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There is something to be said about the buseness of being a vigilante.
Surely there are lots of things to he said about it, lots of cool references he could make and puns to giggle about with Mumbo.
Therein lies the problem.
Grian has given up all pretense of good form. He runs though his legs want to collapse and his vision is blurred by the salty tears still streaming down his eyes. He licks his lips, blinks in any hope of vlearing his vision.
He can't reach up.
Both of his arms are wrapped around Mumbo's tall and heavy and increasingly limb body.
He's starting to get a stitch from the erratic breaths he takes — he can't stop. Sobs choke his breath and are choked in turn.
The plaster trips him. He crashes hard.
The stone is cool beneath his cheek, digging into it.
Grian doens't want to go on. His legs are tired and he is so exhausted.
But he has to! He has to! Mumbo will die! And what is Grian suppose dto do without him?
But what can he even do? What can Grian even to do help? He doesn't know first aid! He doens't have a clue where they even are.
And it's all his fault. If he didn't get it in his head that vigilante's were cool and a good idea and that ceime dighting would go over super well and if he had just listened to Mumbo's stammering worries tha tit was a bad idea!
But Mumbo has stammering worires about going to the grocery story! Of course Grian didn't take him serious.
But he should have! Mumbo was right.
And now they lie on the ground of a stupid alleyway in a stupid city somewhere stupid and all because Grian was stupid enough to do illegal crime-fighting.
And now the ycan't go to a hospital becaus eit's illegal and Grian doens't know where one is and it's all wrong. It wasn't supposed to be like this.
Tears run down his face. Snuffling, he turns his head to face Mumbo.
"Mumbo?", he whispers, "Mumbo? Please wake up?"
It's awful.
Grian feels his face scrunch up, his bottom lip wobbling as another wave of tears overcomes him.
He crawls towards Mumbo's still form.
Unconcious. He can't be dead.
He's just unconcious.
He presses himself close to Mumbo's side, shoving himself underneith Mumbo's left arm. Mumbo let's him, his arm is— is— is a cooked spaghetti, a happy cat, a wet rag or— or kneaded eraser whed you pull it out to far.
And Mumbo isn't moving. Which is all wrong, because Mumbo is always moving and he isn't answering, except he always answers when Grian needs him.
Why did it have to happen to them? Why did the villains kidnap them of all people? And why and why and why ever in all of his stupid, stupid, horrible decisons did Grian decide to become a vigilante?
And they didn't even play enough to make real costumes and even that the villains took away they didn't think about codenames and why didn't Grian think this through?
And now Mumbo is going to die and Grian can't do anything about it, because he isn't strong enough or smart enough or good enough at making Mumbo not-hurt. And maybe Grian will die too, or go to prison or be kidnapped again and experimented on.
He wishes Mumbo was awake. Mumbo wouldn't know what ot do either, but if Mumbo is there, everything is better.
"Mumbo?", Grian begs again, "Mumbo, wake up! Mumbo?"
He reaches out to punch him, but only lightly taps the side of his cheek, before his arm collapsed in on itself. Grian wraps himself around Mumbo's limb body, and cries.
Cries his heart out and out and into the torn material of Mumbo's suit that was alway so silly and stupidly well-dressed and why can't Mumbo be awake so Grina can tease him about it?
"Please", he whimpers into Mumbo's chest.
The voice that answers isn't Mumbo's.
"Who's there?", someone asks.
Grian freezes. His muscles tense up, wings folded tightly. Except his stupid mouth hasn't gotten the message.
He hiccups.
Crunching.
Grian scrambles to stand up. He can't let the villains reach Mumbo. He can't. No matter what happens, Grina has to protect Mumbo. It's all his fault, now he has to fix it.
He trembles where he stands. He didn't stand a chance with a weapon and with Mumbo and when he knew where he was. Can he even win if he's alone and unarmed and lost?
But it doesn't matter if Grian can win, he simply he has to.
He breathes in and squares his chest. His wings stretch out to make himself larger nad cover Mumbo from view. He can't let them reach Mumbo.
No matter what.
A person appears around the corner, only in silhouette.
They sit in a wheelchair, but tha tcould be bait.
Villains can do anything. They're evil.
"Are you okay?", the person asks. A boy. He doesn't sound much older than Grian.
But it's villains, Grian reminds himself, it could be villains, and villains are evil. They try and trick you. He has to be careful.
He widens his stnace and lifts the fists he didn't notice dropping. He has to be prepared for anything.
"Is that—", the perosn stutters, then screeches, "is that a body behind you?! Did you murder someone!?"
Villains. Be prepared. But the boy sounds so genuine. And Mumbo needs help.
And— and maybe this boy knows where a hospital is? If Mumbo survives, Hrian doens't mind gking to prison. Or, he does mind, really, minds a bunch, but he minds Numbo dying more. So much more.
"He needs help", Grian finds himself saying, stumbling away and into a wall, as the boy in the wheelchair approaches.
It feels wrong to let a stranger so close, so clsoe he obscures Geian's view of Mumbo's slack and bloody face.
He flutters anxiously, then rushes forward again and drops beside Mumbo. He can't. He can't let that boy this close. He can't.
But he has to.
"What happened?", the boy asks.
And Grian starts crying again.
"I was all stupid and— and you can turn me in. Just help him. Please!"
He clutches Mumbo's hand with both of his own.
"Wha— why would I turn you in", the boy asks, "turn you in to who? And who are you even? And why are you crying?"
" 'Cause— 'cause I was dumb and Mumbo didn't even want to and— and it's all my fault", sobs cut of his words as he continues through the tears, "and now he's going to die. Because of me!"
"Hey, hey", the boy says, "I'm Scar, okay? And it's going to be allright, okay? So you friend is Mumbo? And who are you?"
The boy offers Grian a hand, who takes it hesitantly. "Grian."
"Okay", Scar says, "I'm going to call an ambulance now, okay? And you can tell me what happened."
Grian nods and wipes away the tears with one hand, the other stays in Mumbo's.
"Okay."