Chapter Text
Grian woke up crying, covered in cold sweat. It wasn’t often that he had nightmares- but when they came, they came thick and fast. He remembered everything in excruciating detail, the blood of Taurtis as it seeped through his shirt, the maniacal cackle of laughter that Sam had let out as he gave the dagger one final push.
Grian gasped shortly as his fingers pierced his arm. Dammit, he thought, as he tried to mop up the spilled blood with his wings, succeeding only in staining all his bedsheets. The lights hurt his eyes, it was all too bright! His ears hurt with the ringing sound that grew louder and louder until his vision swam, and he-
Taurtis cried out. ‘Sam! SAM!’ But his bunny-eared ‘friend’ only laughed, relishing in his horror. Grian clutched at Taurtis’ hand, unable to do anything but watch as the blood spilled down Taurtis’ side, splashing on the pavement. Tears mixed with the red, creating a pale red liquid reminiscent of watered down whiskey, the same thing they used to click glasses with at parties.
Grian was rudely interrupted out of his dream-thoughts as Taurtis gave one final cry, the last breath before he stopped breathing.
Five minutes until his heart restarted.
Five minutes of screaming at Sam.
Five minutes of unbearable pain.
And then there was some.
Grian awoke in clean white bedsheets and the smell of antiseptic.
‘Hwwruuu?’
He internally cursed at the raspiness of his voice and his inability to speak.
A cool hand covered his own, covered in scars- Scar! Scar was here, and he was going to save him, he was going to know how to help Taurtis, he would know how! And he would fight Sam, and he would- and-
~
Scar saw G start to wake up, and moved over to his side, putting a hand on his. He nearly recoiled back, with how hot it was. He would make a note to tell Xisuma to get some fever medicine.
Ah, shucks. He didn’t know what to do! He barely knew Grian, let alone know how to help him in some kind of panic attack! But it was a hermit’s due to help other hermits, and Scar would do what little he could.
He didn’t have any wings, though, so he couldn’t help with the matting. Maybe he should call someone with wings. Who else had wings on this server? Cub, probably. He would know what to do.
Or X. Xisuma… he was practically the father of the group, so he would know how to deal with fevers. Or maybe Mumbo. Mumbo seemed to know Grian better, maybe he wouldn’t be a bad choice. Scar should really go get him-
But Grian was so cute sleeping, and he didn’t want him to rip out his stitches again from panic. Scar had found him curled up on the floor, shaking and covered in blood, and it was by pure determination he managed to figure out how to stitch up his cuts and get him to sleep.
His comms beeped.
Oh, right. Those things existed. He checked who had just messaged him, and saw that it was Mumbo! Great, surely he knew what to do.
Mumbo>> hey, seen g? thought he would b at breakfast
Scar>> he’s over at mine, I was up doing base work
Scar>> heard him screaming and went over to check, he had some kind of panic attack type thing
Mumbo>> did he mention anything abt a guy named taurtis
Scar>> yeah he mumbled that a few times
Mumbo>> k I’m coming over
Scar>> y? Is he important?
Mumbo>> I’ll leave that for him to say, just know that he was a guy on a previous server that he was on
Scar>> alright see you soon?
Mumbo>> yeah I’m just flying over now
Mumbo>> ill be five minutes
Scar>> k see you then!
It had been a long time since he had last talked to Mumbo, Scar thought. He missed the moustache man.
And he missed baking. He had stopped making his cookies for a while now, and he was beginning to miss the quiet kneading of the dough, the silence and peace of his own mind.
A shuffle from the other side of the room reminded Scar that G was literally like, dying. And he was thinking about cookies? God, he must be an awful person, not deserving of any of this, should be-
A quiet knock on the door of his piratey base told him that Mumbo had arrived. Scar hurried over, accidentally knocking over some books which toppled over into a flower vase conveniently filled with water that spilled towards the door.
Dammit.
He stepped around the puddle best he could, and warmly welcomed Mumbo in.
‘Scar! Haven’t seen you in a long time- oh, why is the floor wet.’
‘…Well I’m me, so…’
‘Sounds about right, you spoon. I’ll help you mop that up if you show me where Grian is. He’s been having nightmares a lot lately, and I’m a little concerned.’
Scar nodded, perhaps a little too enthusiastically for the severity of the situation, but regardless led Mumbo to a little unfinished room in the side of his base.
Mumbo looked at the gaping hole in the wall.
‘Scar, I hate to say this, but I can see the stars mate.’
‘Well, I think someone once said that stars are calming…?’
‘Did you run out of gilded blackstone?’ Mumbo surveyed the room, indeed a mix of gilded blackstone and black concrete.
‘No…’
Mumbo laughed, then headed over to Grian, who briefly stirred.
‘Mmbb.’
‘Grian!’
‘Nnggh,’ Grian groaned, a slight note of panic now in his voice.
‘Hey, Grian, mate. You’re fine! Yeah. You will be. It’s me! Mumbo. You aren’t in EVO anymore… you’re here. In Hermitcraft. At Scar’s base.’
‘Scar?’
‘Yeah, Scar.’
Scar walked over at the mention of his name, and as he came into Grian’s view the man relaxed, releasing some tension in his shoulders.
Five minutes passed in a comfortable silence, just three friends-if they were friends, Scar still wasn’t sure- but it was warm.
Grian spread his wings out, enveloping both Mumbo and Scar in a tight hug. Nobody said anything if Grian quickly cried through their clothes, or when his entire body would rack with sobs, just held him until he was asleep.