Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’s raining. 

Water splashes against the pavement with loud pitter patters, leaving large rain puddles in its wake. Cars drive through the puddles as the occasional pedestrian avoids them. 

It’s pitch black outside. It’s late.

The only source of light comes from street lamps that line the roads as people walk along. Stores are closed by this time, with the exception of those that stay open twenty four seven. Hardly anyone is out this late at night, as most are tucked inside their beds and asleep. 

However there are a few people awake at this time. Overnight workers like doctors and nurses, even cashiers at those convenience stores. Or, in the case of a certain someone, the town’s very own mayor. 

Yes, Aqua Town’s beloved mayor is up quite late tonight. He got rather caught up in his work, but that usually happens with him. 

There’s a reason why he’s been mayor for so long after all!

His work is very important, and he has a duty to keep his people happy. And Scar takes his duty very seriously. He works on the town’s infrastructure, makes clean roads and cleans up the fungus that’s been growing around the area. He institutes new policies and listens to what the good people of Aqua Town want and need. 

The people love him, and their approval of him is his number one priority. 

Which is why he was at the office so late today! He had quite a few meetings with some fine gentlemen, and he and his ever faithful PR manager had a pleasant conversation. They ran a little overboard and poor Bdubs was pushing him to go home. 

And of course it led Scar to forgetting his umbrella. Surely Bdubs will scold him about that tomorrow, but for now, Scar focuses on getting home. He takes a casual stroll throughout his town, hands in his pockets and a whistled tune on his lips. 

Rain drops on him, but it does little to sour his mood. Despite having to do a bit of walking in the rain, he’s feeling rather upbeat. It’s been a good progressive day, quite productive!

Not even a little bit of rain can get his mood down, in fact, he enjoys the walk! He even lets himself take a moment to spread his arms out and enjoy the water hitting his face. 

Sure, his coat may be a little heavy on him because of the rain but there’s nothing wrong with that! He’ll be home in no time! 

It’s almost laughable, how relaxed Scar seems while being out so late at night. Most would not be so carefree while walking alone in the darkness. Sure, there are street lamps that provide a bit of safety from the night, they offer some kind of protection against the shadows that haunt the pitch black. 

But paranoia is fear’s best friend, and no one is a stranger to fear. Walking alone late at night only amplifies that fear, opens the door for paranoia to creep in and make a home inside your head. It plays tricks on you, makes you think you see figures moving within the darkness and it makes it’s personal goal to visit your heart and make it pump faster with terror. Paranoia infests and sticks to you like a parasite, invades your ears and plants little sounds that are either someone’s footsteps or the sound of creaking metal. Fear is an old friend, while paranoia is an old lover who refuses to leave. 

And for Scar? Well, neither emotions are strangers to him, but he would consider them acquaintances at best. In Aqua Town, he is completely safe from whatever beasts decide to lurk in the farthest corners of the deep. Perhaps it’s because he’s the mayor, but honestly that would only make him more of a target. 

Or… maybe it is more accurate to say that Scar is not afraid of the dark because he thrives in it. Scar lives in it daily, he’s in control of it. He bends the darkness to his will and his mere presence is enough to make those hidden in the shadows cower. To Scar, the darkness is not something to be feared. It is an opportunity. 

Scar’s existence in the darkness screams power, and he hardly has to lift a finger. Those living in the underground know just how powerful of a person their mayor is, it’s how he got into the position he’s in now after all. 

So yes, Scar walks alone in the dark without fear. The dark will not harm him. 

(It’s a little ironic, how crime rates in Aqua Town are low. The above ground crime anyways. And to think, the people’s mayor, the ring leader of their underground crime is the one to thank for it all.) 

He continues his whistling, hands shoved into the pockets of his coat. He wears what looks like a nonchalant smile on his face to the average person. However, he is fully attentive, aware of his surroundings. 

He has good reason to be, especially when someone has been following him. Scar has no reason to fear the nighttime, not at all. But that doesn’t mean that people won’t try to pull a fast one on him. And it seems someone has decided to try tonight. 

He’s about to take a step forward when he feels something press against his back, and a presence behind him. “Do as I say and you won’t have to get hurt.” It’s a man, though he seems to be at least a foot or so shorter than him. As for whatever is being held to his back, Scar can assume it’s some kind of weapon. A gun? No, it doesn’t feel big enough to be a gun. A smaller weapon then, perhaps a knife? 

Yes, he can work with this. 

Instead of responding to him, Scar goes to take a step forward with his right foot, lifting it off the ground. In one fluid motion he pivots on his left, turning around to face his attacker. As soon as he’s facing him, he plants his foot on the ground and takes a step forward. His left hand slips out from his pocket and he grabs the blade. It’s dull but just sharp enough to leave a thin cut in his skin. He holds it, going for a handshake. 

There’s three inches of space between them, maybe less. Scar smiles, chuckling, “I didn’t realize it was rob the mayor day! I would’ve left something valuable in my pocket for ya!” 

The attacker looks taken aback by his reaction, eyes wide and mouth open with shock. He’s clearly caught off guard, and Scar finds it most amusing. He takes a moment to inspect the stranger’s clothes. 

A raggedy red sweater, covered in dirt and littered with a few holes here and there. His hair is matted, face covered in grime. There’s some bruising as well, and Scar can see some bandages peeking out of his clothes. His pants are in a similar state, and honestly it seems as if he had gotten the clothes from the dumpster. 

Huh. 

And then the man seems to collect himself after a moment and narrows his eyes at him, quickly glancing around before grabbing Scar and pulling him into a nearby alley. 

Scar lets him do as he pleases, knowing he can easily take control of the situation should he need to. He’s already proven how easy it is for him to do so. 

He’s shoved against the rather uncomfortable concrete wall of some building, and the knife is pointed at his throat now. 

His attacker glowers at him, eyes shining an angry red. But there’s something else in that stare, Scar sees it easily. His eyes are angry, yes, but there’s also a hint of neglected pain there as well. His eyes are burning with an emotion that Scar is very familiar with. 

Call it morbid curiosity, but he wants to see how this will play out. There's an idea forming in his mind, one that entirely impulsive, but a few impulsive ideas here and there never hurt!

“If you move I’ll kill you.” The knife is pressed harder on his throat. “Empty your pockets, whatever you have on you.” 

Scar gives a little laugh, “Oh oh, pointy knife and very bold demands! I like your style! Rest assured, I don’t plan on moving a single inch!” he says. “Though, I can’t exactly empty my pockets with your knife on my throat like that.” 

The man furrows his brows for a moment, looking at Scar with suspicion. After a moment of internal debate, he steps back. Scar grins and as soon as he can comfortably breathe again, he starts to do exactly as the other said, pulling things out of his pockets. 

He doesn’t see it, but the shorter man is frozen with absolute shock as he watches Scar remove empty whatever’s inside his pockets. 

And when Scar looks up at him, he laughs at his expression. “What? Would you like my watch as well?” he hums. 

The man snaps himself out of his daze and shakes his head, “Just— stop talking! Gosh, please stop talking! What is wrong with you?!” His face scrunches up with distress as he looks at Scar’s wallet on the ground. 

“Hm? Well, some would say a lot but I don’t think that’s quite the case,” Scar answers, and the attacker groans in response. 

“Ugh, forget it! I’ll just steal from someone else!” he exclaims, stepping away. 

“Steal? Oh you’ll hardly get anywhere like that. Let me see that,” Scar plucks the knife from the man’s hands and just like that the power in the air shifts. With a scarily fast speed, Scar has the knife pressed to the other’s throat. He’s pressed his front against the wall, his free hand gripping both of the shorter’s, holding them against his back. 

“You’re going for stealth, right? This’ll help you with blunt force but that’s going to leave far too much evidence,” he says, as he angles the knife differently. 

The man squirms in his grasp, clearly trying to escape him. “Let me go!” he snarls. 

“Oh no, I’m not done with you yet,” Scar hums, giving him a cheerful smile. “You were extremely bold, attacking the mayor himself for some pocket money. I have to commend you honestly, it was a very good attempt!” he exclaims. Scar then leans in close to his ear, “But it was stupid.” His voice drops for a moment, gravelly and dark. 

He feels the other freeze in his grasp. 

“However!” The cheerful octave returns and he pulls back, “I’m a very kind mayor! And oh, do I have an offer you simply can’t say no to!”

The attacker continues to struggle in his grasp, trying to break free, “Give me one good reason why I should listen to you and not just kill you right here,” he demands. Ah, still putting up that brave front. 

Scar hums, “Because I know what you want most. Vengeance.” He saw it in his eyes, read it in his facial expression. He’d be a fool not to recognize it, especially when he’s had that very same look in his eyes before. It isn't every day you see someone like that in his town. “And besides, you’re not escaping my grip unless I want you to,” he adds, chuckling. 

His movements stop. Seems like he hit the nail right on the head. Scar pulls back, releasing the man. He turns to face him, rubbing at his wrists. “...I’m listening,” he says, and Scar grins. 

He hands the knife back to him, “I’m not your target, oh no no I know that. And I’m sure you think I’m easy prey! That would be your downfall if I didn’t see potential in you.”

The man takes it, crossing his arms. He raises a brow at him. “How do I know, huh? You don’t exactly scream ‘intimidating’.”

Chuckling, Scar smiles at him. “I don’t have to scream it. Better to be unassuming than to be a walking target, don’t you think?” 

He gets a huff in response. 

“Anyways, about my deal! You’ve got some interesting skills there, I’d like to refine them. And I’ve been needing some personal security soooo, what do you say?” Scar makes his offer and he watches the emotions flicker across the other’s face. 

“You’ve only just met me, and you want me as your security?” he asks, disbelief written all over his face. “What’s your goal here?” He sounds suspicious of him, and Scar can’t blame the guy. 

He’d probably be suspicious too, had their positions been reversed. “Well, dear attacker of mine, actually— Do you have a name?” 

The man narrows his eyes, as if hesitating. “...Grian.” 

“Grian,” Scar tests the name out on his tongue. He nods in approval, “Well, Grian, call it a morbid curiosity of sorts. You’re interesting! There's something about you that intrigues me, there's a flame that burns in your eyes! I'd like to see it erupt into a blazing inferno." He grins. "Besides, it's a better alternative to getting arrested for attacking Aqua Town's mayor, eh?" He holds his hand out to him, paired with a smile.

Grian looks at him, his hand, and then meets his eyes again. He hesitates. “How do I know this isn’t just a ploy to get me to lower my guard?” He asks. “You realize how suspicious you sound, right? I mean, no one is ever entirely honest right off the bat. They usually have something hidden up their sleeves. So what's up yours?” 

Scar grins, and he finds that he’s already loving this idea. He looks at this stranger in front of him, someone burning uncontrollably and so clearly needing an output. He looks at Grian and finds himself reminded of a bird, one with ruffled feathers too messy to fly. Yes, that'll do nicely. “Well, songbird,” Grian lets out a weird noise at the pet name, “there really isn’t any way to prove it to you right now besides word of tongue. Besides, maybe I truly have nothing to hide," he answers. As he speaks, he starts to slip off his rain soaked coat, moving to put it over Grian’s shoulders. “But what I can promise is a warm shower and an extremely comfortable bed.”

Grian stares at him for a few more minutes, as if trying to discern something in his expression. Scar keeps his face as open as he can, wanting Grian to accept his deal. 

And when he finds whatever it is that he’s looking for, he seems to sigh, shoulders sagging. “Fine. I'm at least taking the offer to shower.”

Scar grins at him, “Perfect! Let me lead the way home then!”

Chapter Text

“Welcome to my humble abode!” Scar exclaims as he steps into his home. Grian stands at the front entrance of the home where two long Greek inspired pillars stand tall, making a little entrance way. On either side of the entryway are three large windows on the walls of the building, allowing for Grian to see the inside of the building before even stepping inside. 

The inside of Scar’s home is large and expansive, Grian can see at least five different things hanging from the ceiling. 

He takes a step back from the entrance, trying to get a larger view of the building. He blanches, Scar thinks this is humble? Grian has never seen such a big building as this one, let alone lived in one! 

His shock must be shown all over his face because he hears Scar laugh, “You should probably shut that mouth of yours or else you’ll catch flies!” Grian immediately shuts his mouth, slowly looking over to him with a small glare. He hadn’t even realized that it dropped, that’s embarrassing. Scar has an amused expression on his face, eyes light with laughter. He gestures for Grian to step inside, “Come on! I promise it’s not gonna bite you!” 

“Of course it’s not, it’s a building,” Grian huffs in response, following after him. He steps into the house, and if he was amazed by the outside, the inside is on a completely different level. It’s all high ceilings and tall walls, long hallways, and there’s so many lights all around. It’s a little overwhelming, honestly. He’s almost worried about getting lost in here. He takes care in keeping his mouth tightly shut, as to not embarrass himself a second time. 

A few people dressed in suits or black and white dresses appear as they step inside. Butlers and maids, Grian’s mind supplies. “Welcome home, Mr. Mayor.” They bow. 

“Oh, hello there!” Scar greets them warmly, offering a charming smile. “Waiting for me as always I see,” he chuckles, “This here is Grian, he’ll be staying with me for a bit so make sure to treat him kindly! Oh, and give him the same treatment you do for me, he’s my very important guest!” 

The people in front of them nod, “Great! Oh oh!” Scar looks to one of the nicely dressed people, “Would you mind bringing the first aid kit to my quarters?” 

Grian is left to stand in shock as Scar speaks to them. He’s… considered a guest? After trying to kill the man? Surely he’s joking, Grian doesn’t deserve that kind of treatment. Scar hardly knows him, and yet he’s making all of these commands for Grian, telling these people to give him the same treatment as the mayor himself? Is this some sort of test? A prank? He knows that this strange man had told him he had nothing to hide, but still. A part of Grian doesn't trust it. 

And he's also just... weird. Very weird. 

“Helloooooo? Earth to Griannnn?” Scar drawls, and Grian blinks at him. They’re alone now in the foyer, and Scar is directly in front of him. When their eyes meet, he smiles, “Oh, there you are! Thought we lost you for a second,” he chuckles, stepping back from him. “Come on.” Scar starts walking, and Grian hurries to follow after him. 

Scar talks, he talks a lot, Grian quickly learns. He likes to prattle on about whatever it is that he wants to talk about. And as they walk through the long corridors, Scar starts talking about the mansion, tells Grian about how many different rooms are in the building (who in the world needs seventy two rooms?!), or how many floors the place has ( three floors?!), or even how a few close friends of his tend to crash at his house. He points out a few rooms to Grian as they walk along, and honestly it’s so much information that it makes Grian’s head spin. 

Honestly, how can anyone live like this? 

They reach what Scar calls the foyer, and it’s a giant room with a lot of open space. A grand staircase is in the middle of the area, branching off into two separate staircases on either side of it. There’s red carpets laying on the staircases, and Grian is afraid to walk on them. They're definitely going to get dirty, considering both Grian and Scar were out in the pouring rain.

Yet Scar starts to make his way up the case without any issue, and when he sees that Grian isn’t following him he turns back to him, “Something the matter?” he asks, concern written on his face. It makes Grian pause, the concern catches him off guard. It’s genuine concern, not fabricated or mocking. When was the last time someone looked at him like that? Probably not since she… 

“The.. the rug,” Grian answers, and he surprises himself with the honest answer. He could’ve just shrugged Scar’s question off and moved on, but he’s taking the time to answer it. This man is so odd. And clearly he’s having odd effects on Grian as well. “Won’t it get dirty if I step on it?”

Scar blinks at him, staring at him for a beat or so before he breaks into giggles. “It’s just a carpet, G-Man!” he exclaims, and somehow Grian has acquired a second name tonight. “Can I call you G-Man? Aw, what’s it matter!” Scar walks back down the stairs until he’s standing on the last step, adding a few inches to his height. He towers over Grian, in his rain soaked white button up and yellow and black striped pants. His bowtie has been undone, hanging around the collar of his shirt instead. 

The purple jacket on Grian’s shoulders feels heavier as he sees how wet Scar’s clothes are. He doesn’t like the sight of purple on his body. Yet the jacket only makes his skin crawl, rather than creating that large pit in his stomach like the color normally does. Maybe it’s because it’s a lighter color. 

“I don’t give two hoots about this ol’ carpet here! Go on and dirty it up, it’ll be washed anyway,” Scar hums, as he extends a hand out to Grian. “Come on upstairs! That’s where the bathroom you’ll be using is.” He smiles, and his smile is so… open. It’s a smile directed at Grian, and it’s soft.  

There’s no scorn, or agitation, exasperation, or even anger. 

Huh. 

Grian squints at him as he takes his hand and lets Scar pull him up to his level on the stairs. Scar lets go of his hand but not before brushing a kiss against his knuckles and offering Grian a wink. He turns around and continues to lead the way, and Grian stares with wide eyes. What was that? 

Never mind it, he better hurry if he doesn’t want to lose Scar in this maze of a home! He swiftly refocuses and follows Scar up the stairs. Every step he takes creates a buzzing panic in the back of his mind. This could be a test, he tells himself. Scar could be waiting for Grian to mess up, could be trying to lead him into a false sense of security. It wouldn’t be the first time, and it certainly won’t be the last. 

No one does something out of the kindness of their heart. Everyone has some kind of motive, some hidden agenda. Scar has an ulterior motive here, he’s certain of it. After all, why else would he get the guy who held a knife to his throat to join his security? Is he planning on getting Grian back for the attempted robbery by playing the long game? He had mentioned being mayor, right? Then surely Scar is just waiting for the proper opportunity to get him in trouble. 

Could it be that this is just a long sadistic ploy to punish Grian for holding a knife to the mayor’s throat? 

No matter the reason, Grian should stay on guard. He can’t be blindsided again, he can’t afford to find himself trapped underneath someone’s thumb a second time. He does not care what kind of promises Scar wants to charm him into believing, he refuses to. 

“Here we are!” Scar’s voice snaps Grian from his thoughts, and he realizes that they’re in front of a white door. Scar reaches for the door knob and Grian feels a spike of anxiety, a phantom feeling along his back. The knob twists and the door swings open, unveiling a large room. Red curtains hang along the walls, and the floor is made of pristine white marble. There’s a giant bed tucked into the corner of the room, and on the other corner is a platform raised off of the ground. A couch rests on the platform, a table with empty glasses in front of it. 

A few paintings hang on the walls, and fluorescent lights shine in the ceiling overhead. There’s a carpet on the ground in the middle of the room, and a chaise not too far from it. Scar gestures for Grian to enter first and he hesitates before stepping inside. Scar follows after him, spotting the first aid kit resting on the bed sheets. He tugs the bowtie from his neck, draping it on the chaise while Grian steps around the room, pointedly avoiding stepping on the carpet. It might have been alright to walk on the stairs, but the carpet in here could be a completely different story. 

“Like it?” Scar asks as Grian is walking around. “This amayzin’ room is my bedroom,” he says, and Grian whips around to stare at him as if he has three heads. 

“Are you stupid?” The words slip from Grian’s mouth before he can stop them. “I mean, really, I held a knife to your throat and threatened you! And you bring me into your home, your bedroom! Honestly, where are your self preservation skills?!” He doesn’t mean to explode, really. But Grian has only known Scar for a few hours and this man is so weird. He’s unlike anyone he’s ever met before. It makes him so frustrated! He doesn't know how he's supposed to act!

Where is the mistrust? The hesitance? The anger? 

And all Scar does in response is laugh. “You’re really concerned about this, huh?” he says, walking over to Grian. Grian, in turn, swallows thickly, taking a few steps back as he approaches. Scar’s voice drops, and that charming smile remains on his face. The air in the room is suddenly stifling, thick with tension. Even Grian’s dull blade could have cut it. Grian walks back until he no longer can, legs hitting the edge of Scar’s bed. He manages to stop himself from falling, and Scar stops right in front of him. 

“My self preservation skills are just fine, believe me. If you were actually a threat you would have been taken care off as soon as you pulled me into that alley. Now.” Scar reaches out for him. 

Grian’s heart picks up, panic running through him. Oh shit oh shit oh shit, this is where he’s gone and fucked up, huh? This is where Scar’s true colors are going to show and he’s going to die which is a shame because he's been surviving for so long without them and he was doing so well and--

He feels hands tugging at the jacket around his shoulders, and Grian’s breath hitches. “While I most certainly appreciate your concern, songbird, rest assured, I’m completely safe!” Scar exclaims, as his hands slips the purple jacket off of him. Grian watches, dumbfounded by the sudden mood shift. The jacket slips from his shoulders and Scar hums, sounding pleased. He drops it on the bed beside Grian, “As I said, I wasn’t really your target. You would’ve tried to rob any poor guy walking alone! In this town? That’s a silly move to make, but you better thank your lucky stars it was me! Some people aren’t as forgiving or as understandable as I am.” 

Scar takes a step back, grabbing Grian by the arm and dragging him over to another door inside the room. “With that out of the way, let’s get you a shower!” He opens the door and pushes Grian inside. “I’ll leave you a spare set of clothes! Have fun!” The door shuts behind him. 

Grian is left alone in this grand bathroom, where the tub sits on the ground, and a shower is next to it. There’s… a lot of space in here, which is something he isn’t used to. His reflection catches his eye, and he finds that a large part of the wall is a mirror. He stares at himself inside the reflection, seeing just how dirty and unkept he looks. His sweater is so dirty, the edges of his sleeves are frayed and littered with holes, he even has little spaces to poke his thumbs through. 

Honestly he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He’s used to washing with others, as it was always on some kind of schedule. Even that aspect of his life was controlled. Grian’s face contorts as he grits his teeth, expression twisting with anger. 

The past twenty four hours have been one thing after another. But he can focus on the fact that he's still free, allowed to live however he'd like. He doesn’t know what Scar’s intentions here are, he has no clue. Yet this is a rare chance being offered to him on a silver platter! A warm bed rather than the cold concrete ground. While he may not know what Scar has up his sleeve, he’d be a fool to not take advantage of the opportunity offered to him. 

Perhaps he could use the resources that Scar offers him, take whatever he can get, and when it’s safe, he can make a break for it. Grian nods to himself, a solid plan. He may be out for revenge but his first priority is survival. The only thing Scar offered him was survival, and Grian is not going to take one without the other. At least by relying on himself, his chances of survival and revenge are increased. 

Relying on other people is what got him into this mess. But for now, it’s what he has to do. 

Sighing, Grian looks over to the shower and turns it on. There are two knobs on the shower wall, labeled ‘hot’ and ‘cold’. He turns them on, adjusts them until they’re at a comfortable temperature. When that’s done, he steps back and pulls his jumper over his head. He sets it down on the countertop of the sink, eyeing it for a moment. Scar had mentioned new clothes, what will he do with these? 

Perhaps… he could ask to keep the jumper? 

He shakes his head at the idea. Don’t give yourself more of a reason to be indebted to him. He tells himself as he shimmies out of his pants and boxers. He gets a good look at his torso, seeing all of the bruising along his skin. He winces at the sight of a few cuts and scrapes here and there. Those’ll sting in the shower. His lip is split, there’s a few cuts on his face. Ah, there’s also a bit of dried blood in his hair. They made a proper mess of him, huh? 

Avoiding looking back in the mirror, Grian steps into the shower and shuts the shower door behind him. He lets the spray of the water hit him, and the warm water relaxes his muscles. He exhales gently, turning his front away from the spray of water to where the door to the bathroom is. 

He does not turn his back to it. 

Grian steps out of the bathroom dressed in the clothes that Scar lends to him. It’s a simple white button up shirt and pants, and the shirt is a little big on him, but he makes do. Scar is sitting on the bed, dressed in new clothes, a set of red and white striped pajamas. The first aid kit is open in front of him, and he lifts his head up as Grian opens the door. 

Scar smiles at him, “Why hello! I see you finally emerge from the shower!” he teases, and Grian fights down the urge to panic. Instead, he holds his old clothes in his hands and gestures to them. “You can put those over on the chaise over there. I’ll have one of the maids wash them tomorrow for you,” he says, and Grian nods. 

He sets the clothes on the chaise, turning back to face Scar. He stands there almost awkwardly, not quite sure what to do next. Scar gestures for him to sit on the chaise, and Grian notices a bandage on his hand. 

Ah, the knife had cut him then. 

Apprehensive, Grian sits down and Scar gets up. “I happened to notice earlier that you’ve got some cuts we should take care of. It’s bad to leave them alone you know!” Scar chimes, pointing to his own forehead as he walks over to him with the first aid kit. He pulls a table over to where they are, setting it down. 

“I can do it myself,” Grian tells him, and there’s no way he’s going to be easy with this. He reaches for the kit, but Scar gently swats at his hand. 

“Hmmm, nope! While I don’t doubt your capabilities songbird, if I do it then we avoid wasting any bandages!” Scar explains. “Plus, I have plenty of experience handling bandaging people up!” 

Grian snorts, “You mean yourself?” 

Scar laughs, “Something like that.” His voice softens as he speaks, and there’s a fond look in his eyes. “Now! Sit still, I’m going to disinfect that wound on your forehead. It’ll sting.” He grabs something from the kit, and he leaves Grian no room to argue. 

A silence stretches between them as Scar cleans the wound on his forehead, broken by Grian’s quiet hisses every now and then. He clenches his fists in his lap, refusing to let out a single sound. 

“What’s your story, huh?” Grian finds himself asking suddenly, curiosity getting the better of him. 

Scar pulls back for a moment, looking inquisitive. He leans in to tilt Grian’s chin up, looking for something. “‘Story’ hm? What do you think it is? Weave it for me.” Is his answer, and Grian hums softly, trying to ignore the way he shivers at the contact. 

Grian instead raises a brow, squinting at him, “Well, you’re certainly the charming type. How you became mayor I don’t have the slightest of clues but I imagine you swindled your way into the position, into this kind of life, judging by our entire interaction. You put on a kind face yet there’s clearly something darker there. But one thing is for sure, you aren’t genuine, no one ever actually is,” Grian speaks. “You have no self preservation skills despite how much you try to convince me that you do. You could’ve killed me in that alley, but you didn’t. And I hardly doubt you’ve offered any of this to me out of the kindness of your heart. Though you’re certainly the curious type, I can see it in the way you look at me.” 

He sees it all in Scar’s gaze, the way his eyes are alight with curiosity, sparkle with interest. 

Brushing his thumb along Grian’s bottom lip, he hums. And then it’s gone, and Scar is pulling back from him. “Now, how hard was that?” He goes back to the first aid to grab some bandages. “You’ve just proved why I’ve offered you a job. With just a little bit of thinking you’ve given me a painting of myself in your eyes. You’ve told me how you view the world and other people in it. Beautiful work by the way, thank you for that lovely display.” 

He unwraps one of the bandages, moving to stand in front of Grian, “Though I am curious, you believe I can’t be genuine? That's twice now that you've said it, and don’t get me wrong, it’s a smart assumption, but I have to ask who made you think that way, hm?” he asks, as he brushes Grian’s bangs back with careful fingers. 

Grian huffs in return, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He almost hates how a pleasant chill runs down his spine at the praise. “It’s not a matter of ‘who’, mate,” he says. “Who implies that it was one single person.” 

Scar falls silent for a moment as he works on placing butterfly bandages on the wound on Grian’s head. “And is that where you get that mouth of yours? Or is that by your own design?” 

Grian barks a laugh in reply, almost grinning proudly at him. “Oh no, it was despised. There were plenty of attempts to silence it.” Silence me, hangs in the air, unsaid. “This is all me, completely,” he says, and it’s true. It’s probably the only thing of himself that he has right now. 

They fall into silence again as Scar continues to place bandages along the injury, gently brushing the tabs of the bandages against his skin so that they stick there. 

Grian’s thoughts wander as he sits there, lips tugged into a thin line. “Do you do it often?” He blurts out a second question as Scar finishes the bandages. “Get involved in whatever or whoever’s caught your eye on a whim?” 

Scar goes back over to the first aid kit, collecting the scraps of the bandages and putting them inside the box before closing it. “Well, it depends on which side of me you’re speaking about! Mayor Scar gets involved in everything, satisfying the people means a happy population!” he singsongs with that cheerful smile of his. And then his eyes darken, “But I, on the other hand, only get involved when I meet someone like you, pretty bird.” 

“Because you’re curious about me,” Grian states, and his gaze narrows as he says this, ignoring the way his cheeks feel warm. 

“Yes, exactly.” Scar nods, “You have a fire in your eyes and I want to know where it comes from, why it burns.” The response startles Grian. 

Scar… wants to know about him? He’s curious enough about him that he’s offered Grian a chance to be learned about. And for a moment, Grian really reads Scar. He sees that curiosity there, yes. But he sees kindness in his eyes. It’s real, not an ounce of fabrication there. Scar isn’t just forcing himself either. It's almost like Scar has left a door open for him, one that Grian very hesitantly steps into. 

The last person who ever looked at him like that was her.

And suddenly Grian finds himself wanting to bask in that kindness, to repay whatever kind of debt he’s gotten himself into. 

He takes a breath, “Give me one reason,” Grian starts, “one reason to follow you.” His voice is soft, shaky. It almost sounds like he’s pleading but that is something Grian will never do. He doesn’t plead. 

Scar pouts, “Does that mean you don’t want to be employed to me?”

“Just — answer the question!” Grian snaps at him.

“How about two?” Scar asks, as he moves to sit beside Grian. There's something soft in his gaze, as if he were approaching a wounded animal. “I see potential in you. So much potential that I don’t think you even see it,” he starts, and that kind gaze never leaves Grian. “And if you give me the opportunity…” He trails off as his hand reaches up to cup Grian’s face. Grian flinches slightly as Scar’s thumb strokes along his cheek bone. The touch is gentle, kind even. “I can give you more than anyone could ever take.” 

It’s enough. It’s so much. More than anyone has ever offered him before. It cracks his resolve, and sways him. How could he possibly say no to a deal like that?

Grian gives in. “…Alright," he murmurs, slowly nodding. “I.. Okay. Warm shower aside, consider me your guard.” He'll use whatever resources Scar can offer him (maybe he'll take a crack at trying to understand the man too, while he's at it), and when he has what he needs, he'll leave. 

Scar grins.