Seven

Nurture

Cloak floated, restlessly, thru the Sanctum, drawn relentlessly toward the Relic Room, as if the Gyve still had some invisible hold on it.

The Room held the warm glow of late afternoon, gold rays sparkling in from the giant round window that overlooked the assortment of Relics.

Cloak headed straight for the case holding the Gyve, did a careful inspection of the lock, the lights, the glass.

As it did, every time it came in.

Even tho it came in, several times a day.

Perhaps the word to be used was paranoid.

It realized its' Chosen was concerned for it, but it didn't have any way to help him understand exactly how its' experience had affected it.

It hated that it couldn't stay away.

Not even music seemed able banish the memories.

When it heard the tiny, scrabbling scuffle, it jerked around, very nearly in a panic.

Surveyed the room, collar swiveling like radar.

The sound came, again, from up close alongside the round window.

Cautiously, it floated closer, every fiber bristling, alert.

Sunlight bathed the floor, except for a small, shadowed patch off to the right.

Again, the scuffle, and it froze, pinpointed the location, then dove toward it, ready to attack, make a defense of the Room, if necessary.

Stopped, confused.

A small, furry shape rustled on the floor, a faint, high pitched squeak.

Cloak snapped away, then slowly moved closer, swirling down so its' collar was close enough to identify the tiny intruder.

A bat.

Too small to be out alone.

It gave another weak squeak, flopped, and it was obvious to Cloak the baby was in distress.

Carefully, Cloak nudged an edge of its hem close, urging the creature to climb on.

It did, and the feel of its' tiny claws gripping tightly gave Cloak a shiver.

It trusted Cloak.

Cradling it, Cloak raced off, searching for its' Chosen.

Stephen was just gathering up some towels, getting ready to head to the shower as Cloak burst into the room.

'There you are! Just getting ready to go to Doctor Palmers…'

He stopped, confused, realizing Cloak had something cupped carefully in its hem.

Brow crumpled, he asked,

'What is it?'

Cloak started toward its' Chosen, then stopped.

Realizing it didn't know if Stephen might not exactly care for bats.

The baby squiggled, gave another weak peep, and Stephen heard it.

Tossing the towels on the bed, he went over, gestured that Cloak show him what it had, said,

'Let me see.'

After a brief hesitation, Cloak uncovered the small life, clutched so carefully in its' folds.

'A little brown Myotis,' Stephen observed , examining the tiny creature.

Clearly not afraid of bats.

He gently stroked the little bat, and it wriggled, feebly, its squeak faded, but its' minuscule claws gripped tightly to Cloak.

Stephen shook his head, expression grim.

'Where did you find this? The Relic Room?'

Cloak bobbed, affirmative, and Stephen commented,

'Not surprising. I've noticed a colony in the attic. Was it alone?'

Another bob.

'I think it lost its' Mother. It should still be nursing.'

With a scowl, he warned ,

'I'm afraid it will die. It's too young to fly, feed on its own.'

Cloak recoiled in horror, cupping the baby carefully, shaking its' collar NO.

Then, plaintively, extended the little bat toward its' Chosen, a plea for help.

There as no way Stephen could deny his comrade. He stood, hands on hips, thinking.

Finally, decided,

'We might be able to feed it goats' milk and honey until its' a little older. Probably would only need to be a couple days.'

Cloak responded with an energetic nod, pulling a smile to Stephen's face.

'Alright, I'll have to go out for it.'

Checked his phone, made a face at the time.

Obviously, he was concerned about his date with Christine.

After another look at his crimson companion, looking so anxious, he sighed, dialed Christine.

'Hey, I've got kind of a family emergency here….no, no, I'm fine….it's kind of hard to explain…could I just come get you, bring you here? I might need a little help…..Great! I'll come by around eight? Perfect. See you then.'

Cloak floated over by the speaker, tapped it on, then hovered there, gently cradling its' small charge, swaying to the music.

Bemused by his companions' actions, Stephen just shook his head, and headed off to buy supplies to feed a baby bat.

Cloak waited, patiently, holding its' small charge, as its' Chosen carefully warmed the goats' milk and honey mixture, checking the temperature against his wrist.

Sitting on a barstool in the kitchen, Christine took a sip of her wine, an odd twist on her face.

Stephen glanced her way, gave a mischievous grin,

'What?'

She just shook her head, admitted, with a smile,

'I have to say this is a first for me….wine, cheese, and bats.

'Oh, and, an animated cape.'

'Cloak,' Stephen corrected, sharply, instantly regretting his tone, but Christine didn't seem to mind.

'A cape actually falls above the knee,' he explained, awkwardly, and Christine just shook her head, chuckled,

'Now I know.'

Stephen brought the mixture to the counter, and Cloak floated over, unwrapping the baby.

Stephen filled a dropper, attempted to get it to the tiny mouth, but quickly grew frustrated. The shake of his hands simply wouldn't allow him to hold the dropper steady enough for the baby to lick the formula.

After watching a minute, Christine couldn't take it any more.

Setting down her glass, she came to her feet, asked,

'May I?' as she came over.

Cloak surprised them both by backing away from her, pulling an irritated scowl from Stephen.

'Christine can help,' he chided, but Christine shook her head, sighed,

'No, really, I understand.'

With a weirded out grimace, she looked at Cloak, apologized,

'I…I'm sorry…about the hallway. I mean, what happened.'

Stephens mouth dropped open, slightly, and both he and Cloak stared.

Christine shook her head, eyes closed, admitted,

'I have absolutely no idea what to think, about all this.

But, I'm doing my best to figure it out.'

After a moment of awkward silence, Stephen cleared his throat, said,

'Well, I'm afraid I must apologize, myself. I have been very rude.

'An introduction is long overdue.

'Christine, this is Cloak.

'Cloak, Doctor Christine Palmer.'

Cloak faced Christine, unmoving, and Christine offered a confused smile.

It gave a small tilt of its collar, then, almost hesitantly, came closer.

Stephen handed over the feeding supplies.

Cloak extended its' folds, and Christine leaned over the little creature.

Under her steady, patient hand, the baby eagerly licked the proffered meal.

'See?' she murmured, quietly, as Cloak leaned close, observing.

When she refilled the dropper, Cloak pointedly indicated its' desire to try.

Christine glanced at Stephen, who shrugged, so she handed the dropper over to Cloak.

Carefully, Cloak mimicked Christine's every gesture, proving its' crimson folds were remarkably dexterous.

After another dropper full, the baby was obviously satisfied. Curled contentedly against its' guardian, it fell asleep.

Cloak wrapped it, gently, then offered Christine a nod of its' collar.

Christine couldn't help but smile.

Stephen couldn't help but laugh.

Twilight had fallen, and night was close on its heels.

Stephen stood on the roof of the Sanctum, Cloak alongside, holding its' small charge. Christine, uncertain as to where she actually fit in, here, waited several steps behind them.

They could hear the high pitched squeaks as the colony of bats which lived in the attic began to stir, head out into the darkness, a swirl of organized chaos.

Clinging tightly to Cloaks' gentle grasp, the baby heard the sound, excitedly peeped, flapped its' wings.

Stephen gave his comrade a gentle smile, and a nod, and Cloak lifted its' folds, allowing the small creature the freedom to join its' kind.

Within seconds, it had found its' wings, and fluttered off, into the night, folding in to the dark swirl.

Stephen watched, silently, admiring the ballet of their flight as it scattered across the sky.

After a moment, Cloak settled onto his shoulders, a melancholy ruffle.

Stephen consoled, softly,

'You did a wonderful job. I've been worried about you, my friend.'

Cloak pulled its' collar close, brushed its' Chosens' cheeks, a reassuring thanks.

Christine edged up alongside the inseparable duo, offering a smile.

With a sad smile of his own, Stephen explained,

'It seems it's been a long time, since I've been able to nurture, instead of fight.'

After a long pause, he added, grimly,

'I'm afraid our battles may just be beginning.'

He fell silent, his expression faded into contemplation.

Christine slipped her hand into his, pulling a surprised glance, a renewed smile.

He gripped her hand, tightly, and she shifted closer.

'What is this, Stephen?' she asked, looking between him, and Cloak. He wasn't exactly sure what she meant.

But Cloak understood.

Hesitantly, it lifted its' edge, away from Stephens' shoulder, around Christine, and pulled her close to its' Chosen.

Wrapping them both in its' protective scarlet folds.

At that, Stephen chuckled, replied,

'This is my family.'

Christine smiled, laid her head on Stephens shoulder, commented, wryly,

'A dysfunctional one.'

'No,' Stephen corrected, freeing his hand, to wrap an arm around her shoulders,

'It's perfect.'