Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Wilbur ran into the store, rushing to get out of the rain. He knew it was going to rain today. He just hadn't expected it to be so sudden and with so much of it. He was lucky enough to be able to get his guitar in its case before ducking into a nearby store. (He didn't want it to get damaged.) He knew that this store didn't like him, but he wanted to at least get out of the rain for a while before attempting to go to the bakery that did like him.

He did his best to shake out the water in his hair and off his guitar case before getting out of the doorway. He knew that he'd have to keep walking around if he wanted to stay in here, at least for a little bit. He pulled his guitar case onto his back and started to wander around the store. That was the easiest way to make it seem like he was supposed to be here.

By all means, it wasn't a small store. It was pretty big actually, they just had a no homeless people policy, which was really fucking weird and was a hassle to deal with. He would have avoided the place if he could but he needed to get out of the rain before it got worse. He didn't like sleeping or going to the bakery drenched. It could get him sick pretty easily, and that was never fun, considering he didn't have a good way to get medicine. Medicine was much harder to get a hold of.

Wilbur wandered around for a while, probably a good thirty minutes, occasionally picking something up and acting like he was supposed to be there. He was starting to get looks from the staff so he should probably leave soon. By the time the rain stopped, Wilbur picked up a packet of gum. It was the cheapest thing there and would probably distract from the cans of pre-made soup in his jacket pockets. He purchased the gum with some of the coins he'd gotten today and walked out.

Wilbur had no qualms about taking from chains. This would be enough soup for a good week. At least, hopefully. He liked this soup well enough.

The rain was down to light misting, and so Wilbur walked down the street. Phil's bakery was a ways away from here. He didn't need the one guy that was kind to him, knowing he was homeless. He knew how people felt about that and normally it wasn't very positive. Even if Phil would likely be nicer about it, he didn't want to risk it.

The concrete was always better on his feet during the rain. The soles of his boots were nearly worn through and falling apart. Wilbur still wore them despite that. Not that he even had any other shoes he could wear.

The bakery was open as it always was. It was open from around nine in the morning to around 6 in the evening or until they ran out of goods. Which had happened a few times before, they were popular. Wilbur went to visit Phil, and he wasn't able to get in. See, Phil was the type of guy to make a shitty experience even remotely tolerable. He helped him feel better even when the depths of Wilburs brain were jealous of the wings attached to his back.

Phil was at the register just as he always was. His wife would likely be in the back piping icing on cupcakes and cakes, and his son Tommy would be running around somewhere or hanging from the ceiling after flying into the rafters. Techno, his other son, would be either studying or sitting in the corner reading. Neither of the kids were to be seen right at that moment, so he just walked right up to Phil.

Phil looked happy enough to see him, as he hadn't been here in a few days. Wilbur had been busy. That really just meant that Wilbur had been sleeping the days away because it was too warm to do literally anything despite it being October. With his spot being under the bridge of the river, it was much cooler there than it could ever be if he left. Today was simply a break in the sudden heat spell.

"Hey, Wilbur. How are you doing today, mate?" Phil asked, ringing something up without Wilbur even saying anything. He knew almost instantly that Phil was using his owners discount, and he would either have to pay a dollar or whatever pennied price Phil had decided on today.

"I'm doing good. What did you ring up?" Wilbur asked, attempting to look around at the register.

"Ah, no. You'll see. You don't owe me anything today. It's raining." Phil said, glancing outside where the rain had picked up once more. "I'm honestly surprised you aren't more soaked."

"I was walking while it was misting." Wilbur shrugged. Phil knew he walked everywhere. He was honestly a little surprised that Phil had yet to pick up on the fact that he was homeless.

"Alright, well, do you wanna take a seat? Not too many people are here right now, I might be able to talk a bit to you." Phil said.

"That'd be nice." Wilbur smiled, moving to the booth he usually sat in. Which was coincidentally the same one Techno was usually in and he was there today. He hadn't noticed him when he walked in.

It was probably a little depressing that his only two friends were the bakery owner and his son, but to be honest, Wilbur couldn't care less. They were nice people. Techno was reading, per expectation, taking sips of the drink he had. He wasn't sure what it was, but it was pink today like his hair.

"Hey Will." Techno murmured, not bothering to look up from his book.

See, the strange thing about Techno and him was that, according to Tommy, they looked alike. He didn't see it, but maybe that's because he looked older than he was. Being homeless and in constant stress did that to you. He liked to think that if he ever had the chance to properly get all the dirt off his face, they'd have similar facial features. He couldn't go very long without getting another layer of dirt on him, though. He really didn't get how Tommy thought they looked similar.

The one major difference was the pink and gray wings attached to Technos back. They looked close to a rose finches' wings. He'd wandered over to the library one day and looked it up because he was curious.

"Whatcha reading?" Wilbur asked.

"Frankenstein. It's for class." Techno turned a page. "Or at least it will be."

"Ah, yes. AP English. I don't know why you'd do that to yourself." Wilbur honestly couldn't be talking. He didn't really get past freshman year of high school. He got to the middle of last summer before the whole argument went down. That had not been a fun day and he'd yet to be invited back to the house.

"I don't know what it was like when you took it, but it can't be that different, can it?" Techno asked, briefly looking up at him.

He'd nearly forgotten that most of Technos family was convinced he was in college and broke. Something he hadn't said they'd just assumed. He was broke just for a different reason than they assumed. No harm in thinking that.

"I suppose not, but it's not fun." Wilbur had no clue what the fuck happened in that class. He could only guess.

"Well, it's too late to change my classes, and I like it." Techno said, finally shutting his book so they could have a proper conversation.

Wilbur nodded along like he totally knew what was going on. Techno looked tired despite it only being a couple months into the school year which was hilarious to him. It was probably the other thing that set them apart. Besides, no one other than Tommy saw the similarities and the kid was ten. Ten year olds were stupid sometimes. Wilbur knew that for a fact. After all he'd been ten once before.

A plate with an eclair got placed on the table alongside what looked like pink lemonade. Likely what Techno was drinking as well now that he thought about it.

Phil slid into the booth beside Wilbur as Techno didn't like people sitting next to him and besides He didn't mind. It wasn't like Wilbur was going to just get up and leave immediately. It was raining pretty badly. He didn't want to be out in that. He'd welcome any and all conversation that kept him inside.

That and the eclairs were really fucking good. He wasn't normally here early enough to get one, but it must've been a pretty slow day because of the rain and cooler weather.

He and Phil chatted for a while. Mostly about various things that he found interesting and Techno had gotten started on some fact that he'd messed up and was now explaining the correct way. So now he was learning about some obscure Greek hero. Phil did have to go back to work so it was just him and Techno sitting and talking for a while. It was nice, he enjoyed talking to someone his age for once.

His eclair was already gone, but he was still sipping on his lemonade by the time the rain began to let up and the sun came back out. Which meant he could leave if he wanted. Techno seemed pretty done with people by then so he bid him a goodbye and waved to Phil before he left.

Per usual, Wilbur got a pang of loneliness when he left. It was pretty common. It was like the pang of jealousy he felt when he saw them all use their wings to do various things like give each other hugs or shove someone away. Even when he saw Tommy using them to fly up into the rafters. He knew it was likely because of the recessive avian genes he had, but he'd simply been born without wings. There wasn't something he could do about that. Sure, lots of people got them out of circumstance but he would never be in one that required wings.

These were just the cards he'd been handed. They were shitty cards but he could manage it.

He walked for a while, and then crossed the bridge over the river that split the city in half. He got to the other side of town and then walked down towards the river, moving under it with ease. It was cooler down here, much cooler. He didn't like being here, so close to the ground but he couldn't do anything about that. It was a good spot to live in because it was hidden from the weather.

The little amount of instincts he got were so stupid. He'd honestly rather have none than the little he had. What was the point of having them when he was never going to grow wings like some people with recessive genes?

He sat down on the concrete sighing. The tarp kept the sun out in the morning and the evenings, but otherwise it was all in the shade. That was a nice enough gift that the world had given him. It was winter where it got difficult. Wilbur took his guitar off his back and took it out. Not to play, but to gather the money that had been in the case. He started to count it up so he could know how much he made today.

The total was about 12 dollars and 34 cents. Not bad for a couple of hours of playing. It certainly could've gone better but it also could've gone worse. He could've gotten mugged again. That hadn't been a fun day, but he was lucky he didn't have much money on him.

He stretched his back and put his guitar back in the case. That had been his literal lifesaver.

Sometimes he thought about the day he left home and never looked back. Scratch that, he thought about it a lot. It was nothing new to him. An argument he'd run through his head a million times before. He wondered if things had gone differently today that he wouldn't be here. He wouldn't have been thrown out for being a defective avian that never grew wings like his mother and father had wanted.

For one he wouldn't have learned that he didn't exist. Not legally. He wasn't his parents' kid, and they'd taken him from the hospital because they wanted an avian kid. There was probably some trauma there to make them do that, but he was never told. Wilbur liked to think that his life might have been better if he'd stayed clueless, but then he would've never been able to meet Phil and Techno.

It wasn't worth thinking over again right now. He would just make himself sad again knowing that years of his life were a lie.

Wilbur took the soup cans out of his pocket and placed them on his stack of soup cans. Which was really only one can of soup, some sort of vegetable filled broth that he really liked.

He sighed again. Time for another fruitless attempt at sleep.

Going to Phil's bakery was some sort of a routine for Wilbur. He was in there a few times a week, oftentimes more. Sometimes he paid, sometimes he didn't. Sometimes he played music, and sometimes he just sat and talked with his favorite people in the entire world. It was nice to just relax and forget the elements outside trying to kill him. Whether that be too hot, cold, or rainy.

Today was different though. It was his birthday. He hadn't realized it was until he saw the printed note on the door saying that they were going to be closed today as it was a family owned establishment and that November 16th was someone else's birthday other than his.

Technos birthday.

That was funny. He and Techno had the same birthday. He wondered how that never came up. It was a little funny.

He supposed the only people he might have celebrated it with were Phil and them anyways. Wilbur didn't really mind. He didn't care much for birthdays. He never really did anything on them regardless of where he was. It was too hard on him mentally, and he'd never really known why.

It was just hard to believe that it was his second birthday on the streets, even if it had only been a year and a few months.

"Right." Wilbur muttered, turning away from the storefront.

Despite the fact that he didn't care about his birthday, it still hurt somehow. He wanted to at least celebrate Technos' birthday. He was his friend, after all. Even if Techno was a more private person who likely would've just celebrated with his family, if at all. He still wanted to at least wish him a happy birthday.

He already barely got to talk to the guy since the school year started back up. The Frankenstein book day had been ages ago, and Techno had only been getting more homework since then. Since it was Saturday, he'd been wanting to talk to them again like they all used to. He supposed that it wasn't anything too different from normal. He was used to spending birthdays alone. It somehow hurt a little this year and he wasn't sure why.

He walked back to the park where he had been most of the morning. He'd made a good haul this morning. Almost twenty bucks. It was pretty cool now weather wise, as the heat spell had come and gone, and it made Wilbur wonder if he could pull off an afternoon session. He had the callouses for it, so it wouldn't hurt his hands, and having some more cash would be nice. He just might be a little more tired than usual.

He did want to pay Phil back at some point. That would be a long time in the future, though. Not a problem now. Right now the money was for surviving.

As Wilbur sat back down on a bench that he'd left not half an hour ago, he wondered distantly that because he had forged identification papers if he could even get a job or if that would be illegal. He didn't even know his social security number, so it wasn't like he could if anyone wanted to hire him. (His parents had most definitely made him illegal papers to make it seem like he was theirs.)

He started to tune his guitar again, ignoring the urges to look at anything that remotely shined in his direction. He was very good at getting distracted by shiny things as all the birds did. Some avians were particularly prone to that. He supposed if he were to grow wings, he'd be one of those.

He was good at playing to both anyone and no one. There were a lot of people in the area today. That's probably why today he'd gotten more money than expected. He might be able to buy himself a good, hot meal tonight. That would be pretty nice. He'd been wanting something other than slightly warm soup. Maybe a nice grilled cheese sandwich.

It was just a little suspicious the amount of cash he had, so he did have to be careful when making purchases. Particularly the fact that most of it was coins. It made him look like he had robbed a fountain.

"Wilbur?" Someone asked.

Wilbur looked up from where he was strumming. A tune he'd made up himself to tune his guitar.

Holy shit, it was just the people he'd been wanting to see. Techno, Phil, Kristin, and Tommy. All of them. They were all here somehow. He grinned.

"Techno, hey. Happy birthday, dude." He said, hanging his hands over his guitar.

"Thanks. What are you doin' out here?" Techno asked, studying his guitar and where he was sitting.

"Playing. I was bored." Wilbur shrugged. He wasn't really bored but he did love doing this.

"Oh, you should come have cake with us." Kristin said, smiling warmly at him. It had been a while since he'd been able to see her, but she looked like she was doing well. Her dark purple wings looked as shiny and well kept as ever. He never figured out what bird she seemed the most like.

Wilbur blinked. He did like free food, but at the same time, as much as he wanted to hang out with them, that felt a bit too much, like intruding on their space. He already spent a lot of time with them in their bakery.

"I wouldn't want to intrude." Wilbur said, even if he could see Techno already roll his eyes.

"You would've been invited if we could contact you, you idiot." Techno huffed. "C'mon. The house is within walkin' distance."

Phil snorted at that, and Tommy ran ahead towards the playground, red wings flailing behind him, pulling Kristin with him. Then it was just him, Techno, and Phil as it usually was.

He went with them after mulling it over. It wasn't really a hard decision. Heating and food? Wonderful. Wilbur packed up his guitar even though he'd just tuned it and put it on his back, walking beside Techno and Phil back to their house.

He'd thought that maybe they would've flown there, but apparently flying took much more effort than he thought it did, and it was nice to just walk sometimes. Or at least Techno liked to walk places. Which was fair. Wilbur also liked walking places, but he didn't really have a choice in that.

Tommy kept picking up random bugs, red wings akin to a cardinal flapping behind him whenever he did. Kristin had to stop him from eating them, and Phil picked up the shiny things on the sidewalk. Which consisted of a bottle cap, a dime, and a few washers. He wasn't sure where the washers came from, but he wasn't going to question what machine broke down. It took almost everything in him not to ask for one of the things. He did, however, discreetly pick up a shiny rock that caught his eye.

He didn't have wings. He didn't reserve the right to listen to his instincts. Rocks were the only exception.

In the end, by the time they made it to Phil's house, Wilbur was messing with the rock he put in his pocket.

The house was bigger than Wilbur was expecting for people who owned a bakery. Two stories tall, with a nice sized yard. It was interesting, and then he was let inside and saw that it likely wasn't fully two stories, but just had rather tall ceilings so nobody would feel cramped, much like the bakery was. Avians didn't like to be in cramped spaces. It helped calm him down.

The cake was fantastic, as Wilbur had been anticipating and he had fun. He was pretty sure he'd laughed more today than he had in a while. Tommy was beating all their asses at Mario Kart despite the fact that Techno kept sabotaging him by putting his wings in front of Tommy's face. Techno found that hilarious. Tommy just kept moving around the room and getting away from his older brother's wings.

In all honesty, it was pretty easy to forget that it was technically his birthday as well. He was pretty focused on celebrating his friend. Which was fine by him. He didn't like his birthday very much, but if it was also Technos, he was fine with that. Techno deserved to have a good birthday.

It was hard to believe that he was seventeen.

"Y'know. Wilbur, when's your birthday?" Tommy asked, looking back at him from where he was draped over the side of the loveseat. Somehow he was still beating their asses at Mario Kart like that.

The ten-year-old had asked the one question he didn't want to answer. Yet, Wilbur was both a terrible liar and tired, so he accidentally told the truth.

"Today, actually." Wilbur said, finally crashing into Tommy's kart and at least getting him off the road for a second.

"Wait, what?" Techno asked incredulously.

If they weren't in the middle of a life or death match of desperately trying to beat Tommy, Wilbur knew that Techno would be staring at him like he was insane for not telling them that.

"Seriously?" Phil asked from somewhere behind him. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I don't really celebrate." He shrugged and knocked Tommy's kart off the map again with a well placed banana.

"Why?" Tommy asked.

"Never really have. I just don't care about it all that much." There had always been a feeling of loneliness on his birthdays. No matter how many friends from school were there. It had always just felt like a lonely affair so he didn't deal with it. It felt different with these guys though. Like the instinct driven part of his brain liked being around them enough to want to celebrate.

"Why? It's your birthday." Techno argued, nearly getting blue-shelled by Tommy.

"I'm gonna be honest, I didn't even register that it was my birthday until a few hours ago. I just never cared about it." Wilbur said, having a cannon shoot past him and hit Tommy, allowing Techno to pull ahead of both of them.

"You forgot your own birthday?" Techno asked, hitting all the speed bumps, desperately trying to avoid the shells that Tommy had sent at him.

"It's really easy to do." Wilbur huffed, managing to knock both himself and Tommy off the map.

"I guess, but your parents didn't celebrate with you?"

"They tried. I was just never that into it." Wilbur said, as the game finishing sound echoed through the living room. With Tommy not crossing the finish line for once.

"YES!" Techno shouted, throwing his hands up in the air. The only game that Tommy hadn't won all afternoon.

"This is getting boring." Tommy complained.

Techno moved his controller to go another round, "You're just sayin' that because you finally lost."

"You guys are teaming up on me." Tommy complained, moving around so that he was no longer hanging upside down and looking at the TV screen.

"Yeah." Wilbur said. "You were winning too much."

"Dad, They're bullying me." Tommy complained again.

There was no response from Phil so he glanced behind him to see that Phil was no longer in the kitchen as he had been. Which was weird. He must've been in the bathroom or something. Or maybe he went to go get something.

Wilbur clicked on yes to confirm that he was going to continue using Yoshi and the kart he had. He also knew how Phil worked. He better not have been going to get Wilbur a birthday present. He's pretty sure he'd feel horrible if they did something like that for him. They already lost so much money on him, this would only make him feel worse. He didn't need any birthday presents.

Actually, he'd probably overstayed his welcome, and he needed to leave before sunset. Because, then they'd offer to drive him to his dorm because it was dark out and his web of lies would be unraveled. He really didn't want to lose the few kind people in his life. They probably wouldn't mind that he was technically homeless but he didn't want to take anymore from them. He'd feel bad if he did.

Was there a good way to get out of this? There didn't seem to be.

Something rumbled and Wilbur glanced outside. It looked like it was about to rain. Shit, he did need to get out of here then. Before it started to rain but the round had started so he'd have to wait until after. He got third place as expected. He'd gotten second a couple of times but had been losing a majority of the time. He was just excited to be playing video games. He hadn't gotten to do that in a long time.

He heard the rain begin to start and he knew he was doomed. Maybe he could get them to drop him off at the apartments nearby if they insisted on driving him. Most avians had cars or used public transport when it rained. It could rain a lot here sometimes. Or they might even insist on him staying the night and that terrified him more. He wasn't sure why.

With how hard it was coming down, he had a feeling he might not even leave. It was one of those storms that left people without power from just the sound of the rain. Hopefully, the river wouldn't wash his stuff away. He was happy that he had his guitar on him because if that got swept away, he wasn't sure what he'd do.

The rain made the lights flicker and they decided to switch to a lower stakes game for if the power did go out. If you could call Super Smash Bros less competitive. Wilbur didn't really think you could. If anything, Techno and Tommy seemed to be at each other's throats more than before.

Phil had returned at some point and made dinner. Kristin had something else and Wilbur was pretty sure they'd implied that He was going to stay for dinner. Which was nice of them. He liked spaghetti, and it was really good to be honest. Then he learned that Phil knew how to make pasta as well alongside bread. The guy was just hoarding all the cooking abilities. That couldn't be fair.

Techno had apparently gotten his gifts in the morning, which was why he was confused when Phil pulled out and handed over a bag with tissue paper on top. Certainly Techno had gotten everything already, but then it was placed in front of him. Surely they hadn't gotten him something. Is this where Phil had gone? Why would they have gotten him something?

Techno seemed amused by his shock, so he was glad someone was having fun. Tommy just seemed excited to see what it was. Phil and Kristin likely hadn't been able to tell anyone, so this would be a surprise to them all.

Wilbur looked at Phil and Kristin, "I can't accept this."

"Wilbur," Phil chided, his wings shaking, "If it's your birthday. We're going to get you something."

"It is a little last minute though, so forgive us." Kristin added, hanging onto Phil's shoulder and watching him cautiously pick up one of the things of tissue paper.

He couldn't even fathom what it could be, but he removed the tissue paper and there was something yellow in the bag. He reached in and his hands met fabric. Not the scratchy kind of knitted wool, but rather one that was likely made of a mix of synthetic fibers and wool and felt so much better than just woolen threads, while still keeping you warm. He liked this type of fabric.

Wilbur pulled it out and in his hands was a sweater, much like the one he wore when it started getting cold out, just much brighter and less of a mess. It was new, and subsequently bigger as everyone knew sweaters were more comfortable that way. It wouldn't squeeze at him when he wore it which was always the worst part. Phil and Kristin had unintentionally gotten him one that he could grow into and wear for a couple more years.

He'd been given a good quality, new yellow sweater. These people were so kind.

Wilbur hadn't really realized that there were tears in his eyes until he had to wipe them away, "Thank you."

It was more of a whisper, but they both seemed to get the message. They had warm smiles on even if their eyes looked saddened that he'd gotten emotional over someone caring enough about him to just go out and get him a birthday present at a moment's notice like that.

"Don't cry." Tommy said, poking him in the side. "That's lame."

Wilbur snorted. That was pretty lame of him. He managed to get most of his tears to stay in his eyes and folded the bag up so it could be used again.

He ended up staying far past the time he intended to stay. It was almost ten when he even entertained the idea of leaving to go back to his bridge home again and they were back to playing video games. Tommy had passed out at least an hour ago, with Phil taking him up to his nest-bed. Wilbur and Techno were still downstairs, playing on the game system connected to the TV. They'd moved on from Mario and Smash Bros to Minecraft. He liked it.

Dual-screen wasn't the best for playing minecraft according to Techno but it would be fine enough for now. The other option was to play some other game, but they couldn't touch it as it was Phil's old account and it had some absurd amount of game records on it.

In all honesty, Wilbur was getting a little tired. He hadn't been this comfortable in a long time. Even at his parents house, he'd felt uncomfortable at times, and yet here he felt perfectly at ease. Like he fit in just right. Maybe it was because he had some avian genes. That would make sense. (His instincts didn't ever make any sense.)

"Hey, Techno, have your wings been preened the last couple of days?" Phil asked from wherever he was in the room. Kristin had already gone to sleep as she was tired from the day, or at least that's what Wilbur assumed.

"Ah, no." Techno murmured, beginning to move his character towards the house they'd already built and blocking himself in it before setting down his controller.

Wilbur had moved to the loveseat that Tommy had been on a while ago so he could see the TV better and could subsequently see when Phil sat down to start preening Technos wings.

He knew that avians did this every day or two but he'd never actually seen it because it was a private thing usually. He'd read somewhere it was usually just done with family or close friends. He pretended to continue playing minecraft, but he kept sneaking glances at Phil straightening Technos feathers and flicking dirt out of some of them.

There was something so entrancing about it. He didn't know how to describe it. He just felt compelled to watch it, and maybe have the same happen to him. Which was probably a sign he should get out of here. Wilbur didn't have wings and even if he had recessive genes, there was no way he'd get them now. He'd probably overstayed his welcome if they were preening their wings now, but maybe that meant they were comfortable enough to be around him when preening. He didn't really know how it all worked when it came to instincts and shit.

He just had the love of shiny shit and the discomfort when the ceiling was too low.

Eventually, he forced himself to look away completely and focus on the minecraft game at hand. He remembered that he had an account when he was younger, and every time, no matter what, he'd get an elytra. It didn't matter if the dragon killed him a million times, his only goal, every single time once the end update came out, was to get an elytra. Maybe that said a lot about his want to fly up high like the avians that had wings, but it wasn't like he could just grow a pair of wings.

He could have wings in the digital world. That was enough for him. He didn't need to be jealous over his friends' wings again.

"Hey, Wilbur, it's late and it's still raining. You should probably stay the night." Phil said from where he was sitting.

Wilbur glanced at him, not truly processing what he'd said for a second. Had Phil seriously just offered that? He couldn't take anymore from this family. He really couldn't but he had the feeling that Phil wasn't really asking if he wanted to say, he was more saying he was going to because it would be dangerous to go out in the rain at night and walk halfway across town. He wondered if that had been Phil's plan the entire time.

"I mean, I guess I could, but I wouldn't want to intrude." Wilbur said.

"If you were intruding, you would've left a long time ago." Techno said, finally moving his character around again, and Wilbur assumed that the preening of his wings was done.

He wasn't sure how to feel about constantly taking up this family's resources, but it wasn't like he had a choice right now. Phil usually got what he wanted one way or another when it came to giving Wilbur stuff. He'd manage it somehow no matter what.

"I don't mind, Wilbur. This place is always open to you if you need somewhere to stay." Phil said, ruffling his hair and going down the hall towards where he presumed Phil's room was.

He froze for a second, unsure of how to react to that. Both the ruffling of his hair and the fact that he'd been offered a place to stay if he needed to. He'd soaked up so much of the family's things that he hadn't even considered the possibility that they were fine with that. Surely they couldn't be.

Surely, they didn't actually want him around, and yet he was pretty sure that most normal people didn't do this. Phil was increasingly kind to him, and he just didn't understand that. How could someone be kind enough to offer him a place to stay? Just like that.

"You good?" Techno asked, and Wilbur snapped out of it.

"Yeah." He moved his character around again and continued to mine the coal ore he'd found earlier, "Yeah, I'm fine."

This was fine. This was totally fine.

They did have to shut it off eventually and go to bed. Not before Techno showed him the guest room and the bathroom. Where he got the offer of a shower. Which he was definitely going to take, and since he wasn't that tired now. He'd gotten antsy after Phils offer of him staying here. He was probably going to take that shower now so he'd feel better

Wilbur did sit down in the guest room for a moment, marveling at the feel of the sheets and the mattress. The mattress he'd dragged under the bridge was old and dingy, which was probably why it was on the side of the road, but he didn't mind. It was the little things sometimes. This one felt so much more comfortable than his.

Then he left and headed towards the bathroom. Which was normal but a picture on the wall had caught his eye. It, again, looked normal enough when he looked at it except for the fact that when he looked closer there were two babies in it. Techno and Tommy weren't that close in age at all, and so, naturally, he got curious.

A clearly rudimentary photo taken from a phone or something and then printed out of two babies. Now, Wilbur knew that he and Techno happened to have the same birthday. He'd just thought that was a coincidence. That could happen, and yet he also knew of what his mother had confessed to him the day that he got thrown out and never returned.

That he wasn't her child and that they'd taken him from the hospital as a baby, because they wanted to love an avian baby as he was expected to get his wings soon. That day had never arrived.

But here he was, looking at the picture and seeing the baby pictures that had been hanging up in the living room of the house he grew up in staring back at him. It's not the same one, but the baby looked exactly alike to the one in his house.

Two names were embroidered into the blankets on the babies in the picture.

Techno and William.

And, Techno didn't have wings in this, as if Techno had a recessive gene for avians, just like he did. Which was a hell of a coincidence. It had to be.

Wilburs hand accidently touched the picture, and he snatched his hand back. There was no fucking way.

No. No. No way. He wasn't dealing with this today. He was going to take a shower, go to sleep and freak out about this in the morning.

Besides, it was probably a freak coincidence. He had no clue what had happened to William, for all he knew he could've died as an infant. How would he know? Techno had never mentioned this William guy and Phil hadn't either. None of them had.

And yet, Wilbur had a feeling in his gut that he was the baby in the picture, and he didn't know how to feel about that at all.

Chapter Text

Wilbur couldn't sleep well that night. He stayed up after his shower, clean of all the grime and staring at the ceiling, the walls, the windows, anything trying to ignore the connection he'd made. He kinda hoped he was wrong. He listened to rain hammer away at the window and he had to keep praying that nothing of his had floated down the river. That wouldn't end well for him.

Which was surprisingly the least of his worries right now. The thing at the front of his brain no matter how much he pushed it away was the possibility that Techno was his brother. Not even just brothers, they might actually be twins like Tommy kept joking about. It was freaky and he didn't like to think about it because that meant he was supposed to have wings. He was supposed to get them at some point in his childhood and if he hadn't gotten taken from the hospital then he could've had a normal life. He could've had a normal life with the wings he envied and wanted so badly.

He got up when the rain stopped, slipping into the kitchen as quietly as he could. The clock read five in the morning. It was Sunday. Would they believe that he needed to leave if he just left a note for them to find? He didn't want to just leave, but at the same time he knew if he didn't he was going to get very attached to this family. A family that might be his family and that was scary. He was sure that Phil was fine with him staying here but Wilbur was having a mild mental breakdown right now and he just needed to get out of here as soon as possible.

"What are you doing up?" A voice echoed out through the dark.

Wilbur jumped away from the kitchen counter, whirling around to see Phil standing in the doorway that led to his bedroom. He was standing half in the dark of the hallway and the dim light of the kitchen so he mildly looked like an eldritch horror with the wings behind him and the way his eyes seemed to glow. Phil scared him for a half a second before he realized that it was indeed Phil.

"Couldn't sleep." Wilbur managed to exhale, trying to hide the fact that he definitely had his guitar with him and that he'd been in the process of writing a note to apologize for leaving in the middle of the night. Which was just courtesy.

"Oh, well, I hope the rain didn't keep you up." Phil said, stretching his wings a bit as he walked into the kitchen. He didn't seem to mind that Wilbur was up right now.

"Why are you up?" Wilbur asked, as Phil started to get himself a glass of water.

"Habit. I'm always the first one at the bakery. I'm usually up around this time." Phil responded, handing him the cup of water.

That was kind of him. Wilbur took a sip as Phil poured his own cup of water. It was then that Phil seemed to register the guitar on his back, eyes narrowing looking at it.

"Are you leaving?" Phil asked. He didn't sound mad. More a mix of confusion and curiosity. As if he couldn't get why Wilbur would try to leave in the middle of the night. Or early morning, he supposed.

"Uhm. I was in the process." Wilbur said, picking at the threads of his jacket. He did not dare mess with anything on his new sweater. He didn't want to damage it.

"Why? It's like five in the morning." Phil said, pointing to the clock. "You can stay as long as you need to, Wilbur."

"I know. I just… I needed to leave. I have this thing I need to do and all that." Wilbur said the lie, rolling off his tongue with ease. He wasn't sure why he lied about having things to do. He never had things to do, and Phil knew that.

"I can always take you if you want." Phil said, his wings twitching behind him.

Wilbur really needed to get out of here. All these wings were messing with his brain, and he couldn't take it. He just needed to be level-headed to get through whatever was going on. He needed to go to his parents' house and talk to them. He needed to maybe ask Phil if Techno had a twin and who the baby in the picture was. He just couldn't handle being in this house any longer than he'd already been here. He couldn't be distracted by the want of wings and the envy that came with it.

"That's nice of you, but I'd rather walk. Genuinely. It helps me clear my head." Wilbur smiled awkwardly.

"Oh, well, then go after the sun's up. It's much too early for that. Let me make you breakfast." Phil said, setting down the cup of water and going to turn on the kitchen lights.

"No, you don't need to." Wilbur said, but Phil had already turned on the lights temporarily blinding him as he winced in the light and blinked a few times before they adjusted. That was never fun. His eyes being sensitive to light was something he figured out a long time ago.

"No, I'm going to. I want to. You are getting breakfast." Phil said, moving the skillet to the stove and getting things out of the fridge. "Now, go sit down or explore the house. Take your pick."

Wilbur opened his mouth to argue because holy shit, this family had given him so many things, but he stopped himself and resigned himself to his fate. He didn't get breakfast a lot, especially a warm one, so he went and sat down on the couch, staring up at the ceiling rafters. He could see the outline of some sort of nest up there and knew almost immediately that was Tommy's doing. The boy loved being up near the ceiling at almost all times. He'd probably be in the rafters more often than not. Wilburs sure of it.

He would've gone back to the guest room and sat down on the bed again, simply because it was that comfortable, but he didn't feel like getting up from the couch right then. That and he was a little worried that Phil would think he just left if he did that, and despite the fact that he wanted to leave, he didn't want to be anxiety-inducing. Phil would not be happy with him if he did that, and he didn't want to upset him.

He found himself back in the corridor at some point before Phil finished cooking whatever he was making. He was stuck staring at the picture he'd seen last night.

Wilbur had promised himself he'd stop thinking about it, and yet he was standing in front of the picture frame once again. He was just so entranced by it. There was something about it that felt familiar. He knew it's because one of the babies looked like his baby photos, but he was really hoping that was a coincidence. They couldn't have been this close the entire time. They would've met at some point through Techno. They were the same age after all.

"Hey, Wilbur." Phil said, from the end of the hallway.

He tore his gaze away from the picture and looked down the hallway. Phil had some sort of food in his hands, so he moved towards him. Phil went around the side of the wall and presumably back towards the kitchen. He was probably just coming to get him to tell him that his breakfast was ready. Phil probably found it weird that he was staring at the picture of his probably dead son. He wasn't going to bring up the fact that he'd been staring either. That was probably disrespectful.

Phil handed him the breakfast sandwich he'd made and had him sit down while Phil started to flip through the TV channels, looking for the news. He didn't know that the news was on at nearly 6 in the morning, but apparently it was. There was near silence from both of them until Wilbur said something. He really isn't sure why he opened his mouth, but he did, so they were having this conversation now.

"Did Techno have a twin?"

Phil was silent for a few seconds, and he could see the hint of grief on his face before it disappeared again. He really shouldn't have asked that. He was so fucking stupid sometimes.

"He did for a few months." Phil said softly.

"What happened to him?" He really shouldn't be encroaching on this subject because most people didn't like when they brought up their likely dead son. Phil certainly shouldn't be answering his questions.

Phil took a deep breath, "He got taken from the hospital. Kidnapped really. He and Techno didn't have the best health as babies, and so we were in and out of the hospital pretty often trying to figure out what was wrong. One day, they looked in the cribs after a test, and at some point, he'd gotten taken. The security cameras showed nothing, and neither did months of searching. The thief disappeared without a trace, and we never saw nor heard of him again."

"Oh. I'm sorry." Wilbur murmured. He hadn't wanted the stories to line up. He had to get out of here now because they did line up.

He could feel his heart starting to race and his breathing speeding up by the minute. He could not wait to get out of here. There was no way that this was happening to him right now. There was no way that the people that his parents had taken him from were the Crafts.

That couldn't be the truth, and yet it probably was, and that was terrifying. It's terrifying that his family was likely within arms reach his entire life, and he'd never known it. Yeah, he knew that there were some discrepancies in the DNA between him and his parents which was why it wasn't entirely surprising when they told him he wasn't theirs, but this was a whole new level. He'd managed to become friends with his family. The actual one that was supposed to raise him, and care for him. The one that they all had wings that he was supposed to have too.

That was absolutely terrifying, and he didn't know whether to feel elated or something else entirely.

"You alright?" Phil asked.

Wilbur looked at Phil and nodded. He could lie about how he was feeling until he left. His parents' house wasn't far from here. He knew where it was, and he knew he could get more information from them. At least, hopefully, he could. He could ask if they knew who they took him from. That would either confirm or deny the whole thing. They could tell him the truth rather than him connecting two stupid dots that might not have been correct.

He had conflicting feelings on what he wanted to do.

The sun rose eventually, and Phil let Wilbur leave, although not without lots of fretting. He almost felt like he had a dad in the moment, and it felt nice. He was going to have to have a lot more time to process that Phil likely was his dad before he told anyone of the thing he figured out. Or maybe he'd just say fuck it, and tell people now. That did mean he'd been missing for almost seventeen years. Definitely a cold case that never got touched on again, so he wasn't sure how many people would believe him.

Phil watched him leave the house. He knew that he did because he could feel the eyes watching him until he turned the corner, heading towards the section of the neighborhood where his parents' house was. He would just go back to the bridge and make sure all his stuff was there, but he'd be damned if he didn't get his brain to rest right now. He needed answers and he could only get them from his parents.

He didn't sleep at all last night, and he was going to get to the bottom of this today. He had the side from Phil, and it all connected. He just needed to know if his parents knew who they had taken him from.

The sun had completely risen by the time he got to his parents' house, marching up the driveway to the dirty front porch. Standing in front of the door, he saw the tell-tale signs they still lived there. The ashtray on the front porch, and the collection of newspapers they never bothered to pick up apparently as Wilbur wasn't here to get them anymore like he usually would. Sunrise was later in winter months, so it was almost eight now, and he knew they'd be up and getting ready for Church. He almost indulged them in the luxury of knocking on the door, but he knew where the emergency key was.

They didn't get that luxury because then they'd just be arguing on the front porch all their business thrown to the world just like that.

He reached under the metal table that held the ashtray and took off the key with a magnet attached to it. He opened the glass door that they never locked and slid the key into the lock of the wooden door behind it.

He opened the door and walked in. It had been a long time since he'd been in here. He saw the same photos on the yellowed walls from years of cigarette smoke in the house. His mother never did quit her habit, but he supposed she wasn't his mother. The same decorations on the wall of various small paintings. A look into the kitchen told him they were as messy as ever and still didn't like cleaning up. Wilbur had cleaned up a lot as a kid.

"Who's here?" Someone, his father, called out as he entered the living room key still in hand.

As always, his father was sitting in front of the TV watching some stupid show while he waited for Mother to come down for breakfast. Only then would they leave. That was always how Sunday mornings worked. He remembered that very well.

His father looked away from the TV long enough to look at him for half a second and then do a double-take, his eyes wide.

One year and four months. It had been a year and four months since the argument. They probably thought he was going to come back long before that, but they couldn't look for him without something else happening. They'd have to admit why he was missing and then they'd lose him forever. To be honest, he wouldn't be surprised if they thought he died already.

His father stood up, and he noticed that he was shorter than before. That was really only because Wilbur was taller. He's sure if he went to the doctor and actually got his height measured, he'd be over six feet tall, and his father definitely wasn't that tall. He'd forgotten that he'd grown.

"Helen." His father called to the back of the house as Wilbur continued to stare at him. Frank stared back, not daring to loosen eye contact, almost seeming as if he did, Wilbur would attack him.

They really had just continued to live their lives as if they hadn't gotten rid of the kid that they stole because they wanted some avian kid, and the glory that came from behind it. Taking care of someone with genes you didn't even know you had. The glory that could happen with that was so great apparently.

"What's wrong?" His mother, Helen, walked in from the back of the house, fixing her earrings. Then she laid eyes on him. Helen was taller than Frank and always had been, but he was still taller than her now. It was a comforting notion somehow.

She looked surprised to see him, but she didn't have the same look of absolute panic and terror that Frank had. She had been the mastermind behind everything. He already knew that though.

"Wilbur. We were expecting you back soon." Helen said simply, acting as if he hadn't been gone for over a year.

"Who did you take me from?" He asked. That's all he wanted to know.

"Oh dear, I thought we were past that." She said, walking up to him, likely wanting to use her height as an intimidation factor but then realized that he was taller than her now. She didn't seem to care all that much about that.

"No, we aren't. Who did you take me from? This is the only reason I'm here, and we both know it." Wilbur scoffed.

Helen rolled her eyes and looked at Frank like he was crazy, "Do you hear this boy? He expects information like that after being gone for a few months."

"A year and four months. Eight days if you need me to go further." Wilbur interjected. He'd done the math last night in his endless hours of thinking and denying it. He knows how long it's been and he's not going to let her lie about anything.

"Well, we're not going to tell you."

"Why? Scared I'll go to the police?" Wilbur asked. He really had never considered that because even if it was for the wrong reasons, these people had still raised him, as crazy as they had been at times. That's probably exactly what they were scared of to be honest.

"Exactly, you're threatening it already." Helen said, grabbing a package of cigarettes and taking one out, lighting it with ease. "We can't have that. We covered our tracks perfectly, and you'd never turn us in, would you dear?"

They got cocky while Wilbur was gone, "All they'd need is my birthday. A missing person's case for a twin."

He made sure to look Helen in the eye when he said that. She paused the drag of her cigarette when he said that. They never told him that he'd been a twin, and Wilbur was prepared to ask directly. Maybe not emotionally but he was prepared to.

"If you want to know. I already have a very good idea of who you took me from, and this is really just me more or less confirming it." Wilbur said, and he swore he could see a hint of irritation in her eyes.

"Really? Frank, should we call his bluff?" Helen asked, blowing out smoke. She really needed to open a fucking window. That smell was putrid. He hated it.

"Well…" Frank was hesitant in his answer. He was alright like that, but a major fucking pushover. "I don't know dear. He's been gone for a while. He might have figured it out. We should handle this with a little more grace. Wilbur, we're glad you're back, but you're going to need to give us a second to adjust."

"Like hell I'm staying here." Wilbur scoffed. "I just want my answers and I'm leaving."

"You could stay. The streets aren't nice. Let us make up the years of lying, alright. We've accepted that you aren't one now. We just need to move on." Frank urged, looking between Helen and him.

"The streets are better than here. Now, are you going to confirm my thoughts or not?" Wilbur asked, pointing at his mother. No, Helen. Not his mother.

"Who do you think they are?" She asked.

"Phil and Kristin Craft." It was so relieving to say it outloud somehow. It felt nice. Like he was letting loose an itch in his brain he didn't know he had.

He watched Helen's eyes grow wide and he knew he was right. It was scary seeing and knowing that he was right, but at the same time a feeling he couldn't even describe. They were supposed to be his family. His friends were supposed to be his family. Maybe that's why he got along with them so easily and why it was so easy to banter with Techno and annoy Tommy. Why Phil and Kristin had so naturally taken care of him.

They were supposed to be his family, and he would've had a loving life if they hadn't interfered.

"Fuck you." He huffed, turning to go out the door. That was all wanted to know, and now he had the confirmation. He wasn't sure what he was going to do with this information, but he had it now.

His mother grabbed his arm and he looked at her. The calm still of her eyes made it seem like she had some sort of plan. She likely did, which wouldn't be fun to deal with but he'd just ignore it. It was always easy to deal with.

"You don't know what you're doing." She hissed.

He tore his arm out of her grip and headed towards the door, "It's better than this."

"We gave you everything as a child." She yelled after him.

"Yes, you did." Wilbur turned around, "Out of a misguided judgment and want of a child you could flaunt. Guess what? Children have feelings and they can tell when things are wrong. Even at 3 fucking months old apparently. And, to be honest, you were kinda shit Helen. Now, I'll be leaving."

Wilbur turned back around and went out the door, not locking it, instead just putting the key under the table and walking away. He wasn't going to deal with them any longer. That's all he wanted to know, and he had the confirmation. Proof could be as simple as a DNA test. Now came the hard part.

What to do with this information?

The most logical thing to do would be to go to the authorities and tell them, but the likelihood of them believing him was low. After all, this would be a seventeen year old cold case by now. They probably got rid of the file and if they didn't, they probably wouldn't believe him. The second option was to just straight up tell Phil and Kristin what he'd learned and hope they didn't think he was lying about it. The final option was to ignore it again until he had to tell someone. Which could be forever.

That option was pretty damn tempting, but he knew that would only cause a plethora of other issues. All ending in him having a mental breakdown and feeling alone in the world.

All the other options involved getting his parents arrested, though, and that was something he had mixed feelings about. This entire thing was incredibly fucked but it would be the right thing to do. Stealing babies wasn't a thing someone should get away with, and who's to say they wouldn't just try their hand at it again? They clearly had the resources to come up with reasonable fake documents and all that jazz.

Even if they didn't get arrested, and they try it again and that was even worse than just letting everything pass by because it didn't affect him anymore.

He also didn't have any legal documents to be able to do literally anything, so that was something he could have again if he went with one of the first two options. He could have a lot more than he had now if he went with the first two. Those were also the scariest options, so he wasn't sure how he felt about that. He didn't want to be making big decisions like this, and yet he had to.

Wilbur ran a hand over his face. He should do the right thing. He really should. The right thing to do would be to walk down to the station and tell them who he most likely was and get all of this cleared up. Make the case open again and get a DNA test to prove that he was who he was saying he was.

That was scary because what if he was wrong? As if he didn't just confirm the truth with his parents. The authorities weren't fun to deal with though because he'd been labeled as a panhandler even if he provided and gave back through the music. He didn't put up a sign asking for money, people just put it in there. They didn't really like him.

He couldn't be wrong about this though. Wilbur should do the right thing. He really should. After all, he couldn't keep living under a bridge. Why was this such a hard thing to decide? There were really only two good options. Although he'd rather drop dead before he looked Phil in the eye and said that he might be his son that got kidnapped at 3 months old. That was absolutely insane to even think about doing. Phil would probably find him crazy if he didn't have any proof.

In the end he was back under the bridge, finding that all his stuff was still there, thinking over the same insane decision. He should do the right thing. It was always scary to do the right thing.

"You should tell someone, Wilbur. Before they twist it and say something completely different and it all gets confusing. They'll try to lie their way out." He muttered to himself.

He sighed and looked at the water flowing in the river below. It was surprisingly calm for the storm they had last night. Maybe that was a sign that it would be alright.

"I don't know what to do." He whispered to no one in particular. He probably should but there was nothing he could fathom as to how he would even begin to explain the situation he was in. This was a ludicrous thing and yet it was still happening. He needed to tell someone everything.

What he should do and what he wanted to do were two different things though. He took the rock he'd found on the sidewalk yesterday out of his pocket and held it. He turned it over in his hands and stared at it before putting it in his small collection of shiny things. A pile of bottle caps and other rocks mainly. Also all the coins he had. The only sign of avian-like instincts

He glanced at the coins again and then picked one up, flipping it into the air without a second thought to make a choice. If it landed on heads he'd pretend this never happened and continue to live his life like normal. If it landed on tails he'd tell someone his findings, and get this shit dealt with. He caught the coin and turned it over on his palm, lifting his hand to see his answer.

Tails.

He needed to tell someone.

Wilbur wasn't surprised by the dread he felt as his body started working on autopilot. Getting up to go do the task at hand even if it was nauseating and terrifying. His guitar was still on his back because he almost never went somewhere without it. He couldn't bear the idea of it getting stolen. Even if it probably would've been a better idea to leave it here.

He found himself in front of the authorities desk, really unsure of how he'd gotten here. Most of the walk there was already a mess of anxious emotions that he didn't want to deal with. The door had been laden with guilt and he felt nauseous right now.

"Hello. What seems to be the problem?" The officer at the front desk asked. He couldn't read her name tag as it was hidden by somethings and so he felt bad. He felt worse when she gave him a look that told him he was wasting her time.

"Uhm, a missing person." He managed. That was a stupid way to start Wilbur.

"You need to report a missing person? Have they been missing for over 24 hours as of right now?" She asked, clicking away at her computer.

"Yes, I think I am… the missing person." He said awkwardly.

She gave him an apprehensive look and turned back to her computer, "We don't have any reports for missing teenagers out right now. You aren't missing, kid. Go home."

"Not… for now. I think it would've gone out when I was a baby. About seventeen years ago, for William Craft. I don't know the middle name. I never found out what it was. It's a miracle I was able to get what I do know."

She nodded and started to pull up something else. She didn't seem to believe him because he saw the surprise when she actually found a file. She probably thought this was a prank. Which was fair enough.

"Well that's interesting. If I were to believe you, you'd have been missing and completely undocumented since you were 3 months old and taken from the hospital." She said, looking at him unimpressed once again. Much like she didn't believe him. Just as he'd suspected.

"I should have some kind of fine documents under the name Wilbur Soot if you need proof that I exist. I don't know how legal they are, I think they were forged because of the whole kidnapping situation but they should be in there." Wilbur exhaled, running a hand through his hair.

She nodded her head slowly and pulled something else up on her computer. The only thing he'd have was his learners permit which he'd gotten before the argument, but she did some clicking for a few more minutes before she narrowed her eyes at the screen.

"When's your birthday?"

"November 16th."

"I'm going to need you to come with me for a bit." She said, standing up and leaving everyone else who had been in the waiting room for God knows how long alone as he followed her. This was a start.

He went to the back part of the facility and was instructed to sit down on a chair. He wasn't put in a cell nor was he handcuffed so he figured that was a good sign. He did have several looks from the people who were in cells and then he was taken into a different room. This was more of a normal room. A table, and chairs. Well, this actually looked like an interrogation room but he knew it wasn't one because there were windows showing the street outside, and there were pictures of random birds on the wall. Interrogation rooms didn't have either of those.

He was left in there for who knows how long before someone else opened the door. It hadn't been an officer like he was expecting. Instead it was Phil. Phil who looked confused for half a second before making the same connection that he had last night. It was a lot to process. He hadn't really been expecting them to call Phil.

"He's had everything explained to him. We'll let you talk." The person who let him in said.

Phil stared at him for a second and Wilbur stared back. To be fair this was a pretty big thing to find out that after years of thinking your child was presumably dead, that they were alive and you'd known them for over a year now. That was a pretty big shocker for most people. It had been a pretty big shocker for Wilbur. He was still reeling over it. The shock didn't fade away from Phil's face. It stayed and pulled at his eyes, making him continue to look at Wilbur, never looking away.

Phil walked towards him and Wilbur stayed still, smiling meekly. Phil had to know that Wilbur made the connection at some point during his stay and had decided this was the best course of action. Getting himself to not be missing anymore. Phil had to know that.

"Did you figure this out this morning?" Phil asked, stepping up to him, having so many different emotions going across his face.

"Saw the picture last night, I just had you confirm it this morning." Wilbur said, shrugging.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Phil whispered, his confusion showed on his face. Why did you leave? Was the silent question in the room.

"Well, that would be a fun conversation." Wilbur snorted. "Hey, Phil, so you know the story you just told me about the fact that your baby got kidnapped, well, it just so happens that I have a story from my supposed parents and apparently I was this stolen kid. It's also just a freak coincidence that your son and I have the same birthday and that the baby pictures of your kidnapped son look like baby me."

Phil stayed silent for a second before laughing a little, "Yeah, I can see how that conversation wouldn't end well."

"Yeah." Wilbur murmured, looking back out the window and then back at Phil once more.

He looked like he was still figuring things out. Which he understood. This was a lot to process. Wilbur knew that when he first found out he'd been kidnapped as a baby, that had rocked his world. He'd spent weeks processing that reality before accepting. He hadn't really had a true chance to process that this was real and happening yet.

"I guess, I just don't know how you were so close all this time. You and Techno were in the same schools, surely. We would've run into you at some point." Phil ran a hand through his hair looking confused.

"We lived on the other side of the neighborhood. So a different elementary school. We would've had to meet in middle school, but I guess that just didn't happen." Wilbur offered.

"Even then, it wasn't that big of a school. You must've seen each other at some point." Phil said. "Wait, hold on, I thought you were a broke college student."

"You assumed that. I never confirmed it." Wilbur said, smiling grimly. It really wasn't a moment to feel grim but he knew that would mean that he was moment's away from saying that he'd been homeless.

"Then, why were you never at school? Why did you always look like shit?" Phil asked, now looking more bewildered. Like he couldn't imagine how Wilbur had just disappeared of the face of the planet when it came to schooling. Homeschooling was always an option but then he'd have to produce parents that actually saw him.

"They… didn't like that my wings never came in." Wilbur said eventually, staring down at the floor. "So, they just kinda got rid of me. This was the day of the argument where I found out everything by the way. The whole reason they took me was that I would have wings. I don't know how they expected that to go. It was this whole mess."

"What do you mean? They threw you out? You've been living on the streets?"

"Under the bridge technically." Wilbur muttered, biting at his nail as he glanced at Phil who had a horrified expression. "What? I was fine. I am fine. I lived and have been living. Quite well actually considering my circumstances. It's all good, Phil."

"No, it's not good. I-" The door opened, and Phil's stress-induced rant was cut off before it really even began. "We're going to talk about this more when we get home."

Wilbur didn't like how long this whole thing was taking. They got his story from him and then they took a DNA sample from both him and Phil. They'd been told that they'd get the result back soon but for now they were free to go home.

At this rate, Wilbur had been here since almost eleven in the morning and he could see the sun setting in the distance as they got into Phil's car. He was a little surprised that Phil had driven here because that couldn't have been good on his wings but he supposed that it was better that way because Phil couldn't have known if his kid had wings or not.

They didn't head to Phil's house at first. Which was a little confusing.

They drove to the bridge closest to Phil's bakery that went over the river. It was probably a guess but Phil had been right in which bridge he guessed. Phil probably had figured he wouldn't walk that far from it and the bakery had to be close to it. Phil stopped the car on the side of the bridge and pulled off to the side. Which was the wrong side of the bridge. It was a good guess though.

"It's on the other side." Wilbur murmured, and Phil moved the car to the other side of the bridge with ease. Phil was good at driving. Wilbur hadn't gotten to drive since he was a freshman with his learners permit.

Then they got out and Wilbur walked down the side of the bridge towards the river with ease. Phil was having more difficulty than he was, probably because he wasn't used to it like he was. Even if it was grass, part of it was rather steep. Wilbur stepped around the tarp, and the first thing he did was start to stack the soup cans so it at least looked like there were fewer of them than there were. Then, hopefully, he didn't look like he stole a bunch of soup. Some things he paid for, but most of his money went to nice meals that he treated himself to. Which really just meant it was warm and maybe a bit better than soup.

Soup was just something he got used to eating. A constant source of protein and salt so he didn't pass out. That had happened a few times before. It wasn't fun.

"Wilbur…" Phil trailed off before he could say anything else. That was probably for the best. Phil should leave his comments in until he couldn't hear them.

"Uhm, I don't know if your family eats canned soup, but I have a lot of it." Wilbur said, revealing the edited pile.

There still seemed to be a lot of it, but at least he looked less like a thief. It really wasn't a lot. Only about six cans, which was probably normal for regular people. He just didn't want Phil to think that he was a thief. Even if logically, he knew that it was likely stolen. He knew that having six cans when living alone was the cause of that thought.

"We can donate it. Canned soup tastes like shit to me, personally." Phil murmured.

"I don't know. I find that this brand tastes alright. The vegetables are still somewhat identifiable. Which is more than you can say for others." Wilbur said, picking up a can before putting it in his pocket. He could fit a number of cans in his pockets without anyone noticing. He wanted to keep the soup to be honest.

"Alright." Phil said, starting to roll up the blankets he slept in. There was something relieving about that.

Which was a careful assortment of things he'd found both in the trash and bought himself. He usually bought the blankets that were on sale after holidays ended. Those ones were the best. The Halloween blankets from Tuesday morning were nice and comfortable. The best of the best. Enough of them could keep him from feeling like he was going to freeze to death during winter. That was always nice. He liked not dying.

They got the stuff in the car. His blankets and cans of soup in the backseat with his guitar and his remaining cash (11 dollars and some amount of change that he wasn't going to count right now), was in his pockets. His collection of shiny things had been moved to an empty can and he had it in his hands as they drove back to Phil's house.

Phil was so casual about it. It made him feel a lot better when Phil just helped him with the little he owned and didn't ask any questions about what had happened. He was very grateful for that.

He was sure that when they got back. There would be some sort of fresh hell waiting for him. The family likely knew why Phil was gone and who he was probably going to come back with. Wilbur would have to produce an explanation as to why it was him. The fact that he would've been young enough to not remember any of them, could help him. The fact that they all got along extremely well from the start wouldn't hide the fact that there had to be some nagging feeling about this from someone, didn't.

Maybe he could say that he didn't have the same instincts as them all, but he literally had a soup can full of shiny trinkets he found on the ground. There was no way he could get past them with that route. That and the second option was just not fun.

He would probably have the same instincts as Techno anyways. No, Techno had more than him because he had wings. People with wings had more instincts. Techno had nice, pink ones that Wilbur envied. Part of the reason he was so worried about this was he hadn't realized that he'd probably be staying with Phil. That meant pretty much being around avians all the time now. He wasn't sure what that was going to do for his instincts and such. He didn't have wings like the rest of them and that was obvious. He was probably too old to grow them so that wasn't an option either and there was no drastic way they would be sprouting at this point.

He was just Wilbur.

He needed to stop worrying over this. Anxiety would get him nowhere.

Besides, what's the worst that could happen?

Chapter Text

When they pulled up to the house again, Wilbur took a good few minutes to just sit in the car and mentally prepare himself before he finally got out. He took his stuff inside and got the opportunity to at least put it in the guest room where he’d be staying before getting bombarded. Tommy would likely ask him a lot of questions but the boy was taking a bath and wouldn’t be done for a while. So, that was a small miracle.

Phils’ family knew that he was here and likely their kidnapped family member, they just didn’t know that it was Wilbur yet. Which was a bit of an issue because he would have to explain it to everyone. Tommy would probably just think that he was staying the night again. Techno would be pretty confused, and then would probably just ignore it. That was something Techno would do.

Still, he would have to face them eventually, even if he didn’t want to right now.

So he left the guest bedroom and went into the living room. Techno was messing with something outside as he could see him from the window and he seemed to be messing with something in the ground. He knew that Techno liked to garden a lot and he assumed that was something to do with it. He just hadn’t known that anything could still grow in this weather.

He could just sit down and wait, but instead, he went outside and stood next to Techno. This was the best way to talk to him, and then tell him the news. That was if Techno couldn’t figure it out by just him still being here. Techno was pretty smart.

“So, you took up my Dads’ offer of stayin’?” Techno asked without looking up. He was very good at judging when he was there. He wasn’t sure why he was able to tell so easily but he went with it, because it couldn’t be an avian thing as this was an exclusively Techno thing.

“It’s… more complicated than you think.” Wilbur managed.

“Can’t be that complicated,” Techno said standing up.

Techno looked at him and Wilbur saw the similarities in their faces for the first time since they’d met. It might have been the only thing that connected them before but the roots in Technos’ hair were brown, and they were the same height. Wilbur might have been a couple of centimeters taller than him, but he could look him in the eyes easily. Now he could see it more as the only thing that would naturally set them apart would be their eyes. Techno had blue, and Wilbur had brown.

“So, Y’know, how Phil left to go to the police station and all that.” He started. This was difficult. Why was this difficult?

“Oh, I figured you might be related to us weeks ago.” Techno shrugged and went back to what he was doing, seeming completely unsurprised by this.

“What?” Wilbur asked incredulously, “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean, I guessed that you probably weren’t like my long-lost twin or something because we thought you were a college student but you definitely were related to us. You’ve got the same connection that the rest of us do in our minds. Of course, we are twins apparently because that’s the only reason that Phil would take so long at the station.” Techno pointed his spade at him.

“Connection?” Wilbur echoed, ignoring the last part, because it was right. “What does that mean?”

“The connection that avians have. Y’know that mental stuff that connects you to your family. It doesn’t have to be family but that happens a bit less. You connected with us a bit too easily to not be family and not an avian. So, I figured that’s what you were. Just some random cousin or something but I was wrong about that.” Techno said.

“So, you’re not surprised? Like, at all?” Wilbur asked.

“No, not really.” Techno shrugged.

Wilbur wasn’t sure what to say to that. Techno had figured it out weeks ago and just went along with whatever was going on instead of saying something like a normal person would. Then again Techno wasn’t really normal. Wilbur didn’t get what the connection thing that Techno was talking about was. He certainly never felt it, but maybe that was because he didn’t have wings like the rest of them. Maybe it was that far-off gut feeling he got about people, but he had a very good feeling that Techno was talking about something completely different than what he was thinking about.

“Well, I was surprised when I figured it out,” Wilbur murmured.

“When did you? Was it yesterday or today?”

“Do you think that I’m that dumb?”

“No offense, you like to ignore things until they're right in your face if they’re going to affect you in any way. Which is stupid.”

"I notice things." He grumbled.

"Yeah? How long did it take for you to notice you were an avian?” Techno asked, looking up at him.

“I knew that.” Wilbur scoffed. “Now, you’re being stupid. Of course, I knew I was an avian.”

“Sorry, sorry. I just had to make sure.” He could hear the grin in Technos voice. Techno was just messing with him now.

“Whatever, I’m going back inside.” He grumbled, moving back into the warm house. He liked to be warm.

He went inside and sat back down on the couch, unsure of what he should do. Phil was doing something, Kristin was somewhere else, and Tommy was still taking his bath. Techno was doing his own thing. He wasn’t really sure what he should be doing. He hadn’t been in a house like this in months. Sure, he’d stayed over last night, but he was probably going to be staying here for a long time now. He forgot how this shit worked to be honest.

So, he went to take another shower.

He enjoyed taking them when he could because they felt nice and gave him time to think. He spent a lot of his time thinking about things, but this gave him the chance to just calm his mind too. A calm mind was always nice. You couldn’t always have that when you had cars going over the bridge you slept under that were constantly ringing in your ears.

He felt more refreshed after that and could go back to sitting in the guest room patiently. He supposed he could charge his phone. He still had it even if it hadn’t been used in over a year and was likely severely outdated. He wondered what his online friends had thought happened to him. Shit, he hadn’t thought about them in a long time. He didn’t have a need to, but he might be able to talk to them again. That hadn’t been a possibility in a long time.

He ended up plugging in his phone and placing it on the windowsill while it charged. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to use it for a while but hopefully he’d be able to do something with it tomorrow.

Wilbur got called to the kitchen after that and so he left the room, and went towards the kitchen. Maybe Phil had saved him from explaining to everyone that he was technically related to them, and had been the entire time. Hopefully, he had dealt with that because Wilbur didn’t really want to deal with it himself. Telling techno had been enough for him.

He didn’t see anything wrong in the kitchen, Phil just had a notepad with different things written on it. It looked like a list of ingredients.

“What pizza toppings do you like? We’re not going to make anything tonight because it’s too late to make anything.” Phil glanced at him.

Wilbur wasn’t entirely sure what he did like on pizza. He hadn’t had it a long time, as Helen was lactose intolerant. That alongside the fact that when he did treat himself to a warm dinner, it was never pizza because the gas station pizza always looked rather disgusting, and he didn’t want to eat it. He wasn’t ever desperate enough to stoop that low. At least not yet, but he wouldn’t ever have to now.

“Uhm, I don’t know.” He said.

“Alright, well, cheese then? Tommy likes cheese pizza.” Phil said.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” He said.

“Alright. I’ll call for you when it’s here.” Phil said, putting down the notepad and pulling out his phone. Alright, they were going to have pizza then. That would be a nice change.

Wilbur nodded and headed back towards the guest room, but Techno pulled him into his room by surprise, and shut the door behind him. Which, he didn’t know when Techno came inside but he was going to go with it. He found that was the best way to deal with things.

“Tommy’s done with his bath. You’ll be safe here.” Techno said solemnly.

“What’s wrong? Why will I be safe here?”

“Because, every time, without fail. Tommy still manages to get his wings wet despite trying not to and then he makes it everyone's problem. Y’know how dogs shake their fur off when they’re wet? He does that with his wings and it’s very annoyin’. The water gets everywhere. I’m sparin’ you of your fate for now.” Techno murmured. “I don’t think he knows you’re here yet so you should be alright as long as you stay in here."

He wasn't really sure how that was an issue but he'd go with it. He hadn't actually ever been in Technos' room, so he got a chance to look around. A bedroom could tell a lot about a person, as if he hadn’t known Techno for the last year, and knew exactly what classes he was good at and what he liked to do in his free time.

He had a lofted bed, with a desk underneath it with little string lights surrounding the underside of his bed. The actual desk was plain and wooden with a cup of ice water on it and a monitor next to a PC. Which was surprising. He knew that Techno dedicated a lot of time to school, and usually wouldn't have time to game, but maybe he used it for school as well. Techno never mentioned gaming all that much.

"Your room looks cool." He commented.

"Thanks." Techno moved away from the door, after making sure he locked it and sat in his chair at the desk.

Now that he looked past the ladder, he saw a beanbag next to a stack of books. When he looked around, there were books pretty much everywhere. On the dresser, on the bookshelves attached to the wall, and in small piles all over the room. There were a lot of them. He was pretty sure he could see a few on Technos bed as well.

"You have a lot of books."

"I only got through like half of them." Techno dismissed, spinning around in his chair a few times. "You're gonna have to go to school again. I hope you know that, and you probably won’t be in any of my classes because of everything you missed."

"Oh. I didn't think about that. Still, I've only missed a year. I should be alright." Wilbur said, moving and sitting on the beanbag.

"Sophomore English has a lot of important shit in it." Techno said.

"I mean, I know that, but I'll be fine. There's such things as credit recovery and the sort. I can do that and still graduate when I'm supposed to." Wilbur said, picking up a random book.

He tried to read the title but found that it was in some foreign language. He couldn't even begin to place what it might have been, so he put it back down.

"I guess." Techno muttered. "Dude, Tommy's gonna freak out when he finds out you're staying. He's gonna think it's like a second birthday, I swear."

Wilbur snorted, "Good for him."

Wilbur pushed himself back in the beanbag chair, staring up at the string lights adorning the bottom of the loft bed. Maybe this was doable. Maybe he could have a second chance at family.

Wilbur spent the following days getting used to being inside again, waking up warm, and not having to take care of everything himself. It was certainly something he had to take some time to adjust to. Techno and Tommy had one more week of school before they got let out for fall break. In which, Phil and Him got a bunch of legal things done, gone to find him clothes that weren't falling apart. They could've just gone and gotten them from his room in the old house, but none of that fit him anymore. They did manage to get his old collection of shiny rocks that he had lined up on the windowsill.

Phil also got him a day to take a placement test sometime during fall break as he'd missed over a year of school and they weren't sure where they should put him for now. When he did take it, he was cleared to join the next semester of Junior classes, he'd just need to be put in credit recovery like he'd expected.

Wilbur also spent a lot of time sleeping. Phil said it was because his body was no longer constantly in fight or flight mode and so he was much more fatigued than he usually was.

It was still surprising when a few days after the fall break had ended and Techno and Tommy went back to school for three week, he woke up in agonizing pain.

There was no precursor to this. Not even like a little bit of pain to tell him he was about to feel like he was going to die, he just woke up like this. He might have felt a little more tired yesterday and slept on the couch for a bit but that was nothing. There was just a sudden, blinding pain that consumed his entire being. He supposed he could pinpoint the place where it was coming from. The top of his back was certainly an interesting choice of pain point, but it was definitely there. That was definitely something he hadn't been expecting.

Wilbur groaned and buried his head in his pillow. This was so stupid.

He really thought he'd known pain but this was more of a constant drum of rain on his back. Except the rain was molten lava and it was hitting angry fire ants that bit his back in anger. Truly the most diabolical combination he could think of at this point in time.

He managed to glare at the clock in his room and see that it was almost two in the afternoon. A good few hours after he was normally awake. He was sure someone would be coming over to make sure he was okay soon. This wasn't going to be fun to explain because he really had no clue what the fuck was going on.

He dragged himself out of the bed after another fifteen minutes. Maybe taking a shower would help the aches and pains in his back. While the aches would be soothed, he's not sure what he could do about the pain. He can barely walk, and so he had to stumble into the bathroom, and nearly collapsed on the door as he closed it. He walked towards the shower and stumbled just as he got past the sink.

Oh, he was on the floor now. Lovely.

He was laying on the bathroom floor. This was fine. Alright, this was totally fine. Wilbur attempted to get up off the floor, and was promptly met with such a large wave of pain he tried stifled a scream. It wasn’t really stifled, but he tried. Which was definitely a new thing. He's pretty sure that whatever was going wasn't supposed to be happening. It hurt like a bitch.

Could it be his appendix? Appendicitis was a thing. He's not sure that it's in his back, but that could be it. Actually, he’s pretty sure his appendix was somewhere else.

He grabbed onto the counter and pushed himself up. He actually more so pulled himself up, hands gripping on the counter. That was painful. Shit. Okay, maybe he couldn’t deal with this.

A knock at the door, accompanied with the soft voice of Phil, "Wilbur are you alright?"

He wished he could say that he was, but he managed to strain his voice to speak, "Not really, but I'll be fine."

He was fairly sure he wouldn’t be fine, so he wasn’t sure why he said that but he could manage. Another spasm of pain sent him back on the floor, his vision disappearing for half a second as he stared at the ground. He was pretty sure that wasn't supposed to happen. Pain was not supposed to make your vision disappear.

"Wilbur?" Phil asked again.

He was fine. This was fine. Alright. He tried to get up and another hit of pain kept him on the floor. Maybe he should just stay on the floor. The world clearly wanted him to be there. He might just stay here. The tiles were cool, and he didn’t want to move. It was better than trying to stand up and being in absurd amounts of pain.

“Yeah?” Wilbur asked, meekly.

“What’s going on?” Phil asked.

Wilbur stayed silent for a few seconds before speaking in a strained voice, “I don’t know.”

“Are you hurt?” Phil asked.

Wilbur scrunched his nose and hissed in as another wave of vision stealing pain washed over him. He’s not sure if he can respond to Phil right now, and he’s right because when he tried, it just came out as a strangled yelp.

It felt as if someone was pressing hot knives to his back and just wasn’t letting them up. As if their sole goal was to put Wilbur in as much pain as possible. He couldn’t figure out what was going on, and Phil probably couldn’t figure out what was wrong until he said something, but he couldn’t say anything.

He was almost sure that Phil was trying to talk to him but his hearing was going in and out of range now and he was pretty sure he was close to passing out. Not because of blood loss or anything major like that but because of simply the amount of pain he was currently in. Which definitely wasn’t normal or good. Phil was probably so worried.

The cool tiles of the floor helped lull him into a sleep, not that the constant waves of pain didn’t help knock him out. Because those definitely did.

To be honest, Wilbur found that passing out wasn't really that eventful, unlike what movies portrayed it as.

Pain wasn't something entirely new to him, if he got hurt on the streets, he'd just have to deal with it because he didn't really have a lot of medical supplies. That had been an entirely new level and he was glad it was gone. Whatever it was, it was over.

He could vaguely recognize that he was on the floor still. Just not the bathroom floor, more like he was on a bunch of blankets on the floor, and he was curled against some sort of warm thing. Maybe a person, although that wouldn't make any sense. He tried to open his eyes but was blinded by light coming from the window, so he was at least in a room where there were windows. He didn't really know why he cared about that.

He opened his eyes again, this time prepared for the light and saw that the light was from an open thing of blinds on the window. He was in the living room, he could tell that much, and he was laying against Phil which was strange. He blinked and sat up, an unfamiliar weight on his shoulders, but it felt like a blanket. It was probably a blanket. He stared at the blank TV, seeing that the light from outside was from the porch light rather than the sun, which meant it was the middle of the night.

Wilbur stared at the ground, trying to figure out what was going on. He felt a little loopy right now, so he wasn’t sure how much he was going to be able to figure out but there was a feather on the floor. It was probably Phil’s or any of the other avians in the house, but he managed to pick it up with shaky hands and look at it.

While his brain was a little sluggish, it took him a moment to register that the color of the feather was brown, and then another minute or so to realize that no one in the house had brown wings. Which made him wonder how a brown feather made its way into the house.

Was there a bird in the house? Was it possible for a bird to get in the house? Had someone left the door open? Maybe there was a bird in the house. It looked too big to be a bird feather though. So that couldn't be it.

He shouldn’t be able to see this well at night. Most of the living room was visible despite the fact that the lights were off, or maybe it was just all the work of the back porch light, which seemed a little ridiculous with how bright it was. He didn't remember it being that bright. He reached around to pull the blanket more around him because while he was wearing a shirt, it was a tank top and he was cold. He wasn’t sure why he was wearing one. He was pretty sure he didn’t own one, but he was wearing one now and that’s what just what was happening, he supposed.

He couldn’t get to the blanket with his hands despite the fact that he should definitely be able to, so he turned his head around blearily to move the blanket himself.

He stared at what was attached to his back, as it wasn’t really a blanket.

Wilbur took a second to register what was attached to his back, as it appeared to be a set of wings. Which didn’t really make any sense because surely he was much too old to grow a set of wings and yet the feather in his hand was the same color as the wings that appeared to be attached to his back. Maybe they weren’t really attached to his back and he was just going crazy. That was certainly a possibility.

He reached back and carefully felt the wings on his back. They were soft and he definitely couldn’t imagine the downy feeling of new wings. Wings that would've mimicked the feeling and weight of a blanket.

Then reality hit him.

Holy fuck, he just grew wings.

Wings. The things that normal avians had attached to their backs.

With no warning. He was pretty sure that wasn’t how this shit worked. Wasn’t there supposed to be a period of time where he got aches and felt sick? The things he’d looked up when he was young, hadn’t happened. Surely, there would’ve been some account of other ways this could have happened. There had to have been a way he was going to know that this was going to happen.

He tried to force himself to calm down but he really couldn’t find a good way to. Hyperventilating when he was upset and nothing made any sense was something he’d gotten used to over the years but he wondered if there was a way to fix that, so he wouldn’t keep having mental breakdowns like this. Just in case someone woke up and saw the mess he was in. He wondered if Phil had anyway to predict that or if he just had no clue that this was going to happen before it happened like him.

Wilbur forced himself to take a deep breath and managed to make himself stand up. Which he was barely able to do as he almost immediately collapsed onto the ground, but caught himself on the couch, and pushed himself up and went towards the kitchen. Techno, who was apparently sleeping on the couch, stayed completely passed out. He wasn't sure why Techno was there but he'd go with it.

He grabbed a glass from the cabinet and put it underneath the tap, quickly getting himself a glass of water and drinking it greedily. He hadn’t really noticed it but his throat was yelling at him and he needed to get some water in him. It helped clear his mind and made him feel immensely better.

His wings, god that was a strange thought, kept moving behind him, jumping and changing at any bit of emotion that ran through his brain. They hit the back of his head a few times and yet he felt as if he had no control over them. He was confused and scared, so he could feel the feathers on them standing on edge and wouldn’t flatten like they were supposed to. He leaned his head on the edge of the sink, trying to grasp how he’d just grown wings like that. He was pretty sure that wasn't possible without some signs.

Did it have to do with that instinctual shit that Techno talked about or was it something else? Wilbur didn’t have a lot of instincts, especially ones that would make him grow wings. He would’ve known if he had those. He would’ve figured that out ages ago because he would’ve already grown wings. He certainly would've noticed as well.

He took a deep breath and looked up from the sink, getting himself another glass of water. This was fine. He was fine. He just had a new set of appendages that he could barely control. This was completely fine. He could deal with this. Fuck, he literally just bought new sets of clothes, and now he was going to have to get new ones because he had grown literal wings out of his back.

He went back into the living room and sat down in the chair, picking up one of the blankets on the floor and wrapping it around himself. It kept his wings against the back so they’d stop moving and kept him warm. Not all avians had these, but when he looked down at his fingernails they looked sharper. More like Phils. Phil was the only member of the family that had them, so whatever he was, he was more like Phil. Which was a little reassuring in this mess. There was something that would keep him sane.

“Wilbur?” Someone murmured.

Only one of the bodies was moving, although it looked like Phil was moving, rather than Techno who was still sleeping away peacefully.

He blinked and stared at Phil. The guy was getting up and moving towards him. Phil took him by the sides of his head, and started to look over him, as if making sure he was alright and that nothing had happened to him in the few minutes he was away from Phil. Nothing had happened but Wilbur felt better than he did when he woke up. Less sluggish and like he was going to collapse when he moved. Which was definitely always good. People were generally much happier when they could actually feel each move they made.

Even if his wings begged to move, he couldn't control them, so keeping them under the blanket was the best course of action. Once Phil had made sure that he hadn’t managed to miraculously injure himself in the span of ten minutes, he let go of him.

“How are you feeling?” Phil asked.
“I could be better.” He whispered. “This… is…”

Wilbur couldn’t find the right words for what he wanted to say, or rather they wouldn’t come out the right way if he did try to say them. It was a very interesting situation he'd found himself in.

“Strange?” Phil supplied.

“Yeah.” Wilbur managed. “It’s very strange.”

Phil hummed, “That’s to be expected, you didn’t have a normal thing happen to you. It’s not normally this sudden, but it can happen like this. The best I can guess is that you went through all the precursor stuff in your sleep last night, and you’ve just been feeling the fatigue the last week or so. That doesn't usually happen.”

Wilbur nodded slowly, not really understanding what that meant, but he was going to go with it because one explanation was better than nothing. Phil didn't really know what was going on either, but he was fine with that. This was all going to be alright.

“Let’s get you some food and water.” Phil murmured, moving away from him quickly towards the kitchen.

Wilbur didn't feel like moving, so he stayed there, silently waiting for when he had to get up. Or maybe Phil would just bring it to him. That would be nice of him. His brain was still faltering on occasion. Especially when the wings on his back pushed against the blanket instinctively without him trying to move them. That was a little annoying but he supposed he could manage it. He just needed to ignore them a little because he didn't fancy hitting himself in the eye with his wings. They'd already smacked him upside the head too many times.

He would move the blanket but he didn't want to deal with that today and he'd really rather get some more sleep and then deal with what was going on when he woke up again. This would probably make more sense when he was actually awake and coherent enough to understand any of it.

Phil came back with a couple of warmed up slices of pizza and a large cup of water. He would never admit to anyone but Phil that he'd nearly dropped the cup of water but managed to place it on the small table next to the chair while Phil continued to hover over him by sitting on the ottoman and making sure he didn't choke to death on pizza. Which was quite nice of him. Frank had never hovered over him when he was sick or feeling like shit. The most he would do is give him some medicine and call it a day. Helen never even bothered to deal with him when he was sick.

Phil was very kind.

"Alright, how about you take the blanket off your wings so I can check on them again?" Phil asked. "Sometimes this process can cause some issues for wings, and I want to make sure you don't have any."

Wilbur stared at Phil for a second before slowly taking off the blanket. He still wrapped it around himself, under his wings as he was still a little cold. The room was a little cold even if the heater had been on. He liked being warm, but then again who didn't.

Phil ran his fingers through his wings feathers. It was an odd feeling as he hadn't had these things long enough to actually know how they feel. Warm hands against his wings feathers felt strange but he got over it quickly. It started to become calming after a while, almost relaxing. He almost smacked Phil in the face a few times, but he was getting better at the control over his wings. Then Phil was done checking his wings for damage and the warm hands went away. He felt almost saddened by that. Which didn't really make any sense at all. He shouldn't be sad over that, but he was.

"Alright, I think you'll be alright. Are you feeling any better?" Phil asked, running a hand over the top of his wings to make sure everything was straight. That felt nice.

Wilbur nodded, he still wasn't entirely sure how this had happened but he would go with it. That was the best way to deal with things, and sometimes the only way.

"I suppose I can explain what I can, but this doesn't make much sense to me either." Phil said, leaning back on the ottomans non-existent back. He was going to have to get used to not properly sitting, he supposed.

"Okay." Wilbur murmured. A guess was better than anything.

"Wings grow around an avians family. It's a sign of trust, usually. Which I'm guessing is why it never happened with them." His former parents. "I wasn't really expecting you to grow them this late in your life, but considering how long we've known each other I wasn't putting it out of the realm of possibilities. Usually, there's a period of time where we're able to tell someone's about to grow wings, but on rare occasions they don't get that warning, and they just show up. I believe that's what happened to you, but this situation is still two rare things happening at once." Phil explained to him.

He nodded along. Some of those words made sense. Enough sense that he got most of what Phil was saying.

"Does that make any sense?" Phil asked.

"Some of it."

Phil snorted, "That's alright. I wasn't really expecting you to get all of it right now."

Wilbur stifled a yawn. There was no way he could be tired again. His eyes weren't even tired. He didn't feel the need to go to sleep. He just woke up. Maybe it was just the fact that he'd grown wings catching up with him. Then what were the hours worth of sleep during the week before this for? That still could've just been his body adjusting to not being in fight or flight mode, he supposed. Maybe he had to sleep a lot the days after, too. Sleep was just a part of his life now, wasn't it?

"Are you tired?" Phil asked quietly.

Wilbur did his best to nod and only succeeded in yawning while maybe tilting his head up and down. It worked well enough that Phil could tell what he meant.

He could've gone back to his room, but he stepped out into the pile of blankets on the floor, and there was some sort of click in his brain that made him not want to leave. At least for right now, so he stayed in the living room, but he took enough of the blankets to appease his brain and laid them on the loveseat. He would probably be better suited to the couch, but Techno was still there. His wings kept fluttering a little behind him, reacting to his emotions, so he was doing something right.

The number of blankets surrounding him scratched his brain in the right way. He wasn't sure why. He could feel his brain slip into some sort of sleepy haze when Phil put a pillow underneath his head.

His wings wrapped around him, acting as another blanket to keep him warm. He supposed that could be a reason that it felt so nice and appeased his brain.

Wilbur felt Phil ruffle his hair a little as he started falling asleep and a quiet whisper of, "Good night, Wilbur. Sleep well, kid. We'll talk more in the morning."

He was sure that they'd talk a lot more in the morning, as there was a lot to talk about. New instincts in his mind, New wings on his back, what type of bird he was (he was very interested in that), and he definitely wanted to know why he was falling asleep so easily in a cocoon of blankets. The blankets were quite nice, though, so he wouldn't question it for now.

For now, he was safe and warm, curled up in the house of people who loved him. Some of the only things he'd ever wanted.