It had been five days. Five days since he had watched them bleed; since he had reached for the fragile beating of a human heart and felt only the coppery heat of blood. Five days since the police dragged them away.
And here he was, standing in the rain. The pearls clenched in his hand were a promise; a pearly whiteness tinted crimson promise he made watching them die. And nothing would stop the winged creature pounding in his chest to get out.
Not even the parents he had died for.
Dick stood in the rain, not caring or feeling. Only pain, hurt, and longing for what was no longer his; the warmth that came with feeling loved and cared for. He hadn't felt the warmth of his parents for a week, but it felt like an eternity. The boy would never see them again.
He had reached for them as they fell, but they were too far away. Unreachable. And the boy thought that his heart was now unreachable, but in a different way.
Away, drifting on the wind. A heart waiting for purpose and vengeance.
And only when the purpose was found would he let himself cry.