Archive of Our Own ^beta

A mirage is a phenomenon in which someone thinks they see water. Most comonly occuring in deserts, they happen when light passes through two layers of air with different temperatures. The desert sun heats the sand, which in turn heats the air just above it. The hot air bends light rays and reflects the sky.

Grian doesn't believe he's been in that desert for years.

He remembers the war, remembers the way that he sliced his sword through so many of his enemies' heads. Remembers the exhilaration of each kill, how happy he was.

And coming back to Hermitcraft after failing Scar another time- it isn't a good feeling. Grian knows both he and Scar didn't try their best in the last game. But really, it feels like none of it mattered to Scar. No matter how hard Grian cared, how hard he tried to make sure they were happy, Scar just didn't care.

Even though they live so close to each other, even though their bases were so close to each other, so nearby. Even though everything outside the games were void to them when they were home, and though they were so close.

Grian flew. He set off and flew away from the direction of his base, just wanting to get away from a bit. God, he was so close to crashing out at that point.

He doesn't know how long he flew for, doesn't know where he's gone. Flying down, he sees sand, lots of it, and checks his comm.

He's in a desert. Great. Just where he'd wanted to end up.

His wings ached- he's tired. He ough to take a rest anyways. He lands, deciding that he'd use this to space out before killing himself to go back to his base later.

God. How could a silly game he wanted to play with a few friends to curb his own hunger turn out so badly?

He'd found someone to help them get linked up, to match them up at random to link them. He genuinely hoped that he'd have ended up with Joel, or Tim, or even BigB. Not Scar of all people. Not when he had his own feelings ruminating for years, ever since they'd met.

He sits, head tucked in his knees. Lets himself drift off for a bit, thinking about everything. He feels Etho, Cleo, and eventually Pearl come back. Extends his vision out to make sure Joel, Martyn and Scott are alright. (He's sure they wouldn't mind, he'd agreed to never use his Sight for anything malicious. He just wants to make sure his friends are in a good state of mind, that they've returned home safe.)

(He doesn't check on Scar though. Doesn't want to See the other. If he doesn't think about the other man, maybe his emotions wouldn't affect him as much. Maybe Grian could pretend that nothing had happened.)

Grian closes the server from his own panels, trusting that whenever he needed to fulfil his urges next that it'd be a better feeling than how Double Life had left him. He messages Pearl, a quick congratulations to her for winning, before the tiredness takes over him. Running a server out of his own energy to make sure no other Watchers take advantage of their mechanics to feed, (his friends' emotions were his and his only. Call Grian selfish, but he wouldn't let any of Them use his friends like that, especially not after what they did to him.) and to make sure that the world maintained it's hardcore mechanics without anyone actually dying.

Grian should have just stayed at home in his own bed. He's tired from running the server and thinking and flying this whole way. He feels himself get lost in the heaviness, dozing off to sleep near immediately.

"Psst, Grian," Grian hears a voice calling him. He doesn't immediately try to open his eyes, trying to orient himself to where he could possibly be when his back feels scratchy and his wings have sand in them.

He remembers the flight here, remembers Pearl winning, remembers falling asleep. It's impossible for anyone to have followed him out here, much less the owner of the voice.

As he opens his eyes, Scar's face stared back down at him. But where muted olive would be splashes of grey resided, and instead of emerald green looking into his eyes, he was staring into blood red irises instead.

Grian jerked up, "Scar" moving aside. Convenient, that the other would move away before Grian could touch him.

"You're not real." Grian breathed out in shock. "You can't be."

Grian hasn't been in The Desert for years. Scar is probably back home, working on Scarland or something of the sorts.

His knees hurt more than usual. His limbs ached, sore like he was while soulbound to Scar.

"Of course I'm real, G! Take a look at these pecs, how could any of that not be real?"

Grian looks away. Refuses to look at the version of Scar in front of him. Refuses to peek, even as much as he'd wanted to. This wasn't Scar, this mine conjured version could never be.

Grian's head was pounding. He could feel a migrane creeping on. Resting in a desert was a horrible idea. He should have gone home instead, just succumbed to resting in his bed like he usually did after the games.

The headache and overexhaustion was probably the reason for the fake Scar in front of him. He hadn't drank water since he'd gotten back, immediately took to flying blocks away.

Before he could respond to the fake Scar in front of him, he felt a loud thud on his head. His vision blacked out, he felt a nauseating respawn coming up, though he was sure his hearts were full-

GoodTimeWithScar fell from a high place.
Grian died.

What the fuck. No, genuinely. Grian doesn't take to swearing much. But what the actual hell happened here.

He's sure the soulmate bond turned off after returning to their own servers. He made sure of it, made sure everything was switched off when he'd turned off the server. The bonds shouldn't have stayed.

This was the worst possible scenario. Sinking down back into his bed, at least Grian's wings weren't covered in sand anymore. He'd have a field day preening on his own. He could always ask for help but it's not something he'd done with anyone other than Mumbo. Mumbo who was currently off somewhere and having the time of his life traversing mountains instead of being on Hermitcraft.

This was going to be a long day.

He heard someone fly into Dwayne, and thinking it's just someone checking up on him after that death message he turns to face the door, coming to look at the same eyes and nose and grin that he was avoiding just a while ago. Except that this smile was painfully real, olive skin full of scars and emerald eyes with a spark you could never possibly extinguish.

"Grian! Are you okay? I didn't think we'd still be soulbound- I thought-"

Grian yanks Scar down into a kiss, trying to shut the other man up. His brain was working overtime, he was moving on full instinct right now.

And yet, Scar seemed to deepen that kiss. He gripped the back of Grian's sweater, pulling the other man in. Sparks flew, it felt like someone was actually setting off fireworks.

"I'm sorry." Grian started the moment they detached from the kiss, a somber expression on his face.

"Whatever could that be for? I've been waiting for you to do that for a long, long time."

"I know it's just- I'm sorry. For the game. And that we're still soulbound."

Scar looked at Grian with the most admiration he'd ever seen someone hold. "It's really my fault, for not caring G. I'm just glad in the end it was you and not someone else."

Grian pulled Scar back into a hug, wanting to hold the other close as long as he could. "As much as I'm glad it was you too, buddy, I'm gonna have to remove the bond y'know. Scar, with all my heart, I really do care about you. But being soulbound to the person who dies the most on the server is probably the worst thing I could be put under."

Scar chuckled, ruffling Grian's hair under his hand.

"Whatever you say, Mr Grian. Whatever you say."