Joel stared blankly at both Grian and Scott.

How had he become the babysitter for a bunch of grown men?

Scott was now nursing an ice pack to his nose, face bloodied and bruised. Grian looked guilty but he would never admit it, arms crossed as he attempted to look mad at the elven prince. Neither would admit they were wrong despite the guilt they each wore.

"Are you going to explain or make me stare at the two of you?" Joel asked bluntly, making both flinch away from him. He rolled his eyes. "It's obvious you two had a fight and Scott came out way more injured than you could ever manage so? Spit it out."

The two still wouldn't even look at each other, just staring at the floor.

Joel almost gave up, ready to just take a nap right there but Grian finally opened his mouth.

"We exchanged words that I regret and it escalated. Sorry."

Joel narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean, 'sorry?' You blew up HALF of the server, you are fucking lucky your magic was unconsciously protecting Jimmy. Also, you practically ruined Scott's face, Jimmy will be upset when he finds out."

Scott touched the bandages and looked up. "Jimmy won't care, he obviously just wants me gone."

Joel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "God, I am not dealing with some sort of therapy sessions right now. Apologize to each other and know that whatever you said to each other was just meant to hurt and not supposed to be true. Jimmy cares and whatever Scott said, Grian, it's not true. Hug, makeup, do whatever."

Scott was the first to move. "I didn't mean it... you shouldn't blame yourself for everything that had happened. I may not be the most... happy with you right now but people do care about you..." Joel nodded his head although he was becoming concerned over what they held over each other's heads.

Grian smiled weakly. "And I'm sorry for saying you don't actually care. You have taken care of my brother and I'm thankful for that. Also, I'm sorry about the whole... face."

Scott laughed for a second before wincing in pain. "I don't care about the face thing. It will heal."

Grian looked slightly horrified as a thought came to mind. "But it might not! I don't know if I fixed the server, you could be stuck-"

"Okay, enough, enough." Joel interupted, standing up. "That's enough blame and I'm sure it will be fine. You already fixed up the destroyed half of the server, everything should be better right now."

Grian grimaced. "If you are sure."

---

Jimmy peered out the door he rarely went out any more.

It looked fine but he knew the smell of gunpowder and could see the purple traces across the surfaces. It didn't help that he had been right there when a loud bang had gone off.

He remembered shooting up in bed, having a panic attack and remembering his second death and the pain of being torn apart and assembled back together.

But after awhile of panicking, the door had slammed open, a bloody person with a purple aura entered. Dust and dirt contaminated the room.

"Jimmy!" The person shouted, voice horase as they looked around wildly. It didn't take long for the name to click and he had realized that it was Grian.

...

Whose blood was that?

He had screamed, pure fear racing through his heart. He had held the closest weapon he had, a shovel that nobody bothered confiscating.

"Whose blood is that!?" He screamed accusingly, standing on the bed in an attempt to get higher ground.

The neon purple eyes snapped up to him and widened in relief. "Thank god you are okay!" Grian shouted, stepping closer but Jimmy held the shovel above his head.

It had been pretty foggy after that but now here he was, staring into the kitchen and living room of his small little cottage.

His cottage.

When had he ever had anything to himself?

He had always shared or something was never completely his. His crowns, his toys, everything from when he was a child was temporary, given away without his permission.

But this was his house.

No, his home.

He could pretend to be sad, he hasn't slept in days, he hadn't felt any light in his life since days ago when Scott had proposed (did he really feel happy then?)

But this?

Something in him welled.

The couch wasn't his, the kitchen utensils weren't his. The only thing he managed to barter by himself was an armchair, one he found comfortable. That was also just his.

He smiled, running his hands across the plush chair, sitting down. It was his, in his own house that he was only in. Nobody was here, probably off giving him his much needed space.

Why did this make him happy?

He remembered being a child, lonely in the palace with his siblings gone and absent parents. He hated those days when it was just him, lonely and forgotten. But now, he was alone and he was excited, happy, joyful. It was different now, the attention had gotten overbearing and uncomfortable. He felt like they were treating him like a child. He had grown up long ago.

He slouched, kicking his legs over the arm of the chair and closing his eyes.

His mother would yell at him for slouching. Scott would chastise him for not sitting in the furniture properly.

But his home, his rules.

---

Grian couldn't get Scott's words out of his head. (Nor could he get the images of blood and destruction, thinking both Scott and Jimmy were dead by his own hands.)

They wouldn't care if he were dead, gone.

He rolled his sleeves up, seeing the familiar scars across his pale skin. They had started to fade awhile ago.

He was clean, why was he doing this again?

Grian had started back when he was in highschool. Samgladiator had forced him to self harm for his own enjoyment. He used a lighter that Sam had bought and eventually he just started doing it whenever he wanted. Taurtis had found out and smuggled him away from Sam.

He had been clean for a few years and then the Watchers came.

He hated thinking of those times.

Regardless, it seemed to be endless as he moved from burning to cutting when he needed more. When the whole incident happened, the closest Hermits to him knew and helped him get clean again.

How long ago was that?

But it didn't matter.

Grian watched the blood run down his pale arm but he didn't do anything more. He summoned his admin computer and the violet magic swirled around him just like a nether portal. In the small place he was in, he aged his body faster than the surroundings, just enough that it should naturally regenerate.

But it didn't.

The blood was now crusted and he glared. At least he tested it out now, if he hadn't Scott wouldn't be healing at all.

He worked for awhile, constantly testing out the healing with his own skin. He would be scared of Scar finding him at the sand mesa but the Hermit was off bothering other people in an effort to give Grian some space.

That was probably not the smartest move on his part but it wasn't going to stop Grian now.

After around twenty cuts, it healed.

Grian watched as his skin stitched itself together and was back to being clear, not even a drop of blood along his arm besides the other cuts.

He smiled.

He had done it, he solved it and now nobody else would need to hurt.

Closing his eyes and picturing a clock, he turned time back within his body to back before he started. Opening his eyes, his skin was back to the small scars from back then. He wished the same magic would work on Jimmy but he seemed immune to Grian's time magic. It was most likely due to the whole aging process that the Watchers placed on him and it didn't help that Grian's powers worked better on himself than on others.

He made sure the server code stayed before snapping it out of existence.

Nobody would ever know what had happened.

(Like older brother, like younger brother, am i right?)