disclaimer: i don't own winnie the pooh!
title: burnt mornings
summary: You'll be grown-up, and I'll be okay.
dedication: A. A. Milne :)
notes: i totally stole this from this other fanfiction where the parents burn the barbecue so they have pizza but i guess it's pretty common, yeah? dude i tore up so bad at the end of spring cleaning day (the one where rabbit bans easter) and everyone was just like "ha you're crying" but it was pretty sad, yanno?
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Pooh lives for long mornings, the ones he spends sitting on his thinking log with Christopher Robin, enjoying the sunrise. He's a dumb ol' bear. He can't think very far, nor can he speak very smartly. The stitches on his back are coming loose and his stuffing's falling out. Christopher Robin calls it "losing weight".
But he is content in the fact that his dearest friend is growing too - watches his knobby knees turn to white-laced scars and chubby cheeks turn to hollow cheekbones. And although Piglet and Tigger and the others are all gone, still he sits on his log with a sticky pot of honey, watching the same sunrise.
One day they have a barbecue and it doesn't go well. Christopher Robin, although a grown-up with grown-up hands, still shakes when handling the grill, and Pooh Bear is just that, a creaky bear who's too old for his time. The smoke rises far above the tree where Piglet makes his home, and when they try and douse the burning fire with water, it just rises higher. No harm done, thinks Pooh, and the fire accidentally burns down Piglet's house. Piglet isn't alive anymore and Christopher Robin is really bad at cooking.
Needless to say, the meat is all wrong. Instead, they have pizza on the porch, and Pooh wonders how times have changed. Before, he'd eat honey, and now all Christopher Robin has is this modern food, which tastes okay but just isn't the same. His stomach doesn't handle pizza well but he eats it anyways, watching the smoke still spiraling into the air.
No, it's not okay. It's not okay that Piglet's house is gone. He's just an old bear and he can't cry, but he wishes he could because that's the only way he knows to honor his friend.
The human next to him begins to hum a familiar little song, and he's surprised that it's even remembered. It's the song he sings before sneezing, and true to his word, the boy lets out a massive sneeze, before blowing his nose.
"C'mon, Pooh Bear, what do you wanna do?"
He wants to say anything, but it's just not the same without his friends. Getting up and off the porch, he stretches his short little stuffed arms and wonders when Christopher Robin will get tired of him too.
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"Silly old bear," he mutters, as it's time to pack up for college. The house next door is having a barbecue, and he can smell the tantalizing scent from here with the window open.
Pooh lies in the donation bag, ready to be given to whatever poor kid would need a tattered old stuffed animal next. He still remembers his old friend's last words: "It's time to grow up, Christopher Robin."
What if he doesn't want to? But Pooh's right. It's time to grow up, even if he'll never be too old to love his childhood friends. Inside his head, Christopher Robin hopes that Winnie the Pooh will find his way to the rest of them, deeply hopes that whatever kid receives this treasure of a friend will also have Piglet, Tigger, Eeyore, Rabbit, Owl, the Heffalump, oh, he wishes he could name all their names but it's just a loose dream like laundry on a windy day.
He watches the smoke rising and takes a deep breath.
"Christopher Robin," he says. "It's time to get up and grow up."
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what have i done