Caged Birds

I don't own the Silent Hill franchise. This is based on the Birdman/Bird Cage mission from Silent Hill Downpour when you have to find the five blue birds located around Silent Hill and set them free.

Warning: Spoilers for these endings:
SH0 (Origins): Good
SH1: Good
SH2: Leave
SH3: Good
SH4 (The Room): Escape
SH5 (Homecoming): Smile

Warning: Mushiness, repeating themes and hyper-intelligent birds.

Enjoy the story!

"Poor little guy..." The brunette man climbed up onto the porch. There sitting in a lone cage was the last of five blue, malnourished birds. Without wasting a moment, the man walked up to the cage, unlocked it and opened the tiny door.

As with all the other birds, the blue creature immediately flew out, desperate for freedom. The scarred brunette smiled as he watched it squeal happily and soar out of view.

That was the last of the side-quests. Now that he'd finished everything he needed to do, he was ready to go to the pier and get out of this hellhole. Walking down the steps, he suddenly looked up after the bird.

"I wonder where they go..."

There always seemed to be something holding him back. Something that prevented him from moving forward as fast as he wanted to.

At a truck stop between Brahms and Portland, a bearded man sat, tiredly fingering the rim of his glass. It was early in the morning but the man was right awake in a disturbing yet common state of insomnia. For the last two hours, he had been absent-mindedly staring at something he'd been wearing around his neck since he was young: a small silver quarter attached on a string. His 'lucky quarter.'

Thirty odd years ago, Travis Grady had changed his life for the better. Most would say that Travis lived the last few years of his life as well as a trucker could: driving, enjoying the open road, meeting new people, giving rides to hitchhikers... that sort of thing. Most would say that Travis lived life free and easy.

Most didn't know Travis very well.

There were many things that troubled Travis; inner demons he had defeated a long time ago but still haunted him; thinking of his mother's insanity, the memory of her father's suicide... his own disturbed, unhealthy mind. Just because he had overcome the horrors of Silent Hill, didn't mean he was completely free of them.

He hated Silent Hill. When he left he had burnt every weapon, health drink, item... everything he had gotten there (save for his Lucky Quarter: he was too emotionally attached to it.) He thought that would have ended it all and, with his resolve to start again, he would have moved on. Yet questions began to circulate his head and plague him for a good part of thirty years.

That girl... Alessa. He often wondered what happened to her and that small baby. Were they alright? How was she? Why did she have to show him the memories of Helen and Richard Grady? He still had horrible (albeit extremely infrequent) nightmares about them all the time.

Then there were those monsters. Despite those damn things running around trying to kill him, he still didn't like taking them out. He hated even looking at roadkill, so to kill a living creature... it was not a pleasant experience for Travis. Then there was the whole demon thing... he still was unclear on what had happened there but rest assured, that had a lot to do with the questioning of his sanity. He didn't even want to get started on how the Butcher appeared in rare dreams to reintroduce Travis to his cleaver. It was all too much for Travis and sometimes, he had to wonder why he could never let go.

It wasn't to say Travis spent all his life worrying. He did live. Time had healed most of his wounds; the remaining ones were just... memories that wouldn't heal. Maybe they were permanent scars for his mind. He wasn't sure.

The clock of the diner struck six in the morning snapped him out of his idle thoughts. It was time to hit the road so he could make his delivery in time. After flicking a small tip into the jar on the bar counter, the man strolled out of the truck stop into the slowly-waking world. The small place he had stopped in was quiet, the lonely sounds only coming from his own footsteps.

Why couldn't everything be this simple? Travis was a simple guy. He enjoyed the easy things in life. He didn't need torment in his head. He just wanted to relax and drive. How hard was it to ask for a little normality in his traumatised head?

A loud chirp brought Travis' attention out of his thoughts. The unusual sound was coming from his truck. Curious, the trucker walked up closer and gave a small smile. There was an adorable, lone blue bird- tiny enough to fit in his oversized hand- standing on the bonnet of his truck. Its feathery head was bobbing up and down, as if it had been waiting for the man to arrive. The capped man chuckled as he looked at the bird again. On its tiny, endearing features, it looked like it was concentrating very hard on examining him.

Slowly, the large man offered his hand towards the seemingly friendly creature. It jumped backwards but, oddly enough, it didn't fly away.

"Hey there little fella." He said slowly. "Are you going my way?" He asked. The bird shrilled loudly, causing the man to laugh.

"I see..." Travis smirked. The bird opened opened its wings and flew around Travis head. It was obviously tamed at some point since it was so friendly with him. "Do you want a ride to Portland? I gotta say, it's probably a lot faster with wings and no obstacles weighing you down." he chuckled. The bird gave another circle around the bemused man.

Travis loved animals. Dogs were his favourite but birds made it pretty high on his list. They were so intelligent and... well... who didn't envy something that could fly? They had a simple life. Nothing to hold them down and keep them from flying forward.

"I got room in the truck. You can come if you want." The creature eyed him curiously and landed back on its perch. The expression on the bird made it look like it was contemplating something. The old man gave another grin. It was very cute.

Not even bothering to pretend the bird answered him, the man unlocked his automobile. The suddenly blinking lights made the creature jump.

"Oh? Okay... Don't like cages huh?" Travis sighed. "I understand." He checked his watch. "Well... I have to now. This cargo won't deliver itself." He joked. "Nice meeting you birdie. Enjoy the rest your life." He said, opening the door.

However, before he could step up very far up the metal truck steps, the blue bird suddenly spread his wings and swooped down towards Travis. The man yelped as the creature nipped the thin, exposed string around his neck; causing his old, memory-laced silver quarter to fall into the soft dirt.

"Hey! What was that for?" Travis asked as quickly he hopped down the steps to get the memento. He knew birds were smart and some liked shiny things... but he had never seen a bird actually attack someone for a trinket. The small bird was far more agile then Travis and grabbed the alluringly-shiny object in its beak. "Hey! Give that back! I'm warning you bird! That's mine!" After giving a tiny, muffled sound, the bird flew off, leaving Travis in its dust.

"Hey! Come back here!" Travis yelled as the cheeky bird flew higher and higher. It flipped and swirled in the air, almost mockingly, and the grown man couldn't do anything but watch the bird disappear from his sight.

"Damn it... give that back..." Travis was about to give chase when he realised how stupid the idea was. Following a bird for a quarter... the other truckers would never let him live that down. He couldn't believe how stupid that sounded too.

"Maybe it is time to let go of that suicidal thing anyway." Travis muttered under his breath. "Damn... sorry dad... but... it's not my fault that the damn bird liked my coin." No matter how he looked at it, he'd just have to let things be. Unamused that he'd been robbed by a bird, the man hopped into the truck and rubbed his neck consciously.

It was weird not having that small piece of metal pressing against his skin or pulling his neck down. He had that coin for as long as he could remember and couldn't remember the last time he hadn't worn it. It was unusual.

In fact... oddly... it felt easier to look up without that quarter dangling there. There was an unusual feeling bubbling inside of him. It was light and fluttery. It sent lots of tiny goosebumps up his hairy arms. It was a good feeling that he hadn't felt in a while.

The feeling was similar to... the night he realised Helen and Richard Grady weren't haunting him. The night where he prevailed through Silent Hill. The world seemed warmer and a bit brighter that day, but now... it felt like he had been thrown into a whole new world.

That was it. With that coin gone, he had broken all ties to Silent Hill and his past. He felt immediately better for some reason. It was just a coin but... somehow getting rid of it made him feel thirty years younger.

"Hmm... what do you know... that metaphoric baggage trash has some stock to it after all." muttered Travis bemusedly as he revved up the engine. He took a look into his rearview mirror, trying to spot out the bird, but saw nothing but the rising sun in the red sky.

The man grinned and he freely drove back onto the wide, open road.

Nothing holding him back. Nothing stopping him from moving forward.

Oddly, being hit in the face with a soccer ball was one of the best ways James started a Saturday morning. Sure it hurt like hell, but it was better then some of the events that James Sunderland had woken up to.

The the impact was so hard that it pushed the man back onto the soft grass. Groaning, James wondered how could his newly adopted daughter have such a hard kick- while said daughter laughed at his misfortune.

"Hey old man! Fart-face! Are you even paying attention? If you were 'heading' the ball, you're doing it all wrong."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm okay. Thanks for asking me brat." Laura Sunderland stuck her tongue out him as she retrieved the ball and tossed it into the air. As he picked himself up, Laura began bouncing the soccer ball up and down on her head, not even bothering to spare a second glance at James. Even though James wasn't amused by the umpteenth bruise he had received from the girl, he was impressed yet again by Laura's hidden talents (the first of which being her ability to play the piano).

It was common to see the two in the park. James had taken it upon himself to try and take the blonde girl out as much as he could. Part of it was James trying to live out his life; the other part was just him trying to be a good father to Laura... and prove to her that he could make her happy like he promised.

He had promised that to Laura in the hotel room where he had remembered he'd killed Mary. It was after he had faced that hideous Maria-monster and confronted the last manifestation of his beautiful wife. He was going to read the letter she had given him if not for seeing the little girl, watching the horrible video for herself. He let her watch it the whole way through, watching over her in silence. When Laura finally spotted him, she screamed at him again but it was half-hearted as she focused more on trying to conceal her tears. He had told he would try to make it up to her. Laura said nothing after that.

It was all history from there. He had asked Laura if she wanted to leave Silent Hill together with him and, after initial rejection, they did. Oddly enough it was Laura who suggested her adoption- she wanted her last name to be like Mary's- and James agreed.

The adoption papers were tricky to rustle up but, four weeks after they had left Silent Hill, Laura was officially Laura Mary Sunderland: daughter of James Sunderland.

"Hey! James! Heads up!" James only just managed to chest-bump the incoming soccer ball. Laura's eyes widened as the ball unexpectedly came back to her but she flicked it up with her feet and bumped it on her head again. This time, she didn't bounce it professionally as the ball landed on her hair tie, causing it to bounce and roll into the bushes.

"Not so professional now, are you Laura?"

"Shut up. You made me miss." She scolded, punching him in the arm. James looked at her bemusedly before the girl ran after the white and black checkered sphere. He watched the bush get pummeled as Laura pushed her way through it before diverting his attention to the sky. It was a beautiful Spring morning- perfect for any family occasion such as this. As much as Laura hated him (and vice-versa) originally, they had grown close. For them, their spats and pointless bickering was just a way for them to show their affection for each other. A way for them to be a happy family.

Mary wanted a happy family. Mary would want to be there right now; probably laughing at them and telling them to behave while she sat under the shade of a tree with a picnic basket. Mary would want to see her two favourite people alive right there.

Despite him resolving to move on with his life, James couldn't help but thinking back to his beloved Mary. What would she think of him now? Was he doing the right thing?

He wasn't necessarily a bad father: he sent Laura to school; cooked half-decent meals and tried to spend time with her when he wasn't working but... he had never raised a child before. It had been three years and they acted as if they had just walked out of hell. Were they supposed to have a dysfunctional relationship or was that just a Sunderland family thing? Could he really do this without Mary?

"Hey! James! Look what I found!" The man snapped out of his thoughts to see Laura, running towards him with a small azure bird gripping her hair. The little critter was chirping loudly and flapping its wings excitedly as the girl excitedly jumped in front of James. "She wants to come home with us! Please! Can we keep her? She's so cute!"

"Laura... You're not allowed to take birds from the park. You can play with the bird but don't hurt him." The little blonde girl frowned at him.

"What are you? Stupid?" James grimaced at her tone. "Number one: it's a girl and number two: the bird isn't from around here. Haven't you been paying attention? This isn't a local bird." James had no idea how to respond to that. Although couldn't confirm what she was saying, he had learnt to trust Laura's information; she had a knack for knowing things she shouldn't know.

"So it belongs to someone?" Laura shrugged.

"Probably. Maybe she's a pet. She's very friendly." As if to confirm this, the bird nestled into Laura's hair like a nest. James withheld his snort of amusement but Laura only looked proud at the tiny thing. "Please, can we keep her? I promise I'll take care of her. I'll use my pocket money to feed her and everything! Please James!" James looked down at her. The little girl was pulling her most dastardly, secret weapon: her puppy dog eyes. Although James was good at ignoring the look, he couldn't help but melt at her face this time. Usually Laura just wanted some money to by some unusual knickknack off the internet; now she wanted to legitimately take care of a creature. He had never seen her so eager. It was touching in every way.

James gave a sigh.

"Fine." The thirty-two year old groaned. "Even though I know I will end up taking care of her..."

"Hey!"

"If she doesn't have an owner, we can keep her." Laura's eyes lit up and a broad smile slapped on her face. "But... we need to take her to the vet first to get her checked AND we need to actually look for the owner. Don't be lazy and just keep her."

As if in agreement, the bird began to chirp loudly again. Laura nodded as she excitedly plucked the bird off her head and looked happily at it. James gave a weary sigh, but even he couldn't keep the small smile off his face.

"Come on doofus! Let's go to the vet now!" Laura announced as she began triumphantly walking off to the car.

"Now?" James asked as he followed in her wake. The girl rolled her eyes.

"No, next year... of course I mean now. Now means NOW!" James groaned; suddenly having second thoughts and wondering what he had gotten himself into. Laura was giving herself a big responsibility... like he did when he took her in. Could she handle it? Was she trustworthy enough to take care of the creature?

He knew the answer; and it applied to him too. They both could take care of their loved ones. Maybe he needed a bit more faith in himself. He had done alright with taking care of Laura and living his life. He was doing alright.

He was... actually happy.

He couldn't believe that it took a bird to make him realise that.

"Can I name her Maria?" James snapped his head over and stared at Laura and the bird in her hair. "You know, like Mary. Can I name her Maria?"

"No." Laura gave a slight frown.

"Why not?"

"Because not." Laura groaned at the stupid answer before trying to think of another name.

"How about Angela?" James gave a solemn glare.

"Do you want to keep that bird?"

"Alright... alright. Geeze. What's biting you?" Laura snapped, however still clearly in a good mood. She paused for a minute. "Rachel then. She was the name of our nurse." She looked at James.

"Rachel is fine." Laura gave a small squeal of delight and, without realising what she was doing, she and the little azure bird hugged James.

"Thanks Dad! You're the best!" James hugged her back.

Oddly, being bullied by his eleven year old daughter and her pet was one of the best ways to spend a Saturday afternoon.

"And now the news. Yesterday, in Ashfield and the woods near Silent Hill, the bodies of five apparent murder victims and a sixth severely wounded female were discovered. The woman was immediately rushed to St. Jerome's hospital, but died a short time later of her injuries. The woman has been identified as a Miss Eileen Galvin of Ashfield."

"Eileen..."

"The last body discovered was found in Room 302 of the South Ashfield Heights apartments. It is believed to be of its occupant, Henry Townshend. The body was reportedly disfigured beyond recognition, making identification impossible..."

"Mom... Mom... I'm home. I won't let anyone get in my way... I'm going to stay with you forever..."

"Argh!" Blankets were thrown aside and a figure shot straight up, terrified. He gripped the blankets and looked hastily at his surroundings, almost fearful of what he would see. When his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he almost gave a loud cry of relief.

No, he wasn't in that accursed apartment. He was in the dawn-illuminated bedroom of his new apartment. His non-creepy apartment on the other side of Ashfield. However, despite his relief, Henry Townshend felt sick to the bone. That dream- it seemed so realistic like the last ones...

Careful not to make a sound, Henry slid out of the large bed and walked into the connected bathroom. He splashed his face with the chilling water several times, trying to calm down his breathing and heart rate. He'd thought by now that those horrible nightmares would've stop- but they just seemed to get worse and worse.

The first dream was how he never moved from the apartment after killing Walter and how he slowly went insane by being trapped 302's rotting walls. He had succeeded in defeating Walter in his second dream but never managed to save Eileen... that was a dream he had a particular hatred for: but that dream... that dream just wanted to make him vomit. It was so grotesquely realistic that he had to stare at his reflection in the mirror and make sure his face hadn't been mutilated beyond recognition.

It had been almost a year and a half since he had escaped that hell hole. He had escaped to be free and live his life. He had done pretty well for himself too: gotten a new job as a photographer for the local paper and gotten a new apartment. All in all, life was supposedly all good for Henry.

The dreams were thankfully infrequent but never the less made an impact on his life. He couldn't move on from the trauma. At home, the doors were always left partially open; the apartment was left unlocked when he was at home; and there was an easily accessible box in the kitchen filled with Holy Candles and Saint Medallions. They were all little precautions... just in case... just in case something horrible happened again.

How long did he have to live in fear that this would happen again? How long did he have to try and ignore the horrible feelings inside of him and try keep the memories at bay? How much longer could he keep silent and keep people worrying from worrying about him? He was supposed to have left everything behind him. Yet his thoughts were trapped in a permanent loop.

The man walked into the living room and went to the window. He would often watch the morning by himself when he got scared and this was no different. He knew that the tranquility that came from the sunrise always soothed his nerves.

Here, his window view didn't look to his neighbours' homes but out over the lone apartment's terrace where a few trees were scattered around. It was a much-wanted change of view and, despite he was almost face to face with a tree, he wouldn't have changed it for anything.

The photographer stared blankly at the grey-looking world... before something moving caught his sharp eyes. Henry looked over to the tree closest to him and saw a small, foreign cobalt-coloured bird, struggling to make a nest.

The bird was hopping around on a branch with a few twigs in its mouth. It was trying to figure out how to weave the nest. However, it only succeeded in breaking the pathetic-looking structure when it bent down to add another stick. Henry watched curiously as the bird screeched, in what resembled aspiration, before swooping down and collecting its twigs again. It flew up and began to try again.

Henry couldn't tell how much time had passed, but he knew it must have been well over three hours since he had started to watch the bird build its nest. Poor thing. It was trying to build back its home but it didn't know how to. It kept falling apart. The way the bird defeatedly screeched every time its nest broke almost made Henry's heart break.

For a second Henry reached his arm out, as if to tell the bird to stop trying, but he quickly lowered the appendage. Almost as quickly as he originally noted the bird's suffering, he noted that every time that the bird would build its nest, it would grow a bit more in size. The bird may have had twice as much to fix when the structure fell, but it was slowly growing more confident in its actions. It was adapting and changing with each failure, keeping from making the same mistake to complete its task.

"Maybe I should do the same..." Henry muttered to himself absent-mindedly. There was a light close of a door and then a lone, soft voice rang through the living room.

"Henry?" The man turned to see the brunette woman, huddled in her warm night-robe. "It's so early in the morning... What are you doing awake?"

"It's nothing Eileen. Just enjoying the view." Eileen walked up to him slowly before wrapping her arms around him in a comforting hug. Henry put his arms around her and she leaned her head on his shoulder; entwining their warm hands and letting their gold rings touch. "Did you sleep well?" The woman nodded and bit her bottom lip. She gave a long sigh before slowly looking up into Henry's eyes.

"Did you have another nightmare?" she asked quietly. Henry's face didn't show emotion but he felt his heart jump into his throat. It took a moment for the man to respond.

"How did you know?"

"I was wondering when you would tell me about them." Eileen said as she gave Henry's hand a light squeeze. "You've woken me up every time you've had one."

"Oh... I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry for not confronting you earlier. I'm getting worried about you Henry..." The man averted his eyes from hers and looked at the little bird: hopping around madly and trying to sort the last few pieces of its nest. Eileen continued to talk. "It's just... you're always so distant from other people Henry. I was just hoping that you would have opened up by now... and maybe a little more to me." There was a gentle silence between them.

"I've been trying... just... there hasn't beem a lot of opportunities." Henry finally managed to utter out. Eileen smiled at him gently.

"Well... I'm going out with a few college mates tomorrow for an informal dinner. If you're not working, would you like to come with me?" The tone of Eileen's voice was inviting but it was clear that she didn't expect him to accept. Usually, Henry preferred stay at home alone when Eileen went out in case some idiot brought up an... uncomfortable topic.

Was that how he really lived? Like a hermit? Always with walls up and never moving from the past?

Maybe he really did need to change.

"Sure." Eileen's face looked at his in surprise. He gave a nervous chuckle. "I feel like a change." The woman's face softened to another of her sweet smiles and she gave her partner an affectionate hug. Embarrassed but not unwilling, Henry accepted it and stroked the woman's hair as she did so. There they stood, content in holding in each other.

"... So..." Eileen eventually said, "did you want to talk about...?" Henry gently stroked her back and she nodded. "You know..."

"Not now." Henry said as he let go of her and held her hands "... I promise you I will tell you everything later today... But now's not the time." He kissed her on the lips briefly but tenderly. "The sun is rising soon... I think I want to enjoy this with you." Eileen blushed.

"I love you Henry."

"I love you too Eileen."

There was suddenly a triumphant chirp outside. The husband and wife looked out the window, curious to see what was happening. Henry smiled as he saw what had caused the noise and pointed Eileen to the source.

There, sitting in the tree, was a small cobalt bird in a perfectly completed nest.

It would have been so easy to end it all right there and then. Just end it all and end the suffering. Alex's hand obsessively slid up and down the harsh metal of the gun, almost tempting fate to tell him what to do.

It had been a few months since he and Elle moved to Portland. Their old lives should have been put aside; but here Alex found himself again. Back in this cruel, nightmarish place filled with dusty memories of hatred. Alone, he sat on the front porch of the Shepherd house, waiting for his mind to finally make a decision.

Do or die? Live through a nightmare or enter a new one? Go to hell or live through one?

He was confused and suffering. He was completely lost.

It had been half a year since he had killed most of the populace of Shepherd's Glen and went through Silent Hill and yet he was still tortured. The memories were fresh and his wounds were still deep. Elle had tirelessly tried to help him but it was no use. Alex kept pushing her help away. She didn't understand. She wasn't going through an identity crisis.

Who was he?

He had believed he was a solider. He had believed he protected people. He had believed he was a hero.

He had believed the fantasies of a scared, desperate child.

He was no solider; he was a mental patient with the combat skills his father had taught him.

He didn't protect people, he killed them. Josh, his mother, Judge Holloway, Curtis; they were all dead by his hands.

He wasn't a hero; where was Shepherd's Glen now? He saved Elle and Wheeler but he didn't save his home.

Most of his memories were lies. Everything he thought about himself were delusions. What was real? What could he really do? There were so many things he got wrong.

He stuffed up the the ritual and as a result, all of Shepherd's Glen was gone. He knew every person in that small town, and he might as well condemned them all to death. He should have been the one to die. Him. Him. HIM. The monsters... what if they weren't monsters? What if they were people? What if he killed actual people because of his twisted state of mind? He could have been just paranoid but there was always the chance...

All the effort to break the order and to find out what had happened... for what? To realise he was the cause? Why did he have to live? He fought to survive and now surviving was his curse. He knew it was wrong to think like that- but he couldn't help it.

He could still feel the blood on his hands. He could feel it now. Under his gloves it was wet and dribbling down his arms. It was driving him insane.

There were moments that he wished that he did drown instead of his brother.

It was the same repetitive, torment that was going to break him. He consciously knew that but he let it happen. He didn't need help. He needed to die.

He was nothing but insane and useless. No one could help him. He couldn't help anyone properly.

He wasn't a hero. He was a coward. He couldn't take it anymore but at the same time he couldn't bring himself to end it. He knew death for him wouldn't let him see Josh again. He had done too much wrong. No one would forgive him.

He aimed the gun at his temple; then at his neck; then his heart; then his mouth, trying to decide what to do. Should he just try to struggle forward or just stop calling for help?

Alex stared up into the dark, ever-cloudy sky. It was always miserable these days. A permanent fog-world over the deserted place. The only moving things were a few birds, just passing through the town. He gave a sigh.

Suddenly, he heard a dull shriek of pain that split the silence. The man looked up in surprise and jumped to his feet. Was somebody there? His hands instinctively wrapped around the gun and he walked out, trying to follow where the cries were coming from.

After a few minutes of searching his front garden, Alex found what was making the noise. A navy blue bird that was squirming on the ground, its wing in a very awkward position. It was clearly in pain. The way it was flopping about in the grass, its beady eyes nervous- the way it could not fly. It disturbed Alex how weak and vulnerable it looked.

"Hey..." Alex put his gun back in its holster and knelt down. He hated the way the bird would right itself, then hop into the air, and fall right back down again. Alex tried to reach for the bird but it gave a loud shriek. "Hey! I'm trying to help you! Calm down!" The bird wept as it kept trying to flap its wing and take off. It took a few awkward moments for Alex to grab the bird in his gloved hands- without hurting it- and even longer to calm it down.

"Hey... Hey... Calm down..." Alex crooned as he uncurled his fingers to examine the bird. While it wanted to fly away and be free, it was so tired. Alex was no vet, but even he could tell what's wrong. "A broken wing huh? Don't worry buddy... it will heal eventually." He wasn't sure what possessed him to do it, but he began to carry the tired bird inside. While he didn't have much knowledge on medicine, he knew that his grandmother had kept an old animal medical book. It was lurking on the living room bookshelf somewhere.

He found it quickly and tried to settle the bird. The bird screeched loudly and scratched him.

"Hey! Stop fighting. I know I'm not in your shoes but give me a chance. You have to try and let me help you." He flicked through the book and followed its instructions. "Stop feeling sorry for yourself already. You have a good reason but it'd be great if you help me help make you better."

Thankfully the book consisted of a lot of diagrams: it took a while for Alex to get the gauze tape around the bird's arm and body into its correct position. The bird didn't make the process easier. In fact, the way it was wailing made it sound like it wanted Alex to put him out of its misery rather then continue to help.
The bird screeched again.

"Shut up already. I'm almost done. If you keep thrashing you're only gonna make it worse." The bird winced as Alex tucked away the last of the tape. For a second, it looked like it was about to create more ruckus but, upon realising that Alex had helped it. it chirped happily. The young man ushered the bird back into an old dog carrier. The navy creature fell asleep quickly. Alex gave a small smile and moved to the kitchen where he began washing his dry, coarse hands.

"Somehow... I feel that could have gone faster if you had just let me help you in the first place." Alex groaned, switching off the tap and walking back to spy on the bird. It had taken some effort but the bird was finally at peace. Alex smiled at the small creature in contented silence.

Then it hit him. He took out his gun and stared at it for a while, feeling the violent metal underneath his fingertips. Alex could only wonder:

What the hell was he thinking an hour ago?

If you want to heal, you can work alone, but its okay to accept help.

He threw the weapon on the ground and stepped on it. Quickly, he whipped out his phone and called the first number on his speed dial.

"Hello? Alex?"

"Hello Elle."

"Oh my gosh! Alex! Where are you? I came to your apartment but you weren't in! Where are you? You had me worried sick!" Alex gave a nervous laugh and scratched the back of his head. They had planned on going out today. He had forgotten about that because of his awful self-pity.

"I'm in Shepherd's Glen."

"What? What are you doing there?" Alex winced as the familiar, concerned voice blasted into his ear. He had to hold the phone slightly back. He had forgotten how aggressively concerned his best friend could be.

"Listen... I've been stupid lately and I want to apologise." There was a pause and a shuffle on the other end of the phone.

"Apologise? For what?"

"For being a moron." He had expected her to laugh but he just got her confusion.

"Eh?"

"Never mind. I'll explain later. Listen... I want to talk to you about a few things. Do you mind getting the car and picking me and... a friend... up from my place?"

"Hey dad... I'm sorry that I haven't been visiting lately." The girl paused, brushing her black hair out of her face. "I've been so busy with work lately. I'm on break now, so expect me coming every few days." The only response she received was the whisper of the wind. She sighed. "...Your book was published yesterday. I bought two copies so you could have one... I still can't believe you wrote a books for mums. Still... it's pretty good." She placed a book down as well as one of her favourite flowers. She didn't know what kind he liked- he'd always buy things that she liked. She regretted not knowing her father as well as he knew her.

"Douglas has been working hard lately. He told me to say 'Hi' to you." Cheryl sighed. "He's so busy but he always manages to find time to come and check up on me. I'm not a little girl anymore- I live by myself and I work. I can take care of myself yet... he insists on coming. I don't mind it when he does... it's just ... and that's the problem. I want him to visit me and comfort me sometimes. Do you think I'm being a burden dad? Too clingy?"

She hated how there was no answers for her. She gave a long and weary sigh, trying to lighten up the mood between her and the tombstone.

"I met with one of your friends from college. Some Michelle Valdez. We met up, had coffee and talked about you. I can't believe how much of a dork you were dad." She gave a small laugh. "You were so smart and yet you managed to somehow get locked in a girl's bathroom." She gave the grave a smile. "Don't worry... we didn't insult you the whole time. I just wanted you to know that I have been socialising and not doing anything stupid."

She stood there for a few moments. She wasn't expecting a reply but it was still depressing to only hear leaves answer her.

"I still can't believe it's been two years since you left dad. I miss you so much." She knelt down and stared at the marble cross. Beneath its engraved words, Cheryl "Heather" Mason could see herself in its polished, marble surface.

She looked very different now: her eyes were brighter and her face had less lines (she had quit smoking permanently now). Her hair was still very light with a reminiscent of dye but she had started growing it naturally. It was clear that she was now a young woman; mature and world-wearier then ever. She had changed a lot since he had died.

"I'm alright... I really am... but I sometimes wonder... are you happy with me?" Cheryl whispered as she touched the grave's cold surface. "Are you happy that you kept me dad? Even if I became a vengeful screwup?"

"I... want you to be proud of me... but... I don't think I can be like you. Yeah... you were clumsy and awkward and a worrywart..." she could feel the tears swelling in her eyes. She didn't bother to wipe them. "You were my hero dad. You gave your world to me. It still hurts when you're gone." She gently touched the necklace that her father gave her for her birthday. Even though the Aglaophotis had been used up, she still wore it like he told her to and never took it off. "I love you and miss you daddy. Are you happy? Are you happy with me?"

"Cheer up! Cheer up!"

Cheryl looked up in shock. Who was that? For a brief, fantastical moment, she thought that was her father, coming to comfort her. She almost cried when she saw that it was not her beloved father from the dead but a beautiful bird just chirping.

"Chirp! Chirp!"

It was sitting at the top of Harry's grave, chirping for all its might. For a second, Cheryl felt like shooing the bird away- how dare did it try to get her hopes up?- but she knew it was not to fault. She just clung on to the only family member she had ever had. It wasn't the bird's fault that she was so dependent on him. Her body and mind felt weak. She just tiredly looked up at the small winged beast.

"Chirp." The bird flew down. On instinct, Cheryl outstretched her hand and the bird perched on her index finger. She couldn't help but smile at how friendly the little critter was.

"Are you lost?" She asked the little bird, bringing it up to her face. She saw that the bird was a bit small and looked a little malnourished. "What's a caged bird like you doing here?" The woman reached into her pocket and brought out some of her sandwich. The bird chirped appreciatively and began devouring the bread crumbs Heather offered him.

"You shouldn't be here. Not by this grave of all places." The bird didn't stop pecking at the crumbs yet Cheryl continued talking to it. "Do you know where we are? We're by the grave of the most... amazing man ever..." Cheryl nodded. "So have some respect next time, okay?"

The bird nodded and gave a few happy notes. It looked happy with Cheryl and nuzzled her cheek. Cheryl nearly cringed at the gesture. The feathery touch was almost like... like when she hugged him and burrowed her face into his soft shirts. She wasn't sure why this little creature was bothering with her. It wasn't like she was the biggest animal enthusiast- she was more of an insect person- yet she was somehow bonding with this curious cerulean creature.

"You're lucky you know. You get to see the world." She told it. "You're cute so you're going to have people love you regardless of your... annoying chirping. You shouldn't be in this place... you should be free and prosper." Something dawned on Cheryl. "And... I don't know what's stopping me from doing the same."

What was stopping her? Yes she had screwed up but that wasn't the reason why she was upset or clingy.

She couldn't move on because she didn't want to.

Deep down she knew, regardless of what she did, her father loved her very much. He wouldn't have cared about what she did or didn't do because he loved her more then anything. Even though she said that she wanted to move on, she didn't want to move on without her dad.

"Because he's been with me for so long..."

"And I always will be. I'm so proud of you princess. Please be happy."

That was Harry's voice. That wasn't just in her head. Cheryl shot her head up and looked left and right. The blonde-brunette could have sworn she had heard him. There was no mistaking it. He was there. He was there. At least in spirit her father was watching over her. She couldn't see him but she knew he was around somewhere. Even in death he was happy to see her. He was happy to see her. Heather. Cheryl. All of her.

Water began invading her eyes and the girl began to cry the most tears she had ever shed. As she broke down at the grave, the bird hopped out of her hands -so she could bury her face with them- but stayed with her as she wept. Tears that had a mixture of happiness and sorrow in every drop she shed.

It was a long time before the girl managed to muster the strength to stand. She wiped her face on her fluffy wristband before looking up at the grave. She gave it a comfortable nod before turning to the perched bird. After cupping the creature in her hands, she brought the bird back up to her face and spoke softly.

"You know... whoever set you free... Thank them for me okay?" Cheryl smiled as she gave a very Disney-esque kiss on the bird's head. She couldn't help it. She loved fairytales as a kid. "I think I realised something. Something that I've known for a long time."

Like a solider accepting a mission, the bird gave a nod of its head. Cheryl opened her slim hands and the bird quickly took off into the sunrise. Cheryl watched it until it completely disappeared, her smile never faltering.

After what seemed like eternity, she knelt down to the grave and kissed the headstone.

"And thank you daddy. For loving me always. I'll do my best to make you proud. I'll see you tomorrow... say 'hi' to Momma Jodie for me. I miss her too." Cheryl slowly whispered. She then read the familiar words etched on Harry's tombstone.

In loving memory of Harrold Mason.
Writer, husband and the world's best father. You will be missed for eternity.

You can lose all you have
He refused to give in to the town that takes all
Survive, you must have the will

Those birds reminded him of that beautiful day in the flower-field. He remembered walking slowly towards his son who waved back at him. They had played and rested in that beautiful field for hours, watching birds fly and enjoying each others' company. It was easily one of the best days of his life.

They were only at that field a few days before Charlie...

"Charlie..." Murphy Pendleton muttered. "I'm sorry..."

"Chirp! Chirp!"

"Hmm?" A small cerulean bird swooped onto his shoulder. "It's one of those birds I set free from the cages..." He raised his eyebrow. What was it doing here? "Hey there little guy... what's wrong?" he asked. That was odd, none of the birds ever came back before. Did something happen? The bird just stood on his shoulder and tilted its head.

Suddenly, the bird pecked him hard on the cheek.

"Ow!" Murphy exclaimed. As if laughing at him, the bird erupted into high pitched tweets. "Hey! What was that for?"

Now finished its task, the little bird ignored the prisoner and spread its wings.

Taking its flight to freedom.

Thanks for reading all!

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