Clipped Wings

by Desrium

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Nineteen

Suffering is the plight of the body; suffering is the trial of the mind.

The Shadow Sweep was not going to make this as quick as Falcon Wing thought.

He was flung across the street into hard walls, already badly bruised. He groaned with each impact, his world spinning, but never did shout or yell.

It wasn't so much as him being resistant to the pain. In truth, his suffering was great, dull aches and agonizing pangs rippled across his body. He was sure that he had broke two limbs, a foreleg from the fall and a hind leg from when the gryphon picked him off of the ground and slammed him back into the sidewalk. He kept his silence up because of a most juvenile drive: he refused to give the Shadow Sweep the satisfaction. If he was going to die, he was dying being as strong as he possibly could be while being pummeled.

He did his best not to think about the numerous other bones he must have shattered over the course of this beating. All he knew was that things inside of him were not fitting in the right places and that some things were not meant to bend in the ways they were bending.

It was getting progressively harder to breathe. He must have broken several ribs and possibly punctured lungs.

He watched the ghoul casually stroll over to where he lay through his blurring, wobbling vision. He braced himself, retreating to his only sanctuary: his mind.

"Just a bit longer Falcon Wing... you've hurt this much before... and Patchenfix isn't here to help this time around. You've got to be strong... hold out... and it'll be better soon enough,"

Tears mixed with the blood that stained his face.

"It'll be over soon."

The Shadow Sweep's blows thudded against Falcon Wing's broken body and though he squirmed, gasped and grunted, there was nary a howl nor cry.

The gryphon could have cleaved him apart with those talons of his but he did not. There was more to the ghoul's aggression than his actual intent of killing for his black magic. He was dragging out the suffering of the red colt for what he had done, for his role in the death of the unicorn mare.

And while Falcon Wing felt himself being torn asunder underneath the rage of the Shadow Sweep, he could not help thinking about Alana. About the gryphon knowing how she smelled like...how he would be able to track her down across the city just as he found Falcon Wing through scent.

It made him cringe in disgust. It ignited his anger. It filled him with gut wrenching fear in the midst of soul crushing agony.

"Alana is with the Baltimare Guard,"

Another internal crack punctuated the breaking of yet another bone... or an already broken bone breaking again.

"She... she's... safe."

Lifted again, those glowing eyes swirling around in his sights. Keeping his eyes open was making him nauseous. He did not resist his stomach as it decided enough was enough and expelled its contents. Falcon Wing had a goofy smile on his face after he had vomited on the gryphon.

"Now that's one way to say fuck y --"

He felt the air rush over him and yet another jarring impact. The black ghoul's anger was not going to ebb anytime soon.

"Good," Falcon Wing thought, remembering Alana's words, "lose yourself, Sweepy. Lose yourself to your anger. I hope a wingless, idiot colt pegasus was worth it you fucker!"

For just a few seconds, Falcon Wing's eyesight came back to him. He was being showered in light at the base of a lamp post. The gryphon prowled towards him at the edge of darkness. The sound of static was distant to the red colt. All sounds were distant to him.

All sounds, including the booms and bangs of guns -one of which he recognized as the Peashooter- even as the wingless pegasus was drifting from consciousness, from life itself, to that great unknown that he had feared going to.

Alana and a division of the Baltimare Guard had made it to him in time.

The Shadow Sweep became a fountain of black sludge, bullets tearing through his body, well placed shots ripping off extremities at their joints. Falcon Wing saw in an almost S.A.T.S-like peace bits and pieces soaring off in arcs -- talons, forearms, a wing and a shin -- before the ghoul's head exploded in a ghastly fashion, ichor spilling out onto the streets.

"Was... it... worth it?" Falcon Wing thought, reaching for a bandolier with his unbroken foreleg. Inside was a small portion of that stock of health potions that he had stored away since the incident in Froggy Bottom Bog.

With his life fleeting, he downed several potions swiftly. They would not be enough to mend his many broken bones. He would still lose consciousness.

But at least they would keep him alive just a bit longer.

Just a bit long enough so he could be saved...

When Falcon woke up again, he was not in the streets. He was in a clean, white room laying on his back on top of a comfortable bed. His body was not pulsating with pain. His vision was not a blurry, nausea inducing mess. From the light streaming in through the window off to his right, it was day time.

He saw his cloak hung up opposite him on a coat rack. He saw that his vest had been folded up and rested on a metal table just to the side of the rack, his saddlebags resting at its base. Klaxon's pistol was lying on top of the vest.

He looked down at himself and saw he was wrapped up in so much bandages he might as well have been in a full body cast. He had no complaints. He was alive. Alive and hospitalized.

From the corner of his eyes he saw a flash of caramel fur and violet mane. He turned his head to the side and saw Alana; the mare was seemingly asleep slumped over the side of the bed, resting her head on crossed forelegs.

"I went over my limit...but I'm still here. I'm still your Falcon Wing," he croaked. His throat was terribly dry and somewhat sore. He almost sounded as bad as the Shadow Sweep. "I'm still alive... and you aren't even awake to hear all of this."

He sighed, turned his sights upwards to gaze upon the ceiling then closed his eyes, thinking it was probably for the best that he slept as well. He needed his rest after that ordeal.

His eyes shot open again when he felt the familiar weight being fitted onto his head.

He saw Alana step away from him after she placed the Pipeye back on his forehead, her smile bestowed upon a tired face. Her eyes were puffy from crying. He wanted to reach out to her and apologize for everything.

"Nothing good ever happens when you go off on your own," Alana said flatly, to which Falcon Wing replied: "The Shadow Sweep's gone. I'd think that's good..."

"You let yourself get into some pretty bad shape," she told him.

"You can say my attempts to speak to Sweepy hit a brick wall," he replied. "hit a brick wall then got trampled by a hydra."

"Well at least you didn't get a concussion this time..." Alana said, sitting on her haunches beside the bed.

"My head got a bit harder," Falcon Wing quipped. He could keep doing this all day if his throat would allow it.

Alana reached into a saddlebag and pulled out a canteen then propped the pegasus' head up, pouring some water into his open mouth. After having him drink for the better half of a minute, Alana put the canteen away. The moisture had been something Falcon Wing was in dire need of.

"Thanks... for that," he said, his voice very much improved.

"They are calling you the Shadow Bane now, Falcon," Alana said, abruptly bringing up the topic. She was speaking in a monotone -- something that worried him greatly. He couldn't tell how she felt about it.

"They?" he inquired. "The news about Sweepy's death spread that quickly?"

"DJ Pon3 got ahoof of the story not too long ago. They don't know it's you, specifically... DJ Pon3 never mentioned a name or how you looked like... quite frankly I'd be more worried about how he would know that... but the ponies in the city are rejoicing about what you did. About some pony who appeared in the city the day before and the day after one of the city's most infamous blights are suddenly dead. The Shadow Bane"

"I got my ass pulverized and I get praised for it... what about those guardsponies? What about you?" Falcon Wing said.

Alana waved a hoof. "I don't know about the others, but I don't need a nickname like that... and I'm more fond of 'mister hero' than Shadow Bane anyway," she paused then added, "I told Cocoa of our trouble in Dodge... he said he'd get Whiplash to organize something to get us acquitted there."

"Hey, would you look at that. One of our plans worked out as it should... and Sweepy was only one of this city's problems... the job's never finished..." the red colt said, mostly to himself.

"Did you... get your answers?" the caramel mare inquired.

Falcon Wing was silent, pondering how to respond.

"No," he replied. Alana did not need to know the reasons behind the Baltimare child killings. She did not need to know there were such foul practices in this world already defined by evil and savagery. "He was too busy trying to murder me to answer any questions from a fool who practically threw their self at him..."

He paused and glanced around the room.

"Say... what kind of hospital is this anyway? How come I haven't seen the doctor... you weren't the one to fix me up again... right?"

Alana smiled a bit wider, looking a lot more like the mare he knew.

"Steiner!" she called out, and in a flash of crimson light the dark blue unicorn had appeared in the room minus his battle saddle. In its stead was a white coat of a fashion that made Falcon think of Patchenfix --

Steiner's horn was back, a scarlet aura surrounding dark blue.

"Is something the matter?" he asked, looking between Alana and Falcon Wing.

"You --horn-- teleport-- magic... didn't you once say you're not a healer!?" stammered the red colt.

"I learned. And it is good to see you too," Steiner replied simply.

At that moment, the distant sound of pounding hoofsteps grew louder. The door to the room off to Falcon's left flew open and slammed against the wall it was hinged to with a quaking impact.

"What the FUCK, Steiner!? Could've told me you were gonna poof away before you fucking did it --" Klaxon said, stopping when he saw that Alana and Falcon Wing were looking at him with wide eyes. Steiner regarded him with a level stare.

"... Oh... hi, kid. Good work you did yesterday... getting yourself all sorts of fucked up..."

"Nice to see you too, Molasses," Falcon Wing replied with a smile. "How did you guys get over here overnight?"

Steiner was going to speak, but Alana was off like a shot."It was amazing Falcon! I was with you right in this room after we picked you up from the street and got you all sorted and stuff! For the first few hours things were looking pretty bad for you but then out of nowhere there was this bright red light!"

"We heard the breaking news report from Pon3," Klaxon said, sitting back on his haunches, "so Steiner and I loaded up a wagon and he did his freaky unicorn magic to teleport ourselves into Baltimare."

"You teleported across half of Equestria!?" Falcon Wing shouted in amazement.

"Half of Equestria and half of the Celestia-damned city," said the bronze stallion. "Light nearly made me go blind, nearly got the law on our tails too."

Steiner spoke up, "We got to you as fast as we could from there. You were being stabilized by medics and meds but I knew I could do more for you than they ever could."

"That's a bit... assured of yourself don't you think?" Falcon Wing replied.

"I had teleported myself, a friend and a wagon of supplies across Equestria not even an hour before that. I did not act in arrogance. I acted on the basis of my ability," Steiner retorted. "I just happen to be very... able"

"Called it," Falcon Wing said simply.

"And he means it when he said he did more for you than they ever could, kid," Klaxon said, gesturing to where the young colt would have had his wings...

Falcon Wing's eyes lit up.