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Oliver was lonely, most of the time. He had his friends, sure, and they were more akin to family, sure, but they weren't his mom. They hadn't tucked him into bed every day for a decade. They hadn't woken him up on his birthday and let him have ice cream for breakfast. He didn't have the woman who had shaped him. She was gone. And he wanted her back.
But she was dead. Gone. Vileheart confirmed his greatest fear. That he had no mom. Not anymore.
He passed out.
(He didn't know. Swaine carried him back. Oliver was holding tight. Muttering for his mom. Swaine did all he could to take care of him. He needed to leave, sometimes, to take a breather so he didn't break down in front of Esther. He'd rather her think that he doesn't care for Oliver with every ounce of his being than have her see him sad. He doesn't want to risk Oliver waking up to that.)
He was in Motorville. Where she lived and died for him. He didn't have a dad to turn to. He didn't have a sister to hold. He didn't have an uncle to cheer him up.
And then he realized he did.
Swaine… Esther… Drippy… Alicia. Family. He had them. Pea had to show him that but he had them. He wouldn't lose them. Not again.
They fought Shadar. They won. Oliver hoped with as much of him as he couldn't stop, that Shadar had lied. But as he collapsed he knew it was true. He was the soulmate of the Dark Djinn. And he was dying.
Swaine ran to him. Oliver could barely tell who it was. He gripped Oliver's limp form in his arms. He was crying. Oliver held him back, trying to hold back as tightly as Swaine was holding him, but he was already far too weak for that.
He could only do one last thing. One final word to send them off with.
"Dad…. I love you all. I love you. I love you.. I love you… I love you….."