It seemed like for every high in life there was a low, as Stu Hopps considered his son's so divergent fortunes. Bailey and his rather unconventional yet delightful mating and Jeremy and his faltering relationship.

Had it been only a few years ago, he would have been horrified at the former and relieved at the later, but the fates had other ideas and he didn't begrudge the changed perspective. If anything, he welcomed it, as he had come to recognize how narrow and shortsighted he'd been living his life before.

But even with his broadened vision, he could not see any good way out for the heartbroken boy and the no doubt stricken little Coyote girl. But right now he had mildew in the pumpkin patch to deal with.

Awfully early this year, but the weather had been just damp and still enough to encourage the infection. He didn't like using fancy chemistries, but maybe just a little sulfur solution might keep things at bay for a while.

And a 'phone call to give him a little welcome distraction. He didn't recognize the number, but it was a local call. "Hello?"

"Hopps, one of your boys just cost me one of my best mechanics!" It was Pablo.

"What are you talking about?"

"Celeste. Says she's leaving the 'Burrows, maybe head on to the big city. She didn't say why, but I can still tell when a romance's gone sour."

"I'm really sorry to hear that. My boy is really broken up about it already, and this will only make it worse." This was bad. Jeremy was already blaming himself for hurting the Girl, and the notion that he had chased her away from her home and job... "I don't suppose you have any ides on how to fix this?"

Pablo snorted, "I wouldn't calling you if I had any ideas. But I've been able to stall her, won't give her final check until tomorrow, otherwise she'd be on her way already."

"Thanks for that. I'll see what I can do." But Stu didn't have a clue. Maybe his Sweet Bonny could help. She was the one who seemed to have all the answers of the heart in the family.

Or maybe not, watching his Best Beloved flail her arms and clash her teeth in frustration. They were walking out of the house, away from delicate ears, as he explained the dilemma.

"Stu, She doesn't deserve this! The poor girl has gone through so much already." She then realized another point and grimaced all the more, "Bailey and Riina. Jeremy isn't going to blame their happy union on his failure, I know Celeste was a bit down in the comparison early on, but I can see Bailey blaming himself now."

Stu groaned. He knew all too well how a single soured relationship could spread like an infection and spoil a whole crop. His own relationship with the Kettus was cordial, but too new to risk a major test, and he could also see the potential for factionalism within the Hopps clan over this too. Or so his over-stressed imagination allowed him to darkly fantasize.

"And how well she got along with the little ones." Bonny recalled wistfully, "I could tell she really loved being with them. And they'll be heartbroken to hear that the Fluffy One has left."

Stu suddenly had the germ of an idea, not one he entirely agreed with at the moment, but one worth pursuing.

Of course, he had mulled it over a zillion times in the time it took to clean up and drive into the 'Burrows to the boarding house where Celeste had been staying. He still didn't have a solid plan, but hoped the intent would hold together. He was reminded of an old saying regarding military strategy, something about the best of plans falling apart when actually tested in combat, or some such.

"Oh, its you," Joan sighed when she opened the door to the sad old Buck. "She's up stairs, last room on the right."

Stu knocked warily.

"Who's that?" A sad little voice.

"Stu Hopps. Can I talk?"

A whine of frustration, then the door opened. The Coyote was so slumped that she was eye to eye with the Rabbit, and he saw all to well the red eyes and heavy tearstains. She motioned him in. She was in travel clothes, a duffle bag stood by the door, and a rumpled sheet covered an otherwise stripped mattress. The room was spotless and empty, ready for a new tenant.

She sat on the edge of the bed and Stu sat in the one chair, he fidgeted a moment, then, catching his breath, began.

"Little lady, I was going to give you a song and dance, a kind of emotional blackmail, about how you shouldn't leave, and all the terrible things that would happen if you did. And I'd hope your sense of self-sacrificing responsibility would win out and you stay for all our sakes."

Stu's face twisted in regret that he had even though of such a thing, and Celeste cocked her head in puzzlement.

"Sure, I want you to stay for our sakes. Honestly, you've become important to us all. But..."

Stu paused to better collect himself, then, "I'm an old Buck, but when I was young, any big problem seemed like it would just swallow me up and never end. Looking even a year ahead seemed like an unknown forever. Them telling me that things would get better in time seemed like, how could they know, this goes on and on and how could I ever face the rest of my life with it."

The Coyote frowned and Stu looked pained, he doubted he was really reaching her. He knew how resistant the certainty of youth could be to the advice of aged experience.

"What I'm trying to say, in the end, is that you ought to stay for your own sake. It may really hurt right now, but running away means not learning how to get beyond that kind of thing." He feared this wasn't working, she seemed to be scowling, but at what?

"And you would really be leaving a big hole in things. It was Pablo who called me about you leaving that got me here in the first place. He's now pissed at me and mine for loosing you." Stu stopped right there. Take a breath. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to play any part of the guilt card on you like that."

He regrouped again, "But I do want you to know that you do have friends who want to be there for you, not as some kind of charity case, but as true friends who value and desire your company."

He sat back and waited.

Eventually he left, not knowing what was going to happen next.

Stu was not much of a drinker and was very much not in the habit of getting drunk, but a couple hours later the bartender at Paul's had to call the Hopps household to get someone to recover their patriarch. As luck would have it, Jeremy was handy, and to be a pest, Jenny chose to come with him to drive Dad's truck back.

"I don't remember the last time Dad ever got stinking in town." Jeremy marveled.

"That's because he never did." Jenny gave her idiot brother her well-practiced stink-eye. "He was always too safe and practical to risk being that kind of vulnerable in public."

"But why now?"

She rolled her eyes. Then as she was about to let him have it with the revelation that it was likely about Celeste, she instead gave him a sad look. The poor boy had been emotionally self-flagellating himself ever since the terrible letter business, and for once, she was not going to kick him when he was so down.

"Let's not worry about the whys for now, let's just get the old Buck home, eh?"

They found him unconscious, face resting on a bar towel to pick up the drool from his gaping mouth.

"Old guy seemed to just want to knock himself out, pounding down boilermakers. I first though he was buying rounds for a whole table of guys, otherwise I'd have cut him off sooner. Then when it came time to do something about him, it seemed like no one wanted to know who he was."

Jeremy and Jenny shared looks, knowing that their Father's fight a while back was still all too fresh and contentious for his erstwhile peers. But that was bad news that could wait; right now they had to get the heavier-than-he-looked bunny home. It ended up easier to simply hoist him into the back of his own pick up, and Jenny was delighted with the prospect of delivering dozy Dad back home.

Jeremy drove himself back, but not before stopping in front of the boarding house where Celeste lived. He parked outside, wishing he could go inside and tell her everything she might want to hear, everything she deserved. But he knew he could never deliver. His life was set, and it didn't accommodate that sweet pup. He didn't know why his Father had drunk himself into oblivion, but at that moment, understood the impulse.

The next day, Stu did not wake up at the crack of dawn, nor did he get up for late breakfast, and was nearly pushing lunchtime when he did get up, but only to zombie walk to the bathroom. But he did stay up, and chugged several glasses of water before thinking of anything else. He shlumped to the kitchen for confirmation that he was still really alive.

His Sweet Bonny gave him a sadly sympathetic look. "Yes, you survived, whether you wanted to or not."

He gave her a ghost of a smile, his face hurt too much or was too numb, he wasn't quite sure which, for anything more. No rebuke, no complaint. Just a gentle bit of understanding. How lucky he was all those years ago. And remembered again the fates of his two sons. "Any news?" he croaked.

"About?" Now his Sweet Bonny was being cruel.

He whispered, "You know who. I tried to talk to her last night. Don't think it went very good." Then he noticed how much his head hurt. And how nasty his guts were.

His Sweet Bonny recognized his discomfort and offered him some pills and weak tea. With honey. So soothing.

As he recovered, he asked, "How's Jeremy?"

"Out on the foggy moors, a solitary figure, brooding in regret, wrapped in grey on grey."

"Oh dear. So, digging post holes or pulling stumps?" They were both never-ending tasks and the default job to work off what ailed a spirit.

"I think he's threatening stumps later, but he's suppose to be packing. He's leaving tomorrow."

That stung as much as anything so far. He so hated to see his little kits leave for extended times. Every one of those who faired far seemed to take a bite out of his heart. Jeremy wasn't likely to be back for nearly a year with his ever more demanding medical education.

By later afternoon Stu was feeling up enough to seek his sad Son. And, mercifully, the sky was cloudy enough to not to blast his still recovering eyes. There he was, breaking down a rather large mass of a stump with wedge and hammer and axe.

Stu watched as Jeremy wailed away at a knot, intent more at pouring his frustration into the effort than actually getting it reduced. Finally, the younger Hopps had to take a breather.

"Hi Dad."

"Think you've killed it enough?"

"Never enough."

Stu really looked at his Son. A big, robust buck, well on his way to being a doctor. At his age Stu had been well mated with a near dozen kits already, working for his Father on the much more modest Hopps holdings of the time. Hard work, but a simpler time. But as he understood the realities of a Doctor's evolution, it would be a good number of years before the boy could enjoy anything like a normal life and even the possibility of the simple comforts of a family of his own. If he ever did.

He recalled an old line for a cartoon of all things, intended as a joke, 'you knew the job was dangerous when you took it'. He suspected the boy knew that going in, but this summer had been a distraction, and now the full reality of his sacrifice had reasserted itself.

"You're going to make it."

"Thanks Dad. I know that. There are just some costs." The Buck looked out at something unseen, then back to his Father. "I just wish it wasn't others who have to pay."

Stu left his Son to finish off the stump. Then a 'phone call.

"Thanks, old Bunny."

"Pablo?"

"Celeste is staying after all. Whatever's going on, she seems to be getting over it, sort of."

"Great news." And it was. He seemed to have reached her after all.

"Wanted to call you earlier, but figured you'd need time to recover." Said with a knowing air.

"You heard about that." Stu had a reputation for being a near teetotaler and there was going to be a lot of talk at his expense about that.

"Yeah, and you'd better not make a habit of it. There were some clowns that wanted to thump you while you were out. It was a couple of my boys who 'discouraged' them."

That was an ominous turn. Stu knew there was still some hard feelings, especially as Alvin had done real time for his part, as well as the casual bigotry that he was no longer a part of.

"I owe you big for that, and I don't expect to get that kind of stupid again."

"You'd better not."

Later that evening, he got another call.

"Hello Mr. Hopps." It was Celeste.

"Hello, Dear. I heard you're staying after all."

"Yessir. And thank you for talking to me. More time to think helped too. After so many moves and changes for so long, the idea of leaving, running away really, was not so hard to consider. But I'm beginning to feel like I'm getting roots here now. That the 'Burrows is becoming home."

"I'm really, honestly happy for you in that. Will you be okay? With the rest?"

"I hope so. I guess things will be a bit - raw - for a while, but I'm hoping that I'll have friends to help."

Stu was reluctant to ask, but, "Would you want to see Jeremy before he leaves tomorrow?"

"No." a pause, then, "I don't think it would do either of us any good right now. But tell him that I have no regrets."

He could tell she still had pain. But he felt she meant it about no regrets, and that was a good thing.

"I will." Then he thought of another thing. "When you feel up to it, the little ones miss the Fluffy One."

The little yip of a laugh, slight as it was, let him know that she was going to be okay after all.