Who: Sebastian & August (NPC) Where: Sebastian's apartment When: June 5, 2010 - 3:21am What: Sebastian, all doped up and terrified, calls his father.
Sebastian sat on the cold tile floor of the bathroom, one hand clutching his cell phone. The small room was dimly lit by the streetlamp just outside, its warm golden glow diffused by the frosted glass window. His discarded t-shirt lay in a sweat and blood-stained heap at his side. On top of it was a small orange bottle with a white label; prescription drugs.
He stared at the phone, wondering who to call. Who would believe such a wild story, of waking at midnight with a searing pain in his back, his shoulder blades moving as if of their own accord, shifting and popping beneath the skin. And suddenly, they weren't beneath the skin - something had emerged, warm and wet with blood. It was still coming out, moving and changing. He hadn't dared to look in the mirror since sitting down on the floor, but he had stolen a few glances over his shoulder.
He looked again. Little wings, but not as little as they had been the last time he had dared to look. If he concentrated and wiggled his back in an unfamiliar motion, they moved, beating wetly at the dry air. His eyes wandered to the pills, and he wondered if it would be safe to take another one. He barely felt the pain through the dulling haze, but he knew it was still there, waiting for the drugs to wear off. He didn't want to feel it again.
Is this real? Is this because of the drugs, or am I really taking these so I don't feel the pain of fucking wings growing out of my back?
He looked down at the phone. Who would he call? Who would believe this? Sure, he had friends in the city, but he'd only been there for six months - do you call someone you've known for only six months and talk about sprouting wings?
His vision blurred. Mark would have listened. He would have been there the entire time, nursing him through this, telling him that he couldn't be the only one who was changing. But Mark was gone, and there was only one other person who could be trusted. He might not believe him, he might accuse him of being crazy or drunk or high, but he would listen. Sebastian blinked away the tears and flipped open the phone.
His father answered on the second ring. "Sebastian, do you have any idea what time it is?" August's voice seemed strained, but not groggy.
Sebastian was flooded with relief at the familiar voice, and he nearly lost control. "Father, something's wrong. I... I didn't know who else I could trust. Something's happening to me."
Silence on the other end, but Sebastian knew August was still there; his breath was heavier than usual, raspy against the receiver. Finally he spoke a single word: "Wings."
Sebastian nodded, forgetting that his father couldn't see the gesture. "How did you know?"
A long pause. "I figure it's genetic."
Sebastian nearly dropped the phone. "Father, you too?"
A quiet grunt of assent, then: "Do you have enough painkillers? I can ship some out to you in the morning. I can't remember when you usually get your refills." August snorted as if amused. "Not that you take them on any sort of schedule."
"Hey, I have prescriptions."
"Sebastian, please, I'm not stupid. Now, do you need more or not?"
He glanced over at the little orange bottle. It gleamed in the yellow lamplight. "Yeah, I'm running low."
"Did you even check?" August sighed. "Listen. Don't expect any more favors like this. Your habit remains your business, you understand?"
"Yeah," Sebastian barely nodded, "absolutely clear. But... what about you? Are you going to be okay? Doesn't it hurt?"
"Of course it hurts," August snapped, "and what do you think I'm doing, roughing it here? I have access to things your addicted little mind can only dream of." His tone softened. "Don't worry, I'll send you some. I don't know how long this... growth process... is going to last, or how big these things are going to get."
"Hey," Sebastian murmured, "d'you think we'll be able to fly?"
"Without changing your entire bone and muscle structure? Not unless this is magic." August gave a derisive snort. "What, do you plan on jumping out your window?"
A pained smile curled Sebastian's lips. "No. But I might try jumping off the couch."
"Sebastian. Take a couple more pills and just go to sleep. Try to sleep through as much of this as possible. And call me. Leave messages if I don't answer. I need to know that you're okay."
"I will. You try and rest too."
August sighed heavily, his voice wavering. "Why'd you have to move so far away, Sebastian? You're all I have."
"Father, I'm sorry. I'll visit as soon as I can. I promise."
There was a small sound, followed by a quiet, "Don't forget. Good night."
Sebastian set his phone down on the tiled floor and covered his face with his hands.