Chapter Text
All he saw was black. It was comforting in a way. Soft. His body was too stiff to move so he stayed where he was, enjoying the blissfulness of sleep. Mmmm, maybe he could push back his borrowing a couple more hours. He hadn’t done a night run in a while. It was safer to do so, maybe he could-
Pain. Pain. Oh gods that was pain. He gasped, his back arching in response. The pain…it was-
Radiating through his wing…was it broken? Is that why it hurts like hell? But how did it break-?
It hurt too much to think. The pain was now in his head. The back of his head. He groaned. There was something…wet? Dripping down his neck? Ugh it was all too confusing. He was…he was just going to fall back to the darkness. Yeah. Yeah, that would help. A long nap sounded nice. Maybe he’d feel better when he woke up. Maybe Kristin would make him some stew.
That sounded nice. Before Philza could have another coherent thought, he drifted off.
But he wasn’t down for long. Something nudged him awake. Something dragged him from the depths of a painless sleep. And when he surfaced, just a bit, the pain returned in full force. His face scrunched up as something large nudged his side. It was….frustrating? No, annoying was a better word. It didn’t help that whatever was nudging him was touching his hurt wing. Or his hurt side. He hissed as pain raced up his spine, up his neck and to the back of his head. Gods that hurt! His eyes fluttered open for a second but everything was blurry. Nothing was familiar. What…what was going on? Where was he?
Kristin?
Philza groaned as his eyes closed.
That thing was nudging him. Again. It was cold? What the f- he was just trying to get some sleep! Did a fucking rat get into a tunnel? Did it follow him to home? Gods he hoped not. Clearing the tunnels and patching up any holes were a pain in the ass to do. Maybe he could get Kristin to help him.
But right after his nap. Philza settled again, closing his eyes as he did so. Just a few more minutes of sleep-
He felt something. Tremors? Was there an earthquake?
Philza tried to sit up. He tried to get to his elbows in order to crawl away. If there was an earthquake, then that means the tunnels could collapse. He and his wife could get trapped and it would be a nightmare to dig themselves out. Also they could possibly die in the collapse if they weren’t careful. There was a rush of warm air over him. The sound of click-click-click was almost overtaken by the steady tremors that slowly approached him.
“Hmmm. Whatcha got there, Steve?” A voice. A big, loud fucking voice. What the fuck? Why was-
In the middle of a pain filled haze, Philza’s eyes shot open. The bright lights pierced his aching head, but it was nothing to the panic that was filling him. The ceiling is too big ….rhythmic tremors….loud booming voice…..
God, that was a human.
Philza’s stomach tightened. His body tensed up in fear. What…..how did he get here? Wasn’t he…wasn’t he in the tunnels? He had just said goodbye to his wife. They were going to get supplies…Kristin would go to one part of the house….he went to the other….the house was quiet….no one was home-
A hand wrapped around him, cutting off his thoughts. Philza’s body hurt too much to try to struggle, so he just went limp. Maybe the human would lose interest in him if he didn’t look appealing. Just like with an ani-
A dog. He was attacked by the human’s dog. .It had grabbed him while he was in the air -
“What in the-?”
Some adrenaline shot through him. He turned around and started to thrash about. The fingers, almost as big as he was, tightened further around him. Securing him in the grip. He pushed at them with very little effect. No..no…no…no…no…no!
“Whoa. Easy there. I’m glad that…you’re not dead.” The human turned him over, on his stomach, back and wings exposed. Philza tried to pull his wings closed, trying to bring them closer to his body to protect the wounded, sensitive appendages. But it didn't mean anything. The human’s free hand reached up, the fingers clutching the feathers gently before pulling them open. The human had grabbed his hurt wing. Philza whimpered, a thumb as big as his head gently brushing up through the feathers.
He hated this, being at the mercy of a being as big and dangerous as a human. He hated being so weak. There was nothing he could do. He ached all over. His wing. His body. His head. Oh and his stomach rolled violently like a turbulent sea.
“Are you…no of course you’re not okay. Looks like you’ve got a broken wing.”
Shit. That means he was grounded. He was vulnerable. Philza squirmed in the grip, but he was losing consciousness again. He went limp in the hand that held him.
“Alright. Uh…ay with me. O-”
Philza had once again slipped away into blissful oblivion.
He was lying on his side, bundled up in something soft and warm. He didn't want to wake up. Didn’t want to move one single muscle. It was nice. But there was someone talking over him. Philza’s brow furrowed in annoyance. Why couldn’t they go and have their conversation in another room?
“-ured wing. Yeah. I think…yeah, Steve probably thought he was a toy. No. He’s still alive. I think. Yeah. Uh-huh. Okay, uh give me one second.”
There was some movement, walking. Philza shifted a bit as he tried to push himself away from the voice. His breath caught in his throat as he hit the source of warmth. And oh if that wasn’t the most blissful feeling Philza had ever felt. He got closer, snuggling up against it and sighing in content. It would be nice, heaven almost, if that voice would stop fucking talking! And..was that scribbling?! Who the fuck is writing at this time of night? Maybe Kristin was writing a list for him to get while he was out on a borrowing run.
Shit, he should probably get up huh. Oh, but the covers were so warm. He was wrapped up in them like a burrito. It was comfy. Cozy. He snuggled down further.
“Okay. Yeah. Thanks, Ponk. I…yeah, I will.”
Who was talking? Did Kristin’s brother visit and he just forgot? But who was he talking to? Footsteps…ugh it hurt too much to think.
“Okay…Let’s see if I can do this.”
Humans. Shit, that’s a human. A big human. Fuck. Okay he’s gotta get out of here and somewhere safe. He’s gotta get back to Kristin-
“Here we go.”
Phil went limp as he felt, rather than saw, a hand reach down and grabbed hold of the little burrito that he was in. The hand picked him up. He managed to pick his head up and open his eyes, though the light was far too bright to see anything clearly. There….was that fucking pink? Looming over him?
Mmmmm, yeah he’s gonna go back to darkness. He was jolted just a bit as soon as his eyes closed. Not exactly shaken but it was enough to have him annoyed.
“Hey, don’t close your eyes, bud. I need to make sure you’re not concussed.” He groaned in annoyance. “Yeah, I know. I’m such a dick. But I’m just tryin’ to help you.”
Philza cracked open his eyes. The pink blob just tilted to the side.
“There we go. Hiya.” Philza grumbled. He turned his head as a large finger appeared in his vision, heading towards his face. “No, no, no, no. Don’t do that. You’re fine, I’m not gonna hurt you. Just gotta make sure you’re okay.”
Two fingers grabbed the side of his face. They were gentle, but that didn’t stop Phil from going as stiff as possible in fear of injury. Or well, further injury. The fingers didn’t do anything other than turn his head to the side, and gently open his eyes up a bit further. The pink giant above him hummed.
“Yeah, you’re definitely concussed. I’d bet the bright lights aren’t helping much.” Philza snarled at the human as he chuckled. It stopped pretty quickly. “Alright, let’s check your wings.”
He flailed about as the fingers moved the little blanket prison away from his wings. A hiss escaped his lips as his left wing straightened, only to have a very sharp pain tear through the muscle. The fingers gently grabbed hold of the appendage, moving up and down, following the bone until he got to where the pain originated. Phil hissed.
“There it is.”
Phil was put down on a hard surface. Turned over on his stomach-
-No, no, no! His back was exposed! He was vulnerable. Let go!
“Whoa, easy, easy, you’re okay. Calm down.” The fingers tightened around him. That only made him jolt harder. Thrashing about was not doing his head any favors, or his still-aching body, but he had to get out of the grip that was holding him. He…he had to….ugh….. “There we go. Settle down. I’m just gonna wrap your wing.”
No….he’d be…he’d be grounded. He’d be vulnerable. But he was so tired, he couldn’t muster up the energy to fight any more. Phil went limp.
“There we go. Nice and easy, yeah?” The human’s fingers relaxed.
Phil closed his eyes as the human carded through the feathers. Despite everything, the blond tiny relaxed even further. It was very similar to the feeling of when Kristin preened his feathers at the end of a very long day. But…then again…not quite. Though his still very achy body was all too happy to relax even further. His vision started flickering and his eyes started to droop. Phil hissed as he was gently shaken from side to side.
“Hey. I need you to stay awake. Steve threw you around pretty hard.”
Not this again. Phil jerked about as the hand he was held in gently laid him down on his stomach. His wings were spread out to their full length. The man was gentle as he carefully held something against his injured wing, before strapping it on to his feathers. Phil shook with exhaustion as the man wrapped his wing once, twice, three times before the hands cradled him upward and placed him back in his temporary bed. The hands burritoed him in a soft blanket.
He just wanted to sleep.
“Okay…I’m gonna let you get some sleep.”
Hm? Did he say that out loud? His eyes flickered.
“I’ll be back in a few hours, okay?”
Phil didn’t answer. Instead, he rolled over and drifted.
The next time Phil opened his eyes, however long that was, the full severity of his situation hit him. Though the shock of it pretty much had him lying there, just staring up at the ceiling.
He was trapped with a broken wing, with a human holding him captive. It wasn’t as bad as….er, however long ago. But it still hurts. Everything hurt. Ring down to his very soul.
Okay that might’ve been an over exaggeration. But his point still stood. His head pounded as he tried to sit up. But when his body wouldn’t respond to his needs, eventually Phil gave up on trying to sit, so he just turned over onto his side, wincing heavily at the pain that stabbed at his wing. His eyes didn’t seem to want to focus-
Er, wait a second. He removed his left arm from the burrito and reached out in front of him. No. His eyes were fine. It was whatever he was trapped in that warped his vision. Phil unraveled his right arm. His claws tapped the plastic material. He immediately recognized it. The humans had something like this in some of their cabinets. Their purpose still remains a mystery to him, but apparently, they were using it to keep him in one place for now. Not that he was going anywhere.
He pushed the blanket off him further. His arms were stiff, not wanting to work, but Phil managed it. Barely. He pulled his right wing out from underneath the blanket, then went for the next. Only to slam his teeth shut in a broken off scream.
His left wing….. What the hell was wrong with his left wing?! He tried to pull it forward, to see what the damage was, only to find he couldn’t bring the left one to move. Something held it closed. Which he supposed was a good thing, considering it hurt like a bitch, but it also caused an issue. One that could be labeled under the ‘there’s-no-way-I-can-escape-with-a-broken-wing’ file.
Phil flopped back down into the mess of rags that he was cocooned in, already sapped of energy despite his minimal movements. Maybe…maybe if he could rest just a little bit. Get his strength back and think of a way down. It would be relatively easy to scale down whatever he was on if he was careful. And then, from there he could find a tunnel-
The door creaked open. Phil trapped a gasp of surprise in this throat before quickly slamming his eyes shut and evened out his breathing. His body went limp on command, though his heart still skipped a beat with each approaching step muffled on the carpet flooring.
Even breaths, even breaths, don’t let him know you’re awake…. Phil thought. His instincts yelled at him to move, get out, get away from the predator, but Phil knew that wouldn’t be a good idea.
Even if his wing wasn’t fucked up, he still had to contend with the fact that he was possibly still concussed. There was no way he’d be able to focus long enough to get out of here-
Oh shit the footsteps had stopped right beside him. Keep the breath even. Keep it even, Philza. The back of his neck tingled as something was raised, blocking out the low light that shined on him. The air shifted a bit, and before he knew it, there were fingers poking at him curiously. Still feigning sleep, he shifted as far from the fingers as he could get. There was a rumble above him.
“Looks like you woke up at some point huh?” The voice sounded familiar. It was deep, like the rumbling of distant thunder. It hummed as the fingers carefully brushed his injured wing, touching and brushing over the crumpled feathers. His right wing twitched instinctively. Phil didn’t like it when his wings were touched by a stranger. And this person, no doubt a human, was most definitely a stranger.“Mmmm, wing looks alright I guess. We’ll need to watch it closely.”
Phil’s heart wanted to pick up speed. He wasn’t planning on hanging around here that long. There was a sigh above him.
“I don’t know if you can hear me, but I’m sorry that this happened to you.”
The footsteps shuffled around a bit, shifting until there was the creaking of wood, a small groan, and a click. The room went silent and dark. Philza sat up, biting back a groan at his sore body. His legs shook as he stood up, grabbing ahold of the edges of the container he was in. He has to stop a scream when he laid eyes on the bed.
A human. A fucking large human, just sleeping peacefully in a bed. His chest rose and fell in steady breaths, pink hair all disheveled.
Oh…fuck. He had to get out of here.
He grabbed the side of the plastic, and hauled himself over with as little noise as he could make. His breath came in short pants, expelled through his nose as he threw his legs over the side. It was a short enough drop that Philza was easily able to right himself as soon as his feet touched the wood. His ear tuffs perked up as he held still. His eyes were locked onto the human’s back. The man hadn’t so much as shifted.
Good. Philza was not going to be staying here any longer.
He turned. It was hard to see where he was going in the dark, but thankfully, his eyes could see just a little bit into the pitch. There was….there was a ledge right in front of him. Philza approached it cautiously, peering over the side. It was too dark to tell how far the drop was. With his left wing broken, he couldn’t fly properly. But he could bear through the pain of gliding. If he could reach the floor, then he could walk home.
Not ideal, certainly not the best option. But Philza was desperate to get out.
He reached behind him and carefully undid the splint that held his injured wing shut. When unraveled, it hung limply at his side, unable to close all the way shut. He hissed at the pain, cutting his eyes over to the human.
Still asleep. Still unaware.
It was now or never.
He perched on the edge, falling into a crouch. If he could get enough of a jump at the right angle, then he’d be able to glide safely to the ground. There was some shuffling behind him.
“What the- hey don’t do that!”
The voice startled him. He lurched forward, form all but forgotten. Philza instinctively gave his wings a flap, trying to catch himself before he plummeted to his death. But his left wing gave out too much pain for him to think clearly. His vision whited out. His footing slipped.
He was falling.
Falling to his death…
He closed his eyes, waiting for the pain to greet him-
Something slid open beneath him. Instead of hard floors like he expected to meet his body, Philza let out a little oomph when he collided with something soft. It didn’t hurt, but it certainly knocked the wind out of his sails for a moment. He laid there, the soft things cradling his body while he tried to calm his breathing. When his heart quit pounding like a drum, Philza opened his eyes.
His heart might as well have stopped in fear.
Looming over him, blinking those big brown eyes was none other than the human Technoblade. The biggest human to live in the home. The one that could walk so quietly, you wouldn’t know he was there until he was right on top of you.
Techno, the one who held him hostage and was looking at him with concern. Philza let out a whimper as he scrambled backwards. Techno was reaching for him. He bumped up against something.
He was in a box…not again…he couldn’t see…there was no way to escape-
A hand reached around his middle. Philza screeched. Acting on instinct, he opened his mouth and latched onto the finger. Techno yelped in pain as he pulled back. It allowed Philza a few minutes to breathe, a few seconds to get his brain organized. He didn’t get as much time as he wanted to. The hand returned and this time it didn’t hesitate to wrap itself around him, squeezing like a snake. Philza cried out, scrambling for a hand hold, to keep him from being dragged out. There wasn’t anything for him to grab onto, except for the bundles of fabric. Nothing was held down enough for the man to gain resistance. He was pulled out of the drawer and held in the air.
Techno pulled him close to his face. Philza flapped his wings as much as he could, only to cry out with a flap of his injured wing. The human’s eyes went wide as he continued to fight, trying to claw his way out of the grip. Other than a few small lines of red, there was nothing that he could injure Techno enough for him to escape.
A light switched on. Philza screeched as the light pierced his eyes, forcing him to slam his hands over his face. He was placed down on the counter again, held down by a palm as big as he was.
Philza was still. His breath caught in his throat.
One little push downward, and Philza would be nothing but a grease stain. He dared to twitch a little when the hand pushed a little bit.
“Hold still, I’ve gotta check your wing.”
Philza cried out as his injured wing was straightened. Above him, Techno hummed.
“Looks like you didn’t hurt it too badly. We’re gonna have to re-wrap it though.”
The hand lifted up, just enough for Philza, in his adrenaline-filled state, to try for another attempt. He pulled himself out from underneath the hand, only to have it seize him once more. He whimpered as the hands started to replace the splint onto his wing. By the time it was done, Philza was all but limp, exhausted and spent. He was tired.
Vaguely, he heard the human above him sigh heavily as he was carefully lifted upward.
“Try to get some sleep, little dude. And no flying!”
Philza was placed back into the container, which was positioned just a bit closer to the bed. The two of them made eye contact with each other, and Philza couldn’t help but wilt at the intense gaze.
“I’m a light sleeper. And I can always put you in something a bit more….capable of containing you.” The man said. It sent a chill down his spine as Techno closed his eyes and fell back asleep.
Philza stayed like that, eyes staring up at the ceiling, wondering if he was going to make it back home, until he drifted off to sleep.
~.~
The second attempt at escape was made a day later. Technoblade was in and out of the room, apparently doing some repair work. Philza watched him come and go, counting the times between each visit. At one point, it was about an hour before Techno poked his head back in to see if he was still alive. Then, there was another hour where Philza was left alone.
Then another….
And then another….
Now was the time for escape.
Philza threw the covers off him, and climbed over the container. He couldn’t fly or glide down, since his wing was still messed up. Not to mention the fact that Techno could walk back in at any moment and when he found that Philza was trying to escape-
Well, he didn’t know what he would do if he were caught. Philza swallowed. The man certainly didn’t want to be around when that happened. He glanced around the room, trying to find a way down.
There was no way he could get down easily. Philza balked at the drop that greeted him when he peered over the edge of the dresser. HIs heart fell to his feet when he realized that he nearly fell down that ledge the previous night.
Oh boy.
There was no way out, he nearly wailed. He was trapped with a broken wing, hurting and concussed. But Kristin….
Kristin was probably worried about him right now. Probably wondering where he could be.
Okay…you’ve got this Philza. We need to think, formulate. The ledge isn’t the only way down. You can do this! You can make a rope… if you don’t have enough fabric…..hmmm, what’s the next best thing-
The window. Philza stood and made his way toward the large window that sat just a bit above the bed. He licked his lips, trying his best to form a plan.
He needed to get out of here and the window was most definitely the best option at the moment. If he could make it outside, then he could access the outside tunnels. If Philza remembered correctly, then there was a hidden tunnel entrance just outside the window he was staring at. His wing would be an issue, making him sitting duck against hawks or any other predator that might be lurking, waiting to snatch up a wounded and grounded borrower.
But he could do it.
All he needed to do was to get to the sill and get the latch undone.
Easy enough.
He hobbled his way across the desk, stopping just before the ledge. There wasn’t much of a gap between the desk and the bed, and if he angled himself just right, then he’d make it onto the bed. There might be a bit of a bounce, but Philza hoped that he would be okay. With a lick of his lips and a couple of moments of hype, a few choice words to himself, Philza stepped back. With a quick jog, he leapt upward into the air. There was a moment of freefall and then he landed on the mattress with a soft thump.
Philza bounced a couple of times, struggling to right himself, before he stopped. He glanced up, at the window sill. It was a….little higher up than he had first thought. He growled angrily. With both his wings, then he would be able to get to the window without too much trouble.
With only one of his wings functional….it definitely will be a challenge.
“Well…Kristin always says I love challenges,” Philza whispered to himself. If only to have some semblance of sound. He blew a puff of air out. “Okay. Here we go.”
He took a step backwards, eyeing the walls and windowsill upward and downward. He bit his lip. Maybe he could climb the curtains?
The door behind him creaked open. Philza froze. But instead of the normal thundering steps of the mighty Technoblade it was a gentle click-click-click of clawed feet on the wooden floor. A soft woof could be heard, causing Philza to stop breathing.
Oh-
The steps got closer to the bed, closer and closer to an injured Philza. A Philza that was downed and grounded and couldn’t escape-
Shit, it was the dog. The fucking dog that started all of this mess.
Deep breathes Philza. Deep breathes. Just…don’t make any sudden movements. His feathers puffed up in aggression, his one free wing flaring out to make himself bigger. He tensed even more, trembling a bit in fear as the cold nose of the dog touched the area right between his wings.
Oh gods-
The nose expelled a blast of warm, wet air. Philza couldn’t help but shut his eyes, tears falling down his cheeks as the nose explored a little bit more over him. A tongue darted out to lick his back, smearing slobber all over his body. The man dared to take a hesitant step forward, out of the shadow of the massive animal that could snap his neck with a few shakes of its head. But the tongue moved forward, following him closely as it once again moved up his back and over his head. There would be a streak of disgust had not the feeling of fear been so prominent. When the giant nose nudged at him, Philza slowly turned around, eyes wide at the great big beast before him.
He didn’t see the dog before the first incident. But now, he could. And he nearly had a heart attack right then and there.
The dog was huge. With blond, nearly pure white fur that honestly looked really fluffy, Phil couldn’t help but see a beast that could wrap its teeth around him and squeeze. He whimpered at the image. The beast before him whined, high and low before scooting forward. Philza fell back, tripping over his own feet as the dog leapt onto the bed with ease and began sniffing at him.
“No, no, no, no, no, no.” Phil repeated like a mantra. The tongue continued to lick him up and down, covering him with gooey saliva. His breathing became erratic. And a moment later instincts took hold. A chirp escaped his lips as he tried to run.
That was the worst thing to do, he was taught. Animals like dogs see him as prey. They were predators that would not hesitate to go after something that ran. He was prey falling into the trap of a predator.
But with pain and fear and desperation fueling his instincts all Philza could think was ‘RUN-RUN-RUN-‘
Calls for Flock to help, to warn them of a predator escaped his lips as he struggled to get around the covers that were partially strewn about. The dog, he could feel it oh gods, leapt on the bed. The whole thing shook with the force.
Philza tripped. He fell.
Two white legs entered his vision. One on either side of him.
This was it.
The maw enclosed around him gently, never squeezing too hard but enough to hold him. Philza lost his chance to escape when the dog started to hop off the bed and trot out of the room. He scratched at the dog’s maw, though aside from a gentle ‘woof’ of displeasure and a slight shake of the head, nothing else happened. Philza was trapped inside the mouth of an animal that could kill him.
He panicked, falling into the thrall of his instincts. Philza lost all awareness as the dog continued to travel through the house. The man screamed out warning to any flock that might be near that there was danger. No telling who or what else might be lurking around the corners, waiting to snag the other members of his family.
Oh gods Kristin might be out there somewhere-
The dog moved through the hallways with a lazy gait, ignoring Philza’s panicked chirps until they reached a little alcove, nosing the door open just wide enough for him to enter. Phil was unceremoniously dropped onto a dog bed, and immediately started to make a break for it. Only to have the dog pick him up again and place him back in the center of the fluffy bed.
He froze as the dog laid down next to him. Though the chirps were still flowing out of his mouth, they were certainly a lot quieter now that the danger was looming over him. Along with all those teeth.
FLOCK-FLOCK-HELP-DANGER-DANGER-DANGER-
The dog sniffed at him carefully, nostrils flaring as humid air expelled outward. Philza stayed as still as his instincts allowed him to be while the dog sniffed at him, but he squirmed when the tongue started to drag over him, as though the dog was cleaning. Ugh, this was worse than being eaten-
“Hey Tech?”
Philza froze. All distressed chirps fell quiet at the sound of a new voice. A voice that certainly wasn’t Technoblade.
“I think Steve got a hold of a bird again. I’m hearing chirping.”
The dog was still licking his hair, covering him with nasty slobber. He didn’t know if he should feel more afraid of the dog and its really big teeth or the new human that lingered somewhere outside the room.
“Alright, I’ll go check it out.”
That right there was Technoblade. And as much as he despised the man for keeping him hostage, Philza was more or less relieved to know that he was coming to save him. The door opened up wide, outlining the giant, pink-haired human like some white knight. Never before had he been so happy to see a human. Philza’s instincts latched onto the sight of the human looming over him and the dog. He screeched louder.
PLEASE-FLOCK-FLOCK-NOT SAFE-DANGER-DANGER-DANGER-HELP!
Technoblade sighed as he knelt down after crossing the room. Somehow, he sounded just a tad bit disappointed. “I thought I told you to stay put.”
Philza squirmed away from the dog, but flinched when it growled deeply. A warning.
“C’mon now Steve. He’s not a toy and he certainly isn't a pup.” Technoblade slowly placed a hand on top of the dog’s head, giving it gentle scratches while the other hand slowly reached out and grabbed Philza. All cries and chirps for help stopped as soon as he was out from underneath the dog. He would be embarrassed that he snuggled up close to the human’s chest like a fledgling after a nightmare.
That was a problem for Future Philza, when he came out of his instincts.
For now though, he was content to be held in the warmth of the man’s calloused hands. After all the excitement, the warmth was nice. A thumb gently started to rub over his head, as if to soothe the occasional chirp of fear. There was a grunt of disgust above him.
Philza cooed out a questioning chirp. Did he upset the Flock Protector?
“Did Steve give you a bath with his tongue?! You’re absolutely covered in dog slobber.”
Philza whined.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll get some moist toilettes and we’ll wash you down.”
That sounded nice. He laid his head down, comforted in the fact that he was being held safely and that he was warm. His eyes were heavy as they traveled back through the hallways. Philza ignored the voices that were conversing above him, pouting when Flock Protector covered him up with his other hand. But it made it extra dark and cozy, so he wasn’t complaining too much.
He didn’t know how much walking they did before they got back to the bedroom. Eventually Flock Protector placed him into the plastic container, and Philza watched him intently as he dug through the drawers of his desk. What was he doing? What was he looking for? Could Philza help? Philza was something of an expert at finding things!
Technoblade let out an exclamation of victory as he pulled out a wide mouthed jar. He held it up, expecting it for something, before setting it down next to Philza. The winged man trilled a question.
“I don’t know why you keep moving about when you’re still healing, but I’m going to make sure you’re gonna stay put until your wing gets better.” Techno reached in and gently pulled him out, holding him as he transferred some of the blankets into the jar. Philza watched, enthralled until the man slowly started to put him inside the jar.
No, it was too small! He flailed about, his chirps spilling out of his mouth.
“I know you don’t like it. I know, I know, but this is just temporary. Just until I can find that old birdcage. You’re going to be okay. I’m not going to put the lid on or anything. I’m not a complete monster.”
Philza clawed at the glass frantically. What gods did he piss off to be put in this situation where he was constantly being transported from one prison to another?
He backed up against the glass when Techno leaned downward. His mind was still trapped in a state of panic that held him in a vice grip.
“You are going to stay there. Okay? I’m gonna go find that old bird cage. It may be a little bit so just hang tight.”
He felt tears cloud his eyes as the human walked off and left the room. The only one to hear his calls for flock was him.
~.~
A couple hours later when Philza came out of his instincts, he was mortified about his behavior.
But more importantly, he was determined to make this next escape his last. Technoblade had been gone for a while, leaving Philza in a wide-lipped jar. Philza stood up and with all his might, he threw his weight against the side. It titled and then finally spilled him out on top of the desk. Philza turned, his hands quick to tie each of the rags that were placed in the jar into a knot. One by one, they slowly became (hopefully) long enough to put him down near the ground. The man tied it to the closest drawer handle. He tugged on it harshly to make sure it was secure.
It was.
He sighed as he slid down the rope. He got closer and closer to the ground, the air whistling through his ears. As soon as his feet hit the ground, Philza darted into the shadow of the dresser. The door was closed, there were no sounds on the other side….
All clear.
Just across the room there was a hidden tunnel. He could get there easily. He could dip inside of it, head back to Kristin….
He was almost there.
Philza held his breath, counting down to five before he left the shadows. He ran as hard as he could, his legs pumping as fast as his heart was beating. Adrenaline flowed through his veins. The room was big, but somehow it was even bigger in his panic. Philza tripped, his legs quickly righting themselves before he pushed on.
The door opened.
Philza was still out in the open. Still a ways away from the entrance of the tunnel. He didn’t want to be caught by Technoblade again. Who knows what would happen if the man found him out and about again. Philza was not going to test the man’s patience on this, so with a quick glance around the room, he decided the best place to hide was a sock that was on the ground. He darted inside it, laying as still and as quiet as he could. He slammed a hand over his mouth to keep the chirps from flying. He heard the door open, footsteps walking into the room. It wasn’t Technoblade, that much was certain. Especially with how light the steps were.
“Honestly, Tech,” the high pitched voice whispered. “I thought you were the neat freak here.”
Philza felt the breath leave him as a hand curled around the sock he was hiding in. His stomach flipped when he was tossed into something. It was too late to escape, unless he wanted to be seen.
But would that be preferable to wherever he was being taken?
While Philza pondered his dilemma, tempted to jump out and take his chances, the owner of the voice was taking him somewhere. Whatever he was in, it was set down. A door was opened.
Hands scooped up Philza and tossed him into something.
Oh no.
Oh shit!
This wasn't good.
Phil crawled out of the sock, but then it was too late. There were clothes all over on top of him. By the time he had scrambled out of the pile, the door was closed. Philza was, once again, trapped in a new prison.
And by the steady stream of water flowing down like a waterfall near the back, his time was running down.
He threw himself back, slamming up against the clear plastic window, pushing with all his might. It wouldn’t budge!
Damn it!
The water was still climbing, getting higher and higher. It splashed about behind him, filling up the space with each passing moment. His breath hitched as he drew his wings further closer to him. They weren’t gonna save him, not in this situation.
“HEEEEEEEELLP!” He shouted. His fist pounded on the door until it ached. He pushed and pushed, throwing his shoulder into it until that too smarted.
The water was still rising, now reaching the top of the clothes pile.
Philza’s time was running out. Oh gods, he was going to die here, wasn’t he? Far away from his wife, from his home? Honestly, this wasn’t how he thought he’d go out.
Call him a pessimist, but he thought that he’d died either fighting off a predator or something. It would’ve been a cool way to go out, but instead he was stuck in a human’s machine, and was going to drown.
The water was reaching just above his chest. Philza turned back around, nearly sobbing at the sight of Technoblade right outside the machine. Oh gods, he was going to be saved. Philza renewed his banging on the door, invigorated by hope.
“TECHNOBLADE! TECHNOBLADE, PLEASE! TURN AROUND, I’M TRAPPED HERE!” The man didn’t turn around. Instead, his head snapped up and he walked out of the room. “No, no, no, no, no! Come back! Where are you going? I’m here! Right behind you!”
It was no use. Technoblade was gone. The water was now at his chin. He sobbed.
“Somebody please…..help me.”
He kicked upward, following the rise of the water until his head touched the top of the machine. The clothes were floating around him. A sock had wrapped around his ankle, the wet fabric dragging him underneath. He took a big breath of air before he went under. His wings were soaked dragging him down even farther.
The machine gave a twitch, the water shaking back and forth. Philza closed his eyes, not wanting to be aware that he was about to be tossed around in the spin cycle. His lungs were starting to ache. The spin cycle was starting. Something slammed into him, knocking what little air he had out of him. His mouth opened and on reflex inhaled. Lungs filled with water as the world started to blacken.
He just wanted to see Kristin one more time….
The world suddenly became a roaring rapid of noise and light. Philza felt himself spill out of the machine, with the water and clothes following him. Air rushed his lungs, thankfully dispelling the water that had entered. There was darkness over him, clinging to his body like an uncomfortable second skin.
“Where are you, little guy? Come on, come on.”
Oh, that was Technoblade. The thing over him was removed and- Ah. A wet t-shirt.
“Holy shit! Are you okay!?” Techno was asking. Philza just continued to cough the last remaining water out. When he was finished, he went limp, allowing Technoblade to gently scoop him up. “Oh god, I’m so sorry this happened! Uh…how did htis happ- You know what, I’ll figure that out later. Let’s get you dry.”
Philza was barely aware of what was going on around him. He was barely aware of the human man carefully drying him off, and then placing him at the bottom of a cage. He said some more words, something about getting some rest, then he left the room again.
This was his life now. He wasn’t getting out of this cage.
He would never see Kristin again.
With that acceptance in his fate, Philza sighed, snuggling up with the blankets around him and fell asleep.
~.~
Within the walls of the house, a woman with rich brown wings paced back and forth within a little cobbled together home. She was surrounded by furniture and things that she and her husband made. It was a cozy little place that was their sanctuary, a place where they could leave the dangers of the outside world behind them and come into somewhere safe. It was a place where they could relax.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t relax. Not with the fact that her husband had been missing for the past few days. She feared he was dead, possibly eaten by a cat or caught by a hawk or something, but then she heard the sound of a warning call, just on the other side of the wall. It was faint, muffled by layers of drywall, but loud enough that she had caught the last few echoes of it. By the time she went to answer it, to assure him that she was right there and coming for him, the calls had stopped. But despite the eerie silence, despite the chills that it sent up her spine, it gave her hope.
Philza was still alive. Possibly trapped by those humans that lived just on the other side of the walls. Kristin may’ve been a borrower. May’ve been only as tall as a human’s thumb, but she was a woman who was pissed.
And she was going to use that energy to rescue her husband.
Come hell or high water, she was going to save him.