Chapter Text
Their sons came to them on a rainy autumn night, one splattered in blood and gore. Sinew had coated his hands when he first saw them, dripping down and staining the carpet that covered the nursery's floor. Two tiny winged angels were curled up in a bassinet, crying their poor little hearts out at the commotion he’d caused killing their parents.
He’ll never forget how his heart leapt in his chest; The way it thumped against his ribs as he approached them, the way it stilled when two sets of teary eyes stared up at him.
It didn’t feel real, watching as tiny little orbs inspected him as the babes chirped to themselves. Little wings fluttered on their backs, crushed under their own weights but still moving as the chicks squirmed against each other.
He hadn't realised he was reaching towards them before a bit of blood dripped onto their clothing, staining the fabric with evidence of his crime. He still remembered the way he flinched, jolting back fast enough to startle both him and the little ones.
Too sharp teeth began gnawing at his lip, not slowing their motions as copper soon flooded his mouth. Something like him, someone so jagged and rough, wasn't allowed to get so close to something so fragile. The fates made sure of that. No matter how he longed for it, who he prayed to or what avenues they explored it simply isn't possible.
It stung something deep in his stitched together heart, a guilty greed he’d become so familiar with soon flooding him. It was something he’d become used to, venomous whispers making his hands itch whenever he saw what they had been deprived of.
Taloned hands twitching at the opportunity to grab unattended children, greedy thoughts seeping into him whenever he saw babies on television or toddlers at the supermarket. A deep urge to brood, to nest and to adore making itself known every time an opportunity arose.
He always reigned himself in of course, convincing himself that the children didn’t look enough like him or Kristin to pass as theirs or spotting a parent hurriedly coming towards him to collect their wandering child. It was a unique sense of guilt every time they thanked him, thinking he was some kind stranger watching over a lost child rather than a bitter bird that considered snatching them away.
The itch never left, though, only growing stronger as he had to pass the park to get to the store, watching as children played freely while their parents stared at their phones. It was something that never failed to brew a raging anger in him. He’d never look away from his babies, not to stare at a phone or to take some benign phone call.
Kristin would never allow it if he snatched one up. She’d say they were too old, that they could remember their old parents and that it wasn't fair to ‘deprive’ them of that. As if any decent parent would let their baby get lured away.
He’d never let that happen.
Even now, as he thought back to how he stood in that nursery, he remembers vowing to not let this opportunity slip past him. Before there were parents to stop him, there was Kristin or the children would be too cautious. These two didn’t have any of that. Those foolishly innocent eyes simply blinked up at him not knowing the gore he’d caused throughout the house.
They just stared up at him with beautiful brown eyes, so similar to Kristins in shade, with absolute trust and naivete. It had been too easy to scoop them both up onto his arms. Neither even squirmed at the blood transferring over to them. They both just cooed and settled at being held again.
Even if it was by a man they’d never even seen before.
The same temperament had shone through when Kristin came home. Pudgy little arms waved up at her asking to be held, sleep hazed minds only focussed on cuddling and comfort. Something they had been all too willing to provide. Even as Kristin cried he could see the desperation that was buried deep in her chest, the very same kind that he felt too.
He was so happy she let them have this. He looked over them now, the two little ones snuggled up against her as they all slept, it didn't feel real. They were so tiny beside her, delicate bones and flesh contrasting with the muscle that lined her arms and body, her height almost looking comical beside them.
They'd have to go shopping in the morning, the twins would need formula as well as a litany of other things. They’d have to start work up in the nursery again, unsealing a room that they couldn't bear to look at for years to make way for their additions.
It'd be a while before the chicks would ever leave his nest but getting a room ready for them wouldn’t be too much of a hassle. He had design catalogues everywhere nowadays, they could flick through them together and come up for a room perfect for their babies.
That wasn't even mentioning having to move eventually, this roost was too small for all four of them, the twins would need space to grow and run eventually even if it felt far off now. Prime, they’d need their own rooms sooner or later too, he’d have to look at schools and kindergartens despite how his brain bristled at them ever having to leave the house.
A smile tinged his face as the list in his head grew and grew, plans upon plans of projects quickly being shoved to the side in favour or planning their future together. Some things were years in the future while others would have to be dealt with tomorrow but he still dutifully noted them down lest he let them slip past him.
He could already feel the ache in his arms from the work, the satisfied exhaustion that would tinge his bones after everythings set up and perfect.
It wasn't surprising when he couldn't find it in himself to have even a scrap of guilt over what he’d done. Before, maybe. But now? He couldn't even imagine feeling guilty for taking what they deserved.
He watched as one of the twins stretched, pudgy little arms lifting above their head as they flapped their wings. He muffled a laugh when said wings bapped his brother on the side, causing a grumpy little chirp to escape him.
Fondness continued to wash over him as they fell into a little chirping argument, exchanging irritated little noises at each other until the one closest to Kristin gave a long suffering sigh and gave up. The one that had stretched looked at him, blinking doe eyes up as he let out a victorious little chirp.
He couldn't stop the fond coo from leaving him even if he tried, heart swelling at the sight.
“Did you just win your first argument?” he whispered “oh I’m so proud of you my dear.”
The chick only chirped more as quiet coos and giggles escaped him, arms waving up to be held. It was only then that he realised they hadn’t named their new children either, scooping the currently nameless baby in his arms.
He couldn't help but laugh at their forgetfulness. They spend all this time waiting for children and they forgot to name them when they finally fell into their arms. Humming as he mulled over possible names, he smoothed back the unruly curls that donned the baby’s head.
There was no doubt they already had names, something given to them by their old parents while they were in their care. It wouldn’t matter after they have their boys’ records wiped, of course. For all legal intents and purposes they would be considered his and Kristin's biological children by the end of the week. He felt his wings flutter excitedly behind him at the thought.
Luckily for them, their little personalities were already shining through despite being so young. It’d make picking a suiting name far easier, something to encapsulate their boys perfectly despite still being so young. A possessive type of satisfaction bloomed in his chest at the knowledge that he’d be scrubbing away the last claim their parents would've had over them.
They were theirs to name now, theirs to dress and to care for. Theirs to have for as long as he could, already willing their babies to be homebodies so that they’d never go off to work or university and leave them.
He’d do his damndest to make sure they know where they belong. They’d love the same way he did soon enough, a possessive and all consuming thing that demanded complete and utter devotion. It wouldn't be hard, they hardly fought him through their whole adoption process, why fight him when he taught them how to truly love someone?
Chubby little hands stretched up from the precious bundle in his arms, tiny fists grabbing at him and holding on to the deadly talons that killed his parents. Luckily for him, he’d never fall victim to them. Phil would sooner burn than ever allow that to happen.
Nevertheless exploring hands bapped along his digits and seemed to map out as much as they could. Small fingers gripped along his own and pushed at his knuckles, curious eyes watching as they bend to his tiny will.
Another low chuckle left him as he watched his little one explore, giggling more when he wiggled his fingers only to earn a disgruntled and grumpy chirp in response. A low croon seemed to settle any fuss the baby started though, wide eyes looking up at him as they tried to mimic the sound.
His heart melted at the hollow noise, far too breathy and unsteady but his new sons all the same.
“You’re up far too early, young man” he huffed. “You'll be due a nap soon if you stay awake.”
Predictably, he got no response, just large umber eyes staring up at him and watching him speak. There was something endearing about it, the little one having no clue what he was saying yet still giving him his undivided attention.
A malicious spark fluttered to life in him.
“You shouldn’t be looking up at me with such trust, y’know” he cooed “I did kill both your old parents after all.”
An odd spark of delight grew in his chest as his new baby just stared up at him, tilting his little head and holding onto his talons with all his tiny might. His grin only grew when the boy decided he wanted to conquer his entire hand rather than settle for some fingers.
He watched adoringly as the little chick tugged on the rest of his hand to bring it down, resting it over his belly as an impromptu blanket. He felt his smile only widen at the clear show of juveline greed, no matter how innocent the action truly was. The boy had barely been in his custody for a day and he was already taking after him. Pride bloomed somewhere deep in his chest.
“I did,” he crooned “they're probably still in that little apartment too. Rotting away while you cuddle my hand. They’d be turning in their graves if I gave them one.”
Still, the baby just looked up at him, cooing and giggling when he noticed his smile. It was easy to pretend that it was a response to his words as his smile only grew.
“You don’t care though, do you? You understand it's a good thing that they're dead” he booped the boy's nose, laughing when it scrunched up “that apartment would've been far too small for the two of you. You would’ve been stifled.”
A pleased churr left the boy in his arms at his words, seemingly just happy that the attention was on him rather than anyone else. Smug eyes looked up at him as he snuggled more into his arms, squirming until a downy wing was released from below him. The chick looked up at him expectantly, flapping his little wing before pointedly looking back at him.
It only took a second for him to realise that he wanted to be preened, tiny white wings having become a mess in the chaos of everything.
Phil immediately got to work, using deadly talons to gently untangle knots and twists in the little feathers before using his fingers to comb through the fluff. Another churr from the boy was all the praise he got as the little one melted into his hold, seeming ever so pleased with himself.
He couldn't help the chuckle that left him when he saw it, only remembering to stay quiet when he saw his beloved stir in the nest. Careful eyes watched as she grumbled to herself, shifting for a moment before curling back around the other twin.
The baby only snuggled back in response, fluffing out messy wings before settling right beside her again. He added preening the others wings to his mental list of tasks for the morning, diligently continuing to sort through delicate little feathers as he mulled over his growing list of responsibilities.
It'd be a busy morning no doubt. The little ones would need food that wasn’t in the house yet, something that already filled him with anxiety, and they’d need new… everything. Baby safe wing oil, formula, diapers and new clothing were a minimum.
He could always just… go now. Get it out of the way. It wouldn't be hard, if anything it'd take the anxiety off both him and Kristin. It's not like he was sleeping tonight anyway, his mind was far too busy with everything to fall back asleep.
Flicking his eyes back down to the baby in his arms revealed another problem. He doubted this one was going to bed any time soon.
Surely it wouldn't be too hard to just… wrap him up and head down to the closest supermarket? The little one would probably enjoy the fresh air and visual stimulation. That was a very good thing for their health and development, after all.
Wide brown eyes still stared up at him, unblinking and seemingly committing his face to memory as they just sat and looked at each other.
“Say, mate…” he started “how about we go on a little father son adventure while your brother and mum sleep?”
A pleased, almost agreeing churr was the only response from the bundle of joy in his arms. Honestly it was all the confirmation he needed. Making sure to keep himself steady and quiet, he rose to his feet and crept out the nest room, baby in arms.
Time to rummage for something to wrap the little one in before they head out.