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Vex comes to him because she's the fastest, and it's her brother, and because she knows. She knows he would tear himself open again for Vax and she can't care right now. Right now she needs her brother back. The consequences of Scanlan's resurrection are still fresh but damn him, and damn anyone who stands in-between her and her twin. Gilmore knows this too, and just nods and follows.
He contributes to the ritual last because he's still gathering his thoughts, sluggish from the shock. What could he give that his family couldn't? What could he give that he already hasn't? He walks to the cold still body of his friend and leans down, fingers brushing the long strands of dark hair from the tapered ears. He whispers low and pleads to Vax to come back, pleads to his Goddess to bring her champion back, that he would give anything to see him smile again.The room is cold and oppressive, nearly silent save for Keyleth's small sobs and Vex' occasional sniffles. Minutes seem like hours before the diamond shatters, dust sparkling in the beams of sunlight that poke through the temple windows, then settle down onto the body. Vax is slowly moving with broken breath, coughing and soaked with seawater. Gilmore's hands clench and unclench, unsure of what to do with them, as the women in Vax's life rush up to hold him, weeping and exclaiming. But Gilmore stands there, towards the back of the temple, watches Vax's family cry their tears of joy, watches Keyleth press kisses onto Vax's lips, sees the smile he's been waiting for. Vax's eyes meet his and the smile falters before he turns back to his family. Not for him, never for him.
Stumbling backwards, unnoticed, Shaun nearly breaks into a run for the house he's been staying at. Slamming the door closed behind him and leaning back against it he only notices then that tears are streaming down his face. His chest heaves with panic and his body buzzes with fight or flight. He's confused, and he's relieved, and he's terrified. Because Vax will come to him to talk. Because Vax always fucking comes to him, his prized confidant, his dear dear friend and Gilmore can't. Just can't again, not again, can't sit there calmly and be the ear that listens, the arm around the shoulder, and the understanding eyes. Not when the blood pounds in his ears and his eyes burn and his arms shake and clutch around himself. Can't stand to see the sad looks from the rest of Vox Machina, glorious no longer. Gilmore hasn't felt glorious for months.
Scrubbing furiously at his face he paces deeper into the house, leaves a note for Sherri to erase the circle, if anyone asks a family situation came up, and to burn the note. His poor friend and employee, she will undoubtedly be furious again, having to clean up the emotional mess that happens whenever VM stops by. She too deserves better than this,but the flight is winning and makes his hand writing shake and slant.
Chalk in hand, he walks to the basement, travel bag slung over his shoulder. He finds enough space on the ground and takes a deep breath, attempting to still his tremors. This circle he could draw in his sleep but it would do no good to mess it up now, takes another deep breath in through the nose, out the mouth, and begins.
The time change is disorienting as he emerges into his childhood room. The heat is ever present and soaks into his bones. He almost sways into it, having been so cold for so long. This trip had been overdue, and maybe he could scout out a new store location in Marquette. Maybe seek an audience with J'mon sa Ord, a reward for service in helping to slay Thordak, a land grant, a new project. Something just for him.
Grabbing the small chest from under his old bed Shaun Gedemore dimension doors out into the warm sands behind the house, unwilling to bother his beloved parents. He walks slowly, mindlessly, into the horizon. There are ways to forget and be forgotten.