I can see Falcon getting nervous as I smile, and to be honest he's probably right to be nervous. I mean, he is in the home of his "enemy" even though he doesn't know it. And I might be plotting ways to make him embarrassed and find his soft spots while he's at my mercy.
I decide my plan can start now, and because he's so light weight and easy to pick up...
Aww, he squeaked. I picked him up and he squeaked, why is that so cute? Anyway, I ignore his adorable squeak as much as possible and carry him to my kitchen, then set him on a stool at the island. "What do you want for breakfast?" I ask him, hiding my smirk by opening the fridge door and looking in. When he doesn't answer my smirk falls and I look at him, only to see him frowning down at his wrists.
I didn't notice last night, but they're raw and red, even slightly bloody in spots like there was something chafing at them for quite awhile. Like he had been tied up with rope.
He notices me looking and awkwardly puts his hands on his lap, hidden from view under the island. It's cute how different he seems without his suit and mask on, I would even go so far as to say he looks completely harmless. I close the fridge and lean a shoulder on it, crossing my arms as I stare him down. "I asked what you wanted for breakfast."
He looks away from me. "I'm not hungry."
"If I had to guess it would be two days since you've eaten." I state, casually checking my nails for dirt as he snaps his head around to look at me. "After all, you've been gone for two days without any warning, then you show up with rope burns on your wrists and a bunch of bruises? I wonder what could have happened." I muse, meeting his eyes.
He's silent for a while, then slowly looks down at his lap and mumbles, "He said they knew where my hideout was. My home too."
Oh. I guess if I can understand why he's worried, I would be too if someone said they knew where my hideout was. My home is... eh. I don't have anything valuable to me here, I keep everything at my hideout where no one can find it. Also, now I know for sure that someone captured him. I really should find them and rip their throats out.
I smile suddenly, coming up with an idea. "Tell you what, if you eat breakfast I'll drive you to your home, and if you feel up to it by then you can fly to your hideout."
He sighs, sounding dejected. "I can't fly."
I quirk an eyebrow, but he doesn't notice, so I roll my eyes for my own benefit. "You're Falcon, of course you can fly." When he just continues to avoid looking at me I add, "...right?"
Another sigh. "My right wing got shot."
I walk over and sit on the stool next to his, then playfully spin him in a circle, causing him to look up at me with a glare that he obviously doesn't feel like giving me. He looks like he wants to go back to sleep. I prop my elbow on the island and my chin in my hand, watching as Falcon looks back to his lap.
"Where are your wings?" I ask curiously. "Are they even real? Cause there is no place on your back where it looks like wings go."
He shrugs. "I don't really know the science behind it, but they show up whenever I want them to. They just... appear." He makes a little gesture with his hands to emphasize "appear" and I struggle not to smile.
"Right..." I draw the word out. "So do you need to make them "appear" for them to heal?" He nods. "So why haven't you done it yet? Wouldn't you want to just get it over with?"
He glances up at me, looking mildly embarrassed. "I didn't want to freak you out."
I roll my eyes. "I promise I won't freak out. Will you get your wings now?"
He draws in a breath to say something, then winces. "Maybe I should let other things heal first." He says, his voice strained.
"Other things?" I demand. "What other things?"
I watch as he draws in a few shaky breaths, hugging himself around his stomach. "Oh, so many things..." he mutters, swaying a little on the stool. I quickly and gently grab his shoulder, making sure he doesn't fall.
"Okay, just... what can I do? I can take you back to bed, that would probably be good." I say, partly to myself. It seems odd that I don't really know what to do about injuries, what with being a villain and always fighting people.
I stand and slowly pick up Falcon, then coo in his ear when he draws in a sharp, pained breath. He leans his head on my shoulder and I suppress the urge to nuzzle his hair as I carry him back to my room. I set him down leaning against the headboard, then grab all the blankets and tuck them in around him, smirking to myself at the way it makes him look small.
He's silent for a moment, but speaks up before I get worried. "Can I have a shirt please." He asks in a rather small voice.
I nod and look in my closet, debating what shirt would fit him best. Maybe a hoodie would be best, all my shirts would be too big on him anyway. I debate which hoodie, then pull out a dark gray one that's extra soft. My smile drops when I step out of my closet and see Falcon standing up next to the bed, looking pained.
I hurry over to him and try to set him back on the bed, but he pushes my hands away. "I need a shower." He says, a shudder wracking his skinny frame. "I... I still smell like them." He sounds strained, his eyes showing desperation.
I let out a breath, nodding quickly. "Yeah, okay." I scoop him into my arms and carry him to the bathroom, ignoring his muffled protests. I set him down on his shaky legs, watching as he grasps the counter to hold himself up.
"Thank you. I guess. Um... clean clothes?" A blush spreads across his cheeks. "I'm sorry I keep asking for stuff." He mumbles, staring at the floor.
I chuckle and ruffle his hair. "I don't mind. I'll go get them while you get in the shower, okay?"
He nods and smiles at me gratefully. I smile back and leave him alone in the bathroom. I get a fresh pair of sweatpants out of my closet, then dig around in my drawers until I find a pair of boxers I've never worn. He left the bathroom door unlocked so I knock, then set the clothes on the counter next to the hoodie I got out for him.
"I'll be in the kitchen." I tell him, closing the door behind myself. Forty five minutes later when he still hasn't come to see me in the kitchen I start to get worried. I anxiously open my door, then breathe a soft sigh when I see him snuggled up under all the blankets in my bed. I guess it's a good thing he's so tired, he'll probably heal faster if he's not moving around a lot.
I close my bedroom door as silently as I can, not wanting to wake him up, then creep back to the kitchen. I make myself breakfast, then I check on Falcon. I go out to get groceries, then I check on Falcon. A possible client shows up at my door saying he wants me to take someone out for her, I decline, then go check on Falcon. By the time it's one in the afternoon I'm wondering why he hasn't woken up yet. He must be hungry, or thirsty, or have to go to the bathroom or something.
I peek into my room and see him still sleeping, so I slip in and close the door behind me. I was planning on waking him up, but the sight of him bundled up under the covers with only the top of his head peeking out is just too cute. I sit on the bed next to him, then slouch back against the headboard and stretch my legs out. I pull out my phone and start playing a game to pass the time.
A few minutes later Falcon rolls over, tangling himself in the blankets even more. He's obviously still asleep, but somehow seems to sense I'm there, as he reaches out and grabs my hoodie in a loose grip. I freeze, unsure what to do. Falcon however, practically sits up, then leans toward me and ends up laying right next to me with an arm thrown over my waist and his head on my stomach.
That's when I notice his... cat ears? Fluffy brown ears that blend into his fluffy brown hair. They can't be real though, right? I thought he couldn't change into anything other than a bird. I slowly reach down and touch his ears, noting how they flick away from my touch like real cat's ears do.
I concede that his ears are real, and leave them alone so I can pet his hair and run my fingers through it. My theory about them being cat ears is pretty much confirmed when he starts purring softly and shifts a little, nuzzling my shirt before going still again.
An amused grin spreads across my face as I realize this could be why he's been sleeping so long. Maybe he's just a lazy kitten. I start petting his hair again, murmuring to him to wake up.