They don't talk unless absolutely necessary.
The day after Valentine's Day is no exception for Tobias. The silence may be more awkward than usual, but its far more comfortable than actually saying anything.
He isn’t really sure what happened, but he does know what he saw. Rachel and another boy. He’d seen her smile, and he knew what it meant. It hurt. Because she chose someone else, but more than that because of what it implied. That he wasn’t enough for her. Wasn’t... human enough for her.
He watched her sleep, taking solace in the fact that at least that hadn’t change. When she opened the bedroom and balcony doors for him he launched himself into the air as if nothing was wrong. Business as usual.
He hunted, fed, and then flew in aimless circles. Killing time, trying not to think.
Tobias isn’t sure if he should go back. If she... wants him back.
She's on the couch when Tobias comes back, flipping through one of the magazines they're starting to collect. Tobias only ever glances at the things, using the words to keep his brain in practice for reading, but not much else. He doesn’t really pay attention to what she brings in. In addition to remembering how to read, sitting on the couch, perched at Rachel’s shoulder, sharing whatever she’s picked up recently has begun to feel kind of nice, comfortable. A thing they share with one another.
But now it’s slightly awkward because he’s wondering if she’d rather be sitting there with a boy instead of a hawk.
Tobias can tell she’s heard him arrive. There’s always a... shift. A moment of awareness. He suspects the same thing happens to him when she walks into a room. She’s reading, so she doesn’t look up. And for just a moment Tobias wonders something he’s never wondered before: whether she might be using the magazine to ignore his presence.
He won't ask, of course. He can’t. Because Rachel would tell him if he did, and he doesn’t know if he could bear the answer.
Which makes it his fault for being unable to hear the truth.
He’s rarely been so grateful for her acceptance of his silence.
Tobias waits on the balcony while Rachel morphs. He knows that she’s still a bit self-conscious about what she looks like when she morphs, no matter what she says, so he simply looks out off the balcony. He hears her massive wings flap as she launches herself into the air, and he’s right behind her.
And between the roar of the wind, the weightlessness, the sheer joy of flying, and the company, he's fine. And maybe they’re fine.
He sees the moment when she lets the eagle take over. It’s as they swoop over the lake. She doesn’t do that very often, and it makes him wonder why. Does she not want to be with him? Or is it something else?
He won’t ask.
He doesn’t tell Rachel that he saw her with the boy. He’d been down in the bar, just... watching. Trying to learn to fit in again. And he’d seen them. And he’d known. She doesn’t tell him, either, and he doesn’t know whether he should be relieved about it, or hurt. All he does know is that he isn’t relieved and that he is hurt.
She’s hurt him before. Not on purpose, he knows that, but he also knows that sometimes that’s just the way it is. People change. They grow. Sometimes they grow apart instead of together. He tries to steel himself for her departure from his life. Again.
He doesn’t do a very good job.
But he’s older now. And maybe a bit wiser for it.
He won’t say anything, won’t try to hang onto her. All he wants is for Rachel to be happy.
It occurs to Tobias that he doesn’t even know what Rachel tells people about them. That they know each other, that they’re friends... Maybe that’s all he is rather than just being all she’s willing to say to people they don’t both know.
Rachel is the bravest person he’s ever met. She was the soul of their little group, and if they hadn’t won the war the day she died, he knew deep down that they would have ripped themselves apart and lost the day after.
She spent years risking herself, fighting because it needed to be done. She protected them all from their enemies. And from themselves. She’s shared herself, given so much, and all he wants is for her to be happy. Rachel’s earned it, and Tobias would give anything to make sure she gets it.
And now he can’t help but wonder if there’s nothing he can give. If all he can do is stay away from her and let her find her own happiness.
It will hurt. He’ll never stop loving her. But if it’s what she needs...
He’ll do what he’s always done.
Tobias goes out again in the afternoon, evening to hunt again. He can hear the television babbling away in the room behind him as he launches off of the balcony.
He hunts quickly before returning to the air, circling slowly as he thinks things over. Ultimately he decides he doesn’t know yet. He’s not sure what Rachel wants. And he doesn’t know how to ask. But he can watch. He’s good at watching. He’ll stay close for now; until he’s sure. He can only decide what to do once he knows.
Once he knows if she’s done with him.
He flutters his wings as he comes in to land on the stool that Rachel uses to change. Again he sees that shift, knows that she knows he’s there.
The TV clicks as the screen goes black, humming quietly with fading energy. Slick pages of a magazine flap and then settle. The couch creaks slightly when the girl sitting on it adjusts to a more comfortable position.
Another flutter of wings, weight settled behind her shoulder. A gaze that sharp can be felt when it's that close.
Rachel leans her head back and he revels in feeling the softness of her hair against his feathers.
At the end of the day, she's the one who left him. And Tobias went after her.
Maybe that was selfish of him. Maybe next time... he’ll have to find a way to let her go.
