A/N: This chapter is unbetaed, just a warning. And I promise, next chapter we get to see Aerrow's reaction to Cyclonis being his caretaker. Also points to who ever knows the song I'm referencing in this chapter, and also who the mysterious person is that Aerrow is talking to.
Obvious disclaimer - do not own Storm Hawks.
~Does Anybody Know What We Are Looking For?~
For the longest while there had been pain. It moved like poison, spreading throughout his whole body. And for the longest while he knew he was dying. He could feel the token touch of Death. He had felt it so many times before, but this time, the cold brush wasn't fading. It was settling over him.
And then for a while, everything went away. It felt like he was dreaming (or was it memories?). A double-bladed sword that glowed blood red. Clear blue skies, like a crystal he once held. Cinnamon skin and amber eyes. A voice of silk that held an undercurrent of an older power. It was things he knew (thought he knew).
He was content to swim amongst the half-remembered things (he needed the rest, he was so tired, had been tired for years). He couldn't remember anything, where he was, what had happened to him (a rush of clarity and he almost knew but it was like trying to grab light – impossible). He wanted to stay amongst the dreams but he could feel something pulling at him, it was another half-remembered thing. (he had to get away, get away, get away.)
~Behind the Curtain~
"But I'm tired."
"That's not who you are."
"And who am I?"
"Someone the people need."
"Can't they find somebody else?"
"No, it has to be you."
"Who are you?"
"You know who."
"This is my dream and-"
"Not a dream, a crossroads."
"That doesn't explain who you are!"
"As snappy as always! Same hideous haircut, too."
"So I do know you."
"Yes, but you're not going to remember any of this. So, no point in my name."
"Then what's the point of this conversation?"
"None, really."
"You're infuriating!"
"You're opinion of me hasn't changed either."
"Why are you here?"
"Reminding you who you are. Like I said, you're at a crossroads. A decision has to be made."
"A decision about what?"
"About going back."
"I don't understand..."
"Aerrow, you have a heart of gold and a will of iron and clearly work out but you're not much equipped in the metaphysics department are you?"
"Huh?"
"Nevermind. You have two options: go back and do what you're destined to or you can stay here."
"What am I supposed to do?"
"You know, save the damsel, beat the bad guys. Typical token hero stuff."
"It's not that easy is it?"
"No. You're going to have to make some tough calls, make sacrifices, hurt the people you love. There's going to be death. You might not like the guy you have to become."
"And if I don't go back? If I stay here?"
"You can choose to exit stage left, permanently, but you're the lead, Aerrow. The show will go on, but it won't have the proper ending. It's going to go horribly wrong. People will die."
"It sounds like a lose/lose situation."
"No, because you'll save people, if you go back."
"At the cost of my own happiness?"
"Yes."
"We'll see."
~Outside the Dawn is Breaking~
For the longest while there was nothing. And then the pain came. It was a dull ache that made him forget (a flash of green and violet feathers) and then other things started to come back. The dream decayed into a feeble token of an impression.
He remembered being knighted. His family; Piper, Radarr, Finn, Junko, and Stork. He remembered Atmos. He remembered the Dark Ace and Cyclonia. A dark-haired empress. Years away from the skies he loved. Being captured, being miserable. Of feeling true hate.
He remembered rough walls, ugly looks, a pain in his side, and getting sick. Then all he could remember were voices. Voices that he could hear now, but he didn't understand . He wanted to know, but he couldn't, he felt so heavy all the time.
Sometimes the heaviness lifted away, making him feel like falling and he could catch a word. Or callused fingers checking his pulse. Or a soft touch trailed on his jawline.
I'd like to see the face of someone with such a gentle hand Aerrow thought before the heaviness dragged him back down.
And then the heaviness almost cleared away completely, hurling Aerrow into reality. He struggled to get his eyes open. To see.
It was a riot of colour. With the falling feeling still in his stomach, the world spun.
This is too much.
Amethyst eyes came into view and a cool hand on his cheek. The world stopped spinning, only to start sinking.
Aerrow struggled with the words, but he didn't have the strength.
I don't want to go back to sleep!
Amethyst eyes seemed to detect his distress. "Rest a little bit longer for me, Aerrow. You'll be fine after you sleep a little longer."
Promise? Aerrow silently asked as consciousness faded.
