Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Thanks, Impulse. I think he’ll really appreciate these.”

“No problem, man. I hope he feels better soon, just let me know if he needs some more. The factory’s not up and running quite yet but I can totally make em by hand for him if he wants them.”

“Oh I’m sure that won’t be necessary, but I’ll let him know. Thanks Impulse.”

“No problem man. I hope he feels better soon.”

“Me too.” Mumbo tucked the handful of chocolate bars into his jacket pocket and checked his communicator - word had gotten around pretty quick that Grian was sick, and almost every hermit who found out wanted to do something to help. Bdubs was apparently bringing over his biggest, comfiest blanket, Gem was collecting flowers and plants to help relieve his ache for the outdoors and Pearl was making him tea… It didn’t take much to bring out the caring side of the hermits. As much as they played their rivalries and such, they were all really close friends in reality and always willing to help each other; It was one of the things Mumbo loved most about his fellow hermits. He waved a quick goodbye to Impulse and showed himself out the factory gates, making his way across boatem to deliver the chocolate to Grian. He tried not to worry himself too much.

The windows all had their curtains drawn, all the lights were off and the entire house was dead quiet. If he didn’t know better, he would’ve thought no one was home. Mumbo closed the door behind him as quietly as possible, slowly removing his shoes and padding upstairs in his socks. He thought about knocking on his bedroom door, but decided against that, and instead just quietly opened it.

“Grian?” He whispered into the darkness.

The reply was a pained whine followed by the sound of rustling blankets and feathers, punctuated with a yawn. “Mmmm…. Mumbo?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Hello sleepyhead. Good nap?”

“Mmm it was alright. I keep waking up and falling back asleep.”

“Yeah… Bdubs is bringing you another blanket, and Pearl’s making you tea, hopefully those will help.”

“Aww, they really don’t have to, I’ll be alright. I just need to rest a bit more. It’ll go away,” Grian said dismissively, but the gravel in his voice from his sore throat said otherwise.

“You’ve already been sick for 4 days, Grian, we’re getting worried.”

“I know, I know.”

“Here, these are from Impulse. He said he can make you more if you want them.” Mumbo produced the bars of chocolate from his pocket and set them on the bed in front of him. “Are you sure you don’t need to go to a hospital or something?”

“I’ll be fine, stop worrying so much,” He replied. “These look amazing, thank Impulse for me, yeah? This was really nice of him.” He smiled weakly for a moment until it was interrupted by a dry coughing fit.

“You’re the one worrying me! Stop being so worried-about-able.”

Grian laughed softly at his made up words, and leant over to rest his head on Mumbo’s shoulder. Mumbo laughed with him and quietly put an arm around him, watching his messy feathered wings rise and fall slightly with his laboured breathing. He reached over to attempt to smooth down a couple feathers. He sighed.

“Do you want me to do anything else? Or I could just stay and keep you company for a bit, or I can leave if you want to go back to sleep?” Mumbo asked quietly.

“Don’t you have stuff to do? You don’t have to stay for my sake,” Grian replied, putting his hand on Mumbo’s leg and staring at it while he absent-mindedly stroked his thumb across the fabric.

“I mean yes, I always do, but that’s beside the point. I will make time for you if you want me to stay or if you need me for anything; You’re really sick.”

“Mmmm…” Grian hummed in thought, not moving from having his head on Mumbo’s shoulder. “…Stay for a bit? Please.”

“Alright. Shift over a little, then, so I’m not hanging off the side of your bed,” He replied, gently tapping his leg. Grian obliged, shuffling over into the corner of his blanket nest; he pulled Mumbo down with him as he nestled down, shrugging the blanket over them both and burying his face into Mumbo’s suit jacket.

Mumbo laughed a little and moved slightly to be more comfortable, picking up the bars of chocolate and setting them on the bedside table. “Comfy there, Grian?” He got a content hum in response. “Did you just want to go back to sleep?” He took the silence and slow breathing as a yes.

It didn’t take long for Grian to fall back into deep sleep, cuddled into Mumbo’s side like he was. Unfortunately, Mumbo’s leg was starting to also fall asleep, and he didn’t want to deal with pins and needles. He started to gently pry Grian off and slide out of the bed - figuring he was fast asleep enough not to notice him gone - which was a delicate and lengthy process with how careful he had to be in order to not risk waking Grian up. Usually Grian was a pretty heavy sleeper, but with his illness he was sleeping much worse and much less reliably, so it was important that he be allowed to rest as much as possible. If he woke up there was no telling how long it would take him to fall asleep again.

Eventually he managed to clamber out of the blankets, taking a second to admire how cute Grian looked all snuggled up and asleep with his messy feathers and tousled hair. “Sleep well, G,” He whispered, closing the bedroom door as softly as possible.

He picked up his shoes on the way out, waiting until he was outside to put them on so that the heels wouldn’t click against the wooden floors and make too much noise. As he was carefully closing the front door behind him, he heard the familiar voice of Bdubs call out. “Hey Mumbo!”

He instinctively cringed and turned with a finger against his lips to shush him. Bdubs was tying up his horse, Lulu, and grabbed a large bundle of green fabric out of her saddle bag. “Hi Bdubs,” Mumbo replied softly.

“Oh, right. Sorry,” Bdubs said in a hushed tone, adjusting the large, fluffy green blanket in his arms. “I have the blanket I promised for Grian - is he doing any better?”

“Not really, but he keeps saying he’ll be ok. He’s asleep again at the minute, do you want me to hang on to the blanket and I’ll give it to him next time I check in?”

“Oh, that would be wonderful. Here, I also brought him some of my favourite hot cocoa powder, it’s what I like to drink when I don’t feel good,” Bdubs explained, offloading the enormous bundle of fabric into Mumbo’s arms and pulling a small tin out of his hoodie pocket to put on top. “Hopefully it helps him get better soon.”

“Oh-“ Mumbo made a soft noise as the blanket was put into his arms - it was heavier than he was expecting. “Right, yeah. I’m sure he’ll really appreciate that, thank you Bdubs. Um, yeah, I’ll bring this back to my bus and take it to him next time I’m here,” He replied, starting to walk with Bdubs back to his campervan.

“Alrighty. Well I hope he likes the blanket and the cocoa, and if he needs anything else just let me know and I can come right over with more things.”

“Thanks Bdubs, I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

“Okay then. I’ll see you later then, Mumbo, and tell Grian I hope he feels better!” Bdubs replied, untying Lulu and climbing onto her back.
“Later, man.” With a wave and a little kick, the rider and horse were soon disappearing over the hills.

Mumbo took the time to put the blanket and cocoa away before he got back to working, making sure he regularly checked his communicator for any news of any other Hermits coming over or of Grian requesting his presence. Annoyingly, he had just settled into a working rhythm with the assumption that no one would be around soon, when he got a frantic knock at his door.

“Yeah, coming! Hang on!” He called, setting everything down and opening the door whilst wiping the redstone dust off his hands onto his trousers. On the other side was Pearl, looking quite panicked.

“Grian’s gone.”

Chapter Text

“Grian’s gone.”

“What?! What do you mean he’s gone? Gone where?”

“I don’t know, but he literally said himself that he won’t be able to fly for long like this so now I’m really worried that he’s gonna crash somewhere. He’s not answering chat either.”

“Oh gods, right, ok. Don’t panic. Don’t panic. I’m panicking a little bit. How do we know where he’s gone?!”

“Grab your elytra, let’s see if we can find him somewhere.”

Mumbo quickly dashed back inside to find his elytra - a bit of a mechanical marvel if he did say so himself. Four wings similar to a dragonfly’s, with a black to red gradient in the translucent material, his elytra was sleek and exactly his style. Pearl’s was similarly mechanical, except with large luna moth shaped wings made of silvery material. She’d painted little crescent moon symbols onto them as well, in metallic silver paint. Both of them took off, scanning the air and ground for any sign of their avian friend.

They spent some time flying around Boatem and its surroundings, calling Grian’s name just to see if they could get any sort of response. Mumbo couldn’t help but panic himself slightly - what if he crashed into Cub’s canyon and got impaled? What if he made it all the way to Etho and Iskall’s mountain, and then tried to jump off the top and just fell? What if he got lost? As the panic was starting to build more, he was pulled out of his thoughts by Pearl’s voice calling for him.

“Mumbo! He’s over here!” Pearl shouted, swooping down to land in a small clearing in the dark oak forest. Mumbo quickly followed suit, trying very hard not to injure himself on landing - he managed to only stumble a little bit. Grian was sat on the ground, half conscious leant up against a tree with very messy wings full of leaves, sticks and displaced feathers.

“Grian!” Mumbo cried out upon seeing him, running over and skidding onto his knees in front of him. “You absolute spoon! What were you thinking?! Are you hurt? Is anything broken?”

“Hi Mumbo,” He mumbled, breathing shakily.

“Oh gods, what do we do, Pearl?!”

“I don’t know!” She replied instinctively, but took a second to calm down and think clearly. “Right, let’s- we need someone who can help him if he’s injured. Who do we know who’s a doctor?”

“Oh god, I don’t think any of the hermits are qualified for that. X, maybe?”

“I know Gem has some knowledge of healing plants and stuff but I don’t think that’s what we need… Beef? Zedaph?” Pearl stood with her arms folded close around herself, brows furrowed as she went through the mental list of hermits trying to guess who had any sort of medical knowledge.

“Zedaph? Zed does science and contraptions and that, he’s not a doctor is he? Is he? I don’t know actually. We need someone who knows what to do with potentially broken wings, maybe a concussion.”

“Guys, guys ‘m fine…” Grian mumbled again, trying to sit up and grunting with pain.

“Don’t move!” Mumbo and Pearl scolded him in unison. “You’ll just make yourself worse,” Mumbo finished.

“Grian, do you have someone you’d go to for help with stuff like this? Have you ever broken your wings before?” Pearl asked, in a much softer tone.

“Ngh… Impulse…” He responded, trying again to sit up despite their protests.

“Impulse?” Mumbo questioned.

“If that’s who he thinks can help, that’s who we’ll ask. I’ll fly ahead to talk to him, you carry Grian back,” Pearl replied, preparing to take off again.

“Carry Grian?” Mumbo questioned. “I don’t know how strong you think I am, it’s a long way to Boatem-“

“Fine, I’ll carry him then. You go ahead!” Pearl replied, pushing Mumbo gently but firmly out of the way in order to get a good, comfortable grip on her friend. “We just have to get moving.”

“Right, okay, yeah. See you there!” Mumbo agreed, taking off and flying back to Impulse’s factory as fast as he could manage.

Pearl made sure Grian was comfortable in her arms, carrying him on foot to outside of the forest so she’d have an easier takeoff. She wasn’t about to walk him back to boatem from here. Finding a small hill, she started to glide and managed to use a firework without jostling Grian too much. Once up in the air, she made sure to use rockets sparingly as to not make too many quick movements that could cause him pain.
“Enjoying your flying?” She asked teasingly. “You’re pretty stupid, you know that right?” Grian made an unimpressed hum in response. “You have to rest to feel better. You’re only prolonging things. And now you’ve hurt your wings, you’re definitely not flying anywhere for a while.”

“Yeah…” He muttered. ‘I’m bored at home, though. I just want to be able to build like normal again… I have a lot more sympathy for Scar now, being sick so often.’ He thought to himself. At least Impulse should be able to help put his wings right - one of them definitely felt broken.

Pearl felt a little bad for teasing him, seeing Grian’s dejected expression. “Hey, c’mon. It’s not that bad. I’m sure you’ll be able to be up and about with a few more days rest.”

“Hope so.”

Meanwhile, Mumbo was just landing at the factory’s courtyard. “Impulse?” He called out as he stepped into the factory. “You here?”

“Mumbo?” Impulse called back, sticking his head out from his storage room. “Back so soon? Woah, what’s going on? You look like you’ve been dragged backwards through a hedge, buddy.” He stepped out and walked over.

Mumbo cleared his throat and ran a hand through his wind-tousled hair. “Yeah, sorry - Grian tried to fly, and he’s hurt himself. Pearl noticed he was missing, I went with her to look for him - she’s carrying him over.”

“Oh man, should we get Xisuma? They’re the only one I know of with medical knowledge.”

“Well, we thought of that, but Grian reckons you’ll know how best to help with his wings,” Mumbo replied, running his hand through his hair again.

“Oh, I see. He asked for me specifically?” Impulse questioned, expression shifting to one of quiet understanding.

“Yeah, by name. What’s up with that? Why did he ask for you?” Mumbo asked, shuffling his feet.

“I’ll explain later. Come help me clear out space on one of the tables in the mixing room,” Impulse replied, turning to walk deeper into the factory with a beckoning hand. Mumbo followed without further comment.
They had a few minutes of silent clearing, simply moving items from the biggest table in the room into nearby shulkers and onto other surfaces, then grabbing cloths to wipe it down with. Mumbo was just about to start asking questions again, when Pearl’s voice echoed from the entrance hall.

“Impulse? Mumbo? Where are you guys?” She called, peering into all of the doorways she could see.

Impulse half-jogged to go greet her, Mumbo followed slower behind. “Hi Pearl- Hi Grian.” His expression was soft, and Pearl and Mumbo ended up standing in the doorway once Impulse took Grian in his arms to the table. He carefully laid him down and helped roll him onto his stomach to have proper access to his broken wing. “You’re gonna need someone to preen these for you for a while - no stretching them or anything.”

Grian grumbled.

Impulse grabbed some supplies from his shulkers - long narrow pieces of wood, and long strips of black fabric. “Pearl, could you fly as fast as you can to Cub, and ask for cotton, alcohol and bandage?”

“Sure - wait, doesn’t Scar have those things?”

“I think he does, actually. Pretty sure I’ve seen a first aid kit somewhere in the swaggon,” Mumbo replied.

“I’ll go to Cub, you check the swaggon - no hurt in doubles,” She replied, patting Mumbo’s shoulder and jogging to the door to take off as fast as possible.

Impulse laid a warm, comforting hand on Grian’s shoulder. “Don’t worry buddy, we’ve got you. We’ll get you patched up real good. I’ve gotta set the bone in your wing back, and that’s gonna hurt a lot but there’s nothing I can do I’m afraid - ready?”

Grian took a deep, shaky breath, swallowed, and nodded. His fingers were white with his grip on the table’s edge.

Crunch.

“Gahhhh!” Grian’s cry of pain echoed around the factory, and it left his throat sore and his hands hurting.

“Sorry!” Impulse replied. “Sorry buddy. Had to be done.” He started to carefully wrap the fabric strips around the break, using the wood for a splint.

“Found bandages, no alcohol and I forgot what the other thing was that I was looking for,” Mumbo called as he walked over, holding the bandages out to Impulse. “I heard that scream from outside - you alright G?”

Grian held up a slightly shaky thumbs up.

“Cotton, was the other thing. Hopefully Pearl gets back soon,” Impulse replied, tying off the fabric. “Here, Mumbo, come help preen his wings and get some of the leaves and stuff out - just leave the base of ‘em for him to do himself.”

“Oh, sure.”

Pearl returned shortly after, arms full of supplies. “Cub was a little generous with the medical supplies,” She informed them, dumping them on the table next to Grian. Impulse laughed a little and started sorting through everything, picking out cotton, disinfectant, suture thread and a needle.

“Man, Cub really thought of everything except anaesthetic,” Impulse commented as he poured disinfectant onto a cotton ball and hovered it over Grian’s most major open wound. “This is gonna sting a little Grian, brace yourself.” Grian let out a hiss and slight whine as Impulse cleaned up the scrapes and cuts on his wings. “Hmm… I kinda wanna stitch this cut, it’s pretty nasty, but there’s no anaesthetic… how much pain are you in, G?” Grian groaned and moved to sit up. “Woah, easy. Alright, we’re done here, I get it. You can sit up while I bandage this last cut.”

“Thank you, Impulse,” Grian replied, slowly sitting up and bracing himself on the edge of the table while he waited for him to finish.

“No problem, man. Broken wings aren’t fun, I’m glad Pearl and Mumbo found you.”

“Me too.”

“Actually, yeah, I was gonna ask - Impulse, why do you know so much about wings?” Mumbo inquired. “I mean, you don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to, but.” Mumbo finished his sentence there.

“I uh… well. I dunno how best to explain this without having to do more explaining than I want to right now, so let’s just say I’ve fixed some broken wings in my past,” Impulse required, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “You good to get back home, Grian?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks Impulse.”

“No problem man. Rest easy, buddy.”

“Mumbo, you’re coming with me,” Grian informed him, taking him by the wrist as he slowly trudged back to his house.

“Right, yeah. See you Impulse, bye Pearl.”

“See you later Mumbo,” Pearl replied with a little wave, helping Impulse clear up before she headed home herself.

Chapter Text

Upon arrival back at Grian’s house, Mumbo watched Grian relax into the dark and the quiet. They kicked off their shoes, and Mumbo let himself be pulled along back upstairs to Grian’s bedroom. He helped rearrange the vast quantities of pillows and blankets as per Grian’s detailed instructions, then helped the injured man into his newly remade bed-nest.

“Comfy?” He asked, voice a cocktail of concern and hope.

“Mmph. About as comfy as I can be with a broken wing,” Grian replied, eyes fighting to stay open.

Mumbo was hit with the sudden realisation that it was rather late, and he didn’t know if Grian had even eaten anything since breakfast. “Wait, did you eat dinner?”

“Mm, no, but it’s fine.”

“No it’s not. I’ll go make you some soup,” He announced, already turning to the door.
“I’m sick of bloody soup,” Grian grumbled. “I’ve eaten so much bloody soup.”

“Alright, well, I’ll make you something else. What do you want?”

“...Fish. Something with fish.”

“Do you have pasta and tinned tuna?” Mumbo asked, going through his (very short) mental list of things he knew how to cook.

“I think so.”

“Alright, I’ll make you tuna pasta then. If you’re asleep by the time it’s done, I’ll wake you up to eat.”

“Mmkay.”

And with that agreed, Mumbo made his way back downstairs to raid Grian’s cupboards. He was not particularly confident in his cooking ability, but the only people he could think of that knew how to cook well were Beef, Etho and Keralis. None of whom were nearby, nor around at the minute. So, he was made to bumble through cooking by himself.

By the time he actually got the pasta in the oven, he’d: spent ten minutes looking for a can opener only to realise the cans had pull tabs and he’d been holding it upside down, spilt rice while getting the pasta out of the cupboard and had to clean it up, and struggled to grate cheese because he kept dropping the block. At least the tins of sweetcorn and chopped tomatoes hadn’t given him any trouble.

He watched it in the oven like a hawk, determined to get it right - unfortunately, he was zoning out thinking about his storage system. After a few zone outs and back ins, the pasta was done. He pulled it out of the oven, spent a minute or so looking for a suitable utensil to scoop it with, and then put some into a bowl for Grian. It was then that he realised he hadn’t actually eaten dinner himself - today had been pretty eventful. He put some in a bowl for himself, and started to carry both bowls upstairs.

As predicted, Grian was snoring quietly when Mumbo opened the door. “G,” He half-whispered. “Food’s ready.” Grian slowly stirred, moving to sit up and groaning with the ache of his broken wing. Mumbo put the bowl of pasta on his bedside table, and perched himself on the end of the bed to eat his own.

“Thanks,” Grian muttered as he reached over to grab the bowl, sitting it on his pillow and half curling himself around it. “Mm, ‘s good.”

“Glad you like it,” Mumbo replied softly. “There’s more in the tray if you want seconds.”

“I’ll finish this first.”

The pair ate in relative silence after that. Mumbo took their bowls downstairs, and when he came back up Grian pulled him into the blanket nest with a noise that sounded vaguely like words. What those words were intended to be was a mystery to all but the man himself. Regardless, Mumbo rid himself of socks, tie, and jacket, and laid down to sleep; he was tired anyway, and there was no point fighting a clingy, sick Grian.

The next morning, the pair were awoken by light knocking at the door. The sun was bright behind the curtains, with bars of yellow light across the room where it peeked through. Mumbo groaned and detangled himself from Grian’s clutches, running a hand through his hair and picking up his communicator from the bedside table as he made his way downstairs. Grian shifted a little, awake but stubbornly trying not to be. Mumbo opened the door to Xisuma, Cleo, and Joe.

“Hi! Oh-! Hi, Mumbo! Are you alright?” X greeted, tilting his head slightly, tail waving idly behind him.

“Wow, you look like shit,” Cleo commented, laughing to herself a little.

“Uh, hello? Sorry I- I just woke up,” Mumbo replied, running another hand through his still messy hair.

“We can tell,” Cleo remarked.

“You just woke up? It’s past noon,” Xisuma replied, checking his communicator to make sure he wasn’t wrong about the time.

“It is? Geez, I must’ve been tired after last night… Anyway, what are you guys doing here?” Mumbo asked, shuffling his feet.

“We were gonna offer to tidy and clean Grian’s house, y’know, cause he’s been sick for a while we figured he wouldn’t wanna do it and thought we could help,” Joe explained.

“Oh, well that’s- that’s very nice of you. Um, Grian’s still asleep I think, I’ll- I’ll go ask him if it’s alright.”

“Alright! We’ll just wait here, then,” X replied with a smile.

“Yeah, yeah okay.” Mumbo left the door open while he made his way quickly back upstairs, opening Grian’s door quietly. “You awake?” He asked the shape under the blankets.

“Unfortunately,” Grian replied, pushing the blankets off his head to turn to look at him. “What’s going on?”

“X, Joe and Cleo are here, they want to know if it’s alright if they clean and tidy your house for you,” Mumbo explained, picking up his tie, socks, and jacket from Grian’s floor. He fixed his hair and moustache in Grian’s mirror while he talked.

“That’s nice of them.” He moved to sit up, hissing at the pain in his wing when he moved it. “If they really want to, they’re welcome to.”
“Cool, I’ll let them know.”

“Mm, as long as they don’t make too much noise.”

“Of course.”

Mumbo made his way back downstairs, shrugging his jacket on. “He said go ahead if that’s what you want to do, as long as you’re not too loud about it.”

“Awesome! Do you wanna join in, Mumbo, or are you busy today?” Xisuma asked.

“I can help out for a bit. I could do with working on the plans for my megabase, though.” He explained, holding the door open for them.

“It’s not that big of a house, there’s already 3 of us. You go do your plans, we’ll take care of Grian and his house,” Cleo told him, patting his shoulder as she walked in. Mumbo thanked them all, and left them to their cleaning.

“We should split up- divide and conquer, I think,” Joe suggested, looking into the kitchen.

“Good idea!” X replied. “And if one person finishes before the others we can help each other around other places.”

“Alright, I’ll get upstairs, Joe do the kitchen, X do the lounge and the office,” Cleo instructed.“I have a feeling I’m gonna need bin bags for Grian’s room.”

“Probably,” Joe agreed, heading into the kitchen with her and rummaging through Grian’s cupboards for his cleaning supplies. A few moments later, Xisuma joined them.

“Bin bags are probably a good idea, start by clearing out all the rubbish before we clean,” He remarked, standing behind Joe where he was crouched by Grian’s under sink cupboard.

“Ah! Bags. Ooh, actually, we best keep voices down,” Joe realised, hushing his tone a little. “I think Grian still has a bit of a migraine.”

“Right. Let’s start clearing rubbish, then,” Cleo said, taking a bag she was handed by Joe and quietly heading upstairs while the others started in their areas. She knocked gently on Grian’s door. “Grian? Can I come in?” She took the weird groan-hum-noise as a yes, and slowly pushed the door open. “Dark in here. Hi, G. How are you feeling?”

“Pain,” He grumbled from inside his blanket nest, where he was buried.

“Yeah, heard about your broken wing, you silly sod. Still got that migraine I assume?” She asked, starting to clear the wrappers, used tissues, and empty packets from his bedside and around the bedroom floor. Normally she’d pass a little bit of judgement for him letting it get so messy, but he’d been properly ill so she left him off.

“Mmph,” Grian replied, poking his head out of the blankets.

“We’ll try and keep quiet then. Do you want anything, while we’re about?” She asked, scanning the room for anything else that needed throwing away.

“Cold water.” He shuffled to sit up a little more. “Please.”

“Alright, I’ll bring up some water in a bit. Will you be alright if I hoover in here?” He shook his head. “Ok, no hoover in here. What about downstairs?” He shrugged. “We’ll try and you can tell us, then. I’ll go throw this rubbish away and come back to clean.”

Xisuma found very little to throw away in the living room and office, so removed what needed to be and set about tidying up. There were pieces of paper all over the office with scribbled measurements, notes, and building plans; X gathered them as neatly as possible and tucked them into the top of Grian’s desk drawer. The living room had a couple books on the coffee table, one open with a piece of paper and pen on top. He put the closed books back onto the bookcase, tucked the paper into the book on the page it was opened too, and slid that into the bookcase as well. The pen went into Grian’s desk drawer. He gathered the several mugs up and took them to the kitchen, grabbing a cloth and polish to dust with.

Joe made good progress with removing the rubbish and emptying the bins, and was starting to wash up pots and plates when Xisuma came in to drop more off and grab cleaning supplies. “Man, at this rate we’ll have this done faster than a hungry hyena can chase a gazelle.”

“Yeah, it’s not too bad really. I guess since G’s mostly stuck to his bed and to his room, the mess didn’t have much chance to get spread about,” X replied.

Indeed, it didn’t take the trio long to dust, clean, hoover, and tidy the house. Joe even took the time to polish the lenses on the telescope, even though Cleo pointed out that it probably definitely wasn’t a priority. Cleo took Grian his water, and the boys poked their heads into his room to give well wishes and say bye. Grian thanked them, and curled himself up in his blanket nest to try and get a little bit more sleep.

Chapter Text

A few more uneventful days went by, though Mumbo made sure to stop by every day to make sure Grian was eating, had water and wasn’t trying to injure himself further. The days turned into a couple of weeks, with a few hermits occasionally stopping by to bring him tea and honey, or flowers, or just to sit and talk quietly with him for a while.

Grian woke up that morning to gentle knocking at his bedroom door. He sat up, not saying anything as he expected Mumbo to just let himself in as he had taken to doing the past couple days. However, after a few moments of silence and stillness he spoke. “You can come in, Mumbo, you don’t have to wait for me to say.”

“Oh, it’s uh- it’s Impulse, actually,” came the voice through the door.

“Oh, you can come in,” He replied, slightly surprised. “Sorry I assumed you were Mumbo.”

“No problem, man,” Impulse assured him, ducking into Grian’s room. “I just came to say hi and check on your wing. You sound a little better.”

“Mmm, my migraine is starting to let up, and even though I’m losing my voice my throat hurts a bit less,” He explained, sitting up properly.

“Still nauseous and fever-y?”

“Yep.”

“That sucks. Hopefully this is a sign you’re starting to get over it though. You mind if I have a look at how your wing’s doing? It’s been a couple weeks since we strapped it up, and you can probably get those stitches taken out.”

“Go ahead.” Grian moved so his back was to Impulse, his injured wing supported by his large pile of blankets.

Impulse first removed the old bandages - they were more than due a change, and it let him remove the splint to check that the bone was set right still. He cleaned it up, since the small cuts around the area were mostly healed, and put the splint back with fresh bandage. He found where the worst of the cuts had been that he’d stitched and checked how it was healing - not quite there yet, but some of the others were definitely ready to have the stitches taken out. Once he was finished checking on Grian’s wing, he packed up the stuff he’d brought with him and gave Grian a few more iDimpy bars. Just as he was getting ready to leave, Mumbo knocked and let himself in.

“Morning- Oh, hi Impulse. Didn’t expect you to be here,” Mumbo commented, standing in the doorway and shuffling his feet.

“Oh, I was just heading out actually. I was just here to check on Grian’s wing, remove some stitches and change the bandages. And to see my buddy, of course.”

“Right, right yeah. Makes sense.” Mumbo couldn’t help the question eating at the inside of his cheek. He’d been thinking about it on and off since the injury happened - why on earth did Impulse know how to fix wings? ‘I mean, the obvious answer is he’s done this for Grian before, back in the other seasons, but I don’t remember that… I mean, why would I, it would just be those two. I don’t remember Grian really injuring his wings, though…’ His thoughts had him zoning out.

“Uh, Mumbo? You good there buddy?” Impulse asked, waving a hand in front of his face with an amused but concerned expression.

“Huh? What, yeah, no, I’m fine. I’ll- See you later, Impulse.”

“Right. See you around, Mumbo,” Impulse replied, amused and confused by his friend’s behaviour, but packing up his stuff to get back to work on his factory anyway.

When Impulse was gone, and they’d both heard the front door close, Mumbo sighed and sat on the end of Grian’s bed.

“What on earth was that about?” Grian asked. “Are you alright, Mumbo?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Thoughts running away from me, is all.”

“Right. What were you thinking about?” Grian moved to be sat facing him, though still half buried in his blankets.

“Um… Well. I don’t really…” Mumbo’s sentence trailed off mid way. “G, can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, of course. What’s up?”

“Why does Impulse know how to fix broken wings?”

“Oh. Cause he’s done it lots before, why?” Grian responded, amused by something that seemed like such a simple question. Typical Mumbo to totally overthink something easy.

“But who’s wings has he fixed? I only know of you and Xisuma when he was Beesuma, and I only remember you hurting your wings once the whole time I’ve known you.”

“Uh… That’s sort of not my information to tell. If you don’t already know and are just being a spoon, then you’ll have to ask Impulse and he’ll tell you if he wants to,” Grian explained.

“Right. Yeah, okay. I’ll- I’ll ask Impulse. Anyway, I- I came here to see you and- and to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine, Mumbo. Well, I’m not fine but I’m… y’know. The same as I have been, pretty much.”

“Right. I’m really worried about you, you know. You’ve been sick for a really long time now.”

“I know. It sucks, but I don’t know what I can do to make it go away any faster. I’m resting, I’m drinking water and all the herbal teas Gem keeps giving me.”

“Mmm. Is it worth asking X, do you think? Maybe he could try and look into what’s caused it?”

“I doubt he’ll find anything helpful. I think we just have to wait it out a bit longer,” Grian concluded, smiling sadly at him.

“Mmm. Okay. Do you want me to get you anything?”

“Cheesecake.”

“I- What?! Cheesecake?”
“Cheesecake. I’ve had this incredible craving for cheesecake since last night and I have had no chance to get any,” Grian explained.

“Alright. I’ll - I think Beef sells cheesecake. I’ll… I’ll get you some cheesecake, buddy.”

“Thank you!”

Mumbo left Grian’s house and started to talk to himself so he wouldn’t forget the things he needed to do as he walked back to his house to get stuff he might need. He didn’t know if he needed anything yet, but he needed to go somewhere while he got his thoughts straight. “So, I need to get cheesecake for Grian, I need to ask Impulse why he knows how to fix broken wings, and I need to get quartz from somewhere for observers. Right. I’ll go get cheesecake for Grian and see if the Evil Emporium has any quartz, then I’ll bring that back, then I can drop the quartz off and go see Impulse. Right. Plans.”

Mumbo managed to get through most of his day without much distraction, dropping off a cheesecake for Grian and the quartz at his base while he psyched himself up to talk to Impulse. Unfortunately his psyching was interrupted, because he ran into Impulse outside the factory gates.

“Hi Mumbo!” Impulse called, carrying a shulker box.

“Oh! Hi, Impulse! Actually just who I was looking for.”

Impulse set his shulker down and dusted himself off. “Yeah? What can I do you for, bud?”

“Well, see… there’s something I wanna ask you. Sorry- Are you busy? You look busy. I can come back later?” Mumbo offered, shuffling around shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“I was just gonna restock iCandy, I’m not really that busy at the moment. Whaddya need?”

“Um, ok. Can we- is there somewhere we can talk?”

“Uhh, sure. Hang on,” Impulse picked up the shulker and set it away in his inventory. “C’mon, we can talk in the factory.”

“Alright, cool.” Mumbo followed Impulse into the enormous factory, through to his storage room.

“So, what’s all this about? What’s up buddy?” Impulse asked, turning to face him and leaning against the crafting table.

“Right.” Mumbo shuffled his feet nervously. “So, yknow a couple of weeks ago you fixed Grian’s broken wing?”

“Yeah.”

“How?”

“Uh, well I set the bone, and then I just-“

“No, no, not what I meant. How did you know what to do? Grian said you’ve fixed wings before, but I’ve only seen Grian break a wing once, and the only other person I’ve ever known have wings is X as Beesuma.”

“Oh, right. Um… Well, I know from… fixing my own.”

“From fixing an elytra?” Mumbo questioned.

“No, no. Not an elytra.”

“But you don’t have wings.”

“Not like this I don’t.”

“What do you mean, ‘not like this’?”

“Y'know how a lot of hermits aren’t really human?” Impulse started, rubbing the back of his neck.

Mumbo shuffled again. “Yes.”

“Well, I’m not either.”

“What-… what are you, then?” Mumbo asked cautiously.

“I’m… I’m a demon. Let- let me show you, ok?”

“Ok…” Mumbo answered, taking two steps towards the door. Impulse stood up and shrugged his jacket off, folding it and setting his hat on top of it. He pulled his shirt off and set that aside too, at which point Mumbo got a little antsy. “Woah- woah, dude! What exactly are you showing me?!”

“Don’t worry, nothing like that! I just don’t want my clothes to get ripped. Just look, okay?” Impulse explained, though he was slightly blushing. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, concentrated, and his body started to shift. Two yellow horns grew out of his forehead and curved backwards, his ears got a point to them, and two huge black and yellow dragon-like wings sprouted from his back.

“…Woah.”

Impulse opened his eyes, showing them now with black sclera and slightly glowing bright yellow irises with split pupils. “You see now why I took off my shirt?” He joked, turning around to show Mumbo the full stretch of the wings. He also reached into the waistline of his pants, and freed a yellow tail that was cut short with scarring at the end of it.

“Dude. Impulse you look… you look awesome.”

“You think so?” Impulse turned back around with a cheerful glint in his eyes. Or maybe that was the glow.

“Yeah. No this- this explains a lot of things, actually, now that I think about it.”

“Sorry I didn’t tell you, man. Guess I lost track of who I had and hadn’t told.”

“Don’t worry about it dude. I- thanks for showing me. I’ll- I’ll let you get back to your shop stocking.” Impulse changed back into his human-looking self, and started to reassemble his outfit.

“No problem, Mumbo. Thanks for stopping by.”

“Yeah- yeah. Thanks, Impulse. See you later, dude.”

“Seeya.”

And with that, Mumbo left to go sit in his van and process that another one of his friends had been not human this whole time without him ever knowing.