"No fair, Smarty… You left the game before it started… No fair…"

Chantal watched her sister silently. The pink poufs of curly hair on either side of Dulcie's head shook as the rest of her shook with effort to hold it in. The younger twin had always been the most expressive of the demon pair, and this was… an occasion Chantal would have expected her sister to be unhappy about. She was a bit out of her depth when Dulcie started talking to her favorite human's gravemarker.

"Smarty, you weren't… You meanie. You left. Why did you leave…? All to protect those kids from stupid ol' Bill and the rest of them…? Or was it Stupid you were protecting…? Oh, wait, you hated me calling him that, but you left so DEAL with it…."

Dulcie sniffed, hitting the ground beside where she was kneeling and coming up with a fistful of snow. She flung it at the rudimentary wooden cross that, for now, marked the grave of one Stanford Pines. The snow smacked the wood but didn't move it, infuriating Chantal's littler twin for a brief moment before her fury was extinguished again in the wake of her grief. The fire demoness' breath came in puffs through the cold air, and for once she didn't seem to be upset about being out in the snow or wet. Of course, Dulcie had more important things to be upset over at the moment…

"Dulcie…"

"Shutup! Stupid's still alive so you can still be happy! You won't be bored out of your skull until he dies naturally and then we're BOTH bored until they come around again…. I miss Smarty already…."

Chantal backed off as Dulcie stood up. The pink-haired demon was glaring at her paler sister, dark skin stained hot pink with the angry flush to her cheeks. Painted nails elongated into claws the same color and abruptly Chantal was looking at her sister's demon eyes. The snow started to hiss around Dulcie's feet and evaporate to steam.

"Dulcie. Stop. Nothing you do will bring Stanford back… We don't have our natural forms, so we can't… we can't bring him back."

"No! We- I- he- Smarty-A-a- WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!" Dulcie flailed her arms, stammering and stuttering until she could stand it no longer. She burst into tears.

The breakdown occurred much quicker than Chantal thought it would, and that would be a record. Her plump twin, all curves where Chantal was all edges, pounced on Chantal and clung on tight. With a soft sigh, Chantal stroked through the tangly curly pigtails that Dulcie never took out. She made sure her twin didn't fall over into the snow as Dulcie wore herself out crying, wailing, screaming at a dead man, and flailing irritably by turns. When she had finally calmed down, slumping against Chantal, Chantal looked at her with cool blue eyes.

"Are you done?"

"….For now…. Can we go back home…?"

No, not really, but Chantal knew what she meant. She nodded at her sister, and the younger demon smiled wanly up at her twin.

"What'd I do without ya, Shanty?"

Chantal's lip twitched.

"Not much."

The twin demonesses made their way back to their abode. Dulcie leaned heavily on Chantal, probably still dizzy from the influx of emotion hormones. You never did quite get a handle on being a flesh bag, Dulcie… The emotions tired you out, while me on the other hand…. Chantal decided to not finish that line of musing.

Only one fleshie had woken those feelings in her, and she didn't want to deal with him and her sister at once. He was still healing after his brother's untimely demise. And Dulcie being there would only compound the hurt, which… Chantal, strangely, wasn't interested in doing. Life threw enough curveballs Lee's way.

After they arrived home, Dulcie nearly seemed back to her old bubbly self. Chantal knew this wasn't close to real. Demons knew illusions better than anyone… And it irritated Chantal that Dulcie thought her older twin so dense as to fall for an illusion Dulcie had repeatedly tried. So, instead of buggering off and doing her own thing like Dulcie said she should, Chantal nestled next to her sister's soft form. Another reason she liked snuggling Dulcie- she was just like a squish pillow. You just had to make sure not to squeeze too hard. That had ended badly the one time she tried it…

Chantal, stroking Dulcie's hair, began to hum. Dulcie's meaningless fussing and chattering died upon hearing the vibrations in her twin's throat. A demon of song was always pleasant to listen to- at least, for other demons. Chantal had to adjust herself so things were a bit more pleasant for human ears, at least when the other twins- twin- was- were-was about. Verb tenses.

When Chantal swapped to words in demon tongue, Dulcie started getting drowsy within minutes of the song. All as Chantal had intended. When her sister had drifted off to sleep, the blue-haired demoness tucked the covers of their shared bed around her sister and slid from the bed. Chantal padded out the door of their cave home, and simply gazed upward. It was nighttime. Times like this, she used to spy on the elder of the Stan twins as he slept uneasily in his brother's old home.

White batwings spread from the demoness' back, the gust proceeding their exposure making her straight powder blue hair move swiftly in the wind. White was a strange color for a demoness' magic to manifest as, but white was the color that paired perfectly with her blue. White magic was the only color magic she would allow to pair with her blue body, as her other sibling- the REALLY annoying, infuriating, insipid one who she currently felt like slaughtering on sight- took her first choice. She had wanted yellow but the color was destined for HIM alone, even long before his creation.

Shaking her head to clear it, she took flight. At least these flesh bodies herself and her sister had…fallen into so long ago allowed her to feel the true pleasures of flight. She winged her way over the forest, even the strongest creatures scattering before her presence. Chantal outstripped them all in power, and when she felt like it, brutality.

Tonight wasn't a night for screams, though. Chantal knew the screaming had already been done… Tonight was for comfort. Her human, her Stan, had to be feeling the loss of his twin greatly… Chantal knew she would feel awful- fallen demoness or not- if she ever lost her other half, Dulcie.

She landed softly as the snow on the rooftop of the Mystery Shack. Chantal snorted as she spotted the "S" on the ground again. Some things never changed, at least.

Chantal crawled over the tin roof to peer into the attic, looking for the younger pair of Pines. One bed with a pink bedspread was empty, while the other with a blue duvet had two lumps under the covers in it. She repressed a smile. At least they had each other to comfort and be comforted by. Lee, on the other hand… had no one, once again. The tiny smile that had come over her lips despite repression of the strange feelings died a swift death at the thought.

Chantal wall-crawled to his window, using her claws. She made a face, realizing she had accidentally left marks of her path from the roof to Stan's windowsill on the outside wall. No matter, they were small enough mortal eyes might not notice. Especially the stupid mortals that generally lived in the Falls.

Clinging to the wood right by the window, she peered into the window. Stanley was sitting in his bed, staring at the wall opposite with a thousand yard stare. The kind of stare she had seen on mortals after coming home from war, no matter the century. The sight of her Stanley having that kind of stare tugged at heartstrings she might have not noticed the existence of if it weren't for him. She tapped on the glass. Stanley didn't move. Chantal frowned, and tapped harder. Stanley usually noticed after the first few taps by this time in their relationship. Actually, the window was usually open at this time- their usual visiting hours.

"Go away."

Chantal frowned. That was wrong. Not his usual answer. Why wasn't he playing the visit out right? Stanley wasn't even looking at her. Big hands clenched in his threadbare bedspread. She knocked against the glass, louder than the tapping. He looked over, scowling. Her Stanley looked tired and irritable because of it.

"I said go AWAY, Chantal."

Chantal scowled. The demoness refused to be placated with seven words. She needed to make sure he was okay. Make sure her… her Stanley would be alright. Wouldn't do anything stupid like she'd found him doing in the first place.

Chantal whacked at the window, the glass cracking under the force she used.

Oops. She hadn't meant to hit it that hard… Mortal things were so breakable. So were mortals, as Stanford Pines had proved, unfortunately.

"Geez, alright, alright, I'm comin'… Don't break the window."

He opened it, and Chantal's frown deepened as she saw him up close. He had circles under his eyes from lack of sleep, and his face was set into an almost permanent frown. She reached out, and wrapped her arms around him, hugging gently.

Stanley heaved a sigh, tugging her in. Chantal's feet touched down as lightly as the snow that gave her birth, and she still clung to him silently. Stanley gave her a mildly annoyed look and she just shot him a wide eyed stare. With a grunt, he gave in. Stanley was able to lift her just fine thanks to her levitation abilities. The lifting was more so her feet wouldn't trip his up as he went back to bed with heavy, weary steps.

She only let go when they were sitting down again, solemn blue eyes gazing at a tired and sorrowful brown pair. Chantal didn't argue when he leaned over, kissing her softly, and mortal lips beautifully warm against her eternally cool ones. Now this was familiar. Human courtship was so gentle. Long pale fingers combed through silver locks as strong hands scooped her into his lap. His hands ran over her body so gently, so gently, like she was the breakable one when he was infinitely more breakable and infinitely more precious…

Dulcie's words rang through Chantal's head again, "You won't be bored out of your skull until he dies naturally and then we're both bored until they come around again…"

Chantal didn't necessarily mind waiting for her lover to come back around. After all, demons had eternity to wait. But… With Dulcie losing someone so recent… The idea of loss was fresh in her mind. She scooted backward a bit, and he paused for a moment before attempting to continue.

"Stanley… How… How does "loss" feel?"

He definitely paused then, looking at her long and evenly. Chantal began to be nervous that she had said the wrong thing at how… oddly unreadable his face had become. Stanley was normally very expressive and easy to read, at least for Chantal. Which was why she was twitchy when he gently took her hand, placing it directly over his heart. Her pianist fingers spasmed in his grip, but she let him put her hand there. Chantal blinked in confusion at Stanley, who only met her gaze steadily.

"Feel that beat?"

Chantal nodded. She often liked listening to his heart's thumping, so unlike her sister's and her own. Thump. Thump. Thump. In regular time too. He knew that she liked the rhythm of the sound. She had cuddled up often enough on that excuse.

"That means the ol' ticker's still going. But loss… Loss feels like it stops. Feels like it's stopped even when it keeps going."

Chantal blinked, trying to understand. Remembering her body grew uncomfortable when she forgot to breathe now and again, she thought… she might understand, a bit.

"Loss… feels like you can't breathe. Like your heart and lungs… Stop working right."

A gruff "Yeah" issued from Stanley, who looked sad again.

Something in Chantal squeezed painfully seeing him so sad. It was almost like before, when he had first replaced Stanford. Only worse, because there was no way back for his brother from Death. That must… Hurt. Hope of retrieval being gone… And being alone til Death took him too, without his other half.

She leaned over, and her lips met Stanley's. Chantal let a breath of cold wind escape from her body into his- maybe she could breathe for him, if he couldn't breathe himself? He just coughed and backed up, blinking a bit. She looked at him, confused again. He sighed, running a hand through his grey hair as the breath came out in cold smoke.

"Not good?"

"Don't do that. S'weird. I mean, I can breathe literally… I just figuratively feel like I can't breathe…"

Chantal sighed, her head beginning to hurt. Human feelings still didn't make much sense to Chantal. How sweeping and overwhelming they were to Dulcie was foreign to the blue haired demon, but she understood to a point that those feelings were fragile and shouldn't be trampled on.

She snuggled close to Stanley, who wrapped his arms around her in return. He heaved a sigh, stroking his fingers through the silky blue strands. Callused fingers caught on the silky hair that Chantal was so meticulous about cleaning and brushing, but she didn't care. If the contact comforted her favorite human, why not?

"Can we just… be, tonight? No more foolin' around… M' not in the mood."

He sounded sad again. Dammit. The feeling was almost palpable, radiating off him. The taste of his sorrow was bitter, she decided. Something she didn't like very much. Chantal cuddled closer, but decided to answer verbally.

"Of course."

She could feel him sigh, the movement of his chest easy enough to discern this close. He patted her head with that rough, working man hand of his. Almost a paw but not quite. She leaned into the touch, her eyes half-shutting from the pleasure over a mere touch like that.
"Thanks."

They both lay back onto the bed. Stanley pawed for a blanket, but Chantal got to it first and tugged it over them both. A bit more shifting around, and they both were cocooned in the worn old blanket Stanley kept for his duvet. Chantal would have to fix that, eventually. This comforter barely kept in the heat…

He petted her head again, his fingers tangling in her hair. She squinched her eyes shut, pleased with the contact. It felt…nice. It made her feel… happy, she realized. Happy that even after all her stupid twit of a little brother had put him through, he… cared enough to hold her and touch her so tenderly.

A smile drifted over pale lips as one of her long-fingered hands came to rest on the opposite side of Stan's chest. Otherwise, she remains still.

Eventually, he grows sleepy. She can hear his breath slowing, feel his body slipping into sleep. It made her sleepy as well, as silly as it sounded. Maybe she would dream of something pleasant this time, Chantal mused. If she dreamed at all… Sometimes she would go months- years even- without dreams that were more than colors and abstract sounds. But then, that was before she met Stanley.

He's asleep. She is too, only moments after.


A rather miserable hurt comfort drabble... My apologies for making it so sad DX This fic is probably going to be a bunch of drabbles, like I said. Can anyone guess who Chantal and Dulcie's little brother is?

Love, hugs, and cookies to those who review,

-June