Chapter Text
The forest stretched endlessly ahead, dark trunks blurring past as Scar urged his horse into a steady walk. The deeper he went, the more the shadows thickened, curling around the trunks like dark smoke. The rhythmic sound of hooves against the earth should have been calming, grounding, a tether to reality. Tonight, it did nothing but amplify the turmoil within him. Every step seemed to echo against the hollow in his chest, reminding him that peace was nowhere to be found.
The night air tugged at his cloak, cool and sharp, stirring the fine hairs along his neck. It whispered through the leaves, teasing him, almost as if the forest itself had grown sentient, guiding him toward a place he had not known he sought. There was a strange logic to it, a silent insistence that the path ahead was meant to lead somewhere, and that somewhere was not empty.
The bramble underfoot crunched softly, and somewhere in the shadows, tiny eyes gleamed at him. He could feel them, not in the sense of fear, but in the undeniable weight of being watched. Scar had learned to trust his instincts; the forest, in its quiet persistence, had brought him here, and here was where he would find something—or someone—that would shift everything.
The giggling came first, soft and breathless, carrying a melody of intimacy that was not meant for him. He didn’t want to follow it, yet he did, because some part of him needed to see, to understand. And then the scene unfolded.
Grian. BigB. Too close. Far too close.
Scar’s grip on the reins tightened, knuckles whitening. The light of the moon caught the glint of Grian’s hair, the subtle flare of his wings as he leaned into BigB. Their laughter was careless, unguarded. The intimacy of it cut deeper than any blade could.
Then came the kiss.
Lingering. Real.
Every instinct screamed at him to look away, to escape, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t move.
His heart sank with each syllable, realizing how blind he had been. He had wanted to believe, to rewrite reality into something more bearable. But the truth was unyielding.
Ren’s presence was steady behind him. Scar reached instinctively, helping him onto the horse. Ren’s grip was desperate, almost fearful that he might vanish if let go. Scar’s own hands trembled but stayed firm.
“Let’s go,” Scar whispered, voice quiet but iron-edged. Ren didn’t speak. He didn’t need to.
The forest receded behind them, yet the feeling of being watched lingered, eyes in the shadows that were more than just forest creatures—like the weight of judgment, guilt, and shared pain pressing on them.
The horse’s hooves rang hollow against stone as the familiar structures of the base came into view, warm lantern light spilling out into the night.
The place belonged to the so-called Divorced Quartet, though the name no longer fit.
Pearl was already there by the time the horse slowed. Her wings fluttered sharply as she crossed her arms, eyes glowing faintly in the dark.
There was a stillness to her that always came before the storm.
“Well,” she said flatly, gaze flicking between Scar and Ren. “You look like hell.”
Scar slid off first and immediately turned to help Ren down, hands lingering longer than necessary at Ren’s sides, steadying him even after his feet hit the ground.
Ren leaned into it without thinking, shoulders slumped, tail low.
Scott followed more calmly, turquoise hair catching the lantern light like scattered stars. One look at their faces, and his expression softened.
“You can stay,” Scott said at once. “No questions. No expectations.”
Cleo emerged next, slower, eyes scanning them carefully. Scar’s tight jaw, the way Ren’s hands kept clenching at his sleeves.
“Do you need anything?” she asked gently. “Water? Food? Space?”
Scar opened his mouth. Closed it again.
Ren answered instead, voice cracked. “I don’t think I can be alone tonight.”
Cleo nodded. “Then you won’t be.”
Martyn hovered a little behind the others, hands shoved into his pockets. His eyes lingered on Ren longer than strictly necessary.
“Wow,” Martyn said lightly. “Did I miss a dramatic breakup, or is this a group crying session I wasn’t invited to?”
Ren huffed a weak, humorless laugh despite himself.
Scar sighed. “We’re not crying for the same reason.”
Martyn raised a brow. “Oh?”
Ren swallowed. “I thought BigB and I…even if it was platonic, I thought we told each other the truth.” His claws flexed uselessly. “Turns out that wasn’t really a thing.”
Scar followed quietly, voice low. “And I just found out Grian was with other man relationship while still telling me I was his.”
Martyn’s grin faded. Completely.
“…Oh,” he said, softer this time.
Ren dropped beside Scar at once, close enough that their shoulders pressed together. Scar’s arm wrapped around Ren automatically, pulling him in. Ren curled against him, forehead pressing into Scar’s shoulder, a broken sound slipping free.
The tears came quietly at first.
Pearl scoffed and shoved a blanket at them. “Cry properly if you’re going to do it.”
“If they hurt you,” she added sharply, “ruin them.”
“No,” Scar said immediately.
Pearl blinked. “No?”
“That’s not who I am,” Scar replied. “Not even now.”
Scott hummed thoughtfully. “I still don’t like revenge,” he said slowly. “…But manipulating them a little? Might be useful.”
Cleo laughed softly. “That’s a lot for someone who was just against revenge.”
Scott shrugged. “They’re too non-problematic to deserve that kind of betrayal.”
Ren shook his head. “I won’t do that. But I’m not going back to the base I share with BigB. Not yet.”
Scar hesitated. “I won’t shut the idea down completely,” he admitted. “But I do have to go back eventually. I need to take care of my pandas.”
That earned a weak smile.
They admitted, quietly, that neither of them had confronted their partners.
Not yet.
The night stretched on—fragmented conversations, long silences.
Martyn stayed close, brushing Ren’s hair back when his breathing hitched, making small jokes that didn’t quite land but helped anyway.
Eventually, exhaustion won.
They ended up tangled together on the floor.
Just people choosing not to let each other fall apart alone.
And for the first time that night, Scar slept.