Disclaimer: I do not own Ice Age

If you had asked Manny in his younger age where he thought he would've been years in the future, his answer would've been wildly different from where he was now.

And he would've have it any other way.

It wasn't like he had planned it this way. There was no way to. Never in a million years.

And he liked it like that.

He had a huge extended family now. One that included animals of different species and ages and everything and anything in between.

And yet, he remembered everything.

He remembered how he and Diego and Sid first met. He remembers feeling bitter and angry and everything but happy. He remembers meeting Ellie and her brothers. He remembers the pirate ship, and most recent meteor strikes. He remembers that little human baby, so ugly it was kind of cute in its own way. He remembers how Pinkie felt- all soft and warm and cuddly; a sharp contrast with the hard, adult males he had encountered earlier. He couldn't remember their individual faces, heck, all humans looked alike. But he did remember how they smelled and moved and coordinated their attack and just how ruthless the bipedal terrors could be. When Pinkie rode on his back, sleeping, Manny remembers wondering if Pinkie's father was like one of those hunters, willing to steal other individual's children, and how he must feel now that the tables had turned.

Because Manny knew that feeling all too well.

He remembered wondering if humans even cared, if they even felt at all.

"But they must". Manny remembers saying to himself. He remembered the child's mother (then surely the females cared) and how she pushed the little bundle to him (he remembers it struck him what emotive eyes she had). He guessed that the cold water had sapped whatever strength she had in her because with one final push, the little bundle was his charge now (and Sid's too because he insisted). In that silent exchange, he remembers the passing of responsibility felt only by a parent.

And yet, even then, at that moment. He could've left Pinkie- or worse- squashed him, thrown him hard against the ground and Pinkie would've existed in memory only- but he didn't. And even when he met Pinkie's tribe, the humans that looked so much like the ones that hurt him before, he could've done something more. He could've picked them all up and thrown them against the walls that surrounded the Pass, he could've bashed heads in, he could've broken bones and perforated lungs and ruptured arteries and snapped their spears like the little twigs they were. There would've been no survivors (Sid would've been collateral damage), his handiwork a testament to anger and bitterness and revenge. After all, what could three or four upright primates who were many times smaller than him and their lap dogs do to the mammalian equivalent of an armored tank?

But he didn't.

But most importantly, he still remembered them.

His first family. How they loved him and trusted him completely- and how he had failed them completely. They were something he never really forgot. He would never allow himself to.

He still remembers his first mate and his first calf. All laugh and smiles and him watching the little male calf running around with his mate looking on thinking how lucky he was and how had it made.

"Don't ever let this go, Manny." He remembers saying to himself when watching his calf looking up to him and experimenting with the trunk. His first mate was a good heifer, sweet and simple and took no crap from anyone. "She'll make an excellent mother." He remembers thinking when she lay asleep, pregnant.

But those were just memories, a million miles away. They were so foreign now, those memories. He didn't dare mention their names because the feeling and meaning behind them had changed so much. Kind of like when you repeat a word so many times it starts to lose its meaning and begins to sound like just blabber. Their names and favorite phrases were just soft whispers in the wind that were quickly gone but etched forever in some deep recess of his mind.

He had begun to forget what their voices sounded like. His memory of their faces had begun to become blurry and so out of focus to the point he feared losing what he left of them. He wondered how they would've looked like now, how they would've aged- had their lives not been cut short. Would his mate have aged gracefully? He was sure of it- he knew she had been beautiful. He wondered how his calf would've grown up to be. Surely big and strong and handsome- just like his father. He wondered if he would even recognize them. If he came across them now would he even know they were. What if they suddenly came right now? How would Ellie take to his first mate? He could only hope that they would've been best friends. How would've Peaches reacted to having an older brother- would she have liked that? She was Daddy's Girl, maybe she wouldn't like the fact that he had now to split his attention. Manny would then proceed to kick himself for dwelling on impossibilities.

But still.

In many ways Ellie and Peaches were different from his first family, but in many ways, they were also the same. Had his family not died, he would not have embarked on the long journey that led him to the Herd. He loved what he had now, but had that been too hefty a price to pay?

That's not even counting Sid and Diego. His two best friends who had started as strangers and graduated to family. Sid went from being an annoying creature he couldn't shake to an indispensable floppy green thing he would risk fighting dinosaurs to retrieve. Then there was Diego, the tiger who at first, he wouldn't have trusted as far as he could've been thrown, to the friend he could trust with his and his family's life.

What struck him was the disparities between what he knew about his two friends. Sid would talk all the time about his family and his life and then some. Diego was different, quieter, more reserved, more private (Shira was the same way so maybe there was something there- maybe it was a feline thing). Diego didn't talk much about what had happened to him before meeting the Herd and Sid and Manny had the silent agreement not to ask him. If Diego were to talk, it would be on his own free will and so far, the tiger had let on very little.

It also struck him the fact that he would outlive most of the Herd except for Ellie and Peaches because they were mammoths, they lived longer. Everyone else…not so lucky. It was a miracle that Crash, and Eddie were not dead considering their short life span quadrupled with their antics. He wasn't sure how long Sid would last. And well, Diego was ageing rapidly. How fast and how bad was something probably only he and Shira knew and didn't share to any other members.

But even with all of that, he loved what he had. And even if the bull never told anyone, he really did love everyone in the Herd.

He just wondered how much longer he had left with them before they too, became memories.

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