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Grian just needed to get to False Well. He just wanted a place to crash for the night, as it was the middle of the night, and he was dead tired, and as much as he loved his RV, he needed a change of pace. Plus, he wanted to check it out in the first place anyways. It was win win, right?
Grian didn't trust himself with high speeds, so he let his Elytra spread out and slowly glided towards his destination, admiring the view and breathing in the crisp and cool night air.
Grian glanced to the side, eyeing the e Area 77. It was pretty, yes, and Scar had done an amazing job terraforming, but who knew what they were hiding! They were acting fishy and secretive, and they had stolen his time machine! Plus, they were very strict about the no trespassing rule, Scar being unusually serious and Doc-
Grian wasn't scared of Doc, per say. He knew, logically, that Doc wasn't a bad person, he just got….a little intense. Very, very intense.
Okay, so maybe he was a little intimidated, but he wasn't scared. Sure, a few times during the Civil War his heart rate had skyrocketed and he may be slightly terrified when Doc points his trident directly at his head, but that was all in the moment!
He knew, logically, that Doc wouldn't actually seriously hurt him, but that didn't stop the spikes of fear he felt. Most of the time, they could banter back and forth without problem, and Grian would grin at the three sharp points pointed at his face and laugh off the promises of retaliation if he were to take a single step into Area 77. He forced himself to stay calm, and he could hold a casual conversation with the Creeper hybrid just fine, but if they got into a confrontation, sometimes it was hard to remember that they were friends.
Grian supposed his past may have something to do with behavior, but Doc was also significantly taller than him, had significantly more muscles than him, was a cyborg and was most certainly better than PVP than him. So Grian felt like he was reasonable in his caution. If they got into a direct altercation, he would lose.
Grian couldn't lie to himself. He was scared of Doc. He didn't want to be. Ren had told him and Impulse plenty of hilarious stories of their shenanigans and adventures they had, and he could see that Doc really was just a goof.
But thing was, though Ren swore up and down this wasn't how Doc normally was up and down, Grian couldn't help but feel like Doc just, really didn't like him. They had plenty of 'playful' arguments and teasing, but Grian couldn't help but feel like the playful part didn't play a part.
Even if they were with other people, or when he, Ren, and Impulse were trying to spy on them and got caught, his comments tended to be 'dang hippies!' or something clearly directed at Grian.
He didn't know why Doc targeted him. If he had to guess, it was leftover resentment from the Civil War, because prior to that, in the few interactions they had, Doc hadn't seemed to actively hate him.
Grian didn't know why Doc would direct his leftover resentment from the war at only him, though. He had seen him interact with other former G-Team members, and he didn't seem like he held anything against them at all. Was it because he was the team leader?
Regardless, during the whole Area 77 v. Hippies thing, Doc had…changed. He was more intense, laughed and joked less, and though he wanted his time machine back, Grian also wanted to see what had caused this change. Wanted to know why he was more vocal in his apparent hatred towards him
Ren had noticed the change in Doc too, and he was distressed by it. They were best friends, and because Ren was a Hippie, their friendship seemed to be thrown out the figurative window as Doc focused all of his efforts on Area 77 stuff. Whatever that stuff may be.
Grian sighed, adjusting the way his Elytra rested on his back. It wouldn't do him any good to overthink things. Especially not while he was flying, that was a recipe for-
Cutting through the quiet night air, there was a loud, snapping tear, and then he was falling.
Grian shrieked, heart slamming in his chest as he plummeted to the ground, fear freezing his veins and paralyzing him with panic as the ground rushed up, and Grian squeezed his eyes shut, preparing himself for the inevitable death-
-that never came.
Instead, Grian hit the ground. Hard.
He slammed into the hard and unforgiving ground, and he screamed as pain shot through him, pulsing from the center of his shoulder and it hurt. He gasped, rolling to his uninjured side with a sob of pain as the entire area by his right shoulder burned with pain.
Grian's fingers dug painfully into his palms as he lay there, trembling and gasping, the adrenaline in his veins from falling doing nothing to quell the white hot pain shooting through his shoulder. Tears were streaming down his cheeks and he didn't think he'd be able to stop them, but he didn't care as his shoulder was alight with pain, it was almost unbearable, and Grian couldn't help the whimpers that escaped or the sobs that crawled up his throat.
It was just his luck that his Elytra would break while he was flying over Area 77. Just his damn luck.
Blinking hard to clear his vision of tears, Grian glanced around, trying desperately to ignore the excruciating pain coming from his shoulder as he studied his surroundings. It was dark, but the sky was lit up with stars, and though the moon was partially covered in clouds it still provided enough light to show that he had fallen directly next to one of the airstrips inside the border of Area 77.
Sadly, though, stars wouldn't save him from the inevitable death by mobs, due to the fact that it was night, or if his luck was especially kind to him, by Doc or Scar.
After all, he was trespassing in Area 77, and Grian didn't think they would take too kindly to a Hippie on their lands.
Grian didn't know if either of them would actually kill him. He didn't think they were that cruel. But he couldn't rule out the possibility.
Shifting in his place slightly (and he immediately regretting it as pain spiked through him), Grian couldn't help but curse himself for his God Armor, just this once. If he wasn't wearing it, he would've died, and he'd have avoided this pain in the first place.
The night was ominously quiet, cold air biting at his exposed skin, and Grian shivered, gasping as the motion shot pain through his shoulder, bringing a fresh wave of tears with it. Grian curled himself into a ball, feeling pathetic. Here he was, laying in the middle of Area 77, just waiting to die so the pain would be over.
It was morbid, but it was the truth. He doubted he could manage to eat something without passing out, and it was unlikely that it would heal enough for him to leave before a mob got to him. He was stuck there.
Grian didn't know how long he lay there before he heard a clang echo out, and fear shot through him as he noticed the shadowy figure with a glowing red spot standing in the entrance of the inside of Area 77.
It was Doc.
There was no doubt about it, he worked here, he had a red eye, it couldn't be anymore else.
"Who goes there?!" Doc called, stepping out of the shadows and making his way towards his. Grian bit down on his tongue to prevent himself from making any noise. He hoped that maybe he wouldn't notice him, or would mistake him for a bush, but Doc seemed to narrow in on him, crossing the distance swiftly with long strides. Grian couldn't stop the sob that bubbled up, and Doc froze in his tracks, stopping right in front of him.
Grian squeezed his eyes shut, boy shaking in both fear and pain. This was it, Doc was going to kill him for trespassing.
He heard the sound of gravel crunching, and he tensed, fearing the worst, and then;
"Grian? What...what are you doing, man?" Doc asked.
"Elytra," Grian gasped out, pain flaring in his shoulder.
"You're hurt," Doc whispered softly, almost to himself.
Despite the fear that was making his heart pound, Grian managed to peel his eyes open and look Doc through blurred vision. Doc was crouched down on one knee in front of him, eyebrows narrowed. He was dressed in his usual suit, sans jacket or tie, and his white button up was stained red that Grian recognized as Redstone, though not before his heart leaped into his throat.
Doc's eyes scanned him, and Grian stared at the spot of sky behind him as his shoulder pulsed in pain. He felt almost lightheaded, and now that he focused, he could feel a wet spot on his shoulder, his sweater sticking to his skin.
Doc leaned forward slightly, and his face twisted into a frown.
"You've lost too much blood," he told him. He moved forward, and Grian couldn't help but flinch slightly. Doc froze as soon as he moved, and Grian realized that with his eye, his flinch would not have gone unnoticed.
"Is it okay if I sit you up? I need to see how bad your injury is," Doc explained. Grian nodded mutely, not trusting his voice. Doc slowly sat him up, and Grian let out a cry of pain as the muscles in his shoulder shifted, and it hurt so bad and burned like too much antiseptic on a wound.
"Sorry," Doc apologized. Grian couldn't tell if he was sincere or not, not with the mind numbing pain. Something cold gently prodded around his shoulder, and Grian hissed in pain.
"How bad is it?" Gian found himself asking, fear having subsided as he slowly realized that if Doc was going to kill him during this interaction, he would have done it already.
"Bad," Doc answered. "Would it be okay if I picked you up? I know I have some healing supplies inside."
"Yeah," Grian said, not thinking about how easily he could lock him up in there or how vulnerable he was, "That's fine."
Doc carefully slid his arm under Grian's back, the other going under his knees as he lifted him bridal style. Grian whimpered as the pain in his shoulder spiked, and he shut his eyes and let his head fall against Doc's chest, past the point of caring about his pride of anything of that sort. He could only really focus on the pain, and the fear in the back of his mind that this may not end well.
Grian hadn't paid attention to where they had gone, but after an indeterminate amount of time, he heard the sound of a lever flick and bright light assaulted his eyelids.
He groaned softly as he was sat down, and he squinted his eyes open, determining he was on a table in some sort of medical bay before closing his eyes again, the light far too bright. He was exhausted and in pain, and he really wanted to take a nap, but Grian was still conscious enough to know that falling asleep was a bad idea. Death wasn't permanent, but it certainly wasn't pleasant. If you died from blood loss, it took a few days to respawn, and you were left feeling woozy afterwards. Besides, the pain in his shoulder was too great for him to be able to fall asleep.
"I think I am going to have to cut your sweater off," Doc said from somewhere behind him, rummaging through something.
"'S fine," Grian mumbled tiredly, "Not the one I normally wear."
Something was thunked down on the table next to him, and Grian heard the sound of a zipper.
"Where were you going, anyways?" Doc asked, slicing his jumper in half in one deft motion. He inhaled sharply as it clung to his wound, but after a moment it was discarded on the floor.
"False Well," Grian replied, gasping as something sharp pricked his shoulder. "What was that?" he complained, hoping his voice didn't tremble as much as he thought it did.
"A local anesthesia," Doc said. "You're pretty messed up so it would be hard for this to heal on its own, even with potions. And, antiseptic is painful."
Grian supposed that was a reasonable answer, and sure enough his entire right back slowly began to numb, taking the pain with it.
"How did you…?"
"One of my little projects here."
"What other projects do you have?" Grian asked eagerly. "That is very impressive, after all." And slightly terrifying. Sure, this was nice, but he and Scar could be making so much worse.
Doc scoffed. "Like I'm telling you. You are a dang hippie, after all."
Right. Of course. Grian shouldn't have expected that to work.
Why was his shoulder hurt so bad anyway? He thought he had dislocated it, but maybe he just landed on something sharp. What sharp thing would just be lying around though? Did they not take safety seriously here? He would have thought they would, all things considered.
Grian started when he felt himself being lifted again, eyes flying open as his anxiety spiked again.
"What're you-"
"Relax, man," Doc said, setting him down on a soft surface. "It's late, and we both need to rest." Suddenly, his voice lowered, and his eyes narrowed as he glared down at Grian and said, "Don't leave this room. There are cameras everywhere. If you go looking for something, I will know, and I will not let off as easily for trespassing as I am now."
Grian gulped, eyes wide, and Doc leaned back, satisfied. He watched as Doc walked towards the door, pausing in the doorframe.
"Sleep well, Grian," he said, and then the lights shut off.
Grian let out a shaky exhale, tugging his boots and armor off, placing them in his inventory. He crawled under the covers of the bed, staring at the closed door as his eyes grew heavier and heavier.
Something in his gut told him that this act of kindness would not go without some sort of payment. What that would be, he didn't know.
But he didn't think it would be good.
Grian woke up slowly, and he kept his eyes closed. He listened for the familiar sound of waves lapping against his base, and the distant sound of Mumbo's redstone, if he was using it, or the sound of Impulse moving about in the early morning, but found neither of them.
He tensed, because what he could hear was someone's breathing. Where was he? Had someone kidnapped him? Had-?
A sudden weight sunk down the bed he was on, and something small and warm tucked itself against his chest, purring.
Wait. Purring?
"Jellie!" a voice, Scar, whispered urgently. "Don't do that, you're going to wake him up!"
"I'm already awake," Grian said, grinning at the way Scar jumped out of his skin. He gave the cat parked next to him a scratch on the ear before slowing sitting up, wincing as his injury reminded him of its presence.
"How are you feeling?" Scar asked.
Grian hummed thoughtfully, petting Jellie as she settled in his lap. "Better," he answered.
Scar nodded. "That's good. I, uh, fixed your shirt," he said, holding up his sweater from the day previous. Grian reached out and grabbed it, inspecting it for anything out of place, but it seemed to be exactly the same.
"How did you fix this up so fast?" Grian asked, slipping it on.
"Well, it's noon right now, so-"
"It's noon?!" Grian asked in disbelief. Scar nodded.
"Yeah. I guess you needed your sleep," he said, scratching the back of his neck. "Uh, whenever you're ready, we can head out."
Grian glanced down at the purring bundle of fur on his lap. "I mean, I'd hate to move her…"
Scar laughed at that, grinning at him. "Trust me, I feel yeah. You can just carry her."
"You sure?" Grian asked. He loved cats, after all, and he knew the first rule was do not move them off your lap.
"Yep! Jellies a sweetheart, she won't attack."
Grian slowly gathered Jellie in his arms and stood up, pleased to find that Scar was right.
"Well, follow me," Scar said, making his way to the door, and Grian was quick to follow. As they walked, he tried to eye the surroundings, but all he could see was a hallway with closed doors. Disappointing, but he supposed it made sense.
It wasn't long before Grian found himself at the border, Jellie now in Scar's arms.
"I hope your injury doesn't bother you too much," Scar said, giving him a pleasant smile. "Just make sure this never happens again, okay?"
Grian nodded, stepping over into the land outside of Area 77. Scar gave him a wave as he left, and Grian gave a small one back.
Scar was like himself during that whole interaction, which was confusing, but both of them had told him not to trespass. Plus, he now knew what sort of things they were working on in Area 77. Knew that their kindness most likely came with a price.
Grian shuddered to think what that may be.