I can feel my body, so there’s that. Right now we’re pacing, and Pigeon feels agitated. I can’t tap into my other senses, but I’m not completely cut off. So what the fuck can I do with that?
I start feeling around the inside of the dark vault I’m trapped in with my hands, as though my desperation is going to conjure a key. Wait a second! I created this vault. I pictured what I wanted in my head and shoved Pigeon inside. I cringe as the memory of that plays out in my mind—or is this Pigeon’s mind right now?
Walk away from the Inception speak, Falon. That meta shit will get you nowhere.
Okay, focus. I made the vault. That means I can unmake it, or maybe just change it? I don’t want Pigeon to think I’m coming for her, I just need her to hear me. I snort incredulously as an image of a bird cage pops into my mind. The irony isn’t lost on me. I focus hard on changing the vault into a bird cage. I make it as much of an eyesore as possible so Pigeon still feels like I’m being adequately punished while I try to fix all that I’ve fucked up with her.
I recall this creepy old dude who used to walk his parrots around the park. He’d have their dented silver metal cage on a cart, and he’d stroll them around the playground like that. I think he thought he was doing a nice thing. It always bothered me that he never thought to just let them out of the cage to experience the fresh air. He didn’t trust them to do what he wanted outside of the cage, so he would never let them out. I hate that I’m doing the same thing.
Anytime Pigeon does something that I don’t like, I lock her up. I expect her to be there for me, but if I don’t agree with what she wants or says she needs, I shut her out and take back control. I’m no better than the creepy guy walking his caged birds around the park.
I’m not sure how long it takes, but the vault I’m surrounded by slowly but surely morphs into Creepy Park Guy’s bird cage. Just as quickly as it does, all my senses slam back into place. Vertigo hits me, and it takes me a minute to figure out what’s going on. I’m bigger than normal, which makes sense because I’m definitely not in my human form anymore.
I tower over Ryn and Zeph as they talk to me. The way Ryn’s arms are extended and the rest of his body language tell me that he’s working to calm Pigeon down, but the hurt, confusion, and anger pumping through my gryphon body tell me it’s not working. Treno watches from where he’s leaning against the cave wall to my right. He looks relaxed, but his eyes intensely track every move Pigeon and I make.
Pigeon opens her beak and screams at Ryn. It breaks my heart to hear the pain in her screech. I hate what our mates have done to cause this, and I hate the part I played in adding to the bleeding hurt in her cry too.
“Pidge,” I shout at her from inside my beat-up bird cage, and she reels back as my voice bounces around our mind.
Ryn steps back, apprehension leaking out of his gray eyes. I watch his lips form my name in question, and Pigeon snaps out at him. He dives out of the way, and Treno pushes off the wall like he’s upset and ready to step in.
I’m hit with a wave of rage, like a kick to the chest, and I stumble back.
“Pigeon, I’m so sorry!” I yell at her, but she’s not having it. “I know you’re mad, you have every right to be, but please hear me out,” I beg.
A mental image of a brick wall slamming down between us fills my mind, and I shake my head. I picture myself taking a sledgehammer to it, and it crumbles in front of me like I’m doing exactly that. Pigeon throws obstacle after obstacle at me, and I tear, slice, and smash through them one by one. I’m determined to convince her to hear me out, but that just makes her more determined to throw shit at me.
“I can do this all night, Pigeon,” I call out as she slams a steel wall down, and I mentally shove a welder’s mask down over my face and spark up a torch ready to cut through it. “You can do this as long as you want, or we can cut to the chase and figure shit out, like we’re going to do in the end anyway. We only have each other, Pigeon.”
She flashes me Zeph’s, Ryn’s, and Treno’s faces.
“Right, and these assholes too...maybe...if they don’t kill each other,” I agree.
Pigeon pauses her barrage of barriers and studies me for a moment, like she’s not buying my capitulation. I stare right back.
“I mean, I’m not happy about it, if that’s what you’re looking for. They should have told me. You should have told me,” I point out. “I’m not stoked on the situation, and I’m not sure if you’ve noticed that neither are they,” I declare, gesturing to our trio of mates, who just so happen to be—surprise, surprise—arguing again.
Pigeon flings frustration at me like bird shit, and flashes me an image of the vault. I instantly feel like crap again.
“I shouldn’t have done that, Pidge. I was mad. I had every right to be mad,” I quickly add, “but I shouldn’t have shut you out like that. I’m so sorry,” I tell her, but she flicks the apology away with a wing.
She shows me an image of herself back in the cage and me outside of it laughing, and it feels like a slap.
“This isn’t a trick, Pigeon. I will never do that to you again. No matter what. I swear it on
