Chapter Text
The Fount was worried about Pure Vanilla…
Mainly because Pure Vanilla was still in his Nilla Waffle Cone body and had refused him every time he offered to change her back.
Ever since she’d given birth a few weeks ago, she’d refused to even humor The Fount on returning to her original body. He didn’t fully blame her. Starlight Vanilla was just a few weeks old, he still needed Nilla Waffle…
But Pure Vanilla had been Nilla Waffle for too long, and The Fount knew it was starting to affect him mentally.
There were several days where he would come home and Nilla Waffle would just be cradling their son, staring into the distance with silent tears streaming down her face.
Much like today.
“Nilla?” He tried to get her attention.
Nilla Waffle just stared ahead, unblinking.
“Nilly?” The Fount looked down at her lap.
Starlight Vanilla was asleep on her lap, half swaddled in a waffle cone blanket. One arm was free, and he was frighteningly close to one wrong wriggle from falling off her lap.
The Fount looked back up at Nilla Waffle. She still had not reacted to his presence. Slowly, carefully, he reached forward for their son.
“I’m going to put Starlight in his bed, okay?” As soon as The Fount picked him up, Nilla Waffle gasped for air (almost like she hadn’t been breathing).
“No…please don’t take him…” Nilla Waffle struggled to focus on him, tears began to exponentially flow down her stained face.
“Nilly, he needs to lie down.” The Fount tried to gently reason with her.
“No, please…” Nilla Waffle began to sob, “Please, let me hold him a little longer.”
The Fount just turned and gently laid Starlight Vanilla down in his side-sleeper crib. He stroked the little babe’s blonde and blue hair back from his face, then stood up, and turned to face Nilla Waffle who had curled up and buried her face in her knees.
“I’m sorry,” She cried weakly, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“A number of things,” The Fount said, trying to be as delicate as possible both with his words and with Nilla Waffle as he scooped her up in his arms.
“For starters, your mind was not meant to be in this body for as long as it has been. And second,” He carried her to their bed and sat her down on the edge, “We lost a child, Nilla.” He cupped her face in his hands and tilted her head back so she would look at him.
She sobbed pitifully in his hands and The Fount stroked her tears away.
“It is going to hurt. For a while.” He frowned, “Maybe forever.”
“I don’t want to be hurt forever.” Nilla Waffle’s lower lip trembled.
“It will dull with time, love. Trust me.” The Fount kissed her forehead.
“It’s not fair.” She whimpered.
The Fount didn't know what to say to that. She was right, it wasn't fair. Why should the cookies who give up their dough and souls to nurturing and protecting Earthbread be punished?
He just kissed her forehead again.
If he had it his way, The Witches would have been the ones dead, not their son…
The one who was currently decaying under a weeping vanilla orchid.
Finally he sighed and sat beside her, “I know, but Starlight Vanilla is here.” Nilla Waffle rested her head on his shoulder, “And we have to take care of him, too. He needs you.”
“It's not fair.” She mumbled again.
The Fount frowned and laid her down, “Try to get some rest, little one.”
Nilla Waffle didn't fight him or resist, and she closed her eyes as soon as her head hit the pillow.
The Fount couldn't sleep. He had to be sure Nilla Waffle didn't do anything irrational to herself or their son.
Three times Starlight Vanilla woke up. He didn't cry loudly, just whimpered and wriggled and reached for Nilla Waffle. The Fount picked him up each time, fed him, and soothed him until he'd fall back asleep.
The next morning, as the clock chimed six, The Fount leaned down and kissed Nilla Waffle’s forehead to rouse her gently. “I have to be off.”
“Please, don't.” She immediately teared up.
“Oh, my little cookie.” The Fount frowned.
“I’m scared…” Nilla Waffle began to cry in earnest, “Y-you were right. I - I can't do this.” She buried her head and her hands and sobbed.
The Fount did not go to work that day.
Or the next.
The Fount hoped that, with time, and being back in his body, Pure Vanilla would get better.
He did not.
If anything, his fears for himself were transferred to their son, and The Fount repeatedly had to step in before Pure Vanilla smothered the poor boy to death.
“Nilla, he can hold his own cup.”
“Nills, Starlight is perfectly capable of brushing his own teeth.”
“He does not need you to turn the pages for him, love.”
“I just worry about him.” Pure Vanilla said, lingering in the doorway as Starlight Vanilla slept in his own room for the very first time.
“I know, love, but he’ll be fine.” The Fount had to wrap his arm around Pure Vanilla’s waist to physically pull his other half back to their room. “And we are right down the hall if he needs us.”
“But the Spire…” Pure Vanilla began to turn back, but The Fount tightened his grip on his waist.
“Pure Vanilla, Starlight will be fine.” The Fount reassured him.
Pure Vanilla didn't look convinced. “What if something happens? What if someone tries to take him away?”
“Who would do that?” The Fount asked, “Be reasonable, love, who even knows about Starlight?”
“No one!” Pure Vanilla relented, “But…but what if someone did know? What if someone like The Saint tried to come —,”
“I would fight him off until one of us crumbled.” The Fount said. It was meant to be reassuring, but Pure Vanilla just fell against him in tears.
“I’m just so scared!” He cried, “And I - I can't keep living like this!”
The Fount clung to his little cookie, desperate to shield him from his fears and his pains. “It's okay, we’re safe. We’re all safe.”
The soft turning of pages was the only sound that filled the library. The little boy knew he wasn't supposed to be up, but he couldn't sleep, so he was tucked in a little corner of the library where he could read in peace.
One hand held the book on his lap open, while the other held a small glowing star.
He was so caught up in what he was reading, he didn't even hear the soft footsteps heading towards him until a pair of feet entered his peripheral vision.
The boy froze and slowly looked up.
“Starlight Vanilla Cookie,” Pure Vanilla immediately bent down to pick him up, “What on Earthbread are you doing up?”
Starlight Vanilla clung to his shoulder. What answer wouldn't get him a lecture, or worse, tears? He stayed quiet.
Pure Vanilla frowned, “It’s too late to read, love, and it’s far too cold for you to be out wandering about.”
Starlight Vanilla knew better than to argue with his mama, so he just rested his head on his shoulder and allowed him to carry him back to his room. The door to the library waved goodbye sadly .
Pure Vanilla tucked Starlight Vanilla into his bed and smoothed out the deep blue blankets, “There,” he smiled, “isn't this better than being curled up in that stuffy old library?”
No.
Not to Starlight Vanilla, at least.
But again, he knew better than to argue.
Pure Vanilla smiled and tucked his hair back behind his ear, “Try to get some sleep now, okay?”
Starlight Vanilla didn't want to sleep. He wanted to read. But he stayed snuggled in bed and said nothing.
Pure Vanilla kissed his forehead and stood up, “I’ll just be in my room if you need me.” He walked to the door and looked back one last time to make sure Starlight Vanilla was still there and still in bed. When he was, he smiled and turned to leave.
The Fount was waiting for him in the hallway.
Pure Vanilla frowned and walked by him without saying a word.
“What was that?” The Fount asked, following him.
“He was out of bed.” Pure Vanilla answered stiffly.
“So?” The Fount asked.
“So?!” Pure Vanilla whirled around on him, “He could get a cold! He could get sick! What was I supposed to do when I woke up and couldn’t find him —!?”
“Nilly,” The Fount grabbed his wrists as he began to pound his fists on the sides of his head. “Calm down, it’s okay. He’s fine.”
Pure Vanilla was sick and tired of being told to calm down. He’d been told to calm down for nearly six years and he was sick and tired of it!
He’d been right when Starlight Vanilla’s sniffle had turned into pneumonia.
He’d been right when letting Starlight Vanilla practice magic would hurt him (The image of his baby’s dough being burned by a small magic flame gave him nightmares to this day).
He’d been right about Black Sapphire being a bad influence (his precious baby would’ve never put a chocolate frog in his tea if he hadn’t been told to do so).
And he was right about this!
Starlight Vanilla was too delicate, too fragile. He turned, needing to go check on him again.
“You,” The Fount grabbed his chin and made him look up at him. Pure Vanilla grimaced. “Need to relax. You have your trip coming up —,”
“I’m not going.” Pure Vanilla cut him off.
“What?” The Fount blinked in shock, “Nilla, you’ve put it off for five years, you have to go.”
“No, I don’t.” Pure Vanilla shook his head, “I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to. But what I want to do is check on our son.” He tried to push past The Fount.
“Our son,” The Fount grabbed his arms, “Is fine. He’ll be fine.”
“I’m not going, so of course he will be.” Pure Vanilla reasoned.
“No,” The Fount shook his head, “You will be going, and Starlight Vanilla will be fine.”