Chrysalis Ch5: Night Escort (pt1) (Patreon)

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There is an unseasonable chill in the air, an oncoming cold front that carries the smell of approaching rain. The stars are shrouded in a blanket of clouds. A few drops patter off the windshield, leaving streaks of water that sparkle like diamonds in the streetlights.

The bus has its usual group of half-drunk students and returning night shifters. It's hardly empty, but there's still plenty of space. The two figures on the upper deck have it all to themselves.

Ian is in the aisle seat, still in his work clothes, watching the stairs for other passengers. Tired, a little disheveled, but alert. He’s got one hand on the seat next to him, holding himself steady as the bus jounces along.

Lloyd on the other hand is lost in thought. He is at the window, all but swimming in the sky-blue hoodie he borrowed from Ian. It’s roomy enough for him to have his wings wrapped all the way around his body. After some consideration and a quick perusal of Cromart’s shelves, he’d wound an elastic bandage around them as well. It’s uncomfortable and a little hard to breathe in, but Neith hadn’t left him much of a choice when she tore apart his binder.

Between the folded wings, bandage, and overlarge clothing, you’d hardly know he was female bodied underneath.

Lloyd stares out the window, watching streetlamps flash by. The occasional set of headlights. Bright flashes of illumination in the dark, below the dim outline of his reflection. With a shiver, he forces himself to refocus, meeting the gaze of the person in the glass. His face looks...softer this way. Little strands of silvery hair peek out to frame it.

Reddish-purple streaks swirl through his eyes, staring back.

Lloyd pulls away, looking down at his feet. He can still see the bruises around his ankles, where the bands had been only a few hours before.

"Good thing you found those bolt cutters in the utility closet." He murmurs to Ian, hunching forward. His voice is lighter than before, with a natural musical lilt. It feels like it belongs to someone else, and it’s disconcerting to him to hear it come out of his own mouth.

Ian leans back, turning his attention away from the  staircase to grin over Lloyd's shoulder. His arm is draped over the back of the seat, shielding Lloyd without actually touching.

"They did the job but they were a bit rusty. You're sure you're up to date on your tetanus, mate?"

"I better be. Think I can get a vaccination now?
Like this?"

Lloyd gives a half-hysterical laugh which startles him, and he clamps a hand over his mouth.
Even his laughter sounds like soft chimes.  It’s not his laugh.   Not the awkward chuckle he’s used to.   

He grits his teeth with unease, then after a moment he continues.

"...maybe I don't need them any more.
Maybe I never did."

Ian leans back, the seat creaking as he taps his feet against the grimy floor.

"Excuse me mate, but are you trying to tell me that you
Don't get sick?”

He pokes gently at Lloyd’s shoulder.
Lloyd squirms back making a face, and Ian chuckles.

“I hadn't..." Lloyd starts, rubbing the back of his neck and thinking back, trying to remember the last time he’d had something worse than a cough.

"...I hadn't really thought about it until now. It’s true I don’t get sick that often… but I don’t think it has anything to do with this.”  Lloyd says, tucking the edge of one of his antenna back under the hood.

“I think I just have a good immune system."

Ian snorts.

“You’re taking the piss, right? You’ve left work early how often and you expect me to believe you’re a healthy sod?
You’re lucky it’s just the two of us on nights."

Lloyd gives Ian a guilty look from under the hood.   

"Those times I left early, that was..." He looks down at himself, flexing his wings gently against their binding. The hoodie trembles.

“They get cramped.”

Ian’s eyes widen, his grin momentarily disappearing.

"Oh.
Ooooooooooh."

The grin comes back, like it had never left.
"... and here I thought it was just your time -" Ian starts.

Lloyd cringes at the joke he’s heard more times than he can count, his face turning red, but instead of finishing Ian falls silent, looking away guiltily. Lloyd frowns, not quite getting it, before the realization hits him. He shrinks back into the hoodie, almost disappearing into the cloth.

Loud footsteps on the stairwell herald the arrival of a group of three college girls. They take a row close to the front of the bus, laughing happily to each other and talking loudly. The sound only deepens the quiet as it hangs around Lloyd and Ian.

Finally, Ian coughs.
"So. We’re going to your parents' flat, innit?"

Lloyd’s ears perk up. It’s an obvious change of subject and he’s more than willing to seize on it.

"Y...yeah. Well. House. They're in Outer London. I'm…worried about them, you know? If she could find me, she could find them too.”

“As for the rest I’m.... not really sure how we're going to talk about it.  But we can worry about that after I know they’re okay."

Lloyd rubs his hands over his face, the antennae hidden under the hood twitching as they brush over his fingers. He pulls his hands down abruptly.

"Are you...
sure you want to come?"

Lloyd tilts his head, a little more pale hair spilling out.

“When… I first found you I was mostly hoping you wouldn’t lock the door and call the cops.” Lloyd forces a laugh. Even with the strain behind it, it still has that crystalline tone. “Well, I was hoping you wouldn’t anyway, but-”

Ian sits bolt upright, frowning defensively.
"Sure I wanna come?
What, was I gonna just leave you to-"

“-but this is crazy, innit?”

The question just pops out. Lloyd blinks, surprised that he's even said it...but now that he's started, it's easier to keep going.

“It's crazy.  All of this is mad.  What I am and what’s happening and that all this even exists. It’s mad for me and I’m the one who grew up with-”

Lloyd waves his hands.

"...well, you know.”

“But you're just, like..." He pokes Ian's arm.
"How are you not freaking out right now?"

Ian goes quiet, finally sobering. The street lights going by, pink and purple, playing off his face in flashing patterns as they pass by.

"... well I always knew you were weird." He says, taking his arm from over the seat and pushing on his knees, forcing his back straighter.

"I like weird."

"...Ian." Lloyd starts, his eyes narrowing. He leans closer, lifting the edge of his hood just enough for Ian to see his antenna, his scalping tingling as they taste the stale, humid air.

“This isn’t just weird.  This is way beyond weird."

Ian’s eyes dart up and to the right, unable to hold Lloyd’s gaze.
"Maybe I just have a thing for moths."

His grin spreads a little further, like he's having a hard time to keep in a laugh.

Lloyd punches Ian in the arm, his voice dropping to a hiss.
"This is serious. I - I need to know you're taking it seriously! You could get hurt, or - "

He snaps his mouth shut, looking back out the window.
“You didn’t see… didn’t have to hear what it sounded like…
what happened to the last person who tried to help me.”

Ian flinches back, looking visibly winded. Lloyd hadn’t gone into detail about the night he was taken, but he didn’t have to.

Flashes go off in Ian’s memory.  The discarded bike.    The blood on the street.   Police and ticker tape. A body under a sheet.

A local shopkeeper in the wrong place
At the wrong time.

Ian lets out a heavy sigh, leaning closer to himself.

"You want to really know how I feel about it?" Ian asks, his voice low and steady. Lloyd gives him a sideways look and nods, the hood bobbing up and down.

"I don't know how I feel." Ian says, looking straight ahead. "I just know my mate is in trouble, and I can help him, so I'm gonna do that. Yeah?"

Lloyd watches Ian for a long time, studying his face.   Trying to decide something for himself.
Finally he relaxes, sighing out a long drawn out breath.

"...okay."
"Okay. Yeah. That's…
all right. I get it."

He laces his fingers together, turning to look at Ian head-on, and offers a small smile.

"Cheers, then."

"Cheers.  Ain't nothin." Ian replies, the wry grin materializing once more. Lloyd’s smile grows, and he settles back into his seat, allowing himself to relax. Just a tiny bit.

The seat in front of them creaks. Lloyd sits up just as one of the college girls looms up over the back. Her face is happily bleary and her eyes are half-closed. She reaches heavily over the seat, patting at the wisps of hair trailing out of Lloyd’s hood.

"Girrrrl.” She says happily, nearly sliding into the aisle. "Your hair is amaaaazing. Where'd ya get it done?"

"Um...!" Lloyd squeaks, folding back into the seat. His eyes dart around for a second, then he pushes the hood down a little more, dropping his gaze to hide his eyes.

"Th-thanks. I… uh… it's just… like this?
What about yours?"

The girl shakes her head, wobbling in her seat as the bus turns.

"... nnnn-o way that's natural. Lemmeeee see your roots." She says, leaning forward and grabbing at the hood. The very tips of Lloyd’s antennae tingle and he panics, but before he can do anything Ian’s hand shoots out, grabbing hold of her arm and pulling it away.

"Hey, he's not feeling great right now. Why don't you give him some space, yeah?"
Ian stands, filling up the space as he interposes himself.

"H-he?"
The girl slurs, confused. She tries to look around Ian at Lloyd's chest.

Ian shifts so she can't.

"Yeah. He's not feeling great." Ian repeats.

The girl looks around awkwardly, taken aback.  She careens sideways, off-balance.
“Oh. I thought...sorry, I didn’t mean to assume…well...
your boyfriend is totally pretty.”

Lloyd’s cheeks catch, deep below the too-large hood. Another one of the girls stumbles up the aisle, waving her arm apologetically.

"Oi, sorry, is she making an ass of herself again?" She loops her arm around her friend, pulling her back, and the two dissolve into giggles as they head back to their seats.

Ian sits down heavily next to Lloyd, replacing his arm over the seat. This time, though, he lowers it, letting it settle over Lloyd’s shoulders.

"You alright?" He asks, looking steadily ahead.

Lloyd still doesn't sit up. He leans to the side, though, settling against Ian’s shoulder.

"Y...yeah. Thanks.
It's just weird, I guess."

Lloyd peeps up from beneath the hood. He’s smiling again, the color not quite gone from his cheeks.

"Good thing you like weird."

"Moths too." Ian says with a laugh.
"A friend of mine really got me into them."

+++

The night bus slows as it turns down the side street, rows of identical two-story houses crammed together on either side. They’ve left behind the brightest lights of the city, but the streetlamps still set off a yellow glare, keeping the road illuminated.

The bus comes to a stop, releasing a gasp of compressed air. The doors creak as they slide open, letting out a small knot of people. The college girls have long since departed, but a few other late-night revelers, accompanied by a tired-looking man with a briefcase, wander down the road on their separate ways.

Ian and Lloyd are last in line, lingering on the upper deck so they can exit last. Ian goes first, stepping down and offering his hand to help his companion to the sidewalk.

Lloyd hesitates on the last step, his hand hovering over Ian’s, the sleeve of his hoodie covering everything but his fingertips. He looks up and down the all but deserted road, his voice dropping to a hoarse whisper.

"Do you see anyone?"

"We're good." Ian utters, matching Lloyd’s volume. He taps his jacket, shifting slightly to show the tire iron tucked inside it. "And I’m going to make sure we stay that way."

Lloyd shivers at the flash of iron, but smiles. He takes Ian's hand, stepping down from the bus and onto the sidewalk.

"Okay. Thanks for checking. Sorry, I'm just being...I-I don't know."

"... reasonably cautious?" Ian cuts him off. There’s no sign of his normal teasing voice now. He’s standing close, steadily looking around the street as the bus pulls away. Lloyd swipes at a stray lock of silvery hair and nods, stepping a little closer to Ian.

Even knowing what he does about Astraea and Neith...even after everything that's happened...having him nearby helps. He tugs at Ian’s shirt, looking up and around as he nudges him down the street.

"Yeah. Reasonably cautious.
This way, it isn't that far."

Outside of the bus, the night feels fresher. More alive. The wind has blown away most of the clouds, leaving the moon and stars glittering in the dark above them. Lloyd looks up, the hood tilting back as he takes in the crisp night air, still redolent of rain.

"I never noticed how…
big it was."  Lloyd says, more to himself than Ian.

"Oh yeah?" Ian asks. A little of his usual lightness creeps back into his voice.
"How big what was?"

"The sky." Lloyd says, his voice soft and distant.
"It's different when you're in it. Like it stretches on forever."

He steps closer to Ian, counting off the house numbers in his head.
"I think I should have felt scared. I did, I mean. But I also felt...alive, I guess?
Does that sound stupid?"

"It sounds feckin’ bangin'." Ian says, slowing down to take in the sky himself. The wind tousles at his hair as he looks up at the moon.

"Do you mind talking about it? What it was like?”
Ian’s face catches a little color, and there’s something else.   A hunger in his voice.
“Flying, I mean."

"Like..." Lloyd starts.  "...it's hard to describe. I don't know if I've even got the words.
Like the world had let go of me. Like I just...let go of a breath I didn't know I was holding."
He can't help but smile.  The air is cool and crisp, but his face feels warm. Moonlight reflects and refracts in his eyes, setting the reddish-purple specks glittering.

"Sounds nice." Ian says, distant, growing lost in his own thoughts.   Then, as if realizing he’s admitted something he shouldn’t, he stammers. "Circumstances notwithstanding."

They go on, enjoying the clear night air a moment, before Ian sighs wistfully.

"... I've only ever had my feet firmly planted on the ground. Not to make light of what you've gone through. I'm not trying to..." He stammers, then looks aside, kicking a rock out of the way.

"You know what I mean."

"No, no, it's okay - " Lloyd starts, then looks away as well. He nods.
"It's...complicated. Obviously."

He falls silent, his heart racing, stealing another quick glance out of the corner of his eye. Ian’s looking back at the sky again, watching the last few wisps of raincloud roll away.

"I could...tell you more about it over dinner sometime."
Lloyd coughs, tucking his hair back into the hood.
"Maybe get a bite at a gastropub together.  Like you’d suggested.”

“Gastropub…?” Ian’s face screws up in confusion, startled out of his reverie. He suddenly halts, and Lloyd steps past him.  Ian’s gaze has gone glassy.   “When did I-”
“...oh.  Right.”

Lloyd’s skin prickles like he’s just gone past a wrought-iron fence.  A sudden, gnawing pit opens in his stomach.

“Maybe I-
…misunderstood."

Lloyd tries to play it off, but he can’t hide his expression.  He looks down and away to hide the dejection on his face.

He isn’t fast enough though. Ian's eyes come back into sharp focus, his hands frantically waving in front of him, shaking his head in dismayed realization.

"N-no no no no!" Ian says, cringing. "It's not-
I DID mean that. Going out.”

"... well, a lot’s happened in the past few days.”  Lloyd offers wryly, offering Ian the out.  His smile is bittersweet but genuine.  After all, he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about how he’s changed.   It’s not fair to expect any different of Ian.

“Because of-”  Ian starts, the tightness of exasperation catching in his voice. “Lloyd no that’s…
It's not because of what's happened.  it's-"

He shifts, growing more flustered. His voice taking up speed as he talks.

"I mean...
well it's sort of because of what's happened, but not because of what's happened to you.   It’s not because of how you’re different now it’s not-”

Ian pauses, going through the words in his head.
"Man, there is no good way to say that, is there."

Lloyd laughs awkwardly, rubbing at his arm.

"Don't worry. I understand.
I don’t know what I was thinking, bringing it up…”

Lloyd forces another laugh and looks away, the tingling creeping up the back of his neck and over his face. Something's aching behind his eyes. He starts to walk again.

"Speaking of… we...probably don't want to hang around out here too long.  Let’s-"

Before he’s gone two steps, Ian’s hand shoots out, grabbing his wrist.

Lloyd jerks to a stop, eyes confused and bright with embarrassment, his hood slipping from the shift in momentum. Panicked he moves to pull it back forward when Ian stops him. Reaching out, Ian gently lowers the hood, Lloyd’s two feathery antenna spilling out exposed to the night air.

“Ian, wha-”

"We're going to figure this thing out together, yeah? I'm not going anywhere. I'm here. I'm with you, alright? So… you don’t have to hide.  You don't have to do that thing you do. That ‘safety first’ thing."

"We do need to get you safe, but... you don't have to do that with me.”
He squeezes Lloyd’s wrist, gently and reassuringly, then lets go.

“Not anymore."

Lloyd nods, gently moving to tuck his antenna back under his hood.  He doesn’t quite trust himself to speak. He stands there for a moment, watching the moonlight send shadows playing over Ian's face.

Then without a word, he changes his mind and releases the hood. It falls back around his shoulders, and he shakes his head free, silver strands shimmering in the pale moon light, his antennae tasting the soft summer breeze. The sensations of the world wash over him like cool summer waves.  Wet asphalt and lingering rain, old exhaust and cooling brick. The street murmuring secrets about itself that he’d never known.

It was exhilarating.
Looking up, he lets his hand brush against Ian’s.

"Thank you."

It's barely a whisper. Clear and quiet.
Like the silvery shimmering strings of a lute.

Ian's breath catches.
He turns away, clearing his throat.

"When... when we've got this sorted, let's revisit hitting that gastropub together, yeah?
Consider it a rain check. Just for now.  Just till we’ve got things a bit more under control."

Lloyd smiles. His antennae lift up, shivering as a few straggling raindrops tap the pavement around them.

"When we've got this sorted."   Lloyd echoes. Ian nods.

Both of their cheeks blush scarlet, and Lloyd is the first to break away and step past Ian.   He pulls his hood up and is startled at how closed in the sensation is.

He quickens his pace.   Ian strides alongside him to keep up, and the both peer at the houses as they go by.

"So... which of these houses is your mum and dad’s place? Have ya considered how we’re gonna get in?”

"That one down there."

Lloyd points at a narrow house with a green door. The front steps have been lined with heavy stone flowerpots. He reaches for the third one as they approach.
"I don't have a key, but they keep a spare under..."

Lloyd's heart stops.

The front door isn't quite flush with the frame.
It's pushed in, just a fraction of an inch.

His skin goes cold.

"...it's open."

Lloyd takes the steps two at a time, his vision tunneling as he bursts into the house. The entry hall closes in around him. It feels as though the world is tilting sideway.   There’s a light.  Down at the other end of the house, he can see half of the kitchen. There’s a ringing in his ears and his vision feels as though it’s drawing away.  The light's still on, a warm yellow glow shining over a paper-strewn kitchen.

Someone's slumped over the table.
Purple cardigan.   Face hidden by long black grey-tinged hair.
It’s his mother.

… and she isn't moving.


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