Heron Lake Plateau alright, i'm lying, it's pleather

WC: 833

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Tegan's quiet greeting gave Niamh a bit of relief, as hearing him speak reassured her that he was at least somewhat there. When she reflected on how she’d felt when she’d been concussed, she hadn’t really want to to speak to anyone either, and all noises and bright lights had hurt. She suspected, then, that Tegan would need some good rest, which was exactly what Hydra went on to tell them. She owed Hydra a debt, she decided- for having her sister take a look at him and especially for escorting him home. She would have thanked Hydra then to express her gratitude, but when the topic shifted so suddenly, she became all too aware- in all too short a period of time- why it was that part of her had gone on high alert when she’d approached Tegan.

It wasn’t the mention of Blackfeather that made her freeze again; she’d already been aware that that was where he was heading, thanks to Rory who had delivered that message. While it wasn’t good news to hear that he actually had gone there, and to see that he’d returned with a concussion, the fact that Tegan had meddled with the Blackfeather wolves at all was penultimate to the news that followed it. Niamh wasn’t sure how to process the information she was given, and the confusion showed on her face. Her brow furrowed, and she shook her head, and opened her mouth to speak- to reject the idea of there even being a Titmouse completely. He was dead. What did Hydra mean when she said Tegan found him? Tegan found Screech’s dead body?

But Tegan filled in the information next, which caused Niamh to sit upright in one swift motion, ears flattening against her skull. ”No,” She exclaimed, a small shake to her voice. She looked from Tegan to Hydra, but there was nothing but sincerity on their faces- grim, honest sincerity. She shook her head again, and finally looked to Towhee, who had been the one who had killed him. She’d torn out his throat, and thrown him over the cliff...No part of Niamh had ever doubted that. Towhee had nearly been killed by the whole ordeal, by falling down onto a small shelf on the cliffside- Niamh herself had pulled her up. Even now, she had absolutely no doubts that Towhee had done what she’d said- she’d believed that Screech had been dead for too long, now, for her to suddenly believe that he was actually alive.

If denial was the first stage in grief, it had to be the first stage in finding out that the dead lived, too.

Not only was she shocked to hear that Screech was alive- which was still too incredulous to be true- but apparently he had kidnapped Ceara. ”No,” She voiced again, this time with more conviction to her voice. She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head viciously. ”He can’t be alive. Towhee killed him.” She insisted. Apparently Ceara had escaped, but all that went overlooked. Tegan was somehow trying to convince her that Screech had come back from the dead, joined Blackfeather, and kidnapped Ceara. Incredulously, a sick chuckle rolled forth from her throat as she shook her head, but it faltered and faded. ”He’s dead….He’s…Ahahah...What do you mean he- Ahahahah! He’s alive?!” She said, and the sickening laughter returned, and her eyes widened with panic. ”And that he’s- Ahahahahah! He’s with- with Blackfeather, and-” She said, her words split by raucous laughter which made her sides heave. She couldn’t stand it- she left Tegan’s side, still shaking her head and doing her best to control the panicked laughter. She was able to mute it for a second or to by holding her breath, but it would return again as soon as she breathed in. ”I don’t….I can’t…” She said, eyes wide with disbelief and fear. Why was she laughing? Why was she reacting like this? She began to hyperventilate, sucking in huge gasps of air, and forced herself to sit down, giving herself some space from the others as she did not want to be touched at the moment. In the need for oxygen, though, the laughter subsided and she simply sat and panted until black dots danced in front of her eyes. She hung her head, tongue lolling out, and she stared at the ground.

Screech was alive. And he was with Blackfeather. She trembled, but she wasn’t sure it was because of the excessive amount of oxygen in her system, or the sudden wash of ice cold fear and rage that had slipped through her veins. Wildly, she lifted her gaze, and licked some of the spittle from her lips which had begun to form a white froth at the corners of her mouth. She’d kill him. And he wouldn’t come back from the dead this time.

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