Chapter Text
Life was lonely when you had no one to share things with.
Phil was rapidly reaching 518, and for the first time since he came to the mortal world, Philza was bored.
He had watched the mortal world grow and evolve ever since he had first arrived in 1736. Philza had watched as the world's population grew along with their knowledge of the place that they lived in. He watched as some of the first people gained magic as people from his homeworld explored this one and fell in love its inhabitants. Philza had watched as mortals grew in technological advances in leaps and strides. He had watched wars that were waged over stupid things, had witnessed lives be taken over petty and idiotic ideals, watched as people pretended to have all the power in the world and try to play God with that "power".
And as entertaining as it was to both watch and sometimes aid the mortals he watched, Phil had finally felt as if he had nothing to do or anyone hold close.
Philza wasn't one to fall in love and he had never felt any sort of romantic attraction towards anyone, so finding a partner was practically out of the question for him.
He was experiencing empty nest syndrome, and Phil knew it.
He had considered adoption once, but he felt as if it was unfair to do to a child and to himself. Especially since Phil knew one day he would have to bear witness to that child dying thanks to the elongated life span that he had.
Phil was watching the sun rise from on top of his roof, a mug of lukewarm tea in his hands as he watched the crimson ball of heat slowly begin to rise over the horizon and the trees. After he enjoyed his cup of tea, Phil got up and stretched his huge ebony wings. He did a few test flaps before jumping off the roof and gliding down to the earth below him.
Today was market day, where Phil would get out of his little country abode he had made so many years ago and go to town. Mainly he would go to the little town that was a good five to ten minute flight away from his house, get the supplies he needed for himself and his house, possibly even sell a few things, and then head back until his next needed trip.
Phil went around his house and gathered what he planned on selling in the market place. He had several jars of honey from his bees that he was going to sell to the local coffee shop and one of the restaurants in the town that made a killer honey cheesecake and a bunch of flowers from his garden to sell to the local florists.
He never had many animals. The few animals that Phil did have was a horse named Mr. Bones because when Phil had gotten him, you could see the poor thing's bones through its skin. The other animals that Phil had didn't even feel like pets. The mass murder (of crows) that constantly followed him practically everywhere he went that he had nicknamed “Chat”. Phil still doesn't understand how he managed to earn the favor of more than an entire flock of crows. Some of the crows could speak a few words or phrases, probably picking up the words Phil spoke to himself when he worked outside. Some of the crows in Chat would leave Phil little gifts. Sometimes these gifts were a straw, a bolt, many buttons, feathers, and every now and then, a few pence of change that someone must have dropped. Once he got a whole quid as a gift from one of the crows.
As Phil got his stuff together, a few of the crows flew down to see what he was doing. Phil smirked as he felt the crow's eyes watch him get things ready to go to market. Some of them clicked and cawed at him, asking both him and the others what Phil was doing. Phil cawed back at the crows, laughing as he saw the startlement amongst the crows that he could talk back to them in their own language. This caused very loud caws as the crows took flight, running back to the safety of Chat, causing Phil to laugh harder.
He quickly put everything he planned on taking in his satchel and slung it over his shoulder. Phil grabbed his stripped bucket hat and quickly got ready for flight. He took off and found a nice gliding altitude. Phil enjoyed flying with every fiber of his being. It relived him of all his stress and worries, leaving all those negative thoughts and feelings down below on the ground.
Phil quickly arrived at the town, landing right outside the market. He had learned the hard way that no matter the gifts you bring, no one likes you descending down from the sky like a 180 pound pigeon. Phil walked into the market place, quickly scanning over the stalls and stands that offered goods and trinkets.
As Phil walked, he spotted a familiar set of golden brown wings he hadn't seen in a long time. He made no waste and began planning on how to quietly sneak up behind the person. Soon, Philza had creeped up behind his friend and shouted "BOO", startling his friend.
"What the hell- oh I should have known it was you," the fellow avian said, clutching his chest as he turned around to face Philza.
"Tarron Oakgrove, you know better than anyone that you can't escape a sneak attack from the stealth master," Phil joked as Tarron tried to calm down his heart.
"Anyways, who or what do I owe the pleasure of being scared half to death by the 'stealth master'?" Tarron joked, using air quotes when using Philza's fake title.
"Came to sell thing, buy supplies, trying to keep my mind off of my latest empty nest episode that's been happening," Phil said as they both began to walk.
"Ah, empty nest syndrome. Ever the pain in a lone avian's side, tsk tsk tsk ," Tarron shamed the instinct. "I'm lucky I have a husband, so I no longer have to suffer like you do."
Philza rolled his eyes as he remembered his friend's husband, Luan. Loud, enthusiastic, smart, and had a keen sense for adventure, perfect for Tarron. As they walked and chatted, the winged pair stopped by the restaurant that Phil needed to make one of his deliveries to.
"Do you mind that we stop by this place real quick? I need to drop off this honey," Phil said, gesturing to his satchel.
"Not at all, I planned on meeting up with Luan for lunch here anyways," Tarron replied. “Do you want to join us?”
“Oh no, I wouldn’t want to impose,” Phil answered, both avians walking into the restaurant.
“Please Phil!” Tarron insisted. “Besides, when was the last time you interacted with another person, and no, market trips don’t count.”
Phil sighed in defeat. He knew that there was no way of getting out of this so Phil decided to roll with it.
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Soon after both avians were situated, a young coyote hybrid walked in and joined the two avians.
"Hey Phil! Long time no see! How ya doing mate?" Luan said as he sat himself next to his husband.
"Eh, currently suffering from empty nest syndrome, so, you know," Phil replied, making a referencing gesture with his hand. "Anyways, how are you?"
"I'm sorry. I'm doing quite well, actually. My application and review to be able to go to you and Tarron's world without worrying that my temporary pass will boot me out as soon as my allotted time is up!" Luan exclaimed, his tail thumping wildly, which caused a few heads to turn their way. Luan quickly silenced himself.
"That's great mate! I'm so happy for you two," Phil smiled, glancing between the two.
"Yup, now we can go on even more adventures and don't have to worry about cutting them short," Tarron added.
"Perhaps we can go on a proper honeymoon now," Luan joked. Laughter erupted from everyone at the table.
After everyone ordered and ate, they talked while they waited to pay.
"So you mentioned empty nest syndrome earlier, and I know how you don't really feel romantic love, have you ever thought about adopting?" Luan inquired.
"Yes but I don't think I can handle watching my kid grow old and die. I was gifted an extended lifespan, which means I live around the same as a Totem," Phil responded.
"What's a Totem," Luan asked.
"I understand, and don't worry you'll learn," Tarron replied to Luan, giving him an acknowledging nod.
An awkward atmosphere filled the silence between the three before Luan snapped his fingers, having an idea.
“What if instead of adopting, you foster a kid?” Luan suggested. “You wouldn’t be adopting a kid, you’d just taking care of them until they become an adult and age out of the system or until they go to a different foster home.”
Phil pondered this idea. It would work with his long lifespan, plus he had an abundance of empty rooms in his house and plenty of time.
“That . . . could actually work. Great idea, Luan,” Phil complemented.
“Thanks mate!” Luan responded.
“Not the sharpest sword in the armory, but when you have good ideas, they are absolutely brilliant,” Tarron said, complementing his blushing husband.
Soon the bill was brought to the table. Phil fought the two on paying for lunch, but Tarron and Luan eventually won by paying before Phil could hand the waiter the money. The trio parted ways, Luan and Tarron going off to enjoy the rest of their day and Phil to run the rest of his errands before returning to his home.
Phil knew he had lots of work to do if he was probably going to foster a kid, and he honestly couldn’t wait.
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It had been seven months since Philza had applied to be a foster parent. One month since one of their inspector people came to his house to make sure everything was up to code and a livable condition to keep a child.
Phil had picked up advice books and read articles written by foster parents and children who were once in the system. He had cleaned out the guest bedrooms and spare rooms he had in his house. Cleaned up and fixed things outside where an oblivious or clumsy kid wouldn’t get hurt or in trouble.
Phil had always considered himself a patient man, but the waiting was gnawing him up from the inside out. It was 10:03 at night and Phil was pacing in his living room around his coffee table. He already eaten and showered, but the thought of possibly getting the phone call he desperately waited for everyday practically wreaked his nerves. Phil decided that if he ever got the call, he would want to be well rested, or at least somewhat rested, so he headed off to bed.
Around 1:42 AM, Phil’s phone rang. Groggily, he reached for the phone, answering the call, not bothering to check the number.
“Hello,” Phil asked the unknown caller, stretching slightly. ‘Who would call anyone this late at night?’ he mentally asked himself.
“Hello, is this Phillip Craft,” The caller questioned.
“Yes, this is he,” Phil said with a slight yawn, sitting up and stretching his wings a bit.
“Hello Phillip. My name is Sarah Walters, I’m a social worker and I work for the foster care facility you signed up for,” Sarah said. Philza nearly dropped his phone.
“We know that your name isn’t on the list for emergency placements for kids, but none of the other emergency placement houses are picking up and so far you are the only person who has picked up,” Sarah said, sounding as if she was reading from a scripted sheet she had memorized dozens of times and had been forced to read. “It’s only one kid and he just needs a place to stay for a day or so before we move him to a better house.”
“Um, that’s perfectly fine,” Phil replied, trying to trip over his words with excitement.
“We can bring him over now or we can wait to bring him over tomorrow, whatever works better for you,” Sarah resumed.
“You can bring him over tonight if that’s not too much trouble,” Phil requested, hoping he wasn’t pushing his luck.
“Of course, we’ll be at your house in about forty-five,” Sarah replied and promptly hung up the phone.
Phil sat there in his bed for a moment before the shock subsided. Phil scrambled out of bed, quickly trying to make himself look like he didn’t just roll out of bed, even though he just did. He grabbed a hairbrush and quickly ran it through his hair, then began to haphazardly preen his wings, trying to make them look at least decent.
He hurried downstairs and began to try to clean an already tidy house. Phil’s anxiety was at an all time high as he waited for the social worker and the kid to show up. He remembered that Sarah had said ‘he’ which meant he was getting a boy to foster. Although Phil would’ve been happy regardless of gender, he was happier knowing he was getting a boy to look after. Girls were a bit tougher to get through to, but then again so were boys.
As Phil waited, his heart was going a million miles per hour and thoughts were racing through his head. What if he didn’t like the house? What if he didn’t like his room? What if the boy didn’t like him ? Phil paced around his living room as these thoughts ran through his head.
Eventually, he heard a car pull up in his driveway. Suddenly, Phil realized that being in a t-shirt and his pajama pants was possibly not the best attire for first meetings. He waited for the door bell to ring before calmly walking to the door. When Phil opened the door, he was greeted by a blonde woman in a casual attire accompanied by a small, scrawny, slightly dirty brunette kid holding a black backpack.
“Phillip Craft,” Phil could probably presume was Sarah started.
“Yup, that’s me,” Phil replied, glancing at the kid.
“Sarah Walters, good to meet you in person, although I wish they were under better circumstances,” Sarah said, extending a hand which Phil gently shook.
“Me too, please come in,” Phil agreed, stepping aside to let Sarah and the boy in.
“You have a lovely home,” Sarah commented as they walked to the living room.
“Thank you,” He replied bashfully as the social worker and the boy sat on the couch.
“This is William Burr Soot, though he goes by Wilbur. He’s a bit quiet and shy, but once you get him to open up he’s a total chatter box. I currently don’t have Wil’s file on me at the moment but I can swing by and drop it off tomorrow along with some of the papers I need you to sign, we can disclose more information then.”
“That sounds perfectly good to me.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Sarah said, getting up from the couch. “Be good Wilbur, although I know you will. Trust me, this will be a good house.”
The boy, Wilbur, snapped his head up at the social worker when she said his name, giving her a small, weak smile.
Phil walked Sarah to her car, said a few parting words, then she drove off into the night. He walked back inside to see Wilbur still exactly where he was when Sarah had left. Wilbur’s face looked as if all his hope walked out of the door with Sarah.
“I know it’s late and you’re probably tired as all get out, so how about I show you to your room and we can do a proper tour of the house tomorrow after breakfast. How does that sound?” Phil said to Wilbur, Phil’s wings nervously shifting behind him. The boy just nodded his head and prompt got up and followed Phil.
His heart was in his throat. Phil wanted to pinch himself, wanting to believe that this was a dream, his avian instincts going haywire. After he showed Wilbur his room, Phil wished Wilbur goodnight and went to bed himself. It was going to be a long day tomorrow but nothing could stop the unbridled excitement he felt, weather they were brought on by his instincts or if they were his genuine feelings.