He can't remember who he was yesterday or the day before. He only knows what now is, and even then, his grip on reality is tenuous at best. Memories pop into his head sometimes, phrases he remembers from a time long past. He remembers being smart a little, knowing lots of things and his mother smiling at him as he spouted all sorts of things. He remembers hiding under her wing and telling her all sorts of things. He remembers huddling under Minori's wing and being completely okay, completely happy.

And then suddenly, he stopped remembering too much. He woke up and he was still tired and his mother would watch him like he was about to break. He tried to get on his feet again, reaching for his normal proud words that suddenly didn't come to mind at all and couldn't even lift himself off the ground, just managing to move a foot a little to the side before his head started spinning.

Everyone started calling him special after that. Special, different, crazy, he remembered those. He remembered Cato calling him dumb when he tried his best to snuggle up to him and try to reclaim the fun they used to have. He barely remembers Cato patting his shoulder and saying things and actual smiles, but all he got were pranks now. His brothers would help him out when he was picked on, but he missed the actual fun, he missed running around with them. Nathan and Luciano helped, but it wasn't the same anymore and Cato never hesitated to remind him.

He didn't like people very much after that. Too loud, too mean, too angry. He'd hide behind his mother, mumbling whatever remnants of phrases he could remember from before, trying to suppress the urge to just lean over and stick his head underwater until he couldn't breathe anymore to stop them from looking at him like he was broken and couldn't be fixed. The fact that he fell out of the nest one night and could barely get himself to safety only proved their point and things got worse after that.

Being human just ruined everything more. There was suddenly so much more to learn, so much more to do, and it all made his brain go fuzzy until he just couldn't think anymore and wanted to sleep for a long, long time. Maybe forever. Then he wouldn't have to zip up things or do buttons or get his shirts on the right way around.

In the mornings, he blinks like a prairie dog seeing the sun for the first time, trying to focus on the light burning his eyes to find out what it is and why it likes to hurt him so much. "Sun" pops into his head and things click into place as he carefully gets out of bed, tiptoeing (he learned that yesterday, he knows that much) out of bed to avoid waking her to try and see if he could get his clothes on himself today.

He falls to the ground with his pants half on and off and whimpers, trying to slap them away like they're some sort of animal ravaging his legs. Amara shifts in the bed and he sits still for a moment, finally getting his pants on, before pulling his shirt over his head in the right direction as he stands up, looking as proud as he could. Surprises were good, surprises were fun, especially when he could show her what he could do now.

She rolls onto her back and he smiles, thankful that he hasn't put on his socks or shoes yet, and slips back into bed, snuggling into her as soon as possible. Sleeping was fun, but waking up was even more fun. Especially when it was with her.