Blake grinned, wrapping his wing around Frankie. He puffed out his chest a little to prove he was ready to be challenged. He had plans to win this game. One dare at a time. Come on! Challenge me already! His fingers drummed impatiently on his leg.
(Hey y'all)
(HI! You're back!)
(Everybody is coming back!)
Frankie looked around. "Who's turn is it?"
“Ask me something!” Blake pouted, flicking his wings. “I’ve been waiting like… forever.” He groaned dramatically, shifting and lying down the floor, placing his head in Frankie’s lap and letting his large wings stretch out. A feather landed on his forehead, but he chose to ignore it, staring into Frankie’s emerald green eyes instead. “Please?” He showed off his best puppy dog eyes, determined to get his way.
Peter smiled in amusement.
Blake let out an exasperated whine and looked over at Peter, silently pleading for support.
He shrugged loosely, "I got nothing, buddy."
Ellis yelped from another room.
(Actually, it was Peter's turn to ask somebody..)
Sky jumped up and followed the noise. "Ellis? You ok?"
It looked like the little kid thought he could cut an unpeeled orange with a steak knife, and.. his poor fingers. Instead of screaming or crying, his little face was staunched chalk white and his open mouth shaking. He was more afraid of Skylar approaching than his own bleeding.
"Oh my god! Ellis! Are you okay?? Oh my god, we are going to get you to the hospital, do want me to get Peter?" She said, rushing over.
"I-I-I'mm– I'm sorry," he exhaled in a sharp whimper. His big brother rounded the corner quickly, eyes widening.
"Woah-! Ellis!" Peter exhaled sharply in shock.
"Ellis, you're fine, don't be sorry. Come on, we gotta get you fixed up." Skylar said.
"What'd he do?" Peter asked quickly, wings ruffled. Ellis began to cry.
“Ellis?” Blake perked up, sitting up straight. “Is he okay?”
"I think he cut himself while cutting an orange? Ellis, Do you want me to carry you?" she asked.
He laid down on his bed, staring at his new hand. It was metal and had a steampunk look about it that he loved, but he felt a bit of pain, of loss, for his old hand. Ace had at least been able to control that hand well.
“I can carry him.” Blake offered, stretching out his wings. “I haven’t seen the little guy in awhile. I hope he hasn’t forgotten me.” He smiled sadly. The memory of being shot down was burned into his brain along with the searing pain of bullet holes. He reminded himself he was fine. His wounds had healed and Frankie’s calm green eyes had soothed him while he was in pain. Things would be better now. They have to be.
"Ok." Skylar agreed.
Ellis shut his eyes tightly, but didn't oppose their suggestions.
"Thanks, Blake," Peter exhaled worriedly.
“Of course.” He stood up, abandoning the game he’d been excited for moments ago.
Peter pet his brother's head to comfort him.
Blake made his way over to Ellis, sitting down on the floor in front of the boy and trying to make himself look smaller. “Hey, tough guy.” He nudged Ellis gently with his wing.
Skylar sighed and watched.
Ellis looked at Blake through his teary eyes, "My fingers hurt.." the kid whimpered pitifully. Peter scooped up Sky's hand.
“Well you must be very brave. I’d be screaming my head off!” Blake smiled warmly. “Hey, can one of you run and grab him a bandage? Or at least some gauze and med tape? Depending on how deep the cut is, I might need rubbing alcohol as well.” He turned to look at Peter an Sky for a moment, giving them instructions. “Tell you what Ellis, if you can stay strong for me while I patch you up then we can do anythzing you want okay?”
Frankie watched sadly and felt her heart melt for the poor child. He was so young, so safe, so innocent and yet somehow the universe had managed to hurt him.
Ellis nodded quickly, licking off the snot that was drooling down his lip. "O-okay," he stammered in his little, high-pitched whimper. He looked up to his brother, who scampered off to find bandaging somewhere. Ellis quietly poured with whimpering apologies.
“Don’t apologize! It’s not your fault!” Blake tried to soothe him. “It’s all gonna be okay. Trust me on this.” He wrapped his wing around Ellis reassuringly, making a goofy face at the small boy.
Peter returned quickly with gauze, worry plastered all over his face. Ellis's little crow wings were kept tightly folded against his back, sucking up snot again.
