Save Me a Seat
SETTING: Emerald Oasis
TIMING: Early March (Prior to Ch. 3)
PARTIES: @oliver–fox & @irlsunbeam
WARNINGS: Terminal Illness Tw
SUMMARY: Estella comes to see Oliver in the cave. An emotional conversation is had.
Oliver shifted his weight slightly, pulling another blanket on his lap. He knew, deep down, that he shouldn’t feel as cold as he did. The oasis was warmer than it was outside, but that knowledge didn’t do anything to abate the shivers that ran throughout his body. “Care to tell me about things happening above ground?” Oliver asked, a slightly forced smile finding its way to his lips. He hated it, being removed enough from the normal goings-on of the town that it made any normal conversation hard to navigate. Whenever he did go up, he tended to keep his head down, more focused on completing whatever task he needed to do before he started feeling any side effects. Even though there were others down in the oasis, Oliver had mostly been keeping to himself. Which meant that, other than when Izzy spent the night with him or friends visited, he was alone. He’d gotten very good at exploring the area.
Oliver ran a finger over the cave’s floor, brushing against random greenery that was sprouting up. “How have you been doing, you know, with everything going on?”
__
The Emerald Oasis should have been someplace exciting. It was, in theory. But in practice (well, in particular practice right now) it was somewhere that just reminded her of how much Oliver was suffering. How much he wasn’t the same Oliver that she knew. Which was unsettling, deeply so. She didn’t like it much at all (or just flat out at all), but he was letting her come and visit and that was all she could ask for, right now. “I can tell you anything you’d like. What do you want updates on? My animals? My brother? Me?” She fidgeted in her seat, loathing the fact that she couldn’t do a whole lot of anything. “I can also make you warmer, if you want.” She could see how cold he was and she could do something to help with that, maybe, and so she had to at least try. She had to. There wasn’t any world in which she couldn’t at least try.
Estella scrunched up her face. “I – well, I’ve – I’m fine.” She pressed her palm against her stomach, the pang of pain distracting her from her and Oliver’s conversation for a moment. “Mostly. I want to talk about you, though.”
—
Oliver grinned at the list of possibilities. “I’d love to hear about any of those things. Whatever’s the most exciting.” Distractions helped force his brain to think of something other than his situation. “I heard that your brother had a rather unexpected ending to a night out at a Karaoke bar; I don’t think I’ve ever heard him sing.” He laughed quietly. At her offer, he fidgeted with a string on one of the blankets. “Ah, I think I’m ok for now. I’ll let you know if I change my mind, though.” He trusted Estella, he did. However, the last thing he wanted was to accidentally end up with a burn from this encounter.
He tilted his head to the side at her movement. The longer you were around, the better you got at reading other fae’s tells of when they were lying. “There’s not much to talk about on my end.” Oliver said with a shrug. “I’m just mostly hanging out down here. I go out when I can, but just have to be careful of coming back before side effects start piling up.” Perhaps that was one of the things he missed the most. The ability to do what he wanted, for however long he wanted to. Now, there was always a timer going off in the back of his head when he stepped outside.
Oliver let silence fall between the two for a moment before he leaned back, his back hitting the wall behind him. “We don’t have to talk about whatever’s bothering you if you don’t want to, but let’s not lie, yeah?”
—
Whatever was most exciting. Hm. Estella had to think about it, because there was a lot of things in her life that were exciting (she liked to live an exciting life whenever and whenever possible, after all) but unfortunately some of the excitement was not good excitement and even though she knew she could tell Oliver anything, she didn’t want to add any more stress onto everything that was already going on. That would have been cruel of her. She pulled her knees against her chest and sighed. “Mickey’s a decent singer.” She grinned. “I mean, I think he’s brilliant, but I’ve been told more than once that I am heavily biased when it comes to thinking my brother is the best human ever to exist, so…” she trailed off, trying to make things seem lighter. “And yeah, no worries, just let me know if you need me to do anything.”
She didn’t know what was most exciting. “Uh.” She paused, trying to think. “I am planning on adopting more animals sometime soon. You’ll have to meet them.” He had to. He had to still be alive and meet them and know how loved he was by them, because he was also a part of nature, just like she was. Maybe better at being a part of nature than she was, which wasn’t an especially good feeling, but if anyone was allowed to be better at things than she was, it was Oliver. He was her family. Found, at least.
“I’ve also got a lot of translation work lined up. So, you know, keeping busy.” She scrunched up her face almost too tightly. Then she made herself relax. She had to. Both for Oliver’s sake and for her own – to prove to herself that she still had the capacity to relax. She was supposed to bring good and light and joy and love. Estella knew she at least owed Oliver that much.
“Sorry. I didn’t – I won’t lie anymore. I just don’t want to bother you or stress you out any more than you already are.” She sighed, sitting next to him, her back against the wall too. Reached out her hand, palm open, for Oliver to place his hand there if he wanted to. “I love you, Oliver.” She said, above a whisper. Clear.
—
Oliver smiled softly as Estella raved about her brother. “I believe it.” He said before he shook his head. “Eh, being family means you can be biased.” He had built himself collections of found-family relationships throughout his years, and even without blood, there was a certain amount of joy that came from gushing about them. “He’s also pretty brilliant, so half the time you aren’t even lying.”
He raised an eyebrow at her plan to get more animals. “Oh? What type are you thinking?” It reminded Oliver of the fact that he had planned to adopt a cat at some point. A half-baked plan that never came to fruition. At this point, he was glad it had never materialized. “I’d love to meet them.” Oliver added. It wasn’t a lie, but that didn’t take away the way his stomach clenched at the thought. Deep down, he was pretty sure he’d never meet them. Would this be the last time he saw Estella? If not, how many more times would he have? There was so much left to say that Oliver was practically paralyzed by the indecision of it all.
“That’s great, Stella,” Oliver exclaimed as he patted her knee. “I know you’ll kill it.” The offer to help with any translations she had trouble with died on his tongue before the words could even be formed. Instead, he swallowed them down, “Better to be kept busy than be bored.” His lips turned downward when she scrunched her face. He shook his head at her apologies. “No, it’s-it’s..” Oliver paused before he sighed. “I don’t want you to worry about me, I don’t want you to think you have to act differently around me.”
His hand shook, barely noticeable when he was just sitting there, his body still recharging from when he was out earlier today. Oliver knew she would feel it, and a part of him thought about keeping his hands in his own lap, not wanting to upset her further. However, he instead reached out, placing his hand over hers, and linked their fingers together. “I love you too Estella.” His voice trembled, barely above a whisper. “I’m…sorry.” It was almost ironic. A fae’s life was made up of watching humans die, and here Oliver was, forcing Estella to watch a fae die before she had even lost her first human.
—
“I suppose that’s true.” She offered a smile to Oliver, though it didn’t glow as brightly as she would have liked for it to. Things were bad, but she was supposed to be a source of good and she was supposed to make things better. Oliver had said that she did that. Not now, but before. Or maybe she was misremembering. Some sort of image concocted by anticipatory grief. Estella didn’t like any of that much at all. “That’s true, and if you say it, then it must really be true.” It was easier to feel joy over Mickey. Even though he was human and was very terrifyingly human, she could still feel joy over him and talking about him with Oliver.
She wondered if this was the last time she’d see Oliver. Of course it never would be, not really, because he’d be a part of her forever and he’d be a part of the universe forever, as all fae were. As all nymphs were, especially. Even if what he was connected to was dying, she wouldn’t let his memory die. She couldn’t.
“I want rabbits and chickens and I’ve heard of other supernatural sorts that sound endearing. Like baku. They’re supposed to eat bad dreams, and the idea of something eating bad energies and helping the world can only be good, right?” Making plans was good. Making plans meant there was hope and she needed hope almost more than she needed air. She very well thought she could survive if she had only hope and had no air. Hope was what made things thrive, and so it would make her thrive. Maybe it could make Oliver thrive. Bring life back into him. She’d always been in love with the impossible, after all.
“I can’t help but worry about you.” I think I’ll worry about you for the rest of my life. “But – don’t stress about that. I’m awful good at worrying and hoping in equal measure.” A stifled laugh, then a sigh.
She wrapped her hand around his larger one almost on reflex. Because they were family, and family you loved had a lot to do with reflexes. She didn’t want to let go. “I don’t want you to be sorry.” She sniffled again, tears started to spill over and onto her cheeks. “I love you. I’ll be able to love you forever.” Estella sighed, the air heavier than it had been before. She could feel him shaking and she scooted her body closer to his. “I will love you forever. You’re – you made me feel like I had family. With fae. You – you believed in me.”
—
Oliver huffed a breath when she mentioned the types of animals she wanted. “You know that’s certainly a pair to have together. Actually, my..friend, the one who's been staying with me here? He recently told me that he got a fae chicken of all things.” He shakes his head. “But both of those things would certainly be easier to obtain than a Baku.” Oliver added as he hummed quietly. “I’ve heard Baku’s are pretty easy pets, though, not the smartest, but they just like to relax, plus, you’re right, you wouldn’t have to deal with any bad dreams.” Which was good. Safer ever. Oliver had a feeling, hidden away deep in his chest, that he would be the source of bad dreams for many of his friends in the future. He hated it. Hated that he would continue to cause his friends pain even after he died.
His gaze moved upwards, eyes focused on the light in the cave to try and keep the tears that he could feel building back. “I know, but you shouldn’t have to.” They should be outside, and Oliver should be helping her train. The seasons were slowly changing, which meant that she would start having more time with the sun. Instead, they were stuck in a cave that only saw the sun from one angle.
Her tears gave his body the signal that it could start to shed its own, despite his valiant effort to keep them at bay. Oliver moved, pulling her close so that her head rested against his shoulder. “I’m going to be sorry, there’s no other option. This isn’t something that’s ok.” He whispered, eyes squeezed shut as she spoke. Delicately, he kissed her forehead. He hated the idea of causing scars on her heart. A crack that would never fully heal. “Of course I did, you are so, so talented, Stella. I should be thanking you for being such a good mentee. Ev-Even without me-” his voice cracked, and he cleared his throat, “You’ll go on to do great things. You are already on your way to becoming a powerful Nymph” Oliver squeezed her hand. “I’ll always be with you. Even death can’t break the bond of a nature and a sun nymph, ok?” He said, a weak and wobbly smile played on his lips.
—
“That sounds delightful. The fae chicken, I mean. I’ll have to meet your friend, sometime.” The idea of sometime felt plausible. Sometime meant that maybe Oliver would be able to be there and then things would be alright! Maybe this friend was someone who Oliver was in love with and that delighted Estella enough for a moment that for a moment, she forgot about what it meant that Oliver was down here. But only a moment, maybe even only half a moment. Love was something powerful and love could conquer all, but Oliver’s present distress was more pressing at the moment. Love could conquer all, but right now she needed to sit with Oliver. Love could conquer all, because it had to. It had to. Oliver was in love (or so she presumed) and that had to save him. Her familial love toward him should have been enough, but with romance (or what she had decided had to be romance) he’d have to survive. Or come back. Or something.
She liked to get what she wanted and she very much wanted Oliver not to die.
“I’ve done things I shouldn’t have to do for years. Nearly my whole life. You know this.” Her stomach twisted in pain. Not even from a lie. Just some terrible sort of human pain. She liked some human behaviors and feelings (sometimes much to her chagrin, if she thought too long about how it connected her to her human father. Estella thought of fae as superior to most humans, save for Mickey (and Henri when he wasn’t being ridiculous with a fae-killer), her father thought the opposite (but in a much crueler way), and she didn’t like to have anything to do with him. Even though she’d been told she had his eyes. She hoped that she showed the world a kinder view with them than he ever could.
He kissed her forehead and the tears only flowed faster. She sobbed, visibly and ugly now. She didn’t like how she sounded when she sobbed, how discordant it felt and how unnatural it felt. She was light and joy and life. She wasn’t supposed to be like this. They weren’t supposed to be like this.
“You’re easy to be good with.” She hiccuped, her tears catching in her throat now. She felt sick. “I’ll honor you.” Estella could feel her words shaking. If they were visible, she knew her words would have been vibrating by now. Falling over, even. “I’ll honor you,” another hiccup, “forever and then some.” She wondered if her tears would do more harm to him or if, perhaps, some sort of version of healing like Rapunzel’s did to the prince in the original story. If her tears possessed magic that could make Oliver okay again. Make it so that he didn’t die.
She buried herself in his chest, just in case. Just in case her sobs could fix him, and also because she needed to remember how he smelled and how his arms felt around her. “Okay. Can you promise that? Promise that you’ll be with me forever, even if…” she bit her lip. “Wait. No, no. Don’t promise. I don’t – just. I love you. I love you so much, more than should be possible, but exactly what is possible, because you’re you and I’m me.” She wiped some of her tears away with her sleeve. “I’m staying here for right now at least.” Just in case it’s the last time.
—-
Oliver let out a wet laugh at her statement. “I know, it’s just how you are.” He said quietly. As her sobs picked up speed, he simply held her close, his own tears continued to streak down his cheeks. There wasn’t anything he could say to help ease the pain. He ran a hand through her hair; a gentle, repeated movement to try and ground both of them. “It’s because I’m old.” Oliver joked weakly. Even now, he was desperate to try to make her smile. This amount of sadness didn’t look right on Estella, an unnatural sight from someone who was typically never without a smile. At her insistence that she would honor him, Oliver blinked before giving a small nod. “If you strive to do your best, then that’s all I can ever ask.”
His lips parted, ready to promise her the world if she asked for it. Oliver shut them just as quickly when she backtracked. Which was probably a good thing. Promises were binding in life, but if he explicitly promised to stay with someone forever, would the universe turn that into him becoming a ghost, forced to be with her always? Oliver wasn’t sure if that was something either of them wanted.
“I love you too,” Oliver repeated. The last thing he wanted was for this to become a situation where everyone moved in to keep an eye on him. It was already claustrophobic enough. “You can stay here tonight, if you want.” Oliver offered, making a mental note to send Izzy a text. “Though you should return home after that. Come back and visit as much as you want, but there’s no reason for both of us to be tied to being here.” Oliver explained, using his thumb to wipe away some of her tears. “You’ll get through this, ok?” Oliver murmured, giving her a gentle squeeze. “I promise.”
They sit there together in each other's embrace for a long time, neither wanting to be the first one to let go. Unfortunately, at some point, someone has to be the one to let go. Someone has to stay, and someone has to go.