#child patton
…
Patton was lost. He was lost, and scared, and alone, and cold. It was snowing, out, and he didn’t have his coat, his gloves, his hat. He was lost alone in the woods.
He shivered harder, at that thought, tears slipping down his face as he stumbled over a tree root, too slow to catch himself, as he fell over into the snow. It quickly soaked through his shirt, his pants. He realized he didn’t have his shoes on at all, which might explain why he was finding it so hard to move, to keep moving.
He didn’t know why, he needed to keep moving, he just knew that he had to. That’s what mama had said. She’d told him to run, to keep moving, to get as far away as he could, and to not look back, no matter what.
He wasn’t sure what was going on, but he knew it was bad. Mama had rushed him out the door, she’d been crying, she’d hugged him and told him she loved him. He’d heard shouting, heard screaming, smelled smoke, but his mom hadn’t let him see, ushering him into the woods outside the back door with the instructions to flee.
And now he was lost, alone, scared, fallen in the snow, in the woods, all alone, with no idea of how to get home, with the sinking feeling that home wouldn’t be there, even if he somehow managed to find his way back.
He started sobbing. He couldn’t help it. He wanted his mother, he wanted his father, he wanted to be home, sitting in front of the fire, mama humming a soft song to lull him to sleep as she knitted, papa coming in from chopping wood, scooping him up and spinning around until he was dizzy and giggling, he wanted to be back in their cozy little house on the edge of the village, on the edge of the woods, curled up and warm and happy.
But mama had told him to keep moving, keep going, so he forced himself back to his feet, though they were numb, and his legs were hard to move, and his breath was cold, his chest tight, but he forced it all to work, somehow, and he kept trudging forwards.
…
He finally fell, shaking and shivering, so cold he couldn’t even feel it anymore, against the base of a huge tree, if he were more aware, he’d marvel at the size, but his head felt weird and fuzzy, and the world felt distant and he felt so, so small.
He curled tight, not caring about the snow seeping through his clothing, the ice crystals forming against his skin, the snow already starting to pile atop him as it fell. He could feel his tears freezing against his face, could feel the numbness creeping through him, knew that was bad, that he shouldn’t stop moving, but he didn’t care. He was so tired. All he wanted to do was sleep. How bad could that be? Mama always tucked him in for naps, when he was sleepy at home. Maybe if he just thought of the snow as a blanket, he could sleep for a little bit, and keep walking later. That sounded nice.
The cold wasn’t feeling so cold anymore, either. He was starting to feel almost cozily warm, almost like he was curled back up at the fireplace. Almost like he was snuggled against mama, under his favorite blanket, listening to her stories. That was nice. He missed her.
“mama…” He whimpered softly, curling tighter against the sobs wracking his small frame.
“what in the name of gaia…” He hadn’t noticed the person approaching. Hadn’t heard the footsteps, but at the voice, he managed to blearily open his eyes, though his vision was blurry and clouded, specks of ice sticking to his lashes, coating his lids. He gasped and drew back, bumping against the bark of the tree, in the face of the being before him.
They looked like a large owl. They had the scaly legs and talons of a raptor, but a human torso and face, though instead of hair, he had dark, tawny feathers, small white ones outlining his widow’s peak and tracing his hairline. And instead of a mouth and nose, he had a dark black beak. He could see tawny wings stretching out behind the being, speckled lightly with black, though the being had human arms as well. A spirit, of some kind, a spirit of the forest. A spirit of death, according to the legends.
“P-please… please d-don’t h-urt me….” He stuttered out, breath heaving and shaking, the cold scorching his lungs, fear making his heart hammer in his chest, his tongue feel like it was stuck to the roof of his mouth. The being crouched before him, and he shook, closing his eyes. He heard the figure make a soft cooing noise, and held his breath.
“It’s alright, nestling. I do not mean to cause you any harm. You must have traveled a long time, to get this far and deep into the forest.” The spirit’s voice was low and soft, steady and sure, and he found himself nodding.
“y-yeah. Mama s-said… mama said to r-run. T-to k-keep running. S-so I d-did. But I don’t know my way b-back and… and I think something bad happened. S-something really, really bad. And I’m scared-“ He broke off, voice wavering as it fell into a sob that tore at his throat, and he heard the spirit make another sound, this one sounding like a soft clack from his beak, as if unsure what to do. “I’m scared that something really, really bad h-happened to h-home.” He finished, swiping at his eyes, though his hands were clumsy and stiff.
“You did a good job, listening to her. It sounds like she is very brave, and very smart, and so are you, to have kept going this long.” The spirit hesitated again, before he heard him shifting, settling down onto the forest floor, peeking his eyes open, he saw him a good foot or so away, dark eyes speckled with gold and silver looking at him carefully. “My name is Logan. May I ask what yours is, little one?”
“P-patton. I’m s-seven.” He answered, shivering once more, feeling his eyes slip closed despite himself.
“Patton. You’ve been out here a long time, without any proper protection from the cold. I would like to take you back to my nest, to get you warmed up and safe. After that we can try and find your home. Is that alright?” His mind played over the thousand stories his mother had told him, of spirits whisking away children, never to be seen again, of fae swapping them out for changelings in the middle of the night, of will-o-the-wisps leading travelers astray, only to get them so turned around and lost they died in the woods.
But… but Logan seemed nice. And he didn’t have anywhere else to go.
“Y-you pr-omise?” He asked, head drooping, unable to keep it upright as he felt himself losing hold of awareness, that warm tingling back in his limbs.
“I promise.” He felt arms scoop him up, and he gasped, because they were so hot! So very, very hot, after so long in the snow and the wet and the ice, and he nearly cried, at how nice it felt, curling tight against Logan, feeling soft downy feathers through the thin flowing fabric that covered his torso, nuzzling against them with a happy little sigh.
“I’m going to fly now, all right? It might feel a little strange, but I promise you’re perfectly safe. I’ve got you.” Patton didn’t respond, and Logan panicked, looking down at the now unconscious child in his arms. “Patton. Patton, can you hear me?” A small stirring of his limbs, but not enough, no awareness, and the poor thing’s lips were blue, his face so pale, his breath so slow and laboured. Hypothermia, obviously.
The best thing he could do was get back to the roost as quickly as possible, and start slowly warming him up. He just had to hold on long enough to make it back, and the wind of the flight would not help in preserving the little warmth Patton had left.
He quickly stripped off his shirt, wrapping the billowy fabric softly but firmly around Patton, holding the boy close to his chest, shielding him as much as he could with his arms, hoping the soft, fluffy downy feathers that lightly covered his chest would be enough to insulate him until they got home.
“It’s all right, Patton. I’ve got you.” One last adjustment, and he leapt off the ground, his powerful wings flapping hard to gain near vertical altitude, the climb much easier once he cleared the treetops and could spiral upwards, soaring high above the woods, towards home.
…
He alit on the edge of the cliff, glancing down at the child in his arms. His heat beat was slow and weak, his breath sporadic and shallow, and he cursed, passing through the illusory wall that led into his aerie.
It was a large cavern, but it never got cold, thanks to his influence. The ceiling sparkled with shining moonstones, and a large fireplace was carved into one wall of the space. He had a perch in one corner, along with a soft pile of furs, a desk against the wall. The real treasure was the books, the shelves lined and lined with books. He scoured the world for them, collecting them, fascinated by these testaments to human creativity and ingenuity, though a fair share of them were his own journals and scientific notations.
“Logan! Took you long enough, I’ve been waiting for ages!” He jumped at the voice, before ruffling his feathers, annoyance coursing through him as he glanced at the fire spirit, who currently had taken the form of a shimmering, scarlet dragon. Then he realized his luck, that Roman was here, a being with the power of fire, of warmth.
“Here. You need to warm him up, slowly. His core temperature is far too low, and a sudden change could do more harm than good. Make sure to rub his fingers and toes, to get circulation back into them, those are the areas that are most likely to succumb to hypothermia.” He explained quickly, Roman instantly shifting into a more human form as Logan placed the bundle in his arms, before hopping off across the space, to his herb storage.
It took Roman a moment, to realize what exactly he was holding. The little thing was bundled up tight in Logan’s shirt, but when he pulled it down his heart nearly stopped.
“Body heat is the best! You should take that off of him, it’s only hindering progress at this point!” Logan called, rummaging through his cupboards. Still in shock, Roman did as he was told, inhaling sharply.
A child. A human child.
“What… how… Logan!” He screeched, stilling as the child shifted slightly in his arms, curling closer to him, his thumb slipping into his mouth. Oh Gaia, the little guy was adorable, and he made sure his heat was softly surrounding him, slowly warming him up as he absently rubbed at his hands. “What are you doing with a human child!?” He hissed, Logan coming back with bandages and a soothing cream, that he started gently rubbing into the boy’s skin, instructing Roman to sit down with him, as he started rubbing his arms and legs, to get circulation going once more.
“I felt a call in my territory and found him all alone and more than half frozen. His village was attacked and ransacked, his mother managed to sneak him into the woods before the raiders reached their home and told him to run. I couldn’t just leave him there, Roman.” Roman sighed, brushing back the kid’s curly chestnut hair, noting some color was starting to come back to his face.
“No. no, I suppose you couldn’t. Is there any chance…” He trailed off at the shake of Logan’s head, dark eyes a bit clouded, as he glanced up at Roman.
“They’re gone. No survivors, except him, I suppose. I… I don’t know, how I’m going to be able to tell him.” Logan hissed as he got to Patton’s feet, wincing at the state of them.
The bottoms were completely torn and bloodied, the toes themselves turned a dark, angry purple, and he took a deep breath, knowing those would be terribly bruised and incredibly painful, if they came back from their exposure. He started slowly massaging warmth back into them, looking up at a soft cry from Patton, who’s eyes were fluttering uneasily, holding his breath as they opened.
“Patton. It is all right. Do you remember me?” He asked softly, those light blues locking onto him immediately.
“Lo-logan.” He whispered, and Logan nodded, smiling.
“Yes. Very good, Patton. We’re at my home, right now. We’re getting you warmed up, all right? My friend Roman is helping.”
“Hello there, little prince. Logan has been telling me just how brave you must be, to make it so far in the woods by yourself.” Roman murmured, once again brushing a hand through the child’s hair, his eyes already drifting shut.
“H-hurts. I h-hurt.” Patton wheezed out, tears dripping down his face, and Roman let out a low breath, stroking them away with his thumb.
“I know, little prince. But that’s a good thing, alright? That means your body is waking up from it’s nap in the cold. It means you’re going to be okay.” Patton was trembling, but he nodded.
“O-ok.”
“Patton. This is important. Can you wiggle your toes for me? It might hurt, but it’s very important.” Patton bit his lip, focusing hard, whimpering as more tears fell, but after a long moment, all ten of his toes curled and uncurled.
“Good, that was very, very good, Patton. Thank you, so much.” Logan encouraged, squeezing the kid’s hand once, though he had already slipped back into unconsciousness. Carefully, he finished loosely bandaging Patton’s feet, sweating against the low level heat emenating from Roman, as he scooped Patton back into his arms, nestling him close against his down, settling so Roman was pressed against his side, warmth encasing the nestling.
He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off Patton. Every inhale and exhale filled him with relief, as they became longer and steadier, every solid thump of his heart reassuring him, every small movement of his eyes behind their lids making him wonder what he was dreaming of, hoping it was pleasant.
“Logan?” Roman asked, shaking him out of his thoughts, gaze meeting the concerned eyes of his friend. He let out a shaky breath, shaking his head.
“He’s so… small, Roman. So fragile. What am I to do with him?”
“well… you could always keep him.” Roman suggested, voice unusually even. Logan let out a sharp sqwuak, staring at Roman.
“Roman. I cannot simply keep a child. He is human, firstly. Secondly… me!? Raising a nestling!? I don’t know the first thing about caring for one, and this is hardly a safe place for one so little and unable to fly! He… I can’t possibly… what… Roman!” He sputtered, quieting instantly as Patton curled tighter in his arms, making a small whine, tiny hand clenching his feathers. He can feel his heart rate speeding and breath gasping. A nightmare.
Instantly, he’s fussing over the child, stroking his hair, churring softly, a deep rumble in his chest that soothes nestlings, and seems to work just as well on the human, as he settles moments later, though his grip doesn’t loosen.
“not a word.” He threatens, feeling Roman’s smirk without having to look up, unable to look away from Patton’s soft, sleeping face. He takes a deep breath. “he needs humans, Roman. He needs his own kind. I can find a good family for him, a good home. Somewhere stable, that can provide a safe, structured life for him. I cannot in good conscience simply keep him, Roman, no matter my own feelings towards the matter.” He looked up at Roman’s hand on his shoulder, his face serious for once.
“I know you’ll do what’s best, Logan. Just… consider that maybe that means staying with you. Ok?” He nodded, ruffling his feathers.
“I will consider it, Roman.” A brief silence passed by, both lost in their own thoughts, before Logan rested his hand against Patton’s forehead.”
“He’s sufficiently warmed. Would you mind, grabbing some of the furs?”
“Of course, Lo.” Roman swept over, picking out the softest one, carefully wrapping Patton in it, holding the boy in his arms for a moment, before passing him back to Logan. “I’ll leave you to get some rest. Try not to fret yourself to death, Hoot Hoot.” Roman swept out of the cave before Logan could respond, though his indignant spluttering echoed behind him.
…
Fire.
Fire and smoke and screams, everything was burning, and it was so hot, he was trapped in the flames.
He could hear mama calling for him, scared and voice shaky, and he tried to call out, to tell her he was ok, but the smoke choked his lungs, burned his throat, made his eyes water as the flames grew higher. He heard her voice fading, and he tried to chase it, tried to barrel around the flames, screeching as his pants caught aflame for a moment, before he patted them out, trying to run, though every breath choked him further, and he couldn’t breath, and the flames were closing in and the roof was creaking, and he looked up in time to see a fiery orange beam creak and snap, popping with embers, crashing down, down atop him, and he screamed.
…
“Hush, little one. I have you, little one, I have you.” He was crying, he realized, crying and sobbing, and as he realized that his scream choked off into a gasping, wheezing inhale, the air still burning his lungs despite the lack of smoke.
“Th-they’re gone. They’re all g-gone, aren’t they?” he sobbed out, feeling the hesitation in the answer, which only confirmed it, really, as he shook harder, sobs tearing at his throat. He felt the arms pull him closer, rocking him slowly, something soft and warm pressing in from a sides, but it wasn’t hot, like the fire, it wasn’t trapping and enclosing and crushing him, it was nice and safe and good.
“I’m sorry, Patton. I truly am. It is senseless and cruel and no one should have the right, to take them from you. But they would be so proud, Patton. That’s all they wanted, was for you to keep going, and they fought so that could happen. So you would keep going. And you did. You’ve done so well, little one.” Logan murmurs, heart wrenched in two as Patton shifts in his arms, hugging him around the middle, face buried against his feathers, and he tucks his head against Patton’s, nuzzling his cheek, churring once again, letting Patton cry himself out, letting him grieve, acting as a steady, solid presence to let him know he was safe.
“I m-miss her.” Patton whimpered, and his own breath caught, hugging the nestling tighter, wings wrapping closer.
“I know. And it won’t ever stop, that missing. But it will get easier.” He replied. “I know of some humans, in the next valley over, that would love to have a child, will take good care of you, keep you safe and loved and protected. You’ll be alright.” He uncurled from around Patton as he felt him shifting against him, those blue eyes peering up at him, a frown on his lips, set in his eyes.
“Why… why can’t I stay? Am I not… not g-good, enough? Do you not w-want me?” Patton asked, pulling away and looking down, and oh, how his heart was breaking, absolutely shattering, with fondness for this lost child, how had he already gotten so attached?
“Of course you are, Patton, you’re so good, and incredibly brave and strong and resilient. Of course I want you. But you should be with other humans. It’s dangerous here, for you, there’s so much that could harm you, and I couldn’t stand it if you got injured on my account.” He answered softly, crouching down before Patton, who refused to meet his eyes.
“But I was with people, and I got hurt, already. And… and I kn-know, you’d keep me safe. Y-you’re good, I can tell. Mama always said I was the best judge of character.
“Patton-“
“Please? Please let me stay? I’ll do anything you tell me, I’ll be so good, and quiet, you won’t even know I’m here, I’ll… I’ll…” Logan cut him off, sweeping him into an all encompassing hug, cooing softly, throwing his whole heart into it, feeling Patton bury his head against his shoulder.
“alright. If you’re sure that’s what you really want, I won’t force you to leave, Patton. But you need to know this. Spending so much time around me, around the magic of nature spirits, is going to change you. Over time, it will make you less and less human, more and more… other. At some point, there will be no going back.” He said seriously, making sure Patton was listening, understanding what he was saying. His lip trembled, but he nodded, sharp determination and hope burning in his blue eyes.
“ok.” He said seriously, before tilting his head. “Do you think I’ll grow feathers? Could I get wings, like yours?” Logan chuckled, ruffling Patton’s hair.
“Possibly, with time. Until then, I’ll just have to fly you around. Now, let’s get you off those feet, they’re still healing, and I don’t want you to reopen anything.” Patton sighed, but flopped onto the ground, pulling a fur around him, slightly dejected. He clearly wanted to explore, bubbling with energy, and Logan smiled. “How about I read for you? Will that make sitting still a little more manageable?” He asked, Patton nodding excitedly. He selected a book from the shelf, one of fairytales, before settling on the floor next to Patton, who immediately snuggled up next to him, pressing against his side, under his wing, as Logan began to read.
Soon, his eyes were slipping shut, a huge yawn escaping him, and Logan tucked his wing a little tighter as Patton fell asleep, slumping against his side, hands curling into his feathers. Still, Logan continued to read, not wanting to stop, lest nightmares mar the little one’s rest.
Oh, Roman was going to be so pleased, and not at all surprised, by this turn of events. And he hated to admit it, but he was happy, as well. He knew he would already give anything, for Patton, and he was so excited, to watch him grow. To see what he would grow into. And nothing, nothing would harm his nestling. Not ever again.
…
