Chapter Text
Wilbur has been feeling suspiciously horrible for the past 2 weeks.
He says suspicious because all the symptoms sound weirdly familiar, like he had searched them up 24/7 as a child…
which he did.
Wilbur grew up in a family of Avians, winged humans with other bird-like features. At first he had hoped he was just a late bloomer, his whole family did, so he was taught everything like he would get them soon….
He didn’t.
Which was devastating for the entirety of his childhood. It’s not like he faced prejudice for being human by strangers, the percentage of humans and hybrids was actually pretty equal and most weren’t species-ist,
but Wilbur did face everlasting exclusion from his entire family.
Depending on how you looked at it: it could’ve been on purpose or by accident.
Especially as Wilbur was literally the only one who didn’t look to be Avian, and no he wasn’t exaggerating, he was the only human…
But apparently the „look“ part of being an Avian decided to show itself.
Wilbur stared down at his hands with shock, his nails an inch long and sharp enough that he accidentally tore into his blanket in his sleep:
he had talons….
….
Holy hell Wilbur has talons!?
His new found bird claws were a dark brown, kinda matched the color of muddied dirt, the color infecting his finger tips before fading out right before his knuckles. The nails felt like a really smooth rock you’d find at a pond, a flat textured surface, they felt strong unlike a regular human nail, they also weren’t flat like a human nail but rather they curved into a hook like shape.
Wilbur knows that if he ever wants them to be shorter that he would need to get a high grade nail filer, a nail clipper couldn’t do shit, but he was more mesmerized that his body was trying to do this when he 16 years over the age you develop hybrid features, 12 years for the average late bloomer.
But it was becoming increasingly apparent that Wilbur was not experiencing a normal manifestation….
Wilbur got out of bed, careful to avoid shredding more of his bedding, silently cursing when he realized he ripped some of his sleep shirt in his sleep.
Wilbur needs to check that he didn’t develop anything else, it would help determine on how far along Wilbur was when it came to the winging process… he’s still in shock right now, so he’s reserving the freak out for later, right now he had was focus-
Oh shit.
Wilbur rushed to the bathroom counter, staring into his now golden eyes via mirror. His pupils were cat like, his hairline flecked with feathers, his ears pointed…. A really abnormal manifestation, these things usually take months to appear after turning 9, again for late bloomers it averaged out to after 13, but instead of a long several month process:
it happened, presumably, under his skin and protruded out over night.
What was worse was that these were all signs that Wilbur was only a week away from getting wings. Which was really bad, really fucking bad.
Why was it bad?
Wilbur didn’t have a flock.
Parents? Dead when he was 11.
Aunts and or uncles?Neither of his parents had siblings.
Grandparents? They never connected with Wilbur over the whole „you're not an avian“ thing, and they died a couple years back.
Romantic partners? He’s just never clicked with someone on that level.
Now, why did a flock matter so much in the context of literally becoming another species?… flocks are one of the most important parts of the winging process. They help soothe the pains of growing wings, sooth the need for closeness and clingyness, help you heal from it, and most importantly help you create everlasting connections that help calm down overbearing instincts.
And Wilbur had no one, no one to sooth the upcoming pains, the suffocating clingyness, to make it a smooth healing process,
No ever lasting closeness…
…
Atleast no friends close enough that he thinks would even want to do all that.
look,
Wilbur had friends, but none of them would want to be a part of… this. Wilbur isn’t even sure if any of his friends felt as close as he did to them…. Well,
Maybe except one.
Quackity.
Quackity, he’s chill, he’s funny, he’s overall great to be around and Wilbur has known him for a couple years now…. And if he asked the man, he would probably drop a lot of stuff to do what he could-
But he couldn’t just ask the guy to do this whole thing… god.
Wilbur has no idea what he’s going to do… he doesn’t even know any Avians…
Wilbur takes a breath, takes his time to calm down, as freaking out isn’t going to do him shit.
After he takes one last glance in the mirror, pupils constructing into stressed slits, Wilbur goes to his bedside table and looks through his phones contacts. It didn't matter if Wilbur had anyone or not, he will be in week long transition period that he will need to plan for, he finds his bosses contact info:
He’s glad his boss has a late bloomer hybrid kid, makes it easier to get some time off to plan and hopefully not mess himself up mentally during the whole deep instinct part.
-
Quackity is kinda (incredibly) worried about Wilbur.
The guy had only mentioned to him a few days ago that he was sick with something but also said he would be better soon… that was 3 days ago and Wilbur hasn’t answered a call since. That's not a normal Wilbur thing.
Wilbur hates having a bunch of answered emails, let alone calls on his personal phone, so him being MIA was not reassuring. Especially since Wilbur said he had no immediate family and is really introverted, not many are going to visit the guy.
So Quackity had soup, canned soup, but it was cooked and warm and he had crackers-
-…
he’ll be honest: Quackity wasn't the best person to get help from when you have a fever, he was better at being helpful when you had a flat tire and needed to be driven somewhere, or like you needed 20 bucks. But he was going to try for Wilbur.
Wilbur’s really nice, for all his sarcasm and snarky comments, a good friend, just….
Anyway, Quackity was here, and kinda terrified to knock.
Wilbur and him have hung out at the man’s apartment most of the time, they have semi-regular movie nights even, but this has Quackity kinda freezing up. It feels like, really personal, or extremely intimate to help with feeling sick and Wilbur’s not the most touchy feely so he’s kinda imagining every worse case scenario where a sick Wilbur will hate Quackity forever some how-
Wait.. is the, Quackity hesitantly grasped the door handle to Wilbur’s apartment-
It’s unlocked.
…
Fuck his anxiety, it doesn’t matter right now, because this is a super not normal Wilbur move to leave his front door open.
Quackity opened the door, almost dropping his Tupperware of soup and bag of saltines-
It was dark inside the hallway inside Wilbur’s home. Nearly pitch black actually. Lights were turned off, curtains were drawn, it was the most eerie the place had ever felt.
It was like the start of a slasher film, where a side character finds a crime scene and then the murderer ends up stalking them from behind before they get murdered….
…
…moving on,
Quackity closed the front door behind himself, not locking it and keeping his shoes on just in case he needed to run to get help of some kind, like medicine that Wilbur didn’t have.
He decided to just start peaking around in rooms to hopefully find his friend.
The first room was the man’s kitchen. Quackity walks into the room with a quick glance, he does not find Wilbur there. He leaves the food he had brought onto the counter, so his clumsy hands didn’t spill the contents everywhere, and looks around more thoroughly.
At first, nothing looked out of place.
except for the pantry being wide open and damn near ravaged, snacks and non-refrigerated packages galore were strewn onto the floor without care. It almost looked like they were torn open by a bear.
Wilbur can be messy, don’t get Quackity wrong, but he was not the kind to just leave his shit all over.
Quackity starts picking it up, he doesn’t know why Wilbur left the kitchen like this but he’s going to assume it’s because he was sick, so he’ll just do him a quick favor. After he’s done grabbing the shredded packaging and throwing it away he heads to the living room.
There’s no trash left by whatever feverish haze Wilbur could be in this time, but the living room was not spared from being left looking weird.
Wilbur usually had a medium sized basket in his living room that he left in the corner, just stacked up with blankets and shit, but it was completely devoid of the comforters, the basket even left on its side. What was weirder was not only were Wilbur’s couch pillows missing, so were the couch cushions.
Quackity has no clue why the fuck this was happening, but Wilbur wasn’t in here either so he decided he would have to enproch in Wilbur’s personal space: his bedroom.
When Quackity opens the door he was expecting Wilbur to be curled in bed, maybe the room was a tad bit messy, or anything really that showed that his friend was resting.
No, instead he was facing the weirdest sight.
Wilbur’s mattress, as shown by the empty bed frame, was on the floor. Not only that, but so was all the missing comforters from the man’s living room was in here, blankets, pillows, throw pillows, the couch cushions even made a appearance in a odd circle shape on the floor..
Now that Qauckity was actually processing what he saw… was this a nest-..
Oh my god.
Was Wilbur a hybrid?..
Oh everything makes sense, Wilbur was probably in a instinct thing right now, he would not-
Qauckity heard as something gracefully land behind him, something large, said something was also blocking Quackity’s way out of the room...
As Quackity slowly turned his head he couldn’t help but think, ‚oh my fucking god, I am going to be a side character killed like I’m in a slasher,-
…holy fuck.. is that Wilbur?
Wilbur looked a little taller than Quackity remembered, his friends pajama pants were above his ankles, his tattered shirt (that could barely be considered a shirt) was no longer a baggy one but a medium sized wear… Wilbur is so tall, in fact, that the hybrid has to lean down, which really makes Quackity feel so much smaller when his friend's head is staring right down at him.
Wilbur’s eyes were no longer a warm brown, but a bright orangish-yellow, like a sunflower, a large rounded diamond shape for pupils.
Wilbur’s hair had scattered small feathers coming up on where the shorter ends of Wilbur’s hair style would be, near the top of his head was the same brown as Wilbur’s hair but as it started to go down his head it was a stripe pattern with a creamy white color before reaching his neck in which it was only the white color, his friends ears were pointed with feathers dancing along the edges of them. Tiny little feathered tuffs along the hybrids cheeks reminded Quackity of freckles, but just- fluffy.
Those were the smallest changes.
The biggest being the ginormous wings that were too big for the cramped space of Wilbur’s bedroom, they were spread out, almost curling around Quackity which was totally not freaking him out. They seemed to follow the same color scheme and pattern as his friend's hair, darker at the base and lighter at the ends…. They had to be the biggest wings he’d ever seen on an Avian.
holy shit, he wouldn’t have guessed Wilbur was an Avian at all, dude had no outward traits-
Oh! so that’s why he was unresponsive so suddenly, he’s a really late blo-
„OH- DUDE WHAT!-„ he sputtered, Quackity didn’t have time to react before Wilbur had just.. scooped Quackity up, no trouble at all…
Quackity really shouldn’t focus on the new found strength, but rather that he was being held like a pretty princess… and like a plushie as Wilbur nuzzled the top of his head. Quackity couldn’t help but find himself feeling increasingly warm, his face was probably red as hell right now.
Wilbur had his giant ass wings curled around them both, like a big warm blanket, which also made him feel just a little more uncomfortably comfortable.
Qauckity had no clue what to do.
But he also didn’t expect Wilbur to fucking snuggle him when he accidentally stood foot in his friends nesting area.
Were they good friends? Yes, well, Qauckity has been nervous about the idea that Quackity cared more then Wilbur did but… the fact that Wilbur is being incredibly affectionate while in what is basically a drugged state of mind….
Is it weird to feel glad that your perception of your level of friendship is reciprocated by your instinct drugged version of your close friend?…
Quackity hopes it’s not too weird-
The moment he had realized what Wilbur’s room had turned into Quackity had totally thought he was going to be thrown to the curb or out a window, not being hugged while the hybrid moved them- wait shit was Wilbur taking Quackity where he thinks he is-
Wilbur gently places Quackity down, the surface beneath him not at all even but soft, but no longer cuddling him. That does not mean he feels any less flustered right now because Quackity knows what he was just placed in.
The nest.
Which was for Avian who were important to the person who owns the nest, which meant that Quackity was Important to Wilbur.
Quackity tries to regain focuse to look at where he was sat, the only light in the room were some old fairy lights that had a soft warm glow, but lit enough for him to be able to see. Wilbur was no longer curling both wings around him, rather he was fixing something on his nest, only one wing sat gently on Quackity’s shoulders.
He took a moment to see where he was sat…
Quackity knows this kid, Tommy, that lives in an Avian family, Quackity has gotten to know them well and so he’s been told a lot about the whole Avian shabang. He’s not close enough to be preening, or to be in the middle of the nest, but close enough to sit on the outer ring with some of their other family friends….
and from what he’s learned:
The inner parts of the nest were reserved for family, friends that were practically family, and romantic partners….
So… when he was sitting in what was essentially the middle, Quackity felt both extremely honored that Wilbur thought so highly of him and that he was gonna faint from his heart beating 1000 beats per second.
Especially as after Wilbur fixed whatever was bothering him in the nest he:
One, wrapped his arms around Qauckitys middle,
Two, laid his head on his stomach and snuggled close,
Three, relaxed like a rag doll against him,
And lastly, hasn’t stopped making what sounded to be a happy churring sound, a bird purr if you will. Why? No idea.
But, embarrassingly enough, Quackity can’t find it in himself to complain, his only regret that came to mind was that he just wished he had taken his shoes off first…
But now he’s back to the issue Quackity had when he was in Wilbur's carry: what does he do with his hands?
He could leave them resting in the mattress, he could probably fish out his phone from his pocket… he could…
Quackity hesitantly takes a hand, reminiscent of when he had opened the apartment door, and brushes a hand through Wilbur’s hair.
The new Avian just snuggled happily against his palm, an even louder churr sounding out, „awww,“ Quackity blurted out in a whisper, was it weird to be saying that about his friend?… kinda, but he was being cute right now!
Okay?!
So yeah.. Wilbur held him a little tighter, god he was really warm.
Wait.. oh shit, there’s only himself here…
…oh noooooo…
Oh shit times 20, was Quackity the only one Wilbur considered flock? Oh no, that was not good.
Especially on him, the human, he didn’t know inner flock shit to help Wilbur. At all.
Quackity frowned, still gently scratching Instinct riddled Wilbur’s head, what should he do?…
Oh, duh, call Phil.
Phil was Tommy’s dad, and the man had 3 Avian kids and shit. He would know exactly what to do or at a minimum an idea.
Quackity looked down at Wilbur another time, „don’t worry, im going to do my best to help you,“ Quackity whispered, his voice a little unrecognizable to even himself, almost too quiet and fonder than he intended. His friend didn’t stir too much, only continuing to make little bird related sounds.
He fished his phone out of his pocket, looking through it with his thumb until he found Phil’s contact. He thought about just texting but looked at the happy dazed out Wilbur that was still leaning into his hand…
„Heya Mate?,“ Phil answered, his voice sounding confused and curious, mostly because Quackity was a Texter more than a phone call type of person.
„Hey, so um…“ Quackity stared down at the Avian, debating on how to explain his current situation, „so you know how I said I was gonna visit a friend cause I thought he was sick?“
„uh, yeah, Wilbur right? The one you talk about all the time?“ Phil asked, genuinely curious.
„I do not talk about him that often,“ Quackity replied with a grimace.
„Of course not, anyway what about you visiting him,“ Phil brushed off, definitely smiling to himself, asshole.
„Yeah, so apparently he is not sick… but rather he manifested?“ Quackity wasn’t sure what the would was for when you do sprout wings,
„What? Didn’t you say he’s like 26?“ Phil questioned, sounding concerned.
„25 actually, but um, yeah I don’t know what happened,“ Quackity corrected and then admitted, it’s not like he could ask Wilbur, who now has his language set on: chirps.
„Why not, did his family not let you know? Actually, why are you calling about this?“ Phil started sounding more concerned and confused as he asked each question… which was fair, he was being kinda ominous right now.
„So, I may or may not have been… uhhh,“ Quackity didn’t know what to say…
„Quackity, what’s wrong?“ Phil asked, with a now very composed but worried tone.
„Wilbur said he was sick before I knew anything and he told me at some point he had no immediate family so I came over to make sure he was okay and then when I walked into his room I realized he was an Avian but before I could leave he picked me up and now I’m in his nest and I think I might be the only one who he considers flock,“ there, ripping off the bandaid, there was no way Quackity could explain in a way that wasn’t super concerning for Wilbur’s situation.
„…“ Phil stayed quiet for a moment, Qauckity took a moment to catch his breath, he did that entire explanation in one breath.
All Wilbur did was nuzzle him, again.
„Why do you think you're the only one?..“Phil’s voice sounded.. sad.
Which.. yeah this was really sad..
„I‘m the only one here.. in Wilbur’s nest, and in his entire apartment,“ Quackity told, a bigger frown on his face as he continued to pet Wilbur’s bed head, the other only letting out a content sound.
„…was that Wilbur?“ Phil asked, still sad, but also… really confused sounding?
„Oh, yeah, so um,“ he awkwardly laughed, „Wilbur’s kinda maybe using me as a human pillow right now..“Quackity wasn’t sure if he could even get out actually.. like he is for sure stuck to him until the man decided to let him go.
„Oh, so he…“Phil trailed off..
..
„Phil? You sound like you-„ Quackity spoke up after a few seconds of silence, „okay, so I definitely think your going to need help with this,“ Phil interrupted, sounding… amused? Still sad, but found Quackity’s predicament funny.
„I mean, yeah, I’m not a Avian so,“ Quackity replied back, unsure about what Phil exactly meant,“ no, mate,“ it almost sounded like he was shaking his head, „Wilbur will probably be stressed the fuck out of you leave him, so doing anything that requires getting out of the nest like cooking….“ what was Phil trying to-
Oh fuck.
„if I leave the bed… will he just cry?“
„Exactly,“
Damn, „so, what should I do? Or can do, I guess,“ Quackity couldn’t even imagine how he was going to get Wilbur’s soup to him if he was now stuck in bed like he was on house arrest, but instead of a ankle monitor, the alarm was a big depressed bird.
„well, I could come over to give you a few things but Wilbur will most likely get territorial,“ Phil suggested, but also unsure, Quackity sighed, „I think that’s the only way this will work out without either of us starving, maybe you try to keep as much space?“ Quackity wondered aloud, he lifted his hand away from Wilbur’s to run it through to soothe himself-
Wilbur let out a chirp the minute he did so, „oh, sorry Wil,“ Quackity apologized, immediately dropping a hand back in his friend's hair, Wilbur nodded before relaxing again, „what’s he so offended by?“ Phil questioned him again- „I completely forgot you can understand him,“ Quackity muttered out, „I just ran a hand trough my hair, but when I did I… stopped patting his head so yeah,“ Quackity felt a tad embarrassed about admitting to the physical affection he was giving, „is it okay that I’m doing that? Patting him on the head,“ he asked, once again showing Quackity was out of his element in the care department.
„it’s more then okay,“ Phil responded quickly, „it’s what your friend probably needs the most of actually, especially since he has no one else to give and receive it,“ Phil explained, a little muffled as it sounded like the man was moving around, probably to grab food for him and Wilbur as well coming over to drop it off.
As the older Avian does so Quackity asks a few more questions about what he shouldn’t be doing, as it sounds like a smaller list of what he should be doing, and luckily there’s only a few specific things.
One: since Wilbur is probably in a state of mind that regards Quackity as the most important, it was best to stay within hand grabbing distance so Wilbur can be rest assured that Quackity hadn’t died or something.
Two: if Quackity did have to get up and out of sight, like to use the bathroom, just keep talking non-stop and be calm so (again) Wilbur doesn’t immediately think he died.
And
Three, if Wilbur’s freaking out over something, like when Phil comes to drop off food and telling him a few things in person about preening, to stay calm and just keep giving some sort of physical touch to reassure that Phil isn’t going to kill Quackity (gosh, Wilbur’s just constantly going to be thinking he’s gonna die huh?)
As they had their conversation, Techno overhears that Phil’s going somewhere, so Technos comes along because he literally goes wherever the older avian does.
especially to make fun of Quackity for becoming a human teddy bear.
„I’ll talk to ya in a bit mate,“ Phil says after explaining they would be there in half an hour, other than getting food, Wilbur’s place was a bit ways away.
„Alright, seeya,“ Quackity says his goodbye and hangs up the phone, now… this is his life.
This is gonna be his life for… a couple days, no one’s entirely sure about the timeline, Wilbur has to be the latest late bloomer in history, so they can’t really rely on other late bloomer things.
Since Quackity’s conversation, halfway through Wilbur decided he was not satisfied with their closeness, or maybe didn’t feel like he was getting enough attention…
Whatever it was, now Wilbur was curled around his left side, arms still wrapped around Quackity’s waist, his head in the crook of where Quackity’s shoulder and neck met, and his right wing laid over them like a sheet.
…
It’s really embarrassing how much a part of him is actually enjoying this.
Like, Quackity is so embarrassingly touch-starved.
He can’t even find it in him to be shameful either, he’s sure when Phil and Techno get here that it will come to him immediately, but at this moment where it’s just them?…
No one has to know that he laid his chin on Wilbur’s soft hair, curled his own arms around his… really good friend…
God, Quackity can’t deny this anymore.
He is down bad and it’s awful, and with how Wilbur had been acting today has NOT gotten it to go away.
Even when he totally thought Wilbur was gonna throw him to space when he first saw the Avians new appearance, a knows a part of him went:
Omg he got prettier.
WHICH IS NOT HOW HE SHOULD BE SEEING HIS FRIEND!!!!
Shit, he’s so hopeless, 15 out of 10 type of hopeless here….