Not All Heroes

Chapter 3

He had taken them to a family cabin.

It was the summertime, and the boys had just turned 9. By that time, years of being mistaken for each other began to give them the urge to be individuals, and not two of the same person. Perhaps for children, being identical in all recognizable features was fun, but they were growing older now, and they felt that their image should reflect themselves.

And Phil was glad, because the older they got, the harder it became to tell the two apart. Wilbur was very slowly becoming calmer, though his charismatic nature was just beginning to make an appearance in his speech and mannerisms. Techno on the other hand was slowly becoming louder, his shell cracking as he began experimenting with opening himself up to others who weren't his brother.

In short, they were beginning to learn from each other, but in turn were becoming the same person. In short, they were twins that were too similar for the comfort of even themselves.

Phil let them roam free in the surrounding area, a forest unlike the hiking trail he found them in oh so long ago. He watched them run into the shadows of the trees, the bright green grass matching the colour he loved so much, the colour of the jacket on his arms and over his shoulders.

It was their idea to return to the forest for a few days in the summer. He had a suspicion for the reason why.

They asked him if he was capable of flying once, and he laughed it off as a ridiculous idea. But by then, they were capable of reading the man like an open book, perhaps more open than he would like. And he saw the way they looked at each other conspiratorially, an understanding passing between them silently. He wondered what they saw in his response, whether his wings fluttered or twitched on his back at the thought, as the prospect of the possibility entered his mind, that perhaps he could, if only he ever had the courage to try.

So perhaps this was their idea of encouragement; a time away from the city, amongst the trees where no one could see them. Where he could — if he wanted — try stretching his wings and fly.

And some part of him was curious. Some dreamlike part of him thought that maybe he could, that the possibility was there. But he also knew that logically, it was impossible. Logically, wings were not enough to bring a human being airborne. Logically, humans were not supposed to and should never leave the land.

Clearly, logic was not something that he was built out of though, as his wings ruffled under his jacket, suddenly claustrophobic. With a sigh, he removed it, the fabric a binding that he finally untied, muscles aching from being trapped for so long.

He had to admit that there was a freedom to it, the simple act of feeling each feather being brushed by the wind as he looked out from the deck to the lake beyond the trees. But still, doubt and sanity kept him grounded, kept him glued to the wooden floor even as he felt the soft down feathers brush against the back of his neck like a dare.

It was what made him sit down on the steps that led to the grassy road, watching the wind ripple that water's surface, the sun creating an effect that left light dancing on the waves like stars.

He didn't know when he began to drift off, only that he was awoken by the sounds of the twins in the distance, calling out his name as they ran out of the forest.

"Phil!"

"Dad!"

He pushed himself up against the wooden banister that he leaned against, aching with a pain that only he could ever feel. He stood and stretched with a yawn, and the muscles on his back did the same, spreading to their full wingspan of unkempt feathers before settling back calmly once more as he prepared to greet the boys.

But the closer they came, the more Phil began to realize that they had brought something else with them.

Something small and orange found itself tucked in Wilbur's arms as he ran, Techno coming close behind with a matching speed. Something that looked to be the size of a baby... Something furry and—

"Look what I found!" Wilbur cried proudly, lifting the creature up so that he could get a proper look, bewilderment and shock preventing him from reacting with anything but utter confusion.

Because what Wilbur had held in his arms was a fox, a wee thing that didn't struggle, didn't fight in the child's arms, only seemed to stare miserably into Phil's blue eyes as he was shown off like a prize that was won at a county fair.

Too many questions filled his head, thoughts like the sound of a thousand bees deafening him. He attempted to get a word out, but the only sound that left his mouth was the beginnings of words turning into air, silence, and just noises of complete bafflement.

"I told you he wouldn't like it." Techno said matter-of-factly, and in response Wilbur frowned, holding the poor creature to his chest, tears welling up in his eyes.

"No! It's not—" Phil said in a panic, words still struggling to reach his tongue. "I just— How'd you catch... it? I—"

"His name is Fundy." the boy said brightly, the tears that were going to fall down his cheeks suddenly gone. "He told me."

The man laughed at that, the tension suddenly releasing from him as he suddenly understood. It was a child's game, it was their imagination, it was the boy playing pretend and getting lucky. Naming the fox after a character from a cartoon or a television show, playing a game of pretend—

Except the kids were dead silent, looking at each other in confusion. And Phil stopped laughing, suddenly concerned.

"You— you're being serious."

"Wilbur says that Fundy's looking for his parents." Techno added helpfully. "And you helped us—"

"I took you in—!"

"Can we adopt Fundy, Dad?" Wilbur interjected suddenly, brightly, hopefully. "If we can't find his parents of course, and then if he doesn't have a mum and a dad like us — not saying you're not our dad Dad, but—"

Phil very badly wanted to say no. In every way, there was no good reason as to why a wild animal should be taken out of its environment and brought into an apartment complex that he's pretty sure doesn't even allow pets anyways. And plus, the more he watched the poor creature beginning to regret its life choices, the more he found himself sympathising with the animal more than he did with the twins. He could understand the disappointment it felt when it got caught, the mental agony it must be suffering through from the humiliation of being shown off...

"Wait, What do you mean by told you?" He asked, the question he wanted to ask finally clicking into place in his head. "You keep saying that the fox told you these things."

"Yeah!" Wilbur bobbed his head without elaborating further. Like it was the most normal thing in the world. Like it explained itself.

"Like you're hearing stuff in your head or...?"

"No?" The boy laughed nervously, glancing back at his brother. "Can't you hear them too, Dad?"

Phil hesitated, before crouching down to eye level with the younger child. And even then, he still paused, trying to collect his thoughts.

"Wilbur," He said, carefully choosing his words. "Can you talk to animals?"

"Am I not supposed to?"

That was more than enough confirmation for the winged man, who didn't even bother answering the question, who stood up in complete silence and walked into the house for another cup of coffee.

That was not the information he expected to learn today.

"So can we keep him?" The child's confused voice carried into the room as he sat down, warming his face with the aroma of roasted beans. Phil could hear Techno chanting encouragingly in the background; "Keep him! Keep him! Keep him!"

"Give me a minute." He called back, dread building in him as he began to think about what he was going to say. How he was going to explain that understanding anything that wasn't human or a machine wasn't normal, and how he was going to explain that they just couldn't bring random wild animals home.