Work Text:
Dear Everyone,
I’d list your names but there’s too many of you. I’ve tried listing them in the billion other drafts of this letter I’ve written, but I always cried too hard to finish. They were happy tears, don’t worry (you don’t have to call me Cry Baby Bunting anymore). You know who you are.
If you are the recipient of this letter, you’ll know who to read it out to. The people on the journey we shared all need to hear this.
I wish I could visit more frequently. You’ve given me so much joy and happiness and support over the years and I wish I could give back more. Between school and work I’m very preoccupied. Did I tell you I have a job now? I work for Miss Leila. Esther Myrtle’s still trying to teach me the ropes. I’ve also been working on more cars with Phil, so that’s been eating up my time as well.
I wonder how you’re doing. All of you. Do you keep in contact? How are the kingdoms? Sorry if I’m being vague. I’m trying not to bombard you, especially since this a letter.
Truthfully, I feel really bad about not being able to spend much time in your world. I don’t cry about it anymore, but it does make me feel kind of ill. I miss going on adventures with you, I’ll be honest. Maybe we could group together and do some errands for people, for old time’s sake. I just worry that it wouldn’t feel the same.
I went to my mum’s funeral the other day. It helped a lot. Nearly everyone in Motorville was there. I should have invited some people from your world. They wouldn’t be visible to anyone here so they could have watched her go. Maybe that’s just wishful thinking. It doesn’t matter, she’s down there now. There’s a beautiful tree growing at her grave.
I should be telling you this in person. I’m sorry, I should be. I don’t think it’s even the lack of time stopping me, it’s just that I feel scared to talk about these things. If I say it out loud, I’ll start crying.
I’ve attached some sweets from my world as a gift. That’s what’s in the package. I hope I packed enough for all of you. Phil helped me pick out the best flavours (which is why I didn’t pack any lime flavoured sweets, nobody likes the lime flavoured sweets).
Oliver was in tears at this point. It was the furthest he’d got writing his letter. He normally got stopped by his own emotions come the second paragraph. He hadn’t even melted the wax to seal the letter. He sat as his little wooden desk, where there was an empty spot where Drippy used to sit with his button eyes and bell nose. He sat hunched over his letter. He’d used a very fancy ink pen and made sure his handwriting was very neat. The brown paper bag of sweets sat where Drippy once was with scribbles of notes on the side. “4 milk choc, 4 white choc, 4 dark choc, 4 caramel” it read in scruffy writing. A pile of crumpled up paper, some tear-stained and others dry, lay discarded behind him.
He didn’t want to send this. It didn’t feel right to send it. Even if it made him sob his eyes out, he had to talk to his friends - he’d go as far as to say his family - in person about his feelings.
That was the good thing. They were his family. Esther was his older sister, Swaine was his much older brother, Drippy was his uncle, and Marcassin was like a cousin he hadn’t seen in a while. They had seen each other through the best and the worst. They had bandaged one another’s wounds, fought side by side, pooled together guilders to afford more provisions, laughed, lived, saved the world. It felt so fast when Oliver looked back on it, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.
They had forever to reunite, forever to meet again, forever to be a family. Forever didn’t always last - he’d learned that thanks to his mother - but it wouldn’t be over for ages.
He had his old wand in his pencil holder. He’d received many compliments about it being a unique looking pen. He took it and the sweets and decided to leave his room for the first time in a few hours. Timmy Toldrum purred in greeting as he walked down the stairs and Leila let him reminded him about his homework.
So much to do in this world, but he had other priorities.
He walked into the front garden and looked out into the world - his world - and saw normality, a wonderful familiarity. He moved his wand with practice, tracing out the rune for Gateway. He looked out into the world - the other world - and saw normality, a wonderful familiarity.
He smiled and immediately took off running through familiar fields to find everyone.
He didn’t need to hide behind letters to say it. “Thank you for everything.”