After half the goddamn world has finished plummeting to the ground, Wash takes a moment to get to his feet and take stock. The eye of the storm had kept Dipper and Mabel safe; he'd been close enough to it that the shield Marjara had made him hadn't been too badly wrecked; nobody seems to be screaming in pain or caught under something they can't get out of (yes, Robbie, he hears you); physical triage doesn't seem to be necessary.
So he takes off his helmet, locking it to his hip as he closes the distance between himself and the twins. Taking a knee beside them, he pulls them both into a hug, because Dipper needs it and there's no way he's separating the two of them right now. At least Mabel has taken care of the panic attack.
"There's no easy fix for this," he says, as gently as he can. There never is for grief - it either scars over eventually or it consumes you. Hopefully, for Dipper, they can intervene enough to tip it towards the former. "You need time." He's needed time to recover for a while now, and Wash damn well intends to make sure he gets it.
"I'm sorry." For everything, even what's out of his control, for the universe being relentlessly awful in general and to Dipper in particular, and because it damn well needs to be said and nobody else here has anything to apologize for.
no subject
After half the goddamn world has finished plummeting to the ground, Wash takes a moment to get to his feet and take stock. The eye of the storm had kept Dipper and Mabel safe; he'd been close enough to it that the shield Marjara had made him hadn't been too badly wrecked; nobody seems to be screaming in pain or caught under something they can't get out of (yes, Robbie, he hears you); physical triage doesn't seem to be necessary.
So he takes off his helmet, locking it to his hip as he closes the distance between himself and the twins. Taking a knee beside them, he pulls them both into a hug, because Dipper needs it and there's no way he's separating the two of them right now. At least Mabel has taken care of the panic attack.
"There's no easy fix for this," he says, as gently as he can. There never is for grief - it either scars over eventually or it consumes you. Hopefully, for Dipper, they can intervene enough to tip it towards the former. "You need time." He's needed time to recover for a while now, and Wash damn well intends to make sure he gets it.
"I'm sorry." For everything, even what's out of his control, for the universe being relentlessly awful in general and to Dipper in particular, and because it damn well needs to be said and nobody else here has anything to apologize for.