Work Text:
Scar didn't mean for it to happen.
He really didn't! All he wanted to do was use Grian's enchanting table and make his tools all nice and sparkly and powerful. But then all the monsters came, and he didn't know what to do, and it all blew up and he tried to shoo them away with his cane, but it didn't work.
And Grian's enchanting table was destroyed. All that hard work that he'd put in, all those bookshelves— gone. Because Scar was being foolish and he didn't sleep in a bed before he went and he felt terrible.
Too worn out and exhausted to leave a sign, Scar sat there, up against the remaining bookshelf, holding his knees to his chest as his cane rested somewhere on the floor. Somewhere, he didn't know. He knew he should've left signs or something, some way to tell Grian what happened, but he knew he wouldn't be able to get up then. And even if he could get up and leave a sign, he was sure that the words wouldn't even come to him.
He was, admittedly, ashamed when the tears started to flow, his forehead pressed against his knees as they poured down his cheeks. Scar was a strong man. He knew how to defend himself! He did, he really did! And he tried his best to, but everything was so overwhelming and there was nothing Scar could do.
Scar tried to take deep breaths, just like Grian had taught him to. In for five, out for five. In for five, out for five. Except in his guilt-muddled brain, he found it hard to count. He could get up to three at best, but he just couldn't remember what went after that. He hit his fists against the dirt, frustrated, and that was when he knew.
And that was when the emotions flooded out of him, ripping him open as he struggled to keep himself together. Scar's breaths were shaky as he placed his hand on his chin, his thumb creeping dangerously close to his mouth. He couldn't fight it anymore, had to let himself succumb. Scar slid the tip of his thumb into his mouth, soothing himself by sucking on it.
This is okay, he thought. 'M okay.
He was snapped out of his trance when he heard whistling coming down the mountain, down the staircase that led to Grian's base. Scar tried to keep calm when he heard him but couldn't hold in his sniffle as he rubbed his runny nose, hot tears still pouring from his eyes like waterfalls.
"Scar?" Grian called out, no doubt seeing him there.
Scar mumbled out an 'I'm Fine', attempting to say the words without butchering them or accidentally letting out baby talk. It didn't work, though, because Grian was crouching beside him and lifting up his hat, sliding it off of his head. Scar kept himself from snatching the hat out of Grian's hand; he didn't like it when he didn't have the thing.
Grian tapped Scar on the top of his head, and reluctantly, Scar raised it to look up at him. There was no doubt he looked like he was crying, his eyes were red and puffy and still wet with tears, as were his cheeks, drying tear tracks still visible on them.
"Was there a mob?" Grian asked. Scar hoped he wouldn't be mad, but took his chance and nodded. When he meant to apologize and explain, though, no words fell from his lips except one, and it wasn't one he meant to say.
"Baba," Scar frowned, sniffling. Grian's gaze softened as he held Scar tightly, his hand creeping up to Scar's hair. By then, Scar had quickly stopped caring about his hat (or, lack thereof) and leaned into Grian's touch, letting somewhat-sharp nails scratch his scalp.
"It's okay, Scar. You didn't mean for all this to happen," Grian comforted, his voice gentle. "Baba knows how it is. Baba understands, okay?" Grian looked into Scar's eyes, hoping for Scar to look back. Scar didn't, maybe looked a little higher up, but that was okay. What was more important than eye contact was the fact that Scar wasn't forcing himself to do what Grian wanted. Grian knew he didn't like making eye contact, and that was just fine.
"Can you tell Baba what happened?" Grian asked, gently soothing Scar by rubbing circles into his scalp with his nails. Scar sighed.
"'Reeper," he pouted, voice still shaky. Grian understood, wrapping his other arm around Scar's torso and hugging him. He gave Scar a kiss on the temple which seemed to cheer him up. Scar wiped away his tears with his sleeve, looking up at Grian as his frown began to fade.
Scar was safe. Scar was safe there, and he knew that. He'd always be safe with Grian, in Grian's arms.
"I'm sorry, that sounds so scary! Thank you for being so brave, darling," Grian smiled, and Scar did too. "I'm proud of you for being brave." That seemed like all Scar needed to hear as he began to calm himself, nuzzling his head into the soft fabric of Grian's shirt.
"Fanks, Baba," he muttered, his voice muffled by Grian's chest. The man smiled.
"Do you wanna help Baba catch some fish so we can have a nice, yummy dinner?" Grian asked. Scar eagerly nodded, attempting to stand at which Grian quickly held him steady and picked up his cane. The thing was, however, Grian had stacks upon stacks of fish. He wouldn't have to fish for months, but he figured it would help Scar his mind off of the incident.
Scar walked much slower when he was small, relying on his cane much more often than he usually did. In Season Nine, Grian would typically have him use his wheelchair so he wouldn't fall too far behind or risk tripping and injuring himself, but it was too early in Season Ten for him to do so. So Grian walked beside him, holding him as he walked down to the little fishing house.
Scar quickly sat down on the fishing dock, sitting cross-legged as he waited eagerly for Grian to grab his fishing rod. Scar wasn't the best at fishing, but he was good enough to help his Baba fish, and he was excited to do just that.
"Baba! Baba!" Scar chanted, grinning. It was almost as if his residing guilt from the previous incident had subsided already, and Grian was eager to keep little Scar distracted. Scar had finally given in and let that cotton-like fog fill his mind, now making a point to chew on the cuff of his sleeve.
Scar pointed to the water then pointed to his feet, silently asking a question. The day was getting hot, and Scar wanted to cool off and dip his toes in the water. Maybe if he did, the fishies would come and say hi to him! Oh, wouldn't that be exciting? Little thoughts filled his mind as he happily swung his legs, waiting for an answer.
"Of course, kiddo! You can dip your toes in. Do you need help getting your shoes and braces off, lovely?" Grian rested his fishing rod against the hut as he knelt down to help Scar, unbuckling the boy's shoes and the metal braces he wore to help him walk. Grian carefully set them in a pile beside the fishing rod, which he picked up.
"Help," Scar insisted, tapping the fishing rod. Grian understood immediately, letting Scar hold onto the fishing rod as he fished. Scar wasn't much help, seeing as the boy got easily distracted with every fish he saw, but Grian was happy he was entertained. When Grian caught a fish Scar clapped and cheered and damn Grian if it wasn't the most adorable thing he'd ever seen.
Scar was eager to help Grian reel in his salmon. The fish was big enough for them both, but Scar insisted he have a go at trying to catch one. Grian handed over the rod, making sure Scar didn't get hurt as Grian put the bait on for him. Every time something snagged on the rod, Scar insisted he check on "Wormy", but nothing was there. He frowned, nearly dropping the rod into the water.
"Baba? Why I no gets da fishies?" he whined, his speech slurring together as he pouted. He was trying his best to catch the fish, he really was! But Scar couldn't help feeling like he'd let his baba down. Grian had caught his fish so easily, and maybe that was because he was a big boy or because Scar helped, but it was hard. Why couldn't he just catch the fish?
As Grian helped him get the fishing line back to where it was, he felt a heavy pulling on the rod. He was thankful when Grian put his hands on it to keep it from falling—it nearly fell right into the water with the fish. Grian placed a steady hand on Scar's shaking one and helped him reel it in, giving Scar a nice kiss on the temple when a big cod was on the other end. Grian took the cod off of the hook and placed it into a barrel with the salmon, congratulating Scar, who giggled happily.
"I did it, Baba! I did it!" Grian put the fishing rod away and picked Scar up, hugging him. Scar was proud of himself for doing something just like his Grian. Grian carried him all the way into the fishing hut, letting him sit down on a bed while Grian cooked and cleaned.
And after a nice dinner of yummy fish sticks, Scar was content at last. He snuggled into the bed Grian had placed in the fishing hut, Grian sitting beside him and telling him a story, and let himself drift off to sleep.
"G'night, Baba," he whispered, and before the man could respond, Scar was out.
Everything would be okay when his Baba was around.