Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Grian has lots of secrets.

He was in little words a mysterious person to most of the hermits. Everyone knew Grian was blond, they knew he was a wonderful builder and prankster. They knew he loved parrots and cats, they knew the two wings on his back were the parrot kind and they knew he didn’t talk about anything that happened before Hermitcraft. 

His life was a ball of confusion and chaos that even he didn’t like to dwell on. He was notorious for mysteriously disappearing from people’s lives and reappearing later on. 

The first time he disappeared from someone’s life was when he was a kid. He lived with his twin brother and older sister in a large house somewhere on the coast of England on an earth server. His life with his siblings could be described as… problematic. While his older sister was beloved by their parents and his twin brother doted on by maids and servants. He was often left to his own devices until his siblings found him hidden in one of the many hallways. While both his brother and sister had been planned to be there he was the odd one. Their parents hadn’t wanted twins. 

“What are you doing?” The canary hybrid asked his twin once he’d found him hidden in the corner of one of the unused rooms in the house. 

Grian looked around, trying to find some kind of excuse for why he was sitting in an empty room alone. “Sitting.”

His twin glared at him, eyes squinting in a detective kind of way. “Why?”

“Why not.” He stated, unbothered. 

“It’s boring.” Jimmy said, but he sat down in front of him anyway. 

“Then you can leave.” The parrot hybrid said, picking on the leg of his pants. 

“But Pearl wanted me to find you.” Jimmy said, “She said we were going to eat dinner with mom and dad.” Jimmy smiled, as if he had just ruined all of Grian plans.

“They won’t want me there.” Grian said, matter-of-factly. 

Jimmy’s face broke into confusion as he paused, “Why? It’s family dinner.”

“I’m not family.” Grian said, firmly.

“Since when?” Jimmy asked, crooking his head to the side.

“Since we were born.” Grian said, simply. 

Jimmy just looked more confused, he stared at his shoes for a moment, thinking. “But…”He drew out, the same way a regular five year old would, “I’m family, and you’re my twin! So you’re family.” Jimmy smiled, feeling as if he’d won the argument. 

Grian sighed, shaking his head, “No. You’re family. And I’m your twin. Therefore, I am not their family. It’s different.” Grian said.

Jimmy huffed, “That doesn’t make sense.” But the canary sighed, knowing he’d lost. He leaned his head on his hand, elbow in the crook of his leg as he sat criss-crossed. “Can you at least play hide and seek afterwards? Pearl likes to cheat.”

Grian smiled, nodding small, “You just use the same hiding spots every time.”

He would disappear from their lives two weeks later, when their parents finally had enough and sent him to Japan. He had no idea when his siblings came to understand what had happened, but he knew that not long after Pearl left home with Jimmy right behind her. He never got the chance to tell them where he was leaving to, his parents sending him away with only a few hours notice. 

Japan would lead to be one of his worst experiences, but he would disappear from Tuartis and Sam’s lives just a few years after entering it. 

“Where are you going?” Taurtis whispered from the stairwell of Sam’s house. Grian still had his school uniform on and his backpack was around his shoulders. His hand still on the doorknob of the front door as he stared outside. He was so close to leaving, if only Taurtis hadn’t woken up. 

He turned around slowly, a sad, careful look on his face. “Grian?” Taurtis asked, again. 

“I can’t-I can’t stay, Taurtis.” Grian whispered.  His hands gripped his backpack straps tightly. 

“Why?” Taurtis asked. 

Grian frowned, he took a step away from the door, “You can’t say you don’t see it.” He whispered, sharply. “Sam’s not-He’s not right. I can’t-I can’t stay.”

Taurtis’s brow furrowed, “Sam’s fine, what are you talking about. I’ll go get him-”

“No!” Grian almost shouted, trying to grab Taurtis’s arm before he could move. “No. Please, don’t. I can’t-please. Taurtis, I have to go. I have to leave. I can’t stay like this. And-And you shouldn’t either.” Grian bit his lip, he shook his head, “You can come with me.”

“What?” Taurtis asked, confused. 

“Yeah!” Grian smiled, a few tears brimming his eyes, “Come with me. I’ve-I’ve got a ticket for the train to the airport. We can sneak you on. I’ve got two tickets for the plane. Please, Taurtis, this isn’t safe.” Grian grabbed his friend's arms, pleading with him. 

“No. No, we can’t leave Sam. He’d be so sad. Friends don’t leave friends, Grian.” Taurtis said, snatching his hands away. 

“He is not my friend!” Grian snapped, and he flinched from his own voice. Taurtis stared at him with wide fearful eyes. Grian frowned, “Maybe-Maybe he was once, but not-not anymore.”

“Then leave.” Taurtis snapped back, eyes hardening as he stared at him. “No one’s stopping you. Leave.” 

Grian’s shoulders fell as he took a step back. “Taurtis, please-”

“Leave. If you don’t want to be there for our friend, then don’t. But don’t try to make me do the same.” Taurtis growled out, pointing to the door. 

Grian swallowed, his tears started to fall from the corner of his eyes. “Please, don’t tell Sam.”

Taurtis frowned, “What do you want me to say?” He sighed, shrugging. He didn’t look Grian in the eyes. 

Grian let out a breath, “Tell him-Tell him I’m sick.” Taurtis nodded, and pointed to the door sadly, his anger draining from him and all he felt was somber sadness and Grian ran out the door, as it slammed behind him. 

Only when he made it back to England, and his eyes landed on his old home he was met with the news that his siblings had left. He had successfully disappeared from Japan but failed to reappear in his siblings' lives. His parents still lived in the house on the coast, but neither his twin nor older sister had been there in years, as they had claimed to never go back there. 

Which left the nine year old grian to walk the streets of england, in his old school uniform worn from fights and travel. However, it led him to the feet of his best friend in the world. While he’d failed to re-enter his family's lives, he found himself appearing in Mumbo’s.

“Why are you wearing that?” The raven haired boy had asked him. Grian looked over to see the boy was sitting on the steps of a toy shop that was in the process of opening. He wore just a simple white shirt and black cardigan with a red bow tie, but he couldn’t look any less proper. He had an unnatural amount of redstone stuck to his clothes and a couple of twigs stuck in his hair. “You look like you got in a fight…and lost.” The boy added. 

Grian glared, “You don’t look much better.” He muttered.

The boy frowned, “I tripped on my own redstone and landed in a comparator. Then the pistone trapped me with the clock running so I couldn’t get out till my dad found me.” He muttered, as if he’d in fact lost a fight. Grian chuckled, not having laughed in a bit, the noise surprised him and he flinched. 

The flinch caught the other’s attention, but he seemed to smile as Grian laughed. “I guess it is kind of funny.” He huffed, “What’d you do?”

Grian froze, unsure of how to answer, but the other had been honest with him even though his story was embarrassing. He sighed, “You gotta not tell anyone.” 

The boy smiled, “You won’t tell anyone ‘bout my embarrassment, right?”

Grian nodded, smiling, before he sat down on the side of the boy on the steps. “I ran away.”

“Oh.” The boy mumbled, they were both silent for a moment, “I’m sorry.” 

Grian shrugged, “It’s okay. I think I just wanted to see my family again.” He muttered. 

The other boy looked at him confused, his brow furrowing in a funny way. “Wait. I’m confused. I thought you ran away? You want to see your family?”

Grian shrugged, he picked at the ground underneath them. His fingers danced around a tall blade of grass. “I was running back to my family. Ran away from someone else, but I don’t think either one really wants me.” 

“Oh.” The boy sighed, “Well, I want you here.”

“You don’t know me.” Grian huffed, rolling his eyes. 

The boy shrugged, “My name’s Mumbo.” He turned to Grian and held out his redstone stained hand. Grian sighed, taking the boy’s hand, “Grian.”

Six years later, Grian disappeared once again. Of course, he learned from his mistake and told Mumbo he was leaving for a visit to Japan. The two fifteen year olds parted ways promising to talk as much as they could and to see each other once Grian got back. Only he never did come back. 

What was only supposed to be a few months visit, turned into a year. Which turned into two, and a missing persons case and several close calls. Mumbo didn’t forget his friend, but he did mourn. The police claimed Grian was a closed case after no more evidence could be found about where he was. Grian had successfully disappeared once again from someone’s life. 

Reappearing in Sam and Taurtis lives would go on to be the worst mistake of Grian’s life. One he’d never share to anyone, no matter how hard it got to keep the secret of what happened. 

Three years later he escaped once again. A sort of deju vu fell over Grian and Mumbo when they saw each other again. Mumbo was sitting on the steps of his parent’s toy shop, redstone staining his suit after he’d spooned his way through another redstone contraption. And Grian was still wearing his school uniform, dirty from fights, murders, and travel as he and Mumbo stared at each other. 

“Why are you wearing that?” Mumbo asked, after a long tense silence. His dark eyes trace Grian’s terrible form. He was malnourished, that was obvious, but he also had blood spilling from scratches and scars that marked his face.

“Could ask you the same thing.” Grian muttered, moving to sit down next to Mumbo. 

“What happened?” Mumbo asked. 

Grian didn’t answer. He just stared dead ahead, his fingers twitching as he picked at the ground the same way he had years ago. “I can’t stay.”

Mumbo snapped his head over to look at his friend, “What?”

“I can’t stay.” Grian whispered. “He’s looking for me. If I stay on this server, he’ll find me.”

Mumbo was silent this time. His own hands fiddling with his tie. “Who?”

“I can’t tell you.” Gria whispered, he could feel the burning in his face that came with fresh tears. “I want to but I can’t.”

“You’re here. Can’t you stay? Can’t we keep you safe?” Mumbo asked, his eyes stealing a glance at Grian. The blond was tracing over the blood that was stained on his shirt and uniform. He shook his head. 

“I can’t do that to you.” Grian muttered, “He’ll hurt you.” 

Mumbo offered his hand to the blond. Grian stared at the hand that was laid against his leg. He flinched at first, but slowly relaxed and handed his own hand over to his friend. It was the first positive contact he’d had in a long time. 

“Then what?” Mumbo asked.

“I have to leave. I have to leave the server.” Grian muttered, “I have an idea. I’m-I’m going to make a server. I’ll invite some people I know. And I’ll be safe,” Grian turned to look Mumbo in the eyes. The raven haired boy looked back sadly.  

“You’re going to tell me I can’t come.” Mumbo said.

“I can’t-if something goes wrong-if he finds it…I’m sorry.” Grian muttered. 

Mumbo nodded, “I know. You may call me a spoon, Gri, but I’m not dumb. I know what’s going on.” 

Grian looked at him, his eyebrows raised and face confused. Mumbo smiled, “Japan’s big but I think what was happening there was enough to reach across the server. You’re right. You’re not safe here. So let me help you get out.” 

“Are you sure?” Grian asked.

Mumbo sighed, and Grian could see the tears that were falling from Mumbo’s face. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure. I know you’re good at disappearing but-but let me help this time.”

Grian frowned, but nodded, “Okay.”

Disappearing to Evo, and leaving Mumbo behind was one of the hardest things Grian had to do. He swore to stay in contact this time with his best friend. He promised to tell him if something happened, and Mumbo promised to always be a call away. 

Becoming Evo’s admin was something Grian never saw coming, but it was something he wouldn’t give up. Because Evo gave him the chance to reappear in his sibling’s lives. He’d been able to invite his siblings to the server under the guise of ‘Admin of Evo’ with the help of Mumbo. He just had to hope they'd accept, that he’d be able to see them again. 

In the end only Jimmy accepted. 

“When exactly are you planning to talk to me?” Jimmy asked, staring at his brother from the entrance of his home. Grian had been avoiding his twin after seeing him during his initial introduction of the server. 

He had seen the broken face his brother had made when he recognized Grian. He’d seen the fear and sadness that switched from the first excitement he’d had. He didn’t want to ruin his brother’s first moment on the server, but he hadn’t exactly thought about how he was going to speak to him. 

Instead he’d run away to make his starter home and forget he was anywhere near his twin. Jimmy didn’t seem to have the same idea though. 

Grian shifted in his spot in his front entrance. “Would you believe me if I said I was leaving to find you now?”

“Really?” Jimmy asked, knowing his twin was not in fact doing that.

“Sorry.” Grian muttered. 

Jimmy sighed, looking around before his eyes landed back on Grian. He traced over his brother, for the first time in years. “You look terrible.”

“Thanks.” Grian grumbled.

“When was the last time you slept?” Jimmy asked, his wings puffing up behind him. 

Grian shifted again, “I’ve been busy.” They were both silent, neither knowing what exactly to say. Jimmy was shifting on his feet now, nervousness itching his skin. 

“Can I come inside?” Jimmy asked, pointing into the starter house. Grian nodded, moving to let his twin inside. Grian shut the door behind him, quietly. “Can we talk?” Jimmy asked.

“I thought we already were?” Grian tried to joke, with a tiny smirk. 

Jimmy glared at his twin, “I mean about serious stuff. Like, you know.” He crossed his arms, uncomfortably. 

“Are you sure you want to?” Grian said, sitting in a chair at a small table. Jimmy frowned, and Grian just sighed, “It’ll ruin your view on our parents.”

Jimmy frowned more, sitting down in the chair across from Grian, “You’re forgetting that me and Pearl left after we figured out what they did to you. Whatever you say will not affect how I feel about them, at least not in the way you think.”

Grian sighed, smiling to himself sadly, “Okay.”

“Just be honest with me.” Jimmy said, “We’re not-We’re not five-you can tell me honestly what happened.”

Pearl’s appearance on the server took longer than Grian would’ve expected. Apparently, after Jimmy had learned who the admin of evo was, he’d told Pearl. She’d been adamant about joining the server after that, but it had taken a longer time than any of them would’ve hoped to get her to transfer servers. In fact, Jimmy and Pearl had been working on it secretly without Grian’s knowledge until he was needed for the transfer himself. 

Still, with the three reunited, Grian made sure to inform Mumbo all about his news. Luckily, to his credit, Mumbo was quick to celebrate with him, even if it was just through messages. All during evo, Grian thought things were finally going to smooth over, everything would be fine. Mumbo had been invited to a server called HermitCraft and was making all types of new friends there. And Grian was living happily with his siblings in his own safe server. 

Except, Grian was notorious for appearing randomly in people’s lives. 

Which just so happened, when he went to visit the main hub for a few needed items for his players. It was a simple trip, one he’d made plenty of time before. All he had to do was pick up a few small items that they couldn’t get in their world and he could head back. 

He was picking up an order for Netty when he saw the kid. 

Small, malnourished, and bruised the kid was getting pushed around by the busy streets of the hub.  

He didn’t look any older than maybe six and was getting pushed and shoved by the many shopper and visitors walking around paying no mind to him. The kid was even trying to escape the crowd, desperate to leave the groups of moving people. But any chance he had was blocked by someone else. 

Grian huffed, grabbing the order for Netty and exiting the shop to see if he could get a better look at the situation. He wasn’t just going to let this kid drown in the crowd. It didn’t take him long to find the kid, the blond was getting shoved by a taller, more brutish force. 

“Watch it, brat.” The man grumbled, shoving the kid out of the way. The kid glared, before an indigent squawk erupted from the kid’s throat as he stomped on the man’s shoe. 

Grian’s face twisted as he looked closer to see how the kid managed to make such a noise if he wasn’t an avian. The man cringed, turning away from the kid and leaving him alone. Grian let out a sigh of relief that the situation hadn’t escalated anymore. 

The kid however, was still trying to escape the rush of players that were flowing down the streets like a river. Grian could see as the kid was just about to make his way out of the crowd, he was pulled back in by another hand. 

Grian raised an eyebrow watching closely to see where the hand had come from and saw that another player was gripping the kid’s wrist tightly. The kid however, didn’t seem to like the grip and was tugging out of it. 

A pit grew in the parrot hybrids stomach and he rushed forward, trying to get a better view of the situation. He pushed through the crowd, moving people until he could see a player dragging the younger blond along as the kid started squeaking and stomping his feet. 

Abandoning the list of things his players needed he ran after the two before grabbing the player’s shoulder and stopping them from moving forward anymore. 

The player turned towards him and Grian didn’t take any time to try and commit the details of their face to memory, instead he turned towards the kid who was still trying to get away. 

Grian huffed out, roughly, trying to catch his breath from running, he pointed to the player, “You know them?” He asked. 

He stared at the kid intently, trying to make the kid understand he was serious and he needed to be honest. 

The kid shook his head, eyes wide with fear and tears brimming as he stared up at him. Grian looked back to the person he still had a tight hold off, “Let him go.”

“What?” The player scoffed, confused, “He’s lying, we’re going home. I don’t think that’s any of your business, what we’re doing.”

Grian glared at the player, “Let him go.”

The next moments happened so fast that Grian still years later had a hard time processing what happened. In a moment’s notice, the player’s grip loosened on the kid and the player moved forward shoving Grian off of them. With the player’s grip no longer on him the kid bolted.

Grian had watched for only a second, as the kid bolted out of the crowd as fast as possible. Then he recognized which way the kid was going. The kid was running right into the middle of the road. Grian’s eyes widened and he righted himself quickly before chasing after the kid. 

Cars were not something that players had to worry about much, not unless they were on a very modded server. Elytras, however, were just as dangerous if you were caught by someone flying too close to the ground and much too fast to stop. That was why roads in the main hub were dedicated flight paths, and a kid running right in the middle of one was a terrible idea. 

Grian didn’t had a lot of time when he saw the players flying down the roads talking together as they flew. He could see the kid running directly into the road, and he could see the fliers moving too fast to stop. 

Grian cursed under his breath, something he was honestly trying to curb, before he ran out into the street pulling the kid back to the sidewalk as soon as he was within reach. 

The fliers just barely missed the kid’s hair as Grian and the kid landed on the sidewalk after a rough tumble. 

Grian shot up, patting himself down before he turned to the kid, “Are you alright?”

The kid was breathing harshly, tiny puffs of air coming out of his mouth quickly. The blond was staring at the street with a newfound fear, his feet struggling to kick the road away from him and get himself farther away. 

“Hey. Hey, you’re okay.” Grian tried to calm down, he pushed himself off the sidewalk, pulling himself to the kid’s side who was still lying on his back. 

Blue eyes stared back at him with wide eyed fear, “Why did you do that?”

Grian tried to control his own breathing, “You were going to get yourself hurt.”

“And?” The boy snapped, “You don’t know me.”

Grian frowned, remembering saying that exact same thing to some, “My name’s Grian.”

The boy stared at him, rather than giving him a name like Grian had done with his best friend years ago, the boy shoved himself off the pavement. The boy stared at him for a moment as Grian tried to lift himself from the ground. The kid looked confused as Grian stood up, brushing himself off and giving him a tired smile. The boy grimaced and ran away before either of them could say anything else. 

Grian opened his mouth to call out for the kid, but he still didn’t have a name for the blond and didn’t know where he’d come from or was going to. He stopped himself from getting too involved in something that didn’t involve him. He didn’t need to disappear from his own server.

So he tried to forget about the kid. 

Tried to. 

Look, Grian had never been the best at staying on task. He’d never been perfect at finishing one project before starting the next. And he certainly couldn’t leaveany mystery unsolved once he’d found it. 

Even after going back to Evo, handing out whatever he needed to give to his players and talking to his brother. He still hadn’t forgotten about the kid. He survived two weeks before he felt the pull of his curiosity get him again. 

Luckily, he had the newest excuse of leaving the server to gather materials for their next time jump. 

He entered the main hub and started cautiously walking towards the same place he’d seen the kid two weeks ago. Some part of him told him there was no way the kid was still there, and yet another part of him told him that the kid wouldn’t leave.

He was entering a lesser occupied stall when he saw it. He’d been talking to the shopkeep on some random topic when in the corner of his eyes he saw a smaller figure running through the crowd of people on the sidewalk. He paused his talking, turning to fully see the scene.

The blond had learned how to follow the crowd now, he was getting trampled and he wasn’t getting pushed around. Instead the kid was working the crowd pretty easily. Grian could spot it from across the street how the kid was slipping his hands into their pockets and swiping whatever he could get. 

Grian nodded to the shopkeep, leaving the stall to continue his watchful gaze. The kid slipped his hand into another player’s pocket pulling out a bundle of some kind tied in string. 

He started heading towards the crowd, where the kid was pickpocketing, when the last person the kid had stolen from spun around. The player patting down their pockets noticing the missing bundle. It took less than three seconds before the player had locked eyes on the younger blond. 

The player snatched the bundle away from the younger, easily overpowering the clearly malnourished kid, and holding onto their wrist for a bit too long. 

The boy’s eyes widened, as he wrangled to get away from the player. 

“Sorry. Sorry! Sorry!” The boy was repeating, as he tried to pull away from the player.

“What the hell?” The player scoffed, “Little street urchin! Learn to keep your hands to yourself, no one wants you touching anything they own and work for.”

“Woah, hey, little harsh there don’t you think?” Grian interrupted, stepping up behind the kid. The player looked up from the boy to Grian, glare squinting into something scathing. The kid, however, just looked up,  moving all the way back so he could see Grian behind him. The kid’s face turned from something nervous to something scared in moments. 

“Teach not to be a little pick pocketing scamp and there wouldn’t be a problem.” The player glowered. 

Grian frowned, “Honestly, I think you should take your own advice and keep your hands to yourself.” Grian nodded to where the player was still gripping the kid’s wrist tightly. “Let him go.”

The player took back their hand quickly, like the boy’s arm had scalded them and swiftly turned away. The player moved along with the rest of the crowd leaving just Grian with the boy. 

Neither of them said anything, both just watching as people made a small circle around them to avoid getting near the kid. 

“What do you want?” The boy huffed, crossing his arms as he turned to face Grian.

“Pro tip: don’t go for the ones that look like they come from modded servers. They’re always a bit too careful when they’re walking around and are always checking for pickpockets. It’s best to go for the ones from single player worlds. They’re a bit more…” He paused, thinking of the best way to put it, “Loopy from loneliness.”

The boy stared at him for a moment, completely wide eyed and shocked, “Why the fuck would you tell me that?”

Grian cringed at the language, but shrugged, “Look kid, not everyone gets the same start up as these guys, some people just aren’t that lucky.”

“You saying you’re not like ‘em.” The boy said, a bit more of an accent pushing through his voice as he motioned to the people behind him. 

Grian squinted his eyes in a mocking glare, “I’m saying I’ve been in your spot before, so shut up and take the advice.”

The boy smirked, a tiny laugh breaking through his resolve, “Alright, Mister, this is the second time we’ve met in this situation, I say the time calls for dinner.” The boy said, confidently, nodding to himself like he was answering. “You’re paying!”

Grian straightened, “I’m sorry, what? That- I don’t think you fully understand what’s going on here.”

The boy stared at him, an eyebrow raised, “Really? You just decided that it would be a good idea to help out a strange orphan kid in the middle of nowhere twice? You want to do something good for the little kid and I want food. So dinner.” He said, nodding once again. 

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” Grian muttered.

“Look, man, are you going to buy me dinner or not, because my other option just kind of walked away.” The boy sighed, pointing to where the player had left.

Grian sighed, “Come on, I know a place.” He said, holding out his hand in case the kid wanted it. Instead the kid just jumped a little in place and grinned wider, before running up ahead. 

“Great, let’s go, I haven’t eaten in days.” He cheered, dashing in front of the older avian. 

“That’s concerning to hear.” Grian muttered.

Grian took the kid to a slightly quieter section of the main hub, it was still bustling with people but there were as many crowded in one place. In fact the two had found a nice secluded corner never the stall Grian had order food from. 

There was a nice picnic table, underneath a large oak tree that gave way to shade over them. The blond sat at the table, tapping playfully on the wooden picnic table, while Grian stood off to the side waiting for their food. 

When their food was ready, the older blond brought it over, placing it down on the table and separating their orders. 

The younger, immediately grabbed hold of the food unwrapping it and starting to gobble it down as quickly as he could. Grian watched, a bit concerned, his brow tightening. He slightly wondered if he acted this way when he was younger in Japan. 

The boy swallowed down another chunk of food before speaking, “Why are you still here?”

Grian shrugged, “You asked me to get you food.”

“Doesn’t mean you gotta stay and watch me.” The boy grumbled.

“I’m not watching you. I’m just-Look did you want the food or not.” Grian huffed, sitting down across the kid and unwrapping his own order.

“Just don’t know why you stick around-less your some creep.” The boy pointed out, an eyebrow raised, “Are you a creep?”

“What?” Grian paused, a bit shocked, but he shook his head, “No. No, absolutely not.”

The kid hummed, “Then why are you still here?”

Grian sighed, “I’ve just been in that situation before. I know at least a bit of what it’s like. I kind of wish someone would’ve helped me.” He took a few bites of his food, “You’re right to be wary of strangers, though.”

“Yeah, Stranger Danger and that shit.” The kid muttered, “You gonna kidnap me?”

Grian rolled his eyes, “Definitely not.’Got enough to deal with on my own server. My players already act like children there.”

The boy snickered under his breath, “You an admin?

Grian nodded, “Yup.”

“You keep saying you’ve been in my spot before. What do you mean?” The boy asked, finishing his food and licking the rest off his fingers. 

Grian hummed, staring at the food in front of him, “Exactly what I said.”

The boy groaned, huffing dramatically, “You’re so cryptic!”

Grian laughed to himself, “Big word for a kid.”

The blond glared, “I’m not a kid. I’m the biggest man there is, and know lots of words.”

Grian nodded, “Mhm,” He set down his food, leaning forward on his elbows, “How about this. I tell you how I ended up in my spot and you tell me how you ended up here. That way we’re not the strangest strangers to each other.”

“Why do you talk like that?” The boy asked, cringing.

“Like what?” Grian asked, almost offended. 

“You talk so silly.” The boy chuckled, “Like you’re constantly telling a joke.”

Grian rolled his eyes, “You wanna talk or not?”

“Fine.” The boy huffed, “But you have to go first.”

Grian shrugged, “Alright. Well, when I was younger around six my parents got a bit tired of me. They sent me off to Japan to live there while they doted on my siblings. I lived on the streets of Japan until I met two old friends of mine. I can’t say I’m still friends with them, but at the time they helped me get a roof over my head and some food. Eventually they even got me in school, I left though, I headed back home to my parents. And although I didn’t end up staying with them then, I did end up meeting my newest best friend.” Grian recounted, a bit melancholy and sadly. His tone shifted from the upbeat conversation to something a bit tired and morbid. 

The boy across him was silent, staring at the wooden picnic table. His fingers danced along the edges, while his legs bounced underneath him. “Parents aren’t supposed to abandon you.”

“Nope. No, they’re not.” Grian sighed, trying to give the boy a tiny smile.

“My parents didn’t abandon me.” The boy muttered.

Grian sighed, “Yeah?”

“They kind of just died.” He whispered.

“Oh.” Grian breathed out the air he’d been holding in. He wasn’t sure what he was hoping for. Maybe that the kid was just lost and needed a bit of help finding his server. Or maybe that the kid had a friend he could find and go to. Maybe that there was an admin out there searching for a player they’d lost. He didn’t want to comfort a kid who’d been abandoned, he wasn’t sure if he could, but he certainly didn’t know how to help a kid who’d been orphaned. 

“Yeah.” He whispered, his fingers twisting as he fiddled in place. “My mom was a bird. She was like you-had wings and feathers.” Grian felt a new pit grow in his stomach as he listened. This kid was an avian, or at least related to one. There was a long list of new terrible things that Grian was aware of since the kid had obviously been out on the streets for a while. 

The kid didn’t have wings yet, meaning that once the kid did manifest he wouldn’t have either parent there to help him. He’d be left alone and imprint on the first person he sees on the street. There wouldn’t be anyone to teach him how to care for his wings properly or even himself once he got old enough. 

Avian’s weren’t supposed to care for themselves until they reached the age of twenty. Grian, of course, was an exception for multiple reasons that weren’t exactly correct but he dealt with it. Either way, Avian’s weren’t even supposed to be alone until they were about fifteen, and even then it could be a tricky situation. 

“You’re an avian?” Grian asked, the words forming before he could even think. 

The kid looked up from his fingers, he shrugged, “I think that’s the word, but I don’t really remember. Dad wasn’t a bird though. We lived on our own world and then the stupid hunters came in and ruined everything.” The boy pouted, angrily. “They killed them and I ran. I don’t really remember how I ended up here, but I know that my parents aren’t here anymore.”

Grian was silent, waiting to see if the kid would say anything else, “I’m sorry.”

The boy shrugged, “I don’t know.” He pulled his legs up to curl into a small ball on the bench. “I miss them, but it feels like it was a while ago so I don’t really care either.” He paused, before looking up to the older, “Is that bad?”

Grian was silent, he bit the inside of his lip, wondering how to respond. “I can’t really tell you how to grieve, kid.”

“Did you miss your parents?” He asked next. 

Grian took a sharp breath, “Well-I mean-that is a complicated question.” He stopped there hoping the kid wouldn’t make him elaborate. However, the younger blond jut stared at him waiting for him to continue, “I don’t know. I miss what they didn’t do, but I don’t think I miss them.”

“Oh,” The boy mumbled, slouching into his ball more, “I think I just miss them. Kind of like they just left and aren’t here with me but there somewhere else having fun without me.”

“I can’t speak for them, but I’m sure they’d miss you.” Grian whispered, hoping that it offered some kind of comfort.

“How did you deal with it?” The boy asked, randomly next. 

Grian paused, “Deal with what?”

“The loneliness.” He whispered, sadly.

And if that didn’t break Grian’s heart he was sure the next few minutes would. The pit in his stomach was growing more than it had when he first saw the kid. He shivered, remembering the long nights in the Japan alleyways waiting for the day things would turn around. He kind of wished he had just walked away, just gone somewhere else rather than staying in Japan. 

“I don’t know if I’m the best person to answer that.” Grian replied, remembering the day he met Taurtis and Sam. The day he just wished never happened sometimes. On bad nights he’d rather deal with the loneliness than live through highschool again. 

“You’re all I’ve got.” He mumbled back, shrugging.

Grian sighed, “I guess, all I can say is hold onto to what you do have.”

The boy sat in silence for a moment, just staring at Grian, his eyes glancing over the avian. The boy sighed, pushing himself from the bench. Grian almost thought the kid was through, that he’d gotten what he wanted and was going to leave now. But then the younger walked around the table, until he was standing right in front of the older-and he hugged him. 

Grian flinched at the sudden feeling of tiny arms around him, as the younger hugged him. 

He wasn’t too sure what to do.

“What-What are you doing?” He asked, looking down at the blond hair below him that was tightly hugging his waist. 

The boy didn’t let go just looked up at him and spoke, “You’re what I have.”

“Oh…”Grian mumbled, as the kid hugged him again. He wasn’t sure when the last time someone actually hugged him. Maybe it was Mumbo before he left for Evo. Or maybe Jimmy when he saw him again? Grian lifted his hand above the boy’s head just patting it in a way he wasn’t sure was comforted or patronizing.

He got his answer when the kid hugged him tighter, pressing his nose into his sweater. 

“Are you going to come back again?” The kid asked, his voice muffled. Grian froze at the prominent question. He wasn’t too sure what the answer was. He still had a whole server to look after and the Watchers were making him more and more nervous as things escalated. Still though, he couldn’t just leave this kid. 

“Do you want me to?” Grian asked, looking down at the boy below him.

“Yeah” The boy whispered, like the answer would get him in trouble. 

Grian nodded, his mind made up, “I will.”

“My names Tommy.”

Grian realized then that he’d found someone he couldn’t disappear from. There was no way he was going to be able to disappear from this kid’s life. Not after he’d jut entered it.

_______________________________________

It became routine from there. Once, maybe even twice a week, Grian was meeting up with Tommy and spending the afternoon with him. Grian hadn’t told anyone in his server about his secret meeting with the younger but they didn’t really need to know. He never had any reason to tell them why he was disappearing for the afternoon. They always just assumed it was some admin business or something that would help him relax from the stress that had come with dealing with the Watcher’s lately. 

Neither of them really realized until halfway through another month of their meetings how healthy it had proven to be for the both of them. 

Grian was gaining back the moments he’d missed out own, by giving them to Tommy who’d never had the chance to have them. 

Grian wasn’t sure when the shift happened, but at some point he stopped seeing Tommy as just some kid he’d found. He stopped seeing him as a orphan that he was giving back to. He stopped seeing him as a curiosity, but just as one of his players that he was in charge off. And from there that feeling only escalated. 

Tommy was hopping along the side walk, in a hopscotch pattern even though there was no game chalked on the ground. Still he was jumping along ahead of Grian as they walked down the lesser crowded streets. 

“You hungry, yet?” Grian asked, carefully watching their surroundings for anything that might trip the kid. It didn’t take a long time before the older avian was slightly more protective of the younger than he should’ve been. 

Tommy paused in his game for a moment, to look around and look back to Grian, “A little. Where’re we going?” He asked.

Grian shrugged, “You choose.” He said, nudging the kid as he passed him. 

Tommy grinned, thinking for a moment before deciding, “Can we go to the first place we went to. Like the first first time?”

Grian nodded, “Sure, why not?” He motioned for the kid to follow him and Tommy jumped along the path to follow. 

The two found there spot underneath the shade of the large oak tree, and Tommy sat down next to Grian at the picnic table. Grian handed over their regular order, before sitting down next to the kid and they watched the passer bys silently together. 

“What’do ya think about that one?” The now seven year old asked, pointing to a certain player who was distractedly walking down through the stalls. 

Grian hummed watching for a moment before shaking his head, “Nah, they might be distracted but they’re definitely anxious enough to notice if you stole from them. You gotta go for the ones that are so confident they are safe they let their guard down.”

Tommy nodded taking in the knowledge that Grian gave out so willingly and placing it in his back pocket for later. He ate more of his food pointing out the next target. 

“They’re from a modded server, right?” Tommy asked. 

Grian hummed, “It’s hard to tell.” He sighed, “I haven’t been to a normal server in a while, staying in the past for a while has its faults. I’ve got no idea what could be modded or was just added recently.” He paused, before looking at the younger beside him, “I doubt you have any idea either.” 

Tommy nodded, taking another bite, “Yeah.” Tommy was about to point out another player when an idea popped into his head, “Have you ever thought about going to the future?”

Grian’s brow furrowed, as he chuckled, “What?”

“You already invented backwards time travel, can you go forwards?” Tommy asked, standing up from his spot on the picnic table.

“I feel like those are two different things, neither of which are very…” He paused, thinking of the best words, “helpful.”

Tommy frowned, moving to the other side of the picnic table, “But then why are you doing it.” He plopped down on the other side, laying all the way back so he could stare up at the oak tree.

Grian frowned, “I’m not sure I can stop now that I’ve started…” he muttered, knowing it was all to close to the truth to say out loud to a seven year old. Tommy’s brow furrowed, confused but he shrugged the odd feeling off. 

“I’d want to time travel! I’d go to the future and I’d see what kind of big man I become. I’d see how awesome I am in the future and tell myself so.” He declared, staring at the sky above them. He turned his head over to face Grian, “What would you say?”

“To future me?” Grian clarified, then he shrugged, “I think I’d just question them.” He said, knowing exactly what questions he’d ask. He needed to know how to deal with Evo. How did he deal with the Watchers? They were getting out of control.

“I wanna question you.” Tommy declared once again, he sat up from his spot staring at Grian with a wide grin, “What are your siblings like?”

Grian raised an eyebrow at the change of subject but shrugged, used to Tommy randomness by now. “Why do you wanna know?”

“You always talk about the other players on your server. You’ve talked about Netty, and Taurtis, and Martyn, but you haven’t said anything about your siblings. Are they like you?” Tommy asked, looking at Grian with his head crooked to the side. 

Grian let out a breath of air as he thought, “I guess they’re a bit like me.”

“Did they get abandoned, too?” Tommy asked, out of the blue. It took one choked laugh from Grian and Tommy was apologizing. “Sorry! Sorry, was that rude? Did I just do a rude thing again?”

Grian laughed, taking no offense to it but finding it incredibly bold of the kid, “No. No, it’s fine. You’re fine, Tommy.” He calmed his laughter down as Tommy’s red face dissipated more. “And to answer your question no, they stayed with our parents. They didn’t even understand what as happening at the time.”

“What about now?” Tommy asked, laying his head on the table. 

“Well, there’s my older sister, Pearl. She’s a moth hybrid, not exactly an avian but close. She’s an incredible builder. And then there’s my twin, Jimmy. Although, I do love calling him Timmy to get on his nerves. He might not be the best at building but he loves telling stories. After I disappeared, Pearl figured out what happened and took Jimmy with her and they left. I met up with them again quite recently. I’m the admin of the server the three of us are on together. So I see them just about everyday.” Grian described.

“Are siblings fun?” Tommy asked.

“They make life interesting.” Grian chuckled. 

Tommy smirked, “I think I want a sibling.”

Grian laughed, “That’s-It’s a bit more complicated than that.”

Tommy shrugged. They were quiet again, Grian finishing his food as Tommy played with his fingers. There was something that had been nagging at Grian that had been there for a while. Ever since he’d found out the boy was an avian the same thing was itching at his skin.  

One of these day, Grian knew, Tommy would start gaining his avian instincts and parts. He’d start growing his wings, feathers would show up in his hair and he’d be imprinting on whoever walked into him on the wrong day. It was reckless to have the kid just roaming the streets of the main hub by himself at this point. But Grian wasn’t sure what else to do. Well, he wasn’t, he had an idea know. 

“Tommy, I need to ask you a question.” Grian said, Tommy lifted his head from the table and stared at Grian with his eyes a bit wider than normal. 

“Yeah?”

“I need you to take it completely seriously.” Grian said, and Tommy nodded, “How would you feel if I set you up a world you could stay in.” Grian blurted out. Tommy stared at him, confusion and worry marking his face. “It’d be completely safe, I swear.” Grian clarified, “You’d be fully able to leave and go as you want, but it would be yours. You could live there and it’d be your space.”

Tommy shuffled in his seat, “Why?”

Grian sighed, “Remember how we both agreed to be careful with strangers?” Tommy nodded, “It’d be safer. Safer than me checking in twice or once a week.” He let out a breath knowing he’d have to say it a some point, “You’re an avian, Tommy. You’re getting to the point where you’re going to get your wings.” Tommy froze, his whole body flinching at the thought. Grian bit his lip, nervousness eating at him, but he continued, “You need to be somewhere you feel safe when that happens. If you want it to happen here, then I can’t stop you, but I know that’s not healthy.”

Tommy was silent, his fingers twisting in his lap, as he stared down at his feet. “That means Imma imprint, right?”

Grian nodded, “I’m a little shocked you knew that, but yeah. You would, is there someone you’ve got in mind?”

Tommy was silent again, this time he didn’t speak.

Grian sighed, “It’s up to you want you do.”

“Would I go ‘Loopy from loneliness’,” Tommy repeated, mumbling.

Grian chuckled, remembering saying that to the boy months ago, “No.”

“Would you still come visit?” Tommy asked, hoping he knew the answer already.

“Yes, Tommy. I’d visit, nothing about this,” He pointed to the both of them, “would change. Not unless you wanted it to.”

“No!” Tommy almost yelled, snapping up in his seat, “No, I-you can keep coming.” Grian smiled, nodding, “Could you even do it?”

“Tommy, I’m an admin. It’s my job to create worlds for players.” Grian said, “The question is do you want me to?”

Tommy paused, before nodding silently.

“Okay,” Grian said. “I will.”

______________________________________________________

It took two weeks, but the world was created, and Grian was right there with him when he walked onto the world for the first time. 

Grian stayed a bit longer that day, helping the younger get set up and creating him a small starter house to stay in. There were a few rules that Grian set in place with the server though, it was peaceful meaning there were no mobs to spawn anywhere. Secondly, if something went wrong Tommy was to contact Grian on his comm as soon as possible. There were lots of others that Tommy was going to be sure to break the moment Grian left the server. 

However most of them, Tommy couldn’t argue with seeing as Grian was leaving a seven year old alone on a world without help. 

He could still be problem though. 

“And you swear to tell me if something happens? Even if it’s small?” Grian asked, about to leave the server back to Evo. Tommy nodded in front of him, behind him was the starter house Grian had built for him. 

“Promise!” He declared, hands on his hips, proudly. 

“And if your back starts hurting you’ll tell me?” He asked. Tommy nodded, “And you’ll-”

“Will you just go!” The kid yelled, stomping his foot, and pushing Grian away. “I’m fine! Go! Evo’s waiting!”

Grian huffed, “Alright, alright, I’ll be back next week at the latest.” Tommy nodded and Grian disconnected, before appearing on the Evo server seconds later. 

He was walking down his pathways to his empire when he was spotted by Pearl and Jimmy. 

“You were gone longer than normal.” Pearl said, crossed arms and glare fixated on the parrot hybrid. 

Grian yawned, faking his exhaustion. Even though he was in fact very tired, “Got caught up on something. I was busy.” 

“You’re keeping secrets.” Jimmy pointed out, eyes squinting at his brother. 

Grian blew a raspberry ignoring his brother’s look, “What? Nah, no secret here.”

“We called Mumbo. He said you weren’t there.” Pearl said, following Grian as he continued walking. Grian shrugged.

“Cause I wasn’t.” Grian said.

“But you also weren’t with any other admins either. And no one here asked you to run any errands.” Jimmy declared like a detective.

“I know.” Grian said, “I ran a few errands for myself.”

“What were those?” Pearl asked.

Grian sighed, “Look, there’s a few things that I have to do for myself every now and then. I don’t want to talk about it, okay?”

His siblings looked at each other before looking back at him. Jimmy sighed, his feet shuffling underneath his nervously, “You promise it’s nothing bad? You’re not-You’re not pulling away to disappear again, are you?”

Grian froze, shaking his head, “No. No, definitely not. I won’t-I don’t plan on doing that at all.” Grian said, hugging his torso, wings fluffing up at the thought of leaving his siblings again. 

The canary hybrid relaxed more, his shoulders releasing tension as he slouched forward and let out a breath, “Good.”

“Pearl?” Grian asked, hoping Pearl believed him. 

His sister just stared at him a bit more skeptical, “Okay.” She muttered, looking away.

____________________________________

Evo lasted three more weeks before everything went to hell. The story was told thousands of times afterwards. The Watchers destroyed the server, to interested in admin of the server and bored with the rest. The admin gave up his life to the Watchers to save his players. 

Even then the watchers still took one more of the players, and the listeners stole away two of their own. 

Everyone else died or disappeared without a trace.

And Grian…

Grian never showed back up on that world. 

He never came back to visit Tommy in his little single player starter home. And the kid grew up alone, until he finally gave up years later on waiting for him to come back. 

At eleven years old the boy left his safe bound server and went back to pick pocketing on the main hub. Until he found a flier for a new server, that was looking for players. The eleven year old still missed the only person who he really thought of as a father figure, but he moved on slowly. He took up the opportunity of a new server with people after he found the flier. 

He didn’t realize that it would be the worst mistake of his life.

Chapter Text

Scar wasn’t really sure what to do in this situation. 

Grian had no clue what he was doing. 

Standing in front of each other, Scar had a gun to the blond’s head. Sure, he might not know how to use the gun well, but it surely wasn’t that hard. To be fair though he hadn’t had to kill anything living just yet, and he definitely didn’t want to. 

Grian’s hands were raised in surrender as he tried to keep himself calm. His robes weren’t helping at all, with how they hindered most movement, he’d have no way of dodging if this guy did decide to shoot whatever was in his hand.

__________________________________________________

The one thing Grian wasn’t good at disappearing from were the Watchers. 

He’d tried, on multiple occasions to escape, to run away. Not once had any attempt worked. In fact they all ended with the same result, locked in a room with no concept of time and nothing to do. 

But it didn’t stop him. 

“Ready to behave now, Xelqua?” A Watcher asked, from outside of his locked room. 

Grian squirmed in the hold of the purple robes. His hands bound behind his back by purple and white ropes. “Go fuck yourself.” Tommy’s language might have rubbed off on him some.

“Disappointing. And here we thought you’d be happy to accept our generous offer.” The Watcher huffed, mockingly disappointed. 

“Only a psychopath with an ego problem would accept your terms.” Grian snapped back, “You’re a bunch of lying hypocritical-”

“That’s enough out of you.” The Watcher interrupted shutting off any connection Grian had with the outside world. The blond huffed, rather wanting to continue his rant. 

Grian had tried just about every way to get out of the deep void, he’d tried main portals, lesser portals, following the Watchers, flying to the nearest End, anything he could think of. What he hadn’t tried was teleporting. 

Which was a lot harder than he’d once thought.

Sure he’d figured out time travel, but teleportation was a completely different matter. He’d actually have to use a combination of his old admin powers and his newer Watcher ones. That was the hard part, he didn’t exactly know how to use his powers. 

The first step though was untying himself from the ropes around his hands. But the second he did alarms would sound off and the Watcher would be back, and he’d be back to square one all over again. 

So everything else would have to be fast. 

Luckily, he’d been planning this method for a while. His last try had been a simple game for himself, all he wanted to do was get supplies he’d need for his next try, he hadn’t actually tried escaping. He’d made it look like it, sure, but there was no need to actually step foot into the deep void just yet. 

He could feel the Watcher’s eyes on him even as he was stuck in the room. They were constantly keeping at least one eye on him in case he tried anything. He wondered why they hadn’t given up already. But there was one moment when he didn’t feel that itch of being watched by different eyes above him. There was one tiny silver second he could use.

The second he didn’t feel that itch anymore he was moving. His hand that had been buried into his pocket of the purple robes, gripped the single sharp thing he had. It was just a single shard from a broken portal he’d found. He cut through the ropes in a single swipe the portal shard helping cut through the cloth. 

He snapped his hands in front of him, and could feel the itch immediately tighten around him. They’d noticed.

He ignored the pain in the back of his head that was the Watcher screaming at him in incoherent speech. He just focused on finding another server to look into. All he had to do was find a server that didn’t have protections against the Watcher’s sight but enough that they wouldn’t dare travel into it. 

Honestly, it was easier to do than he thought. 

He found a server that the Watcher’s had taken sight off already. It wasn’t too hard, but they’d never tried to interfere with it. He took his chance and latched on to it as the screaming in his head got louder with the Watcher’s closing in on him. 

Then in a split moment he was gone. 

____

“Who are you?” There was a voice behind him, but it wasn’t speaking galactic. It wasn’t a voice he recognized or one he thought he remembered. 

Grian almost cheered for himself, celebrating his escape. Almost being the key word. His body ached from the stretch against worlds, not to mention the bruises and cuts that didn’t seem to hurt in the end were a lot more intolerable on a normal server. He was exhausted from little to no sleep for weeks on end and he wasn’t to sure if he could move his limbs. 

But the most important reason for his delayed celebration was the cold feeling of something pressed against the back of his head. 

He didn’t have time for second thoughts before, he felt eyes open behind him and he was staring at the player behind him without even looking at him. The player couldn’t see the eyes but Grian knew they were there, knew they were Watching the player’s every move. 

The player had brown hair that was longer in the back and slightly pulled back. He had snow goggles on his head and a green scarf around his neck. There was a brown backpack hanging off of his shoulder where his arm was bandaged up haphazardly. He had a brown jacket wrapped around himself covering a white t-shirt that was ripped and sewn together. There were patches of random fabrics on his pants and jacket, that didn’t match the color at all. 

Probably the most distinctive parts about him were the scars that lined his face and body. He had a large scar that stretched from the top of his forehead to the crease of his frown. Another scar reached across his cheek to the bridge of his nose. He had a nasty bruise on the side of his face that crossed to his neck hidden by the green scarf. 

However, he stood completely still, wide eyed, staring at Grian with his gun raised to the back of his head. 

Grian wasn’t too sure how the player had gotten their hands on a gun unless this was a modded server with more modern weapons. He remembered being in highschool and dealing with the shootouts and mob fights. 

And although Grian could tell the player behind him was in no state of mind to actually shoot him, he still raised his hands up in surrender. 

He showed the player his hands, the purple robes falling off his wrists to show his arms that were painted in bruises and scars like the other. 

He saw the odd look the player gave him one of pity and slight worry, before he switched back to a stoic blank face. His grip on the gun twitching for a moment but it didn’t last long. 

“I’m not-I’m not asking again.” The guy muttered, trying to sound strong and firm but ultimately failing. 

“Don’t shoot, okay?” Grian asked, trying to turn his head jut a bit to actually see the player himself rather than watch him. 

“You’re alive?” They asked, a bit shocked, Grian heard a footstep as they took a step away. “How-How are you alive? Wait-no-why-why shouldn’t I shoot? I don’t know you.”

“Exactly. Why shoot when you don’t know?” Grian tried to reason, it was his only option to reason with. 

The guy paused, thinking of some response, “Saves me from a lot of problems.” He answered. The guy huffed, dropping his gun down a tad so it wasn’t raised to shoot but prepared in case of emergencies, “Turn-turn around.” He ordered.

Grian nodded, gladly turning to face the player rather than having to watch with insightful eyes he didn’t want. He turned and faced the player, hands still raised above him. His wings twitched and the player's eyes darted to the two limbs that hung off his back. Confusion crossed his face, but the player didn’t say anything. 

The brunet’s eyes glanced over him searching for something that he wasn’t finding, to his own despair or happiness Grian wasn’t sure. 

All he knew was that he quite literally looked like he’d escaped some prison. 

The blond’s hair was dirtied and muddy with blood that seeped from a cut just above his forehead. He knew he was malnourished and sickly looking, he knew the bruises underneath his eyes. He could feel the scrapes, bruises and cuts on his arms and torso that were slowly crippling his form from standing straight. 

He knew it was odd to see some player appear in front of you, let along one with two large purple wings and purple robes that stretched down all the way to the floor. 

“How’d you get in here?” The man asked, choosing to ignore the oddity in front of him. 

Grian didn’t exactly have an answer for that one. He didn’t think it’d seem like a true answer if he answered honestly. “How do you think?” He asked, trying to seem  confident but was truly looking for an answer. 

The man glared back at him, gun raised once again, “Why do you think I’m asking you! I have no idea! And if you think you’re being smart by not saying, I can tell you know we’ll both be dead in seconds!” The guy spouted off, eyes dancing around the room they were in looking for any cracks or entrances he’d not seen. 

Grian took the chance to look around the room himself. 

He was stuck in a room with this guy, there was only one door and it was blocked off with an old chair that was holding back whatever was outside. The room itself was ruined beyond repair, holes in the ceiling that gave way to the building’s support system. There were tables and desks that lined the room. The notebook and desk items were covered in dust and cobwebs. 

The walls were filled with cracks and mold that gave the room an odd smell. The floor looked like it was about to give in, as the tiles upturned. The walls weren’t decorated or at least if they were, they would all be long gone or fallen to the floor. There was only one window in the room, and Grian could see they were up on at least the third or fourth floor of the building. 

“Well?” The guy asked, eyes firm on him. 

“Ceiling.” Grian blurted out. 

“What?” The guy started, his gun dropping to his side as he looked up confused. “How? That-”

“The support systems run throughout the building.” Grian continued, lying as quickly and smartly as he could, “I got into the vents and they led to this room. I didn’t realize you were in here.” 

“Great.” He muttered, staring at the holes in the ceiling. The guy holstered his gun, and tore out a large piece of rolled up paper from his backpack and unfurled it. “Just another thing about this place I don’t know.” He muttered, laying out the paper along one of the old desks and taking a pencil from his pocket drawing lines along the paper. 

Grian’s brow furrowed, this guy actually believed him, when he literally had the blueprints for the building! 

“You actually believe me.” He muttered, under his breath shocked. 

The guy looked back from his paper, “Are you lying?” He asked, cringing with a confused look. 

Grian shook his head, “No. Nope.” He said quickly. The guy nodded, looking back to the blueprints. Grian looked over his shoulder trying to see what he could. 

“Do you think we could go back the way you came?” The guy asked, looking back to Grian. 

Grian stiffened, shaking his head, “No, it’s too cramped…and easy to get lost.” 

He huffed, “Great. Okay,” he muttered, rolling up the paper and shoving back to his pack. He started pacing the room, his finger tapping on his chin. 

Grian shuffled in his spot, “Are you-are you still thinking about shooting me?”

The guy stopped, turning to him for a moment, “Should I?” he asked, his head tilted as if genuinely asking. Then he shivered, “Sorry, that was kind of rude. Besides, we’re both stuck in here.” He muttered, hugging his torso.

Grian froze, “What do you mean?”

“I mean there are zombies outside that door and there’s no way we can get out through the window, we’re seven stories up. And you just threw out the ceiling idea.” The man said, before flopping down into one of the office chairs. The wheels on the chair made him roll a bit, before he stopped it. 

Grian looked over to the door, seeing that the armchair was definitely being pushed by some brute force on the other side. The door slowly bending in on itself as whatever was outside fought to get in. 

“Zombies?” Grian asked, taking a quick step back. He remembered having to deal with zombies from Evo but they never acted like this. 

“Yeah,” The brunet said as if it was obvious.

“Why not just fight?” Grian asked, surely this guy had a weapon. He literally had a gun!

“Are you serious?” The brunet scoffed, “Those guys will knock you dead in two hits!” He held up two fingers. “I can deal with a few but there's a full hoard out there! Not to mention the doors trapped.”

Grian looked from the man lounging in the chair to the door. He could see at the bottom of the door, the signs of a standard trap. The moment the door opened an explosion would hit and the whole room would go up in smoke. 

He shook his head, “Then how’d you get in here?” Grian said, exasperated. 

“It wasn’t trapped when I got in here.” The guy said, shrugging like there was nothing left to do. 

Grian looked between the door and the guy, “Did you trap the door!”

 He shouted. 

The man snapped up from the chair, “Keep your voice down!” He whisper-shouted, standing from his chair and moving to shush the parrot hybrid. “You’re gonna get more zombies up here.”

Grian scoffed, “You’re already gotten us both killed so why should I care!” He snapped back, voice quieter but still angry. 

The guy rolled his eyes, “Look I wasn’t expecting another person!”

“So you were just going to trap yourself in here with no way out, likely killing yourself in the process!” Grian fumed. The guy groaned, turning away from Grian and running a scarred hand through his hair. 

“There was supposed to be another exit in here!” He shouted, he fumbled with his back on his injured shoulder and pulled out the map with a wounded wince. He shoved the map into Grian’s hands. Grian opened it and looked himself to see the full blueprints of the building they were in. “Seventh floor.” the guy informed. 

Grian looked and traced his way to the room they were in, the brunet pointed to the room they were in. Grian huffed, “You’re a room off. Does this look like a supply closet!” Grian motioned around them. 

“I was getting chased by a hoard! I wasn't exactly concerned about supply closets!” He shouted back. 

Grian shoved the blueprints back to the brunet, “What’s your plan?”

“At the moment…” He muttered, “I don’t have one.”

“Are you kidding me?” Grian spun to face the brunet. “So what, you just give up?” 

The man shrugged, falling back into the chair once again, “I’ve been going for a while. If this is what gets me, then…well, It’s been rough.” He sat down, the chair spinning with him in it. 

Grian sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I did not escape the watchers to deal with this.” He muttered under his breath. He shook his head, looking around the room. He walked over to the trap, kneeling in front of it and looking at the way it worked. 

Grian could feel the eyes of the other on him as he searched his trap. Grian huffed, he looked around the room eyes landing on the pack that his unfortunate roommate had. Specifically on the rope that was hanging loose from the open end. “Give me your rope.”

“What?” He asked, looking at Grain’s outstretched hand with a disgusted look, “Why?”

“I’m getting us out of here.” Grian said, easily. “If I get us out of here will you not shoot me?”

The guy looked him up and down waiting for something, he sighed, moving to grab his rope. He unhooked it from his pack and handed it over, “Haven’t yet, have I?”

Grian took the rope and walked back over to the door. He tied one end of the rope over the doorknob. He grabbed one of the thicker folders from the desk and started slipping it in between the crack of the wall and the door. The man watched as he picked the lock so it was easy to open with a small tug. 

“What are you going to do?” He asked, leaning forward on the chair as he watched, slightly interested. 

“I’m going to detonate it.” Grian muttered, 

“What!” He shouted, standing up, “You’re going to get us killed!”

“You didn’t sound so appalled a second ago.” Grian shrugged, pushing the armchair from the door a bit. He threw the none tied end of the rope to the man. “Just get behind something, and you’ll be fine.”

The man frowned, but took the rope end and ducked behind a table. Grian moved the chair to where he was happy with it, seeing the door bend with the weight of zombie’s pressed against it. But the chair was in the way just enough so the door wouldn’t turn open. 

He ran away from the chair, ducking beside the brunet man, and overturning the table in front of them. The he snatched the rope away from the other, and yanked before he had any second thought. 

The room erupted in a cloud of smoke and ash as the tnt went off with the first footstep of a zombie on the pressure plate. The man beside him covered his ears as he shut hit eyes tightly. Grian shut his eyes but waited for the explosive sound. When they heard and felt the boom go off, both of them were surrounded with a room of smoke, ash, blood and debris. 

A second after the explosion, a sound Grian was familiar with from his time on the evo server and in highschool, he popped up to look at his work. Before him was a scene to gorey for him mind to comprehend, rather than be reminded of highschool shootouts. Still he grinned as he shot up, patting himself down. 

“It worked!” He cheered, a grin widely spreading on his face.

The brunet peeked over the overturned table, eyes dancing around the room, before patting himself down. “How? I’m-I’m alive. You’re alive. We’re alive!” He chuckled, remotely. 

Grian looked down to the brunet, with a grin, “Yeah!”

The other man stood up more, about to break into a smile, when he spotted something just behind Grian. His eyes widened and his face paled as he quickly unholstered his gun and shot. 

Grian had half the mind to duck a tad when he saw the swift movements that meant someone was about to shoot. He ducked, just barely missing the shoot as it grazed his ear and landed in the head of a zombie. He looked behind himself to see the zombie fall to the ground.

“What the f-” He was cut off by the brunet grabbing his wrist and pulling him away from the table. The brunet was running now, pulling him along by the wrist, his other hand holding his gun at the ready as he aimed to shoot any zombie he saw. 

Grian was being pulled along the hallways, and all he could do was watch as what looked like a movie played out in front of him. 

Zombie’s, ones that didn’t look like the ones he’d seen on evo or even another singleplayer, but looked like they had once been actual people. The zombies were rotting, and still wearing the clothes they used to wear when they were alive. They were slowly chasing after them, and each time one popped up a little too close the brunet was shooting it. 

Grian saw as the man who he'd thought two seconds before was some idiot who he had no idea had survived this long, was suddenly murdering zombie’s like it was easy. 

The guy pulled him to the nearest stairwell, and they started running up the stairs. Grian had to work to not trip on the robes that were becoming more and more of an inconveniences. 

“You got a reason for that outfit?” He asked, puffing out air as they ran up the stairs. Grian had to stay silent to keep up with the guy, who was surprisingly good at running up stairs two at a time. 

Grian wasn’t sure what story the brunet stopped going up, but at some point he dragged him into a new hallway. Sharp bangs were going off as the brunet was shooting the zombies. 

The other dragged him into a new room, shoving him inside before pulling a large plank from the wall and boarding up the door. Grian stood frozen in the middle of the room, staring at the man in front of him. 

The brunet was sliding the plank across the doorknobs, jumping back at the sound of zombies banging against the door. He holstered his gun and took a breath, leaning over himself as he caught his breath. 

Grian was catching his breath as he stared at the man, “How-How are you that good of a shot?”

The guy looked up at him through brown hair that hung over his eyes, “Huh? Oh, yeah, it’s been a couple years. Guess I’ve gotten used to it. Did you get scratched? Bit? Anything?”

Grian looked himself over, patting his arms down. “No.” He shook his head. 

The man sighed, nodding, “Good.” There was a rather large bang from behind them making them both jump. The brunet shook his head, “We should go.”

Grian looked around the room, “Go where? You've gotten us up higher than before.”

The brunet walked past the blond, pulling a desk away from one wall to where it was lined up against an open window. There was a wooden plank connecting the window to the roof of the building across from them. The brunet, shook the boad, making sure it wasn’t rotted out. 

“Come on.” He motioned, for Grian to follow, as he stepped up onto the desk and crawled through the window. He stood on the plank carefully, still holding onto the windowsill as he let the board test his weight. 

He took another step out, so he was fully over the ten floor drop. 

“Are you crazy!” Grian shouted, looking out over the window.

The other man stared at him with a blank look, “I do this all the time, it’s fine.”

“Are you sure that’s safe?” He asked.

The green eyed man looked down, before looking back to the avian, “Would you believe me if I said yes?”

“Not anymore.” Grian snapped back.

The other sighed, before hopping on the plank a little, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “I’m good, see. Now, come on, that plank isn’t going to hold for long. You don’t want to be stuck in the room when they break through.”

Grian looked behind him, biting the inside of his mouth. Concern plain on his face. 

“Come on, there’s not another option, man.” He continued. 

Grian shook his head, “Yeah, no, there’s definitely another option.” He stood up on the desk, unfolding his wings from his sides to spread out. He flapped them some, getting used to feeling of air under his feathers again. Then he jumped.

“What the he-!” The brunet screamed, before the parrot hybrid was flying across the ten story drop to the next building. 

The brunet watched in awe and slight fear as the avian flew across and landed graceful on the next building. 

Grian stood tall on the other side of the plank, brushing himself off as he looked over to the man still over the ten story drop. Grian chuckled awkwardly as he looked at the wide eyed stare the other was giving him. 

“What the heck was that?” He asked, walking over the plank with his arms out to keep balance. He jumped off the very last part, meeting up with the blond, “Do you have a jetpack or something?”

“What?” Grian asked, his wings twitching behind him as the man started looking at them closer now. The man was circling him curious about the appendages on his back. “No, they’re-they’re wings.”

“I didn’t think avian’s could fly.” He said, confused. 

“Of course, we can fly.” Grian scoffed, “I’m surprised you even know about avians.” Grian said, halfway suspecting the man would take offense to it. Only, the man just shrugged. 

“Makes sense.” He said, “They’re aren’t a lot of hybrids around in the apocalypse, but I know they exist.” Grian watched as the man spoke, he noticed the slight twitch of his fingers. Oddly, though, Grian could see a slight glint of blue in the brunet’s green eyes. “Come on, there’s a door into the building over here, we can get out from here.”

Grian nodded, ignoring what he’d seen and just following the other to the door. Grian watched as the brunet pulled out a crowbar and opened the door with a grunt. They walked side by side into the building, the brunet holding his gun up ready to shoot if need be. Grian stood by his side, watching for any movement. 

Once they were down to the sixth floor of the building, the brunet spoke again. 

“You still haven’t said why you’re wearing that.” He whispered, not even looking at the blond, keeping his focus on the open doorways. 

“Doesn’t seem like it should be any problem to you.” Grian whispered, rather liking to keep his secrets secret. 

The guy shrugged, “Just seems like an odd choice for the apocalypse. Is it religious?” He asked, pressing his back to the wall as he checked the inside of the room, and raided whatever he could from the drawers and chests. 

“Look, let’s just say that the second I can change I will.” Grian spat, raising his arms to show how large the sleeves of his robe were. 

The guy just chuckled, “Yeah, can’t say I blame you. You look like a purple teddy bear.” He poked.

Grian rolled his eyes, “Behind you.” He whispered, pointing to the other side, where a zombie was roaming the room lazily. The brunet’s light smile and crinkled eyes darkened and he nodded. 

He raised his gun to the zombie’s head, he carefully and quietly aimed, before pulling the trigger. The zombie fell to the ground but continued moving, this time towards them. The brunet shot again this time, the zombie froze on the ground, dead.

“I really don’t like how good you are at that.” Grian muttered.

The other smiled, cockily, “Aw, come on, don’t tell me you’re a pacifist?”

Grian rolled his eyes, “Couldn’t be farthest from the truth, just not a fan of guns or atleast when people are a good shot.” They walked through another floor.

The brunet opened the door to the stairwell, motioning for Grian to go first and bowing mockingly. 

Grian huffed, walking through causing the other to laugh. 

“You know you do kind of look like a princess.” He chuckled, closing the door behind them. 

“Say that again and I’ll take that gun from you.” Grian snapped, causing the man to raise his arms in surrender. 

“Okay,” He chuckled, the man rolled his shoulder that held the backpack the bandage moving. He winced, quietly, hopping the blond wouldn’t hear. However, Grian’s hearing was exceptionally good.

“Your shoulder is injured.” He said, as they walked down the stairwell. 

He nodded, “I’m aware.” He straightened his bag on his shoulder. 

“Why are you wearing the strap on that arm then?” Grian asked, pointing it out. 

“The other isn’t any better.” He muttered.

“Oh,” Grian muttered, they both were quiet until they were on the ground floor. 

The brunet grabbed his crowbar and slammed the door open. He raised his gun prepared for any zombies on the other side. “How’d you hurt it?” Grian asked, as they walked through the building’s ground floor.

The brunet was quiet, “Fell.”

They were both silent. The brunet prepared for laughter from the other, but Grian just nodded. “You’re not going to laugh.”

“Why would I?” He asked, “Please, I’ve done way dumber.”

The brunet smiled, and nodded, before his steps picked up pace as he grinned, “That’s our exit!” He said, pointing to two double doors that led out to the outside world. 

The brunet made a run for the door, and Grian had to chase after the other to keep up. He pushed on the side of the door with his hip, opening the door with a loud noise and dragging Grian out by his wrist once again. 

The other slammed the door shut behind them, sighing out loudly as he leaned against the door. He chuckled, “Oh, we did it!”

“Yeah…” Grian sighed, reminding himself that this was real. He;d escaped the Watcher’s just to get trapped in another hell. “We did something.”

The brunet had his eyes shut as he let himself catch his breath for a second. Then he shook his head, standing up straight. “Alright.” he let out another breath, “We should get out of the open.” 

Grian nodded, staring off straight ahead his mind somewhere else. 

The brunet looked around, holstering his gun and pulling out a different map from his bag. He wasn’t paying attention to the blond, as he pulled out his compass and started tracking a path back to his base. 

He pocketed everything, before starting to walk off. Grian stayed perfectly still unsure if he should follow after the brunet or stay put. He hadn’t been invied to join the other, but if he stayed alone he surely would die, and according to whatever code was set up in this world it was Hardcore. There was only one life he had here. 

Grian looked around, before his attention was caught by the sound of a whistle to his right. He looked over to see the brunet was standing a bit of a ways away. He was standing still, waving in his direction with a grin.

“You coming?” He called after the blond.

Grian’s brow furrowed, “Do you want me to?” He asked.

“You haven’t tried to kill me yet, and you’re the first alive person I’ve seen in years. I’d be stupid to let you leave.” He smiled, nodding in the direction he was heading, “I’ve got a base a little while out. It used to be a military base, but its got lots of useful stuff. And I can’t promise, but I can say I might have some different clothes that don’t make you look like a purple teddy bear.” He shrugged, “But it’s up to you.”

Grian bit his lip, before nodding, “Yeah. Okay, just for a bit.” he determined. 

The other man nodded, “Got it.” Grian walked up to him, realizing now how much shorter he was than the brunet. “Name’s Scar by the way.”

“Grian.” 

_________________

It turned out that Scar’s base was surrounded by tall fences. There were three larger buildings, two of which were crumbled and destroyed beyond repair. The last looked to be the only safe option for entry. 

Luckily there weren’t many zombies surrounding the area due to the fact it had been routinely cleaned out by Scar or the military beforehand. 

Scar led Grian over to the entrance of the fence, a blocked off gate. Scar pulled the larger plank away from the gate, and had to use his whole side to push open the gate with a loud bang. 

“It’s a lot better than when I first found it.” He mentioned, as he pushed the gate open more. Grian nodded, unsure of what to say. He just walked through the gate, and Scar slammed it shut behind them, locking the gate back. 

Scar huffed, turning back to Grian with a shaky grin. “The middle building is the most structurally sound.” Scar pointed to the building still standing, “I’ve had to reinforce it a few times but it's still standing.”

Grian nodded, walking towards the building and seeing the door was broken off its hinges. 

Scar walked up behind him, “The gate keeps most of them out, and the doors have a tricky way of caving in.”

“Right.” Grian mumbled.

“Oh! You wanted some different clothes, right?” Scar asked, rushing forward and hopping around Grian before running inside. Grian didn’t even get a chance to speak before the guy had run into a different room. 

Grian looked around the first room. There were cabinets lining one wall, some were open or cracked. The top cabinets had lost their doors and Grian could see the little food left inside. There were cereal boxes, protein bars and a few bottles of water but not a lot else. Grian frowned, he remembered his own kitchen being filled with food during his time on evo just in case anyone needed something. He couldn’t imagine how this guy had survived this long. 

He turned to see a wooden chair in the corner, and an end table next to it with a few medical supplies stored below. There were a few weapons piled near the doorway haphazardly and a long wooden table that looked to be used as a crafting bench. There were a few furnaces near the table, none were lit. 

All around the room looked rather sad, cobwebs, cracks, mold and dirt surrounded jut about every piece of the room. 

As Grian looked around, Scar walked back down the stairs and into the room standing in the doorway. He was holding something folded up nicely in his arms and a tired, shaky smile on his face. 

“I really don’t know if this will be okay or not, but it’s all I’ve got right now.” He muttered, staring at the clothes rather than looking at Grian who he knew was judging the situation. 

Grian turned around, snapping his head towards the sound, he took a moment to relax before speaking, “I’m pretty desperate, actually.” He shrugged, taking a step forward, he held out his hands for the clothes, “These didn’t happen to come from any of those zombies, right?”

Scar cringed, “No. Gross, no,” He shook his head, “No, these are just some older clothes I had from…before. You’re-You’re a bit shorter than me, so it might not be the best.” He said, trying not to laugh as he looked down at the shorter. 

Grian rolled his eyes, “Yeah, just give it over.” He took the clothes away from the brunet before he could break into a chuckle anymore. 

“There’s a-” Scar cut himself off when Grian was already out the room and the door was closed behind him. Scar frowned, but shook off the cold shoulder moving back to his cabinets for any food.

He pulled down two cereal boxes, hoping there was still enough left inside. 

Grian hadn’t meant to shut the door so quickly on the other, but it had happened nonetheless. He set the clothes down next to him, prepared to just rip the purple robes off while he had the chance. He grimaced at the sight of the robes in his hands once he’d pulled them off. 

Grian picked up the pants that had been laid out, the brunet was right in saying they might not fit. The cargo shorts had to be tied at the side to stay in place, how he was more malnourished than the man literally living in an apocalypse he had no clue. Neither of them were healthy that was for sure, but neither of their situations looked healthy in Grian’s eyes. 

The shorts fell down to below his knees, and showed off the bruises and scrapes that marred his skin. He pulled the white tee shirt over his head, not before clipping slits into the back for his wings. He still had to tie the shirt as well, the end falling a bit too far down than he’d like. Luckily, though, the shirt was long sleeved and hid away most of the scars on his arms. 

He walked out of the room, seeing the brunet inspecting two cereal boxes with a concerned expression. Grian huffed, announcing his presence, which made the other man jump a bit. 

“Sorry, yeah, still not used to other people being around.” He joked, setting the cereal box down, “Do you-do you want to eat something?”

Grian shrugged, his arms full of the robes that had been on him “Is there enough?”

The brunet shrugged, “For tonight, yeah.” He handed the other cereal box over to the blond. Grian set his robes down on the counter, taking the cereal box. He frowned looking inside, unsure about eating it or not. 

Scar however, took the chance to pour a bit into his hands and eat it dry. Grian watched, waiting for a notion that it was fine for him to take a bit. Scar gave him a small glance to the side, a bit confused, that made Grian pour a bit of his own out. 

“What do you want to do about those now?” Scar asked, pointing to the robes on the counter. Grian shrugged.

“Honestly? Burn them.” He grumbled, glaring at the robes, absentmindedly running his hands along the scars on his arms that were a bit too exposed. Scar stole a glance at his motions, taking in the scars that were etched into his forearms and wrists. 

Scar nodded, “Okay.” He shrugged.

Grian looked back quickly, “Seriously? You’re just okay with that?” He asked.

“It’s not my stuff.” He shrugged, “Plus, I already have an area I’ve been burning stuff out back.” He looked past Grian to the door past him that was open, “Probably best to wait for daylight though, we burn that and it’ll get a bunch of zombies interested in the smoke and light.”

Grian nodded, taking in as much information as he could about this world. 

“They really do act like moths, you know. Always going after whatever shines and sparkles in their eyes.” Scar chuckled, hugging his arms awkwardly. 

Grian frowned, “How long have you been doing this?”

The guy scoffed, “How long have you?” He asked, “I really don't think there are two different starting dates for the apocalypse.” He smiled.

Grian stiffened, realizing how poorly he’d worded his question. He sighed, he set the box of cereal down. “Yeah, stupid question.”

“You should eat more.” Scar said, nodding back to the box of cereal. 

“I’m fine.” Grian shook his head, “Don’t want to ruin your supplies. You should savor your supplies more.”

He shrugged, “Run into that bridge when I get there.” He muttered, “Seriously, though, you look like you’re about to faint.”

“It’s been a long day.” Grian muttered. 

Scar huffed, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, learning there’s an apocalypse can do that to you.” He said, waving off the conversation as he pushed himself from the counter. Grian stiffened again.

“What?” Grian asked, as Scar moved around him and sat down in the wooden chair. The guy was peeling off his boots, ignoring Grian. “How-What are you implying?” Grian said, pointing a finger at him as he took a step forward. 

The brunet looked up from his boots as Grian approached, “Look, man, I don’t know who you think you’re fooling? You’re not from here. There’s no chance. You didn’t know about the zombies. You show up out of nowhere claiming you got into that building through the vents? I can tell you right now, those vents are infected with viruses and fungus that’d kill you. You’re walking around in robes like a cultist with two giant wings out, with barely any armor to protect you. You’re asking to die, and yet you’ve got more trying to survive with more confidence than you should have. You’re like a-like a oxy-oxygen-ox-”

“Oxymoron?” Grian offered, raising an eyebrow as the man tried to continue his explanation. 

“Thank you.” He muttered, continuing. “You didn’t even have an excuse as to where you were going after we got out of that building.”

“Where are you going with this?” He asked.

Scar sighed, sinking into his chair, “I don’t know where you came from, but it’s not from here. I’m not gonna ask you to tell me where, just stop pretending. It’ll make it easier for the both of us.”

“Fine.” Grian snapped, “No, I’m not from here.”

The brunet grinned, jumping in his seat to sit on edge, “How? How is that possible?”

“I thought you weren’t going to ask questions.” Grian huffed, crossing his arms. Scar shrugged, leaning back. 

“I said, I wouldn’t ask about where, never said I wouldn’t ask anything else.” He said, cockily. 

“Look, I just don’t want to talk about it.” Grian muttered, looking away from the brunet. 

Scar blew out air, blowing brown hair from his eyes, “Well, you chose the wrong place to come to. I don’t think an apocalypse would be on my vacation list.” He said, snarkily. 

“It was not a vacation.” Grian fumed, wings puffing up at the indignation. Scar stared at the wings for a minute a bit amused. 

“You’re right, sorry, not a vacation. You’re now trapped here, too.” Scar said, leaning his arm across his chair. 

“I am not trapped here.” Grian snapped, fingers clenched at his sides, as his wings puffed up more behind him. His eyes earning a tiny glint of purple and feathers dipping into void for a split second. 

Grian’s words caused Scar to jolt, he turned to face the blond eyes a bit wider, “What do you mean you’re not trapped.” His eyes suddenly serious and no longer teasing and joking.

Grian paused, the purple in his eyes leaving just as quick as it had appeared, “I’m-I’m not entirely sure. I don’t think I’m trapped. I think I can still leave.”

Scar frowned, “But you’re not sure.”

Grian looked at his hands, a light purple hue spreading across his fingers that dusted the tips of his fingers like sparkles, “Not yet.”

Scar sighed, the tiny sliver of hope that had planted in him being crushed within seconds. “Right, well, till you are sure, you’ve got two choices. Either you’re stuck with me, or you can try your darndest to survive out there.”

“Shoot.” Grian murmured, almost cursing under his breath. 

Scar laughed, causing Grian to turn towards him. He almost felt embarrassed as Scar heard him.

“I’m not that insufferable, am I?” He chuckled. 

Grian bit the inside of his cheek, “Sorry.”

Scar shook his head, “Nah, I get it. Stay with a guy you don’t know or try and survive by yourself is a tough decision. I know I wouldn’t want to make it.”

“You invited me here.” Grian stated staring at his feet. 

“I did.” Scar nodded.

“Why?” Grian asked.

“Honestly?” Scar started, “I’m lonely. There aren’t really a lot of options for making friends in the apocalypse.”

“You don’t want me as a friend.” Grian muttered, reminding himself of the many people he’d left over the years: Pearl, Jimmy, Sam, Taurtis, Mumbo, Martyn, Evo, Tommy…Tommy.

“I don’t really have a lot of options.” Scar tried to smile, before he decided to bite the bullet and just try his chances, he held out his hand. “Partners?”

Grian glanced at the hand extended to him. A pit was in his stomach. He couldn’t give this guy false hope of having a friend in such a desperate situation then just disappear on him. He’d never forgive himself- not that he’d forgiven himself for the others.

Still he couldn’t leave the guy alone in this building in the middle of the apocalypse now. It’d be no better, he sighed. He stuck out his own hand shaking the scarred hand, “Partners.”

Scar smiled, “Great.”

____________________________

Grian didn’t get a lot of sleep that night. 

He couldn’t stop thinking. 

Scar had mentioned something about sleeping on the second floor of the building where he’d set himself up a room. But Grian had stayed in the front room late into the night not even trying to sleep. 

His mind was just replaying his life inside his head, all the moments that had led up to this point. 

How he’d left his siblings behind at such a young age. Only to fall into the hell that was his grade school life, and to only leave Taurtis in the hands of Sam when they were young. He’d felt safe with Mumbo, felt like he finally had his life sent out for him. Like things were finally looking up, the worst had been over.

Yet, he was dumb enough to go back. Stupid enough to go fall right back into old habits. His only saving grace was Mumbo, and he’d still left him behind. He still left him to create a new world where he could be happy. His mind told him it was selfish to leave for Evo, hoping for something good, when Mumbo who’d helped him through everything wasn’t there. 

And he couldn’t even keep that together. 

Evo was gone. 

He’d once again left his siblings, his friends, his players all to the hands of the Watchers. He’d failed them. He’d become a Watcher.

And Tommy…he never even got to help the kid. 

He stared up at the ceiling off the rotting building. He had no idea where that boy was now, had no idea if he was even still alive. He hoped he was. If the boy had died in that world Grian had created for him he’d never forgive himself. 

Although with how the night was going there was going to be a lot of things he was never forgiving himself for. 

Grian sighed, laying on the floor of the building. 

He decided to give himself some closure.

Scar was upstairs, most likely asleep. Meaning he was safe to let the purple in his mind take over for a moment. 

He felt the wings that normally hide behind his ears and in his hair pulled out and covered his eyes. He could feel his feathers dipping into vod and changing color to a darker purple. He closed his eyes, letting his own feathers tickle his face until he opened thousands of other eyes around him. His arms laid across his stomach as he held himself. 

He chose to try and find Mumbo first. 

He chased after the code of his friend, looking for where he might have found himself. Grian wasn’t even sure if he’d recognize his friend, he wasn’t too sure how long it had been after all. 

It took him a while to find his mustached friend, but he did. 

Grian opened eyes into the server his friend found himself on.

Five invisible purple eyes surrounded Mumbo, as the hairs on the back of his neck raised.

The raven haired player was knelt in front of something Grian couldn’t see quite yet. Mumbo was sitting in front of something on the dead grass. The surroundings were a bit too surreal for Grian. A beautiful tree covered him as he sat in the shade. There was a picnic basket near Mumbo, opened and there were two plates set out. Only one had food on it though.

Grian looked over Mumbo to see the man was crying. 

He was frowning, crying silently as he stared off at whatever was in front of him. Grian could barely make it out now but he was crying over a gravestone. 

Grian’s gravestone. 

Grian felt his own eyes burn at the sight of his best friend sobbing over his grave. Mumbo’s suit was poorly done up, his tie loose around his neck and his hair was rather a mess. 

The gravestone was decorated with Grian’s name and parrot underneath. The stone carefully carved and polished. 

Grian watched as footsteps approached his friend. He could see that there were people standing off, sadly. Grian hadn’t realized it but his friend was sitting out in the rain, his suit soaking wet into the grass. 

If he felt any better, he might’ve made a comment of how Mumbo looked somewhat like a wet cat, crying and soaking wet from the rain. 

In the background there was a shorter man in a moss covered sweater, a tiny frown on his face as he held a black umbrella for himself and another. The man black hair and Grian could see just a few tears on his face. Yet, he’d never met this man. Beside him, under the umbrella was another man with a black mask over his face but Grian could see the misty look in his eyes. He had white hair, and a black bandana around his head. 

Another player was also holding an umbrella, the same dark color. She had blonde hair covered by a pair of goggles. She wore a green jacket over a red and white striped shirt. She wasn’t crying but was looking sadly at the group. Next to her under the umbrella was another woman, who had a head full of orange snakes. She was obviously a zombie hybrid by the look of her green skin. 

In the crowd, Grian could just make out an older man holding a pickaxe, nodding at Mumbo when he looked back. He could see a man in a red flannel, holding a bouquet of flowers. A blaze hybrid and a creeper-goat hybrid stood off to the side, heads bowed down. A man next to blaze hybrid, wearing a black t-shirt with a yellow I on the front, was holding a box of tissues. A slime hybrid held a container of some kind of food that had been prepared. 

Grian watched as someone else stepped forward towards Mumbo. 

Something in Grian made him realize this was the admin of whatever Server Mumbo had found himself on. The admin was a voidwalker, with green armor, the admin walked up to Mumbo slowly once the ravenet realized the audience he had. 

The admin knelt down next to Mumbo before placing down a singular cup and saucer of tea. Grian could already tell it was exactly how Mumbo liked his tea, perfectly made and warm with steam rising from the cup in the rain. 

Mumbo stared at the cup, and Grian was silently begging the man to take it. To enjoy the people who obviously cared so much about him. Grian hadn’t even realized he was crying himself, laying on the dirty rotting floor of the building he was trapped in. HIs own tears made his feathers stick to his eyes. 

“Thank you.” Mumbo muttered, and Grian stuttered at hearing his voice suddenly. 

The admin nodded, standing back up and taking a step back. 

The red flannel man stepped up, handing off the flowers to Mumbo who smiled sadly as he took them. He set them down in front of the gravestone and Grian realized the flowers were his favorites. He had no idea how this man had known, but he knew Mumbo did. 

“Thanks, Keralis.” Mumbo whispered, staring at the flowers rather than the others. 

Keralis nodded, stepping back. The one holding the box of tissues placed them in front of Mumbo.

“We’re here for you, Mumbo.” The zombie hybrid said, quietly. And the group all nodded in agreement. 

And Grian couldn’t watch anymore.

He pulled himself away from that server as fast as he could, barely holding himself back any longer. Once his eyes shut from that server, he broke. His best friend thought he was dead. Which meant everyone thought he was dead.

He didn’t stop his watching, though. He searched for his siblings daring himself to find them and prove to himself they were still alive. 

He traced his sister's code hoping to find something other than a corpse floating in the void of what was left of evo. He wasn’t sure if he could handle seeing her like that. He could barely stand the thought of it, without throwing up in the nearest can. 

The code trailed away from evo into the deepest section of the void Grian was sure he never wanted to see again. And if something was worse than seeing his sister dead this was it. Seeing her worshiped. 

Now, it wasn’t like he disliked his sister in anyway, but she was worshiped by beings he despised. 

Pearl sat up on a pedestal, purple robes that matched Grian hanging off her form. Her legs tucked underneath her as she looked below her to see Watchers roaming around in their daily routines. She was too far up to jump down, if she did she’d surely hurt herself. 

She was frowning as she looked down, a look of discomfort and fear tarnishing her face. A few Watchers had paused below her pedestal, bowing slightly and praying. Her confusion growing as they did, until she gripped the pedestal in a white knuckled grip.

Grian looked closer to see a engraving of words at the center of the pedestal reading: Saint Pearl.

Grian watched as he sister grew in discomfort as the Watchers continued, until a bright red color past on her face. “Where’re my brothers?” She shouted down from the pedestal only to be ignored. “Answer me! Let me go! I’m not a stupid Saint!”

Nothing she screamed at the Watcher had any reaction, until she quieted once again. She sunk into the pedestal, resigning to just sit like a living statue. 

Grian didn’t think he could hate the Watchers any more than he had, but his sister’s words had him wondering about his brother. Where did his twin end up?

He trailed after the code that mimicked his own, only slightly different, he followed it into a newer section of the void that he’d never seen. One so far from the Watcher he wasn’t sure if it was at all affiliated. 

He only found his brother after chasing the code through tunnels and tunnels of green hooded figures. They looked closely related to the Watchers, but different, something Grian had never seen. 

He saw his brother sitting tiredly in a birdcage. 

His twin was stuck in a large bird cage with a gold engraving at the front reading: The Canary.

He wasn’t sure what it meant but he saw his brother had almost been completely forgotten by these beings, left alone in this room and cage. 

He pulled himself out of the void, nothing he saw was lifting his spirits. He had only one last person to check on. One last person he swore to look after and had failed. He followed the code but came up empty. 

He had no idea where Tommy was.

He wasn’t in their survival world. 

He wasn’t in the main hubs.

He wasn’t in any server Grian could see.

He was nowhere.

And Grian finally broke.

____________________________________________

“You’re sure you want to do this?” Scar asked, holding a lighter in one hand and standing in front of a pile of charred wood and the remains of clothes, items, and dead limbs. 

Grian shivered, a slight chill running across his bare arms. He nodded, holding out the purple robes and tossing them onto the pile. 

Scar shrugged, lighting his lighter and placing the flame at the edge of the pile watching as it erupted into flames. A bright red and orange flame engulfed the pile illuminating both of them. 

Grian wiped his face of any leftover tears from the night before, causing Scar to send him an off glance. The brunet didn’t linger though, looking back to the flames. 

“That felt good.” Grian stated, more for himself than Scar. 

Scar nodded, either way, “Partial to a bit of destruction myself, too.”

“What do we do now?” Grian asked, still staring into the flames. 

Scar stayed silent.

“Do you not know?” Grian asked. 

Scar shrugged, “It’s not like I have some amazing plan for how to survive. I have no idea what I’m doing. I’m not smart enough to stop an apocalypse, I’m just stubborn enough to live through it.”

“Do you have any plan?” Grian asked. 

“My plan is for both of us to make it to the end of the day.” Scar smirked, sending the blond a cheeky look, “We’ll see if we make it there.” 

“That’s not reassuring.” Grian murmured, crossing his arms and glaring at the other. 

“There’s a town.” Scar started, turning away from the fire and walking back inside his shelter. Grian toss a single glance back at the burning purple robes before following, “It’s a bit away, but we could make it before sunset. I haven’t been able to raid it because it’s trapped. The people who used to live there were like…preppers or something. A bit eccentric, hated outsiders-anyway, it’s completely trapped and as you’ve seen I’m not the best at avoiding traps.”

“You want help.” Grian finished, raising an eyebrow.

“It’d be nice.” Scar shrugged, trying to offer a smile, “It’s a two person job, but I bet you it’d be good. We’d get food, supplies, ammo, weapons, not to mention some good shelter for the time being. You in?” The brunet had already grabbed him bag and plopped it down on the counters, filling it up with supplies and taking old supplies out. 

“I want a bit more of a plan rather than the loose idea you just gave me.” Grian said.

Scar sighed, “Fine, we head north today we should make it to the city before nightfall. We need to get in before nightfall, that way we can rest in the safety of the city's borders. After that we’ve got free reign of the city’s loot. Then once we’ve finished we head back here. It’ll be like a camping trip-you’ve gone camping, right?”

Grian rolled his eyes, “Yes-no-no, I haven’t.” he muttered, “And you’re sure there’s no one living in this place? What happens if we run into a citizen?’

Scar huffed, packing away food for the trip, “You’re the first living person I’ve come across in years…pretty sure they’re all gone.” His voice trailed off a bit at the end. 

Grian sighed, “Okay, fine.”

Scar grinned, “Great,” The brunet grabbed a separate bag from a shelf and threw it at the blond, “Start packing.”

“What do I pack?” Grian asked, barely catching the bag. 

Scar shrugged, “Food, weapons, medical supplies, water, whatever you can carry really.” He said, looking through his cabinets and packing his own, “Also make sure you’ve got a sleeping bag.”

Grian nodded slowly, looking around the room for supplies. He packed the medical supplies he saw from before, and some boxes of cereal he found lying around. Scar slung his pack around his wounded shoulder, muttering a wince that Grian tried not to hear. 

The blond stood up, his own bag slightly full and a sleeping bag being tossed to him. 

He shoved the sleeping bag into his pack before looking up to see Scar standing in front of him. The brunet smiled, before holding of a bat with the handle out towards Grian. Grian gave the man a confused look.

“You said you didn’t really like guns…but you’re still going to want to have something. This should help out.” He said, handing the bat over. Grian took the bat in his hands, seeing the end of it had nails poking out of it, sharp and pointed. He frowned but nodded.

Scar nodded back, grabbing his own ax from the wall, where he’d laid it and looking to Grian for the motion he was good to go. 

“You ready?” Scar asked.

“As long as you know what you’re doing.” Grian said, tightening his grip around the bat. 

“If that’s the case, you’re never going to be ready.” Scar chuckled, flexing his fingers around the handle of his ax. 

“You are not good at this.” Grian muttered, glaring. 

Scar only chuckled more, “Come on, we’re losing daylight.”

Grian wasn’t too sure Scar knew where he was going. He was just a few steps back from the brunet who was looking rapidly between the map in his hands and the path they were traveling on. Grian was trying to keep his eyes and ears open for any zombies nearby, but he hadn’t heard or seen anything in a bit. 

The path they traveled looked like an old road, or at least a country road. The pavement was just barely seeping through the plants and trees that had overgrown. Grian couldn’t make out anything past the tree line, he hoped there wasn’t anything in the forest watching them-dead or alive. 

Scar looked from the map in his hands, back to the road. He casted a glance at a street sign, pausing to find it on the map before pointing down a side road. 

“So what exactly were you like before you ended up here?” Scar asked, pulling his bag up on his injured shoulder.

Grian winced in sympathy, but shrugged, “I’ve been a lot of different things to different people.” 

Scar huffed, “Right, ‘cause that answers me.”

“Is this your attempt at small talk?” Grian asked, poking his hands into his pockets. 

“Is it working?” Scar asked, rolling up the map in his hands and shoving it into his pack. 

“No.” Grian answered, bluntly.

Scar groaned, stomping his foot on the ground and turning to face the blond fulling, “Then what do you suggest? We walk in silence. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but silence isn’t exactly my thing.” Scar huffed out, crossing his arms.

Grian paused, raising an eyebrow. He sighed, noticing the same look he’d seen in both Mumbo and Tommy when he first met them. That look of begging for a conversation. The look that just wanted a friend.

“Okay.” Grian whispered, “Let’s just ask each other questions-simple questions. If you don’t want to answer, just pass the question.” 

Scar sighed, “Fine.” he started walking again, “What type of bird wings do you have? Aren’t avian’s like specific birds?”

Grian nodded, “Parrot.” He answered, his wings twitching uncomfortably behind him. “Why do you know so much about hybrids if you’ve been in this world without hybrids?”

Scar’s ears twitched, and his fingers tightened on the strap of his back, “Pass.”

Grian puffed out, “Okay, is Scar a nickname or your actual name?” Grian asked, sending quick glance to the brunet.

“Actual name-least it was before I got the scars-then it just became a coincidence.” Scar answered, shrugging. Grian nodded. Scar sighed, hopping over a fallen tree in their way. “Do you have any siblings?”

Grian paused, a little unsure if he should answer or not. He shook off the memory of his siblings trapped in the void. His eyes watering at the thought. If he said he did, Scar would definitely ask more questions about them, and he’d rather not think about them with what he’d seen just early that night. “Pass.”

Scar nodded, respectfully, as Grian lunged over the fallen tree. “Cats or dogs?”

“That’s your next question?” Grian asked, brushing his pants off. Scar nodded, seriously. Grian rolled his eyes, “Cats.”

Scar smiled, “Nice choice.”

“What about you? Do you have any siblings?” Grian asked, as they started walking down the street again. Scar nodded, silently. 

“One. My older brother, really.” Scar said, turning so he was walking backwards to face Grian as he spoke. “I haven’t exactly seen him in a bit, the last time I saw him was before I ended up here. He’d probably be surprised I made it this far.” Scar laughed, although the laugh sounded pained and sad. 

Grian nodded, understanding, a little too well. He sighed, “I have two siblings.” He muttered, earning a confused look from the brunet. 

“You passed that question.” Scar said, almost like he was reminding the blond. “Why did you answer?”

Grian shrugged, “You gave me an answer. I have a twin brother and an older sister. How’d you hurt your shoulder?”

Scar bit the inside of his cheek, “Pass.” He rolled his injured shoulder, trying to show that it was completely fine. However, it only made him wince at the weight that was lying against the wound and bandages. 

“Let me hold your bag.” Grian sighed, stopping and holding out his hand. 

Scar paused, brow furrowed, “That’s not a question.”

“I know.” Grian said, still holding out his hand, expecting the man to hand over his bag. “You’ve obviously got a messed up shoulder, and you’ve already said you can’t use your other, so hand it over. I can carry it. You’re shoulder’s not going to heal with that weight on it.”

Scar took a step back, rather not liking the idea of handing off everything valuable at the moment. “You’ll just run off with it.”

Grian didn’t waver, “We’ve already gone through the fact that I will not survive on my own. I have no idea where I am, and at the moment I’m completely reliant on you for information.” Grian said, moving his head to the side a bit like a bird, “If you think I'd do that then you’ve underestimated both me and this situation.”

Scar didn’t like this situation. He didn’t want to make Grian think he didn’t trust him, but well, he didn’t trust him! He’d just met him yesterday and everything he owned was in that bag-at least the good stuff was. But, the blond was right, his shoulder was never going to heal with the way he treated it. He’d just end up with two unusable shoulders instead of just one. 

Scar sighed, shrugging the bag off, “Fine, but you run and I’m shooting you.” He muttered, holding out the bag for Grian to take. 

Grian nodded, “Understandable.” He said, pulling the bag over his other shoulder to carry both bags. Scar stood completely still trying to find his balance with the normal weight of his pack having left one side. He shuffled his feet a bit, trying to find it once again. Grian noticed, and lifted an eyebrow concerned. “You alright?”

“Yeah.” Scar muttered, “Just weird without it.”

Grian nodded, in understanding, “Do you want to continue?” He asked.

Scar sighed, beginning to walk forward once again hoping not to get sidetracked again. “What were your siblings like?”

Grian scowled, “Pass.”

Scar sent a sharp look over but didn’t say anything back, “Parents?”

“Pass.” Grian spat out, ignoring the fire in his stomach at the idea of his parents. 

Scar sighed, “Friends?”

“Pass.” Grian stated again.

“You are a lonely guy.” Scar chuckled, a bit to himself. 

“You’re not exactly Mr. Popular yourself.” Grian motioned around to the desolate landscape around them. Scar smirked, uncomfortably. “What about you? What about your parents?” 

Scar let out a puff of air, “My brother raised me.”

Grian nodded, “I raised me.” He muttered back, as if it could offer some comfort to the other. 

Scar huffed out a laugh, “Guess neither of us are role models.”

Chapter Text

“How exactly do you plan on getting in?” Grian asked, staring up at the closed off city. There was a wall spanding the length of the city, surrounding it in tall blackstone walls. The buildings barely could be seen over it and even then they looked destroyed and crumbling. There was one door that spread as tall as the wall, the two doors closed and locked from anyone outside or inside. 

“Yeah, that’s a problem.” Scar muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, “See, these guys trapped literally everything from here across. That door is locked, trapped, stuck and a whole lot of other things. Which is why I needed another person to help. I can’t get in but you can.”

Grian’s brow furrowed, “What do you mean, how am I supposed to get in there?”

Scar turned his head to the side and looked at the two limbs that poked out of his back. The two wings tucked closely to his back. “Those wings of you’re work, right?”

Grian’s eyes snapped over to the brunet, “You want me to fly over that!” He pointed at the wall. “Do you even have any idea about what’s on the other side?”

“Nope!” Scar grinned, “No clue, but if you go over first you can disable any traps on that side and let me through.”

“And if there are problems on that side that I have to deal with, what do I do?” Grian asked, pointing to the door. 

Scar shrugged, “Look, you’ve got to trust me on this. There shouldn’t be any problems, traps, or such when you get over it. They wanted to keep people out, not prevent their own livelihood.” 

“So you really think when I get over there, I’ll be fine?” Grian asked. 

“Fine as a dandelion.” Scar grinned.

“I’ll have you know I have yet to see a dandelion on this dismal trip.” Grian grumbled, spreading his wings out and huffing. Scar gave him a thumbs up and the parrot hybrid was in the air in less than a second. The blond flying up and over the wall, leaving Scar as a small ant on the ground. 

Grian quickly scanned the area of the city, seeing nothing that could cause him immediate damage he carefully landed on a bench. He looked around the road for any tripwires, pressure plates or sound sensors. When he was sure, he didn’t see anything he hopped off the bench. He took a careful step towards the door, finding the other side of the wall was decorated in redstone, levers, buttons and observers. 

One thing Grian had always been good at even when he’d first met Mumbo, was destroying the poor spoon’s hard work. Mostly by accident but a few times on purpose. 

He remembered, a small moment between the two, they were playing some old game Grian had created called Build Swap. Mumbo had ended up creating some redstone product, and it only took Grian a few seconds to fully break it. Mumbo hadn’t even been mad, he just laughed as the redstone doused Grian in red murky dust. The whole thing had been rescheduled after that, and Mumbo had helped him clean up. 

All Grian had to do was break this. Just break it! That can’t be hard! Grian let out a breath before taking a step closer and gripping the redstone wire connecting an observer with something else. He ripped the wire, before throwing random rocks into hoppers and droppers. He ripped five other wires connecting up to one large redstone work. He undid any tripwires he saw. He destroyed anything he could see, and broke with his bare hands. 

His shirt was covered in the dust when he was done. He tried to wipe off his shirt, only spreading it more. He huffed, turning to the lever that opened the door, at least that’s what he hoped it did. 

“How do I know how to open the door!” Grian shouted over the wall. 

Scar laughed, and Grian heard the wheeze through the wall. “Not too sure myself! Just press some buttons!”

“You just said this place was rigged!” Grian shouted back, stomping his foot down, “Are you crazy!”

“I don’t know how to answer that!” Scar called out.

Grian huffed, pressing a few buttons that didn’t seem to do anything and pulling a lever or two. It took a few minutes and at one point there was an explosion that had Scar screaming in shock. But eventually, the door cracked open. 

“Let’s go!” Scar cheered, when he saw the door crack open, and raced forward to help Grian open it more. 

Grian huffed, pointing a redstone finger at Scar, “You-are crazy.”

Scar just smiled, and pointed to the rising moon and setting sun. “We should get somewhere for the night. It’s not a good idea to be out when it gets dark.”

Grian sighed, as Scar grabbed his wrist and pulled him out of the open road. He dragged the blond down the sidewalk of the roads to the larger area with better, stable buildings. Grian followed along, barely paying attention to Scar and more to his surroundings. 

Scar however, spared a glance to the blond every few seconds to make sure he was still there. Even though the brunet had yet to let the other go. There was something brewing in his mind that he wasn’t able to decipher, he tried to push whatever it was away focus on the task ahead, then he’d look behind him at it’d be right there. 

“Do you even know where you’re going?” Grian asked, “Are you sure this place is safe?”

“No and no.” Scar answered, “Which is why I’m exploring. If we could just find a somewhat stable-there!” Scar cut himself off, pointing off to a tall building. The building looked better than others, but there was still a whole chunk missing from it’s center. Scaffolding looked to be the only thing keeping it up, and moss and vines had begun to grow over the pieces exposed to the outside. Grian huffed, while Scar just grinned, pulling him along once more, “Come on!” 

The building wasn’t too far from where they’d been, a bit of a walk but nothing horrible. Now, though, they came across the problem of how to get in. Scar pulled his gun from his holster on his belt, propping it up and aiming for anything that came through the door before they were ready. Grian stood just slightly behind him, as Scar carefully pushed the rusted door open. 

The inside was just as dark as the outside. No lights were on, the walls were covered in soot, cobwebs and mold. Moss was slowly making its way through the walls and ceiling. The place had been trashed before they arrived, clutter scattered the floor, along with bugs and the small scurrying rodents. Grian hadn’t even seen a few of those creatures. 

Scar still walked slowly, stalking anything that could move and need to be shot at a moment's notice. Grian however, was only looking out for the randomly placed trapped, his mind immediately following the types of pranks and traps that could end up sending them both to a permanent death.

Scar carefully searched any of the first floor room, clearing them out of anything still rotting and barely alive. Grian could only focus on the odd situation he’d found himself in. 

Scar walked out of the last room he’d searched, lowering his gun, he paused, staring at Grian as he looked around the main lobby room. He felt that odd feeling in the back of his mind come back as he watched the blond look around. He felt his brow furrowed in confusion as Grian spun in a little circle looking up at the ceiling. 

He almost didn’t want to bother the man’s obvious trance with the architecture of the building. Still, though, he knew the kind of danger they’d be in if they stayed on the first floor. “Hey!” He called to the blond, who stopped and stared at him wide eyed. Scar tried to smile, and pointed upwards, “We should probably head upwards. It’s safer on the top floors.” 

Grian nodded, pulling on the sleeves of the too long white shirt. 

The blond followed the other up the stairwell to the third or fourth floor, he hadn’t counted. Once they ended on the floor, Scar wanted, he fell back into his routine of searching the floor. All while Grian stood a bit awkwardly. His hands still gripped the ax Scar had given him, but he wasn’t too sure if he wanted to use it. 

Scar walked back to where Grian was stood, placing his gun back. “It looks safe enough for the night.”

“I really hope you’re telling the truth.” Grian huffed, kneeling down and placing the two bags on the floor. He threw Scar’s bag back to him, and rifled through his own. Scar took his bag back, a smile on his face when he’d been given it back with nothing stolen. Scar pulled out a sleeping bag, unrolling it. He smiled up at the blond who was shuffling through his own bag, “I don’t have a reason to lie, do I?”

Grian pulled out two protein bars and a canteen full of water for the two of them. He tossed one protein bar to Scar, before eating his own. Scar thanked the blond, laying down on his sleeping bag and using his own pack as a pillow.

Grian didn’t really have a sleeping bag, it was more of just a makeshift bed. A few pieces of fabric and soft things he’d gathered from their exploration of the building. Still it felt more like a nest than a sleeping bag would.

They laid quietly, staring at the ceiling, neither starting a conversation. Just eating, and sharing the canteen between the two of them. 

“If you weren’t here right now, where would you want to be?” Scar asked, still staring at the ceiling, holding the canteen. 

Grian sighed, “I’m not sure.”

Scar raised an eyebrow, “There’s got to be one place you can think of you’d rather be than here!”

Grian shook his head, “Nope, I don’t really want to be anywhere I have been in the past.”

Scar looked over to the blond, turning his head to face him, to see the blond staring up at the ceiling the same way as before. Scar hummed in reaction, turning back, “I think I’d want to go somewhere to build. I’ve always liked building, I’ve got some ideas that I think would be fun projects.” Scar introduced, “Can you imagine? Like a huge place where you could just build all you want. Terrafore the world and work with others like you. That always sounded awesome to me.”

Grian broke a smile, “That sounds nice…” He paused, “But impossible.”

Scar cringed, “Why?”

Grian huffed, “A world like that-it’s asking for destruction. Asking for something to ruin the peace.”

“That’s the best part!” Scar giggled, “I made it up. So it can’t get messed up. If it lives in my mind than only I can mess with it.”

“I wouldn’t be that sure if I were you.” Grian muttered.

Scar raised an eyebrow, “What?”

“I mean your thoughts aren’t always the safest place.” Grian mumbled. 

“When the world outside is like that-” Scar pointed to the nearest window, “It’s safe to say I’d rather stay inside my head.” Scar sighed, “You still haven’t answered, though.”

Grian sighed, “Fine-I’d be-I’d be…” Grian thought for a moment, “I’d be with my brother and sister. I’d be with my friends.”

Scar smiled, “That’s a good choice.” Scar thought for a second before continuing, “What about-”

“Scar, I’m going to sleep.” Grian muttered, turning on his side away from the brunet.

Scar frowned, but nodded, deciding it was best to follow the blond. Only as time went on he couldn’t sleep. He kept finding himself sparing glances over to the blond next to him, worried in a second he’d just disappear like every other person on that void-forbid world. 

He tossed and turned trying to find something that would let himself relax enough to sleep. Still, though, he couldn’t shake that feeling out of his mind. He wasn’t sure if it’d been hours or minutes, but he knew that the blond had in fact fallen asleep at some point. 

He sat up, curling his knees into himself as he watched the lobby of the floor with careful eyes. He hugged his knees waiting for the brighter shade to darken the window reflections. The moon however had only the idea of letting him wallow in confusion as he sat there. 

His head was muddled with thoughts of just of talking to someone, and if he fumbled through his thoughts he could tell he just wanted to talk to the mystery lying next to him. It was odd. An entire world lapsed in an apocalypse and he could only think about the person next to him. 

Scar shook his head, if he couldn’t sleep he could at least do something productive. 

He stood up, grabbing his gun from the spot he’d laid it. He grabbed his bag, hooking it back around his shoulder, and carefully walking away from their tiny campsite. He wasn’t exactly hoping to wake up the other. 

He started with the same floor they were already on, searching a few rooms for anything he could steal and use. He rampaged through a few cupboards just earning a few old papers and folders that had nothing useful. He opened drawers, taking whatever snacks the old workers had stashed away. 

When he’d finished clearing the floor, he made his way back to their campsite. He laid out whatever he didn’t need immediately, and tip toed his way back to the stairwell. When he closed the door to the stairwell, he was almost sure it would’ve woken up Grian. Still though the blond only twitched and fell back to sleep. 

Scar let out a breath as he started climbing the stairwell to the next floor. He followed his same routine as he did, clearing out the whole floor of anything useful and disabling any traps. It wasn’t till he hit the seventh floor he hit a roadblock.

As he entered the seventh floor, he poked his head into a new room. And there he saw a hoard waiting all surrounding something he wasn’t sure if he wanted to actually see. He could however see the red substance spilling it’s way to the doorway he stood in. 

He cursed under his breath, catching at least one of the zombie’s attention. The zombie snapped its head over to him, a grumble erupting from its throat. Scar took a step back, his hand reaching for the gun on his belt. The moment the first zombie took a single step forward, he was shooting. 

He shot the zombie right in the head, entails and blood exploding across the room. 

Scar only saw his mistake afterwards. 

“Shoot!” He yelled, as the zombie’s attention left whatever they’d been surrounding and locked onto him. He’d been too stuck in his head for the past three days, he’d broken one of his first rules: Don’t bring attention to yourself!

His fingers lost grip on his gun as the hoard took collective movements closer to him.

“Shi-Shoot!” Scar almost cursed, before leaning over grabbing his gun and running. 

He ran back down the lobby of the seventh floor, taking a few seconds to look behind him and see the hoard chasing after him. As he ran he repeatedly hit his head with the butt of his gun. 

“Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!” He muttered, running down a hallway, and reaching the stairwell door. He pushed it open, gripping the handle of the door and trying to barricade the creatures from entering the stairwell. 

The zombie’s pushed on the door, as he tried to force the door back in place. Only with both his shoulders having been ruined for almost two years now, he was nowhere near as strong as a hoard of zombies. 

He shook his head, knowing he wasn’t going to need at least some help to deal with this.  And at least two floors down there was such help. 

“I really hope you’re a morning person.” Scar muttered to himself as he let go of the door and used his seconds long headstart to jump a few stairs. 

The zombie’s pushed through the door, trying their best to follow the brunet as he stumbled his way down the stairs. 

He tried his best to aim his gun as he ran, thinking just one good shot might save him, but he couldn’t get a good spot to stay still long enough. 

He gave up trying to shoot and just ran away. He landed on the fourth floor, bursting through the door of the stairwell, forgetting his notion of trying to be quiet from before. 

“Grian! Grian! That’s your name right? Grian! Wake up!” Scar shouted, pressing his body against the door. 

Grian rolled over to his side, eyes slowly blinking open to the screaming. His brow furrowed as a pained look over took his face. Still two eyes looked back at Scar with tired confusion. 

“Hm?” Grian hummed, letting his mind catch up to his surroundings. 

“Dude, we need to go! Now!” Scar shouted, still trying to hold back the door that was breaking with the weight of the hoard on the other side. 

Grian sat up, rubbing his eyes before he recognized what was happening. “What the? Where am I?” He muttered, he looked around the room, fingers flinching at the floor below him. “What’s going on?”

Scar huffed, “Hi! I’m Scar, you’re Grian. We’re in a building and there are zombies outside the door at the moment! So I’d be very happy if you helped!” Scar shouted, as there was another loud bang from the other side of the door. Scar flinched at the sound his hands spreading across the door to keep it in place. 

Scar’s explanation got Grian’s attention back to the matter at hand and the blond was moving quickly. Grian moved faster than Scar had seen him before, the blond grabbed the ax he’d been given and stood next to Scar prepped and ready to help. 

“What do we do?” Grian asked, the ax held above his shoulder just a tad, as if he was ready to swing. 

Scar tried to smirk or smile but failed as another hit to the door had his moving. He was knocked from the door, and Grian replaced him. Grian pushed the door back, holding it in place as Scar tried to think of something to do. 

Scar looked around the room, he grabbed the second  bag Grian had been carrying and started rifling through it looking for anything that could help. 

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing!” Grian shouted, as he was pushed against the door again. 

“Does it look like I know what I’m doing!” Scar shouted back, motioning around them. He bit the side of his lip, “Are you sure you don’t want to use a gun?”

Grian grimaced, “What part of I don’t use guns do you not understand?!” Grian shouted, “I thought you said this place was safe!”

“Safe for the night and safe in general are two different things.” Scar answered, still looking through their bags. Grian glared at him, “how the hell did I get stuck with you.” He muttered under his breath, as Scar deftly ignored him. 

Scar’s eyes lit up upon seeing something inside his bag, and he grabbed both bags shouldering them and jumping up to meet Grian at the door. 

“I’ve got it!” He grinned, staring at Grian’s wide fearful black eyes. The blond just stared back at him in confusion and careful horror as he waited for some good news. Still the brunet didn’t do anything until Grian nodded. 

Scar grabbed the man’s hand that was holding the ax and guiding him into tearing the door down. Scar’s hands wrapped around Grian’s as they both brought the ax down on the door. The ax lodged into the door, and Grian dropped his grip. 

“What are you doing! That door is all that’s between us and them!” Grian shouted, letting go of the ax and taking a quick jump away from the door. 

There was a crack now in the door, a crack that allowed gross, slimy dead hands to break through. Grian cringed, trying to escape the sight. Scar just stayed still staring at the crack in the door. 

“I know. Please just trust me on this! I’ve got an idea!” Scar said, “I can’t break through the door,” The brunet motioned to his shoulder, “You can.”

“You have a death wish.” Grian snapped.

“Trust me.” Scar begged. 

Grian looked between the brunet and the door with terrifying creatures trying to escape towards them. Grian cursed himself silently, and grabbed the handle of the ax again. He pushed his foot against the door and pulled the ax out before continuing the break through the door. He wasn’t sure what Scar had planned but he wasn’t sure if he had any better ideas. 

The larger the crack in the door got the closer the dead hands and limbs got. 

“Okay, okay!” Scar shouted, grabbing Grian’s shoulder before the blond could continue anymore. He pulled the blond farther away, quick steps letting them spread the distance between them and the zombies. 

Scar looked at Grian, a tiny sliver of what he was feeling last night coming back as he looked at the face in front of him. The fear that was shown on the blond’s face as he watched limbs and bodies fall through the door in an ungraceful movement. 

“Cover your ears.” Scar said, quickly, pulling out what he’d grabbed from his bag earlier. Grian’s eyes widened as he saw the small object in the brunet’s hands. He’d heard of such a thing but had never seen one in person. Grian covered his ears, shutting his eyes tightly. 

Scar pulled the pin out of the grenade, before throwing the object towards the door where dead creatures where climbing through. The brunet didn’t let himself watch the destruction instead turning to the blond who’d covered his ears and shut his eyes. 

He pushed the blond behind him, pushing his head down so he was ducking from any flying debris. The brunet then covered his own ears as the sound broke through and the explosion began. 

Grian dared open one eye seeing his feet below him as he looked at the debris that spread the floor. He twitched his fingers moving them from his ears when the ringing in his ears started to over take the loud bangs and booms. 

He looked up to see Scar staring right at him. The two stood face to face, both breath harshly as they caught their breath. Green eyes met black as they stared at each other shocked to see either one alive. 

Grian broke their staring contest to see just over Scar’s shoulder at look at the mess that surrounded the door. 

Scar followed his sight, turning to face the destruction. He gulped down air, at the bodies that piled the doorway, and the blood that spilled onto the floor staining it red. 

Grian picked up a foot before the pool could barely touch his shoe. 

“It worked.” Scar whispered, almost too scared to speak any louder. 

“Oh my void, it actually worked.” Grian muttered.

Scar turned back to the blond, a giant grin on his face. 

Grian stared at the man’s grin, something settling in his mind as he looked back at him. 

“We’re leaving this building now, right?” Grian asked, breaking eye contact to look back at the doorway. 

Scar nodded, staring at the doorway, “Oh definitely.”

________________________________________

They’d spent two weeks in the city, following the same routine. Find a way into a building, steal and loot whatever they could find and disable any traps. They took a breath around noon when the sun was highest to eat whatever they could find. Scar didn’t seem to have any way of preserving food, his idea was only to eat what they had while they had it.

Which left Grian to try and disperse their food intake. 

Then they continued, searching the buildings and surviving the best they could. Then once the moon started to rise they found a safe spot for the night.

“This has got to be the best view so far.” Scar smiled, sitting on the edge of the roof. They’d found their way up to one of the tallest buildings roofs. The stairwell wasn’t completely rotted through and safe enough to climb all the way to the rooftop entrance. 

So the two ended up setting up their small campsite on the rooftop for the night. 

Grian had slowly been accumulating small blankets and cloths to create a makeshift bed whenever he needed to sleep. The blond finally got a proper sleep once he had a nest to rest in. He had to try and ignore Scar’s glances whenever he stored away something soft, or when he was well in his instincts creating a safe nest. 

The brunet never said anything though, only taking spare glances and staying silent. Although Grian was sure he had questions. 

“I think part of that is just how high up we are.” Grian responded, sitting in the center of his nest. Scar had laid out his sleeping bag and was currently sitting on the very edge of the roof, his legs dangling off. 

“Higher the safer.” Scar laughed, watching out below them as he saw a few spare zombies walking the streets and alleyways from their bird’s eye view. 

“Unless there are flying zombies.” Grian smirked, falling back into his nest and letting his head rest. He laid down, taking the moment to watch the sky and stars above them as the moon slowly moved. 

Scar laughed, something wheezy and tired, “Unless there are flying zombies.” He looked over to the blond, “Let’s just up we don’t end up like them then.”

Grian smiled, nodding, not even needing to look at the brunet to know he was still smirking. Then what he said actually caught up with him, “We?”

He looked over to the brunet, not seeing any wings or any hybrid trait on the brunet. “I mean, I know we said we were partners, but I think I’d count you as a friend now.” He said, nodding to himself. 

“You don’t want to be my friend.” Grian muttered.

“Does it look like I have a lot of other options?” Scar shrugged, then he picked up a pebble from the rooftop space next to him and threw it at a roaming zombie. The sound caught the zombie’s attention and Scar shouted, “Hey! Zombie, you want to be my friend!”

Grian shot up from laying down, looking over the edge to see the zombie trying to chase after the sound of the pebble Scar had thrown. “What are you doing!”

Scar laughed, “See-dumb as a doorknob. Plus, we’ve been in the city-place-whatever it is for two weeks. We make a good team. I’ve been happier these past two weeks than I have in years!” He said, exaggerating with his arms and he fell back onto the sleeping bag, “So, can we be friends?”

Grian frowned, “You’ll regret it.”

Scar shook his head, “I don’t think you get to decide that.” 

Grian sighed, “Fine, friends.” He tried to keep his frown prominent on his face but the more he thought about the past week. The laughs he had when Scar did something stupid, the fun he’d had when he and Scar messed with the zombies. The conversations he’d had during their frequent breaks. He couldn’t keep the smile from his face, but he could still hide his face from the brunet. “Why don’t you just move your base here, rather than some military outpost far away in the middle of nowhere.”

Scar hummed, “Knowing me, I’d detonate a trap on accident a month into living here.”

“At least you’d have some sense of normalcy.” Grian offered, motioning around to the shops and apartment buildings. 

Scar frowned, “I think I’d miss it more if I had to sit and stare at it. If I live out there, I can at least pretend I’m just some hermit living away from the world.”

Grian sighed, understanding, “Is it my turn for a story or yours?” He asked. The two had found that it was easier to fall asleep, for the both of them, if they took turns telling stories. It started pretty simple.

Grian found that he couldn’t sleep one night from constant strings of eyes Watching servers that he felt a tug too. His mind traveling across to Pearl, Mumbo, Jimmy, Marytn. And no matter how hard he tried to pull himself away, he couldn’t. Scar had heard him crying and rather than say anything he just started telling a story. 

It was a simple story about himself when he was younger and was still around his older brother. He explained that his brother wanted to be a scientist and would do silly experiments that never made sense to him but his brother enjoyed. 

For some reason the story helped calm him down, enough that Grian fell asleep by the end of it. 

Then the next night, Grian told some story of his siblings. Scar never told him to stop and just let him continue. After that the two shared stories every night going back and forth.

“Your turn.” Scar answered with a nod.

Grian nodded, laying back down and staring up at the sky. “Have I told you why we called my brother Timmy?”

“Nope.” Scar said, turning his head to face Grian. 

“Well, I guess I started it. It started at some party my parents put on. My brother and I were there for once, and we were going to have to introduce ourselves to everyone. And I thought it would be funny to tell everyone my brother’s name was Timmy instead of Jimmy.” Grian started to explain. 

Scar nodded, watching as Grian explained. As he did the feeling started to return in the back of his mind. The same feeling from before fuzzy his mind into just junk and nonsense as he listened. He had no idea what had been happening, all he knew was whenever he looked at Grian, whenever he heard the blond, he started getting smiley and laughing more. His mind turned to mush and he just listened. 

He could spend hours watching the blond smile and talk. The way the blond’s face curved into something more round that circled his two black eyes. He had freckles around his nose and cheeks that Scar was just seeing under the darker light. The beautiful colorful feathers that spiraled out of his ears and pieces of his blond curls. 

By the time Grian had finished, Scar realized he hadn’t been listening. He’d only been watching. 

Grian looked over, his head turning to see Scar, confusion in his face as to why Scar was staring at him. Scar smiled, “Cool.”

“You didn’t pay attention did you?” Grian laughed.

Scar smiled, awkwardly, “Sorry.”

Grian shook his head, “It’s fine. I think I’m going to get some sleep, though.” He said, quietly. 

Scar nodded, as Grian turned back over away from Scar. 

Scar sighed, looking back up to the sky. He sat waiting for sleep to overtake him when he started hearing slight purring next to him. He looked over to see Grian asleep. Scar raised an eyebrow, he remembered his brother once saying that birds sometimes purred during their sleep. He’d never hurt it himself though, and he wasn’t too sure if bird hybrids did as well. 

Still he could hear the purring from next to him and he smiled, “Cute.”

He paused.

Did he just call Grian cute?

He looked away from the blond, feeling a redness rise to his cheeks. 

He remembered the mushy feeling in his mind as he spent more and more time with Grian. 

Oh void, he liked Grian.

____________________________________________________

Scar was being weird.

Grian had decided this was definitely not the way Scar normally acted. Even if he had only known the man for a few weeks. 

One of the first things Grian could tell had changed was the way Scar acted. 

Scar had tripped over just about every sidewalk piece. His normally confident facade was broken for a more stuttering smile. He wasn’t thinking as they walked through the alleyways, causing Grian to have to pull him away from more and a few hidden traps. 

In fact Scar had detonated about two traps already. One was a tripwire that had been laid out in the middle of the alleyway. Scar had been caught up on something Grian was talking about that he tripped and caused a spike to come falling down on top of them. Grian had half the mind to pull them both out of the way. The second had been more of a comedic moment. 

The two were about to enter a store, when Scar opened the door without thinking and was splattered with paint. The observer sending off a signal to douse the intruder in paint and warning the old owner of the store. 

Grian had laughed at the moment, running to get something to help clean off as much paint as he could. Scar had only stood in shook, flapping his arms out to try and rid excess paint from himself. 

“You’ve got to start watching where you’re going.” Grian laughed as he brought back a towel he’d found from a back room, luckily. 

“Why did it have to be paint?” Scar muttered, taking the towel and wiping his clothes off. 

“It’s going to be a bit more difficult not to bring attention to us when there’s a giant blueberry walking around.” Grian joked.

“Very funny.” Scar mocked, trying to get as much paint off of his face. “Think we could find some running water around here?” Scar asked, holding out the towel and cringing as he looked at it.

Grian shrugged, “Maybe. Let me check the back again. I think I saw a sink in one of the old break rooms.”

“Great.” Scar sighed.

“Doubt it will work though,” Grian called out as he walked away from Scar and back to the break rooms. 

Scar rolled his eyes, using the time to look around the old store for anything useful. They’d found themselves in some old general store, so it'd be a good time to stock up on bandages. Scar wandered a few isles, most of the items either fallen off the shelves or already stolen. 

Scar passed by the aisles that held nothing but small old knicknacks people used to buy, things that no longer served any purpose. He really just needed to search a few isles for anything useful. 

Scar walked down an aisle of medical supplies closer to one of the counters of the store. He searched a few shelves pulling out any bandages and medicine he could find. Bandages were normally well picked over, but he was lucky enough to find a few stragglers boxes. 

“Come on, come on.” He muttered under his breath as he searched the shelves. His hands pushed aside anything he didn’t need to get to the very back of the shelves. His mind was so far away from where he was that he didn’t hear the signs of something moving behind the counter of the small pharmacy. He didn’t hear the rattling of shelves, bottles, and old drawers moving. 

He stuffed another package of medical tape into his bag, when there was a crash from behind the counter next to him. He looked up from the shelves, looking over to the counter. 

“Grian? You back there?” he asked, standing up straight. He pulled his bag over his shoulder more, “Grian?”

He didn’t get a response. Instead there was more rustling and crashing sounds as things moved along shattered glass and broken wood. Scar’s brow furrowed, Grian had gone to the back to search for running water. There was no way he’d rounded to where Scar was?

Scar’s fingers itched to grab his gun from his holster, but he was patient he didn’t want to shoot if it would risk hurting Grian. The brunet’s fingers danced just above the handle of his gun as he leaned on the side of the counter to see over it. 

“Gri-” Scar was stopped short when something jumped at him. Something muted in color but painted in greens, blacks and blues with bits of red blood and white bone sticking out. He screamed, as he tried to grab his gun from his belt quickly. 

His fumbling hands made it to hold the gun but before he could move his arms to shoot, the gun was knocked from his hand as the zombie tried to tear into him. 

“Shit!” Scar cursed, as he dropped his gun and it slid across the floor. He kicked at the zombie trying to kill him. The zombie was tearing at his jacket, trying to reach any bit of lifeful body it could find. Scar punched the zombie in the face before it could bite down on his arm, the punch knocking a few teeth out of the already rotting corpse’s mouth. 

The zombie didn’t give up as he tried to pull the brunet’s arms from his body. Scar punched the zombie, kicking it in the gut to try and get it off of him as they fought. His back was pressed up against the wall, and he knew he was shouting but he wasn’t sure what he was shouting. 

Maybe he was calling for help? But when had he ever called for help before? Who’d even give him help? He’d only attract more attention. 

He pushed against the zombie trying to get some leverage on the situation. He was stuck between a wall and a zombie with no way out. His gun was on the floor, Grian had his ax, and any other weapon he had was stuck between his back and the wall in his bag. 

A sharp bang was what caught Scar from his frantic, panicked state as he tried to fight the corpse. 

The noise was followed by a sudden weight falling off of Scar, as the zombie fell to the ground in front of him. 

He looked down to see that now, instead of being covered in blue paint, he had blood spilling over his shirt and jacket as the zombie slid off of him: dead. He swallowed, hating the feeling of blood on his skin no matter how long he’d lived in this world. 

He froze, unsure of what had happened or what was about to happen. He looked down, staring not just at his red covered shirt but his bloody hands that were bruised and scratched from his fighting. He blinked, trying to see if the blood would just disappear. 

He looked up seeing something he wasn’t expecting at all. 

Grian

Grian was stood in front of him a few feet away, his hands held his gun raised and prepared to shoot. The blond was shaking from his fingers to his shoulders. Scar could see tears forming int he black eyes of his friend. 

Grian had heard him.

Grian had shot that zombie

“You-You can shoot!” Scar shouted, the sudden realization that this man who’d said he’d never touch a gun could be such a good shot. 

Grian’s shaking hands dropped the gun without a second thought. The blond almost throwing the gun back at Scar.

Grian looked between the zombie and Scar his eyes dancing between the two, as the tears that were forming started to fall onto his cheeks. 

__ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___

When Grian heard the shouting he wasn’t exactly sure what he was hearing. It sounded like Scar, but Scar was probably just complaining about being covered in paint. He’d actually found running water surprisingly in one of the back rooms. 

He’d been on his way to tell Scar as such when he heard the grumblings and screeching of a zombie that he was only now getting used to. 

He’d run into the front of the store, quickly finding Scar being pushed against a wall as a zombie desperately tried to win whatever fight was happening. The zombie trying to find some place to infect the brunet. 

Grian took a second to stare at the scene, Scar punching and kicking at the zombie as it fought back. Why the other had not shot the creature yet, he didn’t know. Grian tried to clear out his thoughts as Scar’s screaming punctured his brain. 

He searched the room for something to help as Scar tried to rid the corpse off of him. Grian’s eyes caught purchase on the pistol Scar normally had in his belt. 

He swallowed back vomit as he moved to grab the gun and hold it in his hands like he remembered when he was in highschool. He let his finger hover over the trigger for a moment, aiming it at the zombie’s head. He pulled the trigger shutting his eyes so he didn’t see the aftermath. 

The sound of the gun going off is what sent Grian farther back into his head. He didn’t see what exactly happened in front of him, all he saw was a body fall and someone walk forward covered in blood. He could feel the blood that had spilled over himself, his hands were red with spots of blood. 

He felt his eyes shakily try and look at everything around him, searching for anything dangerous around them. 

Someone had shot.

He’d shot someone.

He’d shot someone-again.

He looked down at his hands, the red spots coloring his vision. He threw the gun trying to rid himself of the familiar weight in his hands. He felt his knees give out next.

He was on the ground now, his knees just barely touching the pool of blood surrounding the body. 

“Oh-Oh void-oh no.” Grian muttered, a hand outreaching to touch the body. 

He felt something grab his hand and pull him away from his trance. He followed the arm that was holding his hands to see a brunet with a scarred face. He was covered in blood and paint?

Taurtis?

No, he had brown hair. Sam?

Grian shook his head. 

“Grian?” Scar asked, again, trying to break through whatever was going on in the blond’s head. “Grian. Hey, you okay?”

The blond didn’t answer, just stared between Scar and the corpse. 

“I-I shot-” Grian mumbled, pointing at the body. 

“Yeah. Yeah, it was really cool. Thanks, but we should go.” Scar said, trying to pull the blond’s arms to get him to move. Grian didn’t move though, keeping his place limp on the ground as he stared at the corpse with wide teary eyes. 

“No-we can’t-he’s gonna-he’s going to die.” Grian said, pulling his arms away, but he was too out of it to actually pull his arms away from the brunet’s firm grip. 

“Grian! It’s already dead.” Scar explained, firmly, staring at the black eyes in front of him. 

Grian shook his head, panic slipping into his voice more and more the more he looked at the body, “I shot him-I killed-I killed him.”

Scar let go of the man’s wrists confused, and Grian moved to hug himself. His arms wrapping around his torso like a mock hug. His breathing rapidly increased as he started hyperventilating. His fingers digging into his shoulders until little divots formed in his arms. 

“Grian?” Scar asked, brow furrowing at whatever was happening. He vaguely remembered his brother explaining a similar situation to him when he was younger. Some friend of his brother was panicking and Scar had been there to see his brother calm them down. He’d called it a panic attack. 

Although this one looked a little different.

Scar knelt down in front of the blond, confusion still painting his vision but he was slowly adjusting to the situation. 

Grian had said he never wanted to touch a gun. He didn’t want to shoot anything, he didn’t want to kill anything-at least not by any modern weapon. When Scar asked if he wanted to, he panicked. And now, Grian had killed using Scar’s gun. 

The brunet knelt down in front of the blond, blocking his view from the twice dead body. “Are you alright?” Scar asked, he got no answer except for the constant rapid breaths Grian was taking to try and catch himself up to the present. “Grian?”

“I didn’t-He’s gonna-He’ll find me-I-Taurtis-” Grian rambled, his eyes unseeing as he stared ahead, looking far past Scar. 

Scar’s brow furrowed, “What? What are you talking about?” He asked, but he didn’t get any response. Scar tried to follow the other’s gaze to whatever he was looking at but all he saw was the bloody wall behind them that had an outline of Scar’s body printed on the concrete. 

He looked back to Grian, seeing the blond hugging himself and trying to provide some comfort for himself. Scar frowned, opening his arms in case the blond wanted a real hug, “Do you want a hug?” He asked.

Grian’s eyes dashed from where they’d been staring at the wall to his arms moving. His eyes catching sight of his bloody torso and jacket. Grian yelped, his fingers digging deeper into his arms creating little divots in his skin. Scar’s eyes widened at Grian’s yelp of fear and he remembered the blood that coated him. 

“Hey! Hey, it’s-it’s not my blood! I’m fine! I’me fine, see?” Scar said, trying to calm down the other. He pulled his sleeves back to show that he had no scratches on his arms that would cause bleeding. He pointed to the body in the background, “It’s the zombie’s blood! So we’re fine. It’s fine, we’re okay!” He tried to comfort. 

His words did nothing but cause a sob to come from Grian’s throat as he stared at the body. Grian was crying now, tears running down his face as he stared, eyes shaking in their sockets. He covered his mouth like he was either trying to hide his sobbing or stop himself from vomiting, either were possible. 

Scar flinched, realizing he’d definitely said the wrong thing. “Sorry, sorry. Void-I’m not good at this.” He muttered, looking around for anything that could help them. Scar took a deep breath, trying to remember how his brother had calmed down his friend. He took a deep breath, placing his hands upwards on his knees so Grian could see them. “Grian. Grian, look at me.”

Grian shook his head, covering his mouth as he continued to sob. His other hand wrapped around his stomach like he was sick. From how he was looking, it was possible. He was pale, and sticky from sweat and tears that were coating his face. He was staring at the bloody scene trying to ignore Scar to his best ability. 

“Grian.” Scar snapped, a bit forcefully. It was enough to get Grian to look away from the scene and back at him instead. “I-” Scar stopped, he didn’t even know what to say to help, “You have to calm down.” 

“I killed him.” Grian sobbed, leaning forward as if he was condemning himself.

Scar shook his head, “It was already dead.”

“I said I’d never do it again.” Grian shook his head, wiping his eyes with his wrist. “I swore-but you were going to-it was going to kill you. You would’ve died.”

Scar nodded, “Yeah, I know. And I’m honestly really thankful you did what you did.” He felt a rumble of laughter escape his throat but it was lost in mixture with the crying. 

“No-No, you can’t-you can’t say that. I-I killed him.” Grian reminded, black eyes tormented with tears and fear clouded the void like stars in them. 

“He was already dead.” Scar repeated, a single bloody hand wrapping around Grian’s red knuckled grip on his stomach. 

Grian choked back another sob, nodding, “He was already dead.” He repeated back. Grian looked down to see where Scar had cupped his hand that was wrapped around him. The sight of more blood caused Grian’s eyes to widened, his breath picked up as he checked over his hands. 

“Breath.” Scar reminded, earning a sharp intake from Grian, “Look,” the brunet showed off his own hands once again, “Not hurt. I’m okay. No bites, scrapes or cuts.” He pointed to Grian’s hands and limbs, knowing not to touch him with his already bloody hands, “You’re okay. No cuts, bites, scrapes, bruises, anything. It’s just a little blood.”

Grian whimpered, his hand covering his mouth tightened, “I’m gonna throw up.” He mumbled, before doubling over on himself to the side. Scar cringed as Grian did exactly as he said he would. 

The blond doubled over and added to the pool of blood with a new substance that neither wanted to look at for longer than they had to. 

Grian wheezed, holding his stomach tightening, coughing up as much bile and fluid as he could. He felt his throat and face burn as another wave of nausea came over him. Scar frowned, moving just a tad to be a bit behind the blond as he threw up. His feathers puffed up as he exhaled his lunch. 

He sat up after a bit, his eyes lidded with exhaustion. His face was pale and sticky with a mixture of sickness, tears, and sweat. A tiny bit of blood could be seen on his cheek, but Scar wouldn’t say anything about it. 

“Any better?” Scar asked, trying to sound hopeful. 

Grian nodded, and without a second thought he was leaning on Scar’s side. The parrot hybrid was too out of it to even notice he was leaning on the other or that he’d laid his head onto the brunet’s shoulder. 

Scar, however, noticed it immediately, flinching a tad at the contact. He stared at the blond wondering if he’d move once he realized, but the avian didn’t even flinch. Scar carefully removed his arm from under the blond and laid it around the other’s shoulders to help keep him in place. 

They sat there for a long time, together. Neither one moved, neither wanted to or had the energy to. They sat, staring at the corpse of the twice dead body. They didn’t speak, they didn’t move, they could barely breathe under the weight of what was happening. 

“I think I get what you meant earlier.” Scar mumbled, “When you said you didn’t want to use a gun.” Green eyes meant tired black that were clouded in dazed fear and sadness. “I get it now.”

Grian nodded, slowly and unsure. 

Scar did understand it now. He wasn’t sure what, and he wasn’t sure when but Grian had seen something. He’d been through something that caused him to have such severe reactions to blood and death. Somehow Grian had been forced to kill, been forced to see someone killed, or at the very least been hurt by someone. The idea that Grian had been put through that and anything else left Scar with a sick feeling in his stomach. 

He cared about Grian. He did. 

The idea that anyone could hurt someone so severely without remorse left him ill. He was going to protect Grian. Friends, partners, it didn’t matter. Grian had saved his life in more ways than one in the past weeks, there was no way he was letting the blond suffer alone anymore. 

He loved Grian, and even if he didn’t love him back, he’d still love him.

“We should take the rest of the day off.” Scar muttered, staring at his blood covered hands.

Grian hummed, too tired to answer, “‘m fine.”

Scar shook his head, “Did you find water?” 

Grian nodded, slowly and awkwardly. “The back.”

Scar nodded, “Okay, come on- let’s get this stuff off.” He muttered, slowly moving to stand up and offering a helping hand to the blond who stumbled as he tried to stand. Scar wrapped one arm around the blond and let the other grab his bag from the ground. They walked into the back, where Scar found the sink Grian had mentioned. 

Grian sat down on a counter, hopping up to the top with the last of his strength. Scar stole some cloth piece from a drawer, dampening it. He held his hand out for Grian to show him his hands, the blond offered over his blood covered knuckles to the brunet who carefully started to clean off the red. 

Grian watched with sharp eyes as the red slowly started to disappear from his sight. He shut his eyes tightly when it got to be too much. The mixture of water, the last drops of soap and the rough cloth melded together into something uncomfortably familiar. 

Scar cleaned off the blood from the blond’s hands and moved to his wrists. The brunet pulled the long sleeves up a bit just to clean the blood from them. He wasn’t expecting to see the lines and scars that marred the avian’s skin. Just slivers of scar’s poking out front he sleeves as he pulled them back slightly. Scar wasn’t sure how far the scars went up, or how large they were but he knew they were there now. He could see old bruises slowly coloring over in better skin tones. 

Grian didn’t pull his arms away from Scar as he wiped the blood from his arms. In fact, it didn’t seem like Grian had recognized Scar had seen the marks. Grian gaze was still tired and dazed, something that wasn’t completely focused on Scar’s movements. 

Scar replaced the sleeves back to their original place, before cleaning off the bloody spots on the other man’s face. Grian’s eyes widened just a tad at the feeling of the cloth on his cheek but even as he flinched he let Scar continue. 

When Scar was finished, he moved to clean his own hands. He roughly scraped the blood off his hands, trying to erase any sight of pinkish sticky substance. He fixated himself on getting the red and blue off his skin and clothes as Grian sat beside the sink staring at him. 

“I didn’t want to do it.” Grian mumbled.

Scar paused, looking over to Grian, “What do you mean?”

“I didn’t want to kill them.” Grian whispered, like he was admitting something. 

“I would have died.” Scar responded, just as quiet. 

Grian shook his head, “I’m not talking about that. I didn’t want to kill them. I killed a lot. I didn’t want to. He made me. And then they made me. I swore I wouldn’t do it again.” 

Scar wasn’t sure how to respond-had Grian been forced to kill before? Of course, that’s what he was saying, Scar! Don’t play dumb! 

“You were forced into it. You never did it on your own?” Scar asked.

“They tricked me.” Grian said, as if something else was controlling him to speak and he wasn’t even sure what he was saying anymore, “they made me.”

“Then you shouldn’t blame yourself.” Scar responded, “You didn’t want to.”

“I still did it.” Grian stated, firmer. “I killed, Scar.”

“How do you think I survived this long?” Scar asked, staring at the black void eyes. Those eyes that held too much fear and sadness. “I’ve killed, Grian. And you’re still here.”

“No-Scar, I’ve hurt people. Not zombies-people.” Grian emphasized, leaning forward. 

“I forgive you.” Scar said, just as firmly. 

“You-you can’t do that.” Grian shook his head, letting his head fall into his hands. “You weren’t there. I didn’t hurt you.”

“Then why confess like you did?” Scar asked.

“Because I shot at you!” Grian shouted back, like he had to remind Scar. 

“You saved my life.” Scar decided, staying just as calm as he had been. 

“But I might be the reason it ends.” Grian admitted, sadly. 

Scar sighed, “Neither of us are perfect. Neither of us are good. We’re just doing what we have to to keep surviving. So stop talking like you’re some terrible person, if you were you wouldn’t feel this bad about the past. A past you had and have no control in.” Scar answered, continuing to clean himself off. He finished, and grabbed his bag from the chair he’d left it in. He handed it over to Grian, hoping the man would still carry it rather than forcing his shoulder to endure it more. 

Grian sighed, taking the bag and shouldering it next to his own, he hopped off the counter and the two started to exit the hallway. 

_________________________________

It wasn’t long before the falling leaves turned into powdered snow on the ground. A terrible chill overtaking the abandoned city as they tried to search for anything to keep them warm for the upcoming winter. 

They’d spent weeks in the city, and still hadn’t disabled every trap. They still hadn’t searched every building. Their bags getting heavier as the days continued, but the longer they continued the more they used. Bandages used to clean wounds and cover bruises. Food and water consumed each day, lessening the weight on their shoulders. Ammo and weapons used daily during their constant rumbles with the old citizens. 

Grian still refused to touch a gun, and Scar never pushed him for it. He handled any long ranged weapon, but the blond was still fairly well trained in close hand combat with the dead creatures. 

As the temperature dropped, Scar started to notice differences in the avian. At first the puffed up wings were something Scar joked about, pointing out and earning a hit to the head with a wing when he did. In his defense, Grian’s puffed up wings were quite cute. The parrot hybrid would dip his head into his chest to keep warm, his shoulder raised as they walked. 

The longer they continued in the cold air the more worried Scar was getting. 

It wasn’t his first winter in this area after all!

Scar was well equipped for the winter. He’d been preparing for himself, like every year. He had his scarf, jacket, his extra clothes in case he got wet. He had boots, extra food stored away at his base, blankets he’d stolen away in his base. But these were all things he had for himself, he was in no way prepared for a second person. 

Which is what led him to his anxiously walking through the city on a rather cold day. Grian was stumbling behind him, wings wrapped around himself like they’d help cover him like a blanket. They did little to cover him from the chill and snow. 

Scar’s eyes danced along the roadside signs, looking for a shop or place that would carry coats, blankets, clothes, anything to help his new found friend. However, most everything had been picked over and the few things left were too ruined to use. 

“You doing alright?” Scar asked, his voice carrying in the cold breeze behind him. He looked behind himself, when he didn’t get an immediate answer. 

Grian was multiple steps behind him, shivering desperately and breathing roughly. The air was cold enough they could see the multiple puffs of air escaping Grian’s mouth. 

Scar frowned, he moved to be beside the avian, rather than in front. Scar wrapped an arm around the other man’s shoulders, careful not to touch the feathers that had puffed up in trap heat. 

Grian nodded, even as Scar continued to walk beside him. Scar looked around the roads, searching for signs. 

“You’ve asked me five times…” Grian breathed out, his words chopped up between breaths. 

“You’re freezing.” Scar warned, like the other hadn’t been aware.

“I know.” Grian mumbled, without any better judgment he nestled closer to the other. He shivered, “Do you think-Do you think we could take a break?”

Scar nodded immediately, “Yeah, we can break into one of these buildings and wait out a bit.” 

Grian nodded, as Scar started leading him to a close building. It was a bit smaller than the others but looked to be maybe an old bookstore. Grian leaned up against the window, as Scar pushed on the door. 

The door was stuck, blocked by something. Scar tried to pry it open and tried to push his way in, using all his weight as he ran into the door. He shook his head, “Oh, for crying out-” He huffed. Grian raised an eyebrow as Scar moved away from the door. Scar grabbed something from the ground and backed away from the window. 

Grian scooched out the way just a tad, as Scar threw whatever it was at the window. The window cracked, and crashed inwards. It left a open gap into the bookstore, Scar sighed looking back to Grian who looked unimpressed, “No one’s gonna care.”

Grian sighed, moving to look at the broken window.

“Just be careful.” Scar said, as he helped Grian through the window, making sure the avian didn’t cut himself on any of the shards. Once Grian stepped inside the building, his feet crushing broken glass, he stepped aside for Scar to come in. 

Scar maneuvered himself inside safely, he sighed, seeing his breath inside the building he groaned. He looked around, there had to be something he could block the window with to keep the chill out.

He pointed to the back of the book store where a little sitting area had been preserved. “Go sit down.” He told the avian, who was too tired to argue like normal. Grian stumbled over to the sitting area, letting himself fall into one of the chairs. He curled up, bringing his wings to cover him the best he could. 

Scar watched the parrot hybrid curl into himself, and got to work. He walked over to a bookshelf and started to pull it over to block the window they’d broken. It took him longer than he would’ve liked to get the bookshelf to sufficiently block the window. 

He walked around the bookstore, letting Grian have some time to himself to calm down and warm up. Maybe he could light a fire? Or if he could find something warm for him to drink? Some blankets would be good too, there was no way they were sleeping without blankets tonight. 

He wandered down the aisles, before seeing a small cafe section of the bookstore. He smiled, he really hoped some of it was still operable. He jumped over the counter, searching the drawers, counters, and pantries for anything. 

He could see an old microwave, still plugged into the wall. He pressed a few buttons seeing if it still worked. The microwave didn’t turn on. Scar moved to the oven and stove, that were pressed against the wall. Looking closer, Scar could see that the stove was fueled by gas instead of electricity. He silently celebrated to whatever god there might have been. 

He searched the drawers with a newfound vigor, rustling through the items for a lighter. He found an old box of matches in one of the drawers, pulling them out he was lucky to find a few left in the box. He clicked the stovetop on, lighting a match for the fire to start. 

Scar cheered quietly, as the fire started on the stove. He started pulling things from the cabinets and pantries he could use. He filled a pot with water, letting it sit on the stove. He waited anxiously for the water to boil and heat up, before dropping an old bag of tea inside. He had no clue how he’d gotten lucky enough to find the tea bags, but he wasn’t going to complain. 

He let the tea seep, before pouring it into a old cup he’d wiped out and cleaned to the best of his ability. He carried the cup to Grian who was still sitting in the sitting area curled up. 

“Here.” Scar mumbled, sitting next to the avian. He set the cup of tea on the tiny table. Grian looked up from his knees where he’d been hiding and his eyes widened at the steam erupting from the mug. 

“How?” Grian asked, inching forward and taking the cup without a second thought. He held the cup in his hands, gladly taking up as much heat as he could. 

Scar smiled, “There’s an old cafe through there. Found a gas fire stove, and some matches. Got a bit lucky, I guess.” 

Grian nodded, eagerly taking the drink and sipping on it. 

Scar sat, as Grian drank in all the warmth. His leg bounced up and down, as he looked around for something he could do. He still needed to get Grian better clothes, and he still needed to find blankets. “I’m going to go look for blankets.” Scar said, standing up.

Grian nodded, “Kay, just-give me a second.”

Scar paused, “no, you stay here.”

“Scar-”

“No, stay here and warm up. If you need to, there should be more matches in the cafe area. Light a fire, make more tea, just stay warm-do not, do not go outside.” Scar stressed, “I’ll come back before the night hits.”

“I can help. I’ll be fine.” Grian argued, fighting back a sneeze.

“You’re going to get sick, and we have nothing to help if you do get sick. You’re freezing, and don’t try to deny it. Stay safe. Stay warm. Stay in here.” Scar informed, turning away from the blond, “Please.”

Grian sighed, shivering, “Fine.”

Scar smiled, nodding. He left the blond there, and headed for the door. He found the problem from before, that had been blocking their entrance. He shoved the fallen bookshelf aside, heading back into the winter air. 

He walked the same path they’d been taking, searching for anything useful. He wasn’t sure how long he walked, but the sun was still up so he was glad it hadn’t gotten to be night. He found a strip mall, eventually and broke his way into the shops. 

He searched the mall shops, finding any warm clothes he could get his hands on. He grabbed some boots that would hopefully fit him, he grabbed blankets and covers that had been abandoned in the bedroom section. He searched the clothing section for warmer clothes, if only the apocalypse had started in the fall, but instead it had begun in the dead of summer and the only thing in stores at the time had been swim suits and such. 

He went over the store’s clothes section once again picking up an old red poncho from a rack. It wouldn’t be entirely warm, but it would be better than what they had at the moment. Scar took the poncho, taking a scarf that was a lighter shade of red. 

He was happy enough to head back to where he’d left Grian, walking through the cold to get back to the old bookstore. He carried the blankets, clothes and boots he’d grabbed, shoving the door open when he got close enough. 

The door open with a gust of wind, sending a new chill into the store. 

Scar slammed the door shut, dropping the items on the floor and letting out a breath of relief. 

He walked back to the sitting area he’d left Grian at to find the blond curled up, asleep, shivering as his feathers puffed up more before laying back down again. Scar sighed, picking up the cup Grian had drank all of the tea and the cup was no longer warm. He shook the man’s shoulder, waking him up after a moment. 

“I got some blankets. And some clothes that will hopefully help.” Scar announced, to the half asleep avian. Grian nodded, though, rubbing his eyes. He stood up a bit sloppily but walked with Scar over to where he’d dropped his new offerings. 

Scar knelt down, handing over the boots, “Boots,” He handed over the poncho, “Sweater-thing-I don’t know what it’s called.”

Grian chuckled, taking the poncho and pulling it over his head to lay against his wings and shoulders. He wrapped himself up, like it was a blanket, he drowned himself in the warmth of cotton. Scar pushed a few blankets aside, “And blankets, there’s probably some more stuff too.” 

“Thanks.” Grian mumbled, replacing his worn out shoes for the newer boots.

“No problem.” Scar said, without hesitation. “We should hunker down here for the night. It’ll be warmer than walking out there for some other building.”

Grian nodded. The two slowly set up their campsite. Grian created his nest, and settled down, wrapping himself in his wings, the new clothes, and blankets. Scar laid out his sleeping bag, laying down for the night. 

“Want me to do the story for tonight?” Scar asked, once he’d laid down. He looked over to the blond, who was still catching his breath and shivering some. 

“Please.” He coughed through. 

Scar nodded, “One of the first days into this apocalypse, I broke my legs-”

_____________________________

They kept things simple for the next two days. If it was absolutely needed, Scar would go out for whatever they needed, but otherwise they stayed inside to wait out the upcoming blizzard. A day after the blizzard, they started moving again. 

Grian had found he enjoyed the quiet moments with the other. They’d spent what had to be the most domestic days Scar had experienced since the beginning of the apocalypse. Honestly, the brunet wasn’t sure if he wanted to leave the little bookstore, he’d enjoyed the days and wasn’t too excited to leave them. 

Still, Grian had made the point that they couldn’t stay in one place for too long. Even if it was freezing outside. 

The snow had coated the city in white. If they didn’t know the current situation it would’ve been pretty. However, the snow was tainted with grays, browns, and other colors that took away from the beauty. 

Grian had found his way ahead of the brunet. The snow was up to their ankles, making the trek down the road harder and harder to work through. Grian paused in his walking to look behind him to Scar who was a bit away but still walking. The man seemed to be in his head about something, he was looking around the scenery instead of looking ahead at where they were going. His eyes dancing around the city.

Grian shook his head, looking back to their path.

They continued in the silence for a few seconds before Grian felt something hit him in the shoulder from behind. His shoulder suddenly felt a lot colder than it had before. He looked over to see that snow was coating his red shoulder cape. He looked behind him to see Scar with a knowing and guilty smirk. 

The brunet looked like he’d just gotten caught throwing something, and without even having to ask Grian knew what had happened. 

“Did you just throw a snowball at me?” He asked anyway.

Scar righted himself, straightening his jacket with a smirk, “No.”

Grian turned around, pointing at him, “You did, you threw a snowball at me.” The blond walked back taking his own footprints to stand right in front of the brunet. The other giggled, as Grian glared up at him. Scar had to look down at the man to see his face as between how close Grian had gotten and their height difference. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Scar smirked.

Grian sighed, he pulled one of the bags closer to his shoulder, “You know now might not be the best time to have a snowball fight, man.” 

Scar pouted, “Oh, come on, it’s the perfect time! Free reign of an entire city? No people to get embarrassed with. It’s perfect!”

“The tons of zombies waiting for us to let our guard down.” Grian said, poking the man in the chest. 

“You have to live a little to survive, Gri.” Scar smirked, “Come on, just hit me!”

“Why would I do that?” Grian asked, letting his head fall to one side 

“For fun!” Scar smiled, motioning for Grian to go ahead. “Just throw it at me!”

Grian had no idea what this man was doing half the time. He seemed like an utter mystery at how he had so much energy one moment and none the next. How he spend his life acting like everything could be beautiful, like there weren’t terrible creatures waiting to kill them 

Scar sighed, bending down and rolling a pile of snow in his hands until it formed a ball. He held the snowball in one hand, pulling Grian hand by the wrist up and placing the snowball in his hands 

Immediately, Grian felt the freezing temperature on his fingers and the palm of his hand. The idea that the snowball would just crumble in his hands. It could tale one squeeze and all the work Scar placed into it would be null and void, as it fell to the mountain of snow beneath their feet. 

Grian stared at the snowball, feeling all too familiar with the feeling of it in his hands and all it meant in his mind. He looked up to the brunet without moving his head.

Scar took a few careful steps back, before he was a good few feet away. He motioned for Grian to throw it, “Come on! Just try it!” 

Grian frowned, there was something about that smile that made him want to do it. Some part of him wanted to follow this crazed man and be led into whatever world he saw just for the heck of it. And if this was the entrance he needed to see it…

Grian rounded his shoulder before throwing the snowball at Scar with all he had. He shut his eyes quickly but opened them the moment it collided with the brunet. The snowball hit him right in the shoulder, his bandaged one.

Scar jumped a little, unexpecting the sudden shot of pain that came from his shoulder once the snowball hit him. He clasped his hand on his shoulder, confused, but as Grian began panicking he could only laugh.

“Scar! Oh, no. Oh no.” Grian shouted, before flinching waiting for some kind of reaction from the other. “Are you okay?” He asked, rushing forward, trying not to trip on the snow that was up to their ankles. 

Scar laughed louder as Grian started to fret over him. The brunet patting the blond’s hands when he ghosted over the man’s shoulder. Scar smiled, “I’m fine!”

“I-” Grian paused, “I just hit you in the shoulder! Your hurt shoulder!” Grian reminded, running a hand through his hair.

Scar laughed, “I know. You’ve got good aim.”

“Aim?” Grian looked from the brunet’s shoulder to his face, glaring at the smile, “I didn’t aim for your shoulder, you dork! I didn’t aim!”

“Then I’d say it was luck.” Scar decided.

“Luck? Scar!” Grian fumed, stomping his foot. “That could’ve seriously hurt you.” 

“Oh it did hurt.” Scar smiled.

“What?” Grian paused, confused.

“Gri, that’s the whole point. Well-not the whole point-that’s just a part of it. Have you never had a snowball fight before?” Scar asked, this time he was confused 

“I-no.” Grian answered, shuffling on his feet, “Why would you suggest that if you knew it could hurt you?”

Scar sighed, “Because I know you wouldn’t do that on purpose. It’s just some light-hearted fun, and honestly, in this situation I could use some of that from time to time. I don’t care if I get a little pain if you ‘happen’ to hit me in the shoulder. I don’t want that to hold me back from enjoying what parts of life I have left to live.” Scar described. 

Grian froze, staring at the brown eyes that explained what Grian felt was a different life. Some optimistic outlook on what was left. 

Scar smiled, bending down and rolling more snow into a ball. He placed the snowball in one of Grian’s outstretched arms. Grian looked down, eyes narrowing at the thing. “Do it again.” Scar decided.

As Grian stared at the snowball in his hand, Scar backed away once more collecting his own snowballs in his hands and the crook of his elbow. Grian couldn’t decide. He wanted so badly to join in on the recklessness to just enjoy it, but there was that piece telling him to continue. That piece telling him the dangers of just what he was about to initiate. 

Grian felt the feeling of another snowball pelting him in the side. He looked up to see Scar already throwing his own, giggling as he hid behind an old bin. 

Grian smiled.

And in that moment he found he didn’t care.

He aimed, throwing the snowball at the brunet, dusting the other’s hair in white. Scar laughed, ruffling his hair to get the snow out, as Grian bent down to create his own ammo. 

Within seconds, Grian was laughing, he was enjoying it. 

They didn’t care about being loud, or attracting attention. They didn’t care if they broke into stores just to continue their game. If they tracked snow and mud into a random supermarket they didn’t care. If they destroyed a bar, using tables and chairs as forts to hide behind, they didn’t even notice. 

If Scar ended up taking a tumble down a flight of stairs, they did nothing more than laugh and continue, the problem being ignored for a later date. If Grian walked into a tripwire, the only consequence the two worried about was the fact Scar could pelt him with snowballs.

They could both feel the wind and chill getting to their fingers and cheeks, but the more they continued the less they really wanted to stop. 

Eventually, they ended up in an old courtyard between a few stores. Grian had been able to get to the center of the courtyard without even seeing head or tail of Scar. He looked around, trying to catch the brown jacket that the other wore.

He didn’t expect Scar to run into him from behind, pushing him to the ground while laughing. And suddenly, Grian was on the ground, the breath knocked out of him as Scar laughed above him. 

“Hi.” Scar smirked, staring at black eyes. 

Grian laughed, letting his hand grip a bunch of snow from underneath him. “Hi.” He answered back, before shoving the other’s face full of snow. 

“Aw! Man, that’s not fair.” Scar huffed, rolling over and standing up. He rubbed his face clean of snow, as Grian laughed, still sitting on the snowy ground. 

Grian watched as the other brushed his face off, and suddenly there was something else in Grian’s mind other than just the snowball fight.

Oh-he liked him.

Grian’s eyes widened, his face tightening as he realized. He felt his face heat up with more than just what he hoped was just hypothermia. The blond quickly covered his face in his hands, as Scar looked back over. 

“We should probably warm up now, anyway.” Scar smiled, looking back and Grian felt himself fall deeper in the pit in his mind. Scar offered a hand to the blond, and Grian immediately took it without thinking. 

He nodded. “Yeah.” He paused, nervously, “Yeah, sounds good.”

Scar smiled, “Cool, I was thinking we try and find some old tea stuff again-or if we get lucky hot chocolate.”

Grian smiled, tightly, “Sounds great.”

________________________

Two days later and Grian still was reeling with the new information his mind was giving him. The constant worry about the other’s safety as they walked through landmines he wasn’t sure would go off. He couldn’t get the thought out of his head. 

They’d just been walking around the city, closer to the suburbs. There were houses stretching out across in a sprawling neighborhood. Roads that led down to dead ends, and roads that led deeper into the mess of a neighborhood. 

It wasn’t just the neighborhood they were exploring, they’d gone into a few of the homes prompting a few close encounters with a few deadly creatures. Nothing that ever happened deterred Scar from walking into the next one. 

They’d been quite lucky to find an old home with a garden and greenhouse out back where vegetables and fruits were still growing. Grian had been smart enough to collect a few things to plant later on, between seeds and other rooted vegetables. 

They walked down the middle of the street having nothing to keep them from taking up as much space as possible on the road. Scar was randomly picking up pebbles and stones from the ground to throw up ahead. He’d found one specific rock, that he claimed was the best yet, and continued to throw and pick it up on their walk. Grian watched in confusion at the constant repetitive motion, joining in by kicking a few pebbles when they got in his way. 

Most of the houses and homes they passed were crumbling and overgrown. There were trees covering pathways, overgrown grass out front obstructing the view to the home. The windows were broken, and the doors mostly open or at least cracked. Some trees had even fallen on the roofs of homes, limbs and stick scattered across the yards. 

As Scar picked up his rock once again, one perfectly round and heavy in his hand. His eyes glanced over to the house it’d landed in front of. He looked over to see a well kept home.

There was a well kept home?

Scar paused, standing back up straight and turning to look over. His arms dropped to his side and Grian walked up beside him having stayed a few feet behind. 

“That’s odd, right?” Scar asked, pointing to the house in front of them. 

The home had recently cut grass that looked absurd next to the obscenely long blades of the neighbors. The windows were in perfect shape, and curtains had been closed around them. The yard was clean with nothing cluttering up space. The door was shut. 

It stood out.

“Weird.” Grian muttered, taking a step forward, hands on the straps on the bags.

Scar took another step forward, “Should we take a look?”

Grian looked back over to the brunet, eyes glancing down to the gun on his belt. Scar followed his gaze, and Grian spoke calmly, “Just keep an eye out.”

Scar nodded. Recently they’d agreed that while Grian would in no way hold a gun or shoot after what had happened, they both knew it was still needed. Scar was the only one to hold a gun, or any weapon that was modern in any means. 

They followed the path up to the front door, Grian hopping up onto the porch and looking into the windows as he did. Scar just behind him, trying the doorknob. “It’s locked.”

“Locked?” Grian muttered, confused, walking over to the other. Scar motioned for the blond to try the door, and when it wouldn’t budge Grian turned to the brunet, “Maybe we should just let this one go. I’m not sure-”

Before Grian could finish, Scar had thrown the rock he’d been keeping up with into the window crashing it. Grian jumped, yelping in surprise as he glared at the brunet who smiled sheepishly. 

“We’re in?” Scar offered, shrugging with a smile.

Grian huffed, “You have to stop doing that.” He walked up to the window, Scar helping him through just like before. Afterwards, once inside, Grian brushed off the glass from his red shawl. Scar crawled through the hole in the window, stepping on the broken shards with little care. 

The inside of the home was just as odd and well kept as the outside. 

There was a living room, which they stood in, a kitchen to the right. There was a hallway to a few different rooms, presumably bedrooms and bathrooms. Scar ‘oohed’ as he walked up to the fireplace at the center of the living room. 

There wasn’t dust in the rooms like there had been before, nothing was broken, there were no sounds of the undead. It was even warm.

“This is nice.” Scar muttered, looking around the room in awe. He flopped down onto the couch that faced the fireplace. He sat up straight patting the spot next to him. Grian looked around the room in a bit more confusion than awe. 

“I don’t like this.” Grian whispered.

“What’s not to like? This place is great! Better than any of the others on this block.” Scar muttered, rolling his eyes at the last house they’d been in. 

“Scar! This place is too nice. Have you forgotten about the apocalypse outside?” Grian emphasized. 

“Maybe they had a good cleaning service?” Scar offered. Grian scoffed, crossing his arms and glaring at the man. Scar sighed, sinking into the sofa, “Fine, fine.”

Scar stood up, as Grian began walking around the house carefully. The avian tiptoeing the best he could as they walked through the house. He couldn’t hear anyone else in the home, but that didn’t stop his anxiety. 

Scar walked down the hallway, pulling the gun from his holster and slowly opening doors. Grian took the chance to inspect the kitchen, finding cabinets left open. He pulled a few drawers, looking at the random assortment of items inside. The kitchen was too full to have been abandoned a long time ago. 

Grian huffed, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck raise the more uncomfortable this got. He opened up the pantry door, to find a staircase leading downwards.

He paused.

“Scar.” he called, trying to keep his voice quiet but also loud enough for the other to hear. “Scar!” He tried a bit louder.

In seconds, Scar was running into the room, his shoes sliding on the wooden floor. “You okay?” He asked, the moment he saw the parrot hybrid. Grian nodded, but pointed to the staircase. 

Grian saw the grip Scar had on his gun tighten, as he walked up next to him. The brunet staring down into the basement. “Okay, that’s weird.”

“Yeah.” Grian replied.

Scar’s mouth formed a thin line, and he held a finger to his lips for them both to be quiet. He pressed both his hands around the handle of the gun, as he walked down the stairs. Grian followed, softly and quietly behind him. The avian pulling out the ax the other had given him as a weapon of his own.

The closer they got to the bottom, the more they were able to see the basement. 

“It’s like a bunker.” Scar muttered, quietly, looking around the sealed walls and lines of shelving that held boxes of equipment. 

Grian looked over the brunet’s shoulder the best he could, “Was there any sign an apocalypse was going to happen?” He asked, moving around Scar to look at the shelving of boxes all labeled with years and dates.

Scar shook his head, “Whoever did this must have been really paranoid.” 

“Or incredibly smart.” There was a second click of a gun that had Grian jumping out of his skin. Scar spun around, gun raising to sight of the other person. 

Grian had jumped around in the scare, eyes widening at the sight of someone holding a gun to them. 

There was nothing remarkable about the man. He looked nothing more than what would’ve been expected by an apocalypse prepper. Only there was something more sure in the man’s eyes than what Grian had seen when he met Scar. Something he’d seen in Sam. The glint in the eyes that said they were glad to shoot and only seconds away from pulling the trigger again. 

The man looked between both Scar and Grian, opting to keep his gun on the avian. 

Scar shifting his feet, catching the guys attention. “Put it down.” Scar demanded, there was something in his voice that Grian hadn’t heard before. Something that sounded like fear, but only a bit more, and hidden over by the fact Scar was trying to put on some act of confidence. 

The guy didn’t look back at Scar, glaring at Grian, “Why should I do that?”

“Look neither of us are zombie’s-” Grian tried to clarify.

“Shut it, freak!” The man shouted, taking a step towards the avian. Grian jumped in place, his eyes expanding at the words. 

“Hey, watch it.” Scar warned, taking a step forward. The gun in his hands raised purposefully. “Step away from him.” 

The man looked over to Scar, but his attention was still on Grian, “What the hell are you doing?” He asked, snarling. 

“Excuse me?” Scar scoffed, “You’re holding my partner at gunpoint, I have plenty of reason for the next few minutes. And as he was saying, neither of us are infected so if you’d be kind enough, I think we’d all like to stay alive-”

“He’s your what?” The man snarled, glaring at Grian in disgust. Scar looked over to the blond, to see his hands shaky and his grip on the ax had lightened up. The blond’s eyes glazed over as he stared ahead at the barrel of the other’s gun. 

Scar grimaced, “He’s my friend and partner. So if you threaten him, you’re threatening me too.”

The man looked at Scar in confusion, “Do you have any idea what that thing is?” The man scoffed, at the look of confusion and anger on Scar’s face that flashed, “Of course, you don’t, how have you survived?” He muttered, the man turned back to Grian, “What kind of trick did you plan on him? Promise him something? Did you really think you’d be safe down here, think you could get some willing sap to protect you?”

“What?” Grian muttered.

“You hit your head?” Scar asked the man, “Cause right now, you’re not making any sense. I’d advise you to start.” He took a closer step towards Grian, trying to block the man’s view of the blond. 

The man scoffed, “Your partner is one of the damn things that started this whole mess in the first place-Watcher.”

Grian flinched, and Scar looked over the moment he moved in worry. He saw the blond flinch, and his wings twitch behind him. Confusion passed over the brunet, he shook his head, “Why should I care?”

Grian looked up to Scar, brow furrowed. He’d just been told exactly what he was, he was acting like he had no idea what a Watcher was.

The man smirked, “You can’t honestly be that dumb. That thing is part of the reason this all started. Those Watchers infected everyone, made them all zombies to play in their little game. We’re just chess pieces. And now there’s one in this room, that’s tricked you into thinking it’s something else. So either shoot it or I will!”

Grian flinched again, his eyes dancing around the room for some escape. His wings twitched behind him trying to get him to fly away, but they were underground, there’d be no point. Scar was going to certainly kill him now. There was no way the man was going to overlook this. He hated the way he’d been living, and Grian was just a piece of why he’d been stuck on this world in the first place. 

“You do anything to him, and I’ll kill you right now. You won’t even get the glory of being killed by the hoard, you’ll just die to someone like me knowing you could’ve changed it if you were a little nicer.” Scar said, stance unwavering. 

Grian snapped his head over to the brunet. “Scar? What are you-”

“If you won’t do it that’s fine, but I’m not letting some monster like that roam free.” The man said, before pulling the trigger on his gun. Grian snapped back to the other man, mind going blank as he felt the familiar feeling of pain in his side. 

Scar hadn’t taken a second longer than he could before pulling the trigger on his own gun. The gun perfectly aimed at the man’s head killing him instantly. The man dropped to the floor, pooling blood around him and the bunker as Scar dropped his arm to his side. 

The brunet snapped to the blond at his side that was slowly sinking to the floor. 

There was no way to describe the pain in Grian’s side other than to compare it to his highschool. The feeling of a bullet in his abdomen, puncturing his skin and veins to yield an unhealthy amount of blood. Grian covered the wound with his hand, pressing his hand into it immediately to try and stop the blood flow. While he didn’t scream at the gunshot, he let out a chirp from the pain of pushing into the wound. 

He squinted his eyes, trying to keep tears from overflowing his eyes. He felt his other hand being grabbed by Scar as he helped him to the floor. 

“Shit-Shit-shoot-.” Scar corrected himself, kneeling down next to the blond. Grian opened his eyes to see the body of the man in front of him, the man’s blood pooling around him. He kicked his legs trying to get away from the circle of blood around the man. Scar noticed the panic in his eyes and the shakiness of his hands.

The brunet carefully grabbed him under his arms and pulled him farther from the scene, until Grian was leaned up against the railing of the staircase. 

Grian looked down to the bullet wound in his side, wincing at the movement. The blond wasn’t even sure what the brunet was doing, the moment moving too quickly and slowly at the same time. He could feel Scar trying to unhook their bags from his shoulder. In the corner of his eyes he could see Scar dumping the bag out onto the floor. 

In the back of the avain’s mind, he hoped Scar didn’t find whatever he was looking for. He hoped that this would be what stopped the cycle. A simple gunshot on a hardcore world should work. He’d never have to worry about Sam again. He’d never have to think about the Watchers and what they’d done to him. He’d never have to worry over Pearl or Jimmy. He’d never disappoint Mumbo again. He’d never disappear from Scar-well he would but it wouldn’t be something they could’ve helped.

Scar didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve to have to deal with a Watcher. To be constantly in danger from the other’s want for entertainment. There would only be a short amount of time before the watcher’s targeted him too, if he began to associate himself with Grian. He didn’t deserve that. 

Grian was called back into the moment by the pain in his stomach again. He looked down to see, Scar was packing the wound. 

The brunet had found the bandages they’d been saving and was packaging them into the wound to absorb as much blood as possible. He gritted his teeth, a bloody hand moving to grip the other’s wrist to try and stop him from whatever he was doing. 

Scar just ignored the tight grip on his wrist, letting Grian squeeze his arm as much as he could rather than complaining or shrugging him off. “I’m sorry.” He muttered, as he stuffed another rolled up bandage in the wound. 

“Scar, stop!” Grian tried to shout, but it came out through gritted teeth. 

Scar looked over to the blond’s eyes, a tiny smile on his face, “oh, good.” He sighed, “You’re back.”

“What?” Grian muttered, coughing up blood.

“You weren’t responding to me.” Scar sped out, shrugging off his jacket quicker than Grian thought possible. Scar quickly folded the thing up before placing it over the bandages. It didn’t hurt a lot as he laid the jacket over the wound, but then he whispered, “This is going to hurt-like a lot.”

Grian knew what was coming next, he’d experienced it in highschool plenty, but it didn’t make it any easier. Scar didn’t give much other warning before pressing his knee into the wound to keep his hands free. Grian twitched under the sudden burn in his side where the pain stemmed from. 

“Scar, Scar, stop. He was right. You need to stop.” Grian rambled, trying to force the words out as he fought back more screams of pain. 

Scar wasn’t paying a lot of attention to whatever Grian had to say. The other using his hands to shuffle through the contents on the floor. “Where are those blood bags?” Scar muttered to himself as he searched. 

“Scar, get off.” The blond grumbled using as much weight as he could to try and move the other. 

Scar looked back to the blond, “No, why-why would I do that? You could-you could die.”

Grian coughed, a trickle of blood running from his mouth, “I know.”

Scar frowned, shaking his head. “No. That’s not happening. Just-Just give me a second. I’ll find it.”

“Scar, he was telling the truth.” Grian slurred.

“I don’t care if he knew how to stop the whole apocalypse.” He fumed, although his anger didn’t seem to be for Grian, “I don’t care if what he said was true. I don’t believe it.” Scar found whatever he was looking for and set it aside. He lifted up his knee just for a second to add another layer of bandages as the blood soaked through his jacket. 

The moment Scar lifted up on the pressure, Grian took in a deep breath trying to inhale as much air as he could. “Scar-you need to let it go.”

Scar ignored, the other’s pleas, “Damn it.” he mumbled, “We need more bandages-” He looked around the bunker, trying to find anything he could use to stop the bleeding from Grian’s stomach. The brunet looked up the stairs to the main floor of the house, “I’m going to go up and grab some things. I’ll be right back.”

“Scar-don’t you-” Grian tried to stop the man, but Scar was already running up the stairs to the main floor. “I was talking to you.” Grian muttered, pressing his own hand onto his side out of instinct. 

Scar rushed into the kitchen opening the drawers and taking out everything he could to help. He tore through the cabinets, taking the rags and towels and piling them into his arms. He opened drawers pulling them out to see what they contained. 

He looked through a chest of drawers opening it up to see a box of sewing supplies. He cringed at the thought, but knew it was what he’d been looking for. He picked up the box, going back to the kitchen to look for any alcohol. 

He would be lying if he said this was his first time cleaning a bullet wound. Cleaning and stitching it for someone else, probably. But there was a reason he’d hurt his shoulder during his first few nights in the apocalypse. Not to mention his brother was extremely, well versed in first aid and quite the paranoid older brother when it came to Scar’s antics when they were younger. 

Scar opened one cabinet, pulling out the first bottle of wine he saw and started for the basement again. He was down the stairs before he’d even realized he was walking down them. 

Grian was trying to maintain a normal breathing routine, but kept keening and wincing as his chest moved each time. He had one bloody hand covering the wound, the other gripping his pant leg tightly. 

“Okay, okay, I got more stuff.” Scar murmured to himself, spreading out everything he’d grabbed. “You still with me, Grian?”

Grian opened a single eye to glare at Scar, “Scar, think about what you’re doing.”

Scar huffed, aggravation clear as Grian continued to try and convince him to stop, “I’ve had plenty of time to think.” Scar said, tapping Grian’s hand to get him to move it away from the wound. Grian didn’t remove his hand, keeping it pressed against the still bleeding wound. “Grian. Stop.”

“You help me-You’re helping one of them .” Grian said, cursing out the last word.

Scar blew out air from his nose, “I don’t care. I don’t know who they are. All I know is that I’m not letting you die. That’s not happening.”

“They’re dangerous. I’m dangerous, Scar. You help me, you're just proving to them what they are already thinking. You’ll be in more danger than just the zombie’s outside.” Grian coughed, keening at one spike of pain in his chest. 

Scar didn’t react. His mouth formed in a thin line as he stared at Grian, who just shut his eyes tightly to ignore the brunet’s gaze. 

“Just forget about it.” Grian whispered.

Scar frowned, deeper, he shook his head. “No. Not happening.” He moved Grian’s hand himself, placing it back on the floor, leaving the bloody hand to be cleaned for later. Instead, he folded up the rags and towels laying them down onto the wound and over his old jacket. He didn’t miss Grina’s flinch when he leaned his knee back onto the wound to keep it from bleeding anymore. 

The brunet grabbed the blood bag he’d been looking for earlier. He worked the blood bag, hooking it onto one of the railings of the stairs so the blood would drip into the coil. 

Grian turned his head just a tad to watch as Scar moved his arm so he could see the inside of his elbow. The brunet paused for only a moment as he saw the many scars and burns that littered the blond’s arm that he’d yet to see. Scar looked back to Grian wondering if the blond had something to say, but the blond’s eyes looked seconds away from slipping shut. 

Scar shook his head, trying to push the sight of the scars out of his head. Instead, he pressed the end of the coil and the needle into the inside of Grian’s arm. 

Scar turned towards the rest of their supplies, before remembering the fact that there might possibly still be a bullet inside his friend. He bit his lip, looking back to Grian who had most definitely passed out by now. 

“Okay, okay, I can do this.” Scar muttered, removing his knee from the blond’s wound. He grabbed one of the leftover towels, letting it drape over his hand as he removed a few of the towel and rags to get down to the wound.

He threw his jacket to the corner of the room. There was no saving it anymore, anyway. He held the towel close to the wound soaking up as much leftover blood as he could. He tried to see if the bullet was still visible or close to the surface of the wound. There was no exit wound. 

“Grian? Hey, do you know what to do?” Scar asked, even though the other was clearly not going to respond. There was still a slow rise and fall of his chest that told him that he was still breathing, but Scar’s nerves were keeping him from moving any farther. He knew however, that the longer he waited the more time he was wasting. Scar shook his head, “There’s no way, I’m gonna be able to get it out. Screw it-”

The brunet pulled the sewing kit closer to him. His fingers were shaky as he pulled out the smallest needle he could find. He tried his best to thread the needle. He froze just before he pierced through the other’s skin, sure he’d done it on himself before, but he’d never done it on another person. 

He just really hoped Grain wasn’t feeling much in his unconscious state.

________________________

Grian woke up entirely too slowly in his opinion. He could hear something rattling and moving around him but he wasn’t able to move or speak himself. 

There was someone sitting next to him, he could feel their presence. Normally he couldn’t like the idea of someone being next to him, especially when he couldn’t see who it was. There was some hand in his hair, and he tried his best to look over to see where the hand connected. He opened his eyes slowly, and saw Scar sitting next to him. 

The brunet was curled up, head laying carefully on his knees, one arm stretched over like a pillow for his head, while his other hand was laid carefully in Grian’s hair. If Grian looked closer, he could see dried tears on the other’s face and the furrow on his brow. 

Grian looked down trying to get a better sense of where he was. They were still in the bunker, both leaned against the railing of the stairs. The blond looked to his own arm and saw it was hooked up to some blood bag that was hanging on the stairs. His hands were soaked in scarlet colors that made him sick. 

He could feel soreness in his side, and a tight bandage wrapped around his whole torso. He moved his free arm to rub the spot of soreness on his side. The sudden bit of pressure on his stomach made him flinch in pain and he moved his hand.

His head still hurt and his whole body felt like he’d been through a meat grinder. He felt like he’d just woken up from a day in the nurse’s office at his highschool. Which was not a feeling he had missed. 

He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a haggard cough.

His cough however, did the same notion of waking Scar from his nap. 

The brunet jolted, hands flinching as he looked around. The other seemed to calm down once he recognized it was only Grian waking up, but that was soon covered up with more concern once he fully came to terms with it. 

“You okay?” He asked quickly, pulling himself to sit in front of Grian. 

Grian looked around the room, before noticing the lack of a third party. “Scar-” His voice was hoarse, and he coughed up the last bits of blood stuck in his lungs. “Where’s the guy?” grian tried to point to the scarlet puddle in the middle of the bunker room. 

Scar rolled his eyes, “Outside.” He muttered, before moving to look over Grian again, “Does it hurt anymore? We could try and find some morphine-”

“He’s alive?” Grian asked, lurching forward to try and stand up. He failed, pain spiking up from his stomach as he moved. Scar carefully guided him back to the position he had been in before. 

“No, god, no.” Scar promised, “No, I just-I dragged him outside last night. I didn’t-I didn’t want him there when you woke up.” Scar grimaced, glaring at the puddle of blood. 

“But the zombie-” Grian started.

“Who cares,” Scar huffed, “Let him get eating, he was a jerk anyway.” 

“He was trying to warn you.” Grian confirmed, feeling as though he’d gotten stuck with the one dumbass in the entire world.

“So? Why should I care?” Scar snapped.

“I’m a Watcher.” Grian admitted, it was quiet as though if he said it Scar would finally understand and leave him for dead. They were both quiet, but Scar just stared at Grian blank face and thin frown. 

“That means nothing to me.” Scar finally said. “I don’t know what a Watcher is and I don’t care.”

“They are literally the reason you’re in this situation in the first place. They caused this apocalypse for their own entertainment, Scar! I’m one of them!” Grian shouted, pointing to himself hoping that would make him understand. 

Scar didn’t respond.

Grian sighed, “They’re godly beings that just want to do whatever they can to fuck up everyone’s lives for their own fun. I don’t know why they kept this world alive for so long but they did. I don’t know why you’re the one who survived, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it was just because they like you. They enjoy watching you. You’re entertaining to them.” Grian explained, “Letting me stay here with you is just going to put you in more danger. You’ll be more of a target. They might find you entertaining now, but the moment they realize you’re siding with a rogue Watcher-” Grian sighed, “You’ll never be able to get rid of them.”

Scar didn’t respond, once again. Then he sighed, staring at his hands, “That’s why you didn’t want me to save you…that’s why you wanted to…you know.” Scar motioned to the wound in his side. 

Grian nodded, sadly. 

Scar was silent, thinking. For once, Grian though he could see the gears and cogs moving in his brian. “You called yourself a rogue Watcher.”

Grian nodded, “I don’t like to play by their rules. I didn’t-I wasn’t always a Watcher. They forced me to be one. They took me and made me. I ran away. You were the closest safe world I could find.”

Scar looked up from his hands, “So that day in the office, you what? Teleported to me?”

Grian nodded.

Scar shuffled in his spot trying to get comfortable, “You know, none of what you said makes me wish I’d done something different. Even if I knew what you just told me, I would’ve done the same thing.” Scar shrugged.

Grian looked, confusion on his face, “Why?”

Scar shrugged, “I’ve spent weeks with you. You’ve never made me feel unsafe or uncomfortable. I actually really love having you around. I mean I didn’t think I’d make it this far, honestly. You haven’t let me die, and I’m not about to just let you die because you think you’re a danger to me. I don’t care about that. You’re not just my partner, and you’re not just my friend. I’m not scared of you.”

“You should be scared of me.” Grian muttered.

“So should you.” Scar said, back without a second thought.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Grian asked. 

“I’m not exactly human.” Scar chuckled, “Not exactly, at least.” Scar sighed, and his eyes glowed a bit darker with a tint of blue shining through. Grian looked over and saw two small wings poking out the other’s shirt that were no longer obscured by his jacket. His wings were tiny compared to the avian, they were a bright blue with sharp edges that reminded Grian of bat wings. “I’m a vex. Me and my brother actually.” Scar shrugged.

Grian looked him over in confusion, “I don’t know what that is.” He muttered.

“I didn’t exactly know what a ‘Watcher’ was, either.” Scar joked, he sighed, “but, they’re basically little fairy things. Mainly hang around pilligers, use them as attack dogs and stuff.” Scar huffed, wrapping his arms around his legs. Scar let out a breath, knowing what he was about to say could change a lot of things. He shook his head, closign his eyes to finally just say it and not worry about a reaction, “They’re also like-cannibals-sort of.” 

Grian looked over, brow furrowed, “Wait-as in they like eat each other or other people? When was this added to the game?” He whispered the last bit, letting his hands pull at strands of his hair in his stress.

Scar bit his lip, “People?” Scar tried, cringing as he spoke, before he corrected himself, “But I mean it’s not like all the time, obviously. And I don’t even do it alot! I don’t-I don’t really-um…yeah.” He stuttered off until he just stopped talking. 

Grian shuffled, “Are you going to eat me?”

Scar flinched, shaking his hand and waving his hands nervously, “No! No, no! You’re-You’re not going to like murder me?”

Grian flinched, shaking his head with wide eyes, “Void, no. No.”

Scar nodded, let out a sigh of relief, “So, are we good then?” He asked, an eyebrow raised.

Grian looked over in confusion, “Are we? I mean, I quite literally ruined your life here. I’ve already messed up everything for you.”

Scar scoffed, “You didn’t do anything. You can’t control what those ‘things’ do. I don’t think you can at least. So, I mean, I don’t blame you. You’ve been helping me this entire time, and you’re kind of stuck here too. I can’t really be mad at you for that.”

“But what if there was?” Grian asked, staring up at the ceiling as if he was looking out of the world to another one far away. “What if I could get us far away from this place? Like that world you described earlier. One with building and friends.”

Scar smiled, as if he didn’t believe if but could imagine it, “Yeah, that'd be amazing.” He smiled, laughing to himself.

Grian looked over, noticing he though he was lying, “But what if I could?”

Scar looked over, green eyes meeting darker black eyes, “Could you?”

“I got myself here.” He shrugged.

Scar frowned, “Can we-can we wait on it? Just wait until you’re able to move again?” Scar asked, not liking the idea of being alone again if Grian was to leave. 

Grian nodded, looking back to the ceiling, “Okay.” They were both silent for a moment, “Scar, what are we? Like, together, are we partners, are we friends? What are we?”

Scar froze at the question unsure of how to answer, “I don’t know.” He paused, “What do you want to be?”

Grian bit his lip, “I’m not sure, anymore.”

Scar nodded, nervously, “Okay.”

“Scar?” Grian asked, without looking over. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Scar asked, confused.

“You saved me.” Grian muttered. 

“I think you saved me, too.” Scar whispered back.

Grian flustered, breathing out a sigh. He wasn’t sure if it was the blood loss, the head ache, the weight that had been lifted off his chest or some crazy mixture of the three, but he spoke before he could stop himself, “I think I like you.”

Scar was silent for a moment, and Grian had to realize what he’d just said out loud. Before he could take it back, Scar beat him to it, “I think I like you, too.”

Chapter Text

Cleo’s concern had doubled almost tripled since she last saw Mumbo, as had most of the hermits. The youngest member hadn’t been seen in days almost weeks now. He’d skipped their weekly meetings and none of the active hermits could get him out of his base. Her neighbor seemed to be shoving himself into his base full of grief and unbearable sorrow.

It wasn’t uncalled for at least, all the hermits knew the man was mourning the loss of his best friend. In fact, Xisuma had especially asked the hermits to give the youngest member some space, after the ravenet made such a request.

It had all happened quite publicly on the server, going down in a serverwide meeting Xisuma had called out of the blue. 

The hermits had gathered in the spawn chunks prepared for whatever had caused such a random meeting and couldn’t wait for their weekly meeting.

They’d all taken their seats surrounding the garden-like area of spawn. Oddly, Xisuma had looked more nervous and concerned than he did at the beginning of meetings. The voidwalker was shuffling through papers in his hands reading through them once again and making notes in his head. 

At the time, Cleo along with many of the other hermits weren’t worried. It seemed like such a normal day that they weren’t sure what had caused their admin such distress. They had taken a seat right next to Mumbo who was looking confusedly into his comm. Now, she realized the man had been worrying over messages or the lack thereof. 

It hadn’t seemed odd, though, Mumbo was an anxious person and constantly worried about something that the hermits promised was useless to worry over. Yet, with how his leg bounced up and down, how he bit his lip, and how he gripped his suit sleeve tightly, whatever it had been was worrying him more than normal.

“Right, is everyone here?” Xisuma asked, his voice tight and strained. The hermits looked around quietly, counting to make sure everyone had arrived. Xisuma did his own head count before speaking again. Cleo noticed Mumbo slowly turn off his comm, but he didn’t put it away. “I’m sure you are all confused as to why this meeting had to be called and why it couldn’t wait.” Xisuma let out a breath, as a few Hermits nodded, “Well, I-Admins are being advised to hold meetings and discuss safety issues and precautions due to the collapse of a world.” Xisuma spouted out, as if he could get it out quicker to lessen the burn. 

The idea of a collapsed world caused many of the hermits to straighten, flinch or come to attention more than before. 

“What do you mean a collapsed world?” Keralis asked. Cleo saw Mumbo’s fingers flinch in his lap, reaching for his comm. 

Xisuma paused, before sighing, “A server was destroyed, collapsed, due to outside forces interfering with the code and safety that had been put in place. Due to the casualties and missing persons Admins are being advised to inform players of the occurrence and speak with players about questions of safety and possible improvements. As well as informing players of any newer coding changes that could protect their own servers.”

“Casualties?” Mumbo spoke up, worry on the edge of his voice. Many of the hermits looked from the raven-haired hermit back to the admin wondering the same. 

Xisuma nodded, armored fingers tapping the pages in his hands. “Yes. Unfortunately there were multiple casualties. Ones that can not be altered with respawn. I-I don’t plan to go into grim detail.”

“How many are we talking, X?” Joe asked, shuffling in his seat uncomfortably. 

“There were eleven players on the server including the admin, currently seven have been confirmed dead.” Xisuma replied, watching as the hermits took in the number. 

There was a tense moment of silence, only broken by Etho, “What about the other four?”

“They’re currently missing in action. There hasn’t been any information given about their whereabouts, however with all the number of casualties and the absence of survivors we’ve been told to…assume.” Xisuma muttered.

Cleo hadn’t exactly been sure what to think at that moment. The thought of being on a server as it died out, watching loved ones die without the possibility of survival. Her thoughts had been interrupted when they saw Mumbo sink into his seat slowly. 

“What was the server called?” Bdubs asked, sitting closer to the edge of his seat. 

Xisuma straightened, “Evo. Now, I’m sure you all have many more-”

“I’m sorry, did you say Evo?” Mumbo interrupted, which was out of the ordinary. Hermits turned to the youngest member, confused as to why the man had interrupted so suddenly. “As in Evolution Smp?”

Xisuma flinched at the full mention of the name, causing multiple Hermits to look back at him in more confusion. 

The more Cleo thought about the moment, she could remember seeing the tiny line of tears collecting in Mumbo’s eyes. They could see the tight hold on his comm he’d grabbed moments before. They could see the frown growing under his mustache that seemed completely wrong on his face. 

“You-you know of it?” Xisuma asked, the worry in his voice had tripled. 

Mumbo nodded, “Yeah?” Mumbo paused, staring directly at Xisuma, “There-there were no survivors?”

The silence had come back with more force. No hermit knew what to say, just waiting for Xisuma to speak again.

“No, there-X, you said there were still some people missing. They could still be alive, right?” Impulse added, nervously chuckling. 

Xisuma frowned, “We’ve been told to expect the worst.”

“But hope for the best?” Bdubs tried with a panicked smile. Hoping that they could say something to offer some comfort to the hermit watching with tearful eyes as Xisuma spoke. There was no doubt that everyone would feel some mournful sorrow for the death but none of them could compare to the feeling of having known the players that were now gone. That feeling, that loss, was one that was looking a bit to close for comfort to the gaze Mumbo had.

The others looked back to Mumbo, who had his head in his hands, staring at the floor. 

“Mumbo, how did you know that server?” Xisuma asked the player, fearing what he knew had to have been true.

Mumbo didn’t look up from the floor, not trusting himself to look at any of his friends at the moment, “My best friend was on it.” He whispered. 

“Oh, Mumbo.” False muttered from the other side of him. There was a silent moment, as everyone took in the confirmation to the information they’d all assumed. Many Hermits had friends currently on the server, and none of them could imagine losing a fellow hermit to something so powerful that not even a respawn could save them. False shook her head, trying to offer something, “I’m-I’m sure-could they have gotten off of it beforehand?” False asked, trying to comfort the man, looking back up to the admin for help. The voidwalker shook his head, solemnly. 

“How did it happen?” Mumbo asked, the tears in his eyes beginning to fall but he had to know all the facts. Maybe there was some way Grian survived. Some way he could’ve helped. Some way this was just a joke. Please let it be a joke.

Xisuma froze. He’d been informed of how to act rationally and logically by the council, he had not been told about the possibility of one of his own players knowing of the server and its inhabitants. He was in new territory now, one he wasn’t sure how to navigate, one he was sure the rest of the hermits were unsure of as well.

“Maybe we should reschedule this meeting?” Xisuma offered, earning multiple nods from Hermits as they watched their friend begin to cry. 

“No.” Mumbo stated, he tightened his grip on his pant legs, “X, how did it happen?” Mumbo asked, again, firmer this time.

Xisuma sighed, “We-we aren’t exactly sure.”

“You’re not sure!” Mumbo snapped, finally looking at the admin at the face Xisuma saw was one he would have to live with in his nightmares as one of his players came to understand the death of his best friend. Xisuma froze, unsure of how to continue. 

False huffed, knowing the admin had no idea how to tread the water they were in. False turned to the raven haired man, a tiny smile on her face as she tried to comfort him, “I’m sure, Xisuma, just means they’re looking into it. Maybe they’ll find a way to undo whatever happened.” 

False looked over to the admin, sending the man a glare to back her up. The admin shuffled in his spot, nervously, “But-”

“Yeah! I’m sure if they just track down the server they’ll be able to respawn the members!” Tango offered, the blaze hybrid’s hair had died down, fire sparking about as he fidgeted nervously in his seat. The blaze’s hair was a way to see into whatever the man was feeling and currently he was one spark away from burning down the nearest building. 

“There’d have-” Xisuma started again, about to point out the problem in Tango’s solution.

“What if a player left the server before it went down?” Jevin added.

“We could still find the missing players, right?” Impulse asked.

“There has to be something they haven’t tried.” Cleo said, crossing her arms. 

“X?” Mumbo asked, ignoring all the hermits' tries.

Xisuma frowned, sighing, “I’m sorry, False, but they’ve tried just about everything. The server’s been completely deleted, players and all. It’s as if something wiped the whole space clean of every line of code. There’s no strings of code that lead us to the players, and honestly all memory of the players was erased. There’s nothing to bring back, nothing to respawn. All we know is that the server had been cut off from the rest of the universe for months, there was no way for anyone or thing to get in or out of that server.” Xisuma explained, watching as the hope in his hermits’ faces left and paled. He couldn’t look Mumbo in the face anymore, not with how the man was staring at him, fear and sadness clear on his face.

Xisuma had to continue, though, there was still more to explain, “The missing players are-they’re missing for a reason. There isn't any sign that they’ve passed, as there was with the other players but there was evidence that they were on the server at one point. They haven’t been heard of or seen since the server closed itself off.”

“How do we know if someone is dead?” Etho asked, although most of his face was covered, Xisuma could hear the anger and frustration in his voice. 

“While the code of the players was erased, their very being, their names were found under a list in place of the world code. The list was titled Spectating . Four of the players were not found under the list and have been marked as missing until proven otherwise.” Xisuma explained.

“Stop-” Mumbo muttered, letting out a shaky breath, “Stop beating around the bush, X. How did it collapse?”

Xisuma nodded, sadly, “We don’t know a lot. The Spectating list had a single creator listed under the name of Watchers. ” The admin let out a sigh, “The watchers have been a problem for a long time. If you are unaware, the Watchers are a group of god-like beings that live in the deep void. They feed off of entertainment. Whether that is from themselves or players that they use it doesn’t matter. They watch over worlds for entertainment, sometimes interacting or interfering if they think it will work in their favor.”

“They did something?” Doc asked.

“The Watchers must have infiltrated the world, which is what shut off all communication with the server. It seems that at some point the world became too boring for them and they saw no point in continuing it. Either that or the players did something to invoke the Watcher’s wrath.” Xisuma explained. 

Mumbo’s grip on his pant leg tightened, “So what? They got tired of them and just killed them! That’s it! That’s all the explanation we get?”

“Ultimately, it seemed the disappearance of the admin caused the server to collapse as there was no one to counteract the Watchers.” Xisuma placated, however it seemed to have the opposite effect. 

“They’re blaming him?” Mumbo gaped, staring at X with wider black eyes. 

“The admin just left? They just left the players there to deal with it by themselves?” Doc scoffed, shaking his head. The other hermits seemed to grumble in agreement, but silenced themselves when Mumbo spun around to glare at Doc. 

“Doc!” Mumbo yelped, something shocked and unbelieving. 

“I wouldn’t place all the blame on the admin.” Xisuma calmed.

“But they left the players, right? Why did they just leave their players if they could escape?” Joe asked.

“Yes, but-” Xisuma tried.

“Would the server still be up if the admin hadn’t left?” Etho asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t think that’s something we should be speculating.” Xisuma scolded. 

“But they could’ve survived?” Etho pressed, crossed armed as he sat back in his chair. 

“Etho! Shut up.” Mumbo snapped, glaring at the masked man. Etho looked over confused, he let his arms drop. 

The man leaned forward in his chair to fully look at Mumbo, he motioned to Xisuma as if he was motioning to the missing admin, “If that admin hadn’t left your friend would still be alive!” Etho said, before he could stop himself. 

“Etho!” Xisuma shouted, like a parent scolding a child. Etho flinched, looking at Xisuma and snapping his mouth shut realizing what he’d said. 

The hermits looked over to Mumbo, who was fighting back tears. The man was biting back something, his fists clenched at his sides. He was shaking with anger as he glared at the other hermits, “That admin was my friend!”

The hermit meeting silenced. Not even Xisuma had known that information. The hermits stared at Mumbo, confusion and guilt crossing their faces. Mumbo cringed at the looks he got from his friends. He shook his head, standing up, “I’m done.”

No one stopped the redstoner as he left the meeting. No one even tried to follow him. The man shoved his hands into his pockets, walking with his head down back to his own base silently. Cleo’s worry had begun there, her neighbor walking home alone as he dealt with the presumed death of his best friend. 

“I didn’t know.” Etho muttered, watching as the raven haired man walked away. 

“That doesn’t mean you say something like that!” Doc said, smacking the man in the back of the head, harmlessly. 

Etho grimaced at the reminder, “You weren’t much better! You’re the one who blamed the admin in the first place!” Etho reminded, pointing a finger at the taller.

“Joe’s the one who said the admin escaped without his players on purpose.” Doc defended, both Etho and Doc turning to the other hermit. 

“That is not what I said, you both know that!” Joe defended himself, “I asked why they didn’t get out together if he left. “Jevin’s the one who mentioned the players leaving before the server collapsed!”

Jevin scoffed, standing up, “I was trying to give him something else to focus on! I never meant that the admin left the players on that server to die on purpose!”

“Hey! Watch it.” False scolded, pushing the slime’s shoulder.

“Right, sorry, Ms. They'll undo whatever the admin did!” Jevin scoffed, rolling his eyes. 

“I never-” False started, getting cut off by Xisuma’s shout.

“Enough!” Xisuma fumed, “This conversation is over, since none of you can continue it and act mature. You have a fellow hermit mourning the loss of his best friend and you’re in here arguing with each other over which of you hurt him the most. I’ll end the debate here. You all messed up. So you can all apologize to each other now, and apologize to Mumbo later, but if I hear any of you arguing or talking about this again in this light I will not be this understanding.” Xisuma paused, getting nods from all the hermits in the meeting. “We’ll hold a meeting later to talk about precautions to protect Hermitcraft. This meeting is adjourned, go back to your bases.”

And that was how the meeting ended.

Over the next few days, the hermits slowly made their way one by one to apologize to Mumbo at his base. As awkward as it was, each Hermit only managed to see Mumbo for a few minutes before the redstoner kicked them out to work on something. Even after everyone had apologized no one heard from the man. 

He stayed inside his base, mourning. 

A few weeks later, Cleo found Mumbo sitting beside a gravestone that had been built just outside of his base. The man was having some kind of picnic with gravestone, the rain pestering him as he sat alone in the middle of the night. 

Cleo had sent a message to Xisuma when she found him, and Xisuma called the hermits available to meet at Mumbo’s base. Keralis had brought flowers, Jevin had brought some food having been told Mumbo hadn’t eaten in a while, Impulse had brought a box of tissues, and Xisuma had prepared a special cup of tea for the hermit. 

They somewhat expected Mumbo to kick them all out, once he noticed them and they handed off what they’d brought. However, the man allowed them to stay as he cried. 

The gravestone was beautifully done, and the hermits recognized that it had been what Mumbo had been working on for so long. There was the admin’s name engraved on the front: Grian. Underneath it was the engraving of a parrot, something that confused the hermits but they didn’t question it. 

Still it had been a few more weeks since that funeral. Cleo was getting more and more worried about her neighbor. Most days they saw Mumbo spending hours and hours at the grave site speaking to no one, or just sitting quietly as he cried. 

They were about to have another weekly meeting, and Cleo had enough of Mumbo missing them. 

“Mumbo. This isn’t good for you.” Cleo said, standing a few feet away from the man who was sat in front of the grave. 

“Go away, Cleo.” Mumbo whispered.

“Not until you get up and come with me to the meeting.” Cleo pushed. 

Mumbo sighed, he turned his head and Cleo could see the bags that had grown under his eyes and the rats nest that was his hair. “Why?”

“Because you haven’t been to one in weeks.” Cleo answered.

“Is it mandatory?” Mumbo asked, falling on his back so he was laying against the muddy ground and staring up at the sky. 

Cleo short-circuited, “Well, no-”

“Then I’m not going.” Mumbo said, sitting back up. 

“Mumbo!” Cleo stressed, frustrated with the younger man.

“Go away.” Mumbo sing-songed, with a forced smile. 

“Mumbo-” Cleo started, again before getting hit in the face with a tea cup. They blinked, looking down to the tea cup that was now on the ground.

“Go away!” Mumbo shouted this time. Cleo sighed, nodding. She walked away, rather than getting hit in the head with a tea pot next if Mumbo continued to throw things.

She flew over to the meeting area, quickly spotting Xisuma to have a word with him. 

“You need to do something about Mumbo.” Cleo told the admin.

Xisuma straightened, “Is he coming today?”

Cleo shook her head, “Of course not. He hasn’t been to a single meeting since, he hasn’t left that grave site since. Something needs to happen, X. I’m not sitting and watching my neighbor rot next door. Talk to him, because he’s not going to listen to anyone else.”

Xisuma frowned, “I was afraid of that.”

“Do something or I will, X.” Cleo said, hands on her hips. 

“You can’t rush mourning.” Xisuma sighed, looking over his notes. 

“So help me, X, I will drag him away from that grave site by his ankles.” Cleo snapped, turning on their heels and walking back to her spot in the meeting room. Xisuma sighed, realizing what he had to do.

__ __ __ __ __ __

Xisuma walked up the small hill to the grave site that had slowly gathered in decoration. Over the past few weeks, hermits had been slowly decorated the memorial site as a way to remember their friend’s friend. There were multiple bouquets of flowers now, some planted around in a circle. Cleo and Joe had created a bench nearby in hopes Mumbo would take up the option of sitting there rather than the ground.

Xisuma could see Mumbo still ignoring the presence of the bench, sitting in front of the grave just as he had for a while now. 

He stopped a few feet behind the redstoner, “I half expected you to actually show up today.” Xisuma said, trying to offer a joke.

Mumbo turned his head to look over at his admin, he sighed, “If you’re here to get on to me just do it.” The raven haired man turned back.

“Why would I do that?” Xisuma asked, taking a step forward, as he hadn’t immediately been met with something thrown at him or a ‘go away’. 

Mumbo huffed, “Because I haven’t talked or spent time with anyone even though they’ve apologized.”

Xisuma frowned, “No.”

“No?” Mumbo questioned.

“I’m not here to do that.” Xisuma took another step forward, he pointed to the spot next to Mumbo, “Do you mind it I?”

Mumbo nodded to the spot, allowing Xisuma to sit down. The admin sat down next to the player, staring at the engraved parrot on the gravestone. 

“You don’t have to forgive them. I won’t lie, they messed up, we all did.” Xisuma shrugged, Mumbo looked over. The man’s knees were pulled into his chest as he hugged himself. His chin rested on his knees, he raised an eyebrow. “I should’ve stopped that meeting the moment we realized you knew someone on that server. The rest should’ve been done privately between me and you. It should not have been publicly broadcasted to the rest of the server.”

“I wouldn’t have let you stop, once you started.” Mumbo muttered.

“Oh, I know, but I very well should’ve kicked the rest of the hermits out.” Xisuma said, “The point I’m trying to make is that-well-while what they said was completely out of line. It came from a place that wanted to protect you.”

Mumbo scoffed, laughing to himself, “Really?”

Xisuma nodded, “I know it sounds insane, but all they knew was that one of your friends was on that server. They couldn’t feel the same way you were feeling, but they could side against the thing that took that away from you.”

“He didn’t-” Mumbo swallowed, “It couldn’t have been his fault.”

“I don’t believe it was.” Xisuma said.

“But they-” Mumbo started.

“They have no idea what happened, and neither do I, and neither do you. What they think doesn’t matter. They took the information they had and ran with it. We hermits are good at that-we like running with ideas until they work.” Xisuma joked again, laughing to himself, “All this to say, I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” Mumbo asked, shuffling a bit. 

Xisuma nodded, “There isn’t a lot I can do. Grian’s not dead, yet. He’s still missing. There’s-There’s still a chance he’s out there. You just have to be patient. I wish I could do more. Either in finding him, erasing what the hermits said, or helping you; but as it is, none of us know how to do that.”

Mumbo nodded, hiding his curling into his knees more.

“You’re dealing with someone that no one else in our written history has dealt with before. We live in a universe where death is meant to mean nothing more than maybe a five minute respawn or a nasty injury if you’re unlucky. It’s not supposed to be permanent, yet, here we are. No one knows how to help those grieving and no one knows how to grieve themselves. It’s taking time to figure it all out, but I don’t think it will ever get figured out.” Xisuma spoke, again, warm advice falling from his helmet. 

“I don’t know what to do, X.” Mumbo whispered, he looked over from the grave to his admin, “What do I do?”

Xisuma seemed to think for a moment, “Go on a walk with me.”

“What?” Mumbo asked, confused. 

“Go on a walk with me.” Xisuma repeated.

“I can’t-” Mumbo looked from Xisuma to the grave, “I can’t leave him.”

Xisuma frowned, “He’ll be here when you get back.”

Mumbo stayed silent, unsure. 

“You can either go on a walk with me and we can be silent, or we go on a walk and we talk about something else, or if you really want to we can talk about him.” Xisuma offered, nodding to the gravestone. 

“You’ll listen?” Mumbo asked.

Xisuma nodded.

Mumbo frowned, but nodded. He pressed his hands against the ground pushing himself up. Xisuma followed, standing up. The player was taller than the admin but not by much. Mumbo looked back to the grave, whispering, “I’ll be right back, Gri.”

Xisuma took a step away, waiting for the other to join him. Mumbo walked up, joining him and they began to walk around the server slowly but surely. 

“Where do I even start?” Mumbo giggled to himself, running a hand through his hair. 

“How about that parrot engraving?” Xisuma offered, and Mumbo nodded, smiling, something Xisuma found he hadn’t seen in a while. 

“Oh, that’s easy. Gri was a parrot hybrid. He had these huge wings that he could fly with. He normally kept them tucked away but he used them every so often. Parrots were his favorite birds, and boy, did he like birds.” Mumbo laughed, as they walked, something a bit wet and sad. 

“Bird hybrids normally have large families or families of some kind.” Xisuma noted.

Mumbo nodded, “He had a twin brother and an older sister. His brother’s name was Jimmy, he was a canary. His sister’s name was Pearl. I never met either one of them, he only ever told me about them. When he created Evo he invited Jimmy and Pearl to come on so he could see them again. Jimmy was the only one to accept at first.”

Xisuma paused, unsure if he should speak, he sighed, “Then you must be aware that-”

“I know that what happened to Grian had to happen to his siblings, too.” Mumbo sighed, “Just don’t know if they’re missing or dead.”

“Missing, both of them.” Xisuma said, “SolidarityGaming and Pearlescentmoon if I’m not mistaken?”

Mumbo nodded. Xisuma continued, “You said ‘See them again’, had he not seen them in a while?”

Mumbo shook his head, “He hadn’t seen them in years. I think the last time he’d seen them he was five.”

“Void,” Xisuma muttered, as they passed by a hermit’s base. As they did Tango and Impulse both waved hopeful to get some response from the hermit they hadn’t seen in weeks. Xisuma made Mumbo stop and pointed the blaze and demon hybrid out. Mumbo paused, confused, before waving back to the two. Tango whooped, jumping up as Impulse waved back more excitedly. 

Mumbo laughed, “Why?”

“You can’t honestly think people wouldn’t miss you, kid.” Xisuma said, causing Mumbo to cringe, Xisuma laughed, “Look, till you’re no longer the youngest on the server you’re going to be the kid.”

Mumbo rolled his eyes, “This was a ploy to get me out again, wasn’t it?”

“Absolutely.” Xisuma finished.