V. follow the starling

The birds led him to a backyard.

Xavier had been following their flight mindlessly, ignoring the ache in his sides and knees and really, everywhere else. He was grateful when they landed. One more second and he would've passed out.

The flock perched on a stranger's patio. They got comfortable; some searched for food on the ground. Others rested on the back of chairs. While he caught his breath, one hopped into the space before his feet.

Xavier extended a finger. To his surprise, the winged perched its tiny body there.

"I don't know where you've led me. . .," he made a three-sixty and took in the large backyard they'd trespassed into, of a much different tax-bracket than he was used to.

"But I trust you." He smiled at the creature and remembered a book he read. "Oh, you're a starling," Its fur was blend of metallic blues, purples and greens.

Xavier's mouth took the shape of an 'o' when, suddenly, his finger went empty. The bird landed on a railing of the stairs leading into the house. It cooed, and somehow, he understood the message.

"Oh n-no, I can't go in there. That isn't my place."

As if in protest, it hopped in place.

His jaw hanging, Xavier watched. The bird flew onto the doorknob and hopped even more.

He chuckled. "I know. . . I did say I trusted you. Still, I can't go in there. I promise to follow you somewhere else, though."

His words were ignored entirely when, one by one, its friends joined in protest. They got on the railing and doorknob and hopped fervently about, all while painting the evening sky with dissonant chirps. Their efforts made the knob click with no resistance. It must've been unlocked.

"W-Wait, someone might hear you," he whispered his plea.

His gaze snapped over at a window; he ducked when a—ah, just his paranoid imagination.

Really, the house looked vacant. But, he could not see the entire interior. Xavier scrunched his lips. "I'm not going in." He stepped forward but winced.

His knee was bleeding after running for so long. Legs the consistency of jelly, he slid down. I guess I'll wait it out.

He exhaled. In the waters surrounding him, everything played out.

What was worse, asked his thoughts as they huddled to debrief; was it thinking he'd made a friend in Archer, nearly being sold for the memories inside him, or watching Kelsey die for his sake?

He crossed his arms over his knees and pressed his forehead on the skin.

What was worse? It was this—the echoes of his own thoughts creating pathetic illusions of a conversation with another.

His arms crossed, creating a pillow for him. Slowly he drifted to sleep, tucked away in a stranger's backyard.

.
.
.

It was his hunger that kept him awake. The sun had fallen and risen for the third time since he landed here.

Xavier's eyes were barely open. He'd never been so hungry before, and holding it in for three days was the equivalent of being squeezed dry.

The gnawing pain was a feeling he could never imagine. That's right. Kelsey always made sure he had food—he pinched his brows. "Kelsey. . ."

His gaze shifted to the door and lingered. The entire time, he heard nothing come out of the house. No movement, no cars, no sounds at all.

Out of desperation, Xavier did as he'd been doing; he followed the starlings' lead. Soon, his hand was on the doorknob. His hunger pushed it open.

As if on cue, his eyes grew.

He knew about the suburbs, but. . . the house was a mansion. And to think the owners were barely home.

Xavier scanned for signs of movement before advancing to the refrigerator in their kitchen. He parted the double doors to a haven of options. Cold-pressed juices, yogurt, organic fruits that were not the freshest anymore, but who cared? He even found a pantry nearby. Xavier swallowed his guilt as he grabbed a few things.

Only when his hunger was relinquished did he notice a stack of portraits sitting on the island. They were a family of three, he noted.

A father, his wife, and their young daughter who shared her dad's green eyes.

"I'm sorry for intruding." Xavier put the pictures down and, getting much too comfortable in the vacant home, went to turn their TV on.

He avoided the mess of scattered clothes and open suitcases across the living room. On the screen, a woman was being interviewed.

". . . most of us remember that tragic day ten years ago, but I'm sure not many of us expected the case to be solved a decade later, from a detective who, actually, grew up in California," he gestured to the woman.

She smiled slightly, and dimples formed.

"Here is Iris Caynes, the woman who put her own mother in jail. Please, tell us how that felt."

"You know, it's a weird moment, getting the idea that your own mother incited someone's suicide. But as a detective, I can't just ignore my hunches. It is true that Lily Caynes was mostly responsible for Damien Ruhl's suicide."

"How did you figure it out?"

She exhaled. "I found emails from her college days; she was. . . obsessed with Damien, to say the least. He never felt the same, though, and she hated him because of it.

"Out of jealousy, she drove him to his death. . . I feel sorry for my mom. She didn't feel any remorse when I confronted her. We should never forget that words can cut deeper than knives."

The reporter chimed in. "It was nothing less than an unfortunate turn of events. How does it feel being the one who has given closure to his story?"

The detective pulled her face taut. "It's a good thing, but it solves just one of the many mysteries from that day. There still remains the murder of Simone McKenna, as well as the disappearance of Damien's son, Evaughn Ruhl."

Xavier's ear twitched.

"U-uh, I hate to interrupt, but, please, let us stick to the topic of Damien. Also, you said murder but, Simone's death was ruled a suicide."

"No, it was murder," Iris scoffed. "She showed obvious signs of struggle. Not only that, but—."

The screen distorted with static. Then a commercial played.

Evaughn must be Neo's nephew. So he disappeared. . .

He scrunched his brows in thought until the TV was back on. Already, the news station had diverged to a different topic, and his ears honed in on every word they threw out—trafficking, torture, neural implant.

". . . These scientists call themselves Que, and what they stand for is the restoration of the cloning technology that Blackwood destroyed years ago. They do so by trafficking those with Neo Ruhl's neural implants.

"They believe these individuals have the ability to look into his life, somehow. They torture them for answers but so far, all victims have ended up dead.

"Detective Morales is the one to thank for the end of such an inhuman operation. The man in charge of Que, Lucci Darchetti, is currently being arrested."

In the live recording, where blue and red lights  alternated, paramedics moved body bags into ambulances.

Unblinking, Xavier was sweating. Had Kelsey not saved him, that would've held his body.

His hands all weak, Xavier turned off the screen and, groggily, headed for the back door. Outside, he sat on the grass.

For a while, a mix of thoughts ran circles in his mind. Amongst such chaos, he drifted so far that he lost himself and became someone else.

- - -

Neo was sitting on a couch in front of a coffee table on which a laptop sat. He turned abruptly at the sound of footsteps coming from behind him.

From the top of a staircase, a young boy was descending, blanket in hand. "Neo? I heard a loud noise. Are there monsters?" He stopped in front of his uncle whose vision was a bit blurred.

"There's no monsters, Eve. Something just... fell."

The boy dropped his blanket. "Why is Neo crying?"

"I'm not. I'm fine. See? Now, go back to sleep, okay?"

"I can't sleep anymore." Eve came to sandwich his body between Neo's sitting legs. "I want to stay up with you now."

"Sorry, Eve," his fingers swam through the boy's hair for a massage. "We can't stay up. We have to wake up early tomorrow for school."

"But Neo's crying." His lip quivered. A whimper followed. "I don't want you to cry."

"I told you. I'm not," he cooed softly, moving his fingers to soothe. "Don't worry about me, okay?"

- - -

When the scene brushed away, Xavier was half-smiling.

"Neo loved him a lot. They were happy," he pushed his chin into his knees. It was bittersweet, the curve on his lips, genuine but tinged with longing.

How he wished for the same.

"So why would Eve disappear?"

Screech.

Xavier stiffened. He craned his body ever so slightly, and saw a SUV.

Alas, his luck ran out.