This has been lying around on my computer for ages now. It was started the beginning of 2012. I can't guarantee this will be my last Storm Hawks fanfiction, but chances are, it probably is. This story was birthed from personal trauma. It feels exquisite to finally release it unto the world, where it can no longer haunt me. Enjoy.

I own nothing.

-o-

It was interesting, the things one would notice at the strangest of times. The rays of sunlight that shined into her room seemed to be teeming with life, life that was actually dust that had not yet settled back upon the surface of the mattress, due to the previous activities that had occurred upon it. But Stork wasn't thinking about these things; he couldn't, not yet, and instead stared like a petrified zombie at the particles floating in the air. The sound of Piper gathering her clothes did nothing to shake him out of his stupor, but he was at least half conscious, of certain changes in her physiology. The heavy breathing, the sobs being chained to the innards of her chest, how her movements were shaky and uncoordinated, nothing like how she normally was, which was a calm and decisive Piper, composure nothing but a brick wall with tangerine orange eyes and a brilliant alabaster smile. He had a feeling she knew how he felt, how all of this had affected him as well as her, had a feeling that it was useless right now, to say anything.

So she didn't.

And neither did he.

Eventually, she just sat on the floor of her room, joining Stork in a numb daze, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw her expression, and it made his blunted heart seize in discomfort. Her face was so hopeless, so devoid of happiness, and weighed down by a sadness that he shared, but felt absolutely appalled that her own soul felt it necessary to participate in such a brutal sorrow. And so they sat in pregnant silence, waiting for the other to speak and break it, shatter it to pieces, but it was evident that they both were afraid of that happening, for the last time the barriers between them had fallen, they had swallowed up each other in fervent longing, and eventually, there was nothing left but rupture, and devastation.

His ceaseless morbidity never failed to amaze him, as he noted, with some amount of disgrace heavy in his stomach, that she looked even prettier when it looked as though she were about to burst into tears.

For the first time in God knew how long, he looked at her. And she looked at him. He noticed how small she seemed, and remembered how small and delicate she was beneath him as he ground himself gently but ardently against her, and was suddenly ashamed. It was like that precious innocence that had existed like a glowing orb at the pit of her glorious center was now deceased, a star once brightly shining that had imploded, and he was to blame. Stork searched over his thoughts, slowly, cautiously, for he picked up every rock within his mind knowing that he would eventually find the answers that would despairingly cripple him even further. He couldn't help it. She was willing, he thought, and he certainly was, at the time. He had admired her for so long, known her since she was practically a child compared to himself, watched her grow up into a magnificence that was perhaps a size too big for her then. A woman, she was, he supposed. A woman who had leaned in to kiss him, a kiss he returned even though his body in all its frightful impulse cried 'no, no, no!'. A woman who had led him carefully into her room, gently by hand, which he held with a trembling grasp. A woman who overcame him, overpowered him, with her burning desire. It was all too much to handle for him, for the both of them, he expected. And so when he let himself go as well, they both fell into a place where they were stranded, naked, and hungry for answers that neither of them could provide for the other.

Tentatively, he recalled the experience that currently left them reeling. He remembered for the first time in ages feeling warm, and it was all thanks to the feeling of her skin against him. He felt free of his fears for once, free from his torturous countenance that wreaked havoc on his sanity. As she opened herself up for him, he watched as she transformed from a young girl into a creature he could hardly understand, but yearned to, so badly. And so he went along with the forceful feeling he felt at the pit of his gut, a contradicting thing that writhed with conflict. He did want to, he did, but at the same time he didn't. He didn't want to taint her. He didn't want to destroy her. He didn't want what happened to happen, and yet it did. But even then, he couldn't deny how beautiful she was as she bloomed, a flower that blossomed solely for him, exclusively under his touch and ministrations. And it crossed his mind, did he deserve this? Did he deserve her? Instead of dwelling on such things, he did what he thought he'd never do, and took the plunge.

He could be a brave soul when he wanted, perhaps even capricious and whimsical with his actions, as ghoulish and offensive as they seemed to everyone else but their tight knit family. But he never thought it would come to this. He never thought it could climb so high, only to fall so low. Part of him wanted to caress her again, to assure her that it was alright, and not to cry, but he hardly did things as such when it was the complete opposite of the truth. It wasn't alright, and she had every reason to cry. He hated her, for pulling him into her web, like a spider tempting a fly, for kissing him so softly and in the end making him shed all the clenched walls he worked so hard to build throughout his existence, for letting her fingers stroke his taut stomach, for letting him defile her with nothing but sweet encouraging smiles and sweet sighs that signaled no marks of regret. But most of all, he hated himself, for returning her touches, her embrace, her kisses so cloying that a trail of them still lingered from his lips to his plane of his chest. And so he made love to her, or...had sex with her. Or made love to her. His mind simply could not make the distinction, could not sort out fact from fiction. It was all a heated dream, and now, they were paying the price.

He just...wanted so much to be with her, but it was all too much, too fast. Apparently it was for her as well, but there was something else that tarried within her anguished gaze. Figuring he should at least say something to comfort the girl, he opened his mouth to speak, but she struck the chord faster than he could form the words.

"Do you regret it?"

That voice, so angelic, but tormented. Such a question made his heart skip a beat. He honestly didn't know if he regretted it or not. It was obvious he could rely on one truth, and that was he truly enjoyed being with her. He enjoyed being close to her, being able to touch her, when for so long the thought had been a nearly unaffected fantasy that he didn't dare go near for fear of being deemed a deviant in the eyes of society and himself. But it had spiraled from being provisional and sweet into something carnal and lusty, something he certainly wasn't ready for. Could it be that she didn't regret it at all, and that she was only concerned about him? Only concerned about his own feelings on the matter? Didn't she care about herself or her body at all?

"What does it matter what I think?"

He sounded like a toad that had been skinned and dried, and he winced at the sound of his own voice. She simply stared at him, her eyes glimmering gingerly amidst the shadows as the sun began to set.

"I...just wanted to be with you." She said, the contours of defeatist sumptuosity curving evil lines upon her perfect face.

Stork said nothing to that. He wanted to be with her too, he did, he swore to it in his heart. But something about their first time didn't feel right. It was too fleshly, too impulsive, too everything he wasn't at all accustomed to.

"Didn't you want to be with me?" Piper asked, her upward inflection rising to the heavens, practically, and it came to the point where it would hurt him to hear her speak.

And so he replied, hoping to minimize her words.

"I thought I did."

An expulsion of air, as though the wind had been knocked clean from her throat. Her lips parted, and the tears finally began to fall from the dams that feebly kept them at bay.

"Stop." He said.

And she didn't. Her hands rose to her lips, covering her mouth as she suddenly dropped her gaze to the floor, so overwhelmed by his words, overwhelmed by the fact that she had given her virginity to someone who didn't even want it.

"Please! I cant take it!" He said desperately, finally climbing off the bed and joining her on the floor, clutching her in both his spindly arms before she could possibly push him away.

"Why are you doing this?" She sobbed into his chest.

"Well I just can't leave you like this..." He said lamely, positioning her head so that it laid limply on his shoulder, like a wilted blue rose.

"You might as well if you regret it..."

"I don't regret it Piper, I just..."

He just what? He could only imagine what sorts of scenarios were running through her mind, mostly about how he had only wanted her for her body, and now that he had finally had a taste of what she had to offer, he no longer wanted the rest. It was heinous in his eyes, but it was probably how she felt, and so he thought quickly of ways to counteract such a hideous mentality. It wasn't a choice to leave her there, today, the way she was. He had to make something right, even if everything he did was so wrong.

"It was too fast." He whispered involuntarily, following the trail of his thoughts all the way to his dried cracked lips.

Piper curved her neck to look up at him, tilting her head in only semi comprehension. "Too fast? But Stork...why didn't you just say no if you weren't ready?"

Looking at the girl, this beautiful girl whom he had shared such a special moment with, he felt such a kinship with her, and yet the alienation he felt with anyone was alive as ever. She was right, in a way. Why didn't he just say no in the first place? Why didn't he wrench his hand away when she tried to lead him to her bedroom? Why did he have to accept that kiss in the first place? But he had done all of those things, accepted her quiet offer as though he wanted it all along, and maybe part of him did, but now, there was nothing but desolation between them, a ruined situation that could have been looked back upon with beauty, but now it was just an act of spontaneity, not of love like the both of them desired. Considering this, he gazed down at Piper, laying limply in his arms like a cradled child, and could only imagine how she would feel. Females were on a different wavelength, he always believed, and their emotions were far more to reckon with. She looked so breakable, not like the writhing moaning woman he had beneath him so soon before. The way she had clutched him, raked her nails against the surface of his back as though her dear life had depended on it, and he tried his best to return the passion, even though the niggling sensation in the back of his mind told him that it was not special enough, it was not torrid enough. It was nothing but a doubtful tryst and he despised this. He wanted to make it better for her, and for him as well. He felt he needed to bring her elation that he had denied her, even stolen from her.

But he needed time. Just a little bit more time.

And so he disentangled himself from her, but kept her hands within his own, which were calloused, rough to the touch.

"I don't regret it, but it was too much for me. Too fast."

"But...why? Did I do something wrong?" She asked, immediately questioning her own actions.

"No, no no no." Stork shook his head. "You should know me by now, Piper. I don't do this kind of thing on...just a whim."

"It wasn't a whim for me, ever since I've come of age I thought about you, and being with you." She said desperately, trying to overpower him with her own perspective before he could even begin to finish explaining his own. With a strange amount of authority in his tone, he said, quite firmly:

"If you want to be with me, then we need to slow things down. That's all I'm saying. I never said I didn't want to be with you, it was just too much too fast, and I need time to adjust."

He was surprised at himself; he never knew he had such a handle on his emotions. Usually they were fleeting shards of something intense and smoldering, but they went away after a few minutes of distraction. But now, he could do nothing but face this head on, and face it he did as best he could.

"So you...still want me?"

A decision had to be made. "...Yes, I do."

"Okay..." She said, nodding her head slightly, as though the weight of the world had lifted off her shoulders, but only slightly.

"But, I cant do this with you right now. Not for a while."

"I've wanted to be with you for so long Stork..." She said, reaching out to lightly touch his shoulder, and thank god his wincing was at a minimal and he didn't flinch at her touch. It was strange really, when he was with her, inside of her, connected with her at the deepest physical level but not clicking emotionally. There was just something more than extraordinary about it, and he wasn't sure he was ready to reach new heights.

Yet.

Yet yet yet, he thought.

"I...I should go." Stork said, stammering, and letting his voice fall a pitch higher than it normally should have.

"Before you go..." She hesitated at first, and then asked, "Are we together?"

Stork stood, hunched, legs spread awkwardly and his fingers dancing on each others tips in nervous anxiety. He knew what he should say. Yes, of course they were. They were in love. They were made for each other, their oddities compiled in a dysfunctional array of togetherness. That was how it should have been. But he felt otherwise, and to lie to Piper, would be an ungodly act, one that he refused to commit.

"No...not now."

Silence. His words had hurt her. Mutilated what was left of her sanity. He felt so ashamed of himself. Who was he, to dangle his affection in front of her like this, as though she were a dog and his heart was a piece of meat that she longed for, desired so desperately. But Piper was many things. Strong, was one of them. And so he would leave her, and she would leave him, giving each other ample space until the time came for yet another progression through the threshold.

"I love you..." She whispered, the forlorn ache so horribly evident in her voice, usually so high pitched and filled to the seething brim with effervescence and life. Now, it was devoid of such things. Stork considered his answer to her belief. No, it was no belief, at least, not to her. A belief was something that was based on strong opinions, not necessarily truth. But in her eyes, the truth held her adoration, and admiration for him wholeheartedly. It was the truth, that she loved him. The undying truth. He could not deny that he loved her as well. As a friend, indefinitely. More than that, he would, it seemed, forever ponder. It was not for certain he could give her what she wanted. Once again, he cursed himself. Giving her hope for something that may not even come. It made him feel like filth.

The truth is never easy.

"...I know."