((Helloooo everyone! As said in the summary, this is a major crossover my friend wrote, with a mixture of, Don't hug me I'm scared, Marvel, and Chucky.

I do not own this story, all credit goes to her, she wrote it. I am just putting it here :3. Please enjoy and review so I may tell her what you guys think!))

Chapter 1. The Empty House.
"I know, I know."
"No you don't."
"Yeah I do. And this is stupid. It's just a cat."
"Well, I don't like cats."
"What has Rainbow Cat ever done to you?"
On July 27, at 3:27 in the morning, the bird and the boy were fighting with each other in
the kitchen. The two were standing at opposite ends of the table, glaring at each other.
The boy held a gray cat in his arms. The bird seemed to be trying his best to keep away
from the cat.
"It's plotting my demise," came a low growl from across the kitchen. The bird had
always hated the boy's cat, but he had never spoken of it out loud before. Not that he
didn't let the boy know how much he hated the gray thing. He was always shooting dirty
looks at the cat, whenever it happened to be in the vicinity. He would threaten the cat if
it came to close, and yelled at it when it ignored his warnings, but refrained from ever
hitting it, or insulting it openly.
For some reason, something inside of him had snapped that night. The bird had been
drinking tea, using an old newspaper as a placemat. The cat had leapt onto the table.
Unaware of the bird's open hostility toward it, the cat chirped happily at him, and dunked
its paw into his tea. The bird whacked her with the newspaper, while recoiling in fear as
though she were a diseased rat. The cat had jumped down, mewling in pain, just in time
for the boy, who had heard the cat's meows, to walk into the kitchen, and see the whole
scene. They got into a shouting match over it, completely forgetting about their
caretaker, who was miraculously still asleep.
"I don't see what your problem is," the boy hissed, "when has she ever tried to harm
you?"
The bird countered, "She's too smart to attack me physically. But she gets her licks in
other ways." The boy rolled his eyes. Scowling, the bird continued, "remember that time
when I made a plate of poptarts, and she ate them all? I mean, what kind of a cat eats
poptarts?"
The boy shifted awkwardly. "I admit," he said, "that was kinda weird. But still. It's the
same as the time that stray dog ate your sandwich. You didn't get mad at him for that,
and you didn't even know him."
The bird glared at the boy. "It was different."
"No it wasn't, you're just being biased and prejudiced against cats!"
"WHAT DO YOU EXPECT, I'M A BIRD!"
"Boys, what are you doing in here at this hour? You should be asleep," said a tired
voice.
The bird and the boy stared at each other for a moment, horrified, then simultaneously
turned their heads towards the speaker. The tall, red bearded creature that they simply
knew as their caretaker stood in the doorway. Years ago, before the bird had even
hatched, the guardian had adopted the boy, who was an orphan. To the caretaker's
great surprise, the boy was not alone. He had been found clutching the egg, insisting
that he had to protect it. The guardian had taken both of them in.
The boy had been too young to remember much of their early years, and the bird had
not even been alive. He remembered vaguely that they were constantly on the road,
moving from place to place, never staying anywhere for too long. He had often, tearfully,
asked the guardian why they could not stay in one place; he would often have to leave
friends behind. The guardian would never answer this. He would only say softly, "When
you're older, you will understand. Not now. Not yet." And the boy would know that he
would get no more answers, and to let it go.
"We were just," the bird mumbled.
The guardian looked at them both in turn.
"Couldn't sleep." The boy finished awkwardly.
At his words, the guardian seemed to take on an expression of sadness. He often
looked this way these days, after what the bird referred to as "The Event." Sad, tired,
and scared, he had become distant, unreachable. After The Event, he hardly came out
of his room. The guardian would stay in there for hours, not making a sound. At first, the
boy and the bird had not known what to think. They had hung around his door,
tentatively, sensing that something was wrong. The bird had tried knocking on the door,
but there was no answer. They would call for him, and knock repeatedly, but got no
answer. Not even a telling off. He did not acknowledge them at all.
Once, the boy had gone alone to his door. He knocked quietly, and got no
answer, as expected, but for some reason, the boy did not leave. He found himself
placing a hand on the doorknob. Ever so quietly, he turned it. The door opened the
tiniest sliver, and through it, the boy could see the guardian. He was sitting on a small,
stiff wooden chair, his head buried in his hands. He did not move. It seemed as though
he had been sitting that way for a while. At the creaking sound of an opening door, he
stirred ever so slightly. He slowly lifted his head, and faced the doorway. He was
shaking. His eyes stared directly where the boy was standing, half hidden by the door.
The boy gasped with fear, and slammed the door shut. He raced to his own room,
slammed the door shut, and stayed there until the bird came to get him.
They didn't see the guardian again for weeks. They didn't dare go near the door. Seeing
him, standing in the kitchen, rendered them speechless. They watched as the guardian
make his way towards them. The bird's eyes became hardened.
"Did we wake you up?" The boy asked.
The guardian shook his head.
"I wasn't sleeping."
A silence fell upon the three.
"So what made you come out?"
The bird's voice was cold, and the boy knew that he had been angered and frightened
by the guardian's disappearance. He watched the guardian intently, to see how he
would react to the loaded question. The guardian shook his head. His long, red beard
shook slightly. "I wanted to make sure you two weren't killing each other." With that, he
left again, leaving the bird and the boy with a hollow feeling of dread. Any hope that the
boy had had of the guardian coming back to life was gone. Their parent had confirmed
their greatest fear. They were done. There was nothing left. They were utterly alone.