Drabbles
Drabbles for Hey Jude. There shouldn't be any spoilers, but things will also be out of context so they may only mostly make sense. I think these will be potentially canon, which means that according to what I presently have planned for the story, these events could take place. I may also do some back story ones, which probably will be canon.

1.

It looked like an oversized aborted chicken fetus that had been left out to decay for a few days, stomach bloated and skin peeling, and with an odor to match its appearance. If it were standing next to me, it would have come up to about my hip, but I had no intention of letting it get that close. I brandished my shovel.

It made a screeching, squawking sound and ran at me, then leaped into the air and started flying in my direction. It was flying. Sure, it wasn't exactly souring like an eagle, but with the undersized, malformed, featherless wings this things possessed, flight should definitely not have been a possibility. It was fucking flying.

I swung my shovel the moment it was in range and slashed it across its side underneath one wing, the force of the impact sending the demon crashing to the ground. It took a moment to stumble to its feet, seeming less concerned about the gash in its side that was leaking putrid pus and sticky blood than I was. My main concern had just changed from injury to that thing touching me at all. Gross. I gagged at the smell.

It hissed at me like a goose, then flapped awkwardly into the air and dove toward me again, talons clawing at the air and beak snapping as though it were unsure which it wanted to use to gouge out my eyes. I swung the shovel, getting it in the side of the head with the underside. It hit the ground, and though it twisted and writhed, it couldn't manage to get up again.

I hit it in the head again. "Stop." Thunk. "Defying." Thunk. "Gravity!" I used the point of the shovel to stab into its neck, severing its head from its body for good measure.

"Well," Wiley said, causing me to jump and spin around. I hadn't known he was there. He slowly holstered his gun. "Another win for science, then."

2.

It wasn't large - about the size of a very large cat - but it was fast. Really fucking fast, and with pointy teeth so long its mouth struggled to contain them all. I was very much unarmed, and Ion had his own demons to deal with, and I could not afford to get injured. Under normal circumstances, death was all I had to worry about - Sal could heal injuries - but out here, when it was just me and Ion with a few days walk ahead of us, I could not afford to get hurt.

I tried to circle around it, aware too late of the dead end alley it was slowly backing me into. Not good. I glanced around me for a weapon, hesitant to take my eyes off the creature, but well aware that I had no chance with this thing hand to hand. I grimaced. There was nothing, unless I wanted to fight it with a dismantled cardboard box or an empty soda can.

And then it was charging at me, teeth intent on sinking into my calves, and at some point I decided to kick it even if I was just wearing trainers and it would probably hurt me more than it. A moment before it was in range something shot down past me, grabbed the demon, and yanked it away. I turned around slowly.

I backed up so quickly I tripped and fell on my ass. Ouch, and what the fuck is that? It was... well, it was a praying mantis. A fucking huge praying mantis. A praying mantis the size of a car. It bit the head off its pray and twisted its head at an odd angle, watching me through huge eyes. I slowly got to my feat, and backed away.

"Uh..." I said slowly. I could hear Ion approaching from behind, but I didn't particularly feel like turning my back on the creature. "Thank you?"

3.

"Ugh," I said, shoving Mikey's head off my shoulder roughly. "You got peanut butter on my shirt. Do you really have to hang off me all the fucking time?"

"Jude!" Finn admonished, always ready to be Mikey's grand protector.

"Oh, fuck off, Finn," I replied, resting my chin on my folded arms on the cafeteria table.

"Who are you talking to?" Mikey whispered to me.

I gave him a harsh glare. "I am not in the mood for bullshit, alright?"

"Jude," Finn repeated, giving me a troubled look and shaking his head.

"Shut the fuck up. Both of you. Everyone." I buried my head in my arms and stayed that way, shrugging Mikey's hand off when he touched my shoulder.

I was still sitting there, hiding from the world, when the bell rang. I didn't move. It was so hard to be alone at school, and that often resulted in me feeling cornered and irritable. I heard Finn stand and leave a few minutes after everyone else had cleared out of the cafeteria. Mikey remained seated on my left, silent and still.

Slowly, the inevitable guilt sank in. I could be an asshole all I liked to everyone else, and I didn't care that I was, but this was not acceptable. These were my friends. My only two friends in the world. Mikey was probably the best friend I'd ever had. No, he definitely was. It wasn't okay to treat him that way.

Slowly, I raised my head and turned to Mikey. "The bell went."

"I know," Mikey replied, watching me calmly, steadily.

"That means you go to class."

"You didn't go," Mikey countered.

"Yes, well, I needed time out," I said. We were silent for a moment. "I'm sorry."

"What for?" Mikey asked, as though it wasn't obvious what I would have to be sorry about.

"For snapping at you. I wasn't angry at you, I was just being a bitch."

Mikey shrugged and gave me a small smile. "I know."

"And that's not okay," I said.

He thought things over for a moment. "No..." he said slowly. "It's not a good way to behave. But you feel bad, don't you?"

I nodded.

"So maybe if you didn't feel bad about it," he continued, "then I might be a bit angry. But you feel sorry so why should I?"

"It's the natural order of things," I said. "If someone's a dick, you get pissy at them."

Mikey smiled and rested his chin on his hands. "I like my order of things better."

4.

There were boys throwing rocks at a bird with a broken wing. Finn couldn't imagine how anyone could possibly find amusement in torturing a helpless animal. What did they get out of it? Part of him wanted to go and stop them, but the part that didn't want to get involved won out. This was a new school, and Finn just wanted to stay under the radar.

He was turning to head back into the building when someone swept out of it, past him, and headed down the stairs towards to bird. At first, Finn thought it was a girl, but a moment later he realised his assumption had been incorrect. Despite the longish hair and the pigtails he'd attempted to tie it into, despite the bracelets and the choker and the pink belt, this was definitely a guy. Finn winced, anticipating bloodshed.

The boys paused in throwing their rocks when the boy with the pigtails reached the bird, exchanging hesitant glances with each other. Finn waited. One of them lowered his hand and dropped his rock on the ground, mumbling something to the others. They followed suit, turned, and left. Well, that had been odd. Finn looked down and realised he was now standing on the bottom step heading up to the building. Without making a conscious decision to do so, he had been about to get involved.

The boy was kneeling on the ground, trying to reasure the bird, but every time he got near to it it flapped its wings and dodged away from him. The boy kept trying, patient and undetered. He was kind of cute, actually. Maybe not exactly the kind of guy Finn would have expected to be attracted to, but then, he'd never seen a guy who looked like this one. He didn't look effeminate, just young, though unless he'd skipped a grade he couldn't have been much younger than Finn himself.

Finn wondered if this boy was in his grade. His was the lowest grade there was there, so unless the boy had skipped grades or was a lot older than he looked, he probably was. This boy hadn't been in any of his classes, though - and Finn was becoming increasingly disappointed by this fact the longer he watched the boy - and he was sure he would have noticed if the boy had been.

And then the guy took his shirt off. He took. His. Shirt. Off.

It wasn't like he was muscular or toned or anything - he was what, twelve? - and was in fact rather skinny, but there was something in his bone structure that appealed to Finn in a way he couldn't explain. He saw shirtless guys in changing rooms all the time - hell, fully naked guys, even - but this was different. This boy was a work of art compared to their crude, awkward bodies.

It wasn't until the boy had thrown his shirt over the bird and wrapped it up in it that Finn even bothered to think about why he'd removed the garment. And then the boy was leaving, shirt wrapped tightly around the bird in his arms instead of covering his body, bracelets tinkling when he reached to brush hair out of his eyes. Then he was gone.

Finn looked around him, then down. Everyone else had gone to class, and he was standing alone at the edge of the courtyard. And he had wood. Perfect.

Finn went to class.