HELLO MY LITTLE KITTENS! This is what happens when I read the graphic novel of "Maximum Ride" and listen to "Anthem of the Angels" at the same time. Not much to say about because I don't want to give anything away. Basically it'll be one of those long-ass fanfics that have like two or three long ass parts. This is dedicated to my sister (GermanypumpsItaly) for buying the "Maximum Ride" graphic novel ergo giving me the idea by default. I'd also like to give a shout out to my favorite Cenamus author and a recent friend of mine YamixYuugiLover, love ya and I hope the suggestions for "Love Bites" were helpful. Enjoy!
Part 1: First Taste of Freedom
He ran through the heavy rain as fast as he could, his boots sinking into the mud and leaving it in an instant. He felt the chill of the autumn rain on his face as he ran through the thick forest that seeped through his skin to his very bones. The wind sliced through the thin fabric of his now ripped grey t-shirt and dark pants, the only thing stopping him from shivering was his running. He wanted, no, needed to get away...to get away from those people and that horrible place that made him the way he was. He momentarily stopped by a large tree, doubling over and panting heavily as he pushed back his fiery red hair that had almost become flattened by the rain from his forehead. He heard the barking of dogs and began sprinting again, but he could tell that his footing was becoming sloppy. He tripped on a tree root and fell into the mud and rocks that littered the forest floor. He looked back for an instant and with his advanced eyes saw the red eyes of those hunting beasts through the darkness. He scrambled to his feet and ran as fast as he possibly could, but even with his strength and agility he would soon collapse from the pain and exhaustion. He ran through a bush and got several cuts on his face and exposed arms and skidded to a stop at a steep cliff that looked over more tree's and cliffs. He looked behind him panting when he heard the rustling of the bushes and knew exactly who, or more so what, it was. The horrible beasts revealed themselves from the thick bushes sending a shiver of fear down the man's spine as blood dripped from his multiple cuts. It was dark so you couldn't see all of the beast's features, but the shape of it gave the image of something very big with large muscles and glowing red eyes that could burn a hole into a man's soul. The man stepped back from fear and felt his heel brush the edge of the cliff. Well, it wasn't like he had much of a choice, it would be a cold day in hell when he would go back to that horrible place. He stepped forward a little and turned and ran jumping off the cliff and into the air. One of the beasts tried to grab him but to no avail. The man glided through the air, but he did not fall towards the far ground. He hated having to use them...use the things that those horrible people forced upon him, but he had no choice. His already trashed shirt ripped when the large, angle-like white wings, unfolded from his back and freed themselves from the confining fabric. They stretched out and the man flapped them by using his own will and flew away into the night, only glancing back once to see the other beats arrive and watch him fly away. He turned his gaze forward again, a few tears of relief falling from his eyes with two words ringing in his head.
I'm free...
He flew until the sun began peaking into the sky, the sunlight reflecting off of his snowy pale skin, a few scars being revealed as well. He knew that he would have to land soon because even someone like him needed rest. Luckily for him the rain had stopped so it was much easier to see. He had passed a few houses a ways back, but he refused to land there to get help. He needed to get more distance between himself and that place. He slowly descended and landed on the ground just outside of a small town. Even though he didn't trust humans he knew that he would need their materials to survive. He made his way to a more abandoned part of the town because lets face it, if he just walked through town the way he was now they would call him a freak and just turn him back over to those horrible people. This part of town looked like it had been some kind of ghetto that was recently shut down. There were a few homeless people wandering around here and there but he was able to avoid them easily. He found a large dumpster filled with cloths of all sizes, score. As he dug through all the garments he wondered how humans could throw away perfectly good cloths so easily. He silently shook his head at them and he found some garments that would fit him perfectly. Quickly he dropped his worm pants and slipped off his boots and changed into the cloths he found, a dark blue t-shirt, a black jacket made out of some tough material, regular blue jeans, a pair of tan working boots, and he had even found an old wristwatch that still worked. He looked at the watch and saw that the date read 'October 12, 2013' and it was a little past 7:00 in the morning. He would probably have no problem finding shelter seeing how all these buildings were abandoned, but he would probably have to go farther into town to find food. He wouldn't get a job though, he wouldn't be staying here for long anyways. He sighed and ran his hand through his hair that always seemed to stick up no matter what he did and scrubbed his face. He was exhausted but he knew that he needed to find food and water before he got some sleep. He smelled a fire and was about to walk in the direction that it was coming from before he realized something. He sighed and took off the shirt and jacket and ripped a hole in the back of them before putting them back on and walking away. The reason he did this was so that if he needed to make a quick escape his wings could free themselves through the holes so that it wouldn't rip the cloths. His cloths back at that place were styled much like that. He shook his head and rubbed his forehead, he really shouldn't be thinking of that place and those people right now, not after he just escaped. He turned a corner around a building and saw a bunch of homeless people huddled around a fire that was lit inside of a trash can. There was a small pot on the fire and it smelled like some kind of stew or soup.
"They're called hobos...right?"
The man thought staring at the homeless people. In that place he had been allowed to watch a few television programs just in case those people decided to see how he would react in an active environment (as they had called it). He questioned whether or not if it would be wise to go over and join them. He didn't trust humans in the least bit but if he didn't get food or water soon he would probably pass out, that and he was freezing. Plus it wasn't like these people would be able to turn him in. From what he's seen on television these people called 'hobos' had little to no money and mainly focused on where they would get their next meal and where they were going to sleep. As he was pondering one of the hobos, a slightly older man with long scraggly brown hair and a beard to match saw him and called to him, making him jump.
"Hey there stranger, you lost?"
The man looked over to the homeless man with wide eyes and didn't say anything. The homeless man gestured for him to come over, and he decided to oblige to the man's wishes. When he got over there he saw that there were men and women huddled together, sipping out of small bowls and conversing casually. He felt someone touch him and he looked over to the homeless man, who was now offering him a bowl of soup. He took it and nodded at the homeless man.
"Um...thank you." He said, awkwardly looking down into the food he was just offered.
The homeless man smiled at him. "Don't worry, it tastes a lot better than it looks."
He nodded and began slowly sipping at the food.
"I'm Mick, Mick Foley." The homeless man said and reached his hand out to him.
He just stared at the homeless man's, Mick's, hand. Mick let his hand fall back to his side and looked at him questioningly.
"You got a name, kid?"
He stared at Mick for a moment before looking back down into the now almost finished bowl of soup. "No...I don't think I ever had one. Hell, if I did I've long since forgotten it fella."
Mick looked at him closely before snapping his fingers and pointing at him. "You look like a Sheamus to me. Sheamus...yep that suits you. What do you think?"
He once again looked up at Mick, only this time a little shocked. He had never been given a name before, those people never let them give themselves or each other names in case it gave them a sense of individuality so they were always called by their numbers. He thought it over for a moment before nodding.
"Yeah...I guess I'm OK with it." The man, now named Sheamus said almost as if he was musing.
Mick happily nodded and patted Sheamus' shoulder, making the red head flinch a little. "Great, now you got a name! You won't have to worry about last name's in this part of town 'cause it don't really matter to us. In fact..." Mick gestured to the other homeless people around the fire. "...most of us choose to change our names as soon as we get used to this life. Mainly so that if anyone official asks for some ID they just think we're crazy and leave us alone. But it could also be seen as starting a fresh new life, ya know what I mean?"
Sheamus nodded. "Yeah...I guess you could say I'm doing the same for myself."
Mick nodded and stirred the soup in the pot a little more. "Yeah, don't worry I won't pry it outta ya. If you don't want to tell you don't have to. Are you gonna be staying here long?"
Sheamus thought for a moment before shaking his head. "No...I only plan on staying here for a few days at the most."
Mick nodded as if he understood. "Ah, so you're one of those guys that move around. We've had a few of those pass through here. But if you decided to stay longer I should warn you..." Mick lowered his voice and his tone became darker. "...we may not be the only one's who inhabit these parts, but we're sure as hell the most peaceful."
Sheamus looked at Mick, his face filled with confusion and concern. "What do ya mean by that?"
The mood around the fire seemed to get heavier and darker and the other homeless people stopped talking and huddled together closer.
Mick leaned closer to Sheamus. "Every other night or so this gang comes through here and throws what you and I might call 'parties', only on a much more dangerous scale. Their leader, called CM Punk, thinks he rules the world or something. If he see's any one of us out on the streets...well, we don't know what happens to them but we never see them again. I think he might be on some kind of weird drug but you didn't hear that from me. Now what they do at these 'parties' is beyond what I think is considered fun and I'm a little screwy in the head if you catch my drift. I won't give you the full description, but I've heard more than my fair share of screaming from young girls and boys."
When Mick finished he backed away from Sheamus and let that sink in for a little while. Sheamus had also heard plenty of screams in his life and the thought of having to hear anymore made a shiver go down his spine. He needed to get out of this town as fast as he could, but he knew that he had to spend at least one night if he wanted to catch up on sleep. There were plenty of buildings around here that he could hunker down in but which one's were safe he had no clue. Maybe Mick would know seeing how he's been here a while. But would it be wise to ask for a place to stay from a man he just met? Sure he sensed nothing harmful coming off of the man but his scenes had failed him before. Then again...Sheamus could easily kill him if he tried to capture him so he probably wouldn't be in too much danger. Once he finished his soup he placed the bowl next to the garbage can, where everyone else had left their bowls. Apparently Mick had been hosting this little eat together because all of the other homeless people left to possibly find some lost money or their next meal, but Mick stayed and gathered the pot and bowls before putting the fire out. As he did this Sheamus stood by and watched. He didn't know if he should help Mick at all. Mick put the bowls and pot in a sack (which was full of other things that were assumingly his) and slung it over his shoulder. He was about to walk away when he paused and looked at Sheamus and smiled warmly at him.
"From the looks of it you got no where to go." Mick said, his voice filled with empathy.
Sheamus flushed a little and looked down at his feet, but nodded. He heard Mick laugh a little before he felt a firm hand on his shoulder.
"Don't worry," Mick said, giving Sheamus' shoulder a firm squeeze. "...you must be new to this so you can hang around with me until you decide to leave."
Sheamus looked up at Mick shocked, only making Mick laugh more. No one had showed him this much kindness before, even his fellow 'patients' from that place hadn't been this kind. Although the ones that did were usually hauled away to who knows where. Mick gave Sheamus' shoulder another firm squeeze before walking away. When he was about five feet away he stopped and looked back at Sheamus.
"Well, you coming or what?" Mick said.
Sheamus blinked and shook his head and ran after Mick, pushing any thoughts of that place and those people out of his mind momentarily.
Sheamus had never felt such freedom before in his entire life. He spent the rest of the day with his apparent new friend Mick collecting things like bottles and cans to trade in for cash. Due to Sheamus' heightened scenes they were able to find quite a few. Mick went to a store of some sort to trade in the bottles and cans, but Sheamus was a little iffy about being around so many humans. Luckily for him Mick saw his discomfort and told Sheamus that he could wait outside in an alley if he wanted to. As Sheamus waited for Mick to return he was able to better absorb his surroundings. Apparently the town was smaller than it looked, but it still had it's gangs and thugs. The town he was currently in was named 'Halfmoon' and was smack-dab in between two larger cities. He wasn't able to catch the names of the two cities but he knew for sure that he wasn't from this region, possibly not even this country. Everyone around him, like Mick, sounded and talked differently than he did. He didn't exactly remember where he was from, but he knew that it started with an 'Ire' or something like that. He didn't know what country he was in because he wasn't going to ask random people off the street so that people wouldn't think that something fishy was going on with him. He smiled when he saw Mick come out of the store with bags of supplies and made his way over to the older man.
"Man Sheamus, with all the cans we found I was able to get fifty dollars! If you decide not to leave I could use you as a can tracker." Mick said.
Sheamus allowed himself to laugh a little. Sure he could stay but he would have to keep moving if he wanted to keep them of his tail. "Perhaps..." Sheamus looked at the sky and saw that it was almost night time.
Mick looked up at the sky as well and grunted. "We should get back to the ghetto before it gets dark."
Mick began walking in the direction of the ghetto quickly with Sheamus following not far behind. They both knew that if they didn't get back and find shelter soon there would be trouble. In fact Sheamus felt a chill go down his spine, something in his gut telling him that something bad was going to happen. He gulped a little and pushed the feeling away, hoping that if he hunkered down with Mick he wouldn't have to deal with whatever was to come and hoped that it wasn't going to happen to him. Call him cold, but he's felt enough pain in his life, he didn't need any more.
He couldn't believe this. He trudged through the muddy ground of the forest and felt the cold rain soak his cloths and wings. He held his shoulder in a hopeless effort to stop the bleeding of the gun wound. The damn bullet had nicked his shoulder and even got part of his wing too. He leaned against a tree huffing as he remembered how this came to be.
He and Mick had gotten back to the ghetto just as the sun set. Mick quickly led him to what looked like an old abandoned store house with large windows on each side. They climbed in through a not-well boarded window and Sheamus was met with a large empty room with stairs on the side. They both went up stairs to the second floor and Sheamus was shocked by the new sight. It looked like a regular house, except no heating, broken windows, and stuff that looked like it had been pulled out of the trash. Mick dropped the bags next to an old mattress with a bunch of worn blankets on it and plopped right down.
"Ah...home sweet home." Mick said as he sighed into the blankets, letting their softness relax him.
Sheamus sat down on another mattress similar to Mick's and looked around. The walls and floor looked exactly like the one's downstairs, only there were more rugs on the floor. There was a basket of cloths and a bunch of boxes filled with what looked like personal stuff. Mick sat up on his mattress and faced Sheamus.
"This has been my home for fifteen years. Not bad, ain't it?"
Sheamus looked around once more before shrugging. "It's not so bad."
Mick laughed and slapped his leg. "Damn right it isn't. People think that they need big houses with a bunch of shiny new things in order to have some self-worth but really all you need is some essentials to life and a few good memories, much like what I got here."
Sheamus grunted and nodded in agreement. It was true...it seemed that humans bought many frivolous things to make themselves feel better. He had heard those people talk about the subject many a time. Mick said that it would be best if they called it a day and they both laid down, Sheamus falling asleep as soon as his eyes cloths. Not soon after were they both awoken by a horrid scream that sent chills down Sheamus' spine. Sheamus jumped up and looked out one of the windows and saw three guys surrounding a girl who looked to be no older than fifteen right outside their building. Sheamus couldn't see their faces but he saw that one of the guys had a knife pressed to the girl's throat.
With Sheamus' advanced hearing he was able to hear the one with the knife say "Don't worry sweetheart, I'll make sure to wear the rubber but I can't say much about my buddies." which received a laugh out of the other guys.
Sheamus knew what those guys were going to do to her and felt himself become filled with rage. He knew what rape was, it had happened to a few of the other people like him in that place. It never happened to him but whenever he heard about it he became upset because he wasn't able to help them. But now he would be able to stop it from happening, but would it be the wisest thing to do? When one of the boys hit the girl causing her to cry out he didn't think twice about jumping out of the window, despite the protests from Mick. His boot landed directly on one of the guys' heads knocking him out cold and giving his buddies quite a fright. He yelled at the girl to run and she was out of there the moment she got the chance. The other two guys tried to chase after her but Sheamus grabbed them from the back of their shirts and made them fall square on their asses. They both got up and turned to Sheamus, their eyes filled with rage.
"WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?" One of the boys said.
Sheamus glared at them and held his ground. "What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you! Why would you even think about attacking a girl like that?"
"WE DON'T HAVE TO JUSTIFY OURSELVES TO GINGER TRASH LIKE YOU!" The other boy said. "YOU'LL BE SORRY THAT YOU GOT INVOLVED IN OUR BUSINESS!"
Sheamus smirked. "I bet I won't, fella."
Sheamus jumped when he hear a loud bang and felt something whiz by his head. One of the boys had taken out a gun and was aiming it at Sheamus, smirking. "You think this is a toy, idiot?"
Sheamus froze for a moment, wondering what he should do. He could probably take down these kids easily but all it would take is one bullet for that change. He could easily escape by flying away but if he revealed himself here those people would be able to find him. Plus once he was in the air that wouldn't mean that the guy wouldn't shoot him. When he heard the click of the gun his instincts took over and he ran for the woods. The two boys chased him and Sheamus tried to loose him but he ran into a drop-off cliff. He cursed in his head and hid behind a tree when he heard running feet behind him. The feet stopped near by him and he heard some murmuring that sounded a lot like arguing. Sheamus tried to think of a possible way of escape when he slipped, coming into view of the two boys. He cursed again and faced the boys ready to say something but was cut off when he heard a bang and felt a bullet slice through his shoulder.
Sheamus dropped to his knees with a slush as he became light headed. He had walked farther away from the ghetto so now he had no idea where he was. Hopefully his shoulder would be able to heal itself, but he needed to find shelter from this rain if he wanted to make it through the night. He saw some houses near by that were a bit nicer than the ghetto and decided to make his way toward them, thinking that he could possibly seek shelter in someone's shed or something like that. He folded his wings so that no one would see them and began trudging through the streets. No one was outside and it was late so practically every house was dark. He was about to give up hope when he heard the voice of a young girl.
"C'mon Sandy, you gotta go some time!"
Sheamus looked over and saw a girl who looked to be about fifteen with a pug on a leash underneath the safety of an umbrella. Wait...that girl looked awfully familiar. It was the girl Sheamus had saved earlier that night! Why was she over here? Shouldn't she be at the police station or something? Now that he got a better look at her she had long blonde hair and sparkling green eyes. She was dressed in regular jeans and a dark T-shirt that had some sort of cartoon character on it. Maybe she would be willing to help him? After all, he did save her from those boys so she kind of owed him one. Hesitantly, he made his way over to her. Once he figured that he was in ear shot he spoke up.
"Um...excuse me?" he said quietly.
The girl jumped and slowly turned to him, but relaxed when she saw him. "Oh you're that guy from earlier that saved me from those boys! I suppose I should thank you..." her eyes grew wide when she saw blood dripping down his arm. "OH MY GOD IS THAT BLOOD?"
Sheamus looked down at his arms and nodded weakly. The girl rushed over and removed his hand from the wound and gasped when she saw it. "He must have had a gun...do those bastards have any decency?" She began pulling him toward a house. "C'mon, I know someone who can help you."
At first Sheamus hesitated, but didn't have the strength to fight this girl.
"I can't take you back to my house or my parents would have a fit, but I know someone who would be willing to help you. He's a kinda sorta friend of mine." the girl said.
She brought him to a small house that still had one light on and she knocked frantically on the door. After a few moments the door opened revealing a well-built man with tan skin, soft blue eyes, and that looked to be about the same age as Sheamus. He was dressed in a light tank top and blue sweat pants as if he was getting ready for bed, Before he could even speak the girl cut him off.
"Mr. Cena you have to help this man he was shot when he saved me from some thugs on the other side of town!"
The man looked at her confused before looking at Sheamus, his eyes slowly becoming wide. Quickly, he ushered them both in and told the girl to get a first-aid kit. The man guided Sheamus to a comfy chair.
"Don't worry about the chair..." he said. He smiled at Sheamus. "My name's John, John Cena. The girl is Felicia, she visits me from time to time. Do you think you're up to telling me what happened?"
Sheamus opened his mouth to speak, but closed it once he found that he didn't have the strength to speak and weakly shook his head. John 'hmmed' for a moment before speaking again.
"Why didn't you got to the hospital?" John paused for a moment. "I'm guessing you don't want me to call you're family or the police, right?"
Sheamus weakly nodded.
John sighed as if he's heard that answer many times before. He looked over Sheamus' wound for a moment before standing upright once again. "Do you think you have the strength to walk?"
Sheamus shrugged and winced when he felt the bullet wound and tried to stand up but once he did the world spun and he sat right back down.
John sighed again. "I guess I'm gonna have to carry you. Do you mind?"
Sheamus shook his head, it wasn't like he had much of a say in the matter at hand.
Carefully, John wrapped his arms around Sheamus and picked him up, carrying him down the hall. Sheamus was surprised that John was able to pick him up, then again at first glance John looked like a pretty strong guy. He couldn't help but wonder what this man did for a living. He was brought into a place that vaguely looked like a bathroom, but it was much smaller than the ones Sheamus has ever been in. Gently John placed Sheamus on the edge of the tub. It was just then that John noticed that Felicia was standing at the door with the first aid kit blushing a little at the sight. John sighed and waved her over.
"From the looks of it the bullet only grazed you, so we won't have to do anything too drastic." John said. "Now I'm gonna need you to keep your head up until I'm able to see if you have any head damage. Now do you have any allergies?"
Sheamus half-heartedly glared at John, as if to say 'really?'. John chuckled a little and took out a pair of scissors. "Sorry...just trying to lighten the mood a little."
Sheamus rolled his eyes at John, really humans could be so weird. He felt John taking off his jacket and allowed that seeing how it might help John in treating the wound but jumped when he felt his shirt being grabbed and grabbed John's wrist. John froze and looked at Sheamus questioningly.
"I was just going to cut your shirt off so I could see if there's more damage." John said. He obviously saw the fright in Sheamus' eyes and a part of him wanted to know why, but he needed to perform the task at hand. "If I try to take it off normally we might hurt your head more...plus I need to see if it's infected."
Once again John tried to cut off Sheamus' shirt but this time Sheamus grabbed both of John's wrists, not letting them move at all.
"Damn this guy is strong." John thought when he felt the vice grip on his wrists. He didn't bother trying to break free because if he did he would just frighten this man even more.
He knew that there must have been a reason that Sheamus didn't want to take his shirt off. Maybe he had been abused when he was younger and didn't want people to see his scars? John had seen that case several times before, as a cop and an ex-cop. Slowly, he slipped his hand out of the vice grip and gently touched the side of Sheamus' face, making sure that he had no choice but to look him straight in the face.
"Hey...has someone hurt you? And I don't mean the bullet wound." John said.
Sheamus looked at him wide eyed for a few moments before nodding weakly. John sighed and slid hid hand down to Sheamus' uninjured shoulder. "Look, I don't care if you were raped or beaten, well I do care but it won't affect my judgment of you. Hell you could have gills for all I care, I just want to make sure your wound isn't infected. Now can I cut your shirt off?"
Sheamus gulped a little, but nodded. It wasn't like he had much to lose. So John slowly cut through the fabric of the shirt and let it fall to the floor. Sheamus closed his eyes possibly preparing for what would come next. After a few moments of silence he opened his eyes and saw John and Felicia staring at him, John much more composed than Felicia but still, they were staring. After a few more moments of uncomfortable silence John cleared his throat and began examining the wound.
"Well it looks like the bullet only nicked you, which is good and it isn't infected. And these..." John's eyes wandered to Sheamus' back. "What are...these things?"
His wings now visible Sheamus took the opportunity to spread them a little, making Felicia and John jump a little. "Um...they're wings." Sheamus looked up at John and Felicia a little worried. They obviously knew that they were wings, but Sheamus figured that he should explain further. "They're, um, my wings."
John and Felicia nodded slowly, still slightly awe-struck by the image before them.
Sheamus moved his wings more by moving them up a little. "They got hurt too..."
John nodded again and gently touched the feathers, making Sheamus flinch a little so he stopped the action. "Yeah...I figured as much. May I...?"
Sheamus nodded, understanding what John needed to do. John gently took the injured wing into his hands and observing the gash mark at the top. "It seems that the same thing happened with your wing, only a nick. So you should be alright."
Sheamus sighed in relief, but soon after felt a wave of panic fall over him. Now these people knew who he was or more so what he was. He could run if they tried to turn him in but in his weakened state he probably wouldn't get very far. He felt a warm hand against his should and looked over to it's owner, John, who was now kneeling down next to him smiling warmly at him.
"Don't worry, we won't hurt you. After all we kinda owe you one for saving Felicia." John said.
Normally Sheamus wouldn't have believed a word John had said, but there was something about this man that made Sheamus feel safe and even a little at peace, which was extremely rare for the winged man. So Sheamus nodded.
"Thanks...I appreciate it." he said.
John's smile grew and he reached for the first aid kit and began taking care of Sheamus' wound. "Oh...trying not to pry or anything but what's your name?"
Sheamus paused for a moment before answering. "Sheamus...just Sheamus."
Sheamus awoke the next morning feeling more rested than he's ever felt in his life. After John had finished taking care of Sheamus' wound Felicia thanked him and John once again before going home before her parents began to worry about her. Sheamus was unsure of what he was going to do but John handed him some of his cloths, a baggy blue T-shirt and grey shorts, and told him to take the bed.
"You're the guest," John had said, "...plus with that wound I don't think you would want to sleep on the couch."
Sheamus sat up and tried to rub the lingering sleep out of his eyes. He looked around the room with interest. It looked like a bedroom he would see on TV. It had a single bed, a dresser, a night stand with a single lamp on it along with a few books, and a few pictures hung up on the walls that Sheamus didn't bother to look at. The walls of the room were a comfortable grey and the rug was dark blue and felt soft under bare feet. All in all it was a hell of a lot nicer than any of the places Sheamus had stayed in. Sheamus felt his stomach grumble and decided that it was high time that he got up and possibly got some food. Sheamus pushed the sheets off of him and stepped out of the bed. His head felt better and so did his shoulder and wing. He had his wings folded under the shirt so that you couldn't see them because he felt that John probably wasn't used to them, plus it helped him feel the least bit normal and not so much like a freak. As he walked down the hall he smelled food and heard the sound of what could possibly be a TV coming from the other end of the house. He turned to what he assumed to be the kitchen and saw John standing over the stove cooking something wearing the same garments he had on last night. A small TV was on the shelf and was broadcasting some kind of sports game. John must have sensed his presence because as soon as Sheamus put a foot on the tile floor John turned towards him and smiled.
"Good morning sleeping beauty," he said winking, "...how'd you sleep last night?"
Sheamus blushed a little at what John had referred to him as but let it slide as he took a seat at the table in the middle of the kitchen. "Fine...I guess."
John nodded. "That's good...you like eggs?"
Sheamus started at John, unsure of how to respond. He assumed that John was asking if he liked to eat eggs but human behavior was pretty strange so it could mean a couple of things. John turned back to Sheamus and had to stop himself from laughing at the look he had on his face.
"I mean do you like to eat them?" John said.
Sheamus blinked before nodding and looking down at his hands. "I suppose."
John smiled and shook his head at Sheamus' antics. It was rather cute if he didn't say so himself. John scooped some food onto two plates and set one down in front of Sheamus before seating himself right across from the red head. Sheamus stared at the food for a moment before hesitantly picking up a utensil and began eating. John found Sheamus' behavior rather comical, but didn't say anything. He figured that Sheamus wasn't used to this kind of treatment due to something involving his past or personal life. John criticized the 'on duty cop voice' in his head but a part of him genuinely wanted to know why Sheamus was the way he was. First off, someone obviously did something to him or he probably wouldn't have those wings. John had seen some pretty messed up stuff as a cop but this probably topped it all. This all seemed like something out of a weird book.
"So..." John said, trying to create some kind of conversation. "...where are you from?"
Sheamus paused for a moment before continuing to eat. "I travel a lot."
John figured he would say that. Though it probably could be the the truth, John had never seen Sheamus around town before and he had lived here for quite a while. "You got a family?"
Another pause. "No."
"Do you have any where else you could stay?"
Sheamus looked up at John with a worried expression on his face. John figured it must have sounded like he was going to kick the poor guy out and hurried to fix it. "I'm just wondering...you can stay with me as long as you need. Besides I don't have much of a social life so the company would be pretty nice."
Sheamus raised an eyebrow at him. Sure Sheamus didn't know much about the outside world but he knew well enough that someone around John's age would have some kind of job.
"Don't you work anywhere?" Sheamus asked.
A pained looked came over John's face, making Sheamus regret his words. Sheamus was about to apologize but John raised his hand, beating him to it. "No...it's OK, you're gonna be staying here for quite a while so I might as well tell you. I used to be a cop."
"Used to be?"
John nodded. "Yeah...used to be. This town's pretty small so we don't have any terrorist threats but there are gangs, dangerous ones at that." John pulled down his shirt, revealing a scar that looked like it had been from a bullet over where his heart would be. "This little bugger is the reason I had to retire. Me and my partner, Randy, had been sent to patrol an old ghetto on the other side of town. But they forgot to mention that there had been a call near that area reporting screams and gun shots. We drove over there and heard screaming and gun shots coming from an alley, so we jumped out and ran to it. At the end of the alley was an open door. We both went in at the same time and found..."
John took in a pained breath and covered his face with his hand. "...we found a bunch of kids, each with a bullet in their head. If it weren't for my strong stomach and years of experience I probably would've thrown up right there. There was a trail of blood and I followed it, I told my partner to stay behind and call for help. The blood trail led me into some kind of basement and all on the walls were these...markings in blood. It looked like a hide out for some kind of satanic cult or something. I was about to turn around when I heard a bang and it all went black. I don't remember much, but Randy must have found me in time because next thing I knew I was staring at the ceiling of a hospital. The doctors told me that it was a miracle I had survived because that bullet grazed my heart or something. If I had been found any later I would've died. Now because of that wound if I exert my heart too much I'll have major complications that could lead to death."
John let that hang in the air so that Sheamus could fully absorb it. What happened to John was pretty fucked up but John still thought that whatever had happened to Sheamus had been worse. I mean...the dude has wings for Christ's sake!
"I...I'm sorry that happened to you." Sheamus said, looking back down at his hands.
John shook his head. "It's alright, the past is the past and you can't change it." John paused for a moment, wondering if it was best to ask Sheamus that lingering question in his mind. Eventually curiosity got the better of him. "What about you?"
Sheamus looked up at John, semi-confused.
"What about you're past? How did...this happen to you."
Now it was Sheamus' turn to have a pained look on his face. John was inwardly cursing himself for being so direct. It was obvious that the issue of Sheamus' wings would probably be a touchy subject but even a guy like John Cena could be an idiot sometimes. Sheamus closed his eyes and thought for a moment, digging through his mind to find the answer.
Sheamus sighed and opened his eyes, though they were filled with sadness. "I don't remember."
It was true, he didn't remember. He had been in that place for as long as he could remember. Whenever he asked about where he came from those people would just tell him that he was a test tube baby and that he never had any parents. They probably only said that so that he would have no hope in someone rescuing him but it did seem legit. Sheamus had no memory of loving parents or even a name, he had always been called by a number. Sometimes the other 'patients' whose cages were close enough to him would try to give each other a name but they would get caught and they would be punished. Sheamus swallowed the lump in his throat as he remembered that place and desperately tried to change the subject.
"So...how long are you going to let me stay?" Sheamus asked, hoping that his voice didn't crack.
John shrugged. "As long as you want...or need. In my opinion you shouldn't strain yourself for a while so I suggest that you stay for about a week."
"What if I choose to leave now?"
John sighed and stared into his coffee mug. "You're injury would just get worse. I'm assuming that you'd probably fly out of here but if you try to fly...bad things would happen."
Sheamus nodded, knowing exactly what John was implying. The thought of himself falling from thousands of feet in the air made him shiver. Not a very pleasant death, even if it isn't by the hands of those people. As much as he wanted to high tail it out of there he knew that if they caught him in this state he wouldn't stand a chance against those hunting beasts. He was brought out of his thoughts when John took their empty plates and started washing them in the sink.
"Now you don't have to get into details if you don't want to..." John said, "...but I have a feeling that you're running from something or someone. Must be the cop in me or something. Now I don't care who they are or what connections they have, if I have to hide you I will. I won't tell anyone that you're here unless they absolutely need to know. You won't have to worry about Felicia telling anyone either, if her parents found out what she had been doing lord knows what they would do."
John turned the water off and turned to face Sheamus fully. "You got that?"
Sheamus stared at John awe-struck for a minute or two before nodding. He honestly didn't think that any human would go to those kinds of measures to assure his safety. Then again there was something about John that seemed...different somehow. John smiled at Him and walked over and patted him on the shoulder.
"That's fantastic, now you're shirt is trashed but you seem to fit into mine so I'll lend you a few of mine. I put your pants in the washing machine so they should be done soon. So until then just chill." John walked away and was about to turn a corner when he paused and looked back at Sheamus with a small smirk on his face. "Oh and don't go into the bedroom for about five minutes so I can get dressed." He winked at Sheamus before disappearing around a corner humming a soft melody.
Sheamus looed at where John had been standing confused before running a hand through his hair and sighing. Man humans can be so weird.
AND THAT'S THE END OF PART 1! I TOLD YOU THAT IT WOULD BE LONG! AND NO I'M NOT TRYING TO RIP OFF MAXIMUN RIDE SOME OF THESE SCENES WERE INSPIRED BY IT THOUGH! So no hard feelings? Good. Reviews are love!
Love and yaoi
~ladyknights104