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Grian sat stiffly in his chair, his eyes darting back and forth between Mumbo and Sam.
Mumbo had reported the body hardly a second after it dropped, running straight to the cafeteria in a panic screaming that Sam had killed Pink.
Poor Mumbo looked terrified, hands drenched in blood and breathing heavily as he faced Sam.
Sam had the gall to look satisfied, that stupid smug grin on his face as he stared Mumbo straight in the eyes. The cocky bastard hadn't even bothered to wipe the blood off before walking in.
He didn't need to be cautious anymore though, Grian supposed. Mumbo was the last crewmate alive.
"Grian, please, you have to believe me! It was Sam! He-" Mumbo cut himself off, breathing deeply to try and keep the panic at bay.
"He killed Pink, I saw him do it. He's still covered in th- their blood!"
Sam chuckled, lazily leaning against his hand as his eyes flicked to Grian's for a second, like they were in on a joke together, before going back to staring at Mumbo again.
"So are you? And nah, it was Mumbo. Saw him kill and immediately self-report. Can you believe it, Grian?"
Grian swallowed, finding it difficult to speak around the lump in his throat.
"No. No that... That doesn't seem like him."
Sam bared his teeth in a grin, its stretch just a touch non-human.
"But he did! Wow, you think you know a guy, right Gree-on?"
Sam giggled, leaning forward in anticipation. His transformation cool down had to be close to being recharged by now.
"So what do you say? Want to toss him off the ship?"
Mumbo was on the edge of a panic attack now, his begging was desperate as he muttered unintelligible pleas for Grian to please just believe him.
He... He really didn't want to kill Mumbo. He'd grown attached to the engineer over the past few months he'd been on the ship. Moments of kindness and caring building up until Grian had realized he'd kill and die for the man.
But there was no reality where Sam let that happen. He was extremely bloodthirsty- even for an imposter- and he enjoyed killing his prey in ways that would torment the unfortunate victims.
Yellow was scared of the dark? Sam had killed him as he tried to fix the lights, and his final scream had echoed throughout the ship like a death omen.
Afraid of blood like poor Purple had been? Grian had been able to smell the carnage in Med-Bay all the way across the ship in shields. The unfortunate crew mate- Lime- who'd found the body had been traumatized.
She was one that Grian had killed. It had felt like a mercy. Sam would've kept her alive until the very end, forced to watch everyone around her die horrible, gruesome deaths.
Mumbo was... Right now, Mumbo was terrified of not being believed. Of being thrown out into the endless void of space while he thought a poor, innocent Grian was stuck with a violent imposter.
Sam clapped his hands together, and Mumbo flinched back hard enough that his seat scrapped loudly against the floor.
"Well, I think it's time to vote! I know we really don't need to, but I think we should do it for old times sake, you know?"
Grian absently nodded, clicking his tablet to submit his vote. Mumbo had already voted earlier the moment he sat down, not realizing that it was only the three of them left at the time.
Sam's eyes glinted viciously as their tablets counted the votes, his teeth sharpening too much to be a human's as the results flashed on the screens.
Sam_Gladiator - 1 Vote
Mumbo_Jumbo - 2 Votes
The poor man collapsed in his seat, heaving cries shaking his body as he broke down.
Sam watched gleefully, his eyes manically bright as he watched the man sob.
"Alright! Hey Gree-on, would you like to do the honors?"
Grian took a deep breath, eyes never leaving Mumbo even as he answered Sam.
"... Sure. Can you open the air lock?"
"Yep!" Sam stood up, jogging to the door and eagerly awaiting Grian as he dragged Mumbo up from where he was slumped over the table.
He slung Mumbo's arm over his shoulders, completely carrying the man as he followed Sam.
Sam led them through the hallways quickly, and Grian was thankful that Mumbo was completely out of it because if he wasn't Grian wouldn't have any explanation as to why he was able to easily carry the dead weight of a man that was almost two feet taller than him.
Sam practically skipped into the ejection bay, wiggling with excitement next to the control panel as he waited for Grian to catch up.
"Can you open it for me? My hands are a bit full." Grian shifted Mumbo to make the point.
"On it!"
Sam turned around to do as asked, humming an upbeat tune as he fiddled with the controls.
He was probably excited to get this over with, to go back home. This excursion had dragged on longer than they thought it would, and they'd been stuck here for over a year on a mission that should've only taken four months.
Grian gently lowered Mumbo to the floor, careful not to make a sound that wouldn't be covered by Mumbo's sobbing.
He sneaked a few steps forward, stopping a few feet behind Sam as the man stood at the control panel, only feet away from the airlock.
"All done! Now throw him-" Sam didn't get to finish his sentence before Grian was ramming into him, the sudden force of the shove sending him tumbling into the airlock.
Grian slammed his hand on the close button immediately, the airlock barely had enough time to seal before Sam was up and pounding on the door.
"What the hell Grian?! This isn't fucking funny, let me out!" Grian ignored him, hands shaking as he fumbled through the procedure to open the ejection doors.
"You fucking traitor! If you don't let me out right now I'll kill you!"
There was a surveillance camera in the airlock, so he could see Sam slamming his shoulder against the airlock door. Grian noticed small indentions starting to take shape in the metal whenever he risked a glance over.
He was almost done, he just needed to press a few more buttons-
Sam looked up at the camera, angry and confused. No doubt wondering why Grian was doing this.
"At least fight me face to face if you want to kill me! You stupid-"
The rest of whatever he was going to say was cut off, his body being violently wrenched out into space the second the outer doors opened.
Sam_Gladiator has been ejected.
Grian stared blankly at the video feed as the doors closed, the sound of Mumbo's continued sobbing was the only sound he could hear over the blood roaring in his ears.
He'd just killed Sam. He'd just killed his teammate, his packmate- a man he'd known for years, since childhood- to save the man he met less than a year ago.
He couldn't quite say he regretted it. Sam was an asshole, and Mumbo was one of the kindest people he'd ever met.
Shit, if anyone ever found out what just happened here, from either side? He was so screwed.
He took a deep breath, gently uncurling his fingers from where they'd started to leave imprints in the metal control panel.
Mumbo. He needed to calm Mumbo down. Let him know he was safe, that it was all just to trick Sam.
They wouldn't have been able to throw the maniac out on their own. The man was stronger than Grian, he'd barely won some of their sparring matches even on good days- let alone now that he was accustomed to a cushy life as a crewmate.
Grian stumbled as he walked towards Mumbo, feeling somewhat distant from the situation, even though he was smack in the middle of it.
He grabbed the man's hands, gently untangling them from where they'd been yanking at hair.
"It's alright. It's okay Mumbo, just breathe. I got you. Sam's gone. He can't hurt anyone anymore." He ran his thumbs over the top of Mumbo's hands, trying to relax the man at least enough to properly breathe.
They sat there for a long time, Mumbo either not hearing his repeated assurances or not believing them.
After about an hour of mumbled reassurances and comfort he started to calm down, hands starting to weakly squeeze back at Grian's. His strength was probably sapped from the prolonged panic attack- one that Grian had absolutely made worse.
Mumbo finally looked up at him, eyes red and cheeks tear stained.
"Grian? What's going... Didn't you..?"
He trailed off, head swiveling around as he presumably looked for the Imposter.
"Sam is..." Mumbo snapped his head back, staring up at Grian with wide eyes at the name. "Sam's gone. I shot him out of the airlock."
Mumbo's jaw dropped a little, his eyebrows scrunching up in confusion.
"But... You thought it was me?"
Grian shook his head.
"No! Never. I never thought it was you, I just..." The image of Sam's final moments flashed in his mind, the betrayal in his eyes as Grian chose a human over his packmate.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, exhaling shakily before looking at Mumbo again.
"I just needed Sam to think that I did. He wouldn't- he wouldn't have just let us eject him." Wouldn't have let Grian keep Mumbo alive without a fight.
Mumbo sniffed, wiping his arm across his face to try and dry it.
"Right. Probably not. I should've thought of that."
They sat in a heavy, oppressive silence. Or at least it felt like it to Grian. What was he supposed to do now? Sam was dead, and Mumbo was alive. Grian wasn't going to kill Mumbo, and Mumbo would never think that Grian was an Imposter.
They'd be safe after the ship landed, coddled and comforted by the landing crew as they cared for what they thought were two traumatized crewmates, gently guiding them to separate medical bays where they'd be scanned for injuries- and to see if they were actually humans.
They'd imprison Grian in a heartbeat, no matter if he killed Sam or not. He's heard the stories from Imposters who'd escaped the containment centers, and he had no desire to undergo the torturous experimentations he'd heard whispered about among the young recruits.
As much as Grian longed to stay with h̶i̶s̶ n̶e̶w̶ p̶a̶c̶k̶m̶a̶t̶e̶ Mumbo, it wouldn't be safe for either of them. Grian needed to be gone before anyone could suspect him of being an imposter. Before they could tell Mumbo that his friend was a monster.
And Mumbo couldn't come with Grian. Even if he would've been okay with Grian being an Imposter- which he absolutely wouldn't be- the moment any other Imposter caught wind of Mumbo being human they'd kill him immediately. And Grian just wasn't strong enough to keep him safe.
The best option was to leave Mumbo in the care of the human medical officers before sneaking away and fleeing back to the Mother-Ship, where he'd gather sympathy for losing a packmate to the humans and barely escaping with his life.
It was a good plan. He had to do it. No matter how much the thought of leaving Mumbo hurt.
But for now, he could enjoy the next few days. Just him and Mumbo until they reached the port.
Well, as much as he could enjoy it with Mumbo likely being severely traumatized anyway.
-
The next few days went by much faster and way less enjoyably than Grian had optimisticaly hoped for. Grian spent most of it taking care of Mumbo. The man had gone worryingly silent since Sam's ejection, often staring blankly at the walls for hours before randomly breaking down into tears.
It was hard to keep him fed. Grian literally had to help with every bite, and encouraging the taller man to finish a full meal could take hours and many, many re-heats before he would eat an acceptable amount.
But they'd managed. He liked to think he'd helped. Mumbo was doing better, actually seeming aware again when Grian woke him up this morning.
Grian had also had to face reality this morning as well. Mumbo was more than a friend.
It was obvious that Grian's instincts considered the tall man to be a packmate, the violent urge to protect and care for him much stronger than it'd ever be for just a friend.
He hadn't even known Imposters could pack-bond with humans, but with how much he wanted to go back in time and rip Sam's throat out just for indirectly making Mumbo act like this-
Well, sadly he couldn't do that.
Unfortunately, they were rapidly closing in on the Port-Planet they'd changed course to land at. Meaning Grian would have to say goodbye to the man who'd become his packmate.
Grian and Mumbo were standing in navigation together, watching the planet below get closer and closer.
"We made it." Mumbo's words came out quiet, barely whispered and impossible to make out unless you had better hearing than a human.
Grian watched as Mumbo's hand came up to rest on the viewing window, uncaring of the smudges left on the glass as he traced the lights below.
"It almost doesn't feel real, you know?" Mumbo huffed a humourless laugh, eyes tired as he stared at the gleaming metal structures starting to come into focus.
"I keep expecting to see White piloting the ship. Or for Yellow to make sure I've eaten enough. Or to see Lime and Purple hopelessly pinning over each other every time I walk into the Med-Bay. I-" he cut himself off with a shaky breath, head bowed and eyes closed as he rode out a wave of grief.
"But I know it's real. I'll never get to see them again. Grian, what are we going to tell their families? We were the last ones to see them alive. White had kids-" Grian placed a hand on Mumbo's shoulder, drawing him into a hug as he started to cry.
"Why did this happen, Grian?" The man mumbled miserably into his shoulder. "They didn't do anything wrong."
They existed, Grian thought. Existed brightly, and loudly, and way too close to the Imposters viciously defended territory when they were so delectably edible. But having that knowledge wouldn't make Mumbo feel any better. Wouldn't do anything to ease his too kind soul.
"I don't know Mumbo. I don't know." He tightened his grip on the taller man, cherishing what was possibly the last hug he'd ever get from his new packmate.
He sighed, gently pushing Mumbo just far enough away to look him in the eyes.
"There's something I need to tell you." Mumbo blinked down at him, rubbing his eyes clear of tears with a hand before looking expectantly at Grian.
Best to just- what do humans say? Oh yeah- rip off the bandage, right?
"I'm leaving."
It took a few seconds for the meaning of his words to register, but when they finally clicked Grian got a front row seat to the way Mumbo's expression shattered.
"What? Grian, what do you mean leaving? We just got here." Mumbo grabbed Grian's sweater tightly, undoubtedly stretching the fabric.
How could he explain this without sounding like an Imposter?
"Me and the government don't exactly... get along," He started, voice tight. "I can't- I can't let them ID me. And Med-Staff are obligated reporters. It wouldn't go well."
Mumbo frowned, his grip on Grian’s sweater momentarily tightening before relaxing again.
"Wh- The government? Grian, What- how?"
He could feel the ship shake as they entered the atmosphere. There were only minutes until they landed. He needed to go.
"Wait, hold on-! You can't just leave-!" Mumbo protested as Grian gently uncurled his fingers from the sweater, fighting down the instinctual urge to find and violently murder whatever was making his packmate so distressed. Instead he used his free hand to press a slip of paper into Mumbo's shaking hands.
"Here's my personal Comm-Code. Please, don't give it to anyone else." The man gripped it tightly, seemingly on reflex more than anything else.
"Grian- no, please. I can't do this alone."
Mumbo's voice cracked, sounding so scared it made him flinch. It nearly shattered the unnatural calm Grian had forced over himself.
"You'll be okay. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Mumbo." He mumbled into Mumbo's shoulder. "I'll see you again one day. I promise." He'd make sure of it, or he'd die trying.
He wishes he could just tell Mumbo that if he had any choice, he'd stay.
But he can't. He just has to suck it up.
He needs to leave before the volatile swirl of emotions swimming underneath the fog in his head kick back in.
He pulled back before he could change his mind, hands finding Mumbo’s and squeezing them tightly.
"Come on." He led Mumbo out of navigation and towards the loading bay, where the ship's massive entrance ramp would be lowered any minute.
They stopped a few feet away from the ramp, safely behind the barrier bars that surrounded all the moving parts.
"They'll help you, make sure you're okay. It'd make it easier for me if you didn't tell them I was here, but it's okay, you can tell them if you want." Grian was starting to ramble, his iron-clad grip on himself was slipping. He could feel himself start to shake.
He turned to say goodbye, planning to immediately run off after and spare himself the embarrassment of breaking down- like he had the right to be upset when he'd been one of the monsters that'd made Mumbo's life a living hell.
When he looked up it was hard to see Mumbo's expression, as his vision had suddenly become very blurry.
Mumbo's hand reached towards his face, gently wiping away the tears he hadn't noticed, clearing his sight so he could see the man staring down at him, looking worried.
"Grian…" His name must’ve been a magic word- or maybe it was just because the other man sounded so concerned- but the moment he spoke, Grian burst into tears.
Mumbo startled before drawing him in for a hug. Grian hid his face in the man's chest, trying to hide his ugly crying.
"I'm sorry Mumbo, I don't want to go."
His voice was drifting dangerously close to whining territory. He really needed to shut up, before Mumbo realized there was only one thing out in space that'd be so desperate to not be identified.
Mumbo rubbed his back, taking care of him in a complete reversal of what the roles had been for the past few days.
"Are you sure you have to go?" Grian nodded miserably against Mumbo's chest, desperately trying to shove his emotions back into the box they belonged in.
"I could... I could go with you? I couldn't mess up your one-man-fugitive plans too much, right?"
It was said more like a question to himself than to Grian, but he was already vehemently shaking his head regardless.
"No. No, you need to stay. They can help you here."
"They can help you too, Grian. Whatever it is, it can't be that bad."
It shocked a genuine laugh out of him. Yeah, an Imposter just strolling onto a government-run planet like he owned the place. That'd go well.
"I can't."
An oppressive silence fell over them. It wasn't necessarily bad, per se, just... Heavy.
A distant part of him was pleased at how well Mumbo was doing. He'd been more active these past few minutes than he'd been in days.
He felt the slight tremble of the ship as it landed. Time was up.
His grip on Mumbo's shirt tightened, turning his knuckles white before he let go completely.
"I’ll see you again," he murmured, face still hidden away from the cruel, uncaring universe. "I swear it on every star in the sky."
"I'll hold you to that, Grian."
Mumbo's voice sounded thick as he let go of the hug, glancing down at the paper still clenched tightly in his hand.
"We'll talk soon, yeah?"
Grian nodded, a wobbly smile on his face as he tried to memorize what Mumbo looked like.
"Yeah."
Then Grian was gone. Slinking out of the room and shooting down the winding hallways, sliding into vents when he saw them for quick shortcuts.
He was going for the back of the ship, far away from any pesky humans that'd try to capture him. But that wasn't the only reason he was heading there.
Humans stayed far away from the rear end of a ship after it landed, wary of the boiling hot air still fuming off the thrusters. And as long as he was careful, it was a great place to sneak away at.
Most ships auto switched to exterior-oxygenation after landing, the humans onboard were usually desperate for air that hadn't been cycled through the same twenty trees for the past few months. And when that happened-
Grian dove into a larger than normal vent, crawling through the fresh flowing air until he pushed through to the other side, opening it to see the outdoor docking bay they'd landed in.
-It opened up the outer ventilation shafts.
Grian glanced around, and after making sure no one was nearby he dropped down. This must've been a severely underfunded outpost, as there weren't even any cameras pointing towards the ship. A security oversight that Grian profusely thanked as he dashed away from the area.
He didn't stop until he was on the next ship out, promising some cheap manual labor in exchange for a ride to the Inlara star system.
From there he'd planet hop a few more times, making sure that if anyone was searching for him, they'd loose the trail before he headed back to the Mother-Ship.
It was only after the jump engines fired, after the port-planet vanished completely from view, that he finally allowed himself to just breathe.
He curled up on the scratchy cot in the utility closet that was serving as his temporary bedroom, pressing his forehead against his knees. His eyes were shut tight against the tears trying to fall, mourning both of the packmates that he'd lost.
At least Mumbo was alive. He was safe and protected, surrounded by humans who could take care of him. That was all that mattered.
It was enough for Grian, for now.
It had to be.