Chapter Text
"I DOnt care if you have to keep working all night! It will be done tomorrow or there'll be hell to pay."
Scar abruptly turned around and started towards the town hall with long strides. His cloak spread out like a protecting barrier around him and shielded him from the judging look on Bdubs face. The man had opinions about everything and this time the disappointment was thick enough to touch. But quite frankly, Scar didn't care. The lazer was crucial. How the fuck were they ever supposed to find those mycelium terrorists without it? And if the building team weren’t doing their job - was it really his problem?
The sound of his angry soles on the pavement echoed through the empty streets and with every sharp sound he could feel the knot in his stomach tighten. He hated screaming, but it was the only way to get things done, right? If people would just listen then he wouldn’t have to scream.
A breeze ruffled his hair as he walked up the steps to the town hall. It carried with it the earthy smell of mycelium and Scar shook his head and hurried on.
The town hall, however, did not offer him much in the way of peace of mind. One glance at the throne and pain shot through him again. It had been swapped not long ago. Swapped again that is. And this time the terrorists had “bought” it. Well, they had done so lawfully and it was Scars fault. It still hurt just to look at it as the mere sight of it reminded him of his own failures. He didn’t stop to take a closer look.
1, 2, 3, 4, 5
He ran up the stairs two steps at the time. Once up he circled the railing, disappeared into his office and grabbed his coat from the hanger and his briefcase from the chair by the door. He was on his way out again in less than a minute and opted for the balcony rather than passing the throne again. Without slowing down he put on his coat, opened the large doors and prepared for take-off. Looking down, however, he could see the unmistakable silhouette of Bdubs approaching. The small man was jogging down the avenue, calling the mayor's name as he went. He had his eyes locked on Scar on the balcony. Scar on the other hand focused solely on the wind in Bdubs hair. It was picking up fast. Great, yet another scapegoat to blame for unfinished builds. Ignoring Bdubs' calls he lit a rocket and flew into the darkening sky.
The low clouds where cold against his bare hands and he had to focus to keep himself on the right track. Maybe flying hadn’t been the best choice. No use changing his mind now. If he were to turn around to take the nether portal home he would have to face Bdubs and that might just be the last thing he wanted.
Soaring over the purple-speckled shopping district he saw his guard dogs patrolling the green spaces. They had done quick work with the sheep the resistance had set loose. But it wasn't enough, he always seemed to be one step behind. He sighed deeply. A strange feeling coursed through his body. He felt old, like his body and mind was slowly giving up the fight.
Ding
His communicator. Easily distracted as he was, he picked it up against better knowing. It was Bdubs and something about how you should treat your subjects. As if he didn't already know that. Annoyed, he ignored the message and started to put his communicator back.
Ding
Sigh. Bdubs, again. This time a lecture about obviously ignoring your friends when they are trying to talk to you. Scar felt the anger blossoming inside him. Why could he just leave him alone?
Rrrrrrr…. Rrrrrrrrr…
Furious he picked up the communicator a third time. Bdubs face blinked across the screen and as he passed over Iskalls hobbit hole he answered, still fuming.
“Scar! You can’t just leave like that. And how do you think we’re going to get this lazer done if you keep screaming at the workers, hu? No one wants to work for a dictator! I…”
“Shut up Bdubs.” It was said low and threw gritted teeth but it didn’t matter. The man on the other side of the line fell silent and Scar could feel his own heart pounding in his ears.
“And in what way is that productive? Telling me to shut up. I don't even recognize you anymore Scar.”
“I said Shut Up! Do you think I don’t know that? What do you want me to do? I’m trying Bdubs, but I don't know what to do. They’re winning and you non-stop pestering me isn’t going to stop that!” He could almost see the way Bdubs pressed his lips together and he grimaced inwardly. His campaign captain was only trying to help and Scar was making life horrible for him.
“Well then, if that's how you feel I’ll stop my pestering. See you tomorrow Scar, and hope to whatever lucky star I have that you wake up and have regained your common sense.”
“Bdubs I..”
Click
Angry, though this time more at himself than anyone else, Scar tried to once again push his communicator back into his pocket. It got caught on something and refused to cooperate. Cursing he threw it towards the ground and when he looked up panic spread through every fiber of his body. In a split second he managed to steer out of the way of the closest jungle tree. He was flying too low and just when he was about to right his mistake something caught his eye. Ahead was a little lake and on the other side of that, a small mound in a clearing with a greenhouse. He made his decision and aimed for the circular door.
Landing and somehow managing to get most of the jungle dirt stuck to his finely ironed pants he remained still on the ground several seconds. Out here the weather was still clear and he could see the sunset coloring the sky orange and pink between the trees. The beauty of it made him even more tired than he had been and he struggled to stand. There was no light burning in the windows of the house, yet it still welcomed him with open arms as he walked towards it.
To his surprise the door was unlocked and when he pushed the handle downwards it opened silently to reveal the hall buried in darkness.
“Hello? Anyone home?” When there was no answer he let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. Confident in the knowledge that the owner of the house was nowhere to be found he stepped inside. Looking down however he furrowed his brow. The muddy footsteps that led from the door and made clear marks on the carpet up the stairs was unmistakably Grians. But why would he be so careless not to check his shoes before walking inside? It was only a subconscious thought, but it did make him check his own soles before continuing.
Then he closed the door and was suddenly engulfed in darkness. The tiredness that hit him in that moment threatened to bring him to his knees. Too many sleepless nights making themselves known. Navigating more on pure memory than with his eyes he moved towards the small stairwell. With heavy steps he made his way upwards and the closer he came the louder the ticking of the grand clock became. The sound threw him back to a time when he had walked in and out of this house like it was his second home. Suddenly there was a lump in his throat and no matter how many times he tried to swallow, it wouldn’t go away.
Opening the door at the top of the stairs the realization of what he was doing hit him full force. The room bathed in the light of the setting sun and he was dumbstruck as he watched the beauty. He felt heavy tears fall down his cheeks and considered for a moment if he should turn around. This place wasn't his to use. But then the door quietly closed behind him, as if some external power heard his thoughts and decided to nudge him in the right direction. And, as if steered by an invisible hand, Scar moved through the room and sat down on the wrinkled covers of the bed. Closing his eyes and letting the sunlight color his features, he drew a hitched, shaky breath before blinking away the tears.
His briefcase laid beside him and with a sudden intent he placed it in his lap and opened it. There, between the thousand color coded folders and papers, was one of his most prized possessions. Small enough to fit in his hand yet large enough to hold the world. He brought it out and let the rest of his things fall to the floor with a muffled Thud.
A pair of glistering, pink eyes stared back up at him with all the love the little wooden figurine could muster. It had lost one of its ears, the right one, in its meeting with the stone floor of his office and sometimes Scar thought it looked sad because of this. Otherwise it had survived fine, something Scar was eternally grateful for. He kept it in his bag to remember. Remember everything that was good and everything he wished he could do differently. Now his vision blurred as he looked at it and he brought it to his chest and held it close. He let his head fall until he laid down upon the bed and closed his eyes to let the tears loose.
Is this what it feels like, he wondered, to be absolutely miserable. To have your heart broken beyond repair. He was so tired, so fucking tired of this stupid war. How had he let it go this far? He didn’t know, he just wanted to sleep. Sleep and forget about everything even remotely connected to grass or mycelium. Oh void, he wished Grian was here.
The thought of Grian pierced through his heart and he gasped for air before burying his face in the soft fabric of the pillow. It smelled like dust and the dampness of the jungle but Scar could almost fool himself that it still, despite the long months since he slept here, smelt like the jungle bandit. His jungle bandit. Or was he Rens jungle bandit now? Another thought, another tear and Scar fell asleep still clutching the little cat in his folded hands.
***
When Scar woke up during the early morning he was shivering in the cold and damp still dressed in his wrinkled suit atop the covers. His neck and back where stiff from his less than optimal sleeping position and he spent several minutes getting his right leg back to normal. He stood up, yawned and stretched his arms in the air before looking out the window. The fog rolled around the tall trees which looked like gigantic pillars in a grand hall somewhere. He searched in his pocket for his communicator and when he didn’t find it there he looked through both his coat and briefcase. When he finally remembered what he’d done with it he sounded a sigh of surrender and sat back down. Placing his face in his hands and he tried to rub it awake.
“Come on Scar! This isn’t like you. Why are you letting all this get to you? Pull yourself together. You're Mr Goodtimes, remember?” He tried his signature smirk but decided against it, a smile would have to do for now. Besides, he had no time to sit here and practice. He had to find Bdubs and apologize. Gathering his things and straightening the covers he snuck out the front door as if he had never been there.
Scar unfolded his wings and took off towards the shopping district, taking care to go high up in the air so as to not collide with any trees. He thought for a moment about stopping for his communicator. But thinking about it, he had no memory of where he had lost it and to attempt it felt hopeless. Instead he just flew until he saw the first buildings on the main island. He landed, quite proud of having flown without disasters, and strolled towards the town hall. So early in the morning the streets where empty and Scar found he loved the solitude it brought. He whistled a cheery tune and took his time to browse the few storefronts he passed.
When he reached the town hall he took the stairs and not even the sight of the throne could get his mood down. Instead he whistled his way into his office where he sat down behind his desk. The stacks of paper where piling high on top of it telling him simply how much he had been neglecting his duties.
Sigh .
But there was also a considerable amount of already filed papers, all with Bdubs signature. Scars heart warmed at the sight of them. His relentless campaign captain. Golden, that's what he was and Scar made a mental note to sincerely thank his friend. And so he picked up his reading glasses and his fountain pen and started with the first pile.
***
The sun had long since peaked over the horizon and washed away the last fog before he took his eyes off the stacks again. The street below him was waking up and he had just started to think about breakfast when his door opened. It startled him, for there had been no knock and there usually where. In came Bdubs carrying a few folders and a cup of coffee. He stopped dead in his tracks when he spotted Scar and looked at him dumbfoundedly.
“Eehh..”
“Good morning to you too, my dear friend. What brings you here?” Scar smirked and Bdubs just stared at him with his mouth slightly open. Scar was aware he never showed up this early at the office. Yey he couldn’t help but feel slightly offended by his friends surprise.
“I… you…” Bdubs stumbled over his words.
“Now, there there Bdubs. Cat got your tongue? Don't look so surprised. Was just about to go grab a bite to eat at a cafe down the street. Why don’t you join me and we can discuss how we shall end those pesky fungi-fenders.” Scar stood and grabbed his coat. Bdubs, still mute, nodded eagerly and followed him out into the corridor. They walked down the stairs and out on the street before he finally found his voice again.
“Well, this is fantastic. Fantastic, Scar. But are you ok? I called at least a dussin times yesterday after hanging up on you and I honestly thought you were avoiding me.”
“Ah, that. Believe me, I wasn’t. My communicator is somewhere in the jungle between here and my base and I don't feel like looking for it. I hope you'll forgive me.”
“Sure, sure! I’m not even going to ask. So, Lookie Lookie or Cinnabun?”
“Cinnabun! Oh, and it's my treat.”
And they disappeared down the road together. Scar couldn't remember the last time he had had so much fun. He laughed and joked for what felt like forever. They talked business too, of course, but mostly they just enjoyed each other's company. The building of the laser had paused because of the rain that had swept over the island, but Scar didn’t care. What difference did it make with one more day?
Bdubs marveled at the change he saw in his friend and found himself hoping that maybe, just maybe, it would all be good from now on. Well, hope is, after all, the last thing that abandons you.