Chapter Nine:

Hazel's POV

As I was beginning to start replacing the feathers, the Doctor came in the room, "Where's Rory?" I asked immediately, before he could say — or do — anything, "His scent's fading; he's not on the TARDIS, so where is he?"

The Doctor sighed, "He was taken."

"By what?"

"By the crack in Amelia's bedroom wall," he answered, sitting down in one of the chairs, rubbing his forehead stressfully. "And the worst part is that she doesn't remember him, at all. So you can't tell her, she has to find out on her own."

"Oh..." Was all I said and went back to my work. I saw the Doctor look up.

"What are you doing over there?" He asked curiously, coming my way. On the table before me was each and every feather laid out in front of me, a knife, a thick towel, and a empty, clean jar. I took the knife and slowly slid it down my arm, and bled into the jar.

The Doctor's jaw dropped, "What the—Hazel! What did I say about knives?!" He ran over, trying to stop me but I swatted him away.

"Stop it," I hushed him, irritably. He pressed his lips into a thin line, but stepped back and watched silently. After it was half filled and my cut was already almost closed, I stopped. Then, I picked up a feather, dipping the end into the jar. I slowly and carefully stuck it back into my wing. I quickly stuffed the towel into my mouth and pushed it in securely, biting down on the towel.

Once it was done, I sighed and began to do another one, "Did that hurt?" He asked, concernly.

"A bit, yeah," I laughed. "A bunch of nerves in there. But, it's not as bad as getting them plucked, though."

"You've had your feather plucked?" He frowned, as I placed another in and biting down on the towel before answering him.

"Yeah, a few times," I sighed. "One time it was half my flight feathers... Then, there was a few tertials that were... Taken..." I cleared my throat and began another one.

The Doctor noticed my silence and moved to another question. "What's the Flock?" I dropped my feather, freezing completely still. He seemed to take particular interest in my reaction, "Hazel? What's the Flock?"

"... How'd you hear about that?" I said, my voice low, in almost a threatening tone.

"When they gave you the tranquilizer a second time, you kept saying, 'I need to find the Flock'. Are they your siblings or something?"

"The Flock is nobody," I said in a cold tone, picking up the feather and pressed it into the bone, not bothering with the towel. "It's nothing at all."

"Last time you said that, was after we were attacked by wolf-robots," he frowned, crossing his arms. "Who's the Flock?"

I didn't answer and began to put the last few feather back in, before turning to the other wing. "Hazel? What's the Flock?" Now his voice was lower and he was very serious, but I still said nothing.

After several minutes of nothing, I finally sighed, "You will not tell another soul this, got it?"

"I cross my hearts," he smiled goofily.

"I'm serious, Doctor," I glared at him, making his smile drop. "If I find out that you told anyone, or anything, this information, I will not hesitate to track you down and kill you."

He rose and eyebrow, "It's that serious?"

"Very."

"Okay, fine. I swear that I won't."

I looked at him, searching his body, for any signs of deceit, but he was clear. "The Flock is a group of six kids, led by a girl named 'Maximum Ride'. She's, well, supposed to save the world, I think."

"You think?"

"A lot had happened, okay?" I sighed, "When I was back in the School, everyone would talk about them all the time. About how amazing she was and how she was the first to escape the School, then she'd find other facilities and let others out. I... Admire her, I guess."

I ran a hand through my hair and continued, "When I finally got out, I made it my main mission to find her, and join the Flock. But, I can't do that if people tell other people and the other people kill them and I can't find them!"

After that, the Doctor was silent, and I began to work on the feathers in my other wing, which only needed a few, luckily. Once it was finished, I looked down at the remaining feathers, which there were a few of.

There must be some on the backside of my wings, I frowned to myself, wondering how I was going to get those back in. I might as well leave it, I guess. Those can grow themselves.

I folded my wing over my front and peered over it at it. Dabbing a finger into the jar o' blood, I rubbed it on any empty patches for it to heal, and did the same for my other ones.

"What are you going to do with the extras?" The Doctor asked curiously, making me turn to him.

"Hmm? Oh, I probably burn them or something," I shrugged. "Don't want to have anyone cloning me."

He chuckled, as if I had said a joke, but my face was perfectly serious. When he noticed I wasn't laughing, he blinked, "Wait, you're serious?"

"Uh, yeah," I nodded, rolling my shoulders, and flapping my wings, to get a bit of air through them. "I heard the School started cloning people a while back, mostly members of the Flock, since they were the most... Dangerous, I guess. Why? You want one?"

"Oh, no, I can't—" Before he could finish, I took one of the loose feathers and handed it to him.

"Keep it," I said, a smirk dancing my lips. "It's going to go to waste anyway."

He stared at the feather, then at me, "Thank you..." He said, tucking it into the front pocket of his brown tweed jacket. "Well, I'm pretty much done. I'm going to get changed and shower real quick, if you don't mind."

"Not all all," he smiled and turned on his heel, "I'll see you in the console room." And then, he exited the room.

I chuckled to myself and began to go and take a well deserved shower.

-•/-/-•/••••

"Do we really have to be here?" I asked the Doctor, once again, in a whisper-tone. I pulled my hoodie tighter over my head, taking note of every camera that we passed, yet trying to look as normal as possible at the same time.

I hardly listened to the older man talk about a man named Vincent Can Golf, or something because I was too busy trying to make sure I didn't touch anything to attract Erasers. "So this is one of the last paintings Van Gogh ever painted. Those final months of his life were probably the most astonishing artistic outpouring in history..." The presenter-guy drawled about some other vibrant painting as we entered another area.

"Thanks for bringing me," Amy thanked the Doctor, who smiled proudly at her. I kind of zoned out their talking, and went back to looking around for anyone who might look — or smell — like an Eraser. About twenty minutes later, they were — finally — ready to go.

"Thank god," I exhaled, as we headed for the exit of the building.

"What's got your feathers ruffled?" Amy mused at her little pun as we finally found the entrance.

I gave her a small glare, "I don't do good in... Public areas..." I said, trailing off a bit. "And museums are horrible, if I get my face on even one of these cameras, then they will know I'm here."

"Who's they?" Amy asked, not quite understanding.

"You know," I looked around for anyone in earshot, or listening in on our conversation. "... Erasers."

"Oh. Well, we're in Paris, right? Nothing can get you from all the way out here," she smirked but I didn't buy it.

"You'd be amazed by the amount of information you didn't know," I muttered as we walked down the street, coming up to the TARDIS.

"So, were going to...?" Amy trailed off, waiting for the Doctor to finish.

"June 1st, 1890," I answered, just before the Doctor could. He gave me an angry pout, but I rolled my eyes, "Oh, don't give me that, you were loud enough for me to hear you from Alaska."

He huffed, "Well, yes. We are going there..." He said and typed the date into the computer, and pulled the lever. After a few minutes of turbulence later, we finally landed, and I was more than ready to go.

"So, who is this Vincent Han Gold guy anyway?" I asked Amy, who gasped like I had said something blasphemous.

"It's Vincent Van Gogh, and he's only the greatest artist ever!" She gushed and went on and on about a man who's art is so good, that people a good centuries later, still loves it. "I can't wait to meet him!"

"Well, aren't you excessively happy over a dead guy," I chuckled as we exited the TARDIS, and into a dark, midnight alleyway.

The moonlight shown in front of us, making it a bit easily to see, but I could pretty much see clearly with my raptor vision anyway. "Right, so, here's the plan. We find Vincent and he leads us straight to the church and our nasty friend," the Doctor said walking out into the alley.

"Easy-peasy," Amy scoffed.

"Well, no. I suspect nothing will be easy with Mister Van Gogh. Now, he'll probably be in the local cafe. Sort of orange-y light, chairs and tables outside," he said, as we walked out of the alleyway.

I rose an eyebrow, "The guy at the art place said he committed suicide, right?" The Doctor nodded, "Well, then he's probably at a bar so something."

"Mister Van Gogh is a very, very famous artist," he rolled his eyes. "He would never be drinking at some pub."

"Okay, okay, whatever," I said, surrendering. "Can we just find the guy?"

"Like I was saying," he continued, "He'd probably be at a café, very vibrant."

"There's a café around the corner and down the road," I told them, making them both look at me. "I'm part bird. I can see vibrant lights easily." The both nodded and went the direction that I suggested.

When walked into the café and spotted the manager easily, since he was wearing a probably very expensive tailored suit. "Good evening," the Doctor greeted politely. "Does the name Vincent Van Gogh ring a bell?"

"Don't mention that man to me," the man groaned and disappeared into the back room.

We exchanged looks and found a waitress, holding a tray of drinks delicately. "'Cuse me Miss," I said to the lady, who turned around to me, a small smile on her face. "You wouldn't happen to know where Mister Vincent Van Gogh is, do you?" I asked sweetly.

She sighed at the name, "Unfortunately. He's drunk, he's mad and he never pays his bills."

"Good painter, though, eh?" The Doctor asked, making the woman scoff at the thought and go bust another table.

The sharp scent of paints pierce my nose and I turned to follow it. "Come on! Come on! One painting for one drink," A man across the café says. He has curly, wild red hair and a matching beard, and wore brownish-beige clothes. "That's not a bad deal."

"It wouldn't be a bad deal if the painting were any good," the manager from earlier insulted him. "I can't hang that up on my walls. It'd scare the customers half to death. It's bad enough having you in here in person, let alone looming over the customers day and night in a stupid hat. You pay money or you get out."

"I'll pay, if you like," the Doctor suggested, waltzing over.

The manager was taken back, as if he had never heard of someone offering to pay another man's drink. "What?"

"Well, if you like, I'll pay for the drink " he repeated, then a thoughtful expression fell on his face. "Or I'll pay for the painting and you can use the money to pay for the drink."

The man seemed to get suspicious now, "Exactly who are you?"

"Oh, I'm new in town," he said, as if it were the most obvious thing.

"Well, in that case, you don't know three things. One, I pay for my own drinks, thank you." The manager scoffed, and I got the idea that he usually doesn't pay for his drinks, ever. "Two, no one ever buys any of my paintings or they would be laughed out of town. So if you want to stay in town, I suggest you keep your cash to yourself. And three, your friend's cute, and the little one's adorable, but you should keep your big nose out of other people's business." He turned back to the manager, "Come on, just one more drink. I'll pay tomorrow."

"No."

I sighed, feeling very bored at the constant bickering, and tapped the manager's shoulder, making him turned to me. "How about you just get the poor man a drink? In fact, just bring a bottle of wine, and a few shots of whiskey, please," I said with a smile, my eyes a bright yellow.

His copper eyes fractioned for a half second, but he numbly nodded, "I–I'll come back with the drinks..." He said and stalked off.

A triumphant smirk found my face as I turned to the three others, "There. Problem solved," I grinned.

The Doctor looked at me, disapprovingly, "You didn't—"

"I so did."

"That's stealing!"

"Eh, using your resources."

"Mind controlling people isn't a resource," he scolded in a hushed tone at the word 'mind control'.

"Whatever," I rolled my eyes and headed inside the café, where I saw our drinks on the table. I nearly laughed at the two whiskey shot glasses, but sat down in front of them.

"That accent of yours," Vincent said to Amy, sitting across from us. "You from Holland like me?"

"Yes," the Doctor answered at the same time that Amy replied, "No."

They exchanged glances, "She means yes," he corrected her. "So, start again. Hello, I'm the Doctor, this is Hazel." I gave a small wave, down the two shots of whiskey easily. It burned my throat for a few seconds, but overall, I felt fine.

"I knew it!" Vincent exclaimed, making me raise an eyebrow, knew what?

"Sorry?"

"My brother's always sending doctors," the man said casually, as if he does this everyday. "But you won't be able to help."

"Oh, no, not that kind of doctor," The Doctor shook his head as I called the waitress over, asking for a few more shots. Vincent showed the Doctor one of his paintings. "That's incredible, don't you think, Amy? Hazel?"

"Absolutely. One of my favorites," she nodded convincingly.

"Yeah, what she said."

"One of my favorite whats?" Vincent asked skeptically. "You've never seen my work before."

Amy saw her mistake just at the waitress came back, which I smiled thankfully at her. "Ah yes. One of my favourite paintings that I've ever seen, generally," she corrected.

"Then you can't have seen many paintings, then," the man chuckled. "I know it's terrible. It's the best I can do. Your hair's orange." He turned to me and frowned, "Should your little friend here be drinking...?"

I snickered, "Oh yeah, I'm fine." I slung an arm around the Doctor's shoulder, since he was sitting next to me. "You're the best friend I ever had."

The Doctor gave me a worried look, "Hazel, you shouldn't even be drinking. You're stopping, no more for you."

"I am," I smiled, "I'm 'bout to pay the waitress now, anyway." I called the nice woman over, at which she came, and took out a wallet — the Doctor's wallet — and gave her a few of the old-looking, shiny coins, and she beamed at me.

I smirked at the Doctor, "There. Paid," I said, tossing his wallet back to him, and his eyes fractioned, realizing that I had played him.

"Oi!" He shouted, and I began to laugh and Amy fell into a giggling fit.

Vincent chuckled at me, "Your little friend is funny, I like her."

"I know," I grinned, and the Doctor rolled his eyes with a huff.

"Anyways," he drawled, trying to get back on topic. "Vincent, painted any churches recently? Any churchy plans? Are churches, chapels, religiousy stuff like that, something you'd like to get into? You know, fairly soon?"

"Well, there is one church I'm thinking of painting when the weather is right," he said, thoughtfully, and the Doctor beamed.

"That is very good news!"

Then, a woman ran in shouting, "She's been murdered! Help me!"

The four of us shot up, "That, on the other hand, isn't quite such good news," the Doctor frowned, getting out if his seat with me right behind him. "Come on, Amy, Hazel, Vincent!"

-/••-/•-•/-••/•/•-•

We found ourselves back in the street, outside of a crowd of people, with a man shouting, "She's been ripped to shreds!" There were a few dogs, barking wildly off to the side, that I didn't take interest in, and went to go to the crowd of people instead.

"Please, let me look. I'm a doctor," the Doctor said, and everyone moved for him to get through.

I looked down at the mangled, bloody body. It had several claw marks, similar to a wild animal's except much, much larger. It almost looked like something an Eraser would do, except we were in the 1800s, so there weren't any Erasers... I hope.

"Who is it?" A woman whispered beside me, while the Doctor kept muttering, "Oh no, no, no..."

"Is she dead?" Someone else whispered.

Then a woman, who looked slightly similar to the disfigured girl, "Away, all of you vultures. This is my daughter," she spat in anguish and anger. "Giselle. What monster could have done this? Get away from her!"

"Okay, okay," the Doctor complied, moving away.

The woman turned, meeting Vincent's eyes an rage sparked in them. "Get that madman out of here!" She screamed, picking up stones and throwing it at us as we left the street, "You bring this on us. Your madness! You!" We scrambled to escape into the alley, with the angry mob of people shouting and swearing behind us.

"Are you all right?" The Doctor asked once we were safe.

"Yes, I'm used to it," Vincent shrugged carelessly, but I noticed how tight his arms were pressed to his body. He wasn't fine, he probably hated it every time they did that.

I think the Doctor noticed it too, but he didn't say anything about it. Instead, he changed the subject, "Has anything like this murder happened here before?"

"Only a week ago. It's a terrible time," he answered.

"As I thought. As I thought," the Doctor nodded to himself. "Come on, we'd better get you home."

"Where are you staying tonight?" Vincent asked, nearly making me smile. He didn't even know us, but he was worried about us, that's sweet.

The Doctor smiled too, "Oh, you're very kind," he answered, politely denying his offer, as we made our way to his house.

As they talked, I kept my eyes focused on the sky, which was especially starry tonight. There was no light pollution unlike in London or in the U.S. so, it was really quite beautiful to look at. I wanted to get a closer look at them, but I think that Vincent would freak out if I just pulled my wings out of my back all of a sudden. Poor guy thinks he's crazy already, there's no need to scare him like that.

Finally, we made it to his house. Amy and I decided against going inside, because we'd rather look at the paintings hanging on the close lines to dry. "Watch out, that one's wet," he warned before going inside the house with the Doctor.

"Noted," I nodded to no-one in particular, and looked around the paintings, also looking at the sky as well.

"The stars are beautiful tonight," Amy sighed dreamily.

"They're better close up," I answered, smiling as well. "Wanna closer look?"

"I would love to, but I couldn't take heights like that," she laughed, making me nod understandingly.

"The best feeling, is when the wind is going through my feathers," I told her, glancing at one of the art pieces, which looked amazing. "It feels so free. Like nothing in the world can hold me down. It's awesome."

"When I was a little girl, I wished I had wings," she laughed. "So I could just... Fly away. I'd spend hours watching the birds in the sky instead of working on schoolwork."

"I wish I had the chance to go to school. I love learning things..."

Amy turned to me, "You never went to school?"

"No, not really. I taught myself to read and would read the pages of books I stole from the Whitecoats when I was bored. After I... Left, I would visit a library whenever I had the chance, when I wasn't being chased down by crazy Erasers, that is."

"You're a really smart kid," Amy complimented.

"Then—" I stiffened, my eyes fractioning. The hairs on the back of my head stood on ends, something was watching me. I strained my ears to hear heavy breathing near Amy. The bush on the opposite side of the curtain ruffled, as if it were hit.

Quickly, I tackled Amy to the ground, just as something jumped over our heads. I felt a invisible force hit me in the side, throwing me across the courtyard, and hitting my head on the wall painfully, destroying a stone statue in the process.

Amy screamed, the Doctor and Vincent ran out of the house. I looked up, my eyes bright yellow, spotting huge orangish-red animal standing in front of me.

I gasped and rolled over, just as it brought its hand down where I laid and squawked loudly. "Hazel!" The Doctor shouted, but I was too busy trying to find sharp rock, and slid my hand up my shirt, trying to cut off my bandages quickly, and taking off my jacket at the same time. I was very, very happy that I decided to put slits in my shirt before I left the TARDIS.

The animal squawked at me again, baring its beak and sharp teeth inside at me, its hand hit me again, and I moved away, and it just snagged on my leg, making it bleed.

At the scent of my blood, it focused in on me, and charge me again, only to be blocked by Vincent, who held a large pitchfork. "Run!" He shouted to me, and I quickly got up. He jabbed the animal with his pitchfork and it shouted back, still looking at me.

I felt the Doctor drag me back, "He's having a fit, are you okay?" He asked, but I looked at him like he was crazy.

"The hell—!? Don't you see that!?" I exclaimed, motioning to the large animal that Vincent was poking at. I scrambled to get up, shoving off my jacket and releasing my wings.

I went headfirst into the animal, making it topple over and Vincent stabbed it in the leg, making the cry in pain. The pitchfork stayed in for a several more seconds before falling out, and it ran away.

I breathed heavily, and went back to the ground. Vincent stared at me, "You–You have wings!?"

"Yeah," I said, breathlessly. I winced and glanced down to see blood falling out of my legs heavily. "I'm bleeding," I stated monotonously, I touched my head, which was hurting a bit, but otherwise fine. Surprisingly no blood.

The Doctor looked at me, "Wha—Hazel!" He shouted, quickly coming over, "Get some bandages!" Swiftly, he scooped me up, ignoring my shout in protest and ran me into the house.

Ten minutes later, I was sitting down with my leg sloppily wrapped up. "No, you can't do it like that, there's still blood coming out," the Doctor argued with Amy.

"Well, sorry I didn't exactly major in medical," she huffed, and I rolled my eyes, undoing the wrappings and redoing it correctly.

"I told you it wasn't that serious," I said, again.

"You were bleeding!" The Doctor protested.

"I was fine."

"Uh, explain to me again how you have wings and that I'm not going insane," Vincent said, a bit of uncertainty in his voice.

"Like I said earlier, it's a long story, but you're not insane and I do have wings," I answered tightening the bandage and standing up. "For starters, we could maybe start trying to find out what the hell that animal was, because I'm pretty sure it's something alien."

"You saw it, but none of us did," the Doctor frowned. "How?"

"It's probably a bird kid thing," I shrugged, but that didn't explain how Vincent could see it.

"Right. So he's invisible. What did he look like?" The Doctor asked.

"I'll show you," Vincent said and went to a painting with a vase of awfully pretty purple flowers on it, and begins to pain over it.

"Oh, no, no. No, no!" The Doctor shouted, moving to stop him.

"What?" Vincent asked, confused, but the damage was already done.

"It's just er, that was quite a good..." the Doctor answered with a disappointed sigh. "Oh, no. On you go."

He shrugged but began to paint over it anyway, I gave him a few comments from what I saw too. Finally he finished with a animal with long claws, a crest, and the down-pointed beak.

"Okay. Okay," the Doctor nodded, taking the picture. "Right. Amy, Hazel, make Mister Van Gogh comfortable. Don't let any invisible monsters in through the front door."

"And what are you going to do?" I asked skeptically.

"I'm gonna go find out what this beasty is," he answered with a grin.

"But it could be outside, waiting," Amy argued, agreeing with me.

"Well, don't worry. I'll risk it. What's the worst that can happen?"

"You could get torn into pieces by a monster you can't see," Amy deadpanned.

"She's right," I nodded. "I'm coming with you."

"What? No—"

"You can't see the thing, I can. If I go, you have less of a chance of looking like you were put through a paper shredder."

"Don't worry," he said. "I'll be back before you can say where's he got to now? Not that fast! But pretty fast. See you around." With that, he left, leaving Amy, Vincent, and I in the room.

Vincent yawned, "I don't know about you two women, but I'm gonna get some shut eye..." He mumbled, going up the stairs, "Wake me up if something happens."

I turned to Amy, "I'm gonna follow him. You stay here with Vincent."

"What? No, I'm coming with you!"

"If something happens to him, then you have to help," I explained. "I can cover by sky, it's dark out so no one will see me."

"And what am I supposed to do?" Any demanded, "Twiddle my thumbs?"

"You're going to protect the greatest artist in history. Tell him a bedtime story or something, I dunno."

"He's a grown man," she rolled her eyes. "I don't think he'll want to hear a bedtime story."

"Well, then, work something out," I shrugged, "I'm leaving." With that I left the room, unfurled my wings and escaped into the starry night sky.

•••-/•-/-•

I stayed above the building in the alley where the TARDIS was placed, watching as the Doctor went into the blue box, then coming out several minutes later with a weird device strapped around his person. He was mumbling to himself, something about 'Krafayis' whatever that was.

Then I noticed movement behind him. I quickly made my eyes yellow and watched the animal slowly stalk up on the Doctor. The Doctor kept moving at a mirror that was positioned to show it behind him, but made no movement to run or do anything.

What was he doing!? I thought to myself. I didn't know whether he was waiting or just being stupid.

Finally, he saw it and began to run. Taking this as a cue, I swooped down, taking him by the arms, "Ah!" He screamed, much like a little girl, might I add. "What are you doing!?"

"Saving your ass," I hissed back, looking to see the animal running frantically after us. I quickly rounded the corner to see Amy. I dropped the Doctor on the ground, it was only a few feet anyway, so he'll live.

"Wha—"

"Go, go, go!" I shouted, and they ran. The animal not far behind.

The Doctor was throwing down objects and other things to block it's path and slow it down, whilst shouting, "Take that! And that!" And, surprisingly, it worked because eventually, it stopped and turned the opposite way.

"It's gone," I announced, and the two of them slowed in their tracks as well, gasping hungrily for oxygen. "You know, you're not as heavy as you look, Doctor," I commented, making his ears turn pink.

"Well, I wasn't expecting for you to swoop down and pick me up like that," he huffed, straightening his bow-tie. "What are you two doing here? I thought I told you to stay with Vincent!"

"Sorry, I got bored," Amy shrugged. "As much as you admire his command of color and shape, it is hard to get fond of Vincent Van Gogh's snoring."

He turned to me, "And what's your excuse?"

"I was trying to make sure you didn't look like one of Jack the Ripper's victims," I rolled my eyes. "You're welcome."

"So what's the plan now?" Amy asked.

"Go to the TARDIS and go to tomorrow morning," the Doctor answered.

"What about Vincent? Someone's gotta stay behind and watch him," I asked. "How about you two go, and I'll keep watch."

"Leave you to stay up and wait for us? No, you're coming too, he'll be fine in the morning," the Doctor argued, but I still wasn't satisfied.

"And what if that animal—"

"It's called a Krafayis," the Doctor corrected.

"Okay, what if the 'Krafayis' comes back?" I argued. "We're going to leave him vulnerable? I'll stay and watch over him, okay. You two go back. It'll only take a minute."

"You sure?" Amy asked.

"Positive," I nodded. "I'll head back now. Be careful, okay?"

"We will," Amy smiled, "We come back."

"Yeah you better," I laughed. "Don't wanna be stuck in 1890. You two hurry up, before it come back. Oh, and bring me a coffee, too. See you tomorrow," I stretched my wings and took off into the sky, leaving the two behind.

•••-/••/-•/-•-•/•/-•/-

Once I got back to Vincent's house, I tucked away my wings and slowly entered the door. "Where's the others?" He asked, as soon as I walked in. Oh, he was awake.

"Sorry we had to go. They'll be back tomorrow morning," I answered, sitting on one of the stools.

"Oh, okay," he nodded. "And... What about you?"

"I volunteered to make sure the 'invisible beast' doesn't come back," I replied.

"Ah, thanks," he nodded. An awkward silence fell between us. I shifted uncomfortably in the stool, until Vincent finally said, "If you don't mind... Could I, maybe, see your wings...?"

"Hmm? Yeah, sure," I nodded unfurling my wings. I curled them over because the room was too small for them to go at my full length. I looked at my feathers with a frown and began to pick at them.

"What are you doing?" He asked curiously.

"It's called preening," I answered. "It's basically just cleaning feathers. Ugh, they're so dirty and messed up..."

"Dirty? They're beautiful!"

I chuckled, "I appreciate the compliment, but if you're looking at it from my angle, then you'd see all the dirty and messed up feathers..."

He laughed a little, "I still can't believe that you actually have wings..."

"I couldn't either, when I was first getting used to them..." I muttered, and he frowned at me.

"You weren't born with them?"

"Nah, it's a bit more complicated than that."

"How complicated?"

"A bunch of old guys trying to play god complicated..." I sighed, "Why don't you get some sleep? I'll still be here in the morning."

"What about you?"

"I offered to stay here," I shrugged.

"I can't let you just sit here."

"Yes you can," he frowned at me, and I sighed. "Okay, how about this: If you go to sleep, I'll let you paint my wings tomorrow."

His eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas, "Really!?"

"You have to sleep though. And I'm going to check on you too," I warned, making a small creep up on his bearded faced.

"Okay, I'll go," He said, turning to go upstairs. I smiled a bit and continued to preen my wings.

-•-/•-•/•-/••-•/•-/-•-/••/•••

At around nine o' clock, I heard a loud whooshing sound in the courtyard. I looked up from the table to see the TARDIS materializing. Once it finished, the Doctor and Amy stepped out, and entered the small house, "Hazel?"

"Hey," I greeted, wearily. I spotted a white cup with a familiar logo in the Doctor's hand.

"We stopped by America and found a 'Starbucks' which apparently sold coffee," the Doctor said, handing me the cup. "I'm not a coffee person, so here, it's black."

"Ah, you're such a blessing," I said, taking the coffee gratefully, and sipping the hot beverage.

"Where's Vincent?" Amy asked, and a second later, a loud snoring noise riveted through the small home. "Oh," Amy giggled.

"Don't wake him up," I warned, standing up and stretching my wings a bit, but not too much to knock something over.

"Why are your wings out?" Amy asked curiously.

"If the Krafayis attacked, I wanted to be ready," I shrugged, downing the rest of my coffee, ahh-ing at the burning sensation it left in my throat.

"I'm gonna go wake him up," the Doctor said, but Amy stopped him.

"No, not yet, I wanna get him a little surprise first," Amy said, and ran outside, heading in the direction of the field of sunflowers.

When she left, I yawned loudly, "Do you wanna go get some rest? You look awfully sleepy."

"I'm fine," I said, brushing it off. "Give me a few minutes for the caffeine to kick in."

"You've been up for several hours," the Doctor said, worryingly.

"I'll be fine. I went whole weeks only getting a half-hour of sleep. I'm sure pulling an all-nighter is no bigge."

"When did you have to go whole weeks without sleeping?" The Doctor asked. I didn't quite catch on to the concern shown in his voice.

"When I flew across the Pacific, which was seriously cold, actually, and much longer than I thought it would be."

He scrunched his eyebrows together, "You actually flew across the Pacific?"

"Yeah, how else did you expect me to get here?"

"I thought you hitched on a boat or something."

"I get seasick," I replied, and he chuckled, not expecting that answer. "What? What else do you expect when you put a bird on a boat?"

"Ahahah, sorry," he laughed. "I just didn't expect you to say that..."

"Whatever," I huffed, just as Amy entered the courtyard with armful of flowers. Being very curious of her actions, I walked outside to confront her on it, "What are you doing...?" I asked as she began to stuff them into vases and baskets and etc, and place them on the table.

"He is going to paint Sunflower's soon, and I wanna inspire him," she replied with a smile as she arranged the flowers intricately.

"You can't just give someone inspiration, you've gotta let them find it themselves," I explained, but she ignored me.

"Okay, I'm done," she said, and went popped inside for a second. "You can wake him now," she said, and the Doctor went upstairs, and I followed him.

Vincent was snoring loudly in the bed, but he looked very peaceful. It was actually quite nice to see him like this, considering he was supposed to kill himself in the future.

I guess happy moments don't last forever...

Pushing my depressing thoughts away, I watched, musingly as the Doctor shook Vincent Van Gogh awake, "Wake, wakey, rise and shine!" He said, as the man's eyes fluttered open. "Breakfast is served in the courtyard. Whoa! What a morning. Come on. And Amy's got a little surprise for you," he — quite literally — dragged Vincent out of bed and down the steps.

"Mornin'," he greeted me, his Scottish accent thick in his sleepy voice. He seemed to glance right over my wings, as if he didn't care.

"Morning," I said, replied, and he whipped his head around, staring right at my wings, his exhaustion disappearing from his face.

"You still have wings! It wasn't a dream!" He shouted gleefully.

I laughed, "Yep, you're not as insane as you think you are. C'mon, Amy has a surprise for you."

"Ah, the pretty Holland girl! I liked her!" He grinned, and sent down the steps and out the door — barefooted.

Amy was standing in front of the pots full of flowers, "I thought I'd brighten things up to thank you for saving us last night," Amy said with a smile, as Vincent walked over.

"Ah," was all he said, and Amy's smile dropped.

"I thought you might like, you know, possibly to perhaps paint them or something?" She suggested, "Might be a thought."

"Yes, well, they're not my favorite flower," he admitted, and Amy gave him a confused look.

"You don't like sunflowers?"

"No, it's not that I don't like them. I find them complex," he corrected. "Always somewhere between living and dying. Half-human as they turn to the sun. A little disgusting. But, you know, they are a challenge." He turned to me, "You promised me a chance to paint you and your beautiful wings of yours."

"If you still want to, you can," I shrugged, and he smiled.

"Before you do that," the Doctor cut in. "There's something I would like to show you."

We migrated back into the house and the Doctor pulled out a paper, the same one I saw him fiddling with last night. It looked exactly like the Krafayis, "That's him," Vincent nodded. "And the eyes, without mercy."

"This is a creature called the Krafayis," The Doctor explained. "They travel in space. They travel as a pack, scavenging across the universe. And sometimes one of them gets left behind. And because they are a brutal race, the others never come back. So, dotted all around the universe are individual, utterly merciless, utterly abandoned Krafayis. And what they do is, well, kill, until they're killed. Which they usually aren't. Because other creatures can't see them."

"But I can," Vincent said, a bit confusedly.

"Yes. And that's why we are in a unique position today, my friend, to end this reign of terror. So, feeling like painting the church today?"

"What about the monster?"

"Take my word for it. If you paint it, he will come."

"Okay," he nodded, "I'll get my things."

"In your own time. And I promise you, we'll be out of your hair by this time tomorrow," the Doctor promised as the man left the room. Then, he turned to us a serious expression on his face, "This is risky."

"Riskier than normal?" Amy asked, not quite understanding his words.

"Well, think about it. This is the middle of Vincent Van Gogh's greatest year of painting," the Doctor said. "If we're not careful, the net result of our pleasant little trip will be the brutal murder of the greatest artist who ever lived. Half the pictures on the wall of the Museé D'Orsay will disappear," he paused, gulping. "And it will be our fault."

•-••/•-/••-/•-•/•-

A half hour later, I was sitting in the courtyard with Amy. The Doctor went to check on Vincent. I heard yelling, and a minute later he came back out.

"What's wrong?" I asked him, he looked very worried.

"Vincent's throwing a fit," he sighed. "We should just leave him alone, and—"

"'Leave him alone'!? What!? Let me go talk to him," I insisted, trying to push past the Doctor, who blocked the door.

"Let him sort himself out, Hazel," the Doctor said. "He'll be fine in a few minutes."

"No, he won't," I growled. "He'll just push it down and act like everything's okay. I don't know about you, but I wore that look. Let me go see him, Doctor." My voice, and look was stern. I wasn't going to back down anytime soon, and he knew that.

He sighed, but moved, and I walked into the house, closing the door behind me. The first thing I heard was muffled crying coming from upstairs. I slowly walked up the steps, and into his room. "Vincent? Can we talk?"

"Leave me alone!" He shouted at me, but I didn't move.

"I know you're sad and angry—"

"What do you know!?" He hissed.

"One time, I was shot out of the sky and nearly fell to my death," I answered without hesitation, and he looked at me, his eyes red and puffy.

"... Really?"

I nodded, "You asked how I got these wings, it was because I was experimented on when I was younger. At one point, I broke out and wanted to go look for others like me. I was alone, for four whole years. During that time, I was attacked more times than I can count by wolf-men sent by the men who experimented on me, trying to bring me back. I had a few close calls, but they never got me," I moved to sit on the stool beside his bed.

"Then, one time, when I was flying, one of the wolf-men shot me several times straight through the wing. I didn't even hear or see him, but I knew that if I fell, I would get taken. So, I kept flying on a bloody wing that was pretty messed up, until finally, I fainted, while I was flying. I barely had enough time to save myself when I hit the ground. I landed on my wing, and the bone completely snapped. That–That was the worst possible pain I was ever put through. All I could do was lie on the ground, sobbing at my broken wing. I must've been out there for hours, now that I think about it. I thought I was going to die in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of the road. Until finally, a car came, and saw me on the ground." I let out a sigh of nostalgia and continued.

"Her name was Laura Dawner. She was a nurse in her second year of veterinary school — she was like an animal-doctor. She would work as a helper at a veterinary clinic for experience. I'm still surprised that she didn't call the ambulance when she saw me on the ground, half-dead. Instead she picked me up and took me to her work, the clinic. I remember that she held my alula's the entire time. Oh, that's this little part of my wing," I pointed to the side of my wing, where the alula's were located. "It's like a thumb, but for wings. Anyways, she kept telling me that I was going to be okay, even though I was pretty much dead already." A soft smile fell on my lips, and I chuckled to myself.

"I don't remember much of the operation," I admitted. "But, I was told that I nearly shattered my entire bone, and I wasn't supposed to live through that, but I did. And even after that, my chances of flying again were less than ten percent. Honestly, the part that scared me most was not being able to flying again. I didn't care if I died, surprisingly. I love my wings. It's apart of me. Yeah, I didn't exactly ask for them, but I still live with them I accepted the fact that I'm different and honestly would probably never be actually apart of society because I'm different. You know why? Because I get to have a experience that nobody else gets to. Of course, there's a helluva lotta downsides to it, but being able to feel the wind rushing through my wings, being able to see everything on the earth look so small and delicate, and being able to go up to height that most planes can't get to, that's an experience to die for and I wouldn't give it up for all the money and happiness in the world."

Once I finished, Vincent had long stopped crying and was tentatively listening to my speech. When he realized I stopped, he frowned, "But, what about Laura? And your wing?"

I looked down, "Twelve weeks and a lot of wing exercises later, I was able to fly again, but... One of the wolf-men found me. He held Laura and her boyfriend hostage. They said that if I didn't turn myself over, they'd kill them."

"... What'd you do?" He asked in a hushed tone.

I shot a forced smile at him, "That's not important. I'll see you outside, okay?" Then, I stiffly left the room, when I saw the Doctor standing beside the stairs, he had heard everything.

"Laura died, didn't she?" The Doctor asked immediately, and I looked away.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"I'm so sorry, Hazel..."

"Shut up," I muttered, not bothering to look at him.

"I am, really. Nobody should—"

"You don't understand, Doctor," I cut him off. "She had a whole life in front of her. She had a boyfriend she was going to marry. She even told me she was three-months pregnant. And then I got her killed. I got all three of them killed. You can say 'I'm sorry' all you want, Doctor, but that won't wipe their innocent blood off my hands." My voice choked up and I quickly wiped my eyes, making any tears in my eyes disappear and I left his house.

Eventually, Vincent was ready to go. The walk to the church was kind of depressing and awkward. I had my wings tucked safely in my shirt, so no passing strollers could see them. I also didn't speak a single word, while the they talked amongst themselves. I was too busy trying to get Laura, Darren, and her child out of my head.

I still remember her screams. She begged the Erasers not to kill her, and they laughed at her. They carved her stomach open with a knife and took out her baby, right in front of her eyes, with Darren watching too. Then, as if that wasn't enough, they shot the unborn baby.

I remember seeing blood everywhere. Laura was dead, Darren was a shot as soon as I entered, and the three Erasers were laughing like it was funny. When I saw Laura, I froze. I didn't know what to do. She was the first person to ever help me. She fixed my wing when I was supposed to die. That gave the Erasers a chance to jump me, but I didn't struggle. I had fantasies that I could've lived with Laura and Darren and their kid. I knew it wasn't ever going to work out but I never thought I'd come to this kind of conclusion.

I had to sing, in order to get out of there, and killed everyone else doing it.

I don't think I'd been so depressed in my life after that. I had been so ready to just give up, but I didn't want to let their deaths be in vain. If it hadn't been for them, then I wouldn't have been searching for the Flock today.

I felt someone tap my shoulder, and I turned around quickly, "Hey, what's up with you?" Amy asked. "You've been all grim and sad this whole—why are you crying?"

"I'm not crying," I denied instantly. "I'm fine. Are we almost there?"

"Yeah, it'll be another mile or so," Vincent answered.

"You were crying," Amy said, now in a softer, quieter, and more gentle tone. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Of course I'm okay," I replied. "I gonna go on ahead. I can see the church from here," I told the others and took off, not waiting for a reply.

They had caught up with me five minutes later. I was sitting on the ground, watching two birds circle each other in the sky. "You run fast," Vincent said, a bit winded.

"It's a bird kid thing," I answered as Vincent began to set up.

"And you'll be sure to tell me if you see any, you know, monsters," the Doctor said to the man, who nodded.

"Yes. While I may be mad, I'm not stupid," he said sarcastically, earning a small snicker from me.

"No. Quite. And, to be honest, I'm not sure about mad either. It seems to me depression is a very complex—" Vincent cut him off with a shush, and began to paint.

"Shush, I'm working," he told the brown-haired man.

The Doctor nodded rapidly, "Well, yes. Paint. Do painting! I remember watching Michelangelo painting the Sistine Chapel. Wow! What a whinger. I kept saying to him, 'look, if you're scared of heights, you shouldn't have taken the job then'."

"Shush," Amy shushed him.

"And Picasso," The Doctor continued. "What a ghastly old goat. I kept telling him, 'concentrate, Pablo. It's one eye, either side of the face'!"

"Quiet," Amy said again. I chuckled, and began to tone them out, listening to the comforting woodland sounds. My sleep deprivation seemed to catch up on my as I was no longer to hold my eyes open anymore and fell asleep.

-••/•-/•-/-•/•/•-•

"Help us!" Laura's tearful voice shouted through the phone. "Please, please help us!"

"I'm coming!" I told her, beating my wings as fast as I could, ignoring the pain I felt with every flap, as I went through the tons of rain that fell from the cloudy Louisiana sky. "Hang on!"

"You hear that," the gruff voice of the Eraser said, followed by a garbled laugh. "Little Tweety Bird is gonna save you!"

"Don't touch her!" I shouted through the phone, which only made the Eraser laugh harder.

"Please," the woman begged, "I'm pregnant. I'll give you anything! Money? Do you want money?"

"You'll give me anything?" Another one said in a teasing tone.

"Yes, we'll do anything," Darren agreed.

"Well, there is something I want..."

"What? What is it!?"

"I want... To see you bleed!" I heard someone get stabbed, and a scream of bloody murder. The phone shook in my hands, I nearly dropped it.

"No!" Darren cried, and fell into a sobbing fit. I heard more tearing and lashings until finally, the demented laughter of Erasers.

"Oh look! There really was a baby!" He laughed gleefuly. Then, I heard a gunshot, and more screaming. "No more baby~."

I threw the phone, not bothering to look at where it fell. My heart raced even faster as I neared the warehouse they were being kept in.

Once I got there, I tucked in my wings, diving through the glass ceiling. I wish I didn't have to see the sight I saw.

Laura's body was torn up. Her ivory skin was a sickly green. Her stomach wide open showing organs and blood. Her blue eyes dulled and rolled back into her head, and her blond hair held spots of her blood. On the ground was a separate, smaller blood stain, which I could only assume was her baby.

"Oh, look who decided to join us," the Erasers grinned, and shot Darren in the head, without any warning whatsoever. His blood spewed everywhere, and mostly on me.

I froze, staring at the two, dead people who were just laughing and talking with me hours earlier. N... No...

"Aw, did birdy lose her song?" The Erasers teased, pushing me into Laura's dead body, getting blood all over my shirt.

"Stop..." I muttered.

"What was that, birdy? You'll have to sing louder!" He laughed again.

"I said stop!" I screamed, making the metal barrels dent and my eyes burn yellow, yet heavy tears cascaded down my face. "You sick, fucking bastards! I hate you! All of you! I'm gonna kill every last one of you little shits!"

•/•-•/•-/•••/•/•-•/•••

I shot up, gasping for air, it took me a second to realized I was with the Doctor, Amy, and Vincent.

Everyone turned to me, "You okay, Hazel?" The Doctor asked, concerned. "Did you have a nightmare?"

I didn't answer for a few minutes. Then I stood up, "I'm gonna go take a walk," I announced and began to walk away, trying to get rid of the memory that was forever burned into my mind.

-•/••/-•/••••/-/-/•-/•/

An hour later, I came back, and them gone, and noises inside the church. "Damn it," I cursed, running into the church, my eyes yellow, again. I saw the Krafayis banging against a door, and I whistled. "Hey, hey, over here!" I said, drawing it away from the door and towards me. The Krafayis turned towards me, and cocked its head. I grinned, as it ran at me. I went across the room, jumping through the stained glass window and into the other room, with the Doctor, Amy, and Vincent.

"Hello," I greeted, just as the large animal came through as well.

"Why'd you come in here?!" The Doctor hissed, as Vincent drawer the animal towards itself.

"Nice to see you too," I muttered, turning to the animal, which was hiding behind a stone pillar. Vincent turned his wooden easel around on the pointy end and pointed it threateningly at the Krafayis.

The Krafayis was walking around the room, not giving a care in the world about the four of us. It seemed just be... Feeling the room, almost. "What's it up to now?" The Doctor asked.

"It's moving 'round the room," Vincent answered. "Feeling its way around."

"What?"

"It's like it's trapped," Vincent tried to explain. "It's moving round the edges of the room."

"I can't see a thing," Amy complained, and the Doctor smacked his forehead, as if he figured something out.

"I am really stupid," he told himself. "Oh, get a grip! This is not a moment to re-evaluate your self-esteem. No, I am really stupid, and I'm growing old. Why does it attack but never eat its victims? And why was it abandoned by its pack and left here to die? And why is it feeling its way helplessly around the walls of the room? It can't see. It's blind. Yes, and that explains why it has such perfect hearing!"

"Well, that would explain why it's staring at us and charging now," I said.

"Vincent. Vincent, what's happening?" The Doctor asked, frantically.

"It's charging now," Vincent shouted. "Get back. Get back!" Everyone went behind him as he held up the easel and it lodged itself in the Krafayis' chest.

The animal cried in pain, and fell to the ground, mortally wounded. I blinked, making my eyes normal again, to see the animal, lying there, gasping for breath.

I assumed everyone could see it too, because the Doctor ran to the animal's side. "He wasn't without mercy at all. He was without sight," Vincent said, soberly, staring helplessly at the poor animal that was writhing in pain. "I didn't mean that to happen. I only meant to wound it, I never meant to—"

"He's trying to say something," the Doctor said, leaning over the animal.

"What is it?" Vincent asked, hesitantly.

"I'm having trouble making it out, but I think he's saying, I'm afraid," the Doctor paused. "I'm afraid. There, there. Shush, shush. It's okay, it's okay. You'll be fine. Shush." The Krafayis cawed again, but it was much weaker, and his eyes slowly closed shut.

"He was frightened, and he lashed out," Vincent said in a depressing tone. "Like humans who lash out when they're frightened. Like the villagers who scream at me. Like the children who throw stones at me."

"Sometimes winning... winning is no fun at all," the Doctor answered.

•-/••/-•/-•/••/-•/-•

"Are you done yet?" I asked impatiently, and Vincent chuckled.

"Almost! Give me a few seconds..." He replied, dabbing at his board a few more times. "Done!" He grinned and I dropped my wings, going over to the painting.

It was very realistic. My dark skin seemed to shine in the last rays of the sunset in the background. My hair delicately flowing over my shoulders, curling slightly, and my wings at their full length. My brown-and-black feathers glimmered like a fish's scales and the detail was extraordinary. Every single feather stuck out, and some tilted at adjacent angles, others straight and shining proudly. My face was turned to the side, only showing about 3/4ths of it, as if I were looking at the sunset in the background. I wore my blue tee-shirt and jeans, identical to the ones I had on now, and even those showed very fold and crease!

"This is amazing," I awed, "No, amazing would be an understatement. This is spectacular. Extraordinary. Epic!"

"Why, thank you," he smiled. "You may have it, if you like."

"No, you keep it," I shook my head. "Think of it as a way to make sure you didn't just dream this all up." He laughed, and gave me a nod, making me smile.

The Doctor looked over his shoulder, as Amy did mine's. "What do you want to call it?" He asked, curiously.

"I think I'm going to call it... 'Winged'..." He said with a nod.

"That sounds fantastic," I grinned.

As Vincent packed away his supplies, the sun began to set and the stars began to rise. Once it was dark enough, we laid in an empty field, together, stargazing. "Hold my hand, Doctor," Vincent said, awing. "Try to see what I see. We are so lucky we are still alive to see this beautiful world. Look at the sky. It's not dark and black and without character. The black is in fact deep blue. And over there," he pointed in a different area, "Lighter blue. And blowing through the blueness and the blackness, the wind swirling through the air and then, shining, burning, bursting through, the stars. Can you see how they roar their light? Everywhere we look, the complex magic of nature blazes before our eyes."

"I've seen many things, my friend," the Doctor replied respectfully. "But you're right. Nothing quite as wonderful as the things you see."

"I will miss you terribly," he sighed, and a comfortable, peaceful silence fell, between us.

"Hey Vincent," I said, and he turned to me. "Do you wanna get a closer look?" He looked at, me, confused for several seconds, before laughing heartily,

"I appreciate the offer, but I wouldn't want to burden you with my weight," he replied.

"I'm much stronger than I look," I smiled, "I promise I won't drop you."

Vincent paused for a minute, thinking it over, then he nodded. I grinned standing up, and unfurling my wings, and helping him up too. "So, how's this gonna work?" He asked, rubbing his neck.

I wrapped my arms around his waist, "Just hold on." With a heavy flap to go, I jumped in the sky. Vincent shouted in surprise, holding onto my arms for dear life, but it didn't take us long to be sailing a little below the clouds. I didn't take him too high, in since he couldn't handle the air pressure like I could.

"Look," I said, with a small laugh, staring at the ground where the Doctor and Amy waved. "This is what I see."

"You were right," he gave a small laugh, "It is beautiful." I then flew him in a few circles, which he seemed to enjoy very much, before going back to the ground and setting him down softly.

"Thank you," he smiled at me gratefully. "That was amazing, although it was quite terrifying at first." I laughed and went to go rejoin the others.

Later, we stayed over at Vincent's house. Sleeping in sleeping back, provided by the TARDIS, and lying in the ground floor of Vincent's home. A few hours after everyone had fallen asleep, I was still up, staring at the ceiling.

I glanced over at Amy, who was lightly snoring next to me, and quietly slipped out of my bag, carefully and slowly left the small house, and laid on a bench in the courtyard, staring at the twinkling stars in the sky silently. My wings began to cramp a bit, so I let them out as well.

"You okay?" The Doctor's voice asked, standing behind me. I jumped, but sighed when I saw his face.

I chuckled, "Congrats, it takes a lot of skill to sneak up on me like that."

I moved so he could sit down beside me. "What are you doing out here?" He asked, curiously, "You should be sleeping."

"I'm keeping watch," I replied.

He looked at me, concerned, "The Krafayis is—"

"Dead? I know."

"Then why aren't you inside? It's getting chilly out."

"Nobody was keeping watch."

"Watch for what?"

"Anything."

We were silent for several minutes. "You know I wouldn't let anything get to you, right?"

I didn't answer immediately. I curled my legs you, resting them on the stone bench with me. "I don't... I don't feel... Comfortable sleeping without making sure someone is looking out for Erasers."

"There are no Erasers."

"I told myself that everytime I slept alone in the middle of nowhere," I muttered. "'There's no Erasers'. 'I'll be okay'." I took a shuddering breath, "It's hard to fly without a flock sometimes... There's no one there to make sure nothing happens to you or make sure you're okay."

"I'm here now," the Doctor soothed. "I'll make sure you won't be hurt."

I choked out a small laugh, "That's a nice thought, but you're a bit too late."

"Well, you know what they say. 'Better late than never'."

I was silent, absent-mindedly preening my wing. "Your wings are beautiful..." The Doctor murmured, trailing down to my brown-black wings.

"They're the worse things that happened to me... But at the same time, they're also the best..."

We were silent for a long time. I felt myself slowly dozing off, seeing I had only gotten a hour of sleep, but I kept my eyes opened. "You can sleep," the Doctor told me. "I'll keep watch..." I looked at him for a few seconds, and he smiled at me. So, I laid down against his shoulder, and went to sleep.

And, I was proud to say, that that had been the best sleep I had gotten in years.

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

Edited: 12/24/16