My Crazy Years

Celebrations

You were more than ready to get back to James' home, eager to show the bugs the surprise you prepared for them. The idea came to you while you and the children were visiting the fair at the edge of the village. It was a way of apologizing to the little ones for having them stuck in the house, while you were recovering from the cold that took over you. Thankfully, your mother was bringing you your meals to your bed, and there were always fruits on the menu that you gladly offered to the small bugs. May and Rea were giving you mean glares each time they saw you lying in bed, while they were stuck doing both their chores and yours. You smiled and waved at them smugly from the comfort of your pillows and blankets. You couldn't deny the guilty pleasure birthed from seeing them work while you were free to rest. Granted, you were feeling like a pile of goo, and you needed to sleep all the time, but Grandpa and Mom were there to welcome you with open arms whenever you were dreaming and that was one thing you couldn't complain about.

You looked through the window at the fast-moving scenery, the ride once more passing much quicker than before. Yet, there was something heavy hanging in the air, something that needed to be said, but there were no words to give it voice with. You looked at your father, his expression sour ever since you left home. It was obvious that something was on his mind, but as he was never one to talk about feelings and such, he didn't know how to bring it up. You didn't press the matter either, thinking it was for the best. You and him always had a rocky relationship, disagreeing with everything you talked about. You were a dreamer; he was a thinker. To let sleeping die seemed like the best option.

Beside, the little ones were with you, hiding in the backseat where they couldn't be seen by your father, near the backpack, the main zipper opened so that they could get in quickly if needed be. If something went down, then they were sure to hear it too. You didn't want to burden them with your problems. Hornet was already mad at you. You didn't want to add fuel to the fire. But it wasn't only her. Pure too. Ever since yesterday, they refused to talk to you at all. Honestly, you didn't believe that would affect them so much. It wasn't like you were hiding it, but you genuinely forgot about it yourself

When he pulled in the Victorian-styled house's driveway and the engine was silenced, you were ready to get off, but he stopped you.

"(Y/N)."

"What is it?" you asked looking at him.

"Is...you..." he struggled to find his words which was never a good sign. "Don't forget what we taught you. And think well about what you want to do with your life."

You nodded and got out of the car, not understanding very well what he meant.

Outside, the snow was huge, a path to the door having been shoveled not long ago in a very clumsy way. You took out your luggage, hoping that the trick would work. You waved your father bye as he drove away, and headed to the door where Hornet was already waiting, ready to get in.

"I'm home!" you announced as you stepped in the warm hallway, ready to see everyone.

Surprisingly, no one came to greet you, and you were sure the children were going to rush over like madmen the second you arrived. Pale King did say that they were mad at their siblings for not taking them along and were waiting to scold them, which made you more than anxious. You imagined Pure who was already a soft baby getting scolded by their siblings. Poor child.

Hornet and Pure climbed on your shoulder, together with Grimmchild and Ghost wondering how come no one was there. Broken and Flower went on ahead, eager to see their mother and father.

"Hello? Anyone home?" you asked, walking towards the salon, when a puff of red smoke appeared on your shoulder, and Grimm hugged his child, tears rolling down his cheeks.