Work Text:
Grian collapsed into Scar and he held the limp, jelly-limbed body in a tight hold. Scar felt every strangled gasp for air against his shoulder and the trembles that rippled through his mate but he couldn’t focus on either for a second. Didn’t dare to. He watched Zed’s face contort in horror and the sudden wash of pure bitter, sour scents drown out every piece of relief that had crept in from the birth of the baby.
The room fell silent.
Grian tensed in Scar’s arms and reached a shaky hand to push off, creating space to turn around, but before he could, Scar was quick to shove his head back into his shoulder. The alpha felt a shiver go down his spine. Every hair on his body points to the sky, goosebumps spreading across his skin. The precious tiny, blood-covered infant that lay on the bed, was motionless.
“No! No, don’t look!” His voice dry as he croaked it out. Weak in disbelief.
That had seemed to have the opposite effect. Grian began to squirm at once. Scar only felt his panic intensify tenfold.
Panic. Panic. Terror.
Grian whined in his hold, grunting in desperation and the alpha faltered for a single moment, Grian jumped to action and spun immediately in the loosened hold. He yelped out briefly in pain, too sudden of a movement. Scar reached to comfort him just as he saw his mate’s eyes land on the newborn. The very still, newborn.
And Oh..
How Scar’s heart hurt. At the crease in his mates brow, in the sudden pause, shell-shocked still. Frozen in time.
“Come on,” Zedaph growled, rubbing his fist along the baby’s back vigorously. “Come on! Breath, dammit!”
The world really had stopped at that moment. There wasn’t a single breath taken in the room. Almost as if it was a gesture of silence for what was already lost. Scar broke the silence.
“Gri, come on,” he muttered. A hand reaching to cover the omega’s eyes, return his head back to the crook between his neck and shoulder, tuck away and hide his mate from witnessing the scene. He shook, he couldn’t stop shaking. “Come on, shhhh, just breathe…”
He felt his heart stop. His breath caught in his throat, because the sweet darling angel his omega spent so long carrying all by himself, was still unmoving. Not a breath to call their own in this big wide world but the colour of their skin just seemed to delve into a deeper blue, a deeper purple. He couldn’t prevent the tears that wet his lashes, unshed behind his eyelids. He had to be strong for Grian.
Zedaph’s head shot upwards, Scar made eye contact before Zed cowardered away, glancing between the pack leaders for help. He sputtered nothing but nonsensical words.
Grian felt the impossible drop in scent and screamed.
The most ear-piercing guttural scream of horror and terror. His voice cracked ever so weakly and shook with his body. Tears poured from his fluttering eyes that just couldn’t stay open anymore. Snot dripped down his chin and redness drenched his face. He sobbed and the alpha all but held him tighter. Scar had never felt so human before, so incapable.
The omega was reduced to a mess, dry heaving and gagging at the terror, the shock, the loss. Scar couldn’t even begin to dissect every emotion that reached through the bond, every one too overwhelming. He did all he could, hushing him gently and combing his fingers through Grian’s hair. But his own voice-cracks revealed his true state.
Grian raised his head with no muscle of his own, relying on his alpha fully. They caught eyes and stayed like that. Those deep black eyes, peered into his own, into his soul and read every truth behind it. Grian knew every thought that raced his mind because he had every same one at once. They had lost something they never knew they had. Shattered a whole potential world before it started. It ruined Scar.
He cupped his omega’s cheek, to wipe a stray tear among the rest that continued to fall one after another. Watched every sniffle and each choke. Like they were the only two in the world at that moment. But they weren’t. He wished so badly they could be greeting their sweet baby into the world right now, cleaning them of their muck, that he didn’t want to coil himself as badly as he did.
Grian broke their moment, to growl at the others standing by. To witness the state of his child. The infant that should be wailing instead of him right now. He growled louder as he felt the rumble in the alpha’s chest he still sat on the lap of behind him, growling in unison as the urge to protect surfaced.
How could they protect what was already gone?
Zedaph did all he could, passing over the deceased body. Grian practically leapt out of Scar’s arms to take their child into his own. Having to be reigned back in before he collapsed.
“She’s a…” Zed cleared his throat, though it came out more like a gag and a sob combined, “She..was..a girl.”
A daughter. They’d had a daughter for all but a second. A far too short second. The return of abysmal sobs echoed in the room as another broke out. Unfortunately not from the baby but instead a very apologetic Zed, for not saving her. For failing her and them. Scar wanted to tell him it wasn’t his fault. Wanted to do anything but stare but all he could do was be still as he watched the two loves of his life greet each other, yet not a drop of love could peek through. Only a yearn for what could have been. He mourns what could have been, what should have been, what he couldn’t save.
Grian pressed the baby up against his scent gland, resting her heart to his like he was trying to give his own to her. Scar pulled him close by his waist and pressed his own chest to them, maybe with enough skin, enough warmth and stimuli from beating hearts, their scents even, she could gasp her way into the world. It didn’t feel real to watch her be so lifeless even though they’d never seen her be anything but.
Maybe in another universe she babbled between them, held their fingers with that frighteningly strong baby grip and cried and wailed her heart out like they wished she would. Every wish for a good time would become a sad thought of tomorrow, when they wouldn’t be able to hold her body anymore.
Their cries were interrupted by Xisuma, speaking on behalf of an inconsolable Zed.
“We need to cut the umbilical cord.” The usual power in his voice was revoked to nothing but a whisper.
He handed over a pair of shears to Scar, he took them with a tremble in his hand. Xisuma looked so dejected, hopeless. He shared the sentiment. A sullen look on his face instead of a grateful one.
Time moved too slowly, yet so fast. Scar couldn’t keep track. Only an hour ago had he not known his mate, his love, was pregnant with his child and suffering. Maybe if he had been there sooner, burst in when Grian didn’t answer his comm or his call through the front door. Or even before that, Between each and every fight, before the locket was shattered. When one brave poppy petal survived it, if only that had been his daughter. If she was that brave poppy petal. Her heart beat must have been the most beautiful sound in the world. How Scar would do anything to listen to it forever. Give anything to witness what she could have grown to be. Her small stature, cold, should have been warm. She could have been looking up to her parents with big beady eyes.
Scar felt all that searing pain all day . He only reached out once. He could have done better. Could have saved him from going through this, somehow. He knows he could have.
Now, by his own hand, he had to cut the motionless angel from his wreck of a mate. His heart breaks when Grian pleads him not to with his red, swollen eyes. How could he dare to separate his baby from him when he just got her. Just lost her.
The wretched silence was replaced by screams, wailing and begging. To not tie off the cord, for Scar to back off and take the shears far, far away. To let the omega hold and grieve his baby for as long as he wanted. Scar raised a gentle hand, caressing Grian's jaw, then to his hair; brushing the few soaked strands from sweat and tears out of his face, clearing his vision despite how blurred it was regardless. Scar’s eyes softened in sympathy, placing the most gentle and kind kiss to the top of Grian’s head. He had to convey that in all this loss he was there. He had to be there, Grian would need him. He would need Grian.
His love went unheard.
Grian groaned in pain, instinctively dipping his hands to his stomach though Scar was quick to help support the baby between them.
Pain. Pain. Pain.
All Scar could feel through the bond was all kinds of physical and emotional pain, turmoil. Overriding every sense. Why was he still in pain? His mate had gone through enough. As if he had read his mind, Zed answered.
“He still needs to deliver the afterbirth, the placenta.” He croaked defeatedly.
From there it was quick, Grian began to sob with all he could again, he thought it was over and so did Scar. Scar felt useless, he could do nothing to comfort his omega but release pathetic calming pheromones that would never be enough. Keralis offered to hold the discoloured infant, though quickly backed off after receiving a rather loud snarl from the miserable omega. Zed made a final gesture in tying a string around the umbilical cord and letting Scar cut it with a tremble that never left from earlier. His mate’s cries only increased from the realisation he had no way to keep the baby so close anymore. Still holding her tight to his chest when he was raised back to his knees and leaned against Scar with his full body weight. Zed let his hands snake around to push on his lower stomach, making Grian whine out in pain, grunts escaping his snot covered mouth. Scar growled, low and possessively, stroking his mates arms up and down in comfort.
Grian was exhausted, Scar could tell. Had he not been there to support him, the alpha doubted he would have been able to kneel on his own. The next twenty or so minutes spent massaging the omega’s stomach and more yelps from outbursts of pain, pushing again and again, despair had filled the air.
Scar was quick to catch Grian when he collapsed once again. Minding the cold mould in his arms even though no more harm could truly come to her.
The shallow hot breaths that shuddered against the skin between his neck and collarbone slowed too fast, like the omega hadn’t caught his breath but instead brushed off the need to get air in. Scar’s gut became riddled with a nauseating feeling of butterflies. His throat closed with dread, like he knew.
“..Grian?”
There was no answer, just a light shift of Grian’s head to the side, enough to peer up at the alpha through heavy lidded eyes before they closed.
Tears pricked Scar’s eyes. They burned, itched every instinct that was rising to protect.
“Shit,” Xisuma swore through a breath. “Why is there so much blood? That’s too much blood!”
The heavy atmosphere was hit with a boulder, growing impossibly heavier. Scar’s heart dropped.
No.
No.
No.
He can’t.
Scar frantically gripped Grian’s shoulders with a bruising pressure. He could apologise later, for everything. For not being there, for not being enough. He held and he shook his omega desperately. Somebody ducked into their space to remove the darling angel from the equation, Scar couldn’t dare a glance. He could handle the grief of his daughter, he’d heal given a few years. Though he hated to admit it, he just couldn’t lose Grian.
He’d been through this before, back in third life. Prior to their knowledge of whether players would permadie on their last life. When he couldn’t bring himself to risk being the hand that ended Grian’s, have to live on without him. He put that on the omega, to take the responsibility and consequences. Guilt riddens him everyday that he remembers, still losing sleep to his decision. Yet had he gone back without the knowledge, he would do it again and again. He just couldn’t bear a world without Grian. He could handle the broken bond, being friends forever, if that meant they could be together.
What was Scar without Grian if not broken?
“Lay him down on the pillows, we need to stop the blood.” Xisuma commanded, demanding with anguish.
Scar followed suit, pressing another kiss to his omega’s forehead as he eased him down. Every bone in his body was shaking with such vigour he couldn’t think straight. His head was so full with every thought he’d ever conjured yet so empty and numb with every terror that raced.
This was all just a bad dream. A really, really awful dream.
The alpha stared daggers into his precious omega’s face, awaiting a blink, an inhale, just anything. He slipped a hand to his throat just on top of his pulse point and left his fingers to rest there; to comfort himself as that weak beat still came through.
A flicker of hope shone inside Scar. He wouldn’t pass, he wouldn’t dare. Grian is strong and unbeatable and loved. So loved. It’s not his time. It will never be his time.
Just as he let himself overthink, the avian’s lashes fluttered open, glancing faintly upwards to meet Scar’s. His heart skipped a beat in that moment, tears pricking strongly and blurring what he wanted so badly to see, Grian’s eyes.
“Grian?!” Scar screamed at the top of his lungs, yet Grian didn’t flinch.
The omega hummed in reply, all he could muster with his strength. Scar took a hold of his hand and repeatedly pressed delicate kisses to every finger, every knuckle and the centre of his palm. Giving him every drop of strength he could. It worked, supposedly, as the omega outstretched a tired arm out to caress his alpha’s face.
“Don’t move. You need that energy to recover, Grian!” Scar said hoarsely and ever so woefully. Gulping in misery, his throat was tight.
Though he was a hypocrite, holding Grian’s hand to his cheek to keep it there, intertwining their fingers. Grian’s were so fragile. So frail.
“Scar..” Grian paled at just the work needed to utter his name, but he didn’t give up, “I’m so.. sorry.”
“Don’t say that.”
“Scar.. I love you.” His voice trembled and the words were slurred. His tear-filled eyes flickered and a droplet poured down his nose, onto the pillow below.
Scar pressed a kiss to the wet, tear streaked palm he hadn’t known had stemmed from his own eyes like a faucet. The alpha leaned into the touch, like it was water to a deadman. Like it would keep him alive.
It would.
It would be the only reason he lived.
“Gri.. stay strong, please.” He pleaded, begged with all his might.
Though he might as well have spoken to an empty audience because at that moment Grian exhaled what seemed to be the smallest breath, surely a record. Grian loved a good challenge. He loved a good prank. That must be it. He can be cruel sometimes, Scar would still love him if he was playing the cruellest prank ever right now, if he opened his eyes with full sprite and jumped to animated life at once. When did the prank end?
Grian closed his eyes.
Scar’s fingers pressed into his throat, pushed his pulse point.
Where was it?
“No! No, no!” A voice screeched out next to him. Keralis?
-
-
-
[Grian Bled to Death]
[Grian left the Game]
Left? Grian left?
But his body was still here.
A glitch? Scar glanced at the admin. Xisuma’s face was hard as stone. No muscle twitching, no tears forming. He was a statue. Keralis next to him seemed overwhelmed with fear, regret, guilt, screaming into the floor. Zedaph was holding their daughter. His face was similar to Xisumas, though obvious red patches spread across and his eyes had begun to swell.
This dream felt far too real. He missed Grian.
He missed Grian.
The hand Scar had held pressed to his cheek felt cold. It felt like there was nothing but himself holding it up.
Because it was.
Scar never let go. He gathered Grian’s limp body into his lap, used his spare hand to cup his face as he stared down into it, expecting a return of breath that he had taken only a moment ago.
When he received no response, no sign of.. life. Scar choked on himself. Dry heaved and let the waves crash. Tears dripped onto and down Grian’s cold, pale cheeks. Scar sobbed harder than he had ever before in his life. How had he gained and lost so much in all but a few hours. Not even a day had passed and his life had built and fallen apart all by itself. Was it truly some cruel joke? Did the Watchers have so much hatred for him, to do this to him? To do this to his first-born, his mate. To the people that meant most to him.
“Bring him back.” The alpha muttered under his breath, anger rising in his veins, boiling, “Bring him back!” He screeched.
Xisuma shuddered, likely wishing he could. So badly. He failed as an admin. His one job to keep his players safe and he couldn’t even do that. Losing two in a day. Not knowing there even was a second.
Just hours earlier Scar had sworn to Grian, to protect him. He told him, promised him, he would take care of him. That he wouldn’t go anywhere. Scar failed him, he failed his mate. He failed the love of his life when he needed him most.
For those few minutes he had the entire world, a daughter of his own and a mate in his arms. How could that be taken from him? How could he lose everything in such a short amount of time. Be completely stripped of everything he loved and have no control or say. Scar couldn’t help yearning for something he no longer had. For something he never really had in his grasp in the first place.
Scar tore up from his position in sudden movement, growling over the body of his mate, his eyes met with Zed’s, realising he still held onto their daughter. Asserting the dominance he didn’t have, Scar was offered back his child. His child was just as cold as his mother, who seemed to be donning the same blue colouring.
“Scar.. I love you.”
Had he responded? He can’t remember, everything was a blur at that point.
“I love you,” Scar cradled his daughter in his arms and rested a finger against the omega’s pulse. Just in case. Just what if, “I love you,” The alpha’s voice cracked. “I love you..” He gulped what he could without bile rising. “I love you, I love you.” What was the point? “I love you.” Did it really matter? “I love you.”
Snap.
Scar felt pain, felt a rubber band stretch and cross and weave its way between his heart and muscles, felt a second heartbeat stop inside his own. He felt a snap and he felt alone. Alone with his loved ones in his arms.
His heart beated for Grian but Grian’s no longer beat for him
Scar screamed, shrieked. It was broken into gasps for air he wished he could give away. High pitched, eerie trills replacing what should have been his gut release. The baby should have cried from this, Grian should have whacked him for it. His packmates should have teased him. He howled out, desperate.
Nobody could pry the lifeless body of his mate or the cold, purple mess of an infant that was his daughter for less than a minute. His pack could only watch in horror as they left him to curl up into their bodies as if they would curl into him back and coo, absorbing all the love he had for them both. The love he had for just them.
Instead he watched the others stand, Keralis and Zed on shaky legs, turn their backs and walk to the front door. Scar was truly alone. All alone in this world. He didn’t watch the door shut, but the click echoed and tore him apart.
There was no summer rain coming to wash away the pain, just a tsunami to crash the waves into him.
—
The next day was as expected, the entire server had gone radio silent. There had been some knocks at the door, but Scar scared each and every one off with a territorial snarl. He would protect his family.
His baby in his arms, his mate cuddled into his side.
He briefly passed out from exhaustion but it hadn’t lasted long. Even in every dream, every sweat filled scream he awoke to, Scar never saw a version of the story that Grian survived, that their baby survived. In every world, every universe, was a broken man with nothing to his name but love with no home and enough despair to fill the void that was his heart.
Scar inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, his eyebrows knitting together as his brow creased. It still smelled like him. Everywhere felt like him. He could feel him, sense every piece of his living being, he was here just hours ago. Where was he? Where did he go? Why did he leave Scar behind? He would have gone with him no matter what.
There wasn’t a moment that passed that Scar wasn’t ridden with guilt and regret. Filled to the brim of ‘what if’s’
Grian died before they got to apologise to each other, before fixing the bond. Before they found out he was pregnant, what if he spoke out about how much he adored, loved the omega when the bond was still brand new, still fresh? What if Grian survived and Scar had confessed instead of backtracking. What if they had both survived, they got to raise a beautiful daughter together. What if everything was perfect, they were a family.
What are ‘what if’s’ if not thieves of life changing opportunities.
Every happy memory that brushed the alpha’s mind was pushed back without hesitation. Guilt overshadowed every twitch that could have been a smile on his lips and brought stings to his eyes.
Grief always grows back.
Maybe in another life, they would be all three as a happy little family.
But Scar couldn’t live without that life. He couldn’t survive without his lifeline.
.
..
…
[GoodTimeWithScar]: Xisuma, kill me.