#no beta we die like the villagers during scar and grian's sith-arc

[windfighter]

Finally got around to typing te story out. I got distracted by sleep because apparently that's a thing my body needs? Anyway story is inspired by this post by @hermitcraftheadcanons and some cobbled together fanons I've stumbled over while stalking the hermitcraft-tag

no beta we die like the villagers during Grian and Scar's sith-arc

Summary: Grian always hides his true self, both to protect himself from the memories and to protect others from the horrors of his past. But in the quiet of his mansion, in the empty rooms, he can let his disguise fall. No one will see him there, no one will find out, especially not with everyone busy with their projects.

But Scar's project is done. Almost. Maybe he could use the input of one of his friends to help him with the last details.

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Grian let his disguise fall as he entered the mansion. His perfect skin slowly faded, instead revealing skin covered by white and pink scars in all shapes and sizes. His left eye faded as well, leaving only void and darkness behind, and his right eye became grumbled, but it was a long time since he relied only on his eyes to see. The magic coursing through his veins gave him the ability to sense his surroundings. Not enough to see colors and textures but Pearl used to help him with that and now he was good enough on his own. His magic couldn't help his hearing, but at home he didn't need to hear the emptiness of the mansion and he took his hearing aids off and put them in a chest by the door. He pulled his hand through his hair, flinched as his fingers found one of his scars. He held the hand infront of his face, his one eye staring at the hazy shape it formed infront of him. Did it actually hurt or was it just the memories? He couldn't tell any longer.

His friends were all busy putting the finishing touches on their projects and Grian had planned to work on his own. His mansion was almost done and he wanted to get it completed, but he was so tired. The disguise didn't use a lot of magic, it was easy to maintain since he had worked hard on transferring the image to his subconscious and sometimes he'd even wake up in it, unaware of having summoned it. But he had kept it up for weeks now, while working in Aque, on the HCBBS, on the barge, and it was wearing him down. He stretched, scars across his joints protested and he curled up slightly again. His wings ached, hidden under his sweater where they wouldn't be visible. But everyone was busy working and maybe for once Grian could let all of himself out.

Grian's sweater fell to the floor and two wings flapped slowly behind Grian. He closed his eye, relaxed his shoulders for the first time in months. There were no windows in the mansion, no water where he could catch a hazy glance of his reflection. Nothing to remind him about the Before except the ache in his scars that would never quite heal no matter how many times he respawned. He yawned as a new wave of exhaustion swept over him.

”A bed, a bed. My kindgom for a bed.”

He stumbled more than walked through the empty halls. He didn't need any magic to navigate it, the hazy sight his eye provided was more than enough. There was no furniture, no pets, nothing he could stumble over as he made his way forward. His body ached with every step, the exhaustion making him unable to filter out the pain that was always present and he could usually ignore. He fell into the bed, greeted by Professor Beak. He rolled over to his side, fixed his eye on the parrot.

”We've been through a lot, haven't we?”

He closed his eye, prepared for sleep to pull him under. Professor Beak flew down, landed on the headboard of the bed. Grian's body shuddered as he took a shaky breath.

”It's better now though, isn't it? Taurtis?”

Professor Beak whistled an answer and Grian was pulled away from consiousness.

-

ScarX was done. Scar stood on top of his giant drill and looked at what he had achieved. Every detail he could think of had been added, no stone left unturned, there were Jellies everywhere. Still, something was missing. He scratched his head, carefully touched the scar on his cheek. Maybe Badtimes could help him figure the missing pieces out. But the Helshermits were just as busy as the hermits, everyone working hard to finish up whatever they were doing. Badtimes would probably just suggest fire anyway and that wouldn't be as helpful as Scar would have liked. Scar fiddled with the communicator in his pocket before deciding to send out a message to his fellow hermits.

GoodtimewithScar: ScarX is done but it feels like something's missing?

Etho: TNT

iskall85: TNT of doom

BdoubleO100: Definately TNT

Tango: Sounds like a job for the Boomers

GoodtimewithScar: We are not blowing up my base

MumboJumbo: Can we blow up mine? It's almost dead anyway

Xisuma: Alright, I think we all need a break.

iJevin: And some TNT

Xisuma: Let's all meet up at the moopop café for some relaxation and games. We've been working hard this past week.

Scar put the communicator away again. TNT was not missing from ScarX, but someone had been missing from the TNT-discussion. He frowned and turned in the direction of Grian's mansion. Grian would never miss a chance to blow something up. Maybe he should make sure all was fine and that Grian hadn't gotten stuck in obsessed build-mode again. And despite their differences in buildstyles, they still had similar ideas when it came to building so maybe Grian would be able to help him find the missing detail. He jumped off the drill, fired off a rocket and took to the sky.

-

Something woke Grian up. A tingling sensation in his neck. Something was coming? Or wrong? He blinked, tried to shake the exhaustion off himself. How long had he slept? Taurtis would wake him up if he slept for too long. He sat up, untangled his legs from the blanket and looked around. A shape was standing in the hallway, staring at him, and Grian's magic was sent into overdrive. His regular disguise started creeping over him, hiding his torn skin and destroyed eyes. Another flash of magic rushed towards the figure and smashed straight into Scar's magic. Grian got to his feet. Scar took a step closer. Could he joke it off? Force Scar to forget it? He clenched and unclenched his hands. His mouth was dry. Watcher magic was coursing through his veins, demanding to be used. He could ban Scar from the server, use his magic to override the code of the world, cause a permadeath. Scar was his friend but no, Watchers didn't have friends and no one could know about Grian's history. He didn't want questions, hugs, pats on the back and pitying looks. Scar took another step closer and Grian still didn't move. Taurtis lifted from the headboard. Professor Beak lifted from the headboard and Grian wanted to tell him to flee. Scar took another step, he was too close now, close enough that Grian didn't need to actively send his magic out to sense Scar. Scar's magic was pressing against Grian's, aggressive in a completely different way than the Watcher's magic was. More unhinged and feral and Grian had never felt it so strongly before. Wings sprouted on Scar's back, thin things that wouldn't be able to carry anyone if they didn't have magic as well. Scar's skin shifted, changed.

Scar was close enough that they could almost touch. Grian's breathing was quick. He needed to have done something five minutes ago and yet his body remained frozen. He wanted to blame the magic oozing from Scar – it was an unknown factor – but he knew there was another reason; he cared. He had allowed himself to relax, to let the perosn infront of him get close. Scar looked at him, his eyes empty and yet so focused. He held his palms towards Grian, as if approaching a scared animal. Grian took a step back, getting closer to cornering himself, but Scar didn't follow.

”You don't have to hide here, Grian.”

Scar's voice was heavy with barely held back magic. It vibrated through the air around them, through Grian's body, and his and Scar's magic worked in unison to get the words past his worsened hearing. Grian shivered. He didn't want to answer, knew he would be unable to keep his own magic at bay if he did.

”We all have our secrets”, Scar continued with a softer voice, ”and we might not understand yours, but we're here when you're ready to tell us.”

Grian couldn't breathe. Scar took a step back, his magic and shape retreatng, returning to normal, but Grian no longer knew what was normal about his friend. Grian got ready to dash past his friend, to send the whole mansion flying with Scar still in it because Scar was too close, Scar knew too much, and there was no way Grian could hide it all back, make it unseen, because watchermagic couldn't fiddle with time in that way. Scar took another step back, started looking through his inventory. Grian prepared to bolt, was just about to run when Scar pulled a piece of red fabric out of his inventory and offered it to Grian.

”Everyone's meeting at the moopop café, you should come. And then I can help you with the mansion and you can maybe take a look at ScarX?”

Grian's hand shook as he reached for the sweater in Scar's hands. He stared at Scar's face, fake black eyes locked onto fake green ones. He had questions, still considered escaping, once again hiding the truth. His fingers touched the fabric. It was more than a sweater at the moment and Grian knew, understood. It was a promise. A promise that Scar would be there, help him keep the secret as long as he needed it and support him through the troubles he had with it. By taking the sweater Grian would accept that, accept Scar's friendship in a deeper way than he had before. By taking the sweater Grian promised that one day he'd stop hiding, at least for Scar.

The scars on Grian's hand ached when he grabbed the sweater, his wings ached as he pulled it over his head and squished them against his back. His body felt drained but he smiled towards Scar.

”Sounds fun. Should I bring the TNT?”

Scar laughed and Grian knew he had made the right choice.