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It was only when Gem opened the first door of her advent calendar, before the December sun had yet fully risen, that she thought of her brother.
Although this calendar, like many of its predecessors, was made by Doc out of sheer force of habit, she was sure it originated as an apology for not being able to spend the holiday time with her.
Still, every one of the 21 days to the Winter Solstice had a little hand-written note from Doc; Some wished her a good day, others reminded her how great she was, and yet others, like the one she was just reading, called forth memories she'd almost forgotten.
Remember Eric?
The May she turned 7, their world glitched. A blizzard ravaged their forest overnight and covered their little clearing in blankets of white snow that glistened with the intensity of a level III-enchantment.
She'd grabbed her coat and scarf, and immediately dragged him out to frolic in the layers of white glitter. She'd wanted to have a snowball fight or make snow angels, but creepers don't get along with the cold, so all that the two managed before the frost started biting at him was to build half a snowman. Saddened by Doc's departure, Gem had decided to finish the snowman all by herself, and surprise him.
He'd been horrendous and askew, of course, but Doc hadn't seemed to mind the stone that formed the nose, the shovel and the broom that were its arms, or the twigs that were makeshift antlers. And then, she'd put her scarf around him.
She'd been proud, and so had been Doc.
The next morning, the snow was gone. And along with it her scarf. Doc hadn't had the guts to tell her that Eric was gone, so he told her that he'd gone on an adventure and her scarf would keep him warm and remind him of home.
She put the little chocolate into hot milk, and decided she'd go and visit him today.
~~~
He'd be furious if anyone showed up at his doorstep during 'Creeper Mating Season'. But that's never stopped her. She knocked nonetheless.
"I don't care if Scar waxed Octagon's Nether portal or if Grian started another war. Go away!"
And so, Gem took out her pickaxe, and broke down the iron door, "Good morning, Doc!"
With the door placed back in place, she could focus on the crumpled mess that was her brother, face in his hands and sighing in exasperation et all.
"Of course it'd be you"
Just at the tip of his fingers, the hairline on the unmarred side of his face had bell-shaped flowers weaved between the first strands of hair; Glowing fuschia crowned his head in a breath-taking display of nature.
"I made you soup", she said, and watched him slowly look up at her. The clear reflection of his natural, all-black eye was dulled down, and she decided right then and there that she wouldn't leave before he'd been put to bed.
But first, she wanted him to eat. And as he did, she couldn't help but stare at the way that nature had adorned Doc's collarbones with even more of these mesmerizing flowers and formed a necklace around the shapes of his neck, almost reaching to his shoulders.
And then, there were his hands. Or rather, their back that displayed every single inch of skin filled with a myriad more of these flowers. There were little droplets of nectar at the tips of some, ready for pollination.
They seemed to reflect, maybe even amplify, the little rays of light to which Doc had granted access.
In a few weeks, nature's jewelry will be gone, and there will be naught but green, as far as one can see.
And she'll be sad, because there's little that brings her as much joy as seeing her loved ones covered in floral magic.
Maybe, if she's persistent enough, Doc will wear whatever flower-filled scarf she chooses to knit him for Christmas?