Jeroen hadn't been hiding, precisely. He hadn't even been anti-social. He'd been having adventures, and helping (read: annoying) Eostre and the twins, and being entirely normal
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It's hard to sneak when you've got over twenty pounds of fluff barreling after you at all times. Still, I walk up behind Jeroen as silently as possible, raised up on the balls of my bare feet, and thankfully, I'm right up behind him when Walt starts wiggling to get at Max.
Close enough that I can reach down and ruffle Jeroen's hair obnoxiously before he has a chance to turn around.
Jeroen hadn't exactly been paying attention to his surroundings, and the hand in his hair made him jump, upsetting Walt from his lap, though he'd have been out of his lap in a moment, regardless.
He turned slightly, still seated, wrinkling his nose at Neil as Walt goes over to sniff happily at Max.
I copy that fucking sour look he just tossed at me, nose wrinkling and mouth scrunching up like a prune, and I flop over onto the sand next to him, shoulder bumping his lightly.
Jeroen managed to get the jist of that, just barely, and he nodded, not looking all that pleased about it. Once it'd been explained to him, he'd felt cheated out of something, a chance to go home when he wouldn't get another, maybe.
Hobbes was out in the surf with Dexter, throwing a piece of drift wood out into the waves and watching him tear off after it over and over again. Introspection was catching. It had been a long weekend.
"Hey, kid," he called, walking up out of the surf, whipping driftwood back into the waves. "How's it goin'?"
Jeroen looked over at Hobbes as he approached, resting his chin on his knees. "Okay," he said after a moment. It always took him a moment, with some of the alternate ways of asking him how he was; there was always that lapse of translation. "How are you?"
It was all gone again. He'd been home. Got fluttery Tinkerbell kisses and Eostre had been there too, and it had been perfect. For a couple days it had all been back, and he could fly.
Now he was just stuck on the ground again, growing up same as before. It hurt more than he'd expected it to. Being here.
He sat down next to Jeroen in the sand without saying anything. Didn't know what to say, about any of it.
Jeroen looked over at Peter as he sat beside him. Peter looked smaller than usual, silent, but that was okay. It was how Jeroen felt. He leaned into him, ever so slightly, though, and stayed quiet as Walt jumped out of his lap to greet Peter.
Jeroen frowned slightly at that, trying to think of where he would have been. Probably at the beach, again. The waves were a good thing, something he'd grown used to. "Sorry," he murmured.
The day was rapidly approaching when Eostre wouldn't make it to the beach at all until after the twins were born, which made her sad. As it stood, it took her long enough to walk to the sand as it was.
"Hello, pet," she said, as Walt scrambled out of Jeroen's lap to yip and nip at Eostre's bare toes. "I missed you."
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Close enough that I can reach down and ruffle Jeroen's hair obnoxiously before he has a chance to turn around.
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He turned slightly, still seated, wrinkling his nose at Neil as Walt goes over to sniff happily at Max.
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"You stay here with the rest of us this weekend?"
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"Hey, kid," he called, walking up out of the surf, whipping driftwood back into the waves. "How's it goin'?"
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He glanced over at the kid, "How're you doing? Ever work it out with Peter?"
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Now he was just stuck on the ground again, growing up same as before. It hurt more than he'd expected it to. Being here.
He sat down next to Jeroen in the sand without saying anything. Didn't know what to say, about any of it.
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He felt a little bit better, now. Felt a little...well, not magic, of course. But a little bit more like a person.
Then he turned his head to murmur against Jeroen's hair. "I looked for you when I got home, but couldn't find you."
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"Hello, pet," she said, as Walt scrambled out of Jeroen's lap to yip and nip at Eostre's bare toes. "I missed you."
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"How're you?"
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