Chapter Text
IMPOSSIBLE DEEDS AND OTHER STUPID THINGS YOU’LL DO FOR LOVE
Fight 1: Strange Birds Like Us
Altair was scared.
The world was going to end. Everyone knew it; it was all over the news and in the burning poisonous rain and all he could think was that it wasn’t fair. A kid of six shouldn’t be worried about things like that. It was so terrible.
But the TV said another thing: Abstergo knows how to fix it and everything would be ok, better than before, they said.
It took days of waiting and hearing his mother coming and going at the weirdest hour always mad ’cause Mama’s working on the big world-saving thing for Abstergo, Mama’s too busy to play.
Mama’s sorry Eaglet, she said and she holed herself up in her room yelling at the phone and typing away on her laptop.
It’s not fair!—
“—Eagle!”
Someone was calling him, a young shrill voice tainted with worry and probably on the verge of tears. He should have known that voice and the face of its owner but the only thing his faulty mind suggested was the concept of small, soft and cute. No, small-and-cute, too early for this.
“Eagle! You stop playing dead right now! It’s getting ridiculous!”
Oh he knew that other one. Grumpy, hissy, kind of like an owl but worried too… why was everyone worried? Taking a well-deserved nap was suddenly illegal now?
“Eagle? P-please, Uncle Eagle, wake up!”
Maybe not illegal but apparently small-and-cute wanted him up and about and damn quickly too. Calm down, small-and-cute, someone needs his beauty sleep here.
Aww, don’t cry…
Colorful light pierced through the comforting darkness and he let out a pained little sound; that bit of light had been enough to make him feel as if a bomb had exploded in his head. Not a good sign, the almost rational part of his mind informed him, you should wake up.
And wake up he did when something kicked him in the back making him nearly fall from… well, whatever he was laying on.
“About time!” chirped a awfully excited third voice. “We thought you were done for!” That one was new.
The first thing Eagle saw when he finally decided to give up on his nap was a pair of big iridescent wasp-like eyes and a mass of ridiculously fluffy ginger hair tickling his face.
Ok. He had somewhat died and ended up in a very weird hell in which wasp-things with wigs kicked you for fun. Perfect.
“Eagle!” squealed small-and-cute in pure joy (Owlet, informed the rational voice, kid’s name’s Owlet), “I was so scared! You jumped down that high cliff and I was so scared! Even Big Brother Owl was scared! He said soooo many bad words!”
Of course. Jumping down a cliff. That sounded like an Eagle-thing, jumping down a damned cliff to escape some stupid Vampire. The brainless bastards were probably still there searching for him. He grinned wildly but that simple move set of a series of bolt-like stabs coursing through his body.
“Stop flopping around, you idiot!” ordered Owl all but gently. “You did quite a mess back at the canyon.” Now his tone held an undertone of fond exasperation. “Killed a bunch of white masks, jumped down a cliff right into a damn river! You stupid bird-brained novice! You should have mentioned you couldn’t swim before I had to fish you out of damned-to-hell rapids!”
Eagle smiled sheepishly “We’re in the desert so…”. The golden eyed boy felt himself blush to the ears when he realized he was laying in Owl’s lap (the handsome guy wasn’t wearing a t-shirt) and both Owlet and the wasp guy were staring at them with weird smiles on their stupid faces.
“I’m so happy to meet you!” grinned wasp-guy (who had taken off his bug glasses) “I mean, I kind of met you when your friend fished you out of the rapids but you were like half dead and everyone was too busy freaking out… Anyway, I’m Ander but people around here call me Boombird!”
Boombird just grabbed Eagle’s hand and shook it enthusiastically.
“You’re a legend! A hero!” babbled on the chirpy redhead, never letting go Eagle’s hand “And you are so tiny! I always imagined you big and tall but you’re tiny! I can totally carry you around like a puppy and holy goats it’s the cutest thing ever!”
The guy was all quick moves and big unblinking eyes and that reminded Eagle of an overexcited burrowing owl, if burrowing owls were tall and lanky like scarecrows of course.
Eagle carefully studied the new guy, trying to get a glimpse of his true colors or at least have a little understanding of this weird fellow.
Everything about his aspect screamed harmlessness, from his round baby face to his brightly colored clothes (yellow rain jacket, cropped t-shirt and oversized camo pants) but Eagle’s trained eyes noticed the tiny details that revealed Boombird’s real nature: thin burn marks where a shot had barely missed something important – the same that decorated his body – a thin but strong frame forged by the desert, and the twin laser guns well visible at his bony hips.
Boombird, despite his weird look, was a fighter down to the bones and Eagle respected him for that and secretly started to like him. And apparently his inner Bird Spirit liked him too, judging from the happy screech in the back of Eagle’s mind. Good. Very good.
Eagle stretched out like a cat in Owl’s lap trying to get comfortable on the padded but still bumpy floor of the van. “So, where are we headed to?” he asked casually picking at the loose seams of his best friend’s torn up jeans. The dark fabric was still slightly damp and a bit uncomfortable against his still tender back – apparently Leaps of Faith and water won’t mix well – but he made do.
Owl glared down at him but let him stay, a rare treat that Eagle was determined to enjoy to the very last sweet bit. Jumping off a cliff had its little advantages at least, like an unusually affectionate best friend to cuddle with. Not bad.
“Screech is driving us to the Nest,” beamed Boombird “in his van. Big thing since no one can ride the Dancer beside us but he made an exception for you and your friends! He’s sooo happy you’re here!”
The bubbly redhead shot up like a spring toy and climbed over to the front seat giggling like a kid who got a big bag of candies.
Owlet grinned back. “I like him,” declared the little kid crawling into a padded corner to play with his rickety old radio. “He’s weird, smiley and I really like his colors. And I want to meet this Screech guy, he’s going to be fun.”
Owl smiled back, his usual tiny, almost not there thing of a smile, and ran a hand through Eagle’s slightly wet hair affectionately “So what had the mighty Eagle decided?” he said with his special brand of sarcasm. “Shall we follow our new friends or go on a merry trip through miles of sun-baked desert?”
Of course it was a rhetorical question but Eagle really loved how Owl let him think he was the brains of their mismatched little family, even if everyone knew that behind all of their coolest plans was Owl’s sharp-as-hell mind. Smarter than a desert fox, his best friend and Eagle fell for the crafty bastard every damn time.
It was like that between them: falling and soaring for and with each other. They mixed well like fire and gasoline, Eagle recklessly untamable and Owl quietly dangerous, and together they were a recipe for disaster. But they can’t stay away from each other.
Eagle grinned and hugged Owl around the middle. “Mighty Eagle wanna nap,” he said burying his face in his best friend’s warm skin.
Owl kept on running his hands through the golden eyed boy’s hair and Eagle fell asleep in a matter of seconds.
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Boombird plopped down on the Dancer’s front seat and started humming softly as he always did when he wanted to get Screech’s attention – his second favorite technique besides surprise kisses.
“What?” sighed the other boy without taking his eyes off the sandy road. “I know you want to tell me something, so spit it out.”
Boombird let out a little laugh; oh, how he loved Screech when he was all strong-and-silent like that. It was like being with an action movies hero!
“I met Eagle and his gang,” he whispered in Screech’s ear as if telling him a great secret. Of course the driver already knew, he was there too, but that didn’t matter.
“He’s awesome and so tiny! You really can’t believe how tiny he is!” Probably forgetting he was supposed to be quiet, the ginger haired boy raised his voice in shrill excitement “I bet I can carry him around like a puppy! He’s so tiny and cute but not as cute as you!”
Screech smiled a bit and gently pushed his overexcitable partner back on his own seat.
“I’m glad they’re all ok,” he said calmly, a gentle blush coloring his cheeks. “They are all very important to our cause, most of all the little fledgling.”
“Oui!” confirmed the bubbly ginger. “The smallest voice will call for the Revolution,” he chanted as if repeating an old cradle rhyme, “and guide us to the bulletproof future.”
“You know it’s just a legend, ‘Bird.” Screech reached out for his friend’s hand “something you tell kids to give them some hope”
“Pas vrai! It’s real!” insisted Boombird, curling up in his seat, offended. “The Feathery Lady told me! In the desert!”
Screech shot him a sad glance and squeezed his hand, dark green eyes full of love and worry: he always made that face when Boombird talked about the Feathery Lady and, for his dear life, he couldn’t understand why. She told him good news, she made him special in his own way but Screech couldn’t get it; he saw only the pain this specialness caused him.
“Please don’t remind me” growled the dark haired boy, the gentle hand squeeze turning into a fiercely protective almost painful grip “I nearly lost you, ‘Bird, even before really getting to know you… I won’t let this happen again!”
Boombird couldn’t remember much before the days – or maybe weeks - spent wandering the wrecked wasteland that had been his home but one thing was branded with fire in his mind: pain, horrible pain and then the Feathery Lady appeared and put a song – or a prophecy – in his head. He felt safe with her, protected by her soft wings and then he woke up to the most intense pair of silvery green eyes staring down at him. Screech’s beautiful, beautiful eyes.
“But you didn’t,” smiled the little redhead clinging to his partner the best he could without impeding his drive “Tu m’a sauvè, Screech, and now nothing can take us apart! Nothing and no one and if they try they’ll pay for that!”
Screech smiled back. “You crazy little bird,” he whispered fondly, “you’re the best I can wish for.”
Boombird placed a sweet little kiss on his partner’s cheek. “Toi aussi” he said dreamily nestled against Screech’s warm chest.
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Owl felt very warm and comfortable, safe enough to let his guard down but not tired enough to fall asleep. Quite strange since he had fished a stupid Novice out of that damn waterfall not long ago, but he decided it didn’t matter. You just don’t question good luck.
“Where are we?” asked little Owlet putting away his radio thing, the kid sounded awfully bored “It’s taking forever!”
Owl didn’t know what to answer -he wasn’t paid to keep track of time, he wasn’t paid at all in fact- and Eagle was still sleeping like a baby, bless him.
“Don’t know, kid, ‘m not the driver” he sighed in fond annoyance and Owlet went back to his radio.
“Gonna call Uncle Heartbreaker” he declared after a while “He’s to be soooo worried for us, I bet.”
After a bit of fiddling with buttons and handlers a loud, slightly distorted voice filled the small space.
“Owlet!” almost screamed the voice, “what happened? You guys should have been back hours ago!”
The kid laughed sheepishly trying to look as cute as possible even if Heartbreaker couldn’t see him via radio. “I know, but Uncle Eagle fell in the river and then some Vampire blew up our car! Everyone freaked out so bad and Big Brother just jumped in to save Eagle! It’s been awesome but sooo scary!” he explained in his usual messed up way. The more excited he got the more confused his stories were, poor little guy.
“And why did that testa vuota jump into the river without knowing how to swim?” asked Heartbreaker sounding as done with everything as Owl felt.
“Vampires! Tons of them everywhere! There was someone asking help on my radio, they said they were stuck near the river and we went there to help them ’cause Uncle Eagle’s a hero, you know! But it was a trap! To catch me!”
Owl felt his guts ache in a mix of worry and guilt: he should have been more careful, he should have made the reckless kid stay at the hideout! Twelve years olds should be in school, not out there playing war!
He still remembered what his mother used to tell him, you should protect your little brother she said when his parents brought home the tiny newborn from the hospital. The little thing was loud and ugly but made something magic happen in his heart: an unbreakable bond that lasted through the end of the world and into this new fucked up one.
Eagle shivered and whined something about evil puddles. It was almost night and the desert was getting awfully cold. Not the weather for sleeping in nothing but (deliciously) shredded tight jeans for sure. The idiot looked so cute and young, deceptively harmless like any bird of prey. All fluff and cuddly until he’d claw your eyes out.
There were some old colorful blankets piled up in a corner and Owl grabbed the fluffiest one for his friend and another thinner one for himself. That’s better.
Owlet kept on with his confused explanations and Heartbreaker, on the other side of the line, listened attentively – something that only happens when things were about to get ugly – and, when the kid excitedly babbled about their meeting with Boombird and Screech, he barked out an half-crazed half-relieved laugh.
“Do you know them, Uncle?” the kid asked curiously. He was bored and only wanted cool stories to entertain himself with, as per usual.
“‘Course I do,” confirmed Heartbreaker. “Shiniest bastards you can have by your side, I swear!”
“You said a bad word!” giggled Owlet, finding the situation very amusing. “Everyone’s saying bad words! That’s so funny!”
“Where are you headed to?” asked Heartbreaker now way calmer “Some place with moonshine and music, knowing them…”
The kid seemed thrilled at the thought of his very first victory party then remembered his brother’s opinion on the matter (strict no-fun-no-guns policy, big mean bully) and his enthusiasm was instantly killed. “Dunno…” he pouted crossing his stick thin arms in protest “Some place called the Nest, or so Bird said… boring shitty place, I bet” he added crossly.
There was some scratching of a pen on paper as Heartbreaker scribbled down the coordinates then some curses as the signal got lost.
Owlet got up and went over to the front seats, “Uncle’s Heartbreaker’s coming for the victory party!” he announced as loudly as he could.
Oh perfect, that was going to be a damn long night.