Chapter Text
Scar tossed and turned in his sleep, his head rested in the grass that filled the spaces where sunflowers wouldn't grow. He didn't care for mobs, knowing he could fight them off should he be rudely awoken so rudely by them.
Other than the monsters and few farm animals that still remained, Scar was alone. Well, aside from his dreams.
Scar had always felt like this wasn't the first time he'd done something like this before - that being a death game with his friends - it was like a bad taste that lingered for longer than it was supposed to.
And then there was the memories.
They would happen once and while during the series, he'd be messing around with his friends, and a joke would slip past. And that would trigger something, memories that weren't from the past weeks he'd spent here. No, they almost seemed alien. He'd see visions of a desert, poppies and lilacs, sometimes even pandas and Grian. The winged man flying down to meet him, like an angel.
Now, he often thought, he'd never see those beautiful blue, yellow, and red feathers ever again. He'd been stuck in this sunflower field for so long, tending to them without much else to do. There was always a beckoning from the stars (and the back of his mind) to let it end, fall off the tallest cliff and join his friends.
He wouldn't.
He wouldn't take the coward's way out, no matter how much it pulled at him.
Sometimes he had dreams, maybe once a week his subconscious would conjure up a little world for him to explore. His friends were there, it was almost similar to secret life, but Lizzie wasn't mad at him anymore. Jimmy was there too, they wore fun outfits and called themselves the "Bamboozlers".
He found himself aching for those dreams whenever he woke up. Wished he could go back and be a superhero with all of them again, maybe answer some silly trivia questions about things none of them quite remembered fully.
Every time it was the same world with something different added to it. He found it hard to believe his own mind had come up with something so quaint.
As the dreams continued, Wild Life - as he called it when he talked to one of the wandering farm animals - he saw the same patterns Secret Life had started follow into there. He was sad to watch all of his friends be picked off one by one again, and even more so when Lizzie went. But it seemed he didn't have control, not even in his own dreams.
..... And then, after 8 weeks, it was silent.