The Boy With the Birds

"Hey! What the hell are you doing, man?"

I groan as I slowly wake up. My head is pounding and I feel sick to my stomach. I open my eyes, but they're blurry, and my vision drifts, unable to focus on the black silhouettes in front of me. I hear the scuffing of boots on the concrete, and the clatter of pebbles kicked in the process.

"It's none of your damn business, pretty boy. She owed me."

I hear an angry scoff. "You don't rape someone who 'owes' you, you sick fucker. Hold still, I'll make it quick."

My head is pounding, and I can hear my pulse thudding in my ears, slowly pulling me back to reality. As I gain consciousness, I become aware of how alarmingly sore my body is. My hips sting, my forearms are sore and it feels like my thighs have been scratched raw.

What the hell?...

More angry cursing follows...

"What the hell!? You're one of those fuckin' freaks!" A strangely familiar voice shouts "Bio-terrorist!"

"We're not all monsters." A cold voice responds, "But for you, I'll make an exception. Say hi to Lucifer for me."

I jump in my half-conscious state to the sound of crackling embers. A sharp sound that follows it sounds like a gust of wind, and I feel it... Only, surprisingly, it's not the cold wind of autumn I've become accustomed to in the last few weeks. Instead, it's warm... Alarmingly warm.

A dark chuckle follows, and I attempt to open my eyes again, but things are still blurry. I blink rapidly to gain my vision and stop as soon as I see a dark figure moving towards me, and I think death is finally coming for me, but as it got closer, the demonic silhouette faded into a man. And that man crouched by my side, and held out his hand.

"Hey, are you okay?" He asks.

My throat feels dry, and I don't think I can respond, so I nod a little bit, and that tiny movement sends my mind wild again with a pounding headache. I groan, and attempt to push myself up. As soon as I'm in a half sitting position, my stomach churns once more and I double over in the opposite direction to spew the last bits of whatever inhabited my stomach onto the ground. I groan, wiping my lips, becoming more and more aware of my precarious situation.

My eyes wander down to discover that my body is bare, and where my clothes once hung loosely on my frail body, were the red marks of where the fabric had been ripped away by greedy hands.

"Shit..." I mutter, looking around myself, and there's not much to be salvaged.

"Uh... Er... Here, this looks intact."

He hands me the limp wad of grey acid wash fabric that is my dress. I take it gratefully, and stretch it over my head quickly, pulling it over my boney frame, silently grateful that he was kind enough to look away, even though he probably already got an eyeful.

I look at him through clear eyes now, and I can tell immediately that he's out of place on the grimy streets of The Projects. He's clean, and pretty well-kempt, except for his rebellious style clothing.

I grab my backpack from beside the bed and dig around in it, hoping that my spare pair of leggings are still in there. When I find them, I quickly pull them on and grab my boots, lacing those up tightly with shaky fingers.

"I'm done." I say when I've collected what I can from my outfit. He peeks back at me before fully turning to face me.

He's tall, skinny, with some sort of turquoise tribal tattoos on his left forearm. He has short brown hair, tucked under a slouchy red beanie. He wears a blue denim vest over a black hoodie covered in assorted patches and pins. From where I sit, a crumbled mess on the mattress, I can see the unique design of two birds in flight on the back of his jacket. One red, and one blue, like a weird take on Yin and Yang. I don't ask about it, and he doesn't draw attention to it.

"I'm Delsin, by the way." He introduces himself after I've pulled on my boots and pulled myself together considerably. He extends his hand towards me, and I grab it, surprised that his firm grip is much warmer than my frail cold one.

I keep my eyes down, because his worried brown ones keep following my every move, trying to figure out what to do with me now that I have seemingly become his problem.

"Hi, Delsin." I greet him with weak confidence. "I'm September, but just call me Seph."

"Seph?" He echoes with a laugh, cocking his head, making me feel mildly annoyed. "Yes." I confirm in a deadened voice.

"That's cool." He grins, then frowns. "I'm sorry about ah..." he gestures to my right, and my eyes follow to see a man lying face down on the ground. I recognize the heavy leather bomber jacket immediately and realize it's Ronnie.

"Ronnie! Oh God!"

"I wouldn't give that asshole too much sympathy," Delsin calls out to me as I rush to Ron's side. I hesitate, not looking at him. "He was doing obscene things when I showed up... And you obviously were in no position to make a decision."

"My God... What did you do to him?" I whisper in horror, realizing how badly burned Ronnie's hands were. Burning him to death feels like a major overkill. "I thought he was my friend..."

"He had it coming!" Delsin defends himself childishly, earning a glare from me. "I just worked with what I had available."

"You burned him to death." I accused. "Why?"

He waves his hand and huffs a deep breath, "Okay, I'm going to be upfront with you. Two things you need to know about me before we get to know each other any further. One, I am a conduit, or a Bio-terrorist, if you feel like being a completely ignorant asshole. And second, this is my power."

He waves his hand away from himself, and a mini tornado of red and orange embers swirl up in the palm of his hand, before he clutches his fist, and they fade. "Smoke." He says for clarification, his lips twisting up in a charming smirk.

I stare at him like he's a monster, and inside, my blood is running cold. But instead of rising and running, I stay crouched by my dead friend. "Okay." Is all I can muster in response, my tone bleak.

"Okay? That's it? No screaming? No running away?" He looks surprised, gesturing towards the many exit points around the loading dock.

I shake my head. "Why? You'd just catch and kill me, anyway..." I breathe, "I've seen what your kind can do."

He snorts, and paces, unraveling a bulky chain from his wrist in the process, making me shiver and recoil in fear. He doesn't look angry, just kind of annoyed.

"You've seen what the news stations have lied about us doing. Everything I've done, and other conduits have done, was to save people. All those news reporters have done was twist everything to make people afraid of us!"

"Prove it to me."

"Prove what?" His voice is sarcastic, but he's paying attention.

"Prove to me you're not a bad guy."

He sighs, throwing his head back in exaggeration, before locking the chain back around his wrist and fishing through his back pocket. I wait cautiously, until he produces his wallet, flipping it open, looking through the contents.

"I've got 25$. You look like you're starving, let me buy you something to eat. Do you like pizza?"

I stare at him, surprised and confused. "I asked for you to prove you're not bad, not take me on a date."

"It's not a date, it's me proving I'm a nice person, not conduit, not Bio-terrorist. Person. Are you hungry or not?"

He's stopped pacing to put his undivided attention on me, "And if it makes you feel more comfortable, I was planning on getting food after anyways, so this is more so me asking you to tag along. I'll give you somewhere to stay tonight and everything."

"Sounds like a date..." I mutter, before standing up and kicking the smoking remains of Ronnie hard in the ribs. "But sure, I could eat."

He grins, showing shiny white teeth in a pleased smile. "Cool. There's a good place just downtown. We could walk, or I could get you there much quicker."

"By car?..." I wonder, looking at him hesitantly as we make our way out of the alleyway.

"By smoke, of course."

"Eh... I like walking." I say, stuffing my hands in my pockets, waltzing ahead with my torn clothes hanging awkwardly on my concerningly skinny frame.

He shrugs, not offended. We begin making our way out of the maze of warehouses back to the road with a weird silence falling between us up until I reached for a cigarette, to find my lighter was gone.

"Hey, Smokey, can you light one up?"

He gets a smug grin, and a small yellow flame flickers from his extended palm. I held my cigarette out towards him, watching the fire swallow it up.

"Thanks." I murmur, putting it to my lips and inhaling.

"You know you should really quit smoking." He says, breaking my concentration, causing me to cast a confused, defensive look his way.

"Why?"

"Because smoke is bad for you." He replies before flashing another of what I decide is his signature smile. He walks ahead of me by a few feet, leading the way out of the maze of warehouses into a district that better represents the cozy marketplace that Seattle likes to use as a poster child to cover up all the dark shit happening in the background.

There's neon signs all around, advertising various bars, cafes, and salons. I peek briefly in their windows, catching glimpses of people living out their lives, oblivious to my shadow-like presence. When I look up I notice how the other people walking the sidewalks are switching lanes and tossing disgusted looks our way.

"Okay... I know I look like a dying sack of shit, but seriously, is it that bad?" I mutter, catching Delsin's attention.

"Oh yeah... It's not just you. They're not exactly ecstatic about my arrival here, either." He replies with a shrug.

I take in a deep breath of my cigarette, flicking the ash thoughtfully. "Wait, you're not from here? Where the hell are you from?"

"Are you always so bold?" He asks, smirking. "No, I'm from Salmon Bay. It's a hop, skip, and a jump that'a way." He points south with enthusiasm. "I've never found myself in Seattle before despite living so close... Have some business to take care of while I'm here."

"Business?" I echo, looking at him with narrowed, cautious eyes. "You don't look like the business type, which makes me think you're more bad-news than you're letting on."

"Something tells me that buying you dinner and giving you somewhere to stay for the night won't be enough to prove I'm not walking scum." He laughs, burrowing his hands in the pockets of his bird jacket.

"Why? Is there a reason I should be doubtful?" I stop walking and stomp out my cigarette on the sidewalk, looking up at him, searching his dark eyes for a sign that I needed to leave before things got worse.

"No, I'm trying to be a hero... Of sorts." He scratches the back of his neck, looking down at the ground while he thinks. "Look, I'm not the conventional 'super hero in spandex' guy you might be expecting to fill out that title, but there is a good reason why I'm here."

"And that is?"

He narrows his eyes at me, blinking away the occasional raindrop that falls into his eyes from the parting storm above us. He locks his jaw while he thinks of a response, but that response is interrupted by someone jogging towards us calling his name. We both turn to see who it is.

Delsin groans immediately as a man who looks like he's in his early thirties approaches us, out of breath and pissed off.

"Delsin!" he shouts again as he gets closer. "Where have you been? Why haven't you answered my calls?"

"Oops..." Delsin replies, fishing his phone out of his pocket to check for the evidence. "I don't know why I wasn't getting your messages..." His voice is sarcastic and full of fake confusion and remorse. "Oh! I know why. I had you muted."

The man grits his teeth and scowls at him, looking like he's having an inner battle between slugging Delsin and telling him off.

"Seph, this is my brother, Reggie Rowe... Sorry, Sheriff Reggie Rowe." Delsin gestures broadly towards the soaking, seething man glaring daggers at him.

"I'm glad this is so amusing to you," he stresses through clenched teeth. "because while you were out here hooking up with every flunky in town, I caught us a real lead and it slipped through our fingers because you were nowhere to be found!"

This seems to catch Delsin's attention because he frowns. "Aw shit man, I'm sorry. What was it?"

"Better make sure you unmute me first," Reggie replies through clenched teeth. "There are reports of a bio-terrorist murderer going on a killing spree in the Queen Anne district. But because I couldn't get ahold of you, they got away."

"Got away? Where'd they go?"

"Into hiding! The trail went cold."

Reggie looks frustrated and Delsin looks like a little kid cowering away from his brothers angered gaze. Reggie sighs and continues, "This bio-"

"Please don't say that word." Delsin groans, causing Reggie to roll his eyes. This seems to me like a conversation they have on a regular basis.

"Right, sorry," Reggie replies dryly, narrowing his eyes at his brother. "This conduit seems to have some sort of neon/laser abilities as they left their crime scenes looking as flashy and bright as the entrance to a strip club."

Delsin raises his eyebrows and a sly smile sneaks across his face.

"I don't know if that smile is because I mentioned a strip club or because I mentioned powers," Reggie mutters, shaking his head regretfully. "Anyway, we need to follow it up... But you look busy."

Reggie leans over to peek around Delsin at me, the skinny limp noodle of a person standing a few feet away, gaunt face hidden in the shadows of my wet hood. My gaze goes back and forth between them while I feel increasingly uncomfortable with them both looking at me like I'm a problem that needs addressing.

"Actually Reg, I'm taking her out to dinner. You should come with us, and right after we can pursue this lead of yours." Delsin flashes him a bright smile that causes Reggie to glare at him a bit before weakening. "Fine."