-Sky's POV-
I misspoke. It is Jerome. But this is not how Jerome acts. So I was really confused on whether Jerome was going instinctually insane or if something was wrong. Is he okay?
Choco was absolutely stunned, terrified beyond belief in the corner. I caught Choco's undivided attention, letting him relax only the slightest, but it still did something. Jerome remained fixated, ignoring me behind him. The cuts and gouges in Choco still bled, so I needed to save him ASAP. How'd Jerome even get past Mitch?!
I quickly teleported in front of Jerome, body-blocking him from Choco. "Move, Sky!" "No! Jerome, leave him alone! Go back to bed!" "No!" "Jerome!!! Go please!"
"I don't want to!" "Why." "I- I don't know! I can't!" "Just back up. I don't care how, just back up. Now." "Agh!"
He stepped back, but he changed. The enchantment wore off, and he immediately looked like a bacca. He growled, shaking his head furiously, and dropped onto all fours. "Aaaagh! Make it stop!" Mitch came running in, ripping the small knife out of Jerome's paw.
Jerome was wrestled down to the floor by Mitch, and I swept Choco out of the blood pool and into my arms.  Blood ran down my arms and dripped to the floor as I raced him to the medical room. I collected some of the meds I'd need to keep him calm and to put him under. I gave him the anesthetic, and he fell unconscious while I started to heal his wounds. I stitched a few and used magic to heal others.
If the wounds were deep and bleeding, I stitched them. If they were small cuts, I healed them. I wrapped the bigger wounds after I stitched them to keep the blood from clotting his feathers together. I washed the copious amount of blood off his feathers before I wrapped the dry gauze around the gashes. I cleaned and dried his feathers quickly before he woke up.
I took him- still out- up to my room to let him wake up gently in his own time. I ran back to the main hall to find Mitch still wrestling with Jerome- so I took a risk and pulled Mitch away from Jerome. I let him sit there, out of breath and totally stunned. Mitch had scratches from Jerome's claws, and Jerome was half- choked.
Mitch broke away from me. He sat down where he was, and let Jerome retch and cough a few feet away. He turned, and tears were in his eyes. He knew what he'd done, and I could tell he was trying to apologize. Jerome shakily stood up, and bounded back to bed- Mitch following suit.
I went back to bed as well. Choco was up, but he seemed groggy and still in a lot of pain. I stroked his head for a few minutes, and he settled under my touch, falling asleep. I let him go, and fell asleep myself within minutes. At least he's okay, and Jerome is too.
I hope.
I woke up again, this time properly. Choco was curled against my chest, his little feathered head just barely on the pillow. He was asleep still, so I let him sleep. But I got up, and let the poor injured bird lie. I didn't want to wake Choco.
Walking downstairs, I found Mitch and Jerome. Mitch was floating above Jerome's head, and Jerome was playing Catch the Mitch. He was leaping up and trying to grab Mitch's feet to pull him down, but was failing miserably. I studied Jerome- he was still a bacca. The enchantment had worn off completely, but at least he had decency to retract his claws as to not hurt Mitch.
A squeak from my room caught my undivided attention, and I checked on Choco, who happened to be awake now. I lifted him, seeing as he was too injured to walk, and carried him downstairs for breakfast. This, however, caught Jerome's attention. (Jerome is Illuminati confirmed. That ^ ended on 666 words)
Mitch noticed, and lowered himself. This redirected Jerome, hence giving me passage without having to worry about Jerome attacking Choco again. Jerome went back to Catch the Mitch, and I carried Choco to breakfast. He took a muffin off my plate, and then just laughed at me. I looked at him like he was from space. "Are you kidding me, Choco? Why?" I joked. "I like muffins! Sorry." I chuckled. "Dude, just ask and I'll get you one."
"Okay. Thanks for the muffin." "For fudge sakes, man." Preston came in- and I noticed something off. He was limping slightly. I kept watching, and with every step, the limp became heavier. "Preston- you okay?" I called.
He turned. "Not exactly..." "What's wrong?" "My leg hurts." "Is it from your injuries a while back?" "I dunno. Probably."
"Well, come here. Let me look at it." He limped over, and sat next to me. He pulled up the pant leg to his previously injured leg, and I gasped. "Dude! How did you not see this!?" "It wasn't there before!" "Are you sure?" "Yeah!"
His whole lower leg was covered in dark black and blue bruises. It actually seemed like one bruise that wrapped all the way around- up and down. His entire leg was a mess of bruising, and there was a bigger problem. There was a broken blood vessel near the center of the bruising on his shin. It was a strange magenta purple color, and that was all the pain he'd felt.
Boy, do bruises hurt. They suck, because if you rub them or even brush at them- they hurt. Having to walk on a bruise like this must be murder to Preston's pain receptors. His old wounds seemed to have healed nicely, leaving only faint scar tissue. "Where did this come from?!"
"I don't know. This wasn't even here when I woke up." "What do you mean it wasn't here?" "I've been really twitchy lately, and I constantly look myself over just in case, and it wasn't there this morning. It didn't even hurt. It only hurt when I got down the steps." "That makes no sense. Are you saying there wasn't a single trace of it?" "Yeah. There was absolutely nothing. Only the scars."
"But that doesn't make sense then. Bruises develop slowly. You'd notice. They don't just appear. Maybe you missed it?" "No. It was completely clear. If I saw it, which I didn't, I would've notified you and Rob immediately. But 1, he's not here right now, 2, I didn't see it, and 3, It didn't hurt until I got downstairs."
I healed it, still concerned. "If it shows up again, come to me. And where is Rob?" "He left a while ago. He didn't say exactly, but he did say he was going to the nearby town for something." "Oh. When did he leave? I'm a very light sleeper and he didn't wake me up." "He left around 5 this morning." "That's why he didn't wake me up."
"Why?" "He must've slipped out. Choco was being attacked around 5. I was probably in the medical room with Choco when he left." "Really? What happened?" "Jerome went nuts and like, preyed on Choco. He cornered him and was cutting him up." "Is Jerome better? And are you okay, Choco?" "I- I'm fine." "The enchantment wore off of Jerome completely. I don't know if it's affecting him or not to be honest."
"Oh. Well, have as good a day as you can. Don't stress out like Rob. I hate it when he does that. Bye!" And he left the kitchen. "I have a feeling he's holding something back." Choco said, and I turned. "What makes you think that?"
"He's hesitating a lot." "Yeah, he is, isn't he? Why do you think?" "He did say Rob is stressing... Maybe that?" "Most likely." "Who is Rob by the way?" "What?"
"Who's Rob?" "Oh god! I never introduced you to him. Wow. Um... Rob is the Flower King." "He is?! Oh my god I love flowers!" "You just met the Flower Queen, by the way." "Preston? He's the Flower Queen?" "Uh, yeah. Pretty much."
"That's AWESOME!!!" "Do you remember Vikk and Lachlan? From the market trip?" "Yeah." "Vikk is a king too. Lachlan is a queen. Dude, we're different, so don't freak out." "I wasn't gonna. I love having royalty around. It doesn't matter who's who. It's royalty. I LOVE royalty."
"Choco, you okay?" "Eh. Not really." "What's wrong?" "My legs and chest hurt." "Can you still feel pain from your wounds?" "Yeah... That's what hurts." "Okay. Come here Choco, let's get that fixed." And I picked him up.
I carried him upstairs to my room, and pulled the gauze away slowly and carefully, rolling it as I went. I found that the blood had dried the gauze to his leg, so I pulled even slower, and set my hand lightly against the thin space directly between the gauze and his leg. It came off, and I threw it out. It was covered in blood- rendering it useless. Same with every other bit of gauze.
I cleaned him up from all the dried blood on his feathers and legs. It seemed to free him from the sticky, crusty feeling on his feathers. He shook out his feathers, but he seemed reluctant to move his wings. I slowly realized it was because one was broken. I hadn't noticed before because I was focused on all the blood and cuts. His feathers were all ruffled, so I couldn't tell.
I opened it carefully, and he stretched his other wing. I moved the bones back into their proper places, and set it with a wooden ruler stick. His wing was barely longer than the ruler, only about a 3 inch difference. I let him sort out his wings comfortably before rewrapping his deeper wounds. He wound down and started to doze off.
I dropped in downstairs, and found Mitch sitting in the middle of the floor, coloring with Pete and Mat. Jerome was coloring too, but his was a mess. The colors were mostly abnormal- not colors you normally use. Deciding it was intentional, I asked him why. "What?" "What are you drawing that uses neon green?"
"Neon green? What?! Where?" "All over your paper. I thought it was intentional." Jerome threw the pencil he was using in frustration. "Jerome. Simmer down." Mitch warned.
"It's not fair!" "What isn't?" "Jerome's colorblind, Sky." "You are?" "Yeah! I hate it. I can't color or anything. It all looks wrong." "What does this color lol like?"
I pointed to the neon green. "Blue. A light blue. What color is it?" "Neon green." "God dammit!" "That's a bad word Jerome!" Pete cried. "Sorry Pete. But still. It's maddening."
"You just have to ask about a color before you use it. Remember what color you see and what color it is. You'll retain the information. It's simply how your brain remembers colors, Jerome." "Then yell at my sight. I can't see the specific colors. Where's the green? I see gray, blue, black, white, and a slight shade of pink." "Green? Right here." I handed it to him.
"See, this is gray! There's no way this is green!" "It's green, Jerome. Trust me." "Fine. Where's gray?" I gave it to him. "Now this is definitely gray. No doubt about it. It's gray." He picked up the green. "This is not green. It's gray." He picked up a blue colored pencil.
"This is... Blue?" "Yes, Jerome. It's blue." He grabbed another. "Black?" "Purple." Another pencil. "White?!" "Uhhhh... Yellow."
Rage built up, and Mitch had to stop it. Pete and Mat just kept coloring like nothing happened.