was right, Markus mused. He tilted his head back as Rupert touched around his wound, closing his eyes tight in a hollow attempt to will the pain away. A mythical creature had just walked into his house and demanded assistance. Any human would think that they were dreaming. Markus was just lucky that this one really did want to help him, but he dreaded what Rupert might want in return for his services.

Rupert stood up suddenly, interrupting Markus' meditation. He watched the birds clear a path to what looked like the bathroom, where Rupert picked up a bottle of water and poured a bit on a rag. He leaned over the sink to squeeze out the excess water before turning on his heel, the path before him bare.

The cold water stung his wound, and Markus gripped the chair and took in a whistling breath through clenched teeth. "Sorry, sorry." Rupert in fact did not sound sorry, his words no more than a mumble to himself. He glanced up at Markus before looking back to the wound, his messy hair sticking to his forehead. "If that hurt, I'm really sorry for what I'm about to put you through." Markus groaned as Rupert reached for the first aid kit, getting a bottle of something and pouring a bit onto the rag he was just cleaning him up with.

"I might pass out." The words didn't sound like they were Markus', but he was sure he had moved his lips. He was starting to slip, as much as he wanted not to.

"That's alright." The tone in Rupert's voice was almost teasing, causing Markus to feel like maybe it would be best if he fought whatever urge he had to close his eyes. Rupert exchanged a few glances up to Markus before pressing the rag against his wound.

The searing pain of the antiseptic made Markus yell out in pain and in doing so, he unintentionally spread both of his wings out on either side of him. Not only did he have to deal with the stinging of the antiseptic, but now his bad wing shot pain all the way up his shoulder blades and into his chest. He panted, sweating now more than ever. It was almost too much but Markus knew he could handle it. He had to.

The rag was moved from his wound not a moment too soon. Markus attempted to catch his breath, his face tilted up to the ceiling with his eyes shut tight. He felt Rupert's hands near the wound again and groaned as he poked and prodded. Rupert was quiet, not even mumbling a sorry in reply, focused on the actions Markus refused to look at.

Pressure was placed on his wound and there it stayed--gauze or a bandage, perhaps.

"Can you lean forward for me? I've got to do the same to your back." Rupert's hands placed very little pressure on his side in an attempt to move him. Markus opened his eyes, blinking the sweat out of them and focusing on Rupert.

"More?" Markus threw his head back and let out a very unsteady sigh.

"I mean, if you'd like to bleed out from the exit wound you can, but I'd have to ask you to leave." That teasing tone was once again rooted within Rupert's voice. Markus shook his head before shifting in his seat, turning to allow Rupert access to the wound on the back of his shoulder. As he turned he noticed the cheeky grin on Rupert's face, feeling it wholly inappropriate given the current circumstances.

Rupert moved around his wings carefully, putting a wet part of the rag against his wound. With gentle blotting he cleaned up the area around it before taking in a deep breath, placing his hand on Markus' shoulder to get his attention.

"This time it's going to hurt." Rupert's voice was gentle, the teasing absent for the moment. Markus nodded once, outstretching his wings to their limit in preparation, even if it hurt to do so. He didn't want to stretch them out too suddenly and knock over the human who was so graciously looking over him, teasing or ulterior motives aside. Rupert was right, and Markus thought that somehow this second time hurt even worse. His ears rang and his breaths refused to roll over in his chest, and the world around him, hidden by the darkness behind his eyes, tightened and swayed.

Markus didn't remember what happened next. He awoke with the sounds of tweets and coos meshing with the ringing in his ears. He was slow to stir, the pain a dull, ever-persistent ache in his shoulder.

He shifted in his seat, opening his eyes to the blinding light that was trickling in from the open window. Much time hadn't passed, if any at all. He looked around, perhaps a bit too quickly as birds fluttered away in fear, spotting Rupert over by his disheveled kitchen. His back was turned on Markus and the rest of the birds, who seemed to be waiting patiently yet with anticipation.

Rupert turned, his eyes clearly visible without his hat on. They were filled with worry, though it would be easy to miss with the smirk on his face. "Oh good. Thought you died on me."

"No, I don't plan on dying yet." Markus found the words amusing, because he had fully intended to die before that pigeon had bothered him enough to change his mind.

Rupert walked over, the various birds fluttering out of his way, holding the cup of water out to Markus. He took it carefully and was rewarded with Rupert opening up his hand, where two white pills lay. "This'll help your pain."

Markus nodded, holding out his free hand for the painkillers. He sipped the water, leaning back and dropping the pills into his mouth before taking a bigger drink. His throat, which he hadn't realized was completely ablaze, cooled down to the room-temperature water, easing Markus just a little bit.

"Thank you. For--for all of this."

Rupert stood before him, placing his hands on his hips at his words. He watched Markus, his eyes searching for something that Markus couldn't decipher, before throwing his hands up in the air with a sigh.

"What am I going to do with you? What even happened?" Rupert crossed his arms as he awaited an answer. Markus wasn't sure he liked this interrogation, but Rupert didn't seem hostile. Just worried, maybe?

"I, I took a risk. It was stupid, but I needed to fly with the sunrise. I don't know who shot me, and I don't know if they followed me. I thought I was safe enough where I was, I just needed to fly." Markus turned his eyes down to his own hands, expecting to see them stained in blood but finding them strangely clean, as if Rupert had cleaned him up as he slept.

"Do you have a home?" Rupert's voice snapped Markus out of his focused, blood-searching state.

"Yes, but--" Markus paused as his stomach dropped and it became more laborious to breathe. "--I lost my bag when I was shot. If anyone found it, if they found it, they'll know exactly how to find me."

Rupert nodded a few times, reaching out and patting Markus' good shoulder. "Look, no need to panic. Rupert's here to help you."

His words washed over Markus and put him at ease. He found his breaths easier to gather, feeling grateful and indebted to this kind human. A pigeon--fat and most definitely the one he followed here--fluttered its wings and landed on Markus' lap. It cooed up at him, checking to make sure he was okay, before flying off for a tasty snack.

"Thank you." Markus was, of course, talking to Rupert but the pigeon responded with a small noise in return.

Rupert seemed to let out a held breath, looking from Markus to the hallway that led to the entrance. "Hold up, give me a moment."

Rupert's hand lingered on Markus' shoulder as he moved away, and Markus lamented the lack of comfort as he left. His eyes immediately drifted to the side, curious about the state of his bad shoulder.

The wound was covered, and the wrapping that did so spanned under his arm and across his chest, for stability. He tested the pain with a gentle roll of his shoulder, finding that between the ample wrapping and the painkillers, it really wasn't too horrible. Especially compared to the cleaning of the wound.

Markus examined his right wing, as well, stretching it out to the side before moving it around his arm. His feathers had been cleaned, much like his hands and chest had, and a simple dressing cushioned this wound, as well. Rupert really knew what he was doing, it was obvious he cared deeply for his birds and took care of injured wings often enough.

"Now," Rupert came back into the room, a piece of clothing in his hands, "this may not fit you. Fair warning. But it's a lot better than walking around like this."

Markus took the shirt from Rupert's hands, holding it up and nodding at him. "Yeah. You're right."

Rupert crossed his arms and tilted his head to the side, watching Markus closely as he rose to his feet. Markus was unsteady but the world around him wasn't squeezing him anymore; there was nothing keeping his lungs from inflating. The pain was dull and manageable, allowing him to pull his wings closer to his body to fully hide them.

Rupert seemed interested in the transformation, his eyes darting as Markus' wings stretched slowly around himself, the feathers crossing over his chest.

Markus always felt safer like this, with his wings squeezing his body in a hug, although there were other ways to hide them under his clothing. It really depended on the type of clothes he was wearing and what he planned on doing, but this was default, this was comfort.

"You're lucky I like baggy clothes." Rupert shifted on his feet before turning away, tending to the food and water bowls of his kin. Markus huffed through his nose, a smile playing on his face. He slipped the shirt over his head, pulling his bad arm through the short sleeve carefully. A hiss of pain forced itself out of his clenched teeth, but it was short lived.

The shirt didn't go all the way down to his waistband, and he could feel the tightness in the shoulders and under the arms. But the sleeves were short and the fabric was thin, so it wasn't wholly uncomfortable. Markus pulled at the front of the shirt, checking how it bunched against his feathers and shifting them accordingly to disguise them as muscle under the thin fabric.

"Wow, if I hadn't touched them myself I would think you never really had them." Rupert grinned at Markus, giving him a thumbs up in approval. Markus lifted his arm, leaning to check the back of his good shoulder the best he could.

"Yeah?" A smile tugged at his lips, no matter how hard Markus tried to keep his expression neutral.

"Surprised you can move around so much, too. Weren't you just shot?" Rupert picked his hat up off the ground, flipping it onto his head with the bird that had been sleeping inside of it captive. There was a tweet in dismay as the hat moved atop Rupert's head. It settled after a moment. "Twice??"

Markus took in a deep breath, instinctively glancing at his wounded shoulder. "My body is different than yours. I heal faster, or so I've heard."

Rupert nodded, a small and elongated 'oh' coming from barely parted lips as he moved closer to Markus, patting his good shoulder once more. "If that's the case, why don't you come with me?" Rupert tilted his head to the side, casting his eyes on Markus'. "If you feel good enough."

"A walk would do me good..." Markus trailed off, the end of his sentence catching the rising intonation of a question. Rupert nodded, walking forward and into the entrance hallway. Markus followed, his blood coursing through his veins with each movement.

Rupert led him outside and into the hall, grabbing a bag at the doorway as he walked by. "I've got some other injured birds to tend to." Rupert huffed, straining his voice as he cast the bag onto his shoulder. It seemed heavy, at least to Rupert.

"So you...you really do make a habit of this." Markus followed quick at Rupert's heel, his interest thinly veiled.

"Someone's gotta show compassion to the little guys." Rupert's eyes were invisible below his hat, the brim casting too dark of a shadow onto them. He led Markus to the end of the hall, passing the stairwell and approaching a door that led outside. He held the door open for Markus to walk through, a smirk plastered onto his lips. "And the big guys, I guess."

Markus stepped out into the blinding sunlight, reaching up and using his hand to shield his eyes. The fluttering of wings rang out ahead of him, much as it had in Rupert's room. There was another trove of birds up here on the roof, many of them uninjured. Many pigeons, with a smattering of robins, sparrows and the like; ones that he had already seen within the building.

However, there were some new additions. The black, oil-slick feathers of a murder of crows caught his eye. Some blackbirds, finicky and quick to fly off and return, eyed them from atop their perches. There were more, different colors and sounds amassed within the fluttering of feathers, but too many to count off individually. They seemed like a group of birds too big to fit comfortably into Rupert's room, and perhaps too anxious to be trapped within four walls. A line of cages caught Markus' eye, within them must've been the ones Rupert was here to take care of.

"Make yourself comfortable. I've got some work to do." Rupert brought the bag over to the cages, placing it down and immediately removing two bowls. He placed them on the ground and took out his bottle of water, filling one up before returning it into his bag. The other got filled to the brim with seeds and scooted an arms length away. The birds happily partook, a few of the smaller ones deciding to take a bath within the water bowl.

Markus followed Rupert halfway, watching the birds kindly sharing their food and bathwater. All different types lived in harmony up here, it seemed, all thanks to the kind human who doted on them.

There were other things up here, covered in remnants from the avian inhabitants. A tarp covered some stacked boxes among other things Markus couldn't make out. A few more tarps covered what looked to be an amalgamation of trash, with pieces of wood sticking out to make an overhang. Some occupied birdcages sat underneath, hidden from the harsh sun. A few crows acted like guards, nipping at any bird that dared get too close.

"These are adults, over here." Rupert was slowly taking each bird from the birdcages in the middle of the roof, turning them over in his hands to check their wings, their beaks, legs and eyes. He released them one at a time to get a drink and eat their fill before placing them back into their respective cages. "They're hurt and don't need to be flying. Some more than others."

Markus took some steps closer, the birds ignoring him to happily indulge in their seeds. Rupert reached his hand into a cage, removing a bird with a wrapped up wing from it. This one he treated more carefully than the others, holding it on his lap as he poured some water into the cap of the bottle for it to drink. Likewise, he took some of the seeds in his hand for it to eat. He petted the weak bird as he ate some seeds, and Markus' heart ached for the kindness he was being shown.

"They should all heal just fine." Rupert smiled up at Markus, who nodded in encouragement. "The one in the worst shape was you, so...yeah, they should all be fine."

Markus shook his head, a chuckle escaping as he let his eyes wander back to the cages in the shade. "What's wrong with the birds over there?"

"Oh, they're just a group of babies. I don't know what happened to the parents, but I snatched them up and brought them here when they never came to feed them." Rupert finished up with his group before refilling the almost-empty food and water bowls. He stood, grabbing his bag and bringing it over to the shaded cages.

The guard crows moved out of his way, taking this chance to get a drink of water and a bite to eat, as well. Rupert sat on his legs in front of one of the cages, digging through his backpack to retrieve the babies' personalized meal.

Markus was ushered closer and he listened, kneeling and watching Rupert combine some powdered meal with some water, stirring it within the packet it had come in. His utensil seemed to be a syringe, one he would no doubt use to feed the babies once their meal was ready to eat. Wanting to help, Markus reached for the packet, raising his eyebrows at Rupert and tilting his head to get a glimpse of his eyes under his hat.

"Sure, be my guest." Rupert handed it to Markus, careful to not drop it in the process. "Just make sure there's no big lumps."

"Okay." Markus mumbled under his breath, not wishing to bother the baby birds with a stranger's voice. He stirred the packet well, watching the consistency change from watery to thick as more of the powder blended with the water.

Rupert reached into the cage, and as he brought the first baby out a cacophony of hungry wailing broke out from the lot of them. Markus looked at the tiny thing fondly, collecting some of the food within the syringe and wiping the edge off on the inside of the packet.

He shifted closer to Rupert, glancing up at him for approval. "Yeah, go ahead. I'm sure you're a pro at this." Rupert held the bird gently but firmly in his hands as it cried out in hunger and opened its beak wide.

"No..." Markus laughed under his breath, shaking his head as he brought the small syringe to the even smaller bird. "I've never taken care of a baby before."

"It seems like you might make a good Momma Bird one day." Rupert was teasing him again, but Markus couldn't react. It was a delicate operation to not feed the baby too much, and he needed to focus.

When that one was full, they did another. The packet was empty before long, and all the babies were left with full bellies. Markus handed the foil packet and the syringe to Rupert, who wrapped it up within a plastic bag and placed it within his backpack to deal with later. Markus looked at Rupert for a long moment, not having anything to say but feeling something very intense up here on this roof, surrounded by his kin who were tweeting and cawing their love and their thanks.

Rupert tilted the brim of his hat up, catching Markus' eyes with his. He winked, a cheeky grin unfolding on his lips before he stood up. "This is just about it. I can't help everyone, but I do what I can." Markus watched as Rupert walked up to a fearful blackbird who leaned into his hand instead of flying away. "They help me out too, believe it or not. They protect me." Markus wasn't sure what that meant, really, but he was enthralled in watching the blackbird enjoying Rupert's petting. It pecked at his fingerless gloves as he moved his hand away, pulling at the fabric in an attempt to get pet a few more times before he left.

The birds moved first as voices filled the hall they had entered the roof from. There was a fluttering as they were disturbed, Markus barely able to make Rupert out through all the different colored wings. Rupert moved quickly to Markus, the birds dodging out of his way, grabbing him and pulling him up to his feet.

"Shit, nobody should be here. You need to hide." Rupert spoke through clenched teeth, shoving Markus against some ducting and broken-down boxes. He pulled a tarp off the ground and covered Markus with it, adjusting it to make sure he passed as more covered trash.

Rupert ducked under the other tarp--the one hiding the baby birds from the sunlight--as the door opened.

Markus stilled his breathing, wondering if hiding was an overreaction. His wings weren't fully hidden, no, but who would be looking so closely to notice? It was probably better being safe than sorry, though.

"What's up with all these birds, man?" A man spoke with authority to another, meaning there were two up here at the very least. Markus closed his eyes within the darkness of the tarp, stilling himself even more. He heard Rupert move before he spoke, making himself known before scaring the intruders.

"Hello Officers." Rupert spoke all too seriously; the playful tone he held with every word was wholly gone.

Another man spoke. "Didn't see you there, kid. What're you up to?" Rupert's footsteps moved farther away from Markus' hiding place.

"A lot of birds come up here. I take care of the ones that are hurt." His tone was very straight-to-the-point.

"You live here?" The second voice spoke again.

"No, of course not. This place is abandoned." Rupert was covering his bases, hopefully the cops wouldn't find the room he had made his home.

"Well, sorry to bother you, uh...?" The first cop spoke again.

"Name's Rupert." Markus could tell he was uncomfortable.

"Rupert. I'm Officer Chris Miller, this is Officer Mack Alexander. We're both with DPD." There was a shuffling as the officers presumably showed Rupert their badges. "Has anyone come up here? We're looking for a potentially dangerous individual."

"Dangerous?" Rupert deserved an award for the concern he had so easily placed in his voice. "No, I haven't seen anyone come up here. I've been around the roof and this floor all morning."

There was a tense pause. "We're just going to take a look around." Two sets of footsteps started their rounds, walking first and foremost to check the birdcage with the baby birds--the one Rupert had been standing by when they made their appearance.

They were too close for Markus' liking, but there wasn't much he could do. His mind starting to spin, running through what he would do if he was found and what might happen to Rupert if they knew he was involved.

"You're sure taking good care of all these. Why here, though?" The first cop--Officer Miller--spoke as he moved away from the birdcages, his footsteps coming closer to Markus' hiding spot.

"Oh, well. The apartment I live in doesn't allow pets. I was feeding the birds outside my patio for a while, until my landlord got onto me." The officer turned on his heel, allowing Markus a moment to untense himself. "I followed an injured crow, one day. He led me up here. Seems the word's got out that you can come to this roof for help."

The second cop--Officer Alexander--standing farther away from Markus than his partner, interjected before Rupert could continue. "You're trespassing. Private property."

"You got someone pressing charges?" Rupert's sass was back, but Markus thought that egging on the police wasn't a very good choice, given the circumstances.

"Mack, it's fine. He's not hurting anything." Officer Miller spoke gently to the other cop before raising his voice to a normal level to speak with Rupert. "No, no charges. We're just looking for our guy."

It seemed that the only birds left on the roof were the ones in the cages. There were no other noises, no flapping of wings nor agitated tweets. Humans with ill intent always brought an uneasy stillness to the air, Markus mused. The air here felt no different than the air had right before he got shot.

Footsteps from the two overlapped one another. They stayed for far too long, but it seemed they were giving up. "Must've gone somewhere else." Officer Miller mumbled under his breath as they neared the door that led back inside. "We'll have to take another look at the trail."

"See ya, officers. Good luck with finding your guy." Rupert barely concealed his relieved tone.

"Thanks, kid." The door squeaked open, but one of them paused. "Listen, you've got plenty of time. Go back to school, get into a Vet program. It'll do you real good." Officer Miller really sounded nice, for both a human and a cop. "And you'll do them real good."

Rupert chuckled in response. "Wish I could."

"Think about it." And with that, the door shut. Markus dared not to move until Rupert retrieved him, listening as their voices echoed from the other side of the door and disappeared as they took the stairs back down to the ground floor.

Rupert moved further away from Markus' hiding place, presumably to watch over the edge of the roof. Markus was fine with laying in his safe spot, and if he was being completely honest he wouldn't mind staying right here until the dead of night.

"Oh good, they left." Almost on cue, a fluttering of wings marked the return of the birds who sought refuge here. Rupert's hurried steps moved towards Markus, and the tarp was removed from him as soon as Rupert could reach it.

Markus, once again blinded by the light, winced and used his hand to shield his eyes. He focused on a small sparrow sitting on Rupert's shoulder, puffed up in happiness and tweeting atop its perch. He smiled, agreeing wholeheartedly with the tweets of fondness it bellowed so casually.

Rupert reached his hand down for Markus to take. He laughed at Rupert as he reached back, grasping his hand but knowing Rupert didn't have the strength to help him much. He stood, mostly from his own effort, before pulling on Rupert's hand and wrapping his arms around him. The sparrow flew away, not getting very far before landing and continuing his song.

"Thank you. I owe you everything. Really." Markus wasn't sure if it was the influence of the birds around him, or the simple cause-and-effect of being saved by him, but he really felt something for Rupert. He wouldn't call it love at first sight, but there was love there, or at least he thought.

Rupert placed his hands on Markus' back, patting his hidden wings very lightly. "I'm just glad I got to meet you." His voice was gentle and sincere; it made Markus smile.

Markus didn't loosen his grip on Rupert, and he was rewarded with Rupert pressing his forehead into his good shoulder, nuzzling the brim of his hat into it. He pressed too hard and his hat got pushed off the back of his head, revealing an irritated bird nestling within Rupert's hair. It flew off in a tizzy, leaving Rupert's hair even messier than it had been before.

"I'd like to feel you hug me with your wings." Rupert mumbled into Markus' shoulder. He nodded in response, petting Rupert's back and attempting to ignore the pounding he could feel from Rupert's chest.

"Give me a few days and I'll see what I can do."

Their mutual silence was interrupted by a crow's caw along with the flapping of its big wings. Rupert stepped away from Markus, who's hands lingered on him, quick to see what was wrong with his avian friend.

The crow landed before them, what remained of a crossbody bag in its beak. Markus moved before Rupert did, immediately recognizing it as his own. The crow allowed Markus to remove the fraying, bullet-damaged and blood-stained strap from its beak, staying as he unzipped it and frantically looked through it.

It was lighter as the water bottle was missing, and the shirt looked like it had been dragged through the dirt, but his wallet was safe and intact, as was his phone. The crow cawed in reply to Markus' unasked question: it had been too heavy to carry with the bottle of water, so it had disposed of it.

Markus let out a held breath of relief, looking back over his shoulder and up at Rupert. He came closer, placing his hand on Markus' shoulder, placing weight on him before kneeling beside him. "They didn't get a hold of it. That's--I'm so relieved." The words came out breathlessly, Markus in utter disbelief of his luck.

"Sounds like you're relatively scot-free." Rupert reached and ruffled the crow until he jumped away from him, giving him a growling caw of playful warning before flying to have a go at the food bowl.

Markus stood, wiping as much dirt as he could off of his shirt before pulling it over his head. He kept Rupert's shirt on, not only as a stolen memento but as a comfortable buffer between his shirt and his wings. The bag didn't work as a bag anymore, and it would be suspicious to leave a bloody personal item on the roof, so Markus cradled it in the crook of his arm. He hoped it would be inconspicuous enough.

Rupert stood and walked over to his hat, scooping it up and placing it back on his head. He slid on his heel, turning back around to face Markus. He looked Markus over as he turned before grinning and giving him two thumbs up. "You look like an above-average guy now. Can't even see the blood on the bag."

"Above-average?" Markus chuckled, shifting his bag in his arm. He didn't want to say goodbye, but he would heal faster at home.

Rupert paused, clenching his fists at his sides before walking forward to Markus. Markus assumed he was going to hug him goodbye, so he smiled and opened his arms to allow him to. Rupert placed his hand on Markus' upper arm, gripping his sleeve and tugging on him.

Markus, confused, did as he thought Rupert wanted and leaned lower, his wound protesting but dully. Rupert's hands moved to the front of Markus' shirt and tugged him closer. Markus' forehead hit the brim of Rupert's hat and it fell from his head for a second time as they shared an awkward but lovely kiss.

As this had been Markus' first kiss, he was immediately overwhelmed. Thoughts of inconsequence came and went, and Rupert had begun to move away when Markus finally realized he should be pressing into his lips in return. The kiss lingered until Rupert needed to move away to breathe, placing weight on Markus as he leaned his head into his chest. Markus petted his back, his breaths also uneven. Rupert shook his head into Markus, and he could feel the trembling in his hands as he pressed away from him.

"Promise you'll come back?" Rupert's voice was small as he quickly turned to pick up his hat. He didn't turn back around once it was placed on his head, and Markus found it endearing that he was so embarrassed over something he had instigated.

"Yeah. Tomorrow even. I'll see you then." Markus hesitated but moved towards the door. "I promise."

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