A Lost Creation

Uncle Giran & Aiko

"Lil' love, c'mon, you've been in here for ages. You gotta have some soup or a shake, love." Giran tries coaxing, stroking your cheek softly.

"Don't wanna." You reply petulantly.

"Darlin' girl..." Giran sighs, settling on his knees beside the bed. "Ya can't sit up here forever. Come an' sit wi' your old grandpaw, he misses ya when you're not around."

"I don't want to talk right now." You reply, burying your face into the lavender scented pillow.

"You don't hafta talk, honey." Giran reassures. "But yer gonna make yerself feel worse if ya just sit sulkin' in here."

"I'm not sulking, I'm sad." You correct sourly.

"M' sorry hon. You'll make yourself sadder if you keep sittin' alone and dwellin' on it." He corrects softly. "Come sit in the quiet with me, love. You can do some sketchin', or play yer game, we can watch a movie together..."

You don't really want to, but you have a feeling that Uncle Giran won't stop bugging you about it until you do it, and Dabi had made it clear that you needed to behave, which meant being polite even though you wanted to be alone and sad that Dabi had left you alone again.

"Okay." You reply quietly, peeling your face away from the pillow slowly.

Giran's face lights up, revealing his gap-toothed smile as he looks at you. "Good girl, c'mon let's get you somethin' to eat an' put some cream on that rash, yeah?"

You try not to grimace at the promise of something to eat. Your stomach was already unsettled from the unknown of whatever was going on with Dabi and why he was wearing weird new clothes that matched his hair, and you were a little scared that food wouldn't stay down.
You let him encourage you out of your new temporary bed and follow him obediently to the cramped little bathroom so he can put some cooling ointment on your face.
He doesn't force you to talk, just hums to himself while applying the medication with his cold prosthetic fingers and then strokes your hair back with his hand affectionately once he's done, rubbing your cheeks with his thumbs like the rash isn't icky.

He doesn't stay like that for long though, standing back up and patiently walking beside you down the stairs.

"So, what wouldya like to eat? Yer paw told me ya like your blueberries, an' can eat a lil' noodle soup... What else, love?" Giran asks, looking down at you.

"I like Spinners protein bars. And fruit shakes." You reply quietly. "I like the fruit shakes better when they're cold. It tastes sweeter."

"How about I getcha a bowl of blueberries out an' give you a shake?" Giran asks, as though it was a good thing to offer.

"I'm okay with just a shake." You reply calmly, not wanting to be rude.

He just hums and pats your head, gesturing for you to go into the living room.

"Go on, lil' love. Watch some cartoons while I get ya dinner ready." He encourages, scratching your scalp gently with his fingertips before leaving you to your own devices.

You watch him walk off to the kitchen, whistling to himself, and reluctantly go into his living area where he had the fire on and blankets thrown over all his fancy furniture.
You sit on the armchair Uncle Giran usually sits on, wrapping one of the heavy blankets around yourself as best you can, and nestling down until you feel comfortable.
With the fire going and the weighted blanket on you, you find yourself getting sleepy, apparently dozing off without realising as Uncle Giran gently shakes you awake.
You gasp, forgetting where you were and what was happening for a second, and the weight of the blanket doesn't help with your panic, your brain not registering that it wasn't someone pinning you down for a second.