Archive of Our Own ^beta

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── .✦

Screams split through the air, ear-piercing wailing of people dying.

Bodies were everywhere, littering the streets, sprawled out across snow-covered yards. Streaks of red cut through the white, where the snow was kicked up by people's desperate struggles against those creatures.

The air was cold, freezing almost. Much colder than usual. The sky was cloudy. It was night. The moon was hidden.

More screams of pain, coming from everywhere. It was chaotic. It was horrifying.

Managled bodies fell from the sky. Pieces of flesh, an arm. A corpse so mutilated and torn it was hard to tell if it had even been a person at all.

Shouts of terror and desperation filled the air. His lungs were burning. When had he been running?

A hand grabbed at his ankle. He ignored it, kicking it away. He had to find—

Find? Find what?

His legs ached as he kept running—running. Why was he running?

Another scream pierced the air. He had to leave. She had told him to leave. But where was—

A sharp breath escaped him as another creature fell from the sky in front of him, landing in a heap of bloodied feathers. It snarled and growled, whipping its head back and forth, searching for its next target.

He stumbled away, ducking behind a smashed car as the creature lunged for another man on the street. He covered his ears, scrambling away and pushing down the well of fear in his chest, ignoring the man's screams.

He had to leave—where was he going? Was he still searching? Searching for—searching for who?

A body fell to the snow in front of him. Nausea swam in his chest. They didn't have a head.

Side-stepping the body, he kept running. Away. Away from the terror, the blood, the monsters. Gunshots rang out behind him. He flinched. A creature hissed in pain.

He had to find—she had told him to find—who?

His thoughts raced. His lungs burned. His feet kept beating against the ground, but he was slowing. Where was he going?

Something slammed into his side, knocking him to the ground. A choked-off scream escaped him. A blinding, burning pain consumed him. It felt like someone had ripped open his back. Did they?

His hands clawed at the freezing snow, the pain lacing up through his veins. He choked and sputtered, crying out, screaming-

── .✦

March 23rd

── .✦

Grian woke with a start, gasping, grabbing out blindly in the darkness. His hands meet the soft fur of his blanket, warm against his shaking fingers.

He sat upright, shivering despite the sweat clinging to him. His breathing was fast, coming in sputtering gasps. His heart was beating frantically in his chest, a hand coming to rest on his collarbone as he struggled to steady his breathing.

A sudden movement beside him made him flinch, whipping around with a sharp inhale, eyes wide as he strained to see in the darkness. He choked on a gasp, his lungs burning with each breath of air. He shivered.

"Whoa- G, hey," A voice whispered in the dark beside him. Grian felt a hand rest on his back, warm in the cold air. The figure shifted again, but Grian couldn't focus enough to see it clearly in the darkness.

He took another shuddering breath, feeling something warm and sticky drip down his cheek. He—was he crying? Another gasping breath escaped him, his lungs feeling both impossibly small and much too big inside his chest, unable to expand properly to allow himself to breathe.

Curling in on himself, he felt the hand resting against his back rub softly against his skin through his sweater. "Easy, breathe," the voice whispered again, the figure crouching down slightly so they weren't towering over him anymore.

Grian tried to follow their instructions, breathing shakily as he tried to take a deep breath. His lungs burned, squeezing in his chest. Barely aware of the motion, Grian found himself leaning back against the hand on his back, still rubbing soft circles against him.

"Shh, just breathe," the voice soothed, shifting slightly as Grian leaned against him, feeling the weight of their side as they pulled him a bit closer. His breath hitched, hands coming up to wipe the tears from his eyes, though it didn't do much to stop them.

He cursed himself internally, feeling like a little kid again, scared and helpless.

The phantom ache in his back returned. It felt like it was burning under his skin. His chest tightened, suddenly jerking away from the hand rubbing circles on his back.

The hand vanished quickly, pulled away as if in a hurry. "Sorry, sorry," the figure whispered.

Grian blinked tears from his vision, finally managing to focus his gaze on the person sitting next to him on the bed of furs. He registered the soft gaze of two green eyes gazing down at him in the dim light, a messy head of brown hair, and a pair of lips pulled into a thin line in worry.

He scrubbed at his eyes with his hands, struggling to get his breathing under control. Pressing back against the blankets, Grian turned himself to face the figure—Scar—hiding his back from view, despite the sweater covering his scar.

"G—hey? You back with me?" Scar questioned, his brows furrowing.

Grian took a shaky breath, the tightness in his chest finally easing as he focused on Scar again. Faintly, he was aware of the warmth of the man's hand resting just beside his, fingers brushing just barely. "Yeah—yeah, I'm…I'm back."

Scar breathed a small sigh of relief, the worry in his expression easing. "Good," he said. "You had me a bit worried there."

A shaky huff escaped him, a sad attempt at a laugh, though his voice was still rough as he spoke. "Sorry—it was… nightmare," he explained, still struggling to catch his breath.

"Don't be sorry." Scar frowned. "…it seemed bad."

Grian sighed, trying to shrug off Scar's worry. "It- it wasn't really… just- um…" His voice trailed off. He didn't exactly want to get into the details of it with Scar, to relive the end of the world once more. Not now, at least.

Scar pressed his lips into a thin line, his frown still present, but it seemed he understood Grian's unspoken words. "I see," he murmured.

Running his hands through his hair, Grian tried to shake off the lingering anxiety still curling in his chest. He felt jumpy now, his eyes darting towards the shack door and glancing out the window every few moments, as he usually did after those types of nightmares.

Looking around the shack, Grian only now noticed the light from the fireplace had died down. The chill air nipped at his skin where the warm blankets had fallen from his shoulders. He shivered slightly before moving to stand.

Though before he could push himself off the bed, Scar caught his wrist, tugging him back. "Wait, I've got it," he said, swinging his legs over as his socked feet thumped lightly against the floor.

"I can do it," Grian huffed, though he didn't make any moves to fight back as Scar got up.

Scar just shushed him, stumbling slightly in the dim light as he made his way over to the woodbox beside the fireplace. "Ugh—why's it so dark?" He complained, struggling to find the latch to open the box.

Grian rolled his eyes, a soft laugh escaping him. "Because it's night?"

"But still—"

A sound of rustling outside cut Scar's words off, causing them both to tense.

Grian was already moving halfway off the bed, his eyes trained on the door. More rustling noises came from outside. Someone was out there.

Or, maybe something.

He glanced over to Scar, who had stiffened, the firewood now completely forgotten as he stood frozen by the dying light of the fireplace. They shared a quick glance, a sickening realization dawning on them at the same time.

That rustling…it sounded an awful lot like feathers.

Quietly, Scar stepped away from the fireplace, grabbing up his rifle where he'd left it lying by the table. Grian knew he only had a few bullets left in it. Two, to be exact. The rest of the ammo was still stored away in their supplies, too much of a hassle to drag out now when that thing was just outside.

The rustling stopped after a moment. Scar kept his gaze focused solely on the door, even as he quickly pulled his rifle into place, bracing it against his right arm and clicking the safety off.

Grian remained still, frozen by the bedside. A soft scratching noise started, just a few feet from the door. His fingers twitched, desperate for some sort of weapon, but the hatchet was across the shack, and Grian still didn't have a replacement dagger yet.

Keeping low, Scar inched closer to the door, glancing behind him briefly to motion Grian to stay back.

Where else am I going to go? He wanted to snap, but he just held his tongue and nodded. Scar had the weapon, after all.

The rustling started again, the soft crunching of snow outside indicating footsteps. It was nearing the door, clearly sensing something inside. Grian held his breath, nails digging into his palms as his heart quickened in his chest.

Scar was eerily focused on the door, rifle held at the ready, prepared to shoot as soon as that thing tried to enter.

Outside, footsteps grew closer, a shadow appearing under the door where the moonlight filtered through the slit at the bottom. Grian felt sick, his limbs frozen in place, his gaze fixed entirely on the Watcher outside.

Scar tightened his hold on the rifle, finger brushing the trigger. His eyes narrowed in the dim light.

A soft scratching filled the air, like claws against wood, tapping quietly before finally, the door opened.

There, a humanoid figure filled the doorway, though it was crouched low, almost on all fours. Three pairs of black and white wings flared out, a loud snarl coming from the feathered creature as its numerous purple eyes fixed on them, tail lashing in the snow.

Scar's breath hitched, hesitating for a tenth of a second before pulling the trigger. The bullet shot true, embedding itself in the creature's heart just as it moved to lunge.

It fell to the ground, shrieking and growling in pain. Grian cringed back as it writhed, watching as black, inky blood pooled on the floor around its chest before it finally fell still.

For a moment, the only sound filling the shack was their unsteady breathing. The Watcher remained slumped against the floor, dead. The only sign of movement was the faint breeze filtering in through the door, stirring its black-and-white feathers.

Scar broke the silence then, breathing a long exhale and leaning back against the nearby wall, and letting the hilt of his rifle thump against the floor by his feet. He ran a hand through his hair, staring down at the cooling body of the Watcher before them. "Well, that was…something," he huffed with a small grin.

Grian sighed, straightening up. "We need to leave. This place isn't safe anymore; there could be more of those things out there." He glanced at Scar's rifle. "And the noise could attract more."

Scar's grin wavered slightly at that, but Grian ignored it for now. He knew he sounded harsh, shutting down Scar's attempt at humor to alleviate the sudden tension that had fallen over them. But now was not the time for that. He had to keep them alive.

Moving past Scar, Grian headed towards the table near the window, glancing out at the snowy night for a quick second before grabbing up their discarded backpacks from the floor. He glanced over his shoulder at Scar, tossing the man a bag. "Here," he called. "Start filling."

Scar caught it easily, stepping away from the Watcher's body as he moved towards the makeshift kitchen instead.

Grian turned away quickly, focusing his attention solely on the supplies laid out before him. It was all food, for the most part, along with a fire starter, an oil lamp, a first aid kit, and a nearly empty water canteen. He took a moment to light the oil lamp, setting it aside to provide a soft, flickering orange flame to see by as he began stuffing his pack full.

Behind him, he could hear Scar rummaging about as well, the soft clinks of ammunition boxes shifted around, and the noise of the icebox being opened and shut.

They worked in relative silence for the most part, the only sound being the distant wind outside. Grian had shut the door when the chill air made him shiver, glancing briefly out at the darkened lake shore and forest, though for now it was quiet.

Despite the relative calm that had seemingly fallen over the shack, Grian couldn't help but feel a sharp sense of dread building in his gut. Anticipation coiled tight in his chest, though for what exactly, he had no idea.

He purposefully ignored the dead Watcher's body lying just a few steps behind him, and the heavy scent of blood filling the air of the shack. His stomach twisted.

Though Grian was quickly ripped from his thoughts when something thumped onto the table beside him. He glanced up, finding Scar standing there, having dropped a folded-up fur blanket onto the table next to Grian's bag.

"Here," he said, nudging it towards him. "Stuff this in there, too."

Grian accepted it wordlessly, shifting a few items around to make room for the blanket. The backpack strained against the heavy load as he closed it, protesting against the added bulk.

Now with their supplies packed, they made quick work of tugging on their winter layers, pulling on gloves, and lacing up boots. Scar slung his bag and rifle over his shoulder as Grian tugged on his coat and grabbed the backpack.

Just as he was reaching for the oil lamp on the table, Grian frowned as he noticed Scar stiffening. The man was looking out the window, his eyes wide in the orange firelight. "Scar?"

"Turn the light off," Scar whispered hurriedly, motioning towards the lamp. "Something's out there."

Grian quickly flicked the flame off and peered out the window as well, his eyes widening when he saw the faint shape of something picking its way out of the snow-covered forest. His breath hitched. "We need to leave."

Scar nodded in agreement, his gloved fingers curling into a fist at his side. He glanced around the shack, eyes settling on the hatchet. "Take this," he said, stepping away to grab it up, offering the handle to Grian.

"Thanks," Grian breathed, taking the offered weapon in his hand, though he didn't loop it to his bag quite yet, instead tightening his hold on it in his hand.

Scar nodded again before motioning towards the door. "Come on. We can go around the back."

Letting Scar take the lead, Grian followed just a few steps behind him as the man carefully opened the door, stepping out into the thick, powdery snow. He winced as it crunched under their boots, though the figure was too occupied with something in the snow to pay much attention to them.

As they stepped outside, Grian could see the faint outline of feathered wings on the hunched-over figure. Definitely a Watcher, then. The creature stooped down on all fours, its back facing them as it pawed at the snow with its clawed talons.

Scar reached back, grabbing Grian's free hand with his own and pulling him along, moving around the side of the shack to keep out of sight. "Come on," he whispered, urging Grian to ignore the Watcher in the distance and keep moving.

Trying his best to soften his footsteps in the snow, Grian trailed after Scar, gripping his hand back as they rounded the side of the fishing shack, now hidden from view of the creature.

"Where are we going?" Grian questioned lowly, feeling like every little movement in the quiet night echoed around them like a gunshot.

Scar frowned, pausing in his steps. He glanced around, seemingly wondering the same question as Grian.

The Watcher was blocking their easy way into the forest, trapping them with the frozen lake at their back. While they could probably walk across it to the forest on the other side, they would be out in the open, easy prey for those winged creatures to pick off.

Though the open lake shore in front of them wasn't any better, either, they at least would be on solid ground there and closer to the cover of the forest.

He nudged Scar, now moving to take the lead. "We can follow the lakeshore," he whispered. "Once we're far enough from the Watcher, we can duck into the forest." He pointed up ahead, where the lakeshore thinned as the treeline dipped closer to the frozen waters.

Scar nodded, nudging him forward. "Stay low," he murmured.

Grian quickly led them away from the shack, keeping low to the ground and softening his steps in the snow as much as he could. Scar was right beside him, their hands still tightly interlocked between them, their shoulders brushing. He kept stealing glances over his shoulder towards the Watcher, which was moving further away from the treeline now, closer to the lake.

In the faint moonlight, he could see the creature's black-and-white wings, held loosely against its back, feathers ruffling in the breeze. Its spindly tail whipped through the air behind it, the sharp needle of the stinger glinting silver against the snow.

Grian shuddered as he saw it, knowing firsthand the type of pain those stingers could cause. The mark they left behind.

Scar tugged him along as they neared the trees, quickening their pace. They were only a few paces away from the forest. Just a few more steps, and they would be safely hidden in the cover of the undergrowth.

He gasped as Scar suddenly came to a halt, bumping into the man's shoulder as he froze as well. "Scar—?"

The question barely left his lips before he saw what Scar had seen.

A soft, flickering movement through the bushes up ahead. A twig breaking.

Grian's eyes widened as he saw a flash of purple through the snow-covered twigs of a bush, peering directly at him. A low snarl filled the air.

Scar took a staggering step back, his breath hitching, before he moved, tightening his hold on Grian's hand and spinning around on his heels.

Grian barely had time to breathe before they were running down the slope of the lakeshore they'd just come from, directly towards the frozen lake.

Behind them, the creature charged, bursting through the thick undergrowth in a spray of white snow and rushing after them, its purple eyes bright and wild in the darkness. It was surprisingly fast in the snow, flapping its wings for added momentum as it ran down the slope after them.

Grian stumbled as they reached the lake's edge, but Scar didn't slow, pulling him along. He tightened his grip on the hatchet, still clutched in his hand, but he didn't risk a glance back at the creature as they neared the ice.

He yelped, faltering as Scar's hand was ripped from his. Spinning around, his eyes widened as he saw the creature tackling Scar, its clawed talons digging into his shoulders as it pulled him down onto his stomach in the snow. Its tail lashed behind it, stinger poised and ready to strike.

"Scar!" His breath hitched, feet moving before his mind even realized what he was doing. Running up behind the Watcher, Grian's other hand found its way to the hilt of the hatchet. He gripped it tight, swinging it up in a wide arch before bringing the blade down directly onto the creature's back, just between its wings.

The Watcher shrieked in pain, yelping and stumbling off Scar. Grian ripped his hatchet back just in time as he was knocked off his feet by its wildly flapping wings. It writhed on the ground, black blood bubbling along the deep gash in its back, hissing in pain.

Grian scrambled to his feet, grabbing his hatchet up again before hauling Scar up as well, gripping the man's hand tight as they sprinted down towards the lake.

Distantly, Grian could hear the sound of wingbeats behind them, but he didn't look back. Their boots kicked up snow behind them as they reached the edge of the frozen lake, slowing just slightly, before stepping out onto the ice.

Scar's hand tightened its hold on Grian's as they ran onto the lake, their feet slipping and sliding against the slick surface as Scar took the lead, heading out towards the center of the lake. Grian held Scar tight, his other hand gripping the man's arm, struggling to keep his balance.

The Watcher on the lake shore snarled behind them. Grian risked a glance back, his breath stuttering as he saw it staggering to its feet. Its wings flared out unsteadily, black blood dripping from the gash in its back. It took shuddering steps forward before leaping out onto the ice after them, its talons scratching against the surface.

"Scar—" Grian started, but his words caught in his chest when the sound of approaching wingbeats grew louder.

His eyes snapped up, just barely able to make out the figure of a Watcher circling them from overhead, wings illuminated by the silver moonlight. Probably the one from the forest, drawn in by the sounds of the other Watcher attacking.

"Come on," Scar urged, boots stumbling slightly as they slipped on the ice, urging them to go faster despite the slick surface. "We can lose them in the forest. We just have to get there first."

Looking ahead, Grian could see the distant treeline, just a few feet back from the lake shoreline. But they still had a whole lake to cross to get to it, and the Watcher overhead already had a good start above them.

"It's going to cut us off," Grian pointed out, eyes fixed on the figure overhead as it soared above them, before diving lower.

Scar cursed softly under his breath. Grian caught his eyes darting back to the injured Watcher still pursuing them on foot, talons skidding against the ice surface as it ran after them, gaining with each step. He tightened his hold on Grian's wrist, but skidded to a stop as the Watcher overhead suddenly dove down onto the ice, landing heavily, feathers bristling out as it snarled at them.

The creature behind them growled, circling to Grian's side. Grian eyed them both, his grip on the hatchet handle tight, the wood creaking under his fingers.

Scar slung his rifle from his shoulder, though Grian doubted it would do him any good, with the close proximity and the fact that there was only one bullet in the chamber. Still, he pressed it back against his shoulder, lining it up with the Watcher in front of them.

Though before he could get a clear shot, the creature lunged forward.

Shoving Scar back, Grian ducked forward, swinging the blade of his hatchet up into the creature's chest. He winced as its talons caught the side of his cheek, ripping a shallow scratch through the flesh. Blood welled along the cut, stinging the chill air.

He staggered back, nearly dropping the hatchet as the Watcher ripped itself back with a snarl, skidding back along the ice. A fresh wound had opened near its shoulder, steadily dripping black blood onto the snow-covered ice.

Grian breathed heavily, his wide eyes fixed on the Watcher as it stumbled back a step before quickly recovering. It growled, multiple purple eyes snapping open in rage as it glared at him, before lunging forward.

He gasped, trying to step back, but his feet slipped on the ice. He raised the hatchet just as he fell back, grunting as his shoulders hit the firm ice beneath him. Grian gripped the hatchet handle in both hands, straining to keep the creature's snapping teeth from his face as it loomed over him. Its claws pricked his arms through his coat, not quite enough to break skin, but Grian knew that thing could easily rip through him if it wanted to.

Its tail lashed out, stinger whipping back and forth, but it didn't strike yet. Grian winced as it snapped its teeth towards his face again, pressing in against the wooden handle, which was creaking under the strain.

He grit his teeth, risking a short glance back to where Scar was, only to find the other entirely occupied by the injured Watcher. He was using the butt of his rifle as a weapon, slamming it into the side of the creature's head when it tried to knock him down.

Grian focused back on the Watcher in front of him, realizing he was alone in this for now. It snapped again, the wood cracking slightly. It was going to break soon if he didn't do something.

Kicking out with his legs, Grian tried to knock the creature off him. It growled, pausing in its attacks, but only for a short moment. Its claws dug in tighter, pricking flesh.

He tried again, his boot connecting with the Watcher's back leg. It stumbled just enough, grip slacking as its leg was kicked from underneath it.

Grian moved then, shoving back against it with his hatchet and scrambling out from under it. He kicked at it again, knocking it back into the snow, giving him enough time to stumble to his feet again, struggling to lift himself on the slick ice.

Behind him, he heard a sharp gunshot, a bullet flying past his shoulder and hitting the Watcher's chest as it straightened up. It shrieked in pain, falling back to the snow as blood began to flow from the new wound, hissing and writhing in pain.

Grian stumbled back, turning to see Scar standing just a few feet away, rifle in hand. Behind him, the injured Watcher was slumped to the ground, passed out as black blood trickled from a wound on its head.

Though, despite the gunshot wound, the other Watcher didn't stay down for long. It pushed itself back up, multiple wings flared wide, and feathers bristled.

His breath hitched, glancing back at Scar momentarily. The man was quickly reloading the gun, eyes wide and fixed on the Watcher as he worked.

"Shot," Scar muttered.

Grian turned as he heard the panic in the man's voice, his green eyes lifting to fix on Grian. "What?" Grian hissed.

Scar's hands tightened around the rifle. "It's empty."

Grian's breath hitched, eyes darting back towards the Watcher just as it barreled towards him, wings spread wide and multiple eyes fixed on him.

Scar moved then, spinning the rifle around in his hands and slamming the butt of the gun into the thing's head. It yelped, falling to the ice and whipping around, nearly catching Grian with its tail as it turned its attention to Scar, snapping its teeth.

Pulling the gun back, Scar hit it again and again, its head striking against the ice as it struggled to scramble away from him, its movements steadily weakening as blood trickled from its head.

After a moment, it fell limp to the ground, the numerous eyes dotting its body falling shut.

Scar took a shaky breath, stepping back as it was knocked unconscious. Its wings slumped to the ground, lying in a feathery heap along its back as the blood leaking from its head stained the snow grey.

Behind them, the other Watcher was stirring, wings twitching in the snow as it blinked its eyes open.

Grian tensed as he saw it move, grabbing Scar's hand and tugging him forward. "Come on," he urged, boots skidding on the ice as he turned towards the forest on the other edge of the shore.

Scar slung his rifle back over his shoulder, letting Grian lead him across the frozen lake, stumbling over the slick surface.

Though they didn't make it far.

The Watcher had scrambled back up to its feet, shrieking in anger as it gave chase, its talons scrambling for purchase on the ice, curling into the cold surface and leaving behind deep scratches along the surface as it surged forward.

Grian tightened his hold on Scar's hand, forcing them to run faster, even as the slippery ice worked against them, slowing their steps and nearly causing him to fall.

Scar stumbled against him as the creature lunged forward, knocking into his legs. He gasped, struggling to steady himself and keep his balance while simultaneously kicking out at the Watcher.

Grian spun around, still gripping Scar's hand tight and pulling him closer, away from the Watcher as it snapped at his leg. Scar staggered against him, his breath hitching. He grabbed at Grian's arm for balance, even as Grian shoved him back.

"Move," Grian hissed, pushing Scar back as the Watcher rose to its feet, uncaring of how harsh his tone sounded. Releasing the other's hand, he gripped his hatchet tightly in his palms, raising it up high in a steep arch before caving it back down in front of the Watcher.

The creature shrieked as the blade caught its talons, slicing through with a spray of black blood. It stumbled back, wings flared and tail lashing, snarling in anger.

Grian gasped as he felt the black blood splatter his cheek, grimacing and pulling the blade of the hatchet back out of the ice. He tensed as a sharp crack came from beneath him, a sudden, deep crack appearing across the frozen surface and smaller fractures spiderwebbing off it.

He stumbled back a step, breath catching in his throat as he felt the ice shift under him. Though the Watcher clearly didn't care, lunging forward again and slamming into him, taking advantage of his momentary distraction.

He gasped as he felt the Watcher knocking him back, his head spinning as it thudded against the ice, stars dancing across his vision. Another crack sounded under him, the ice breaking beneath him, not quite split through entirely, but as he felt the Watcher pressing him further against the ice, he could feel it straining under the weight.

His heart jumped to his throat, blood pulsing in his ears, loud enough to drown out the sound of Scar shouting at him from further away, and the Watcher snarling down at him as it loomed over him. He quickly pressed an arm to the Watcher's neck, keeping its snapping jaws from his face, wincing as he felt its breath fanning over him in the cool air.

Hands scrabbling for his hatchet, Grian managed to locate it from where it had fallen beside him. Twisting under the Watcher, he pulled it closer, wrenching his arm out and grabbing the handle in both hands, before turning and slamming it into the creature's shoulder.

Its teeth grazed his arm as he moved, yelping as it tumbled off of him from the force of the hit. The blade cut through its flesh, spilling more black blood across the white snow and onto the cracked pieces of ice.

Grian pushed himself to sit up, but froze again as the ice splintered more.

Before him, the Watcher scrambled to its feet, the cracks spreading like shattered glass beneath its thrashing weight, then suddenly, it broke.

With a sharp cry, the Watcher fell through, splashing into the cold water beneath with flailing limbs. It shrieked again, the water rushing over its head as it struggled, wings flapping fruitlessly as the feathers only weighed it down.

The hatchet clattered to the ice, sending more cracks splintering outward. Grian remained frozen as the ice under him broke apart, straining under the pressure and weakened by the newly shattered hole.

He didn't dare move, his breath catching in his throat as he felt the ice split and creak under him, threatening to give way with just the slightest movement.

In front of him, the Watcher continued to splash and struggle in the frigid waters, talons scratching at the ice, but it just kept breaking apart under its claws. Unable to free itself, the Watcher flailed in the water, its movements quickly growing weaker as the water weighed it down by the wings, fighting to keep its head above water, choking and gurgling. Eventually, it vanished beneath the dark water, dragged down by its weight, leaving only a trail of ripples.

Grian watched it disappear under the surface with wide eyes, his breath coming in sharp pants, white air billowing around his face. His head was still aching from when the creature had tackled him, leaving him feeling slightly dazed.

The ice was still cracking under him, jolting him with each split through the frozen surface. He didn't dare move, even as he heard Scar calling his name behind him, terrified of falling through.

"Grian—" Scar started, the sound of his footsteps enough to break through the shock radiating through him.

He whipped his head around before tensing again as the ice shifted under him. "Don't—don't come closer," he warned quickly, looking to where Scar's boots had stopped just shy of the splintering cracks.

Scar gazed back at him helplessly, looking to Grian, to the hole in the ice, and to the crumbled form of the Watcher nearby, before focusing on Grian again. "G—come on. You've got to get off—"

Grian breathed a short breath. "I'm trying," he bit out, before wincing as he heard his sharp tone. "It'll break if I move."

Scar muttered something under his breath, glancing around as if he could magically find something to help Grian from his predicament. Though the snowy landscape was barren, and even if he did find something, Grian wasn't sure how helpful it might be.

His hands shook as he curled them into fists, trying to hide the rising fear in his chest. If he fell through, there was no getting out. The ice was too slick and fragile to pull himself back onto. Not to mention his clothing weighing him down once it got wet, making it impossibly harder to swim back up to the surface if he was dragged down.

He was practically stuck here, and he knew Scar had no way of reaching him. The cracks had spiderwebbed out in every direction. If he tried to reach Grian, the ice would surely break under both their weights.

"Grian," Scar called again, breaking Grian from his panicked thoughts. "You've got to try—"

"How?" Grian snapped, his heart racing in his chest. Was this how he died? Falling through the ice? Freezing water dragging him under as he fought to stay above it? What would kill him first, the cold or drowning?

Scar took a deep breath, shifting himself so he was settled on his knees, carefully half-stretched out in Grian's direction, extending an arm. "Spread your weight, like this," he instructed, somehow remaining calm even though Grian felt like a vice was crushing his lungs. "Go slow."

Grian clenched his jaw, his limbs feeling rooted to the spot. A cold fear had settled heavily in his chest, but he knew Scar was right. He had to try. If he stayed here any longer, he would surely break through completely.

Scar gazed back at him expectantly, keeping his arm reaching out for Grian. He had a look of certainty, as if he fully anticipated Grian making it to the shore just fine.

Something about that certainty was what had Grian finally moving, carefully and ever so slowly, he shifted to his knees just as Scar was, struggling to spread his weight evenly as he felt the ice breaking further under him. He pointedly didn't look at the cracks, instead keeping his gaze focused solely on Scar.

He carefully inched his way forward, freezing every few seconds as he felt the frozen lake shuddering under him, more splits appearing across its cracked surface and running deeper with each second. His breath caught in his throat, heart pounding in his ears, but he forced himself to go slow and keep moving.

A sharp flinch forced him to stop short as the ice creaked under him, straining under his weight. Fear clawed its way up his spine, his limbs freezing in place, unable to force himself to move forward. "It—it's going to break—"

"Grian, breathe," Scar interrupted him, inching just a bit closer, straining his hand towards Grian even as the ice creaked under him, too.

Grian's breath hitched. "Scar—back up—"

"G, come on," Scar urged, ignoring Grian's worries. "You've got to keep moving."

The ice shuddered under him again. He winced as another crack shook the frozen surface.

He winced, gloved fingers gripping at the ice under him as if they could forcibly hold it together with sheer will. "I—I can't—"

"Yes, you can," Scar urged, cutting him off. "Go slow. Grab my hand."

Grian grit his teeth, another creak sending a spark of panic through him, enough to get him moving again. He inched forward slowly, hardly daring to breathe as the ice shook under him, cracks spiderwebbing out under his hands. He didn't dare look down, keeping his gaze focused solely on Scar.

His hand reached towards Scar's outstretched fingers, heart in his throat as the ice shuddered again. A sharp crack sounded, the ice splintering under him with a sudden splash. He yelped, falling forward, his hand submerging into the icy cold water.

A hand wrapped around his other wrist, yanking him forward harshly. Grian gasped as he was pulled clear of the breaking ice, colliding into a warm, solid body as two hands gripped him tight against a chest, dragging him back across the frozen lake.

He grabbed at Scar's coat with shaky fingers as the other man held him close, arms wrapped around his trembling body. Scar scooted back, away from the fragile ice and closer towards the shore, chin pressed against the top of Grian's head as sharp pants escaped him in a cloud of white, billowing around Grian's head in the chill air.

Grian curled against Scar, shaking from a mix of fear and cold as he struggled to steady his breath, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. He shivered as the warmth of Scar's body pressed against his, breath coming in short gasps.

"That—" Scar finally wheezed out. "Was awful," he laughed, tilting his head back while still holding Grian close.

Grian just huffed, feeling some of the lingering panic coiled in his chest easing at Scar's words. "Right," he agreed, his eyes lingering on the broken ice before him, chunks of white floating in the dark water. He frowned, resting his head back against Scar's shoulder miserably. "I lost my weapon again," he muttered.

Scar chuckled against him, the sound vibrating against Grian's side. "Pretty bad track record, G."

Grian just rolled his eyes fondly, his breathing finally settling into something close to usual. He shuddered again as a wave of cold hit him, glancing down at his hand where it was pressed against Scar's coat. The glove was soaked through, dripping small droplets onto his wrist.

Scar took notice as well, moving to cup Grian's soaked hand in his own. He frowned before glancing behind him. "Come on, let's get to the shore."

Grian nodded in response, letting Scar help to pull him to his feet, leaning in against the man's side as his legs were still shaky from leftover adrenaline. He held his freezing hand close to his chest, curling the fingers in only to find they'd already gone numb.

Scar led them up to the shore, not commenting on how Grian was still pressed close to his side and shaking, which Grian was thankful for. Despite having just woken up, Grian felt just about ready to pass out from exhaustion again.

But he couldn't do that. Not yet. Not here.

No, their first priority had to be getting away from here, as soon as possible. The noise of the struggle could have alerted more Watchers or other survivors. They couldn't be caught out in the open like this, unprepared and weakened.

As they reached the shore, Scar stopped on the sloping bank, turning to grab at Grian's hand.

"What—"

"Here," Scar interrupted, moving to tug the sopping wet glove from Grian's hand, revealing the red and purple skin underneath, shivering and twitching as the cold air hit it.

Grian frowned as Scar removed a glove from his own hand, pressing it into Grian's shaking palm. "Scar, wait—"

"Gri, your hand is going to freeze over if you don't put it on," Scar chided, nudging him encouragingly. "I'll be fine, coat's got pockets for a reason."

Grian eyed him before scoffing. "Alright, fine then," he relented, tugging the glove on. The inside was soft, the warmth of Scar's own hand lingering inside as Grian slipped his fingers into place, flexing them to try to get feeling back into the tips. The glove was clearly too big for his hand, with the fingers not quite touching the ends, and the wrist a bit looser than Grian would have liked, but it worked.

Scar grinned. "See? Perfect fit!"

Grian simply rolled his eyes in response, reaching up to flick the other man's forehead before easily moving to grab his hand. "Come on, we need to get out of here."

"Oh, right, right, of course!" Scar chirped, stumbling along behind Grian as the other tugged him forwards, towards the trees.

Grian gave him a soft smile over the shoulder before fixing his attention on leading them on, swallowing back against the lingering uneasiness in his gut from the entire night.

He's fine. Grian squeezed Scar's hand between his fingers. He's alive.

They wandered through the forest for most of the night, the moon slowly tracing its path across the sky and dipping towards the horizon on the other side in the early hours of the morning.

Scar had pulled out the map he'd found the other day, the one with the strange markings and trails from the abandoned camp. Grian had looked over it once or twice, mostly to ensure they were following it correctly, but otherwise let Scar take the lead this time. He was fairly good at navigating the map, despite his tendency to wander and lose focus every once in a while, though Grian could usually pull him back in if he got too far.

Despite the tension earlier, Grian found their nightly walk through the trees rather soothing, with easily shared banter about their location on the map or the comfortable silence broken only by their soft breaths and crunching footsteps in the snow.

Though there was a lingering presence at the back of Grian's mind even as they walked away from the lake, leaving the cabin and the dead Watcher bodies behind. A nagging sense that made the skin on the back of his neck rise, a subtle tension in between his shoulder blades when the quiet got too loud, and Grian realized how isolated they were out here, in the heavily fallen snow and cold air.

He couldn't help but glance around every few minutes when Scar wasn't looking, a creeping sensation of being watched settling heavily in his chest. But the forest was empty, with nothing but them and the lightly drifting flakes of snow falling from the air.

The jagged scar along the small of his back seemed to burn as his tension grew, despite his eyes finding nothing in the darkness. Prickling like tiny needles stabbing into the skin, begging for his attention, though why, Grian had no idea.

"You're tense," A voice commented behind him, startling Grian from his thoughts.

He looked up to see Scar moving to walk beside him, map tucked away for now as they made their way through the snowy forest.

"Something on your mind?" Scar questioned, tilting his head inquisitively.

Grian huffed, trying to brush off his worry. "How do you always know when I'm thinking?"

Scar just grinned before pressing a finger between Grian's brows, forcing the muscles to relax. "Because your brow furrows," he explained simply. "You're kind of a loud thinker."

Grian blinked, not even realizing he'd been giving away his thoughts so easily. He sighed, forcing his body to relax, some of the tension leaking out of his shoulders as the stabbing sensation in his back dimmed slightly. "I guess that explains it," he muttered.

"Whatcha thinking about?" Scar chirped, nudging his side.

"Just…tonight, I suppose," Grian murmured, glancing briefly down at his hand where Scar's glove still concealed it. It was certainly warmer now; the shivering had stopped an hour or so ago, and the feeling had returned as the stiffness leaked out of the bones. "I've got this…weird feeling."

Scar frowned. "Weird feeling, huh? Like what?"

Grian just shrugged, unsure of how to phrase it. "Just…like we're being followed. Watched. But there's nothing out here."

Scar tilted his head before suddenly stopping in his tracks and spinning around.

Grian froze as well, whipping around to see where Scar had stopped. "Scar?! What—"

Scar turned in a slow circle, making a show of surveying the surroundings, his hands resting on his hips, one gloved, one bare. He hummed. "Well, Gri, I don't see anything out here. Unless…"

He turned back towards Grian, who was frowning at him, struggling to calm his now racing heart as he scowled at Scar.

Scar grinned mischievously, taking a few slow steps towards Grian. "Unless…you think it's a Boogeyman?"

Grian scoffed, still frowning at him as he crossed his arms. "Those aren't real."

"Oh, yes, they are! They hide in the shadows, you know. Like—like shadow creatures. Stalking their victims, haunting their dreams. You won't know it until you see them—until you're dead!"

A tree branch full of snow suddenly gave way behind Grian, causing him to jump and spin around as the powdery white fell to the ground with a sudden thud.

Scar moved forward then, footsteps surprisingly silent against the snow as he grabbed Grian's shoulders, pulling the smaller man tight against his chest with a mock growl.

Grian couldn't help but yelp as Scar grabbed him, pushing against the man's arms before huffing, elbowing him in the stomach. "Jerk," he muttered.

Scar released him with a short grunt of surprise, stepping back in response to Grian's elbow hitting against his gut, snickering softly.

Grian just eyed him, crossing his arms again, though he was struggling to maintain an annoyed expression at the man, amusement quickly building inside him until he couldn't help but crack a smile, too.

Finally, he found himself laughing as well, stepping forward to shove at Scar's shoulder. "Don't scare me like that!" He chided lightheartedly, before huffing. "I should've just let that Watcher eat you."

Scar pouted then, reaching for Grian as the smaller man stepped back. "Oh, come on, G! You wouldn't do that," he whined.

Grian rolled his eyes, evading Scar's hands. "Oh, don't tempt me."

"You love me too much for that," Scar argued with a smug grin.

Grian felt his heart stutter in his chest at that, though he quickly hid it with a scoff. "You have no proof."

Scar's smile only widened at that, moving forward to drape his arms around Grian's shoulders, looping them around the front as he pulled Grian back against his chest. "Oh, I think I have plenty of proof."

Grian's cheeks reddened at that, even as he found himself relaxing into Scar's arms. He caught himself after a moment, pulling the other's arms off of him and waving him off with a dismissive hand. "If you're talking about that bed, I only did it to save your stupid self from getting hypothermia. And I thought we agreed not to talk about it!" He yelped.

Scar just laughed, shaking his head. "Oh, fine. I guess we did."

As he spoke, Grian couldn't help but notice how Scar's cheeks seemed to redden as well under the faint moonlight. Whether it was from the cold or the embarrassment from bringing up that night again, Grian wasn't sure.

He decided not to linger on it.

"Come on," he called, waving Scar along. "We have got to find somewhere to set up a campfire. It's freezing out here."

Scar trailed along after him, moving to fall in step beside Grian. "It is cold," he agreed, wrapping his arms around himself and tucking his bare hand under his other arm to keep it warm.

He glanced at Grian after a short beat of silence, eyeing the smaller man for a moment before speaking. "You uh, you still have that feeling? Of being watched?"

"Oh—" Grian blinked, suddenly realizing that his tension had all but disappeared now. He'd almost forgotten about it, really. "No…it's gone."

Scar beamed at him, poking his side. "You're welcome," he chirped, before pushing forward to take the lead again.

Grian rolled his eyes, quickening his steps to follow after Scar. "Do you even know where you're going—?!"

"Nope!"

"You're heading north—we need to go west—"

"We'll get there eventually, G!"

"Not this way! Scar!"