They are squished. Squished very tight and close to their missing companion, relief surging between them. Even Gibs and Jumblie join in, and Esteban spares enough time to the little sunshine higgledy to thank her softly, voice low so that he won't disturb anyone. Both wings swoop around them all, and it takes a tiny bit of nudging and prodding, but he manages to surround their little cuddle pile, blanketing them in warmth that thrums with his heartbeat and the scent of a campfire.
Thank-- thank the Guardian he doesn't even have.
It's not until that point that Esteban allows himself to think much more than 'nows', it's not until that point that he allows the 'what ifs' to surge. He didn't want to think about them, and the mixture of horror and pain and despair makes him cling to his companions all the more tightly. He wraps one of Inigo's hands in his own, and the other comes to cling to the back of Tidus' shirt, holding them both close.
Without him--
It's Tidus who had given him the drive to try, reminded him that he was allowed to want to cling to them. It feels dumb and stupid and tired, and maybe he is all three of these things, but he's-- 'Dians, Tidus, he doesn't have the words to remember how to thank him.
So he holds onto them now-- part of his hoard, part of his soul-- even though he knows that he's definitely going to have to work through things out later, later, later, later. He's going to be a mess for days, now, but they're here, all three of them, they're here. And for a few, blissful minutes, Esteban is going to sit here, and take comfort in holding onto them.
"Thank you," he manages to whisper regardless, because he may not have the words to express it-- not now, not yet-- but he does know he wants Tidus to know this much. He's thankful. He's so thankful, and maybe, just maybe, Inigo wasn't the only one who needed to hear what Tidus had told him. Maybe Esteban took comfort into hearing as well.
Inigo sandwitch XD
Thank-- thank the Guardian he doesn't even have.
It's not until that point that Esteban allows himself to think much more than 'nows', it's not until that point that he allows the 'what ifs' to surge. He didn't want to think about them, and the mixture of horror and pain and despair makes him cling to his companions all the more tightly. He wraps one of Inigo's hands in his own, and the other comes to cling to the back of Tidus' shirt, holding them both close.
Without him--
It's Tidus who had given him the drive to try, reminded him that he was allowed to want to cling to them. It feels dumb and stupid and tired, and maybe he is all three of these things, but he's-- 'Dians, Tidus, he doesn't have the words to remember how to thank him.
So he holds onto them now-- part of his hoard, part of his soul-- even though he knows that he's definitely going to have to work through things out later, later, later, later. He's going to be a mess for days, now, but they're here, all three of them, they're here. And for a few, blissful minutes, Esteban is going to sit here, and take comfort in holding onto them.
"Thank you," he manages to whisper regardless, because he may not have the words to express it-- not now, not yet-- but he does know he wants Tidus to know this much. He's thankful. He's so thankful, and maybe, just maybe, Inigo wasn't the only one who needed to hear what Tidus had told him. Maybe Esteban took comfort into hearing as well.