Little Bird [Wess Standalone]

He was sitting on the front porch, perched on the railing with one hand gripped firmly around the support for balance. Unlike his brother, who loved to do stupid and dangerous things, this was as close as he would get to a thrill. His eyes searched for something, but he had no idea what he was looking for. The twilit path to the front porch was only half-lit, and it took him some time before he saw the girl walking down it with a bundle in her arms. With her face finally in view he almost fell off of the rail - a very Mick-like thing to do. It was Payton, his one-time - and only - girlfriend. She had a look in her eyes, they were blue she said but they looked the same as any other gray pair he had seen, that gave him the most peculiar feeling, a mixture of too many things to label.

This was the closest he had ever been to a girl. Payton was beneath him, her body pressed against his as they desperately kissed. Her eyes, shut during the kissing, were open and feverish now, staring at him with an intense longing that reverberated in his very core. Somehow, her hand found its way under his shirt and lifted up, baring his torso. Alight with a sudden fire, he helped her to remove her own shirt and then rolled over and over in the desperate attempt to rid themselves of clothes. As time passed they grew hotter and drew each other tighter and tighter against them. With his lips against her neck, he experienced pleasure in a way he had never known.

Her eyes held none of the fever they had that night, instead a clear coldness sat in them. They almost looked like they could freeze him where he stood, and in truth they had. Stunned, he watched as she came closer. His eyes widened as he continued to gaze at a figure that was more filled out than when he had last seen her. Poor attempts at keeping his eyes from her hips got him nowhere but further paralyzed. It was then he realized just how much he had missed her, and how much pain she had caused when she had left. When she had walked away it was all he could do to push the thought of her from his mind, but eventually he managed. Now he was left weakened as a rush of memories burst into his head and stole any strength he had hoped to have.

He came up behind her, burying his face in her neck and leaving a trail of kisses down her flesh. She smelled sweet, like a flower, and he resolved he would be able to stay like this for the rest of his life. Her hand came up to ruffle in his hair and he sighed. A tentative whisper in her ear sent her shivering as his fingers brushed along her body. She leaned against him and he teased her hair back behind her ears. Smiling, he kissed her neck as he guided her to the bed. They were stripping the clothes off of each other before they had even made it halfway. Tangled in one another, they lay down to perform their second dance.

She made it to the base of the porch and he slid from his position on the railing in a daze. Zombie-like, he walked over to her. "Payton?" Her scowl answered him and he knew it really was her. Mouth somewhat agape, he searched for something to say. Nothing came to mind, just a big blank. Everything was off right now, he had expected to never see her again and yet here she was, glaring at him as though he had suddenly gone back over two and a half years. "What are you doing here?" Finally the question slipped from his lips, a desperate search for any kind of affection that had driven her to come back to him. It really had seemed like she would never come back.

Her fists were clenched in rage and she screamed at him, voice high and sharp so it felt like she stabbed at him over and over again. His heart was twisting under her fingers, desperate to escape her grip as she sliced at it again and again with her knife-like words. "Get out! Go away!" She swung a half-hearted punch at him, but it was more than enough to drive him to take a step back. Torn, he opened his mouth as he tried to think of something to say, but nothing came. "I don't want anymore of your excuses, just get the fuck out of here!" In despair he stepped back, not knowing whether he should try to sort this out or wait until she cooled down and try again. A knot of tension in his heart warned him that this might very well be the last time he ever saw her. "I fucking hate you! Leave me alone, don't ever come back. I am sick of you and your fucking organizing."

It had been the last time he had seen her, until now. Her absence had left his memories of her to fade, but what pale fragments remained were nothing in comparison to the actual thing. Her beautiful face was twisted in a collision of emotions that caused his heart to lurch. The hope he had momentarily held in his breast flattened as she hissed her reply at him. "I'm scrubbing my hands of you once and for all." With the fall of his unspoken wish, his eyes also lowered from hers. They settled on the bundle in arms, which looked suspiciously like a small person. Hesitantly, he gestured to it. "What is that?" Payton only looked taken aback for a moment before her words came out as more of a retort than an answer. "Your son." It was a minute before what she had said really sunk in for him. His mouth was agape and he stared at her. "My what?"

She snorted her exasperation, almost stomping a foot in what looked to be impatience. "Ripred, Westimer. I said he's your son, our son." He was still in shock, still unable to believe that it was true. He had no son, he couldn't. They had had sex only two or three times, surely that wasn't enough to leave her pregnant. "Are you sure he's mine?" Payton rolled her eyes. "I thought you could do math, or at least understand how time works. He's two years old, I left you two and a half years ago." Sarcasm bubbled to his lips but he bit it back, teeth sinking into the flesh of his bottom lip while thoughts hurled around his mind as he tried to sort everything out. This day had started with a lazy morning, and he should have known something would come up - it was only a miracle that it wasn't Mick hurting himself yet again in some stunt.

Payton switched the child to other arm, twisting her fingers as she waited for him to do... something. He could see that the boy's weight was now resting mostly on her hip and wondered how heavy a two year old could be. "Take him, or I'm leaving him at the orphanage." For yet another time today, Payton stunned him. "But you're his mother!" There was no way she would be able to just abandon him, was there? A mother's attachment to her child was one of the strongest things the world could see - something he had experienced for himself when Storm was reaped and his own mother had become extremely emotional. It had taken so long for her to come to terms with what had happened, which had been made all the worse by Jabber's death a year before that.

The look on her face was anything but convinced. "Well you're his dad, take him or I go straight there." The ultimatum in her voice, and in her words, choked him. Some part of him agreed with her, knew she was right and that was his son, but most of him screamed that it could not possibly be true. He was no father, and he certainly couldn't be one. The child would be better off in the orphanage. Horrible stories of such places rose in his mind until he realized that, his child or not, his family would do a much better job of raising him than any nasty old woman in those ugly brick buildings. "Okay." His voice was tough, almost sharp, and he corrected it. "Okay, hand him here." He watched the quick flash of relief in Payton's eyes as she carefully hoisted the boy from her hip. Taking the toddler into his arms he was amazed at the weight of the child and a twinge of new found respect for Payton grew in him.

He watched as she tried to keep a stony face, but there were cracks in it. "Good luck taking care of him." Part of her mask crumbled and he saw her frown. There was a small pause where she didn't step back for a moment, but then it passed and she was beyond arm's reach. "Look after him well, alright?" Not knowing what to say, he just nodded. He couldn't bring himself to look either her or the boy in the face, instead focusing on the spot on the ground between them. All the while, he felt the eyes of the child on his hip boring into him. "I named him Florida." For a second the piercing gaze alleviated as the toddler turned to look at his mother. A small cry came from the boy, causing Westimer to look up and see that Payton was walking away. "I-I... Payton, I'm sorry." Florida pushed his small fist against his stomach, and Westimer was unsure whether the boy was trying to reprimand him or follow his mother. Either way, the two males stayed where they were as Payton turned back to face them for the last time. She remained silent, not honoring them with anything more than a last look before she turned and continued on down the path.

She was gone.

He looked at the bundle in his arms, the small being that was his son. His son. He had his mother's eyes, the same crystalline shade of grey that Payton always swore was blue. Blue had never looked any different from grey to him, but somehow the texturing of the colour was odd. A smile brushed his lips as he gazed down, meeting the gaze of his son's with a sudden bubble of adoration. Cradling him in his arms, Westimer stroked the toddler's cheek with a gentle finger. Florida grumbled a bit, as though complaining, but didn't move away from the affection. "Florida Jay." The name, murmured under his breath, sounded as though it was missing something. "I can't let either of us forget your mother so easily." It was then he realized he had forgotten what Payton's last name was, so he couldn't include that piece of her. Instead, her words came back to him, "I'm scrubbing my hands of you once and for all." Slowly, he fit the two together. "Florida Scrub-Jay, welcome home."

Turning with the young boy in his arms, he attempted to make his way inside. It was difficult to open the door and get in with only one hand while still being mindful of Florida, but eventually he managed. Facing the empty entryway of the house he called out. "Uh Ma... Can you come here a minute?" In his arms, Florida burbbled happy noises - it was as though he knew he was going to meet his grandmother and all of his aunts and uncles. The Jay family, after losing two, was finally gaining one.