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Joel swears he can hear something in the crater on Magic Mountain. And, okay , he admits, that sounds bad, but after everything that’s happened in his life and most especially with all the encounters he’s had with the Watchers, Joel can believe anything at this point.
It was the same feeling of sensing the Watchers, and whatever he can hear from that crater was most definitely the same weird, indistinct voices that seem to be visiting him more often these days. Every time he draws closer to the pit, it only seems to get louder, more restless, more…inviting. It was like an echo of unintelligible phrases, as though the volume was just a little too low for him to decipher the words.
But there was something in those hazy whispers, clouding his mind with horrible curiousity—curiousity that Joel knows he shouldn’t follow—and yet it was like a siren’s song, luring him into a distant, dim land with no lights in sight.
Then again, maybe he was going crazy from exhaustion.
You need to get some rest, he can almost hear Grian’s voice all over again with those firm yet worried eyes that always seem to see right through Joel. The thing is; he’s been trying to, really. And, oh, how he misses sleeping soundly and waking up to clear skies and the muffled noises of construction all across the server. He’s grown used to this life—this simple, easy life with the Hermits, a more-than-welcome break from the games. But the nightmares were too vivid each night, each one consisting of a lifeless Grian and of him falling into nothing, so really, how could he ever possibly explain to Grian any of that? How could he ever explain that each night, Joel is being haunted by Grian’s lifeless eyes and being hunted down by invisible enemies?
He was completely tired. The last time he felt well rested was a few days ago, when Grian had slept beside him underneath one of the cherry trees in Magic Mountain, a sleep that, after what felt like forever, didn’t include any nightmares. It was a purely dreamless sleep, and when he’d woken up he didn’t feel a dull ache at the back of his head like what happens during sudden, uneasy bouts of sleep.
Maybe it was because Grian was there.
Somehow, it felt like there was a barrier around him, warding off the dreams and the eyes and the darkness.
Joel sighs and rubs at his eyes, trying to keep the sleepiness at bay as he flies across the server. Around him, the sky was darkening in deep orange and blue. Speaking of him, Joel also doesn’t miss all the worried glances Grian would send in his direction these past few weeks. After… that incident—he glances at his wrist that was littered in healing but still visible wounds—Joel couldn’t exactly blame him. He wonders vaguely if Grian ever has dreams of him dying. For all their ‘no more secrets’ mantra with each other, both of them surely refuse to talk about that. Then again, how could you just casually bring it up in a conversation that ‘hey, you’re always dead in my nightmares, by the way’?
A breeze was rushing past him in a whirlwind. Below him, the crater in the mountain seemed so captivating, like something in there was calling his name. Joel shakes his head and wills the growing indistinct voices to stop. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, he hears a snap like a thread being cut with scissors.
And then he was falling.
Scrambling in the air, Joel rummages through his inventory—for an ender pearl, for a water bucket—for anything to break his fall. But he couldn’t find any, too caught up in his panic and how the ground was rapidly coming up to meet him.
Joel catches a glimpse at the bottom of the pit and swears he saw something violet glinting there for just a split second. He shuts his eyes and braces for the impact.
When he opens them, everything is in agony. Joel groaned and blinked up at the night sky. He scans his surroundings, wincing as his head protested, and realized that he’d been caught somewhere in the left side amidst all the stone. At least he wasn’t completely trapped at the very bottom, although perhaps that would’ve been better as it would’ve definitely killed him.
Just his luck to be here, to have his elytra break, to have one of his hands pinned amongst the deepslate, his head bleeding, and at least two bones broken, instead of immediately dying. Joel almost wants to laugh at it all. Of course he wouldn’t die that easily. Of course it had to be painful.
He tries to move, ever so slightly, but just that one movement sent sparks of agony all throughout his body. He bites back a cry, wracking his brain on solutions to how to get out of here. If only he could just move and jump off so he could respawn, but his pinned arm restricted movement, and even if he tried to shift so he was closer to the edge, that, too, was much too painful.
So he just stares at the night sky and tries not to panic.
He doesn’t know how long he stayed like that—just lying helplessly on the ground, ears ringing incessantly, eyelids getting heavier, and the world growing more blurry by the second—until his free hand grazes against something solid. Confused, Joel turns his head, cringing at the pain, and sees his communicator lying face down on the stone.
He’d completely forgotten. Scrambling slowly so as not to jostle his aching head, Joel reaches for it and immediately turns away from the bright light. He takes a deep breath and privately messages the first person he could find among the list.
It was Grian. With another steadying breath, Joel wriggles his pinned arm and starts typing with trembling hands. His vision was blurring with white spots. He needed to hurry.
You whisper to Grian: grian
You whisper to Grian: helep
You whisper to Grian: everytjifns hursts
Grian’s response came instantaneously. Joel could cry.
Grian whispered to you: ???
Grian whispered to you: where are you
Grian whispered to you: what happened
You whisper to Grian: cherryy mounteain crater, wlytra browke. help
Grian whispered to you: omw
The communicator drops from his hands. Joel turns to his side, where the bottom of the crater was, just a few feet away. As the world around him begins to fade, Joel sees that same violet glimmer again, much like a twinkling star in the night sky, before disappearing and retreating back into the darkness.
Grian doesn’t think he’s ever been this worried before in his life, but then again, that same thought seems to be resurfacing quite often these days.
His quiet night of building and working on his base was abruptly interrupted by three messages. Three messages that now led him flying up the mountain, clad with a satchel filled with healing potions and bandages.
He finds Joel unconscious in the middle of the crater, one of his arms pinned under a piece of deepslate and a pool of blood under his head. Grian curses silently, moving down to gently shake his friend awake.
“Joel? Come on, wake up. You need this healing potion to get out of here.”
For a split second, he’s back there again, in that godforsaken glass room, calling out to Joel and desperately trying to get him away from the Watchers’ hold. He tries not to think too much about it and focuses on the task at hand.
Joel stirred and groaned, eyes glassy with pain and fatigue.
“You okay?”
“Grian…? Where am I?” Joel’s voice was weak and slurred.
“In the crater, remember? You said your…elytra broke, right?”
Joel’s eyebrows furrowed. “Oh, yeah…everything still hurts.”
Grian manages a half-hearted chuckle as he rummages through his bag. “Well, you did fall from a pretty high place. Come on, you should drink this.”
Joel squinted at the bottle. “What’s that?”
“A healing potion. Can you move your head at all?”
“No, I—” He winced, gesturing to his upper arm that was buried underneath the stone. “Even moving a bit hurts.”
Grian contemplates his options. “Should I call someone for a strength potion so I can move the stone?”
Joel shakes his head slowly. His eyes were fluttering close again.
“I’ll have to leave for a bit, then, to get it myself.”
Grian thinks that a flicker of fear appeared in Joel’s eyes before disappearing as quickly as it went. In the moonlight, he looked so frail and hurt and scared and so, so similar to the Joel that Grian saw a few weeks ago, wounds on his arms, blood on his clothes, and despair in his desperate eyes. He wishes he could do something more, wishes he could just take all of his hurts and scars away.
In the end, he got the potion after a quick look at his base. He drank it on the way and returned as fast as he could. Joel was barely conscious by now, eyes peering blankly at the bottom of the pit. He looked way too pale in the rays of moonlight illuminating the darkness of the abyss.
“Joel?” He said quietly. His earlier worry that had subsided returned with full vigor, a twisting feeling in the pit of his stomach. Joel was blinking slowly at something in the ground, but when Grian followed his gaze, all he saw was darkness stretching on for eternity.
Joel blinked up at him. “G…rian?”
“Yep. Still here, Joel.” Grian needed to get Joel out of here now. Moving slowly so as to not jostle him, Grian placed his hands on the stone, holding it firmly. “This might hurt.”
Joel nodded slightly, still glancing at the pit every once in a while. Just what was he looking at?
The stone was moved rather quickly. Grian tossed it to the side, muttering an apology when Joel winced in pain. He helped Joel lean against the stone, trying not to look at his bloodied hand when he pulled away. There was way too much blood here, staining the deepslate in dark red.
Joel’s head lolled to the side, eyelids closing. “Where…am I…?”
The bubble of worry in Grian’s chest has grown significantly by now. This Joel was so different from the one he’s known, confused and dazed with pain, looking up at Grian with exhausted, dull eyes. It seemed like yesterday they were both just messing around in the Secret Life server, trying to find the others and laughing at each other about their tasks. How did they end up here so quickly?
“The crater in Magic Mountain, Joel.” Grian said, holding the healing potion to Joel’s mouth. “We need to get you out of here, but you gotta drink this first.”
Joel shook his head slowly. “It’s…so loud. It’s so loud here, Grian.”
Grian’s hand stills. “What are you talking about?”
“They’re…” Joel sighs shakily, glancing at the bottom of the crater. His eyes flashed with unmistakable fear. “There’s something there. I don’t—I don’t know.”
“Dude, you’re seriously worrying me. Please drink this, it’ll help with the pain, at least.”
Once the bottle was empty, Joel leaned heavily against the stone, silently watching as Grian took out the bandages he'd brought. The healing potion would only work to alleviate the pain, not patch up the wounds, after all. He’d need a regeneration potion for that, but for now, the bandages would have to do.
Grian started with Joel’s head wound, carefully guiding him slightly forward to start the dressing at the back of his head. Grian winced in sympathy when he felt the blood there, soaking the white bandages and his fingers in red within a matter of seconds.
“This seems to be becoming a common occurrence…” Joel mumbles drowsily, half-lidded hazelnut eyes much less unfocused but still filled with exhaustion.
Grian bites his lips as he finishes the first bandage—it wasn’t perfect, but it does the job. Too much of this incident was much too familiar, and Grian can still feel the lingering fear and dread that was so overwhelming when he’d seen Joel that day. With his rumpled-up hair and tear-filled, wide eyes, it truly was jarring to see his friend in such a state. Grian still remembers—all too clearly, way too vividly, even after all these days—the frantic beating of his heart, the weight of Joel’s limp and tired body in his arms, the shaking of his own hands as he struggled to stop the bleeding, the metallic scent of blood in the air, and the bright red liquid staining the grass around them. He still remembers how much it hurt to see Joel like that.
And now….
Now Joel was looking at him curiously as he cut up another piece of dressing, covered in blood and cuts and wounds. He lifted up his bleeding, broken arm, too slowly for Grian’s liking—they really needed to get out of here—as Grian started bandaging him up in quick but careful motions.
“I really don’t want this to be a usual event for us.” A wrap around the underside of his arm, and a last one over the top finished the second one. Grian glanced over the rest of Joel’s wounds and took a last piece of the bandage.
“Sorry about that. And for now.” Joel said quietly.
If this was another situation completely, Grian might have laughed at the absurdity of it all. Here they were, in the middle of the crater that they made, and he’s bandaging up Joel in the middle of the night. But in the silence of this midnight, and how hauntingly familiar this scene is, it seemed like the weight of the world was on their shoulders. All their memories, all their fates, and all their days that led up to this moment seemed a little too heavy right now.
“You don’t need to apologize about that.” Grian murmured, watching as the bandages covered Joel’s bloodied skin layer by layer. If only it was that easy. If only he could also patch up all of Joel’s scars and heal it with his own hands, he’d do it in a heartbeat. “I did say I’d be there when you called for me, didn’t I?”
The smallest smile appears across Joel’s tired features. Grian smiled back.
“We should get out of here, though.” Grian slung the satchel over his shoulder. “Come on, I’ll carry you. The strength potion still has around a minute.”
Joel hummed in acknowledgement, and in a matter of seconds, they were flying out of the crater and into the cool night air. Joel was looking over Grian’s shoulder, into the abyss they’d just been in, that same dull look reflecting in his exhausted eyes. Confused, Grian glanced back but saw nothing. Just what was it that he was looking at? Was it because of the concussion?
But before he could ask, just then Joel fell asleep, his head lolling on Grian’s shoulder. Grian looked at him sadly and held on tightly as he flew across the dark skies. Even in sleep, Joel’s brows were slightly knitted together, like something in his dreams was chasing him eternally, and in his injured state he looked much more in pain.
“You’re such an idiot,” Grian muttered into the silence, heading for Joel’s base. “People care about you, you know.”
Around them, the night stretched on in a comfortable, humming quiet.