Bona Lisa is returned, whole and hale, in a bed of pink roses as she deserves. Ydalir is admittedly a little confused about that, she- she didn't do that on purpose? But it's still deserved. She's happy to reunite another person with their pet, though, and Bona Lisa has to pay the hug tax before she can return to Stan.
Heimr is happy to pack up the fishing gear, tells him that Elsword likes to hang by the river a lot too- but, the rainbow-lookin' turtles? Yeah, don't eat those. They're automatons. Or something like that, he doesn't know-
He also will place the Blackout Candle in a protective box, as it wouldn't do to have it snapped before use!
His rock is three (3) pieces of epidote. Shiny!
And as he makes his way back home, something seems to fade into view-
cw: illness
A couple he recognizes as his niece and nephew in law- the kids' parents- are both in bed, pale and splotches of red and black on their skin. The kids are too young, sequestered in their room and crying because something is wrong, but somehow the storm outside drowns them out. The doctor seems in over his head.
It's a terrible thing, yes, b-but we should at least be thankful that their children managed to avoid infection...
Look, Doc, don't get me wrong- I'm thrilled the kids are okay. But their parents... We both know it's too late, isn't it?
The doctor falters before nodding.
I'm sorry.
...
Well.
That's all there is to it.
Stan can't get any closer than he is, or he'll catch sick too- not what he wants or needs. He looks down to Shermie's like they're both his own, and sighs. The doctor moves like he has questions, or more to say, but Stan's only got one thing on his mind right now- so he trails out the bedroom, down the hall to the nursery.
Dipper and Mabel are crying loudly, li'l tots who should be being read bedtime stories right now. He- he isn't sure he's the one who should be here. Ford's gonna be a day or two late, and can he do this on his own? But the rest of the Pines family are gone- it's just the four of them.
He comes in, sits on the floor, and holds them close, despite that awkward feeling in his heart. Because the doubt is so, so very small when you compare it to the size of the love he has...
As the kids bawl, he lets them. They need this, even if he hates it (the sound of a sorrow he can't soothe, pain he can't truly fathom, and it's the biggest hurt they've ever felt in their young lives, but it hurts so much to hear) and as the wails become tired sniffles, he hoists each one up to sitting on one of his crossed legs.
There y'go... I got you. Grunkle Stan's got you. We're gonna have some floor time, and then- then... shi-oot, did either of you eat yet? Well, I think we can skip dinner and go straight for dessert tonight, whaddya say?
...Things start to blur, but he knows this- they had a meal of chocolate cake and Mabel had tried to bring slices to her mom and dad and the doctor (who looked like he was going to cry on the spot), and Dipper tried to make hot chocolate but was way too little, but Stan thought he had the right idea, so it was chocolate cake and hot chocolate for dinner, and he swore they wouldn't do this again but they will in the future, won't they?
The last thing he remembers of this night is sitting in a giant chair that isn't his, a twin under each arm, as he tries to read a storybook without falling asleep himself.
APPROVED
Heimr is happy to pack up the fishing gear, tells him that Elsword likes to hang by the river a lot too- but, the rainbow-lookin' turtles? Yeah, don't eat those. They're automatons. Or something like that, he doesn't know-
He also will place the Blackout Candle in a protective box, as it wouldn't do to have it snapped before use!
His rock is three (3) pieces of epidote. Shiny!
And as he makes his way back home, something seems to fade into view-
cw: illness
A couple he recognizes as his niece and nephew in law- the kids' parents- are both in bed, pale and splotches of red and black on their skin. The kids are too young, sequestered in their room and crying because something is wrong, but somehow the storm outside drowns them out. The doctor seems in over his head.
It's a terrible thing, yes, b-but we should at least be thankful that their children managed to avoid infection...
Look, Doc, don't get me wrong- I'm thrilled the kids are okay. But their parents... We both know it's too late, isn't it?
The doctor falters before nodding.
I'm sorry.
...
Well.
That's all there is to it.
Stan can't get any closer than he is, or he'll catch sick too- not what he wants or needs. He looks down to Shermie's like they're both his own, and sighs. The doctor moves like he has questions, or more to say, but Stan's only got one thing on his mind right now- so he trails out the bedroom, down the hall to the nursery.
Dipper and Mabel are crying loudly, li'l tots who should be being read bedtime stories right now. He- he isn't sure he's the one who should be here. Ford's gonna be a day or two late, and can he do this on his own? But the rest of the Pines family are gone- it's just the four of them.
He comes in, sits on the floor, and holds them close, despite that awkward feeling in his heart. Because the doubt is so, so very small when you compare it to the size of the love he has...
As the kids bawl, he lets them. They need this, even if he hates it (the sound of a sorrow he can't soothe, pain he can't truly fathom, and it's the biggest hurt they've ever felt in their young lives, but it hurts so much to hear) and as the wails become tired sniffles, he hoists each one up to sitting on one of his crossed legs.
There y'go... I got you. Grunkle Stan's got you. We're gonna have some floor time, and then- then... shi-oot, did either of you eat yet? Well, I think we can skip dinner and go straight for dessert tonight, whaddya say?
...Things start to blur, but he knows this- they had a meal of chocolate cake and Mabel had tried to bring slices to her mom and dad and the doctor (who looked like he was going to cry on the spot), and Dipper tried to make hot chocolate but was way too little, but Stan thought he had the right idea, so it was chocolate cake and hot chocolate for dinner, and he swore they wouldn't do this again but they will in the future, won't they?
The last thing he remembers of this night is sitting in a giant chair that isn't his, a twin under each arm, as he tries to read a storybook without falling asleep himself.
...
And then he's in the Grove again.