Work Text:
Early morning had always held a special charm to Philza. The air was still chilled, even in the warmer months. Once the sun had been out for a few hours, the chill would fade.
The forest was alive with sounds, the birds still chirping their morning songs. Phil's avian hearing allowed him to hear the rustle of animals in the bushes and even the faint sounds of their little heartbeats.
He wasn't just out here to enjoy the sounds of nature. Like the animals, he needed to eat, and feed his son back home. They had other food like potatoes and bread, but it was good to have some sort of meat in their diet, usually rabbit.
Phil's serene morning came to a pause as he let his instincts take over. He tuned out the singing birds, and focused on the rustles, the heartbeats. His footsteps fell near silently as he searched for prey.
He paused by a tree, hearing two heartbeats very close to each other. Judging by the speed, it was probably a couple of squirrels, unaware that danger was nearby. A squirrel wasn't as filling as a rabbit, but they didn't need much.
Phil silently crouched by the tree. When one of the squirrels ran out of hiding, he'd grab it. He would wait to kill it, just in case it was a baby. He didn't like killing baby animals, and Wilbur would yell at him if he did.
He carefully reached out one hand, planning to startle the squirrels into running. He didn't have to wait long.
A bright shape, much smaller than he was expecting, darted out of the bushes. Instincts still high on the hunt, Phil reacted instantly. His hand shot out, wrapping around the very-much-not-a-squirrel before he could even see what it was. He lifted it up to his eye level, careful not to crush it.
Phil's stomach dropped.
Trapped in his loosely clenched fist, wide-eyed and trembling, was a child. Phil loosened his grip further, cupping his hands so the kid didn’t try to jump. He brought the kid up to his eye level, still half convinced he was seeing things.
The kid was still there. He couldn’t be more than seven or eight years old, maybe younger. He was tiny, dirty, and skinny, but he was exactly like a human in everything but size. His shirt might’ve been white once, but it was stained in dirt now. His hair had gone through similar treatment, so matted and filthy it was impossible to tell if it was actually brown or just covered in dirt. The miniscule child had pressed himself as far backwards as he could, back against Phil’s fingers and looked on the verge of tears.
“Hey, mate,” Phil said gently. The poor thing was terrified, and no wonder. Phil had just snatched him up like he was hunting. He had been hunting. Phil knew he tended to be intimidating even to people his own size when he was deep in his hunting instincts, let alone to some poor kid he’d tracked down.
“It’s ok, I’m not going to hurt you,” he soothed softly. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
The terror in the kid’s eyes faded just a little. He was still shaking, but Phil could hear the rapid heartbeat slowing just a little- the heartbeat.
Phil’s eyes went wide as he realized. He’d heard two heartbeats. So was the other also-
A sharp pain pierced his ankle before he could even finish the thought. He hissed, and it was only force of will that kept him from giving into his instincts and lashing out at whatever had hurt him. Instead he slowly turned his head. He found his suspicions were confirmed.
Directly next to his wounded ankle, desperately tugging on a shard of metal that was embedded deep into Phil’s skin, was yet another tiny child.
This kid looked a little older, but just as filthy. When he couldn’t pull what was likely a makeshift sword free, he looked up at Phil. His eyes were brimming with fear, and anger.
“Give him back!” the kid, a few years younger than Wilbur demanded. His voice only shook a little. “Let Tommy go!”
The kid he was holding, Tommy, had apparently spotted his friend, maybe even brother. He was lunging towards the edge of Phil’s hand, and Phil had to readjust to keep him from falling.
“Techno!” the younger kid screamed. “Techno, just run!”
“Tommy!” the stabby one called back, eyes wide and focused on Phil’s hand.
The avian took a deep breath, assessing the situation. Two kids, the oldest barely a teenager, both mere inches tall. They were alone, that much was clear. There was no way someone was caring for them with such bedraggled appearances and sunken cheeks. In a place as dangerous as a wild forest, it was a miracle they were even still alive.
Phil closed his eyes. He was already terrifying them, he knew. But he couldn’t just leave them either. He made a decision, one he hoped was the right one.
Phil shifted Tommy to one hand. With the other, he reached out to the kid on the ground. The kid, Techno, immediately bolted, figuring out Phil’s intentions immediately. He was fast, but Phil was faster. In a flash of movement, Phil had grabbed him as well.
He was a lot more violent than Tommy, kicking and biting at Phil’s fingers. It stung a little, but Phil had felt a lot worse. He didn’t want to drop the kid.
Tommy was crying, reaching for what was probably his brother and screaming obscenities at Phil. Then he was punching at Phil’s fingers, apparently trying to match Techno’s violence.
The avian ignored both of their attacks and brought his hands together as quickly and gently as he could. The second they realized they could, the tiny humans were lunging towards each other, holding onto each other like Phil might physically tear them apart.
“There we go,” Phil muttered. Though their fear was heart wrenching, he was glad to see them reunited. “Back together again.”
“Let us go,” the elder one said, unable to keep the fear out of his voice now.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, mate,” Phil said hesitantly. He could just barely see the blood drain from Techno’s little face beneath all the dirt.
“Please, please, at least let Tommy go,” he begged, desperation on his face. “Please he’s just a kid, don’t hurt him.”
“You’re both kids,” Phil pointed out. “I’m not going to hurt either of you.”
“You were hunting us!” Tommy accused between stifled sobs. “You’re gonna eat us!”
“No,” Phil said calmly. “I’m not going to eat you. Or hurt you in any way. I’m sorry for scaring you like that, I thought you were a couple of squirrels.”
“W-well we’re not,” the younger one said, sounding very uncertain, “so you have to let us go now.”
“No,” Phil said as gently as he could. Tommy turned his face into his older brother(?)’s chest, and the little hitching sobs he could hear made Phil’s heart twist with sympathy. Techno was looking up at him in fear, arms wrapped protectively around Tommy.
“You’re both too young to be out here on your own,” Phil tried to explain. He doubted they would understand at first, but if he was going to be terrifying these kids no matter what, he would at least be as honest as possible. It would take time, but he would prove they could trust him.
“We can take care of ourselves,” Techno snapped, voice hoarse.
“Are you sure, mate?” Phil asked. “I’m sure you’re doing the best you can. But it doesn’t look like you’re getting enough food.”
Techno’s face twisted into something like guilt. No doubt he felt like he was responsible for feeding them both. He shouldn’t have to be. He was thirteen at most. He should be safe and well-fed and happy, not forced to be responsible for another child.
“I know you’re scared, but I’m going to help you both,” Phil promised. He stood slowly so he didn’t jostle the kids.
“You can’t just keep us!” Techno blurted, voice breaking. It was more like ‘forcibly adopt,’ Phil thought darkly. But he thought he understood the kid’s concern.
“No, you’re kids, not pets or items,” Phil agreed. “But I also can’t let you go off on your own to starve or get hurt in the woods.”
There was a small noise. Phil glanced down to see Techno was crying now too. He was trying to hide it, from Phil or Tommy or both, but the irregular shaking of his shoulders was impossible to hide.
“How about this,” Phil said. “I’m taking you two home with me. I’ll get you some food, maybe a bath, and then we can talk, try to find a compromise.”
“What’s that?” Tommy spoke up, voice a little muffled.
“It’s like a deal,” Techno answered softly, surprising Phil. “Like when you want to stay up but it’s bedtime, and I tell you a story first but you still have to go to bed.”
That wasn’t exactly right, but the definition was very good for what was likely a kid who’d never gone to school.
“Very good,” Phil praised, and Techno glanced up at him, looking shocked at the compliment. “I don’t want you to be scared, but I also don’t want you to get hurt. So we can try to find a compromise. Can you live with that?” He was mostly talking to Techno at this point. He wasn’t entirely sure what he’d do if the kid said no. Luckily, Techno seemed to find this an acceptable arrangement. He gave Phil a small nod, and the avian was relieved to hear both of their heartbeats slowly return to a more steady pace.
***
Sixteen was more than old enough to be left at home alone. Wilbur knew how to take care of himself, and he would be fine with Phil gone for a few hours. Getting older meant he didn’t have to go out with Phil to hunt on the chilly mornings. It was something he’d looked forward to.
But… Wilbur sometimes got lonely when Phil was gone. His dad would let him come along, if he asked, but it was embarrassing to admit he didn’t like the empty house. Besides, he was almost an adult. He could survive being alone for a few hours.
It was a little bit of a shock when the door opened earlier than usual. Wilbur jumped, but relaxed when he saw Phil’s frame in the door.
“You’re back a little early,” he called, bouncing over to his dad. “Catch anything we can-”
Wilbur suddenly spotted what was cupped in Phil’s hands, and his question died in his throat. Two tiny, filthy faces stared back at him with wide eyes.
“Phil, what?” he breathed. He automatically reached out to touch them, but froze when the tiny people- tiny kids - flinched away.
“It’s ok,” his dad soothed. “This is just Wilbur. I told you about him on the way here. He won’t hurt you either, I promise.”
“They’re so small,” Wilbur said, absolutely enchanted. Then he laughed, the sound making the kids jump.
“When I said I wanted little brothers, Phil,” he said, and his dad snorted, “this was not what I meant.”
“What’s on your face?” the slightly smaller kid interrupted, pointing at Wilbur. He looked a little nervous, but still curious.
“Tommy,” the older one hissed, looking at Wilbur with far more distrust. Wilbur knelt down, ending up a little lower than eye level to the kids. He felt his face, finding only his glasses there.
“These?” he asked, pulling them off for a moment. The now slightly blurry child, Tommy, nodded, and Wilbur smiled, slipping them back on.
“They’re my glasses. They help me see better. Without them, things are a little bit blurry.”
“C-can I see?” Tommy asked, moving to the edge of Phil’s hand. Wilbur reached out on instinct, worried the kid was going to fall. The older kid reached out at the same time, holding onto Tommy’s arm. Wilbur ended up with his hand extended, close enough that either of the small boys could step on if they wanted.
“If you want to,” Wilbur said with a fond smile. He met eyes with the other kid, who seemed to be searching for something. Whatever it was he must have found it, because when Tommy looked at him for permission, he nodded. Tommy nervously stepped onto Wilbur’s hand.
Wilbur’s eyes went wide with awe at the feeling of someone so tiny in his hand. He slowly cupped his hands together, Tommy staring at his fingers with a mix of amazement and trepidation. Once he felt secure, Wilbur started to slowly bring his hands up to his eyes.
It let Tommy get a closer look at his glasses while simultaneously allowing him a better look at the tiny kid. His eyebrows furrowed with concern. He was way too skinny, and being that covered in dirt couldn’t be healthy. He was starting to see why Phil had brought these kids home.
Tommy reached out and touched the lens of his glasses. It left a smear of dirt, and Wilbur wrinkled his nose.
“You’re a bit dirty,” he said absently, still fascinated by the tiny child. He saw hesitation on Tommy’s face, then a flash of mischief. Suddenly, Tommy reached up and dragged both his hands down Wilbur’s glasses, leaving long streaks of filth. He looked smug, if a little nervous. Wilbur could hear the other kid panicking at his little brother’s actions below.
Wilbur couldn’t stop the cackle from bursting out of his mouth.
“You little gremlin!” he said with a grin, pulling Tommy away from his face. He stole a glance at the older child, whose name he still didn’t know. He looked relieved at Wilbur’s reaction.
“Dad, I think they need baths,” he declared, holding his hand out so Tommy could jump back to Phil’s. His dad looked amused.
“Yeah, that would be a good idea.” Phil turned his attention down to the two tiny kids. “I was going to get you something to eat first, but if your hands are that dirty, a bath first might be a better idea. Tommy? Techno? You ok with that?”
“Bath, then food, then compromise?” the older one, Techno asked. His voice was deeper than Wilbur had expected, and his words were surprising. What twelve(?) year old knew what a compromise was? Phil just looked fond, though.
“Bath, food, compromise,” he agreed. Then he started to carry the tiny kids deeper into the house.
Wilbur felt warmth in his chest. He had a feeling he wasn’t going to be lonely anymore.
***