Chapter Text
A week ago, Tommy would say that his life was pretty normal, all things considered. Yeah, he was emancipated at age sixteen so that he didn't have to deal with shuffling around through any more foster homes, and he never finished high school, and he was living alone, but- really. That was all normal stuff.
He worked two jobs, anywhere from twelve to fourteen hour days, with only one consistent day off every week. He went grocery shopping every few days and usually got the cheapest available options, even if they made his stomach hurt after a while. He lived on his own, with only a couple of friends he had made online throughout the years. Normal adult things, for a normal almost-adult.
Until quite suddenly, he was waking up in the middle of the night to an excruciating pain in his back. He had been lucky, as he stumbled to the bathroom to find a mirror and figure out what the hell was going on. Apparently it had been a good decision that kept him from turning his bed into a mess, when the skin of his back was torn, and wings emerged.
Tommy had passed out from the pain then, and woke up, horrifyingly, in a puddle of his own blood.
At the very least, he wasn't bleeding anymore at that point. He endured the agony of water sliding down his back to take a shower, not daring to wash anything with soap and make the pain even worse. He'd called into work, and taken an entire week off for medical reasons, and no one questioned it when his voice sounded like it had been torn to shreds. He was pretty sure he had been screaming when the wings emerged, so it made sense.
He had stayed inside for that entire week, thankfully he had enough food to last him a while. For the first few days he was forced to go without shirts, his back too sensitive for him to even tug a blanket over himself. Those were the worst nights, because his apartment had shit insulation and it was cold as fuck outside, leaving him shivering with either cold or the agony of trying to stay warm under the blankets that he owned.
Eventually though, thankfully, he healed. It seemed to go pretty quickly too, faster than he would have expected for something as big as wings bursting from his back, but he wasn't about to complain about that.
No, what he was going to complain about was the fact that he started feeling fucking weird. There was a sense of anxiety crawling through his bones that he couldn't understand, something that had him throwing open his window, cold be damned, to drown out the feeling with the sound of the city outside. The sounds of life outside seemed to sooth the feeling, whatever it was, at least for a time. Tommy huddled into a blanket beside the window, feeling miserable as he tried to figure out what he was going to do with these new wings of his.
They were still tiny, covered in fluffy white down, not of much use for anything yet. Tommy didn't know shit about birds, really. He knew weird fun facts about penguins and he knew that peregrine falcons were the fastest animals in the world, but nothing very useful beyond that. Avians were rare, and there wasn't even much information online about them, and after an hour or two of scrolling through Google and finding the same few tidbits of information reiterated on fifty different sites, he finally gave up. He would just have to figure it out on his own, he supposed.
So, at the end of his week alone, he shoved his wings through holes that he cut in one of his lesser liked shirts and slipped a hoodie over that as well, hiding them well enough. He just had to get through work, and he'd be fine.
He had barely stepped behind the counter and clocked in when the bell at the door rang, and the sudden silence in the coffee shop made the tension skyrocket. Tommy stepped back from where the work aprons were hung to get a look at what was going on, before he too froze in place.
The sight of great, dark wings greeted him, an immediate giveaway to who the others might be. Siren, Blood God, and the Angel of Death.
What were they doing in a small coffee shop like this? Was life seriously just trying to fuck with him this much, presenting him with some of the worst villains in the city? Fuck, if he died here he was going to make it his mission to fight God in whatever afterlife he ended up in.
"Alright, ladies and gentlemen," the Angel spoke in a calm voice, smiling slightly under the dark veil he wore to cover his face. "If you'll all move along to the back of the shop, we'll finish up our business here quickly."
And despite his kind-sounding words, when people hesitated for a moment too long, the Angel waved a hand, and the Blood God grabbed the nearest person by the hair and started dragging them along. That got the others moving pretty quickly at that point, shuffling into the storage pantry under the villains' directions. A few people were already crying, but not Tommy - no, he found himself… oddly mesmerized by the Angel.
He couldn’t tear his eyes away from those dark wings, like living shadows that had settled against the man's back. The Angel of Death was an avian - damn, if Tommy's small wings hurt as bad as they did coming in, he hated to imagine what those monstrously sized wings had been like. But it also faintly reminded him of something, a fact that he had found on one of the less reputable looking sites during his search the other days.
Avian imprinting. Newly manifested avians would imprint on the first fellow avian they saw, and-
"Stay down, mate," the Angel crooned, and Tommy choked on whatever sound was trying to crawl up his throat. There was a knife pressed to the base of his neck, not hard enough to risk breaking skin but close enough to be a threat. "Keep these others from moving too, okay? We don't want to hurt anyone."
Tommy faintly nodded, leaning himself back against the wall with the others. He was sure that he looked like a fool, shaking, his pupils blown as he tracked every movement of the Angel.
His mind was screaming in joy, while his conscious brain was - well, just screaming.
Flock, flock, flock- was pitted against I might die here, please don’t let me die. It was a rather uncomfortable situation to find himself in.
But then the Angel stepped away, and the baby bird in him forced him forward to follow, even as Tommy stifled the noise that once again fought to leave his throat. The villain didn't particularly like that though, the Angel again stepping closer, this time the knife at his throat slightly digging into his skin, just shy of making him bleed.
"I thought I told you to stay down?"
"Sorry," Tommy gasped, staring up at the dark veil with wide, terrified eyes. "Please, just don't-"
The villain hummed, but this time a hand came up - fingers ending in sharp, black talons - and patted the teen's head. "Alright, mate. Just follow directions, and no one needs to get hurt."
So Tommy watched, and fought every instinct that told him to move forward and tuck himself into the curl of the villain's wings, as the Angel joined Siren and Blood God at the back wall of the shop. The three quietly talked amongst themselves, discussing whatever it is they might be doing, until finally the Blood God raised a hand and set it against the wall.
All of the hostages watched as red energy raced around Blood God's arm, out towards his palm, and seemed to simply deconstruct the wall in front of him. It literally took itself apart, crumbling brick by brick until a hole stood in the wall, big enough for all three villains to step through together.
With a glance behind them, Siren gave a quiet laugh and finally spoke, words dripping with power.
"Don't move or speak for the next ten minutes. Then walk out the front door and wait until the police come."
One by one, the people around Tommy froze up, until he felt his own body go terrifyingly still, barely able to breathe around the tension in his body. He watched as the villains disappeared through the hole in the wall, his instincts wailing at the loss of the Angel's wings. But they didn't come back, and there was no explanation of what their plan was.
~~~
The police eventually came around and interviewed everybody, Tommy included. Unfortunately he had to call out of his second job yet again by the time he was done there, and when he returned to his apartment the events of the day started to catch up to him.
He found himself crumpling to his knees, hands held over his mouth as he let out quiet, mortifyingly pathetic chirps. They sounded needy even to his own ears, calling for a flock that wasn't there in his tiny apartment. It was physically painful, trying to twist himself into a small enough curl that he could fill the empty void of loneliness that tried to swallow him up.
Tommy had always been fine on his own - he had never needed anyone else, he fought hard to make sure that he was self-sufficient and didn't need to rely on anyone. He filled the few aches of loneliness that he usually felt with interaction with his friends online, and it was fine. Now he felt the coldness of his apartment with devastating clarity, shivering on the floor just a few steps inside the door.
Not even the nest that he tried to make helped, too few soft things, not enough blankets or pillows to properly build it. He couldn’t make it feel quite right, even when he broke and decided to add all the shirts and pants he owned to the pile.
Eventually, he slumped into the sad nest and fell asleep with a sad warble leaking from his throat.
~~~
The stupidest thing, really, was that Tommy couldn't even really stop himself from doing this. It had been weeks now, barely getting by, scraping rock bottom as he lived through every day feeling like his heart had been pulled from his chest. He'd been trying hard to make sure that he kept up on all his payments despite the time he had missed when his wings manifested, but the stress of it almost became secondary to the hollowness that came with being alone.
He was just so lonely, a physical ache in his chest and desperately muffled chirps in his throat. It was more than just a want - whether he wanted to or not, he needed his flock - so now, here he was. Chasing villains through the city night after night, without so much as a plan for when it inevitably would go wrong.
Whenever he heard that the SBI gang was active, he was nearly up and out of his apartment, wings tucked beneath his jacket, before he could even think. It was his only chance to be even remotely close to the villains, the Angel that his instincts screamed for. The stupid baby bird in his brain was becoming harder to ignore, slowly but surely.
But even despite that, when he finally came face to face with the Angel, the baby bird wasn't enough to keep him from feeling the absolute terror of facing a villain.
The Angel stared at him, head tilted in that bird-like way of moving that he had. Tommy had to keep himself from mimicking it, clenching his jaw as he barely dared to breathe under the man's gaze.
"Hm. I thought I was imagining it at first, but no - you've been following us, haven't you, little one?" The Angel's voice seemed more curious than threatening, but Tommy knew better. Even as the villain reached out with a hand - the baby bird sang at that - he stepped back, away from such a deadly hand.
They stayed locked in place for a moment that seemed to drag on for ages, despite lasting only seconds. Tommy stood, fighting between logic and instinct, watching the Angel watch him - before he turned and ran.
The Angel didn’t follow.
~~~
Gradually, it got worse. Tommy didn't know how long an imprinting was supposed to last, but didn’t birds like, grow out of it eventually? He tried to look it up and see how long it's supposed to last for avians, but the information he found was as sketchy and scattered as his first round of searching.
At some point, he broke. After a long day at work, he came back to his apartment and laid in the sad, underwhelming nest that he made of his bed, and cried. Everything had simply been too much, too overwhelming. It hurt to be alone, but the Angel was terrifying, and who knew what he would do with a new avian that accidentally imprinted on him.
He managed to hold out for a few weeks before he broke and headed out to follow the villain again. This time he found the Angel at the top corner of an apartment building, standing, apparently waiting, and Tommy settled just out of sight below him. It eased something in him, his baby bird feeling better with his flock overhead, watching over him. Every once in a while he could hear the Angel's voice drift down to him, too far to hear words, but enough to hear the calm and soothing tone.
It was enough to have him closing his eyes, relaxing despite the shivers that ran through him because of the cold night.
Until, at least, it seemed like the villain finished whatever business he had been on in the area and dropped from the building, swooping away without a glance back in Tommy's direction. The boy watched the villain go with a sense of dejection, a frustrated chirp building behind his teeth before he stubbornly swallowed it back and stood up.
Coming out at night like this was stupid, honestly. It stole hours from what little rest he already got outside of work, and his coat wasn't nearly thick enough to effectively keep out the chill of winter. But the call of his flock wouldn't allow him to rest either way, and the emptiness of his apartment grated at his nerves in a way that made the cold preferable to being within those blank walls.
So caught up in his despair over being left by the Angel, he didn't notice anything amiss until snow crunched underfoot just behind him. Tommy, on instinct borne of one too many abusive foster homes, threw himself forward to avoid the grab that was aimed for the back of his jacket. Just in time, too, as he glanced back and came face to face with the Blood God.
Spitting out a curse, Tommy forced himself to move faster, dodging out of the way of the villain once again before taking off down the street. He had long legs, had always been known as a runner - for just a moment he hoped that maybe he could outrun the Blood God himself.
That hope didn't last long, thumping footsteps quickly gaining on him as the boy’s body flagged, too many skipped meals and nights without enough rest catching up to him. Tommy tried to dodge from the villain again, but unfortunately his worn-down shoes were no match for the heavy cleated boots of the Blood God when it came to gripping the wet snow under their feet. He slipped, scrambling, before the villain grabbed him and he found his face slamming against the wall of the nearest building.
Tommy was stunned, the impact and the pain smarting through his face leaving him winded for far too long of a moment, before he felt himself being shoved downwards and into a seat.
By the time he had shaken himself back to focus, he was in a car. His hands were still being restrained by the Blood God, forcing the boy to sit awkwardly, but as he turned his head to the driver's seat he found Siren staring at him from the rear view mirror.
"You sure you got the right one?" The third villain spoke, a cruel little smile playing at his lips.
"Yeah, I’m sure. Now drive."
And really, this was the moment where Tommy should have been kicking, screaming, trying to get out of the Blood God’s grip. He should have been trying to cover his ears and yelling over whatever commands that Siren tried to give him, but…
It had been weeks. Far too long since he had seen his flock - too long since he had really gotten close to the Angel like his stupid baby bird wanted. His instincts, despite how terrifying the situation should’ve been, made him almost relax in the Blood God’s hands, stay quiet and still, and Tommy hated it. But… he was also just so tired.
It had been weeks of precious little sleep, the constant void of something missing, stress and hunger and the growing twinge in his wings all piling up on him. And now, with the promise of seeing the Angel… he couldn’t even the will within himself to be scared. He was just exhausted, and in the warmth of the car he unexpectedly found his head tilting back against the seat, his eyes drooping.
He was actually pretty sure that his nose was bleeding, as the adrenaline wore off with the continuing crash of his energy. The pain in his face made it harder to ignore, some of the metallic, salty liquid running down his throat with his head tilted back which felt gross. Still, he couldn’t bother raising his head again to stop it.
Not until the Blood God pushed his head up a little, startling a little cough from Tommy, gurgling with the sudden shift in posture. But he cleared his throat, the villain giving a low hum before the car fell silent again.
It remained quiet, just the sound of tires on the road, until Tommy found his eyes blinking open as he was dragged out of the car. It wasn’t comfortable, and he twisted around - or tried to, the Blood God’s grip was still harsh around his wrists.
"Oi, dickhead- I can move on my own," he spat, apparently a tiny bit more energized after his micronap in the car.
The villain just huffed behind his mask. "I’m not letting you go, little stalker. Come on."
This time, Tommy put up a bit more resistance, pulling at Blood God’s grip. "Fuck off!"
It really didn’t seem to do much more than slightly inconvenience the man, as Siren stepped closer and shoved a bag over his head. He was suddenly blinded, and Tommy thrashed his head around with a shout as a rope was tightened around his neck. For a second he thought that he might be strangled, but it seemed like Siren only pulled enough to make sure the bag wouldn’t let in any light from the bottom.
Then he was being dragged along, even as he cursed and shouted and squirmed in the grip that held him steady. The Blood God didn’t even need two hands to keep him still.
He pulled Tommy a little closer, speaking next to his ear in a growl. "Stay quiet, kid, or you’ll only make it worse on yourself."
"Fuck you, bitch-" this time he was cut off with a blow to the head. He knew that it was barely more than a cuff around the ears, a warning, but it jolted him enough to make the pain in his face spike, and… well, for now, he went quiet.
He still struggled, of course, even if it wasn’t as hard as it had been, but by now the villain had proved himself more than capable of keeping the teen in place. They led him up flights of stairs, how many he couldn’t be certain, and when the bag was pulled off of his head he was in a plain white room with only a single door.
Tommy was then pushed into one of the two chairs in the room, as Siren pulled up the other.
Eyes flicking around, he very quickly came to the realization that this was probably some sort of fucking interrogation room. Or maybe a very plain torture chamber - there were some old blood splatters on the floor in one corner that made Tommy feel rather queasy. Maybe… maybe being so calm on the car ride here was more misguided than he had originally thought.
"So," Siren said conversationally. "I’m going to ask you some questions."
"Go fuck yourself," Tommy spat in return.
The villain’s grin widened under his mask, as his voice filled with an echo of power that wasn’t there before. "Until I tell you that you can stop, you’re going to answer our questions directly and truthfully."
Tommy couldn’t entirely feel the direction sink in, but - Siren’s power was less like mind control and more like an unwilling hypnosis. It was one thing that made him so terrifying, he could simply tell people to forget something, and he would have a walking sleeper agent at hand for weeks until the group made their move.
So he wasn’t sure if it had actually worked, until the villain spoke again.
"What is your full legal name?"
For a moment, Tommy felt like he could resist - there was a twitch of surprise on the villain’s face, before he blurted, "Thomas Danger Kraken Innit," and knew that he was screwed.
Siren gave a cackle at that. "Really? That’s your legal name?"
"Yeah, do you have a problem with that, dickhead?"
"It sounds like an overeager ten year old gave you your middle names," the man said with a lingering chuckle, before settling back into his more serious tone. "And, Thomas Danger Kraken Innit, who hired you?"
"Uh… Starbucks and Local’s Grocery?"
At that, both Siren and Blood God paused, their confusion obvious. They shared a glance, before Siren leaned towards him.
"I mean, who hired you to follow us?"
"No one," Tommy answered, his head swimming. "I wasn’t hired by anybody."
"Then why have you been following us?"
He glanced between the two villains, horrified that he was actually going to have to answer the question. There had to be a way around it, right? "I- I just wanted to get close to the Angel…"
At that, Siren groaned, hanging his head. "Ugh, so you’re just some sort of weird groupy?"
"No," Tommy said vehemently.
Which seemed to be the wrong answer, as the villain narrowed his eyes at him. "Then why-"
"How old are you, anyway?" Blood God spoke up this time, earning himself a glare from Siren. The former didn't seem to mind the other's offense all that much, instead keeping his masked gaze on Tommy, who shrunk under it.
And again, despite his hesitancy and desperation to keep quiet, the words were pulled from him, quiet but clear. "I'm sixteen…"
With that answer, the two villains went still, seeming to be absorbing that fact. Because yeah, Tommy was tall for his age, and while he still looked young, he looked more eighteen or nineteen instead of his true age.
The Blood God set a heavy hand upon Siren’s shoulder, and the two stepped away from the boy, facing away with their heads tucked close as they whispered to each other. For a few moments it was quiet enough that Tommy couldn't make out the words, but as he strained to listen, the villains seemed to grow slightly louder.
"You know he'll be pissed if he finds out-" Siren hissed, cut off by the Blood God.
"Then we don't have to tell him. You heard him, he wasn't hired by anyone, we just put him back where we found him and be done with this, and he doesn't have to know."
"But the kid has been following him, what happens if he notices? You weren't exactly gentle in grabbing him, you know."
"That was before I knew he was a kid, now let's just grab him and go," the Blood God said firmly.
And then they turned back to Tommy, who was unbound and staring at them, and their words sunk in after a moment. They were going to let him go. They weren't going to hurt him - bloody, possibly broken nose aside - and they were even going to get him back to where they had first picked him up, which was in all likelihood closer to his apartment.
Which was all well and dandy, excellent, really, everything that Tommy could've hoped for in this situation.
His stupid baby bird brain did not agree with that.
"W-wait," he stuttered, without thinking. "I-"
"Don't worry, we're not going to do anything, just going to get you a ride home," Siren said, placating now.
Tommy shook his head, beginning to shiver as his mind warred with itself. He wanted to leave, go back to the safety promised in his apartment - he wanted to stay, wrapped up in dark wings, a flock to watch over him. It was a terrible state to find himself in, mind battling instinct as he pushed himself away from the two villains until he nearly fell and stumbled from his chair, back pressed into the corner of the room.
"Come on kid, don't be difficult now," the Blood God huffed, stepping toward him as Siren stayed a step back.
"Don't scream," the other villain commanded, though the noise that was threatening to escape Tommy's throat was far from a scream.
Blood God got close and he tried to dodge, but he had quite literally cornered himself. The man caught his arm easily, once again pulling Tommy close to restrain him, but this time the boy thrashed, trying to escape by whatever means possible.
"Stop," he panted, trying to kick at the villain's legs, unable to raise his voice. "Let me go, I just-"
"No, we're getting you out of here, now calm down and stop-" the man grunted as Tommy threw his weight back, elbow digging painfully into the villain's stomach. "Alright. Fine. Siren, get the bag."
Despite the not-inconsiderable struggle Tommy was putting up, the Blood God barely struggled with picking up the squirming boy in a bridal carry, stepping towards the door. Siren was there, with the black bag that had previously been secured over Tommy's head, and at the sight of it, his instincts finally went truly berserk.
He let out a startlingly loud chirp, a call for help, calling for his flock to come and save him. It made Siren falter, and he did it again, only for the villain to spit a curse and set a hand over Tommy's mouth.
"Stop making noise," the villain directed, and though it didn't stop Tommy from biting the man's hand (earning him a hiss and a "fucking gremlin child"), the command choked back those loud chirps, and whatever other noises he tried to make.
Silence settled for a moment, before the Blood God spoke up. "Do you think he…?"
Then there was a thump just outside the door, and Siren barely got out a quiet "fuck" before the door was flung open, revealing the Angel in all his glory, blue eyes blazing with his black wings mantled defensively. His eyes swept through the room, tension lining every ounce of his body, before slowly relaxing.
That was when Tommy realized that the Angel's face wasn't covered by his usual hat and veil. Instead he exposed blonde hair falling around his ears, swept out of the way of striking blue eyes. Honestly he could've been Tommy's dad, though maybe he was a few years too young for that.
"Siren, Blood God," the Angel said slowly, looking between the other two villains. "Why do you have my kid? Did you rough him up? His nose looks like it was busted!"
"... there was a bit of a misunderstanding," the Blood God started, before Siren let out an explosive sigh.
"We were trying to make sure this kid wasn't a threat to you!"
"He's just a kid, Siren, look at him." The winged villain again looked at Tommy and gave a little coo. "Just- god, look at him, he's so thin."
Blood God, still holding the boy, gave a low sound of warning. "Angel, no."
The Angel of Death then looked up at the Blood God and pouted. "Aw, cmon. He's been following me around for weeks, I was almost worried when he stopped. Are you okay, mate?"
The last question was directed at Tommy, who stayed frozen in Blood God's arms, unable to answer because of Siren’s command. Thankfully the villain seemed to understand, shooting a glare at the culprit of said silence, who sighed and glanced at the captive boy.
"Touch your fingers together," he said, and Tommy's hand obeyed before he could think. And the moment he did, the chirps were back, spilling out of him with desperate force.
It was an odd, almost funny, wonderous thing to watch the Angel's pupils blow out, eyes wide as an answering warble came from the older avian. It was a moment where the villain gave no hesitation, no confusion, instinct taking hold of him just as surely as it had with Tommy. The man stepped closer, reaching out to the boy - but then the Blood God stepped back, and the warble turned into an almost hissing sound, low and rattling, an aggressive warning.
"Angel, don't do that, come on-"
"Give him to me," the Angel commanded, blue eyes boring into the masked face of the villain holding him, and Tommy gave another little chirp. He wanted to be held, he craved it, the closeness of his flock. Nothing sounded better than to be wrapped in those dark wings and given the chance to rest.
There was a pause, the two villains staring intently at each other, before the Blood God sighed, and shifted Tommy in his grip. Carefully, the Angel took him, his lanky frame apparently barely even a problem to the villain as the man gave an adoring coo. In return, Tommy carefully buried his face in the man's shoulder, his chirps finally dying out as he sunk into the feeling of being held.
"Oh, mate. No wonder you were following me around, you must've been so alone…" Slowly the avian lowered Tommy to the ground, cradling the boy in his lap, wings coming to cover them together. "Where are your parents? You should've imprinted on them…"
Tommy shook his head, recognizing that he was going to have to answer, but - he didn't want to think about it. The loneliness that he had grown up with, the quiet void that he tried and tried and tried to fill up with his brash noise and chaos.
Thankfully the Angel didn't push at the moment, simply running his hands through the blonde's curly hair with another comforting coo. "I'm sorry- were you alone for the entire thing?"
A nod, and the villain gave a quietly wounded noise. But he didn't ask any more questions after that, only murmuring little assurances for a few minutes until the older avian looked up at the other two.
"Wil, Tech, would you get things cleared please?"
Sounding exasperated, Siren scoffed. "Angel, we can't just keep him-"
"Wil, I can't just let him go right now. He's been alone for far too long already, that can already fuck up a new avian."
"But-"
"Wilbur." The Angel's voice turned into a warning, low and forceful.
Thankfully, Siren - Wilbur? - finally seemed to relent, huffing quietly. "Fine. C'mon, Bloody."
Two sets of footsteps made their way out of the room, but Tommy was content to stay half laying here on the floor if it meant that the Angel would keep running his talons through his hair. It sent his head into a nice fuzzy space, full of nothing but fluffy safety and comfortable contentment.
Time passed like that for a while, floating and soft, inconsequential as Tommy was cocooned in darkness and held kindly, for the first time in far too long. He wasn’t sure if he remembered ever being held like this by any of his foster parents, not even the relatively nice ones. If they weren’t the ones hitting him, it was like they treated him like glass, ready to shatter - or maybe explode - at the smallest hint of touch.
They didn’t realize how much Tommy wanted the affection, no matter how much he might grumble. He wanted a hand ruffling kindly through his hair, a proud hand patting his shoulder, arms around him for a hug that felt safe enough to sleep in.
He wanted fingers carding through his messy wings, preening them and teasing out the loose feathers and dirt.
The thought struck him like a bolt of lightning, and immediately his small wings tried to flare outwards - only to immediately be stopped by his jacket. The constricting feeling made his heart jump into his throat as his instincts suddenly screamed trapped, caught, pinned. But the Angel holding him seemed to notice quickly, giving a kind warble that settled his fear just as quickly as it had come.
"Aw, nestling - let’s get you out of this jacket, have you been hiding your wings? I’m sure that’s uncomfortable," he crooned gently, helping Tommy pull off the restricting fabric, leaving him in just his shirt, his small wings able to stretch now. "Oh… they’re so small, you’ll be a perfect little glider."
Tommy glanced up at the Angel, who was busy staring at his wings, a grin on his face. Distantly, he thought that it was odd to see such a simply happy expression on a villain, but his bird instincts were still overriding his smarter train of thought. His wings just fluffed up a little more, pressing into the hand that settled on one of them.
And oh, if he thought that having the Angel’s talons running through his hair, it was pure, warm bliss to have them running through his feathers.
The boy physically melted, head sinking back to the man’s chest, a pleased warble leaving him. The Angel simply chuckled and continued on with his movements, gently preening through his feathers as Tommy continued to float in that simple, instinct-filled spot of safety.
Eventually though, the door opened again, and the hand in his wings paused.
"You’re really going to keep him?" Blood God spoke, apparently alone this time.
"Yup," the Angel chirped happily, ignoring the way that Tommy grumbled as his ministrations paused. "He’s all mine now - my little nestling."
Logically, Tommy knew that he would be upset about the Angel claiming him in the morning. He knew that, even as he curled his limbs in closer and let the villain carry him into a space that looked much more like a home. But that care was set aside for the moment, as he was laid in a proper nest, one that was properly filled out with soft blankets, shining trinkets tucked into the very edges.
Any concern of villains and his place among them melted away as he was again tucked into the cover of soft black wings, a kiss pressed to his hair, and the Angel asked for his name.
"‘s Tommy," the boy answered, sleep now pulling at his eyelids, listening to the soothing coo that whispered out of the older avian.
"Precious, Tommy. Sleep, you’re safe here," the Angel whispered.
Tommy, despite whatever concerns might follow in the morning, closed his eyes and slept.