Work Text:
It's a secret I keep tucked inside my chest
With this heart of mine thats guilty not remorseful
There is love that doesn't have a place to rest
But it would have buried you if it had settled on your shoulder
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"Hey, I made some soup"
Scar turns up next to Grian with a bowl of soup, gloves still on and one of them partially burnt.
Grian takes off his glasses and puts them down on the table, next to the redstone piece he's been working on. He's been sitting there for at least three hours to no use, and as much as he'd like to ask Etho for help, his pride is bigger than his urgency.
"Why do you wear gloves to make soup?" he cocks an eyebrow at him and Scar shrugs.
"You'd be surprised" he hands him the bowl, but when Grian tries to take it, he hisses and hands it back to Scar, who gladly takes it with a smug expression "If only you had a pair of gloves to prevent that"
Grian gives him a sharp look, though a smile creeps past his lips. Scar puts the bowl down on the table and stands closer to Grian to have a better look of the scrambled pieces of redstone "That looks messy"
"It is" Grian scoffs and takes one of the pieces to inspect it "It's supposed to be the detonator for a trap I’m making"
'Supposed to' is the key word there, right now it looks like a bunch of cables and stone with red smudges littering the table. With a sigh, he considers if Impulse will make less fun of him for asking for redstone advice than Etho, but then again. Pride.
"I’m sure you'll get there, you're good at these things"
That's not a lie, Grian is usually better at traps than this. He's no redstoner, but he knows his way around anything that can lead him to a good use of tnt. However, these past days he's been lacking the concentration, or the mental capacity for that matter.
Grian hasn't been able to sleep. He's lost count on how long he's been awake for; he's lost count on time in general. If it wasn't for Scar taking care of the meals, he probably wouldn't be eating either.
"I’m not on my A game" he rubs his eye and picks up the spoon to stir the soup lazily.
"Maybe you should take a nap" Scar offers, and Grian gives him a short laugh.
"If I could, I definitely would"
With Scar right beside him, he feels the obligation to drink the soup he so kindly made, so he takes a spoonful. It's good. Scar is a great cook if you put aside the few times he's lit the kitchen on fire.
“Maybe I could sing you a lullaby" Scar grins and crouches so he's at the same height level as Grian “I have a great singing voice, you know?"
"Yeah, truly beautiful" he manages to smile and shake his head “I remember you used to sing whenever we-"
He cuts himself off.
That wasn’t wise of him. It's really not good to talk too much when you're sleep-deprived. Things slip off, and Grian has too many things that could slip off. Even with more ease when he's with Scar.
"You've heard me sing before?" it's not as jokey as it is an actual question, which Grian winces at.
Grian can't answer, because Scar doesn't know.
Scar doesn't remember Dogwarts. He doesn't remember the traps, the adrenaline rush, their glory chants when they walked back home after a kill. He doesn't remember singing mindless battle cries to the top of his lungs while running away from yet another explosion, with Grian by his side. Always by his side.
Scar doesn't remember. Grian remembers though, how could he forget when every night there's a new nightmare to make him relive it.
"Oh nothing, I was thinking of Joel" he dismisses with his hand "He was singing the other day, put on quite a show"
And his heart twitches against his chest. Lying is easy for Grian, lying to Scar, however, never is.
Not because Scar ever calls his bluff, but because part of Grian wishes he would. It's selfish, but god if only someone else remembered maybe he wouldn't feel as lonely in his own head. Knowledge weights heavier when you're the only person carrying it. Grian no longer learns, he just sinks.
"Oh really?" Scar giggles "I wish I was there, I’d never let him hear the end of it"
Grian drinks more of his soup, stares down at it and tries not to think about Scar's bright laughter in between his makeshift songs. He tries to not think of the distorted version of that laughter ringing in between bloody coughs.
"Are you alright, Grian?"
That gets him to snap back to reality. He looks at Scar and he's staring at him with worried, trusting eyes. That's not fair.
These eyes shine and all Grian can think of is the time he watched them dim down into emptiness. This is not fair.
"I’m fine" he gets up abruptly "The soup was great. I have to go get some resources now"
He doesn't know when it got so dark outside, but he makes sure to take his jacket on his way out. He swiftly organizes his inventory and walks past Scar towards the door. His heart stops when their arms touch, it burns.
"I’ll be back in a few hours, call you if anything happens"
Once he's at the door, he takes the handle and dares to look back at Scar. He's still kneeling by the desk, turned so Grian can't quite see his face. He stands up and nods in response.
"Be safe"
It sounds sad, resigned. Grian gulps and it scrapes his throat. He opens the door and steps out into the cold, breezy night. The door shuts behind him and all of a sudden he’s alone again.
Nothing changes, and it shouldn't. Grian can't take the liberty to get too close, he's learned this by now. Not to anyone, especially not to Scar. It's naive to think otherwise, it's futile to try. Worthless, pointless, a lost case, just give up.
He goes down a cave and mines until the next morning.
When he returns, he finds the soup cold, still sitting on the desk like the time was frozen there. He hasn’t eaten all night, though his stomach doesn't hurt. Scar must’ve been eating for them.
Grian goes to their chests and puts away what he found. Some diamonds, a lot of iron and coal, and more importantly, redstone. Lots of it, more than he needs. He did not stop mining even when his inventory was full, nor when his hands were bruising from the cold and the friction.
It's early in the morning and the grey clouds announce incoming rain. He doesn't want to wake up Scar in the next room, but his fishing rod is there, and he’s been meaning to fish for an enchanted book.
Getting better tools is hard without villagers, and since it’s common knowledge to fish under the rain for better drops, he’s sure everyone will try the same. It’s better to not stay behind, a single Sharpness III could make the difference in a battle.
It's fine. From what he remembers, Scar is a heavy sleeper. Grian used to work early in the morning while Scar slept, back in Monopoly Mountain. Scar would wake up much later, or in defect, Grian would wake him up if it got too late. He accomplished that task most times, other times Scar just pulled him back into bed and from that point there was no way he was getting out of his grip.
To be fair, he rarely tried.
That won't happen now though. They aren't back there and as sweet as all of this sounds, Grian shouldn't be thinking back on every single moment between him and the man he murdered. Sounds easier than it is.
He gives up and goes to Scar's room. They used to share a room, but Grian moved so they could have more space. That's at least what he said.
He didn't mention the horror that was waking up in the night in a cold sweat and seeing Scar laying still with his eyes closed. It really messed with his brain.
From nightmare to reality there should be a barrier, Grian thinks at some point he turned into that barrier.
When he opens the door, he expects Scar to be fast asleep in his bed. But to Grian’s luck, he is laying there staring quietly at the ceiling. His eyes move to Grian when he hears the door and then there's complete silence.
Grian doesn't like this. He wants his friend back, he wants to go to Scar and lay down with him, tell him about his mining trip and share ideas on funny ways to kill Jimmy. Tell him things, real things, offer more than push and release.
Instead, he stands under a distant door frame and searches in Scar's eyes for something he shouldn't want to find. Scar looks right back, and everything is so difficult.
"How'd your mining go?" Scar is the first to speak, like he usually is. Grian is very thankful for that.
“I got a few diamonds" he's quick to look away and start scanning the room for the fishing rod.
Scar hums. He's on top of the covers, Grian thinks he probably laid in bed last night and just stayed there until now. By the bags under his eyes, he could infer he didn’t get any sleep either.
"Did you want anything?" he asks, his voice a combination of lost and carefully tame. Grian can't quite put his finger on it.
"I’m looking for my fishing rod, I left it here the other day. Thought it might be a good day to go fishing"
Scar sits up and leans against the bed frame, looking around the room. He then points over at a corner and there it lays over a chest. Perfect. Grian enters the room carefully and goes to grab it. It's quite worn out, he might even have to make a new one.
"Have fun fishing"
Grian looks up at Scar. He's not angry, not sad, not happy, he looks curious. He watches Grian like he's a riddle, careful around his edges and thoughtful with his presence. Everything is calculated, like Grian could snap if he moves the wrong way. That's a low blow.
He stays there. Leaving feels wrong, though staying is just going to cause trouble.
"Did you sleep?" he asks conversationally, and Scar gives him a small grin.
"If I could, I definitely would"
Grian’s heart somehow feels lighter, Scar is good at that.
"We should probably knock each other out," he says "That'd get us a good night's sleep"
Scar laughs and it tickles Grian.
"Oh, I’m so down for that. Let's get on a ring dude, see who wins"
Sand. Blood. I’m so sorry. The sun is in Grian’s eyes, how did it get there?
"Grian?"
He's here. Not there, not like that, he's here and this scar is alive and worried.
"Yeah?"
"Are you okay?"
Grian nods vigorously "Yeah, of course" his voice goes up an octave and he curses himself for it "Why do you ask?"
Scar looks down at his hands and Grian follows his gaze. The fishing rod is broken in two and his knuckles are white around it.
He loosens his grip "Shit" he mumbles as he puts down the pieces of his fishing rod. That was stupid.
"Come here" Scar offers a place next to him on the bed and Grian feels stupid for wanting to run away.
He walks over and sits on the edge of the bed anyway. Nothing feels correct.
"Breathe” it’s a simple petition and only then Grian notices he's been holding his breath and that his heart is currently going so quick it might as well be buzzing. That’s probably why Scar sounds out of breath, so he attempts to calm down and not be the inconvenient soulmate he is.
It's silly, he feels silly sitting there with Scar because he doesn't deserve this. None of this. He shouldn't be here with his heart beating along with Scar's, that is so stupid. Cruel irony, The Watchers must be having a blast because they just put the fox and the bird in the same cage.
"You feeling better?" Scar's voice is soft, and that only makes Grian want to leave more.
"Yeah, I’m fine"
Scar looks down at his hands. They're shaking "Let me see"
Grian puts them up for him wordlessly. There are a few splinters and some blood. It's not much, most of it from his mining trip but the wood did leave a small cut across his palm along with some smaller ones scattered from the splinters. Nothing big, he can take care of it later.
Still, Scar takes them in his own and carefully cleans off the splinters, meticulously plucking them out with careful touches so as to not brush against Grian’s wounds.
The heat of his hands, and the rhythm of his breath, all a reminder that this is another time. It's different and Grian really needs to belive that.
There's rain pouring outside, the light coming from the window is dim and it plays around the drops sliding down the glass. Scar moves Grian’s hands closer to him and his fingers wrap loosely around his wrist. He's warm, everything about him is warm. The bed, his hands, his heart.
This is not fair.
"There" then it's suddenly over and he lets go of his hands "You should wash the blood off"
"Right" Grian nods and rubs the blood off his hands. He hates it, it looks awful.
"Now" Scar says, and Grian tenses because he knows what's coming "Will you tell me what's up? Or do I have to keep playing dumb?"
That's right, you're alone. Remember that. No one knows and no one has to.
But then again, his hands are still shaking and his heart is speeding, there's blood in his hands, dirty, ugly blood, and he just broke a fishing rod out of all things. How much can he pretend?
However, this burden is for Grian and Grian only, he shouldn't and won't pass it to anyone else. He would rather stay alone inside of a lie for the rest of his life than for Scar to know what happened then, what happens next.
What's the next move then?
He looks at Scar. Looking is something Grian knows to do well, and he sees so much.
There is so much, Grian sees it all because if anything in the world, he knows Scar. Everything about him is engraved in his memory, engraved in his life. The flowers in his chest blossom, the crystal he carries around his neck burns, Scar is so much more than anything Grian wishes he was.
"We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, but I just want to know if there's something I can help with" Scar says and it's almost a whisper "You know, you don't have to deal with everything alone"
This is not fair.
"I wouldn't know where to start" Grian scoffs, bitter and tasteless.
Scar hums "How about I ask you something? Then you'll choose if you want to answer me or not"
Dangerous game, but then again Grian feels like he's breathing for the first time in a while.
"Okay" He whispers, Scar sits up. His thigh touches Grian's and he thinks it might be intentional, it's enough to ground him.
"Let's see" his expression turns serious, not in a scary way. More like this matters, more like he cares, all his attention on Grian "How about, is there a reason you're not sleeping?"
It's hard to be so open for someone who's more walls than body, more brick than skin. This doesn't happen, these little windows don't happen. But still, it wouldn't be the first time he made an exception for Scar.
"I'm-" he thinks for a second. Words, where are his words. Scar is patient, tender eyes wait for any answer he can take. Grian wishes he could give him more "I'm having nightmares"
That's as much as he gives. After a silence, Scar realizes that there won't be further elaboration and nods.
"Okay" he accepts "Is there something I could do to help with that?"
"Not really, I don't think"
He nods again, something close to disappointment on his features before he quickly changes it up into a smile.
"Well, we're getting there, see?" he says "Now, how about"
The words are stretched out, something in his mind makes his smile weaver.
"Um, I've been meaning to ask, actually" those are chosen words, meticulously picked, well thought out. It's been simmering for a while, and that scares Grian "And you can answer honestly, I won't be mad or anything. But... Do you still want to team with me?"
There's something broken about his tone, like a bird who was shot and is only now trying to fly. It's a fair question, Grian knows it is, it just feels awful to know he's the one that pulled the trigger.
"Scar, of course I do" he tries to sound as honest as possible. Because it's the truth, it's just hard to explain how much he wishes he didn't "I like you, we work great as a team"
Scar scoffs "You mean you work and I tag alone"
It's so bitter, he sounds like a record scratch. Grian has poisoned the apple and now he gets to eat it.
"It's not like that" he sits closer and searches for his eyes "I like this, I like us. I'm just" a pause, this is frustrating.
"You're what?"
"An idiot" he answers exasperated "I'm an idiot and I don't know how to be okay. You're too good and I'm an idiot, and it’s not fair for you to deal with that"
It’s not fair for you to deal with me, it’s left unsaid, and for once he feels honest. Scar is quiet for a second and Grian doesn't know what to do with himself.
"You're not an idiot" he tries.
"Yes, I am" he sighs "I pushed my soulmate away because I'm too much of an idiot to deal with good things"
There’s a rise in the corner of Scar’s lips.
"With good times?"
"Oh my god, I take it all back. I do want to change soulmates actually" he teases and presses the heels of his hands to his eyes. They hurt for some reason.
Scar laughs bright and open, it's healing. They're healing, they can try.
"You're such a drama queen" he states in a surprisingly fond voice "How about you just let yourself enjoy something, give all the tragedy a rest"
It's easier said than done, they both know that much. But Grian has no way of telling Scar that whenever he feels okay around him he's hit with the image of his dead body. That's not easy to bring up.
Grian wants it to be easy, he's so tired of hurting and hiding, of looking at loved ones and seeing past deaths. It follows him and he just wants to be here, not there.
"It's hard" he's quiet again, so Scar hunches over a bit to hear him "It's been hard"
He's felt on the verge of tears this entire time and Scar taking his hand and guiding it closer to his chest doesn't help.
"You can count on me if you need help with it" he brings Grian's hand to his lips and presses them. It feels like the flutter of a thousand butterflies "I got you"
That's the first time in a long time a tear rolls down Grian's cheek. He feels stupid, but he doesn't remember the last time he was able to let his guard down. He trusts Scar, of course he does. He just doesn't trust himself.
"I really don't deserve this"
"Then let me deserve it for you" Scar's eyes shine and this time Grian cannot think of anything else "This is okay. You're okay, just let me be here"
The rain hasn't stopped but Grian doesn't think he'll go fishing today. Without a word, he moves over next to Scar and puts his head on his shoulder, ignoring every voice in his head telling him to get out, this is not for you, this is not what you deserve. It’s difficult, but he thinks he might manage to stay. Scar is trying, so he will try as well.
Scar wraps an arm around him and runs a hand over his feathers almost on reflex, like this right here is where he belongs. Grian feels like it's borrowed, so with a shaky breath he clings to his chest and makes sure it doesn't end.
"This is rotten work" his voice breaks, god he feels so stupid "I’m really no good for you, this will end badly no matter how hard you try"
"Maybe it will, but it's my choice to try" he moves his hand to his hair, softly plays with it in and it is just right "We'll get through it together"
Tears fall easily, who knows how long they've been waiting for a chance to exist outside of his chest. This once, just this one time, Grian lets himself be held.
This is not fair, but when has anything in Grian's life been? He’ll be selfish this once, and if Scar is being honest, maybe he'll get to be selfish a bit more. Maybe it won't be as torturous to sleep, or to wake, or to live.
Nothing comes easy to Grian, but he sure as hell will try.
The pattern of Scar's fingers brushing his hair, the soft beating of his heart paired with Grian's, the pitter-patter of the rain meeting the roof. And the single heavy sigh that escapes Grian's lips right before dozing off, it's all unfair and probably won't last. But how could this be wrong? When Scar hugs him tighter and kisses the top of his head before falling too, how could any of it be wrong.
They sleep, first in a long time. Nightmares are soothed quicker with your heart being cradled by another caring chest.
And the watchers seethe far above because the bird just won't give up on their fox. And their fox won't stop loving the bird.