Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Scar clambered down the side of the cave opening after Pearl who seemingly disappeared. He called after her in a playful manner, fully expecting her to be down there and for their fight to continue.

“Pearl? I’m coming for you,” he said with confusion creeping into his voice at the eerily silent cave mouth. How had she completely disappeared? Maybe she planned to gear up after telling Scar to look behind him at the zombie lumbering towards him; that was when she disappeared after all.

“She’s dead Scar.” A disembodied voice whispered in his ear, “You won.” He whipped his head around at that statement. What did it mean he won? Had he really killed Pearl? The previously forgotten zombie finally caught up with him and landed hits as the cold dread of isolation crawled through his body.

“How’d the guy with no friends win?” he spoke wistfully, staring at his hands that were soaked in blood he wasn’t sure was real or not. Scar finally looked up as he felt his health depleting dangerously low and he hazily stabbed his sword through the zombie's midsection. He laughed and looked up to the sky, “no really, how did the guy with no friends win?” His laughter died off with a suppressed sob as a few tears rolled down his cheeks.

Now all that was left to do was to hand in his task. He’d done it. He’d won secret life. Scar slowly towered out of the cave and walked over to the secret keeper. Everything was a blur, the only feeling Scar could grasp was the overwhelming feeling of loneliness. He could feel the eyes on the back of his neck that made anxiety swarm in his stomach but even that feeling wasn’t powerful enough to beat the sheer isolation he felt. It was reminiscent of last life in a way. Last life? Oh god… he remembered it all now, every betrayal, every death, every kill, every ally, every enemy, every doomed friendship; the blood, the tears, the sand, the dirt, the rocks, the lava, but the most overwhelming of them all, the pain. The pain of death and of killing, the pain of betrayal and of betraying, the pain of every single life game came crashing upon him in an insurmountable wave.

He staggered slightly as his steps wavered reaching the small campsite laid out in front of the secret keeper. The cold chill from Grian’s ghostly presence barely left his side during the trek and whether it was intentional or not, it did help keep Scar grounded. As he reached the ‘succeed’ button he started wringing his hands a nervous habit. This was going to be the end of the game and he was the winner. Would everything go back to normal once he was back on Hermitcraft or would it make daily life impossible being surrounded by the people who have no recollection of his horrible behaviours? Pearl and Grian would also remember everything but they would either help or hinder. Scar did just kill Pearl to win and Grian… well there was a decent amount of stuff there.

The button let off a small click as he hit it and stared blankly at the glow the Watcher symbol let off. He expected death. A quick and painless death that would land him back on the Hermitcraft server surrounded by those who were none the wiser. Only that didn’t happen. He felt the hum of regeneration as he gained five hearts and a new book was dropped at his feet.

“Why am I not dead? I’m supposed to be dead. I did it, I won, so why am I not dead?” He whipped around to face the cold lingering to his right, “Grian why am I not dead,” Scar pleaded. The book sat mockingly on the ground as tears gathered in his eyes. “I don’t need another task, please I just want to leave!”

Maybe the book held the answers he thought to attempt to quell the panic now rising in him. He gripped the shimmering book with a type of desperation he hadn’t felt before and wished he never would again. Opening the first page he was met with three simple words ‘Win Secret Life.’

“No no no no no I already did that, I’ve won, I'm alone please what is happening I just want to go back to Hermitcraft!!” he cried, dropping the book as his hands flew up to dig into his hair. Tears began collecting faster than he could wipe them away and he felt his body begin to shake. The desperation clawed at his being as he hit the button again hoping for a different outcome. This time without hesitation he opened the book and almost tore out the page as the same phrase was written at the top. He threw the book down and hit the button over and over and over again getting more hysterical each time he was met with the same taunting words.

Being so tunnel-visioned on the book, Scar forgot that each time he pressed the button he was gaining hearts. Five and a half hearts led to ten and a half hearts, led to twenty and a half hearts, led to thirty-five and a half hearts; and by the time Scar had collapsed on the stone ground he had forty-five and a half hearts to his name.

“Please why won't you just kill me,” he sobbed into his arms crossed over his knees. The air got colder as Grian moved closer to Scar; seemingly kneeling beside him. If anything the ghostly presence made him angrier. “Grian aren’t these your games?! Surely you can kill me, right? Please, I'm begging you Grian please kill me.” The word ‘again’ went unsaid but the implications sat thickly in the air between them. He moved his hands up to his hair as the panic once again began to set in and the tears flowed faster.

After a long period of Scar’s choked panic, Grian finally spoke, “You know I can’t do that Scar, I won’t kill you again. You have to do it yourself…”

Scar scoffed and turned his head to the sky. “How,” he said, phrasing it as more of a statement than a question, “I have almost fifty hearts… that’s not exactly painless is it.” A bitter smile accompanied by a joyless laugh crept out of Scar; it was so unlike his usual cheerful persona but the life games really do bring out the worst in people, don’t they?

He began to mentally assess his options for the quickest and least painful way to die. Drowning was a definite no-go, so was stabbing himself and letting any mob do it, all of those were way too slow for his liking. Even towering up and jumping off was questionable because he had no idea how high he needed to go to ensure he’d expend all forty-five and a half hearts. A shiver went down his spine just thinking about the possibility that he could calculate wrong and have to lie in agony for god knows how long.

“Lava?” Grian’s soft whisper broke off his train of thought. He sounded guilty. However, Scar couldn't find it in himself to care much about how Grian felt at this moment. He wasn’t the one who had to find the least painful way to drain forty-five and a half hearts. He wasn’t the one who had turned everybody against himself only to end up winning the game where not a single long-lasting friend was made.

He supposed lava might work. It wasn’t exactly a perfect plan; being essentially melted alive didn’t sound painless whatsoever but it did sound reasonably quick and efficient. At least with this option he didn’t have to worry about not dying, he just had to worry about the many seconds before dying.

Scar dug around in his inventory before finding what he was looking for, a lava bucket. He set it down on the ground and stepped back as it flowed outwards in all directions. The heat rose off the molten rock immediately and attacked all his senses yet he was completely mesmerised by it. Sucking in a deep breath he began to take off his armor and dump out his inventory. He threw it all in the slight dip in the ground beneath the secret keeper where their prizes were dispensed each time a successful task was redeemed. It was his way of mocking them he supposed. Giving them the prize of their winner's worldly possessions before he dunked himself into lava. A great big ‘fuck you,’ if you will.

Once his inventory was empty he turned to face the fully splayed-out bubbling substance that would be his demise. Everything was finally catching up with him and he felt so very exhausted. He just wanted to rest. Scar stepped closer to the lava, closed his eyes, breathed in, and turned to face the secret keeper.

“I succeeded my task.”

He fell backwards into the lava and before even touching it, his shirt singed. Just over nine whole seconds of agony that he’d never forget. And if Grian's ghost became corporeal for a split second with tears running down his face, Scar would believe it was just his eyes playing tricks on him.

---------

Scar lurched upright out of bed in Scarland. He was in the thick of a chest monster he’d created for his Adventure Land project which happened to be completely exposed. Panic rose in his throat as all he could think about were his final pain-filled moments on secret life. It felt as though he hadn’t left, his clothes left him uncomfortably hot as his skin burned with the phantom pains of burning alive. When he looked down at his hands all he saw was the orange substance slipping through his fingers.

He threw himself back in surprise and desperately tried to shake it off but it wouldn’t leave, if anything there was more of it with every passing second. His breathing was concerningly shallow and fast but with nothing to ground him it just got worse. He huddled up against a shulker box and hoped that maybe he would just disappear. Instead, he distantly heard the flapping of wings and the cold breeze they brought with them. That wasn’t right, lava wasn’t cold; it burned.

A foreign presence touched his shoulder and he jerked back immediately with a cry of pain. The touch burned. Everything was too hot. It was all too much. He just wanted to disappear.

Grian sat by a cowering Scar unsure of how to help his panicking friend. When he touched his shoulder he was uncomfortably hot, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out that Scar was experiencing phantom pains from his all too recent death. On top of that, his body was likely still recovering as well.

“Scar, you’re not there anymore. This is Hermitcraft and you’re in Scarland. Can you tell me what you’re feeling I want to help you,” Grian pleaded with the hyperventilating figure in front of him. How was he supposed to help Scar if he couldn’t use touch as a grounding technique?

Scar could barely hear Grian over the roaring and bubbling in his ears but vaguely understood what was being asked of him.

“H- hot- it’s so hot- and… hurts,” he managed to mutter out through short and sharp breaths. There was silence for a second while Grian thought before suddenly a cool breeze washed over Scar making him shiver at the much-needed relief.

Eventually, his breathing began evening out and the prickling sensation of heat wasn’t ever-present on his skin - It was definitely still there, just not as overwhelming as before. He distantly wondered if it would ever leave.

“Are… are you feeling better?” Grian spoke with hesitancy.

Instead of answering, Scar dove head-first into the avian's chest and tightly wound his arms around him. Grian was completely caught off guard so was frozen for a few seconds before returning the hug full force. And if both of them shed tears and muttered apologies, no one was there to know.

Chapter Text

After Scar's panic attack, Grian had taken him back to his elven tree starter base at his request. The vastness of Scarland was a bit too much to deal with. So that’s where Scar has been for the last few hours since Grian left. He was hesitant to leave but Scar convinced him that nothing would go wrong. He might’ve jinxed it.

He paced up and down the stairs running while his hand through his hair as a self-soothing gesture. Now that he finally had some downtime he was starting to unpack all the memories he had been so graciously gifted with following his win. Turns out a lot more happened in those games than Grian ever let on. Everything about them was making Scar second-guess friendships he’d had for years. The worst part about all the memories was that he found himself fully consumed by them; so much so that he’d forget where exactly he was. One moment he was in his starter base on Hermitcraft and the next he was back in the desert. That darn desert.

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The wind gently blew through his hair as he came back to his senses. With the moon reaching the middle of the sky, a seemingly calm darkness stretched over the Hermitcraft server in a way that was all too familiar. The height at which he was standing suddenly became apparent which probably attributed to the familiarity of looking at the sky from that angle. Although, the ground was significantly less grainy and spongy than he remembered.

The rustling of leaves barely even reached his ears; all he could hear were the tiny grains of rock, silica and shell fragments being blown against sandstone walls. The bark of the tree branch underneath his feet was replaced by the feeling of sand. His feet sunk slightly more with each movement. It felt familiar, it felt safe, it felt like home. But it also felt distant, it felt dangerous, it felt like a place he needed to escape from.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a brown, wooden coffin with a sign above it. He knew exactly what it said without even having to step closer. If anything it felt too final to acknowledge it so instead he turned his gaze upon the edge of the sandy cliff.

3rd life. That’s what this game had been called. The very first of its kind. Unknowingly the catalyst for endless pain and suffering.

Grian wins this one. He has to win this one. And Scar has to die for that to happen. He inched closer to the edge of the cliff, sending grains of sand tumbling down into the murky darkness. In fact, when he looked over the edge the ground wasn’t easily identifiable. It seemed to swirl and change as though not being entirely real. Now and then the sand seemed to part, giving way to a dark-coloured tree branch. He didn’t think much of it; they had trees in the desert albeit very dead ones but he chalked it down to a trick of the dim moonlight.

What had he come out here for again? Right, that was it.

“It’s okay Grian, you have to win.”

As soon as he stepped off the cliff his vision cleared and leaves were suddenly invading his sight. He was back in season nine as though he had never left.

Goodtimewithscar fell from a high place

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Since Scar's last incident, Grian had insisted he come to check in with him at least once a day to make sure he was safe. Staying true to his word Grian was currently flying over to Scar's starter base. So far nothing too major has happened involving Scar losing all awareness of where he was which was good but Grian wasn’t expecting that to last.

He reached the door and began raising his hand to knock before the door swung open revealing a seemingly well put together Scar. There was a bright smile on his face that didn’t seem to fully reach his eyes and he was wringing his hands slightly but apart from that nothing immediately sprung out at Grian as being wrong.

“Hey, Grian what brings you here today,” Scar said as he ushered Grian into his house. He walked to the right where his storage room was nestled and walked around the workbench in the middle revealing blocks of stained glass laid out on top.

“Um, Scar what is this?” Grian spoke carefully as he realised what was happening.

“They’re magic crystals of course!” Scar saw Grian's expression falter slightly and immediately backtracked, “Or I can give you a life, it doesn’t have to be the crystals if you don’t want them. All I ask for is your friendship, just a small price to pay for a life right?” He gave a big smile that once again didn’t reach his eyes and this time seemed desperate.

“Scar I don’t want a life or crystals-”

“Uh that’s okay then I can- I can offer you something else. Yeah, what do you want and I'll trade it I promise. All I ask for in return is an alliance,” he chuckled at the end there as he started wringing his hands with more urgency and began slightly pacing around the room gesturing to different things he could offer Grian.

“You don’t need alliances here Scar, it’s not the world you think it is,” Grian said as he moved closer to the frazzled man.

“Oh, but Grian you might not need alliances but just look at me! I’m a poor man Grian, a poor man with no friends and I’m even running out of lives. Making deals seems to be the only way that people will even take me seriously! If I’m not a business man then what am I?”

“Scar you’re not hearing me right, this is Hermitcraft. You don’t need alliances here because we’re all friends,” he begged Scar to listen to him and try to come back to his senses but it didn’t seem to be working. Instead, he just put on a more pained smile.

“Please stop whatever mind games this is, I’ll give you a life if that’s what you want and you know what, I won’t even ask for anything in return. How great of a deal is that?”

“I don’t want a life!!” Grian yelled, making Scar flinch back, ”Wait no Scar I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to yell. It’s just- I don’t want a life, I don’t need anything from you to be your friend. I am your friend Scar and you don’t need to buy it for it to be true.” He looked very hesitant as though he still didn’t fully believe Grian, which hurt to see.

“But… surely you want something in return right?” He seemed so much smaller now and Grian decided to try to approach him again. “Everyone always wants a life..” Scar whispered. Grian would be lying if he said that statement didn’t break his heart to hear.

He finally reached Scar and pulled him into a hug. The dark-haired man sank into the embrace and eventually returned it by wrapping his arms around Grian. After a little bit, Grian guided them both to the ground and before long a gentle snore could be heard from Scar. Grian smiled fondly before picking him up and carrying him to bed. He then settled himself down on the floor beside Scar's bed where he sat all night making sure he didn’t have any nightmares.

Even if he was scolded the next morning, Grian would say it was worth it.

---------

Pearl, being the other victor on the server besides Grian, had been tasked with doing Grian's daily check-in on Scar. She didn’t mind at all, it was a good chance to talk to her fellow hermit and if she could help him in any way with his newfound memories of the traumatic life games, that’d be great. After all, only she and Grian understood to some degree what Scar was going through. The other hermits were still pretty much in the dark about all of it.

As she reached his starter base she realised it was unusually lifeless. Normally there would be lights on or noises being generated, whether that was the crackling of a fire from a furnace or Scar humming as he baked cookies. But instead, it looked derelict. Due to its state, she didn’t think it necessary to bother knocking before entering. Upon entering she called out for the usual occupant of the house.

“Scar?” she called while beginning her search, “Hey Scar I’m just here to check in with ya” There was no reply.

She began searching through his base with a little bit more concern-driven haste the longer the silence continued. Scar wasn’t anywhere she looked. He wasn’t in the kitchen, storage area, bedroom or even his loft/nook area. She had run out of places to look before she remembered the tree that Scar had seemingly never found a use for. Down in the roots of the tree was a little alcove that he hadn’t gotten around to selling. She’d just assumed that Scar had blocked it off and left it be until she walked down the stairs leading to it and found it fully built up into a small cupboard-like room.

“Scar are you in there?” she asked as she knocked on the door. A small voice called out a reply.

“Oh hi Pearl, I didn’t expect you to be here but I guess that makes sense.”

Pearl pushed the door open as she assumed Scar's reply meant she was granted entry. The whole situation was beginning to give her an uneasy feeling in her stomach. “Um, Scar what are you doing in here?”

“Oh y’know just keeping myself safe and all! Wouldn’t want to cause unnecessary damage to Grian; and speaking of Grian do you mind letting him know that I've been keeping our hunger up? He’s probably been busy meeting up with his secret soulmate and all that,” Scar let out a heartless laugh at that and turned his eyes back to the wooden wall he’d been previously staring into.

Pearl was too stunned to speak. She finally began assessing the man in front of her who was sitting against a wall looking truly and utterly defeated, a pile of bread was the only other thing in the room with him. A feeling of deja vu was becoming evermore apparent as she started remembering double life and the few times she’d found Scar boxed in small areas or holes to avoid causing damage to his soulmate. Even Pearl had to admit that Grian was a bit of a prick in double life. Scar didn’t deserve any of the stuff that happened to him during that game and it was becoming clear that it may’ve had a lasting effect on him.

“Scar you don’t have to be in here you know that right?” she said as she crouched down to his level.

“You don’t get it, Pearl, I’m too clumsy and I’ll end up getting us killed; Grian would never forgive me for that. He doesn’t even want me as a soulmate. Which is why I need to stay in here, to prove to him that I’m not as reckless as he thinks I am.”

She was again at a loss for words. Grian had told her that when Scar gets like this he often has a hard time remembering where he is and that constantly telling him he’s on Hermitcraft can often do more bad than good. She began to remember the times that Scar had come to her during double life when Grian had sent him out. Maybe it was just as well that she was there instead of Grian.

“We’ve both got soulmates who want other people, we’re the same in that regard,” she spoke hesitantly, unsure if this was what Scar needed to hear right now. If she talked to him how she would during double life then maybe she could help him ride this episode out rather than forcing him out of it.

Scar's expression changed at that, it became slightly less distant and more present as he seemed to fully register Pearl's presence. “Ha yeah, both our soulmates ran off with other people,” he said solemnly.

“But that doesn’t mean you have to lock yourself away to ‘protect’,” she said using air quotes, “him from damage. It’s your life too Scar don’t forget that. Grian can deal with it, he’s the one who chose to leave and you gave him so many chances to come back.”

“I still want him to come back,” Scar whispered, now staring at the floor.

“I know Scar I know,” Pearl replied as tentatively leaned forward to grab his hands in hers. He startled slightly at the touch but made no move to pull back, instead watching with curiosity. She just held his hands in hers and looked up to his face. “We’re both sitting in your starter base on the Hermitcraft season nine server,” she paused for a bit to gauge his reaction.

He looked up at the roof and around at the small room they were in before looking back down at Pearl's gaze. “We’re not there anymore are we?”

“No, we’re not. Grian is no longer soul-linked to you and he’s your friend Scar.” Her words finally seemed to be getting through to him which was a relief.

“Thanks, Pearl… I’m sorry you had to witness that,” he said sheepishly.

“It’s absolutely okay Scar. I know how overwhelming all the memories can be and if this is how I can help you then I have no problem doing so,” she smiled and released their hands. “Now let's go make some cookies, I’m starving over here.” Scar let out a laugh at her antics and she beamed.

They both got off the floor and Scar quickly pocketed the leftover bread to deal with later. The door to that room was promptly locked and eventually forgotten about as the pair went to Scar's kitchen and spent the afternoon baking all types of cookies. Pearl ended up keeping the extent of the episode between the two of them at Scar's request, she just hoped that someday he and Grian would properly talk about what happened during those games. It was definitely well overdue.

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Scar began to feel that the grandfather clock in his base was taunting him. Every time he walked past it, it felt like eyes drilling into the back of his head. He knew that was absurd and that he sounded insane but he found it hard to shake the feeling. Sometimes it made him want to curl into a ball and hide, other times it made him want to punch the clock face. Today was one of the latter days.

He’d walked past it at least a dozen times today and the urge only got stronger. He found himself finding lame excuses to walk past it again and again and again before it all got too much.

His fist connected with the glass with much more force than was necessary, only he didn’t think of that before he punched it. The glass immediately exploded everywhere and embedded itself into his skin. Still, he didn’t move from his spot. Blood began running down his hand as he lowered his arm and his brain caught up with his actions.

“What have I done?” he whispered, raising the back of his hand to his chest and looking up at the shattered clock face. The hands were completely broken and the clock had stopped working altogether. He’d broken it. In a fit of rage and desperation. Broken his link to family. The Clockers.

He sank to the floor on top of the glass shards that cut into his knees. That was the least of his problems. His family, they were all gone, they all died. He began to panic and his breathing picked up as he remembered Bdubs, Cleo and Etho. They were his family and they were all killed.

Through his hazed panic and the tears in his eyes, he saw blotches of red covering the ground and his hand, red that reminded him of his final death in that game.

“The ultimate betrayal!” Grian had yelled before stabbing Scar in the back. The third time Grian had final-killed him.

He curled up tighter on the floor and distantly realised he was crying. His mind was thick with panic as he broke down on his floor surrounded by glass and blood. Eventually, his vision began to swim as the call of the void got louder before he dove into unconsciousness.

No one would end up finding him. Instead, he woke up and had to clean up the mess himself, still swallowed by the guilt of punching that clock.

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It had been a week since his last episode and Scar had decided it was finally time for him to return to Scarland. Both Grian and Pearl had also figured that it was about time he started going back to normality again. It was nice to finally be out of his starter base but he did miss constantly being around the shade of all the trees.

Right now he was finishing off a section of Adventureland near the volcano to prepare for the addition of rides. He was so focused that he never realised it was nighttime nor did he hear the zombie approach him. He only turned around when it was too late. Its claws sunk into the side of his arm and suddenly he was back in secret life. He’d just won and the realisation was crumbling down upon him again. He’d killed Pearl and won. The guy with no friends had won. And now he was alone

He didn’t even realise when the zombie killed him and respawned in the bed he’d set up nearby. Turns out it was too nearby. The zombie began lumbering towards an immobilised Scar who was still too caught up in memories to realise what was happening around him.

Scar was back in secret life. The cold, dead expanse of the abandoned server stretched beneath him. He was back, and this time he couldn’t escape. This time he only had half a heart instead of his forty-five and a half last time so the smallest fall of a ledge should’ve killed him. It definitely did kill him, but instead, it respawned him right below the secret keeper, time and time again. He also constantly felt the claws of zombies digging into his skin. It was faint but it was there.

No matter how many times he died. He’d. Always. Respawn.

-

Grian was adding touch-ups to his floating rock base when Scar's first death message popped up in the chat. It wasn’t that out of the ordinary considering that Scar was typically accident-prone but Grian decided he’d keep an eye on the chat and check up on Scar in a bit. It wasn’t even 30 seconds after when the next death message popped up. Now he felt anxiety build up in his stomach. The next one came even quicker which is when he decided to drop everything and fly over to Scarland.

He flew there as fast as he physically could and it barely took him any time at all considering the proximity of their bases. In the time that Grian took to get there two more death messages had sounded indicating Scar was probably stuck in a death loop. A zombie wasn’t a great sign either; that was probably what had set him off in fact, and now he was stuck in a death loop.

When Grian finally found Scar in Adventureland he was lying on top of a bed unconscious as multiple zombies attacked him. He got there just as Scar was respawning and noticed his body flickering as the respawn mechanics took effect. The flickering wasn’t a normal feature of respawning and it typically indicated an error. Scars death loop needed to be ended immediately.

Grian easily sliced through the zombies surrounding Scar and quickly moved to examine the prone man. He still had a lot of raw injuries, more than he should’ve had considering his recent respawn. His constant dying mustn't have given his body enough time to heal from its previous injuries.

He decided it would be better to treat his injuries in the safety of one of the buildings on Main Street, so he picked him up and carried him into the faux cinema. Grian lay him on the bed already in there and started rummaging through his chests to find a healing potion. He knew Scar would have some due to the amount of times he’d injured himself.

Once he acquired a few healing pots Grian returned to Scar's side and gently poured the potion on his many wounds. Some closed immediately while others slowly mended. Grian finally let himself sigh in relief once he knew Scar would be okay. Respawn mechanics were fickle things to mess with and death loops especially can have all sorts of dangerous side effects. He slumped down against the side of the bed and decided to sit there until Scar awoke.

At some point, Grian must have fallen asleep because when he woke up the sky was bright again and Scar was awake staring blankly at the roof.

“Hey Scar, how are you feeling,” Grian asked as he turned his body to face the bed. There was silence for a while but he just let it go on for as long as Scar needed. When he finally spoke, it wasn’t what Grian was expecting to hear.

“Is the loneliness always going to be this all-consuming?” Scar muttered while still blankly staring at the roof.

“I-” the question caught Grian completely off guard. He just sighed and looked down at his hands. “I don’t know Scar, I honestly don’t know.”