#thread:felix

It was hard sometimes, knowing what to do after ‘work.’ A few months ago, it was simpler. Felix would walk home, would curl up on the couch and spend the remainder of their evening trying to forget the things they’d done in the ring that night. But there was no separation anymore, no distance between the Pit and them. They went to sleep within its walls and woke up within its walls and repeated the process anew. 

They’d taken to ducking out for strolls to try to curb the feeling, as if a few trips around the block might somehow resolve their issues. The walks were still done under the carefully ticking clock of the loosely defined ‘rules’ Leo had set up for them, but they offered some illusion of freedom, and Felix liked that.

Tonight’s walk brought him to Deersprings. They liked the suburban feel of the neighborhood, hoped to visit Mistwood Park for the scenery. It’d be nice, they thought, to be out in nature for a little while. They ducked their head as they walked by the hospital, not a fan of the feeling that came with the building. There was nothing supernatural about it, they knew; it was more a good old fashioned discomfort. If they’d been paying more attention, they might have seen a familiar face walking out the front.

They also might have seen the giant bird swooping down to meet said familiar face.

As it was, though, Felix heard more than saw the beginnings of the ordeal. And, without thinking and without looking, they sprinted over to help.

—

The days in the ER differed wildly and it was usually safest to expect the worst and pray for nothing. On the slow days, things were fine if a bit mind numbing, repetitive work of triaging barely sick patients only for them to get annoyed when you told them they were fine. The fast days could go either way, depending on how understaffed they were, how many people screamed at you or how many they couldn’t save. Today had been among the better ones, where everyone seemed to work as a unit, the really sick got properly treated and redirected and Zane could feel useful. It was a nice change of pace with the utter failure of trying to help Felix still rearing its head a couple times a day. 

Stepping out into the brisk spring air was nice and Zane actually let himself properly enjoy it for once, for a moment not thinking about what he could have done better during the shift, or in general. Of course he should have known better than to think that a nice day would end on a nice note. Even if he had listened to the nagging voice of pessimism, it probably wouldn’t have come up with ‘giant bird attack’ though. 

The talons were sharp, tearing straight through the fabric of his jacket and latching into the skin of his arm, which he’d just barely raised in defense as the thing swooped in. Because it was a thing with its toothed beak and murderous eyes. In a panic, Zane shook his arm and the talons only dug deeper, pain radiating up his arm as the creature shrieked. And then the eerie beak chomped in the direction of his face, foiled only by more violent swinging of his arm. It released its grip then, providing only momentary relief - it had taken flight once more, circling overhead for another opening. 

—

The bird was attacking. Except — it definitely wasn’t a normal bird. It was huge, with unnatural looking claws and a strange beak. But there was little time to worry about what it looked like while it was attacking some random — Zane? 

For the first time, Felix faltered their step, anxiety rising at the realization that Zane was the person being targeted by this… bird thing. They hadn’t seen him in a while, though they’d at least spoken since the incident with Leo. Still, Felix wasn’t sure how to feel about him. They were still frustrated that Zane and Wyatt had gone behind their back to talk to Leo despite their pleas to the contrary, still upset that their wishes had been denied and that their life was worse because of it. It couldn’t matter right now, of course; right now, there was a bird and it was swooping back down for another shot. Right now, Felix had bigger things to worry about. So did Zane.

Felix jumped in, shifting their fingers into sharp claws and taking a swipe at the bird as it dove down for another shot at Zane. They only wanted to scare it, not hurt it. Turning to Zane, they ushered for him to run. “Come on! We should, um — find somewhere to hide! What did you do to this bird, anyway?”

—

Birds hadn’t really been covered in the self defense lessons, the focus more on dodging thrown punches and deadly weapons. Could he grab it? It wasn’t big but it looked strong, and both the talons and teeth were menacing. What if there were more? Panicked eyes risked looking away from the attacker for the briefest of moments - the dusky sky was devoid of more birds. For now. Zane had been ready to attempt swatting it away when someone - not someone, Felix - stepped in. 

The bird cawed loudly, angrily, and retreated once more, not losing sight of the vampire it had set its eyes on. “I… right. Yeah, that’s probably smart.” Zane didn’t want to risk it following him into the hospital, for it to start attacking other staff or even worse, patients. So he followed Felix down the street, eerily aware of how silently the bird flew, still keeping up with them every time he glanced back to check. “I didn’t do anything! I just walked out and there it was. It has teeth and- shit.” He hadn’t been quick enough to dodge, the back of his neck now burning from the sharp scratch of talons, blood starting to trickle down. “We need to get inside…” Most of the stores had closed at this hour and they couldn’t very well just barge into someone’s home. 

“There!” Grabbing Felix’s sleeve and pulling them along, Zane made a beeline for where there were lights inside, not caring too much about what was behind the door as long as there was a door between them and the bird. He was quick to shut it behind them, breathing a sigh of relief and pressing his palm against his bleeding neck. It was… silent. Not completely, there was quiet music playing but no one was speaking, each and every patron of the very fancy restaurant they had burst into now staring at Zane and Felix. Oops. 

—

Ducking back into the hospital that Zane had just exited might have been the obvious path free, but it was also the worst one Felix could imagine. If the bird followed them through those glass doors, it could wreak havoc on sick people trying to get better and doctors and nurses trying to do their jobs. Felix was glad to see that Zane agreed with it not being an option without either of them having to say it, was glad to know that they didn’t have to worry about that kind of thing right now. It was good, really, because they had a lot of other things to worry about instead.

“Inside!” Felix agreed with a nod. “Is there, um, I mean, if we could find a — a warehouse or something, just, you know, something where it can’t — can’t follow us…” They were babbling, which was… to be expected, where Felix was concerned. When they got nervous, their mouth was a faucet that they had no real ability to shut off, and giant birds diving from the sky in an attempt to kill their friend (Zane was still their friend, wasn’t he?) was certainly a thing to be nervous about. 

Zane must have been nervous, too, being the subject of said diving bird’s apparent homicidal rage, but he still managed to keep his head about him. Better than Felix did, really, which Felix thought they probably ought to feel bad for. Zane found a building where the lights were still on, dragged Felix into the door, shut it behind them. Felix breathed a sigh of relief, although… the relief didn’t really last. They felt the eyes on them before they really saw them, looking up to see a huge room full of very well-dressed people staring at them. 

A man in a black tuxedo strode up to the pair, eyeing them warily. “Do you have a reservation?” He demanded. Perplexed, Felix looked to Zane, then back to the man.

“Um… yes. It’s under… Smith.” That was a common enough last name, wasn’t it? 

—

Slowly, Zane unclenched his grip on Felix’s jacket, even though their current situation almost felt just as (if not more) precarious than the murderous bird creature one. He managed a smile as a disapproving gaze raked over the two of them and Zane tried to straighten his posture, tugging his jacket closed to hide the worn hoodie underneath. Giving Felix the smallest of shrugs as they stared helplessly back at him, Zane glanced back out through the window. On the other side of the street, perched patiently on the back of a bench, sat the bird. Two birds now, actually. 

“Smith…” the distinguished looking gentleman repeated and Zane clamped his mouth shut - he really didn’t want to get thrown back outside. “Yes, Smith, table for two.” Zane blinked at Felix, whom he was currently very grateful for, and then the two of them were being led past the curious patrons toward their table - like a strange catwalk featuring the worst dressed people inside the restaurant. “Shall I take your coats?” the server offered and Zane quickly shook his head, aware that he would both look more out of place if he did and of the blood that had seeped through the sleeve of his hoodie. The bleeding had already stopped but the pair didn’t exactly need to draw more attention to themselves. 

“I can’t believe that actually worked,” Zane hissed loudly once they were left alone with their menus, smiling a bit deliriously at Felix. “You’re amazing.” Trying to calm himself with adrenaline still cranking everything up to a hundred, Zane pulled the lapel higher up to hopefully hide the still stinging scratched on his neck. “Okay, we should probably find another way out of here before the actual Smiths show up.”

—-

It was like time stood still, for a moment. Felix held their breath as the well-dressed man checked his list, well aware of the bird (or birds? It had friends?) waiting patiently for them to return back to the street. They prepared another excuse for if the name Smith wasn’t on the list — could they claim that maybe the reservation had been made under another name instead? There were two of them, so maybe that meant they got two chances. Felix could try to pass for a Jones if they had to.

Luckily, though, it wasn’t necessary. The gamble played off, somehow, and they were being led to a table that some poor couple of Smiths would be missing later. Felix sent a silent apology towards the strangers who hadn’t yet shown up, but another quick glance out the window eased their guilty conscience a little. It wasn’t like they had a lot of options here, was it? The host asked about their coats, and Felix looked down at the ratty t-shirt they’d thrown on before their walk. “Um…” They were wearing nothing underneath it. “I think we’re good!” They flashed a large, forced smile, bringing their hand out from under the table to add in a hearty thumbs up. 

“Very well. I’ll send a waiter over shortly with your menus.” 

The well-dressed man turned on his heel then, disappearing back to the front podium and looking a little unhappy about it. With him gone, Felix relaxed in their seat a little, all-too-aware of the large number of eyes still glued to them. “Yeah,” they breathed. “Um, kind of a shot in the dark. Do you think there’s a back door? Or… a bathroom window? Or should we —”

“Good evening, gentlemen.” A crisp English accent greeted, sliding up next to the table. “My name is Archibald and I’ll be your server. Can I get you started with something from our vast wine collection?”

“Uh,” Felix squeaked, any confidence they’d earned from the success of their earlier ploy leaving them all at once as they looked back to Zane. He could handle a server, right?

—

Any of those options sounded preferable to either walking out the front door or sitting here for much longer, Zane nodding along enthusiastically as Felix rattled off possibilities. And then Archibald was at their table, halting any discussions of an escape plan. Mustering a smile, immensely grateful that he could neither blush or sweat from stress, Zane faltered at the squeak from Felix. They had been on a roll but apparently, it had been a short one. He cleared his throat, body going unnaturally still in an attempt not to fidget under the judgemental, British stare. “Surprise us?” Zane asked meagerly and yup, that had not been the correct answer.

“Certainly,” the server bit out, a vein in his forehead throbbing. Man, the two of them were just ruining these poor servers’ evening, weren’t they? 

“I’ve never been anywhere this fancy,” Zane admitted, returning to the stage whispering. “I don’t even like wine. Okay, I don’t know how much time we have before Archibald returns, or they totally realize we’re not supposed to be here. I’ll check if the bathroom would work, you try and see if there are any back doors, maybe near the kitchen?” he suggested, glancing around and giving an offended looking woman a timid smile. She did not return it. “You can go first, I’ll keep him occupied with… wine talk.” 

—

Felix felt a little bad for Archibald, who didn’t seem particularly enthused about the idea of ‘surprising’ his guests with wine. Felix had never worked as a waiter before — they’d been too young to legally hold a job before their father moved them into the woods, and the only employment they’d had since returning to society was at the Grit Pit — but they couldn’t imagine things like this were fun. Servers dealt with a lot of terrible people. Felix wondered how much cash they had in their wallet, and whether or not it would be weird to leave a tip before sneaking out the back even if they had no plans of actually letting Archibald serve them anything.

“Me either,” they admitted, glancing sheepishly to Zane. “I don’t even drink that much, honestly, and wine is like — I mean, it all kind of tastes the same? People say things about it, but it all just tastes like the stuff from the box at the grocery store to me.” They were getting off topic again, rambling. Archibald was an attentive server; he was sure to be back any minute now. And Zane was right, they needed to make their own way out before someone figured out they didn’t belong and made them leave through the front. “Sounds like a plan,” he nodded, looking determined. “I’ll go check and let you know.” 

With a new purpose in mind, Felix stood and marched towards the back of the dining room. Ducking towards the kitchen, they tried to walk with purpose and act as though they belonged, despite the eyes on them. When they got to the kitchen, they waited for a waiter to exit before slipping inside, pressing themself against the wall. They glanced around for an exit, but their eyes were quickly drawn to one of the cooks instead. She was holding a bag of… gummy worms? And sticking  said gummy worms onto the plate she was preparing? It seemed almost as though she was moving in a trance, though no one around her seemed to have any objections to whatever was going on. Felix gawked for a moment, coming back to themself only when the sound of the door opening again caught their attention. They quickly slipped back out into the dining room, walking back over to the table where Zane sat.

“Have you ever seen Ratatouille?” They asked, sliding back into their seat. “Do you think worms can do that?”

—

Maybe it would have been helpful to have stumbled into this situation with someone… fancier. Though, now that Zane thought about it, he didn’t really know anyone fancy. Xó perhaps but she was human and no way would he have wanted someone fragile dragged into this mess. Maybe Felix was the best choice - they were helpful and wouldn’t make fun of him but also not so easily hurt. At least not physically, the shifter was, regretfully, very easy to emotionally hurt. Snapping back to the situation at hand, Zane gave a nod that he hoped inspired confidence, keeping watch as Felix walked towards the kitchen with a purpose. If only this fake courage was real. 

Felix disappeared from sight and Zane craned his neck, peeking out through the windows at the front of the restaurant. The coast was not yet clear, wings flapping impatiently and a quick count provided five birds before their friend Archibald was back. “The wine, sir,” he announced, looking skeptically at the empty chair at the table. 

“Bathroom,” Zane provided lamely, peeking around the waiter. No sign of Felix yet. Something that was probably the name of the wine came from Archibald’s mouth, followed by some region in France, something about acidity and a harvesting process before the tiniest bit of wine was poured into Zane’s glass. He blinked, smiling stiffly before noting the expectant expression on Archibald’s face. “Oh, uh…” Picking up the glass for a sip - it tasted like good wine, probably - Zane gave an approving hum and a nod which was luckily enough for Archibald to pour more wine into each glass and leave. 

Zane was still grimacing at the aftertaste of the wine, wondering if it was his undead tastebuds or just wine tasting bad, when Felix shuffled back into their seat. He had indeed seen Ratatouille but what that had to do with their current bird-and-fancy-restaurant situation was… worms? “I think… anything is possible at this point?” No sooner had the words left his mouth when there was a commotion, one of the actual guests slipping onto the floor, writhing around and wrinkling the fancy dress she was wearing. Writhing around like… a worm. “What exactly did you see?” Zane questioned, wide eyes turning back to Felix. 

—

There was wine in the glasses at the table, which must have meant Archibald had been by. He was a very attentive server, Felix thought. That was a bad thing right now, since Felix and Zane really needed a strategizing session, and strategizing was hard to do when a super British guy in a tux kept asking you if you needed anything. (Did Batman feel this way? Was Batman ever annoyed by Alfred’s attentiveness? Felix felt a little guilty. Maybe Archibald was just trying to channel his inner Alfred.) 

Reaching out, Felix held the wine glass in their hand but made no move to take a sip. If Archibald looked over, it would probably be good if they were at least pretending to do what they were supposed to be doing. Which was, in this case, enjoying fancy wine and looking at the menu. Felix went ahead and flipped that open, too, pretending to study it very intently as Zane spoke.

“They don’t have hands! The rat in that movie, you know, it used its hands to steer when it —” A woman fell on the floor and began writhing. None of the staff seemed interested or concerned. Felix stared at her with wide eyes, then glanced back to Zane. “There are worms in the kitchen,” they announced. “Um, in the food. They’re putting worms in the food.”

—

The attempt to tie Ratatouille into their current situation was cut short, Felix really only getting as far as to accurately note that worms did in fact not have hands. Zane wished he knew why exactly no one seemed to care about the current commotion except the two of them but granted, they weren’t supposed to be here. Maybe this was part of the restaurant’s deal, something they would have known about if they hadn’t snatched this table from some other duo. Or maybe this was another installation of some unexplained horrors. 

“Worms in the food,” Zane parroted slowly, just as a low thud marked the arrival of another patron now writhing on the floor. “What do you think the odds are of this being like… a super weird flash mob and not something actually dangerous?” he asked under his breath, leaning across the table towards Felix but straightening up instantaneously at the arrival of a tuxedo clad form at their table. Archibald. Great. 

“Your food,” he announced, placing two plates on the table. Zane was one hundred percent sure they had not ordered anything yet, maybe fancy places brought out the same first dish for everyone? “Enjoy,” Archibald instructed, stepping away before Zane could fact check his theory or even ask what they were getting. Although the latter question got answered simply by looking down at the table, to the two plates in front of them, adorned with colorful looking gummy worms. 

Blinking down at the plate, Zane’s confusion grew. Were these the worms Felix had been talking about? Never mind they didn’t have hands, they weren’t even alive? Just sugar and coloring formed into the shape of a worm. Even so, considering how weird things were getting, probably safer not to ingest anything coming from that kitchen. “I think now is the time to get… Felix?” Zane really had tried not to sound… well, scolding but it was hard as he watched the dubious gummy worms vanish into Felix's mouth. 

—

Was Ratatouille the best metaphor to use in this situation? The more Felix thought about it, the less the worm thing actually seemed like the plot of the Pixar movie. The worms didn’t really seem to be helping the chefs cook, just… going into the food. And Felix was pretty sure their intention wasn’t to help the chef, or to pursue their lifelong love of cooking. They weren’t really sure what the worms’ motivation could be although, to be fair, Felix wasn’t sure they’d ever known what any worm’s motivation was. They had a feeling this was… not good, though.

“It’s never a flash mob,” they said mournfully. “I always hope it’ll be a flash mob, and then it never is. I’m not even sure flash mobs are a real thing outside of, like, movies and viral videos.” Which meant that, whatever these worms were, they were probably dangerous. Or… as dangerous as a worm was capable of being.

Before the pair could talk strategy, though, Archibald was back. He placed a pair of plates on the table, and Felix didn’t remember ordering anything, but — wow. The food placed in front of him smelled exactly like the tamales his mother used to slave over on holidays, didn’t it? Felix stared at the plate, distantly aware that Zane was speaking, but… his voice sounded more like white noise than any actual words. Felix was far too focused on the worms on the plate, and the memory of their mother’s cooking warming their stomach. 

Their hand moved without any input from their mind, scooping up a handful of worms and shoveling them down their throat. They tasted incredible, but Felix only managed to swallow a few before their body was dropping onto the floor of the restaurant, squirming and writhing like… well, a worm.

—

Gaping, Zane could do very little except stare at Felix’s writhing form for the first few moments, at a bit of a loss. Still, it seemed he was the only one that was at all put off by this behavior as more and more customers dropped to the ground. The waiters were unphased, a few of them now exiting the kitchen with more plates, although all pretense was gone now as they simply dumped the contents of the dishware straight to the ground where the fancy dressed people were wriggling about. If a few bites of these gummy worms could do this, Zane didn’t want to find out what they did if eaten in excess. 

“You haven’t touched your meal, sir,” Archibald stated, seemingly materializing at the table the second Zane stood up, startling a yelp from him. His eyes narrowed at the waiter - willing participant or victim? Didn’t matter right at this moment, the priority was getting Felix out. 

Gently pushing past Archibald with a polite smile (why was he bothering at this point?) Zane crouched next to his friend’s writhing form. “I think it’s time to leave,” he told Felix, which was all the warning the shifter got before they were being hoisted up off the ground. The weight wasn’t exactly an issue but the wriggling was making it a bit hard, especially since Zane was also looking for a possible back entrance and trying to ignore Archibald’s incessant ‘sir?’ “Hey Felix? If you can wriggle less, like, at all, that would be really great.”

—

More of the gummy worms were deposited on the floor beside them, and Felix slurped them into his mouth without the use of hands. They tasted just as heavenly as the ones from their plate, and smelled just as nostalgic. The only thing that might have tasted better in this moment, Felix thought, was some dirt. They wondered if they could request it, but their tongue felt strange and foreign in their mouth, like it didn’t quite belong there. 

Distantly, they were aware of conversation happening around them. It all sounded a little muffled, like it was happening above ground while they were under it. Come to think of it, it seemed darker than it had been before, too, though Felix could sense that the light was still there. They continued writhing on the ground until the ground disappeared from beneath them, suddenly far away. 

Even so, the writhing continued. Felix wriggled with no real purpose in mind, not even entirely sure why they were doing it. There was more speaking, muffled but… familiar. It took a moment to recognize Zane’s voice, like trying to remember something from a dream. Wriggle less? They could try, maybe. They attempted to shove the urge to wiggle down, but the movement only stopped for a heartbeat, only slowed a fraction. Zane didn’t really get it, did he? Felix needed to writhe. They needed to find… “Dirt?” The word was mangled as he forced it out, sounding foreign and unnatural. They hoped Zane would get it.

—

This was his punishment for even daring to think that today would be a nice, calm and normal day. Divine intervention from the same entity that reared its head whenever anyone uttered ‘quiet’ inside a hospital. A hand grabbed at Zane’s arm and under different circumstances, the vampire probably would have tried for a civil discussion but as it was, he worried for Felix and wanted the shifter out of here as soon as possible. So he yanked his arm away and shot a withering glare at Archibald, flashing red eyes and all, which luckily did the trick to make the waiter cower. Dirt. 

“Alright, bud. We’ll… find you some dirt,” Zane promised, distracted as he had just opened the back door, head whipping around in search of those damned birds that had gotten them into this whole mess. Nothing, for now. Grateful to have left the restaurant (and wondering who the heck to report this to in case the poor patrons were in danger) Zane breathed a sigh of relief before moving on to the next issue. He couldn’t take Felix back to the Pit, not like this. And apparently they were craving… dirt. Moving quickly towards the street, giving an awkward nod at passersby that stared, and with good reason, Zane somehow managed to hail a cab. 

When they finally reached his house, Zane paid the driver and apologized, dragging Felix’s writhing form out of the cab. Near the front porch, he set them down, next to badly tended dirt patches that Zane was now happy to have devoid of plants. He didn’t know if giving into the dirt demand would make things worse or not - all he knew was that he’d keep an eye on Felix for as long as it took. As an apology for Leo and a thank you for tonight’s assistance. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, certain that Felix couldn’t even really hear him but needing to tell them for the hundredth time anyway. 

—

Everything seemed secondary to the craving clawing at their gut. They were being moved, they were being spoken to, but Felix couldn’t quite register any of it. There was a hand trying to stop them, there was a startled sound as it disappeared. There was a bounce of steps as they writhed and wriggled, though they weren’t dropped. A car door opened, and they recognized the sound only distantly, like they were hearing it in their sleep and their mind couldn’t quite be bothered to incorporate it into the dream it was busy crafting. Most of what followed was the same — the hum of the engine beneath them, the sound of Zane’s rumbling tones as he spoke to them or to someone else or to no one at all. None of it mattered more than the craving for dirt.

The car door opened again, and Felix was scooped out and carried once more. Even if they’d been more conscious of the world around them, they wouldn’t have recognized the location. They’d never been to Zane’s house, after all. But they recognized the smell, the unmistakable scent of dirt. Without meaning to, they shifted their nose enough to enhance the sensation, letting out a low hum of satisfaction.

Finally, they were placed on the ground next to the dirt. Felix flopped over ungracefully, falling face first into the coveted substance. It filled their mouth, and they began covering their body with it entirely, rubbing it on every exposed inch of skin. When they were sufficiently covered, they sighed contentedly, inching forward with their face still on the ground to lay more of their body in the dirt. This was exactly what they’d needed.

—

Zane sighed, wishing pointlessly that he could have switched places with Felix. Not just because they’d stuck their neck out for him and this was the karma they got, or because Felix just deserved one normal night, but because from the little Zane did know, he figured that piece of shit Leo would find some way to spin this into being Felix’s fault. But Zane couldn’t switch places with the shifter and get them right back to the Pit. He could only be there, make sure Felix was physically fine considering the circumstances, ready with some water and a blanket for when this would end. It had to end, right? He’d know if people had been… dying from writhing around in the dirt until they starved. 

Worry consumed him for the next few hours of watching Felix, periodically checking their pulse and body temperature, until they finally seemed to come to. Zane would offer them anything he could, including a shower to wash off, only for Felix to decline in their rush to return to the Pit. And there was still absolutely nothing he could do except let them bolt off to accept whatever punishment they most certainly didn’t deserve.