Chapter Text
Now, now, what sucker was going to come around to the antique store today, comb meticulously through the keeper’s wares, and land on the beautiful mirror in the dusty shop corner, displayed grandly for all to see.
Perhaps this was an optimistic view; most customers passed Grian’s prison by without a second glance, some admired the intricacy and moved on, and no one had bought him in quite some time, but hey, nothing wrong with being an optimist!
As with most customers, Grian did not recognize the man that walked in during the late afternoon; lots of people only shopped once and never again so it didn’t make a habit of memorizing faces, but.. This one stood out. He was a nicely manicured kind of guy, tall, lanky, and well-dressed to the point that he looked out of place; what a silly thing to be.
Grian liked silly people. She liked silly men. One might go as far as to say she Just Liked Men, but Grian would not be this ‘One’ fellow, because her standards were very high indeed, and she was not fickle enough to be charmed by a pretty face. A clumsy disposition however…
This idiot must have tripped over his untied dress shoes like five times since entering the shop; they were really too big for him it seemed, and why wear dress shoes at all in the first place? Grian was sure he was going to break something, but when the man took an interest in one of the wares, his touch was feather-light, turning the antique in his large, knobby hands with the kind of care someone might afford to a baby bird.
It was meant to be.
Disregard all other times it was meant to be, because this time Grian felt it, the electricity when their eyes met, the tension as the stranger stepped delicately forward toward Grian’s mirror. Maybe he would trip and fall through it, and Grian would catch him, her own curse keeping her from the physical world broken, and this stranger, a little cut up from the glass, would probably say something silly and posh like ‘goodness me!’ and Grian would let the moment draw itself out before easing him to his feet, a clawed hand slipped past his waist before breaking the connection entirely. Would the stranger chase Grian’s touch? Most certainly. Anyone would.
“Isn’t this something,” the man mumbled, and Grian closed its eyes, preening under the stranger’s gaze. It didn’t keep its eyes closed for long, however, not when there was so much to see. The man drew his hand along the intricate edge of the mirror and Grian almost felt it, she did feel it, she could imagine his touch as clearly as if his hand had graced her side, slipping smoothly down her waist. ‘Aren’t you something,’ he’d said. He was going to save her. Free her. Grian would repay him kindly. For now, the passion of his reflection staring back at him would have to do.
The man’s interest was thick enough to taste, and when he scampered off, Grian knew he would return. It was not so thrilled to see a guardian angel— presumably the stranger’s— take his place.
“There are about a hundred not-haunted knickknacks in these places, and every damn time he goes for the one thing that could kill him.” The angel threw back his head, exasperated. “Alright, alright, who’s in there. Open up, let’s see you.”
Grian huffed. He did not have to show himself for the sake of an angel, especially one that looked like it wanted to get in the way. Though, maybe Grian should make clear now that interfering would be unwise. As a part of his curse, he was unable to interact with the physical world; he hardly had any power at all, but this angel didn’t have to know that.
It stepped out of its mirror, wings splayed and tail lashing. The angel did not look impressed.
“A demon, then. Of course.”
Grian bared its teeth in a smile most unkind. “If we’re going to be acquainted, how about an exchange of names?”
“Skizz, guardian angel of the human, Mumbo Jumbo. But we will not be acquainted.”
Grian scoffed. “Are you going to exorcise me? Sure. But first you have to let me out.”
“No.” Skizz snatched Grian up by the scruff of his sweater, then slammed him back through the mirror as Mumbo rounded the corner. “You’re just going to stay put.” Something shimmered over the surface of the glass, then fell like waves over Grian’s entire realm, blinding white-yellow light scorching the walls of his prison, then fading, leaving him in darkness. The first thing she noticed was her view from the glass was limited strictly to the window of the mirror. When she tried to push through the glass, give that angel a piece of her mind, she bounced right off. What!?
“Do you like it?” Mumbo asked, and Grian was so stunned by his own predicament he didn’t even process that Mumbo seemed to be speaking directly to his angel. “Or is it haunted again.”
“I like it,” Skizz said simply. Then he left Mumbo alone, Grian pressing its face to the barrier as Skizz floated out of reach.
…
Being a normal mirror was stupid and annoying, but if Grian had to be a mirror anywhere, he’d want to be one within the walls of Mumbo’s home. Now, Mumbo’s apartment wasn’t anything spectacular, and it was far less interesting than living in the antique store, but this place had Mumbo, and Mumbo was the best human in the whole wide world; heaven, hell, and all other realms included.
Mumbo spent a lot of time staring into the mirror. Grian spent a lot of time staring back. He was really quite handsome with that pointed, angular face, almost gaunt but not alarmingly so. As much as Grian loved having Mumbo here, she was of the opinion he really needed some sun. Sure, being pale is one thing, but looking sickly is quite another. If Grian had some sort of silly fear of ghosts, she might have screamed when she first saw him! Mumbo was just beginning to go grey as well, a look that quite suited him. Grian wished it could tell him. Tell him not to dye his hair.
It was a little alarming at first when Mumbo started speaking into the mirror.
When Mumbo looked Grian dead in the eyes and said “This is stupid,” Grian all but expected him to smash the mirror right then and there, but then he’d stalked off, looking frustrated. Grian wanted to help him. Run its hands through his hair, just break the mirror, break the mirror, Mumbo, and I can finally know what your hair feels like. It looked soft. Grian wanted to pluck his gray hairs. She liked them, she didn’t want them to go, but at the same time, it just seemed like good fun. Mumbo would not be so frustrated with Grian at his back, preening his scalp.
Mumbo started speaking to Grian more often after that. Little things, every few days.
“This is stupid, but if you pretend it’s not stupid, you might feel better.” Pause. “No, nevermind, this is stupid.”
“I’m going to try this again because it works for other people and I think it can work for me, but— Actually, not today.”
One time, Mumbo sidled up with a blindfold. He looked so happy, so pleased with himself before speaking, “Aha! I’ve bested you, my reflection. My problem was that I could not look you in the eyes, but I— Oh, wait a minute, that’s the whole point of the exercise.. isn’t it.. whatever.” And then he walked away.
“Fuck you!”
“I’m sorry about yesterday.”
“This is still stupid. I should stop saying that. Correction, this is not stupid.”
“I know you won’t believe me, but I love you.” Mumbo scampered away before Grian could say it back.
She wasn’t.. entirely sure what was going on, but she welcomed the conversation! It hoped Mumbo would talk to it more, for longer.
He did.
“Listen, things are just.. complicated. I think you’re a good person. I think you do good things. I just wish you didn’t also make things so— so difficult for me! And everyone else! It doesn’t feel good to be a burden, and that’s what having a panic disorder does, so— so stop!”
“I’m not supposed to be unkind to you. It’s just hard. I don’t like anything about you.”
“My therapist made me come up with a couple things to say to you in session, since I couldn’t do it on my own. I cried. A lot. And I don’t think you deserve to hear them yet.”
“Maybe it’s— I know this is stupid, but you have a nice mustache. People compliment it all the time, so it must be true. You haven’t gotten fired yet, so you’re alright at your job. You.. you’re alright, mate.”
“I’m not supposed to say the things I like about you with conditions, but I don’t want to. Actually, if you’re so insistent on unconditional compliments, then you won’t get any at all!”
“You’re alright. You might even be better than that.”
“I know you’re trying. That means something. I’m trying too.”
Grian had no fucking idea what was going on with this guy, but he was enchanted. Whatever Mumbo wanted to say to him, he would listen. No strings attached. Partially because Grian had no choice, but hey, if he did have a choice he’d be trailing Mumbo all day just to hear him speak.
“You’re alright.”
“You know, you were kind of funny today. You’re not usually funny. It was kind of awesome.”
“Your hair looks nice today.”
“Dude, today fucking sucked, pull it together, seriously, nothing happened and you’re still so—“ Mumbo stormed out, and Grian was disheartened to see him go. But then he came back. “Quick amendment. That wasn’t fair. You have an anxiety disorder. Seriously though, today was awful.”
“I still feel like shit, but I guess that’s not your fault.”
“Whoa, eyes are like.. crazy..” Mumbo was so close to the mirror that Grian had to back away— Listen, it wanted nothing more than to see Mumbo up close and personal, but this was too close and too weird, no thanks. He continued to look at his eyes for a long time.
“Gem said you make a good lesbian from the back, which is funny and must be true since.. well, I don’t want to talk about that. Worst morning of my life. You know. But if I make a good lesbian from the back, I’d say I should take this as a compliment! And hey, we’re still friends!” Mumbo’s face fell suddenly into something deeply grave, “This is a reminder and a threat to never black out again.”
“I do love you. I do. I love you at least as much as I hate you, which probably doesn’t feel very good since you are aware how much I— It doesn’t matter. I can just say it, and leave it out there. No need to add anything. Just say it. I love you.”
Grian let a hand rest against the other side of the mirror. “I love you too.”
Mumbo stared into the mirror for a long time that day. For a minute, Grian thought he’d heard it, but no, there was no recognition there, no fear or excitement. Unless..
Grian was quite happy with ‘unless.’
…
“A demon. A literal demon this time, I swear, this guy can see spirits in order to actively avoid them and he’s the worst human I’ve ever had guardianship over in terms of plain bad luck. And it’s— it’s not that I want to discourage him from buying the things he likes to buy, this is Mumbo’s life and he should get to live it without interference just like any other human, but he’s a spirit magnet! Now if you’d told me that before, I wouldn’t have believed it was a thing, but you could convince me now if you’d told me you’d seen another case like this!”
“A demon, huh? Must be a pretty nasty guy.” Impulse didn’t look back from where he was shoveling coal into a massive furnace; hell had frozen over again, and he was part of the crew that got things back into shape. Impulse did, however, spare Skizz a glance when he scoffed, wiping soot from his face as he spoke, “What, am I not supposed to be offended?”
“You’re not offended.”
Impulse shrugged. “I might be,” he said coyly, turning back to his work.
Skizz rolled his eyes. “Any extra shovels down here?”
“No. Can’t have you lingering, you know that. Move along, now.”
“Naahhh, that’s nonsense, no one is here. I’ll use my hands if you don’t point me in the direction of a spade.”
“No can do.” Impulse’s bulky tail swished impatiently, but Skizz did not cave so easily. He sidled up beside Impulse, leaning over to grab a handful of black-red coals before Impulse could yelp, “Skizz! Those are hot!”
Skizz’s scream confirmed that yes, the coals were indeed hot. You win this time, hell.