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Hunter reaches up to the bird on his shoulder and his hand passes through nothing. His breath stutters and jumps in his chest as the pain he had been feeling since he came back to the Isles suddenly seems to rise and pop like the world’s least fun bubble, right in the centre of his chest. Grief, in this moment, drops his heart like a two tonne brick.
Through his now blurring vision, he still watches Willow with her dads. Gus with his. Amity and Luz. Even with the tears swimming in the vision, it’s beautiful. His friends are happy. They get everything they want. They get everything back. He smiles. But his hand tightens on his shoulder.
He doesn’t.
He doesn’t.
There’s nothing he gets back. Everything… That he hasn’t already lost… He’s going to lose.
His breaths begin to punch into his chest. His hand begins to tremble where his fingers dig into the skin of his shoulder, his arm crossed tightly over his chest. No one sees the water break over the dam of his eyelids, pouring out over his cheeks. No one hears his footsteps as he stumbles backwards. No one speaks to him.
In one swift movement he’s gone. Teleporting away… Away away. The rhythmic light of the magic and the blurring of his surrounds soothe him in a way. They slow the panicked beat of his heart. Until they stop. He stops. And feels the grief crawl up his throat.
He’s gone back. …Home.
It’s the castle that looms above him. He shakes as he stands below it. And his legs give out underneath him. He sobs. Just one word.
“Uncle.”