#they've learned from experience what happens when their birdly siblings are pissed

[thelastspeecher]

I could’ve sworn I posted the first part of this whole ficlet, but I went through my Phoenix Enchantment AU tag and couldn’t find it, so I added some more to it and decided to finally post it.  What is it?  It’s the fallout of this ficlet, in which Stan and Angie get stuck at a zoo for months on end, including mating season.  I couldn’t come up with a title for this, but a decent one would be “Angie’s Pissed”, because damn, Angie is pissed.  Anyways, enjoy.

              “Have fun with yer friends,” Fiddleford called after Tate.  Tate nodded.  “Call when ya want to get picked up.”

              “Pa, chill, I know!” Tate groaned.  He got into his friend’s car.  Fiddleford sighed and closed the front door.  After a moment, he raised his voice again.

              “Okay, he’s gone!”  There was immediately a series of loud thuds from the attic, along with muffled voices. Fiddleford looked at Ford.  “Are ya ready fer a scoldin’?”  Ford rubbed the top of his right ear, which was heavily bandaged.

              “I’ve already gotten one.”

              “No, ya haven’t,” Fiddleford said firmly.  Footsteps thundered down the stairs.  Stan stormed over to Ford.

              “What the fuck was that about, huh?” Stan rumbled.  “You left us in that zoo for months, and it wasn’t a life-or-death situation?”

              “It was-” Ford started.  Stan grabbed Ford’s shoulders.

              “Stanford, do you have any clue how terrifying it was to see Emmett’s egg? Small and gray and- and obviously not right!  And then he hatched, and got goddamn pneumonia before he was a week old!”

              “Stanley-”

              “We were on display during mating season, Poindexter.  We got poked and prodded by people who thought we were dumb birds, and Emmett- Emmett didn’t grow right.”  Stan’s voice lowered.  “Angie was so fuckin’ stressed, I was so fuckin’ stressed, it’s a miracle we’re not completely bald.  Hell, it’s a miracle our son is even alive.” Angie, who had arrived at some point during Stan’s rant and was holding their infant son, walked over to Stan.

              “Stanley,” she said softly, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. Stan sighed and let go of Ford. Angie handed Emmett to Stan.  Stan smiled weakly at his son.  Abruptly, Angie slapped Ford across the face as hard as she could.  “You fuckin’ bastard,” Angie snarled.  Stan’s jaw dropped.  “I can handle embarrassment, bein’ examined by my former coworkers, all that nonsense. But ya put my child’s life in danger. I’ve been blamin’ myself ever since Emmett’s egg got laid, since it was my stress what made him so weak and small. But yer the one what didn’t let the stress end.  Yer the one what left us in that zoo.”

              “Angie-” Ford started.

              “You didn’t call anyone!  You called the zoo, asked fer us to stay longer, that was it!  Ya didn’t even know we had a new chick until ya came to pick us up! It’s shameful.  Yer a father.  Show some fuckin’ responsibility,” Angie spat.  Ford stared at her.  “I know you blame yourself fer us bein’ phoenixes.  I ain’t blind; I can see it in how ya try yer hardest to keep us happy. Here’s the thing.  Ya have no blame in that.  Stop feelin’ guilty over it.  Instead, show some remorse and forethought into things ya do have control over!”  Angie grabbed Ford’s shirt and stood on her tiptoes to peer into his face.  “The zoo was one of those things.  We agreed to bein’ on display fer a few weeks.  We explicitly told ya that we didn’t want to be there durin’ matin’ season.  You ignored that,” she growled.  “Now you get to live with the fact that yer nephew is stunted and weak. Because of yer actions.”  She let go of Ford’s shirt.  Ford took a step back.  Angie spun around.  “Fiddleford, yer not blameless, neither.  How Stanford convinced ya, I don’t know.  But you didn’t do anything to mitigate his actions.  Ya may not have as much blame, but a good chunk of it is yours.”

              “That’s- Angie, don’t go overboard,” Stan said weakly.

              “Ever since I laid Emmett’s egg, I’ve been blamin’ myself,” Angie snapped. “It’s high time the folks at fault got blamed fer it.”  She stormed away.  The front door opened and slammed shut.  Stan looked at Fiddleford and Ford, who were visibly shaken.  He held up his son.

              “So, uh, yeah, this is Emmett,” Stan said.  “He, uh, it turns out he’s a polydactyl like Molly and Daisy.”

              “That’s nice,” Ford mumbled.  He grabbed blindly for a chair and collapsed into it.  “Was it actually that bad?”

              “Yeah, it was,” Stan said in a low voice.  “Angie worked herself up so much the zoo had to close the exhibit for a while.  If she didn’t have a supportive person around, she fell to pieces.  And at the zoo, I was the only supportive person she had.” Stan swallowed.  “It was rough on me, but way worse on her.  Even worse than when we had Molly.”

              “Did she really blame herself?” Fiddleford asked quietly.  Stan sighed.

              “What do you think, Fidds?  You know how your fam’ly gets.  Of course she blamed herself.  It didn’t help that the zookeepers kept sayin’ things like ‘gestational stress’ and ‘result of mother’s ill health’ when they talked about Emmett.”  Emmett squirmed in Stan’s arms.  “She’ll start calming down once the girls get here. She’s excited for them to meet Emmett.”

              “He is a cutie,” Fiddleford said with a shaky smile.

              “Yeah.  Like his sisters and mom,” Stan agreed.  “But you guys should, y’know, be careful for a little while.  The only reason I’m not angry right now is ‘cause Angie sorta ruined it.  She sucked all the angry outta the room when she started swearing.  I’m gonna get angry again, though.  Ford, don’t go upstairs for a couple weeks.”  Ford nodded silently.  “Fidds, stay away from the nest for a while.  Neither of you are allowed to hold Emmett until after the girls get here.”

              “Understandable,” Fiddleford mumbled.

----- 

              Tate waved goodbye to his friends as they drove away after dropping him off at home.  He put his hands in his pockets and strode up to the house, whistling.  His ears picked up on faint sobbing coming from the side of the house.  He changed direction, following the sound.  As he walked into view, he frowned at the source of the crying.

              “…Auntie Angie?” he asked.  Angie looked up.  She had been sitting on the ground, leaning against the side of the house while she cried. She hurriedly wiped her cheeks.

              “Tater Tot, good to see ya,” she croaked.  Her voice creaked, like it had been a while since she’d used it.  Tate joined her on the ground.  She smiled fondly at him.  “Ya get bigger each ‘n ev’ry day.”

              “I’m a teenager,” Tate said with a shrug.  He cocked his head.  “Why were you cryin’ just now?”

              “Oh, nothin’ fer you to be worried ‘bout.”

              “Auntie, please,” Tate said.  Angie shook her head.  “Come on, please talk to me.  I don’t get to see ya much.”

              “If ya must know…” Angie sighed.  She looked away.  “You ‘member why yer uncle and I couldn’t watch ya while yer fathers were occupied with their research, right?”

              “Yeah.  You and Uncle Stan were expecting your next kid, and didn’t need to watch me on top of it.”

              “Exactly.”

              “Speakin’ of, where’s my new cousin?”

              “Emmett’s inside, bein’ showed off to yer fathers.”  Angie rubbed her eyes.  “He was…difficult.”  Tate’s heart plummeted.  He’d heard that rough pregnancies seemed to run in the family; Angie was herself an emergency C-section.

              “Is- is he all right?”

              “The doctors say he got through the worst of it, so it should be smooth sailin’.” Angie took a breath.  “But he was rough on me, and my mental state was rough on him, and he’s- he’s smaller than yer other cousins, and weaker.”  She shook her head.  “It’s just been a stressful time.  I could’ve used some support from yer pa, but yer dad convinced him to do that Manotaur thing, so Stan was the only one there fer me-”

              “What about Grannie and Grampie Gucket?”

              “They were busy, too.”

              “Too busy fer you when you were struggling?”

              “Tate, sweetie,” Angie choked out.  She pressed the palms of her hands to her forehead.  “I shouldn’t have told ya what I did.  I sure ain’t goin’ to tell ya more.  Yer pa wouldn’t be happy.”

              “But-”

              “Just go inside, say hi to yer new cousin.  I get the feeling you two ‘ll get along like a house on fire.”

              “But-”

              “I’m not jokin’,” Angie said in a warning tone.  Tate swallowed.  Most of his McGucket relatives didn’t seem completely serious when their tones became threatening.  But Angie had always seemed like there was real bite behind her words.  She didn’t posture.  She followed through on warnings.

              “Okay,” he said quietly.  He got up. “Once yer done cryin’ outside, though, I think Pa would like to talk with ya.  I’m sure he feels bad he couldn’t be there fer you.”

              “Just go inside, Tate,” Angie said.  Her voice was hollow.

              It’s like she used up all her emotions and can’t feel anymore.  Tate nodded silently.  He walked away and entered through the front door.  Faint crying emanated from the living room.

              “C’mon, Emmett,” Stan’s voice said tiredly.  “Stop cryin’.  When your mom gets back, we can give you some food and put you down fer a nap, but until then-”  Tate walked into the living room.  Stan looked up.  “Hey, kiddo.”

              “Hi, Uncle Stan.”  Tate joined Stan on the couch.  He peered at his new cousin, nestled in Stan’s arms.  “This is Emmett?”

              “Yep,” Stan said.  Emmett continued to wail.  “He’s a looker when he’s not screamin’.”

              “Yeah, he seems a bit fussy.”

              “I think he misses his mom,” Stan said.  He looked down at Emmett.  “But she stormed outta here a coupla hours ago after slapping Ford, and I don’t know where she went.”

              “She’s outside.”

              “What?”  Stan looked at Tate.  “She’s outside?”

              “Yeah.  I talked to her a bit when I got back.”  Tate rubbed the back of his neck.  “She was cryin’, so…”

              “She’s crying?” Stan asked.  He swore under his breath.  “Okay, I’ve gotta go talk to her.”

              “Is- is Auntie Angie all right?” Tate asked timidly.  Stan let out a heavy sigh.

              “No, she isn’t.  But she’ll get there.  We both will.”

              “…You’re not all right, either?”

              “Tate…”  Stan shook his head.  “Look. Your pa would flip if I told you the real reason Angie and I are so pissed at your dads.”

              “Why?”

              “I can’t get into this,” Stan said abruptly.  He handed Emmett to Tate and stood.  “Your dads don’t want us to tell you, and my wife is crying outside. Just- hold onto Emmett for a bit, okay? Once Angie’s calmed down, we’ll head home.”

              “O-okay,” Tate stammered.  Stan strode out of the living room.  Tate heard the front door open and close.  He looked down at his infant cousin.  Emmett had stopped crying and was staring at him with wide, brown eyes.

              Auntie Angie and Uncle Stan were always a bit weird, like most people in the family.  But I swear, each year, they get more and more eccentric.

              “You’re not gonna be as weird as ‘em, are ya?” Tate asked Emmett quietly. Emmett stared at him silently.  “Don’t worry, I’ll help ya stay relatively normal. Us boys gotta stick together.”

#I haven't written ANYTHING in this AU from Tate's perspective #so it's a bit overdue for me to actually do #esp since he's got a great perspective. what with not knowing the birds in the attic are his relatives #and where are Fidds and Ford in the second scene? uh...making themselves scarce mostly #they've learned from experience what happens when their birdly siblings are pissed #Phoenix Enchantment AU #Angie McGucket #Stanley Pines #Emmett McGucket #Fiddleford McGucket #Stanford Pines #Tate McGucket #Stangie Family #my writing #ficlet #speecher speaks