#a;ksmdf apparently this whole thing ended up being almost 3k words

[thelastspeecher]

Human Again

I’ve got some other things I’m planning on posting the next couple weeks, after I’m done with finals (got one left; tomorrow morning).  But here’s a couple scenes from the Phoenix Enchantment AU that I’ve written in between things recently.  It’s...pretty long.  Normally I post things more quickly, so they don’t build up like this did.  Fiddleford and Ford figure out who Prometheus and Pele are, and after some good news, the birds get some pretty upsetting news.  It starts immediately after Fiddleford and Ford get back from Pinatubo’s vet appointment.  Enjoy.

               Ford opened the front door.

               “That went much better than I expected,” he said cheerfully to Fiddleford. Fiddleford nodded.

               “Yessir.  Pele was on her best behavior, and was keepin’ Pinatubo calm just like we hoped she would.  We should give ‘em a big ole treat later.”

               “Agreed.  I- holy shit.”  Ford cut off his sentence upon seeing the destruction in the living room.  “What the hell happened?”  The hardwood floor was full of long scratches, cushions had been torn, and pieces of ripped paper were scattered everywhere.

               “Darn it, I should’ve known better ‘n to leave Prometheus loose,” Fiddleford muttered.  There was a small chirp from the carrier he was holding.  “Pele, yer mate messed up the house big time.”  Ford frowned at the scratches in the floor.

               “Those almost look like letters,” Ford said slowly.  He crossed over to the other side and gazed down. His eyes widened.  “They are letters.”

               “Prometheus can write?” Fiddleford asked, aghast.  He set down the carrier and joined Ford.  “Oh, my.  It looks like a message.”

               “It says…‘We’re really Stan and Angie, you assholes’,” Ford read aloud. He froze.  “But that’s-”  Pele began to screech from inside the carrier.  Fiddleford rushed back to the carrier to open it.  Pele stormed out and continued to squawk passionately, pacing back and forth, flapping her wings and bobbing her head in an approximation of gesticulating.  Ford and Fiddleford watched her tirade silently.  After a few minutes, she stopped, breathing heavily.  Fiddleford got down on his knees and stared at the phoenix.

               “Angie?” Fiddleford asked weakly.  Pele let out a small croak.  “Yer- yer a bird?”  She nodded.

               “That’s impossible,” Ford said.

               “This is Gravity Falls,” Fiddleford snapped.  “I doubt anything’s impossible here.”  His eyes widened.  “If- if Prometheus and Pele are Stan and Angie, then- then lil Pinatubo’s our niece! Stanford, we took our niece to the vet!”

               “Fiddleford, it’s quite possible Pele and Prometheus are just lashing out at us for taking their chick from them,” Ford said.  “They’re quite intelligent, after all, and have heard us talk about our missing siblings before.”  Pele squawked indignantly.

               “No, this is Angie,” Fiddleford said softly, looking at Pele again.  “I can see it in her eyes.”  Pele trilled at him.  “I’m so sorry, lil sis.  Let’s take ya back upstairs and get yer baby settled in.  Then we can discuss what to do.”  Pele nodded and walked back into the carrier.  Fiddleford closed the door.

               “Fiddleford, I still don’t completely believe-” Ford started.

               “Oh, hush,” Fiddleford said snippily.  He walked away.

----- 

               After reaching the attic landing, Fiddleford set the carrier on the floor and opened it.  Pele burst out, flying to Prometheus at the food stand and chirping at him busily. Fiddleford carefully placed Pinatubo in the nest.  He sighed.

               “I’m so sorry, Stan ‘n Angie,” he said in a low voice.  The phoenixes looked at him.  He turned away.  There was a flash of light and two loud thuds. Fiddleford spun around.  On the floor, dazed and fully nude, were Stan and Angie.  “What?!” Fiddleford yelped.  Stan stood up woozily.  He grabbed the nearby food stand for support.

               “Fuck, I feel weird,” Stan groaned in a voice that creaked from lack of use.  He looked at the food stand and gaped.  “Holy shit. Holy shit, I have fingers again!” Stan stretched out his hands, flexing his fingers.  “I won’t take ‘em for granted anymore.”  He looked down at Angie, who seemed more disoriented than him.  “Babe?”  Stan took Angie by the hand and pulled her up.  She abruptly slumped against him.  “You all right?”

               “Ugh, I feel like- like I have the world’s worst hangover,” Angie croaked.  Her eyes suddenly widened.  “Molly! We have to-”  She looked over at the nest, skipping over Fiddleford initially, but then looking back at him.  “Fidds!”

               “A- Angie?  Stan? Yer- yer-” Fiddleford stammered. He ran a hand through his hair. “I- oh, Lord, I’m so sorry, I-” He paused.  “Who’s Molly?”

               “Our daughter,” Stan said.  Fiddleford looked over at the nest.

               “That’s her name?”

               “Yeah.  Like we’d actually use the weird one Ford came up with,” Stan scoffed.  He looked at Angie.  “Think you can stand on your own?  I’ll grab Molly.”

               “I’ll be fine,” Angie mumbled.  She stood straighter, still wobbling slightly.  “Fidds, you have no clue how nice it is fer someone to understand us when we talk again.”

               “Oh, my poor baby sister, it must’ve been awful, so long bein’ birds,” Fiddleford whispered.

               “Pretty much,” Angie said with a weak grin.  Stan yelped.  Angie looked over at the nest.  “What’s wrong?”                “Molly, she-”  Stan turned around.  Instead of a small phoenix chick, he was holding a human infant.  Angie gaped.  “She turned human.”

               “Whatever made us turn back, it must’ve worked on her, too,” Angie whispered. Stan walked over to her. “Oh!  Look at her lil toes, and her lil fingers and- she has twelve fingers!”

               “That explains the extra talons,” Stan said.  He tickled Molly’s stomach.  She giggled, then began to fuss loudly.  “Dammit.  She never stops makin’ noise.”

               “Babies usually don’t,” Fiddleford said.  “No matter the species.”  Angie and Stan nodded silently.  “What happened?”

               “I don’t know,” Stan said.  He looked at Angie.  “Ang?”

               “Yer guess is as good as mine.”  She froze.  “Stanley.”

               “Yeah?”

               “We’re naked.”

               “So?”

               “Let me modify that.  We’re naked, and human,” Angie said.  Stan stared at her.  

               “Shit,” Stan said.  He looked at Fiddleford.  “Mind getting us some clothes?”  Fiddleford turned red; it hadn’t hit him until then that he’d been conversing with two completely naked adults.

               “Sure, sure, I’ll grab the two- three of ya somethin’.”

----- 

               Ford hurried into the kitchen.  Fiddleford was sitting at the table, playing with Molly’s hands.  Stan and Angie were nowhere to be found.

               “You didn’t call anyone yet, did you?” Ford asked Fiddleford.  Fiddleford shook his head.

               “No, sir.  We were ‘bout to, but Angie had to rush off to the bathroom.  She must’ve eaten somethin’ her stomach disagreed with.  Stan went to check on her.”  Fiddleford frowned.  “I guess after so long without eatin’ certain types of food, her body forgot how to digest it.”

               “That’s…not why,” Ford said in a low voice.  “I figured out what triggered their initial transformation.” Fiddleford’s face went pale.

               “Yer not usin’ a very upbeat tone.”

               “No.  I’m not.” Ford sat next to Fiddleford and set the bestiary he had brought in on the table.  He smiled weakly at Molly.  “Hello, Molly.”  Molly giggled.  “She seems to be in a better mood than she was before.”

               “The turnin’ human prob’ly discombobulated her,” Fiddleford said. “But she’s settled in a bit.  Got used to havin’ fingers ‘n toes.”

               “Just watch, in five minutes, she’s gonna start screamin’,” Stan said, walking into the kitchen, Angie close behind him.  He sat at the table and took Molly from Fiddleford.  “That’s how it works with ya, isn’t it, Rooster?”  Molly giggled again.  

               “Feelin’ better?” Fiddleford asked Angie.  She nodded and sat next to Stan.  “I wonder what ya ate.”

               “Did you have any dairy products?” Ford asked.  

               “I had some ice cream,” Angie said.  

               “That would be the cause of it,” Ford said.  Now bouncing Molly on one knee, Stan frowned at Ford.

               “What makes you so sure, Sixer?”

               “Because…”  Ford leaned forward and clasped his hands together.  He took a steadying breath.  “Your situation isn’t temporary.”

               “What do you mean?” Angie asked.

               “You’ll revert to your avian forms within 48 hours,” Ford mumbled reluctantly.  Stan stared silently at him.  Angie froze. “It- I found out what caused your initial transformation.  Apparently, in Gravity Falls, there’s an enchantment in place that selects humans to serve as the area’s breeding phoenix pair, should the current one leave.”

               “That’s fucked up,” Stan said after a moment.  

               “Yes.  It is. The enchantment allows for the breeding pair to adopt a human form every month during a full moon outside of mating season.”

               “It’s been a lot of full moons since we got enchanted,” Angie pointed out.

               “It was only after Fiddleford recognized you, that you could transform. That’s a component of the spell, but I’m not sure why.”  Ford ran a hand through his hair.  “Judging by the lunar calendar this month, you’ll only be in a human form until the sunrise after tomorrow’s.”

               “And then we’re birds again?” Angie whispered.

               “No.  The both of you are still birds, even now,” Ford said.  “You’re just in a human form.  Due to the enchantment, you’re no longer humans.  You’re phoenixes, no matter which form you take.”  Angie covered her mouth in horror, tears pricking the corners of her eyes.

               “How do we fix it?” Fiddleford interjected.  Ford closed his eyes.

               “We can’t.  The enchantment was set in place by a higher planar being with magical abilities we can’t begin to comprehend.  Stan, Angie, I’m sorry.”

               “No,” Angie sobbed.  Stan put an arm around her shoulders and squeezed tightly.

               “Fiddleford and myself, we can arrange for whatever you want, regarding your human identities,” Ford said.  “And until you leave, we’ll do our best to make you comfortable in the attic.”

               “Unless we decide to live in the woods, we don’t have anywhere to go,” Stan whispered.  He swallowed. “We don’t have our place in San Diego anymore.  And even if we did, how- how would we pay the bills?  We can’t have jobs.”

               “Stay,” Fiddleford said suddenly.  Stan and Angie looked at him.  Fiddleford reached out and took a hold of one of Angie’s hands.  “You’ve already got a comfortable setup in the attic. We’ll take care of ya.”

               “Fidds, that’s- that’s mighty nice,” Angie said weakly.  “But I don’t think I can handle bein’ yer pet again.” She looked over at Molly, still being held by Stan, and choked back a sob.  “This mornin’, bein’ separated from Stan like that, by force and trickery, it’s- I can’t take it no more.”

               “Yeah, this morning sucked,” Stan said.  He stroked Molly’s head.  “You guys took Molly and Angie from me.  I knew you were comin’ back, but-”

               “If you stay with us, we won’t do that no more,” Fiddleford said.  “You wouldn’t be our pets.  Now we know who ya are, we’ll treat ya the right way.” Angie and Stan were silent. “We’ll give ya some time to think about it.”  Fiddleford stood up.  “Stanford, let’s go discuss how we’ll deal with Tate ‘n this mess.”

----- 

               Fiddleford walked into the bedroom he shared with Ford and closed the door.

               “I don’t think we should tell Tate,” Fiddleford said shortly.  Ford frowned at him.  “Look, he’s just a lil kid.  He could let it slip to someone, or he’d just get more confused.”

               “He deserves to know that the phoenixes are his relatives,” Ford insisted. “What’s going to happen when he gets older?  He’s going to treat his aunt, uncle, and cousins like pets.”

               “We’ll tell him not to do that.”

               “Fiddleford-”

               “Stanford, please.  The less of the Gravity Falls weirdness Tate’s exposed to, the better,” Fiddleford begged.  Ford sighed.

               “Fine.  But we’ll revisit this in a few years or so.  I don’t like keeping him in the dark, particularly given that the rest of your family will be told.”

               “Fair enough.  When he’s older, we’ll talk again.”  Fiddleford slumped against the door, his face pale.  “Stanford, I just- I can’t handle what we did to Stan ‘n Angie.  Examinin’ ‘em, takin’- takin’ ‘em to the vet, and the stunt we pulled this mornin’.  We- we effectively stole Stan’s wife and child from him.”

               “They aren’t married.”

               “Stanford.”

               “But I understand,” Ford said softly.  “I- I examined my twin and Angie, took notes on their…bedroom behavior.” His stomach abruptly plummeted. “Sweet Moses.  Fiddleford, I recorded my twin and your younger sister having sex.”  He dragged his hands down his face.  “I showed pictures of my niece being conceived to an auditorium full of students. A paper is going to published that has pornography of Stan and Angie.”

               “Oh, Lord.”  Fiddleford’s pale face turned green.  “We watched our siblings’ sex tape.”  There was a knock on the door.  Fiddleford took a step back.  Stan opened the door and poked his head in.

               “Hey, uh, if you’re done talkin’, we decided what to do.”

-----

               Ford and Fiddleford followed Stan into the living room.  Angie was sitting in the armchair, holding Molly closely. Stan walked to her and whispered something.  She smiled weakly, but her tight posture didn’t relax.

               “You decided on something?” Ford asked.  Angie nodded woodenly.

               “We’ll- we’ll take you up on that offer,” Stan said quietly.  He put a comforting arm around Angie’s shoulders. “We don’t- there’s not much else we can do.”

               “Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of ya,” Fiddleford said immediately. “You’ll get everything ya need.” Angie looked down at Molly in her arms, clearly fighting back tears.  Fiddleford took a step towards her.  “Banjey…”

               “Back off,” Stan snarled.  Fiddleford blanched.  Stan shook his head.  “Sorry, Fidds.  Our, uh, our instincts are runnin’ pretty high right now.  If either of ya get close to Angie or Molly, it’s- it’s not gonna end well.  Just so ya know.”

               “Instincts?” Fiddleford asked.  Stan nodded.

               “Turns out birds have strong ones.  Can’t fight ‘em off very well.”  Stan looked at Molly.  “We wouldn’t be parents if we could.”

               “Actually, I was curious about that,” Ford said.  

               “Figured,” Stan muttered.

               “So, during mating season, was the urge to copulate-”

               “Not now,” Angie snapped.  “We’re not goin’ to talk ‘bout that right now.  Maybe never.”  She took a breath.  “We- we have some guidelines we’d like ya to follow, when we’re stuck as- stuck as-” Angie cut herself off, her eyes filling with tears.  

               “We know we’re basically gonna be your roommates that don’t pay rent,” Stan said, “but no matter how cushy the setup you have for us is, we aren’t gonna stay if things keep happenin’ like they have been.”

               “Now that we know the truth, we wouldn’t dream of that,” Ford said. “What are your demands?”

               “Demands is a strong word,” Angie mumbled.  She shook her head.  “Don’t matter.  First off, get- get rid of all yer pictures of us…makin’ Molly.”

               “Of course,” Ford said.

               “Video too.”

               “Yes.”

               “Take down the camera you have upstairs,” Stan said.  Ford nodded.

               “No more vet visits,” Angie said quietly.  She held Molly a bit tighter.  A tear fell down her cheek.  “No more.”

               “Of cou-” Fiddleford started.

               “Wait,” Ford interrupted.  Stan and Angie stared at Ford.  “We can’t just have a blanket ban on the veterinarian.”  

               “Stanford!” Fiddleford hissed.  A low growl began to emanate from the back of Stan’s throat.

               “Stanley, please,” Ford said, holding his hands up placatingly.  “I understand you were upset by what happened this morning, but-”

               “Poindexter, you and Fidds trapped my girlfriend, stole my kid from her bed, and literally held me back from them,” Stan ground out.  “‘Upset’ isn’t even close.”

               “Clearly, the surprise vet visits will stop,” Ford said.  “But you’re in bird form for most of the time now. A human doctor won’t be able to make sure you’re healthy.  A human pediatrician won’t be able to tell you your children are developing properly. What if there’s an emergency when you and Angie are in bird form?  The ER can’t do anything for you.”

               “What’s yer suggestion?” Angie asked.

               “We find someone else.  Someone experienced with the magical creatures of Gravity Falls.  And we tell them right off the bat that you aren’t normal birds.  You’re sentient.”  Angie and Stan shared a look.  After a moment, Stan nodded.

               “Okay.”

               “We’ll concede to bein’ data fer yer research,” Angie said.  “But whenever ya want to examine Molly, one of us has to be there.  And the nonsense with invadin’ our privacy?  That’s done.” Angie glared at Ford. “Examinations can’t take our dignity no more.”

               “Fair enough,” Fiddleford said.

               “And we need to find a way fer us to communicate,” Angie said.  Fiddleford and Ford nodded.

               “Anything else?” Fiddleford asked.  Angie shook her head.

               “No.”

               “Not right now, at least,” Stan said.  

               “Glad we got some things settled,” Fiddleford said.  He smiled weakly at Angie.  She smiled hesitantly back.  Emboldened, Fiddleford took another step towards Angie.  Stan let out an audible hiss and grabbed Fiddleford’s wrist.

               “Fidds,” Stan growled.  “Just ‘cause we look calmed down doesn’t mean we are.  Do you remember what happened when you guys got close to the nest right after Molly was laid?”  Fiddleford nodded.  Stan’s eyes narrowed.  “Well, now I’m bigger than you.  Wanna roll those dice?”  Fiddleford paled.

               “Fidds, please,” Angie whispered.  “I know ya just want to comfort us.  But we can’t handle that right now.”

               “Okay, okay,” Fiddleford said, stepping back.  Stan and Angie visibly relaxed.  “Are ya up fer callin’ Ma ‘n Pa?”

               “No,” Angie said softly.  “But I don’t think I’ll ever be.”  She stood up. “At least they’ll be excited they’ve got such a cute lil granddaughter.”

               “The cutest granddaughter they’re ever gonna have,” Stan said proudly.

               “Cuter than any future daughters of yours?” Ford asked.  He shrugged.  “Well, we can always find out after next mating season.”

               “Don’t remind me,” Stan muttered.  “You’d think I’d like knockin’ boots 24/7.  But it’s not as fun as a bird.”

               “Why?” Ford asked, curious despite himself.

               “First off, it’s-” Stan started.  Fiddleford cleared his throat.  Stan and Ford looked at the McGuckets, who were wearing identical discomforted expressions.  “…I’ll tell you some other time.”