Chapter Text
It was supposed to be a prank.
Some innocent little fun, because that's Grian's whole schtick. He likes being goofy, likes mischief and antics and keeping his friends on their toes. So he lures the creeper toward the campsite where the others in the group are gathered, chatting away, and he thinks this'll get a good laugh out of everyone. Maybe if he's lucky, it'll scare the shit out of someone too.
Instead, the hissing starts, and he's not fast enough to stop it. A warning flies to his lips, but he can't spit it out in time as Scar slowly turns his head. Briefly before it happens, his wide, green eyes meet Grian's, and Grian thinks that look will be burned into his mind forever.
The explosion rings out, obliterating Scar almost instantly. There's no time for a scream as a gaping crater replaces where the man had just stood, leaving the others to shout their shock and horror at the first life taken. It all fades into background noise, though, because all Grian can do is stare at the hole that had claimed Scar's life and wonder what the hell he had just done.
When Scar picks his way back over to the campsite, clothes shredded from the blast and fresh new burn scars marring his exposed skin, Grian's words lodge in his throat. The two make eye contact once more, Scar's eyes now a jarring yellow.
It was supposed to be a prank, but the guilt pooling in Grian's stomach, drowning him from the inside out, is proof that it wasn't. So before Cleo or Bdubs can turn to fuss over Scar, Grian blurts, "My life. It's yours."
Scar blinks at him, speechless for a moment. Finally, he says, voice bubbling with innocent confusion, "What?"
"I owe you my first life," Grian says, and deep down he knows he'll regret this later on but all he can think about is the fear in Scar's eyes before the explosion, and he wants it all to go away. "Until I reach my yellow life, I'm in your service."
Scar doesn't react at first, only studies him carefully. Grian swallows hard, nervousness rising to join the guilt festering in his gut. It's then that Scar's yellow eyes brighten, and the man asks, "So... Can we take over the desert?"
Of course that's Scar's first thought, and it's almost laughable. The man had just been begging him only a few hours ago to join him in his quest to hold a monopoly over sand, after all. At the time, Grian had refused, believing it too great of an endeavor. Now, though he still believes that, he replies, "Yeah. Yeah, we can."
The sheer joy that lights up Scar's face is enough to chase away the guilt even for a split second, and Grian decides he made the right decision.
—xxx—
The desert heat is hot and sweltering, but Scar seems unfazed, his grin bright enough to match the sun beating down mercilessly on them. "This is Monopoly Mountain!" the man decrees, spreading out his hands to gesture across the sand sprawling below them. "Everything the light touches is ours, Grian. And Pizza's too, of course."
The llama gives an unamused baah. Grian grips the lead just a little tighter, scared the animal might wander too close to the edge of the newly dubbed 'Monopoly Mountain' and take a tumble. Unlike his owners, Pizza did not possess three lives.
"Monopoly Mountain?" Grian questions, quirking a brow. "A bit overzealous, if you ask me."
"You underestimate my genius plan," Scar tuts, giving Pizza a loving pat on the neck. "With monopolies on both sand and dark oak, we'll have the whole server at our feet!"
"I can't believe the first thing you jump to on a fresh server is world domination," Grian snorts.
"I can't believe the first thing you jump to on a new server is murdering me," Scar shoots back playfully.
And there's that familiar guilt, clawing at his insides. Grian bites his lip, averting his gaze for a second. He's still not used to Scar's yellow eyes, even after a day. He doesn't like looking at them, doesn't like the reminder of how he'd dropped the man down to his second life.
"Grian?" A frown overtakes the laugh on Scar's lips, and he furrows his brows. "You alright?"
Shaking himself, Grian forces a grin and looks back up. "Just thinking about how tedious it'll be to protect your Monopoly Mountain."
" Our Monopoly Mountain," Scar corrects. "This is our home now! We're in this thing together."
For some odd reason, the sentiment warms Grian's heart, though both men know whatever partnership this is will be shattered the moment Grian goes yellow.
—xxx—
Grian learns a lot of things about Scar during the early days at Monopoly Mountain. Like the fact that Scar quite enjoys scamming his way to better gear, or that Scar is hilariously fixated on getting his hands on Renchanting's one and only enchanter. As Grian toils in the desert to build a wall and construct a home, Scar greets their visitors with a wide smile, bright eyes, and a horrible bargain.
"Your diamond boots for free sand," the man tells Cleo as she arrives to inspect the strange happenings in the desert. "Your chestplate for a friendship pass," he offers BigB when he treks up the sandy hills to check out the foundations of Grian's house.
Somehow, he wins every time, and their guests walk away poorer while Scar's armory only grows.
It's amusing, Scar's antics, and they're even almost endearing. Though Grian would never admit that, as he warns any visitors about the scam they're about to face. He might be indebted to Scar, but that doesn't mean he can't poke fun at the man and mess with his plans. Scar takes it all with a grin and a laugh.
As Scar schemes up his new 'reputation points' system, Grian puts the finishing touches on their new home atop Monopoly Mountain. Building is his expertise, and this house is a pleasant sight to behold. The light tones of the sandstone and wood blend with the surrounding desert nicely, giving the appearance of a building meant to exist only here and never anywhere else. For their limited resources, it was a fine build indeed.
When Grian brings Scar up to show him, the man's eyes widen with delight.
"Grian, it's brilliant!" he exclaims, bouncing on his feet like a kid in a candy store. "Oh, I can't wait to have a real roof over our heads."
"Well, I'm in your service." Grian clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck, taken aback by the excitement. "You needed a house, so I built one."
" We needed a house," Scar corrects. He has a habit of doing that- we s instead of I s, including Grian in everything he does. But none of this is Grian's; not Monopoly Mountain, not this house, and not Scar's business.
Grian doesn't mind the sentiment, though.
As Scar chatters away happily, babbling about Renchanting and the revenge they'd exact upon those who lived there, Grian can't help but smile. Scar's moods are contagious, after all. Living here, amidst the scorching sand and Scar's wild antics, isn't all that bad. More often than not, Grian finds himself thinking that no matter how this ends, his first life wasn't wasted.
—xxx—
Pizza is missing, and Scar is in shambles.
"I'm sure he's fine," Grian chides, busy pouring over his own architectural plans for the next project. "Maybe he just got sick of the desert. Wandered off a bit."
"Pizza would never!" Scar declares, voice breaking. "Something happened to him! What if he's dead? Oh, gosh, we need to find him. Grian, tell me we'll find him!"
Grian glances up from his plans to find Scar's expression twisting into a pout, yellow eyes glimmering with worry. With a long sigh, he puts his head in his hands. He can't say no to a face like that.
"We can look for him," he says reluctantly, and through the cracks in his fingers, he sees Scar's frown morph into a beam. "Come on, don't look so pleased with yourself. Let's go."
Turns out, looking for a llama in a world even as small as theirs is no easy task. Luckily, though, there seems to be at least one or two people on the server who hold information they really shouldn't.
"Heard you were looking for whereabouts on Pizza?" Cleo asks a little too smugly, leaning against the wall of their desert home.
"Why you- what did you do with him?!" Scar demands, balling his fists.
"I didn't do anything," she replies innocently. "I know where you can find him, though."
"Spit it out then!"
"Got anything to tempt me?" Cleo's eyes shift to the diamond sword strapped to Scar's back. "That's a nice weapon right there."
Grian covers his mouth to hide his snicker as Scar's eyes go blank with dismay, realizing his own tricks are being used against him.
"I mean, I can just turn and walk away," Cleo says with a shrug. "It all depends on how much Pizza means to you."
Scar casts a desperate gaze toward Grian for help, and Grian returns it with a simple shrug, unable to fight back his grin. Dismayed, seeing his own partner was out to see him have a taste of his own medicine, Scar reaches for his sword with a long groan.
In the end, Cleo receives far more valuables than a llama is really worth. This was definitely Scar's worst barter job yet. Though Cleo walks away happy, Scar still manages to look triumphant, as if the victory was his all along. It's one of the things about Scar that Grian finds endearing- his constant optimism, his naive confidence.
The walk to Pizza's location is long and tedious, but somehow, Scar never runs out of things to say. Grian listens to him chatter on about various happenings on the server, from the Crastle to Renchanting.
"Ren won't trade with me, and I told him that when we turn red, he's first on our list," Scar says with a huff, slamming his fist into his hand. The man's tunnel vision on the enchanter is humorous to Grian, though he doubts Ren and the other members of Dogwarts feel the same way.
"What do you mean we? If I turn yellow, I'm out," Grian responds with a shake of his head. There's Scar's habit of lumping them together; a simple 'we' that holds more meaning than anyone could guess.
Scar whips around to look at him, a foreign emotion flashing in his yellow eyes. "Nooo, you're-" he catches himself, clearing his throat. "We're joined at the hip."
"No. I owe you my first life," Grian corrects, ignoring the strange guilt twisting its way through his gut. "That's all."
Scar drops the subject, though he's silent for some time after that.
—xxx—
Scar dies again before Grian can, and somehow, it's worse this time around.
It's been a long day, but at last, the two are homeward bound with Pizza back in their possession. Grian feels like he's been walking for weeks, and he can't wait to rest his weary legs and arms. By some black magic, Scar doesn't seem to have lost any of his usual energy, and he babbles and skips his way through the forest as Grian trods behind him.
Grian's properly sick of sand by now, but as the desert comes into view, he feels some strange sense of relief. He supposes at some point over the past few days, living and toiling alongside Scar, he's come to consider this place home. A hot, sticky, scratchy home, but a home nonetheless.
As they reach the desert, Grian points out a boat near the cactus wall, where an Enderman sits inside. It's one of the 'security guards' Grian had set up to ensure visitors stayed in line, a plan that Scar had been overly excited about. "See that?"
Scar squints in the direction, shielding his eyes from the blistering sun. "Yeah, what about him?"
"I'm very, very sure that Cleo looked at him before coming here," Grian says slowly, a downright evil idea sparking in his head. "Which means that if you break that boat, there's a good chance he'll go after her."
"Really?" Scar immediately perks up, mischief sparking in his eyes.
"Well, I'm not too sure," Grian admits as they continue across the hot sands toward the mountain. "Cleo's halfway across the map. Can Endermen even go that far?"
"We could find out," Scar says, rubbing his hands together. "For science!"
"If this does work, it could be dangerous," Grian cautions, despite it being his idea in the first place. Maybe just the thought of Cleo and the rest of the Crastle gunning for Scar left a sour taste in his mouth, or maybe that was ridiculous. "It's definitely an act of war."
But Scar is set on trying, and there's no changing his mind once he's fixated on something, so they drop Pizza back off at the house and head for the wall. Despite the brutal murder scheme, Scar continues his upbeat conversation, now going on about the two of them being 'science bros'. And against his better judgement, Grian finds himself caught up in the excitement of discovering something new. Scar has a way of making anything seem exciting, from the most mundane tasks of lighting up the desert with torches to seizing a monopoly over sand.
Maybe if Grian had been paying more attention, he would've recognized the crevice up ahead and shouted a warning. But he's so exhausted from the long walk and captivated by Scar's rambles that as the other man prances ahead, turning on his heel to say something to his partner, it doesn't register until it's too late.
The words on Scar's tongue transform into a scream as he tumbles out of view. Almost immediately, Grian is awake once more, spurred into action as he races forward, heart pounding wildly and desperately in his throat. He throws himself onto the ground by the ledge just in time to see Scar's body fall like a rock down the ravine, one arm outstretched toward him and those yellow eyes once again wide with terror.
And then the scream is cut short as Scar connects with the rocky bottom, a sickening crunch taking its place. The desert is awfully, awfully silent, and Scar is awfully, awfully still.
Grian can't move for a while, can only stare at the broken body down below. Maybe, he thinks, it's worse this time because there is a body, bones shattered and skin torn. Or maybe, he considers, it's worse because it's Scar , and he cares. Scar, who's funnier than Grian would ever admit to his face, whose silly jokes and antics never fail to make him laugh. Scar, who's always a little too overjoyed at his own crazy plans, who tried to conquer a whole desert. Scar, who offered him a home on Monopoly Mountain, alongside him and Pizza.
It's Scar, it's still Scar and it's always been Scar, but he knows this now. Scar, down two lives, and Grian still down none.
It takes a while to force himself back to reality, to carefully climb down the ravine to gather Scar's items. The diamond armor pieces Scar had somehow scammed off their servermates, the various odds and ends shoved into his pockets, the sharp weapons strapped to his back. Grian hates touching the body- the skin is still warm beneath his fingers and it feels so wrong and it's all bent out of shape- but he does what he has to do to recover everything of value. He does his best to ignore the pained look scrawled across Scar's face in bright red marker, almost unavoidable.
When he's finished, Grian picks his way back up to the desert and all the way back home to Monopoly Mountain. When he pushes open the door, sweaty and numb and out of breath, he finds Scar waiting for him, shorts ripped and fresh bruises dotting his body.
Scar meets his gaze with cherry red eyes and says, "Guess I didn't mind the gap."
It takes everything in Grian not to sob in relief. Cautiously, he takes a step toward his partner, all too aware of those red eyes. Everyone on the server knew the rules: three lives, then you're out forever. Green and yellow were safe, but the final life was the most dangerous life. Red players were turned hostile, infected with unquenchable bloodlust and armed with the goal to bring the rest of the server down with them to their graves. At first, it had made for an extra kind of thrill, the true heart of the experiment. Now, standing inside a house with the server's first red, Grian doesn't find it exciting anymore.
'When we turn red, Ren's first on our list.' A lighthearted joke, made in a world where 'red' was a distant pipe dream rather than a reality. Scar's red eyes feel more threatening than before, somehow.
"Scar...?" he questions carefully. Every second that passes without a response, he can feel his heartbeat quicken.
Scar looks down at his hands for a long moment, then glances back up, swallowing hard. "I..." he starts, voice wavering. "This feels really weird."
"What does?" Grian tries to keep his tone lighthearted. "Dying, or the fact that you probably want to kill me right now?"
Scar's hands curl into fists at his side, and Grian winces a bit. There's a moment where he considers running, making a break for the door in an attempt to protect himself. He doesn't, though, because that thought is almost laughable. It's Scar . It's still Scar, and no color would ever change that.
"I didn't think it would be this hard," Scar admits, shuffling his feet almost guiltily. "Not killing you. We all made jokes about it at the beginning, but now it's..."
"It's real."
"Yeah." Scar casts a pleading look toward him, and his eyes don't seem so scary anymore. "I don't wanna hurt you, Grian."
"I'm sorry," Grian blurts, because it's all he can think to say. "I should've..."
"Should've what? Told the ravine to spit me back out?" Scar snorts, and it's so Scar-like that Grian can't help but smile despite everything. "Hey, I never expected to live this long anyways. And dying sucks and all, but on the bright side, I can finally go give Renchanting a piece of my mind!"
"We," Grian corrects without thinking. " We can give Renchanting a piece of our minds."
Scar seems taken aback, and for another long second, he's silent. Then his face lights up, and he says, "You're staying?"
"Of course I am," Grian mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck as his cheeks flush. Leave it to Scar to make something like this embarrassing. "I owe you my first life, remember?"
"Well, yeah, but I'm red now. I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to leave."
"I'm not scared of you," Grian scoffs, and he extends Scar's sword out toward him in a rare display of trust. "I think you'll need this if you want to intimidate Ren at all."
Scar hesitates, as if he doesn't quite trust himself, then accepts the weapon, brandishing it in the soft glow of the lanterns illuminating the room.
And in a world where at one point or another everyone would be out to get him, Grian feels oddly safe in that moment with Scar.
—xxx—
Though Scar keeps his newfound bloodlust in check around Grian, it's clear the same willpower doesn't extend toward their servermates. The server's first red is out for blood, and he's gunning for none other than Ren and the rest of Dogwarts.
Grian had meant what he'd told Scar that night. They were in this together, at least for the rest of Grian's first life, and despite still being green, Grian would dirty his hands as much as his partner. Scar, even with an untamable bloodthirst infection tacked on, isn't a killer. He's too ridiculously naive for that, all bark and no bite, so it's up to Grian to satisfy his need for death.
Grian can't outright kill anyone, though. He's not on his red life yet; unlike Scar, he wouldn't be able to walk up to Ren and shank him. No, his kills would have to be indirect, so he hatches a plan.
"I want BigB's cookie," Scar declares one day as he leans over the crafting bench Grian is currently crouched beside, fiddling with gunpowder. Red eyes glint with mischief, and maybe something a little more dangerous. Grian doesn't like to dwell on that.
He glances up at his partner, raising a brow. "You're on your red life, and out of every atrocity you could commit, you want to steal a cookie?"
"It's a nice cookie," Scar pouts in defense, folding his arms. After a moment, though, he adds, "Plus, BigB's is right across from Dogwarts."
"You're insufferable," Grian groans. It doesn't take a genius to know where this is headed. "What in the world is it with you and your obsession with Renchanting?"
" Pleaaaase can we go." Scar clasps his hands together eagerly, casting a hopeful expression at Grian.
"Why do you have to ask?!" Grian exclaims, incredulous. "I'm the one indentured to you."
"Oh, right. I forgot."
Sometimes, Grian wonders how Scar has lasted this long, then he remembers he technically hasn't. Yeah, that sounds about right.
Grian wraps up his schematics, prepares his materials, and readies for his trip. "I've got a plan," he informs Scar on the walk to Dogwarts. "I know how to make instant death traps."
"Instant death!" Scar's face lights up like someone had flicked a switch. "I love instant death!"
"Instant death is the best kind of death," Grian quips, reshouldering his bag. Nestled inside are a copious amount of explosives and the redstone bits needed to set them off- things Grian really shouldn't possess on this first life, but circumstances change.
They bump into Skizz on the way, an interaction that ends incredibly poorly. Turns out, more of their servermates owe their loyalties to Ren than Grian could have imagined, and their plan is almost completely busted by Skizz making a run for Renchanting's headquarters to warn the occupants of the possible danger.
"I authorize you to murder!" Scar shouts, pointing a commanding finger at his target, rowing steadily away toward Dogwarts.
"You know I can't do that, Scar," Grian groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.
It's almost comical, the way Scar stumbles down the riverbank, waving his arms and yelling after Skizz. The man fumbles with his sword, and for a brief moment, Grian wonders if Scar really is going to end a life today. That fear is put to rest as Scar instead pulls out a 'friendship pass', holding it high in the air and begging Skizz to turn around.
With that predicament settled, there's nothing left standing between them and Dogwarts. Grian and Scar approach the gates of the large settlement, the stone walls looming above them in an ominous fashion. Though it's a much kinder looking defense than the desert's own cactus wall and randomly strewn lava, it still sends a shiver down Grian's spine.
"Okay, I just need you to go in there and distract them while I rig the trap," he whispers to Scar, who doesn't seem to share an ounce of the worry he feels himself.
"Easy peasy! I've got this," his partner announces, taking a step forward.
In a flash, Grian grabs his arm, causing Scar to halt in place. "Scar," he says, narrowing his eyes, "When I say distract, I don't mean fight. Don't start trouble. Do not engage. Okay? I can't protect you in there. Don't do anything stupid."
"I never do anything stupid!" Scar responds brightly. At Grian's exhausted stare, though, he hurriedly tacks on, "But yeah, I promise I won't start anything I can't finish."
" Scar ."
"Okay, okay, I hear you!" Scar raises his hands in defense, a shiteating grin spreading across his face. Grian reluctantly releases the other man and watches him pass through the gates into the heart of enemy territory.
Right. Bomb time.
It's hard to work when he's worried out of his mind. His trembling fingers nearly set off the explosives far too many times to feel comfortable, and the sweat on his palms makes it hard to keep a grip on the rails. At this point, he's not sure if his anxiety is from the fact that at any minute he could be caught setting a bomb outside one of the server's powerhouses, or if it's because Scar is inside, defenseless and on his final life.
Why is he even worried about Scar? He shouldn't be. Scar can take care of himself, he's not a fool- contrary to popular evidence. And sure, his new urge to kill might make him a tad more impulsive, but he'll be fine. Ren won't attack him unless he attacks first.
It's not like Scar's life should matter to Grian anyways (but it does, no matter how many times he insists he's only sticking around because of his life debt, that he'll dip the moment it ends). So focus , he scolds himself, heart pounding an incomprehensible beat.
He covers the trap a little too hastily, dropping the bait on top. Just in time, too, because the voices from inside the walls are beginning to raise loud enough for Grian to know the jig is up. Wiping dirt and sweat alike off his palms onto his pants, he struts in with as much casual swagger as he can muster to find Scar starting to back away from a very annoyed Ren and Martyn.
"Hey, Ren," Grian says nonchalantly, dipping his head in greeting. "Martyn. Scar, let's get out of here."
"Hey, you're way too content with what's just happened here," Ren snaps in accusation, ears laid back.
"Dude, I wasn't even here." Grian holds up his hands, taking a step away from the dog hybrid.
"Exactly! Where were you?"
"I was looking for Scar!" Grian exclaims. "Couldn't find him anywhere. He's like a leash kid."
" Hey ," Scar frowns deeply, then seems to forget about it a moment later as he turns to their foes. "Look, fellas, I'll admit it. We have a bit of an operation going on here."
Seriously ? Is Scar about to confess, after all the work Grian's just done? He might end up taking his partner's third life himself at this rate, just to feel something again.
"We wanna steal BigB's cookie," Scar adds cheekily, and Grian nearly groans in relief.
"Yeah, I don't buy that for a moment!" Martyn exclaims. "No one wants that cookie!"
"Well, we'll see who's laughing when you see our beautiful new cookie on Monopoly Mountain," Scar sniffs.
Martyn brandishes an axe, and Ren reaches for the sword tucked into his scabbard. Grian recognizes when a situation has reached a boiling point, so he seizes Scar's arm and makes a tactical retreat. Luckily, the two don't pursue. Nonreds can't attack unless provoked first, and Scar hasn't actively made a move to hurt them. Yet.
The two flee up the hill to BigB's house, Scar giggling the whole way. "That was hilarious," he wheezes as they come to a halt, Grian doubling over to catch his breath.
"That was awful!" Grian returns. "They definitely know something's up." Shielding his eyes from the sun, he peers down from their vantage point at Dogwarts, where Martyn and Ren emerge from their settlement to peer at the enchanting table Grian had placed outside. Somehow, Scott and Jimmy had also joined the fray, slipping into the mix when Grian wasn't looking. The four crowd closer, Martyn even going so far as to prod at it curiously.
"Look!" Caught up in his own excitement ( excitement at killing people? When had that thought formed? ) , Grian once again grabs Scar's arm. "Look, they're gonna set it off!"
Scar squints in the direction, leaning in close. His red eyes are alight with the same thrill Grian feels boiling his stomach. "The enchanting table?"
"Yeah, it's trapped. Just watch." Grian tightens his grip on the other's jacket sleeve, heart leaping into his throat as Martyn once again moves to touch it.
"What's going on here?" a voice from behind questions, and the two spin around in tandem to find BigB staring at them, arms crossed and brow quirked.
Scar, to his credit, doesn't even hesitate to jump into a sales pitch, his natural charisma shining through. "BigB, I will give you everything in my life if you go down there and straight up just mine that enchanter and take it away from Martyn right now."
"Enchanter?" The other man strides over to join them, studying the scene down below.
"He is gonna get it. He's gonna get it!" Scar practically shouts, seizing BigB by the shoulders and jostling him. "Go get it BigB! Go get him!"
Spurred into action by the sharp words and action, BigB immediately stumbles away from Scar down the hill, jogging toward the enchanter. Grian casts Scar a look of disbelief, which is returning with an innocent shrug and smile to match.
I can't believe he's done this, Grian thinks, but there's no time to dwell on Scar's uncanny ability to get people to do what he wants. BigB is rapidly approaching the gathered group, and someone (it's a bit hard to tell from the distance) is pulling out their pickaxe, and then-
The enchanter is gone, and nothing happens.
Scar turns to look at Grian, a quizzical frown spreading across his face. Grian can't bring himself to face him, though. All he can do is stare down at the completely busted trap and wonder what the hell had gone wrong, despair bubbling in his chest.
"Grian?" Scar prompts, half confused and half disappointed.
Grian winces, hands balling into fists at his side. "It didn't work."
"It didn't work? You mean-"
"I mean I failed, Scar," Grian grits out, still unable to look at his partner. "The trap failed."
There's a beat of silence, then Scar says, "Well, that's alright."
Shocked by the reassuring tone, Grian at last casts his eyes toward the other man. Scar still wears a smile, though it's more gentle now, more warm. He gives another shrug and adds, "Don't beat yourself up over it. I mean, you were ready to kill someone for me! It would've been pretty metal, but that's amazin' in itself. We really are a great team!"
"But... you need kills, Scar." Grian doesn't even bother correcting him on the last part, doesn't bother protesting. "Your infection-"
"That's alright!" Scar repeats, giving a booming laugh and rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "We'll get 'em next time." Something in his voice seems off, though, and that's when Grian knows his partner is faking the easygoing act for his sake. He's not sure whether that fact warms his heart or makes it worse.
Before Grian can protest further, Scar interjects, "Now, BigB's gone, so... let's steal that cookie!"
Between the two, they dismantle the decoration easily, stashing it away in their bags. Just in time, too, as BigB himself and Scott arrive back atop the hill, chattering among themselves.
"Hellooo," Scott waves a hand widely in the air upon spotting the other two. "They're currently down there trying to disarm that bomb. Horrible idea if you ask me."
"Why'd you steal my cookie?" BigB exclaims almost immediately after, eyes falling on his house and the empty space the cookie had previously been displayed on.
"Yeah, why'd you steal his cookie?" Scott adds, laughter ringing in his voice.
"Whaaat? No," Scar scoffs, as if the notion is ridiculous. "There was no cookie here."
"We literally just-" BigB protests.
"We just watched you steal it!" Scott starts, and that's when the explosion echoes through the hills, carrying the final cries of those with it.
Grian whirls around, staring down at the scene. A maniac cackle rises from his throat as he sees the hole where Ren, Jimmy, and Skizz had just been standing in front of Dogwarts. "Yes!" he shrieks, staggering toward it in a joyous daze. "YES! It worked! It worked!"
"Ohhh-!" Scar echoes with a triumphant gasp. "We got them!"
Scott and BigB's horrified clamors are stifled by Grian's continuous victorious shouts, unable to contain his excitement. Once again, he grabs Scar's arm, staring up at him with an uncontainable beam. "We did it!"
Scar grins back down at him, red eyes wild and frenzied. He laughs in disbelief, face aglow. "You got Ren!"
" We got Ren!"
"You've just killed three of them!" Scott exclaims. "Jimmy just died once, and he's now died twice! How did you-"
Nothing else matters anymore, though, because Scar is looking at him like he's the only person in the world, and Grian's heart is soaring with adrenaline and triumph, and deep down he knows then that he's here to stay.
(Scar then casts a look at BigB and whispers, "I really want his shoes," and Grian decides some things never change, even when a bloodthirsty infection is present.)