Chapter Text
It was a dark and gloomy night. Rain was pouring down hard onto the road and no one had dared to set their noses outside in this weather. Well, no one, except a certain avian. The avian was hurriedly strolling down the streets, clearly in a rush. His big, magnificently black wings folded neatly on his back, in order of avoiding them getting wet.
The avians name was Philza Minecraft. He had been on a business trip downtown and was rushing to get home before midnight. His boots splashed in the puddles and he didn’t look where he was going. That was until he hear a whimper to his right. He stopped dead on his tracks. He stayed silent for a while and listened carefully. A few seconds later he hear the whimper again.
Phil looked to his right. In the dark alleyway there was a creature curled up in a puddle of what Phil assumed to be water. Phil, of course, being the man who was known to rescue strays, decided to investigate the creature more closely. He lowered his torch and shuffled closer to the creature. It was some sort of an avian. To his horror he quickly realised the avian’s wings were covered in blood. The puddle it was laying in was actually blood. Phil carefully reached to move some hair out of the avian’s eyes to see better, who it was. The hurt avian however, flinched violently away from Phil’s touch and whispered;
“I- I’m sorry... Sorry... Please don’t hurt me...” The flinch clearly caused pain to the avian, he screamed in pain before falling unconscious again.
Phil decided to waste no time. The avian was clearly hurt and Phil wanted to get him so warm and safety as soon as possible. Carefully, setting the torch aside, Phil slid his other hand under the avians knees and moved his other hand to support his back. He tried to not touch his wings, in order of not hurting him more. The boy was very tall, but he wasn’t heavy, which had Phil even more concerned. He hauled up to the sky and despite the pouring rain and whimpers from the avian, he flew home as fast as he could.
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Phil’s two sons, Wilbur and Technoblade were sitting in their kitchen when Phil arrived. They had both been worrying about Phil taking so long to get home. Wilbur obviously showing it more by rambling on about nervously, while Techno was just staring into space silently fidgeting with the ends of his pink hair. When they heard the front door open, they both scrambled onto their feet and ran to the main hall.
They were shocked to see Phil holding an injured creature in his hands. Phil himself was covered in blood and he was absolutely exhausted.
“Wilbur”, he said. “Can you please clear out the living room?” Wilbur nodded, too shocked to say anything, and rushed to the open area. “And Techno, get all the medical supplies we have. And grab a ton of towels and shit on the way as well!” Phil shouted as Techno ran up the stairs.
Carefully, Phil eased the injured avian onto the floor and finally inspected him closely. The avian was an absolute wreck. His hair was completely matted with blood and mud. From what Phil could see, his arms and face were scattered with scars. His wings were obviously the worst. Phil realised now, that he had one black, and one white wing. They were a really rare pair of wings, since most avians had an identical colouring on both of their wings. Phil had never seen anything like it.
The poor boy's wings were completely wrecked. Nearly all of his feathers were dishevelled and they had a thick coat of blood covering them. Phil would have to touch and clean them in order of seeing any injuries down on his wings. Though he could see at least one injury. The white wing was in an odd position and it was clearly cracked.
Technoblade finally emerged downstairs carrying a first-aid kit and a massive amount of towels and blankets. He set them down next to Phil. “Thanks, mate”, Phil said opening the kit. He took the alcohol cleaning wipes and carefully started cleaning the wounds. It was depressing, really. The boy was so badly injured.
Phil had come to the conclusion that the hurt avian in front of him was just a kid. The kid in question whimpered when Phil cleaned a particularly deep wound but remained unconscious.
Once he was done with wrapping the arms in bandages, Phil sighed. He’d have to take of the poor boy’s shirt in order to clean the possible wounds on his chest and back. But with injured wings, it would be nearly impossible to get the shirt of. So he did what he had to. Grabbing the scissors from a nearby table, he carefully cut the shirt in half on both sides. When he saw the boy’s torso, he gasped harshly.
The boy was covered in bruises and cuts littered all over his chest. Phil cleaned them with care and smeared some bruise-easing cream around the biggest bruises. He then turned his attention to the avian’s legs. One of his ankles was in a weird position and he instantly knew he’d have to reset it. However, his adopted sons were still watching, and he didn’t want them to see, what he was about to do.
“Techie, can you and Wilbur go and get some warm clothes for him? I have to reset his ankle and don’t want neither of present. It’s not nice to watch.” Phil requested. Nodding, the boys left the room. He really hoped the boy was unconscious enough to not feel the pain. He worked his way around for a while and finally the bone snapped back in place with a satisfying pop. The kid screamed in agony and pain, but still didn’t wake up. Phil sighed in relief and while wrapping the leg up, called his boys back to the living room.
Once they managed to get one of assumedly Wilbur’s sweaters on the kid and some warm fuzzy pants, Phil inspected the broken wing. He couldn’t really do anything else than just wrap the wing up in bandages and put a soft harness onto it to prevent the wing from moving and getting even more broken. His back was starting to hurt from carrying the boy and being crouched over him for so long, but he didn’t pay too much attention to it. Together with Techno, Phil lifted the boy up from the uncomfortable ground, up to the sofa. He manoeuvred the boy so that his wings would be slightly drooping to the side and wouldn’t hurt too much. He then covered him with a few blankets.
Just as he was planning on taking his temperature in fear of hypothermia, the boy suddenly started shivering.
“At least he doesn’t have too bad of a hypothermia”, Phil sighed in relief. He watched as the boy’s shivering gradually grew. It was a good sign. “He’s really lucky, considering he’s only wearing a t-shirt and a pair of thin jeans.” Wilbur quipped in, sitting cross-legged on the floor. “Where the hell did you even find him?”
“He was laying in an alleyway near Niki’s shop and I just had to help him”, Phil explained in a quiet voice. “I have no idea what’s happened to him, but I have a feeling someone has hurt him. Because avian wings don’t just crack like that. Those type of cracks only happen when someone with strong hands and venom in their mind get too close.”
“But now”, Phil said suddenly. “Time for bed. Both of you. It’s been a hectic evening and we’re all tired.” Wilbur and Techno nodded, but Techno had a concerned expression. “But what if something happens to the boy and we’re all sleeping?” he asked with worry seeping it’s way to his usually monotone voice. “Don’t worry, I’ll be sleeping downstairs on the other sofa, monitoring him closely. You don’t have to worry about it.” Phil assured him and with that his boys headed upstairs. To bed, hopefully.
After his boys had disappeared to their respective rooms, Phil allowed himself to actually look at the situation he had here while drying up his wings. He was completely exhausted and didn’t have the energy to preen them. He sat down opposite the sleeping boy and sighed. He was so confused and worried for him.
What the hell had happened to this boy?