Two Birds, One Bed

Two Birds, One Bed
Written by	Owls
Featuring	Owl Finch The Pretty Cabin

Afternoon sunlight filters through the windows as Owl stands in front of their crafting table, mushrooms and daisies scattered on its surface. They carefully cut up the ingredients, sprinkle petals into the mixture, and then place two bowls over a campfire. As they wait for the soup to simmer, their communicator pings.

<Finch> I dont know how long its been since I last slept.
<owl> :-(
<Finch> Im so tired.
<owl> im sorry.... i wish i coud help
<Finch> its okay. I dont think anything would help.
<owl> mabey some nice warm soup?
<owl> i just made some
<owl> we could hang out. and eat it
<Finch> oh. maybe.
<owl> i can come to youre house?
<Finch> uhh...
<Finch> I kind of want to go on a walk or something.
<owl> oh!!! that would be nice!!
<owl> i like walks
<Finch> okay. let me get ready
<owl> yay!!
<owl> ill pet all the skelly horses while i wait for yuo

They walk around Spawn and pet all the skeleton horses while they wait for Finch. Eventually he emerges from the community center, eyebags deeper than Owl's ever seen them. They skip over, stopping just short of crashing into him.

"Hi God!" they say, rocking on the balls of their feet.

"Hi. How are you?" he asks.

"I'm fine! What about you?"

"Besides the not sleeping, fine. I think." He looks around, mouth set in a thin line. There isn't any blue leaking from his nose, and his shirt is clean. Maybe he's getting better! "I don't go for many walks. Mostly just stay in my house. I wouldn't know where to start."

"We can just pick a direction and go in it!" suggests Owl, already doing so. "Sometimes I don't leave Hill Valley for a while so I get what you mean."

He hums in acknowledgement and the two head off, chatting aimlessly.

~

The sun begins to set as the pair walk through an old growth forest, birch trees as far as the eyes can see. Something about the markings on the bark give them an uneasy feeling, but Owl pushes it down and tries to enjoy all the time they're getting with Finch today.

He breaks the comfortable silence to say, "It's getting dark."

"Yeah," Owl replies absentmindedly. They hop over a cave entrance and look up.

"Oh," both of them say at the same time.

There's a structure through the trees in front of them. A rundown cabin built with mangrove and spruce, built right by the water. It's smothered in moss and vines and clearly abandoned.

"Woah!" Owl runs up to it, admiring the shapes and colors. Even though it's falling apart, they can imagine what it looked like when it was brand new. It was probably really pretty.

Finch walks around to the other side. "Huh. This tree grew right through the foundation."

A tall, healthy birch grows through one of the walls, creating more than a few holes in the wood. It reaches above the roof, blanketing the house in leaves.

"This is... weird. Structures don't normally degrade like this," he says, gazing up at the half-rotted roof and scratching his beard.

Owl tilts their head, thinking. "Oh. Like, we've been here for... um... a while, probably, and none of the stuff we've built looks like this?"

"Exactly." He squints at the cabin.

Their gaze drifts to the water's edge and something exciting catches their eye, shoving away all thoughts of how weird the house is. "Look, a campfire!"

Two birch logs are placed an extinguished fire, decaying logs covered in ash. Some of the dirt around it has been tamped down. It has a perfect view of the water, and as the two discover, a perfect view of the sunset.

"I think someone found this more recently. Maybe camped out here and left the house alone," Finch muses. "Doesn't look as old."

"Maybe!" says Owl, picking at the bark of the log they're sitting on.

"Do you have a flint and steel?" he asks. They shake their head. "Well, doesn't matter anyway. I can just do this."

A flint and steel pops into existence in front of him and he catches it effortlessly. Owl gives a very excited round of applause.

"Yay! We can reheat the soup!"

Rain begins to drizzle down from the sky. Gentle at first, but it very quickly becomes a downpour. The pair run into the cabin, grumbling with disappointment as they're pelted with raindrops. The interior of the house is as rundown as the outside, with only a ripped painting on the wall opposite the tree-hole. All the furniture seems to have been stolen, though there are a few markings in the wood that indicate their past layout.

Up some very creaky stairs, glow vines creep over the ceiling. Their berries illuminate the space, which is useful now that night is fully setting in. Stray drops of rain trickle from holes in the roof. There's a bed and dresser, strangely less decrepit than the rest of the house. Even the blankets only have a few holes in them.

A doorway opens up to a little balcony above the front door, facing the water and the dark forest beyond. They sit beside the railing and gaze out at the rain. Thunder rumbles in the distance.

"I hope this storm doesn't get worse," Finch says. Lightning flashes and a bolt hits the water. Owl gasps, muscles locking up in fear. He sighs. "Why do I ever say anything?"

Lightning flashes again, once, twice. They whimper. He looks over, brows furrowed in concern.

"Shit. Are you okay? You—" The next bolt is even closer than the last. They stumble back inside and press themself against the wall, knees curled up. His eyes soften. "Okay."

The two of them sit in silence for a while, listening to the raging of the sky outside. After a few minutes, Owl pulls the soup from their inventory.

"It's cold now," they mumble. "But it's probably still good."

They hand over a bowl. As they do, their hands graze Finch's. Just a moment, just a touch, but tingles go up their fingers at the contact. To hide the giddy smile threatening to break across their face, they take a long sip from their bowl. Although the soup isn't hot anymore, it leaves a happy trail of warmth down their throat. The small aches and pains of the morning's work fade away, healing helped along by a homemade meal.

"Is it yummy?" they ask him.

"...Yeah," he says, staring at the petals floating around his bowl. A trickle of blue drips from his nose and he wipes it away. "Yeah, it's good. Thank you."

They give him a big, beaming smile and rock back and forth, hands flapping slowly. Outside, the storm is still raging, but it's a lot easier to forget when there's a friend around.

When they've both finished the soup, Finch says, "I'm tired." His voice is rough and deep. There's a weight behind the words, a depth that Owl doesn't quite know how to dive.

So they glance back at the bed, bright and inviting. "You could try and sleep? 'Cause, I mean, I don't think we're goin' anywhere tonight."

He hums in thought. "I could try..."

"And I can be with you and protect you from all the scary stuff that happens when you sleep!" they say confidently.

His lip twitches. "I don't know if that would help, but feel free."

He stands with a grunt and walks over to the bed. After a few moments of staring at it, he sits on the side closest to the wall. Owl lays down on the opposite side, drumming their fingers on their chest.

He lays down, stiff as a board, and stares daggers into the ceiling. They wiggle a little and take off their glasses, trying not to get too close to him despite the cramped space.

Time passes. The storm goes on.

Finch breaks the silence with a whisper. "The thunder is too loud."

"Yeah. It's real loud," they whisper back.

One last rumble, and then quiet. Only the steady dripping of the rain.

"Please have calmed down," says Finch. Another minute of quiet. "It feels like it's calmed down."

"Yay!" they celebrate under their breath.

Drip, drip.

"Why do I still have my shoes on."

"Well, this house is real dirty. I dunno if I wanna take mine off."

"The autism demands it."

Owl giggles. Finch follows suit. They don't know if they've ever heard him laugh like that before. It's nice. The same tingly feeling from earlier sends tickles to their lungs and they giggle some more. He carefully kicks off his shoes and drops them off the side of the bed.

As he settles back in, he whispers, "Maybe I'll close my eyes."

"I hope you can fall asleep and have good dreams," they say.

"That'd be nice." He sighs.

"G'night, God."

"Goodnight."

Thanks to the glow berries, Owl can just about see Finch lean back to rest. They watch him for a while, playing with the ends of the blanket. The heaviness of sleep tries to close their eyes too, but they stay stubbornly awake. Only once they hear his breathing even out do they finally give in, succumbing to their dreams.

~

"WAIT FOR ME!"

A shout rips itself from their throat as they slam upright, gasping for air. The world is fuzzy and unfocused, but even still, they're able to realize that they're in bed. They aren't in the scary place anymore.

"Oh," they mumble, as the person in bed next to them hurries to sit up. Yes. Right. The person that makes them feel nice and warm and safe. Everything is alright, because he's here.

He watches as they regain their breath, and then gives an awkward, "Uh. Are you ok—"

"I had. Um." They curl up a little more, shoulders hunched. "I had a bad dream." They pause, remembering that it's the middle of the night. "You're awake too?"

"Yeah dude, you scared me," he says.

"I'm sorry," they whisper. Hazy images flash in their head of things they don't want to remember. "In the dream you went away and I didn't like it."

"Oh?" He sounds concerned. It makes them feel funny.

"And you were gone forever and I don't want you to be gone forever," they continue, voice wavering.

"I don't want to be gone forever, either." He shifts around. Coughs. "I was having a nightmare about that. I don't want to talk about it though."

"Oh no," they mumble sympathetically. They turn to look at him. His face is obscured by the darkness and the blurred state of their vision but it doesn't matter. He's safe. And they're safe, together. "Well we're awake together now and it wasn't real. 'Cause we're here."

He doesn't say anything for a few moments. Then, slowly, "Yeah. It wasn't real."

A small shape floats down from the roof and lands in his hair. He picks it off, breathing out a small chuckle.

"A leaf just fell on me," he says.

They giggle, but when they look up at the ceiling they realize they don't recognize the room. This isn't where they thought they were. They try to reach back in their memories but all that comes up is a thick, oppressing fog.

"I don't..." they mumble, "Remember coming here."

"What do you mean?" he says, gentle. "You walked with me."

"Oh. Okay." They relax a little. If he says they did, then it must be true. It's alright. "I trust you."

"I'm sorry you forgot."

"It's okay. I do it a lot."

"I know. It's okay." His words make them feel warm. They're glad he's here.

Rain is drizzling outside. They hear a hiss.

He sighs, "Spider." A moment passes and the sound stops. "It was bothering me."

They hum wordlessly and lay back down. In the back of their mind, they wonder how he got rid of the spider so fast. But it doesn't really matter. Now that their adrenaline has calmed, sleepiness begins to creep in once more. They reach out to grab his hand but find only the blanket.

"Wanna try going back to sleep?" they say, eyes already slipping shut.

"Yeah..." he says, and lets out a strained noise as he lays down beside them.

Rolling over to face him, they force their eyes open for just a few seconds longer so they can look at him some more. It's hard, because his face is as blurry as the rest of the world. But they try anyway.

He's safe, and warm, and trusting, and protective, and they were so scared he was gone forever. But he isn't. He's right here in bed next to them, like he should be. The nightmare wasn't real.

They smile, words stumbling clumsily out of their mouth. "G'night, Daisy."

He stiffens, but they're too tired to notice. "What?"

"I said g'night," they mumble cheerfully.

He's quiet for a moment. Then, "Goodnight, Owl."

Something about the name prickles uneasily in the back of their mind. But sleep is already washing over them, so they close their eyes and dream of a blissful nothing.

~

Sunlight streams through the rain-dampened roof and Owl blearily opens their eyes. They're greeted with the face of Finch, closer than they've ever been. Their normal leg is pressed against his, and they can see some of his curls move as they breathe. The sight makes their heart sing a tune they've never heard before.

Finch groans and shifts backwards ever so slightly, then opens his eyes. They smile wide.

"G'morning God! Did you sleep okay?" they say, a little rough around the edges. Their throat feels scratchy for some reason.

"Uh." He sits up hurriedly, then seems to regret it, pressing a hand to his forehead. "I don't know if good was the word for it. But I slept, surprisingly."

"Yay!"

He idly scratches his beard as he looks at them. "...Are you okay?"

"Yeah." As they say it, pieces of memories slot into place. Mostly they remember feeling scared. And then feeling safe. "I think maybe I had a bad dream. But it's okay now."

"You did," he says, and they give a small nod— wait a minute.

"How'd you know that?"

"You woke me up," he says. He fidgets nervously for a moment and admits, "You called me Daisy."

Something uncomfortable pierces through their chest. "...Oh. I did?"

"Yeah," he breathes.

"I'm sorry," they mumble, staring at the blanket. They start to pick apart a stray thread, trying to ignore the whirlwind of emotions happening behind their eyes.

"It's okay. You were scared." He sighs. "I wish I could have comforted you better than I did."

"Well, I woke up nice and warm so I think you did okay."

Finch slips his shoes back on and stands, resting his hands on the headboard. "I, uh—" He bites his lip and starts pacing, but ends up tripping and falling down a few stairs. "Fuck!" A few floorboards fall with him.

They hurry to peer over the edge just as he climbs back up, dusting off his pants. The two of them stare awkwardly at each other. The whirlwind hasn't stopped. It might be getting worse.

"Ah," Finch begins, and then stops again. "Hm." His gaze catches their trembling hands, and then their mouth, opened to speak but no words coming out. "What?"

"I think my forgetting is getting real bad... I don't—" Their breath hitches. "I keep mixing stuff up. And I don't mean to. It doesn't feel good."

"I know," he says, quiet.

His voice is gentle. And caring. And soft, and something in the back of their mind whispers just like Daisy and they don't want to think of Daisy, because this is Finch, solidly and certainly, but they keep getting so confused and they just want to be safe with him— with Finch— because Daisy is gone forever and it's just Finch now, it can't be Daisy, it can't— they can't—

"I gotta. Um." They shove a shaky hand in their pocket and pull out their communicator. "It was nice hanging out bye!"

"Wait—"

They press their home teleport and the cabin is instantly replaced with their apartment. It's familiar and cozy but colder than the cabin, somehow. They stumble into the garden and sit on the bench, sniffling into the fuzz of one of their bees.

Their communicator pings.

<Finch> Im sorry.
<Finch> Im not mad at you, please dont run away like that........
<Finch> Im sorry.
<owl> im sorry i ran away i got scared
<owl> wasnt scared of yuo
<owl> scared of. forgettign
<Finch> Im sorry.
<Finch> I wish I could help.
<Finch> Im trying to...make up for things. Im sorry I keep messing it up.
<owl> your not messing it up
<Finch> I feel like I am.
<owl> i think mabey. we both mess up somtimes
<owl> but i like hangign out anyway
<Finch> oh.
<Finch> I like hanging out too...
<Finch> Im sorry.
<Finch> for everything.
<Finch> and
<Finch> Im scared.
<owl> i wanna help yuo not be scared but even if i cant help
<owl> maybe we can be scared together?
<owl> and i forgive yuo. for everythign.
<Finch> ...
<Finch> its not just things Ive already done Im sorry about...
<owl> what do u mean?
<Finch> Im scared of something. that might happen to me. that might scare you a lot.
<owl> what is it?
<Finch> I hurt myself. remember?
<Finch> Im not getting better.
<owl> oh.
<owl> even with soup and rest and stuff?
<Finch> yeah.
<owl> so. youre not gonna get better?
<Finch> I dont know.
<Finch> Im scared I wont.
<owl> can i help?
<Finch> I dont think so.
<owl> oh.
<owl> im sorry
<owl> i hope yuo get better
<Finch> i dont want to go.

Finally, a tear drops onto the screen. Once it begins, it doesn't stop, and they sob as they try to type a reply.

<owl>i dont want you to go either
<owl> id miss you a lot
<Finch> i want to stay with you.
<Finch> I messed up bad.
<Finch> Im so scared.
<Finch> i dont want to go...
<owl> maybe youll get better adn oyucan stay and u dont have to worry
<owl> adn everythignwillbe ok.
<Finch> owl
<owl> i think maybe itll be ok!! cause u cant gothat wouldntbe fair
<Finch> i dont think it works like that
<Finch> im scared to be alone. im scared of leaving you alone
<owl> but its gotta.cause youre so nice yuo cant goaway
<Finch> im sorry....
<Finch> owl
<Finch> i want to spend as much time with you as i can
<owl> me too
<Finch> i dont want to be alone
<owl> i dont wanna bealone either

They sob harder. It's a nice thing to say but they don't like that he's saying it. The way he's saying it makes it seem like the time's gonna end someday and it can't. They tried their best to help and that should mean it all turns out okay. It wouldn't... that wouldn't be very nice, if the world took someone else from them. It wouldn't be fair.

<Finch> owl
<owl> yeah?
<Finch> i love you

A laugh breaks through the sobs and they giggle, vision getting blurrier. Their heart feels like it's shooting confetti into their ribcage, loud happy excitement bursting from their chest and trying to send all the pain away.

<owl> ilove yuo too finch

Their communicator goes quiet for a few minutes. They watch a bee pollinate a daisy. Another presses itself into the spore blossom on the ceiling. Two more are flying in a circle together. When it pings again, it's in their hand before they even realize they're grabbing it.

<Finch> ...can I come to the garden? tomorrow maybe...or..
<Finch> ..uhhhh
<owl> u can come over wheneveryou wanna
<owl> ill be here
<Finch> okay....
<Finch> we still have to go to the beach, remember?
<owl> yeagh
<owl> i gottashow yuo my sandcastle skills
<owl> champion castler they call me
<Finch> that would be fun...
<Finch> um
<Finch> well
<Finch> I should...................go.
Finch left the game

Owl wipes their eyes, sniffles, and picks up their journal from where they'd left it on the bench. They have a lot to think about. A lot to remember.