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“Grian? Can I let go for a moment? I want to make sure you’re okay,” Stress asked gently.
Grian tightened his arms around her and she did the same back.
“It’s okay, love, I’ve got you,” she reassured him.
“Sorry,” he mumbled.
“Don’t be, it’s okay,” she said. “But can I please take care of those scratches?”
Grian took a deep breath before nodding.
Stress pulled away, moving her hands to hold his arms, not wanting to fully let go yet.
“Okay?” she asked, and he nodded again.
She peered behind him at his wings, looking at the deep scratches, before letting go of his arms in favor of using one hand to hold one of his and the other to move his shirt out of the way to get a look at the scratches on his chest.
Deciding that it wasn’t an immediate issue and that it would be easier to do this somewhere other than the middle of the woods, she looked back up at his face and told him just that.
“This can wait long enough to get somewhere else. It’s bad, but not bleeding super heavily, at least not anymore, somehow,” she told him. “My base is close, would it be okay if I took you there?”
“Yeah,” he said, tightening his hold on her hand.
She stood up, helping him to stand as well.
“C’mon,” she said.
Grian was silent the whole walk to her base, but Stress spoke. She didn’t prefer silence right then, and it was easy enough to speak.
When they entered her base, she led him straight over to her bed. When she tried to get him to lie down in it, he protested.
“Blood, dirty,” he said, gesturing to himself with his free hand.
“It’s okay, love. I know. It’s just sheets, I can change them. Right now, I just want you to lie down so I can work on those scratches. Please?”
He sighed, sitting down. After she gave him a stern look, he laid down.
“I’m gonna grab a few things, okay Grian?” Stress said. “I’ll be right back. Less than a minute.”
Before he could protest too much she pulled away, walking over to her storage and pulling out a familiar shulker, quickly checking the contents, and then walking back over.
Grian tried to tune out the next few minutes, while Stress cleaned off the cuts on his chest and stomach, long, deep slices from the rabbit’s claws. It hurt, but it had to be done.
“Okay, there, done with those,” she said. “Now, potion.”
She gently poured some of the potion over the wounds and Grian hissed in pain, tensing.
“That’s gonna scar,” Stress said softly as she watched the potion begin to heal it. It was apparent watching it that it wouldn’t heal perfectly. Sometimes potions left scars, and there wasn’t much anyone could do about it.
“Of course it is,” he muttered, annoyed.
“Wing next, love,” she told him, and he groaned, but complied, extending his hurt wing.
She cleaned the cuts there too, and these hurt even more. Wings were sensitive, and he wished he’d been able to shield them from that stupid rabbit. He tried to tug his wing away on instinct, but Stress held on to it as she cleaned.
Before she poured the potion, she used her free hand to thread her fingers through his feathers, gently combing through them in a way she knew was soothing. She quickly dumped the potion onto his wing before setting the bottle down and grabbing his wing to hold it steady once again.
Grian whimpered, and Stress spoke to him softly as she continued to comb through his feathers.
“It’ll be done soon, almost done. It’ll feel better in a minute, I promise,” she whispered.
After what couldn’t have been more than a minute or two but felt like much longer, she finally felt his wing start to relax, and hear him let out a long breath of relief.
“Better?” she asked.
“Yeah. Thank you,” he replied, pulling his wing back in.
Stress sat down on the edge of the bed and took Grian’s hand.
“Do you wanna talk about what happened?” she asked. “I’m not gonna make you, but I’d like it if you would.
Grian pushed himself up to sit, and with his free arm pulled his knees to his chest and pressed his face into them. He kept his other hand in Stress’ and tightened his grip. He should talk about it, she was right and he knew it.
“It’s… a lot,” he whispered, and Stress squeezed his hand back comfortingly. “It was the rabbit.”
Stress nodded, even though Grian wasn’t looking at her. That’s what she’d thought had caused it, though she still didn’t know why.
“Back in high school, I was on a… not so great server,” he started. “It uh. I think you may know it, I know news of it made it to the server hub a few times. The YHS server.”
“Oh Grian…” she said softly.
She had heard of it. It was one of the few servers that functioned as hardcore, yet also hosted mostly school-age children. Most servers like that had at least a few respawns set up, since kids tended to be reckless. YHS was infamous for not only being hardcore, but allowing modded weapons like guns, and some of the stories that came from it were not for the faint of heart.
“Yeah, and crazily enough, that’s not even the craziest server experience I’ve had. But that- I’m definitely not ready to talk about that, yet.”
There was more? Of course there was more. It was Grian, he could never catch a break.
“But um, on YHS. There was this other kid. Thought he was my friend, at first, but… no. He wasn’t. He was bad. Sam, was his name. He had white bunny ears.”
He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath before continuing.
“He hurt me, and our other friends. He killed one of them. Murdered them. He… I can’t, I can’t talk about it-”
“Hey, love, hey. Look at me,” Stress said, reaching up to lift his face with her free hand. “You’re safe, Grian.”
“I don’t want to-”
“You don’t have to. You don’t need to tell me anymore if you don’t want to. It’s okay. You’re okay.”
“I hate him, I hate him so much, ” Grian said vehemently. “He ruined so many things.”
Stress wanted to say something, but she wasn’t really sure what to say. Luckily, Grian spoke again after a few moments.
“Can I have a hug?” he whispered, looking away from her.
“Of course,” she said. “C’mere.”
He let go of his knees, and Stress leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him once again, and let him curl into her, tucking his head under her chin. His wings wrapped around them, and it was a little awkward with how he was curled up, but that was okay.
“Thank you,” he said. “For saving me. And patching me up,” he told her.
“Of course.” She tightened her arms around him, pulling him closer. “I’m just glad I was here to help.”
“I’m… I’m really glad, too.”