Work Text:
lamentation
/ˌlæm.enˈteɪ.ʃən/
noun⠀ the passionate expression of grief or sorrow; weeping.
stewie fell down to his knees as he looked up to the ceiling. he'd collapsed like an ancient statue in these passing months, both physically and mentally, unable to ignore the grief welling up in his stomach as often as the tears in his eyes. 152 days. 3,650 hours he'd spent dwelling in his cave that he called a room. and on the 219,001st minute he finally left. just for some air.
shaking with the weight of his misery, stewie stepped out his house in the desolate town of quahog, rhode island, ignoring the greetings of his oh-so-concerned family. they'd never cared for him really, just a patronizing bunch of liars, he thought. mentally sinking, stewie looked up to the soft clouds in the shallow hope the lost light of his life would greet him there. was what he saw between them a figure of his imagination? or was the empryean figure in the evening sky real? stewie wasn't sure, but the thought eased his tired eyes and warmed up the empty hole in his chest where his heart used to lie.
"rip pac..." the american football-headed baby uttered softly as he pulled a tissue from hammerspace, unable to control the alacrity of his flowing tears that slipped down the cheeks of his cherubic face like melting glass—slow and scalding.
and, through his haze of emptiness, stewie thought he heard a gentle chuckle from the seraphic tupac above. his longing eyes dilated, the clouded figure above staring back at him with jocund warmth, such that felt like a hug to the weeping stuart.
"thank you stewie."