So... I had this draft all ready for editing for a few weeks now... but then forgot to edit and post it. Then I was like, "what's this?" and... yeah. Anyway, enjoy. 

♡『♡』♡

Grian was never good at dealing with things like this. Things like messing up, the Watchers, or considering the idea that all he loved could be plucked away from him ever so easily. It was in times like these when his thoughts began to race all over again that he just wished he could disconnect his brain. However, that clearly wasn't an option.

It was also in times like these when he realized just how far he had come. Forcing himself to take slow, steadying breaths helped forced his brain to slow down too. Not enough to make everything better.

How could it be better? He had killed his own best friend and godson, who was possibly the most accident prone person he had ever met. (Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration, but still. His point still stood.) And even if it hadn't happened, they were all trapped here! Over time, people would naturally have more and more mishaps until no one was left!

No, no Scott would get them out of this. The stranger seemed trustworthy enough, seeing as he was a real Admin, unlike Grian. That's what he repeated to himself under his breath over and over again, trying his best to believe it. He grabbed onto his jumper sleeve and rubbed it against his fingers, doing the best he could to ground himself. Sometimes it was effective. Other times, well... not so much. It wasn't as though it was doing nothing, but this was one of the latter times.

"Oh G!" A familiar voice called, snapping him out of his thoughts. He must have been drowning in them for some time, because it was Scar. The man hurried over, even though he was limping slightly. "It's ok! I'm okay!"

Grian glanced around them. Everyone was still there. All the voices that had faded into the background were still there. Even Martyn had come back from wherever he had gone. The worried expressions of his friends were gone now though, each of them seemingly have recovered from the incident.

Everyone but him, who was still trying to get out of his own head.

Scar was ever the charismatic person. Everyone began to flock around him, asking him if he was sure that he was okay. With a few short words and a smile that could just about stop a heartbeat, the crowd was reassured fairly quickly and backed off. It was when Scar was able to placate a crowd as though it were nothing that Grian remembered just who he had watched grow up. Even he was so swept away for a moment that he hadn't quite registered the fact that Scar came and stood right next to him.

"Grian? Are you okay?" He asked in a voice so gentle, so genuine.

Only if Scar was truly powerful enough to dispel his worries forever. But alas, he wasn't. "I—" it felt like everyone was staring at them. He nodded. "Let's go somewhere more private." He said. His best friend nodded in understanding before taking him by the hand and leading them off to one of the villager houses.

Once Scar had walked them through the door and sat them both down on the couch, Grian felt himself ease. "Thanks for that, Scar. You know how I can get." He admitted as he stared outside. Often times, it was easier to avoid eye contact, especially when he was upset. Maybe that was a lingering effect from being a Watcher. Or maybe, he had just always been like that. Or maybe, it was some kind of trauma. Maybe a bit of all three, even.

"I know." Scar replied, giving his hand a light squeeze.

The two sat in silence for a few more moments. Grian felt much better here, relaxing with Scar and only Scar. But then, all the guilt bubbled up at once. He gasped as though he had almost forgotten why they were even there in the first place. "But Scar— I — I'm really sorry that I killed you! I mean, I didn't mean to and I just—"

Scar held a hand up to silence him. "Grian, I told you it's fine. There's no way you could have known what would have happened." He replied.

"But— but what if this would have been a true hardcore world? Scar, you would have been dead! I would have just killed the man that I—!" Grian felt the tears well up and the heat flush to his face.

"Grian!" Scar said again, forcing Grian out of it. His stern expression lasted just a moment before it softened again. He moved his hand up Grian's arm and rested it on his back instead to rub soothing circles. "You know me. I'm careless, and it's partially my fault, too. I heard Martyn say something about a creeper, I saw other people moving back and I just... stood there. The signs were all there. And even beyond that, it was an honest mistake. Any one of us could have decided to do the exact same prank." His voice was so genuine, so full of care and charisma, that Grian simply had to believe it.

"I— thanks Scar." He replied, feeling as though he had just pulled a heavy blanket off of his shoulders and he could breathe again. The relief was almost overwhelming, and even more so, it was eye opening. Quite literally.

"Uh... Scar?" He asked, blinking as he looked back outside.

"Yes?"

"Where the Void is the wall?!" He exclaimed, pointing at the giant gaping hole in front of them. His eye twitched slightly. "What kind of private place is this?!"

"One with a burnt wall. I got a bit excited earlier." Scar shrugged, as though arson was a completely normal activity to do when one was bored. It was this casual demeanor that made Grian facepalm.

"Scar, you can't just do that!"

"Why not?"

Grian deadpanned, going extremely silent. Then, he screamed, "Because you can't!"

He was met with the most annoying, incriminatingly innocent smirk he had ever seen in his life. And he lost it. They both did, actually, both bursting into laughter.

"Scar! Scar!" Grian cried between screams of laughter, which only made Scar laugh harder, which made Grian scream even more. Even when they both slid off the couch and onto the floor, they just kept laughing. They laughed and laughed until they were both so winded that they simply couldn't go on laughing anymore and instead tried to catch their breath. Grian moved a bit so that the top of his head was against Scar's, each of them laying in the opposite direction and staring at the hole in the wall.

Laying there, Grian realized that this was exactly what he had needed: to get away from everyone, reassurance and a good laugh. Scar really was one of the best friends he could have imagined. He allowed himself to close his eyes and drink in the present moment.

He wasn't sure how long the both of them had laid there when he opened his eyes again. He shifted so that he could get a look at Scar's face. His eyes were closed too, and he looked peaceful; possibly sleeping.

"Scar." He called softly enough that if his friend were to really be asleep, it wouldn't disturb him. Must be that he wasn't, because his yellow eyes opened and peered at Grian.

Wait, yellow? Scar always had the most vibrant green eyes, even as a baby.

"Yeah?" Scar asked, blinking. The color didn't go away. Grian frowned at that, but he tucked away the information for later. Another glitch, it would seem, and possibly one they wouldn't be able to fix - like his wings.

"I just... um..." Grian had to take a few moments to refocus his thoughts. "Look, just because... that happened, I want to help you set up base. If we have three lives, then well, consider my first life yours. You can get your way with whatever. But if I die, all bets are off, okay?" He explained.

Scar pushed himself to a sitting position, a deep frown appearing on his features. "Grian, are you sure about that?" He asked.

"Yes." Grian nodded, a bit hesitantly. Something about Scar's sudden seriousness put him on edge. "Besides, we're friends. How bad could it be?"

Scar's unwavering expression only caused the sinking feeling in his stomach to worsen. But then, Scar put on a goofy, almost loopy, grin. "Perfect! Then let's mine all the sand out of the desert and have a monopoly on sand!"

Never had Grian regretted something so quickly in his two-hundred years. He was in for a wild, albeit it very stupid, ride now.

♡『♡』♡

As the afternoon turned to evening, the group found that they had started to grow hungry. Most of them had continued to stay in the village, mixing and mingling with each other.

"Hey Martyn," BigB called after he had realized this. "Do you remember those get togethers we used to have? Late nights over a meal?"

The edges of Martyn's lips twitched into a smile. "Of course." He replied. The food sucked. Beef, or rather just meat, tasted like nothing but flavorless leather: nothing but dull and difficult to swallow. It was nutrition and that was all, there was no enjoyment in it. There was barely enough to feed a few stomachs, much less ten.

And yet, Martyn couldn't help but look at those long nights with nostalgia. When it came right down to it, he would rather attend a dinner like that again with all his friends rather than another lonely feast full of just about every modded food in existence. That was why he responded, "of course," warmth in his tone.

"How would you like to have one of those again with everyone?" BigB asked.

At first, Martyn was ecstatic. It had been what he had been wanting for a long time now, after all. But then, his excitement died a little by the idea that it would only be four of them, and about ten strangers whom, quite frankly, he cared nothing about. That was disappointing, but still worth it, he decided. And so, he grinned in the end. "Sure, but... do we have food?"

"Not really, no." BigB replied sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "But when did that stop us? Maybe you can go try to find something for us to eat."

"Oh a hunt?" Ren asked as he walked up. "Count me in!"

"Actually I'll be fine-"

"No matter!" Ren chuckled, as though it was somehow funny to him. "Hunting is much more fun with someone else than on your own."

Martyn pouted stubbornly, biting the edge of his cheek to prevent himself from being directly rude. He just wasn't keen on strangers was all. "Fine." He resigned. "But we're leaving right now." In one swift motion, he took out his bow from his inventory and slung it against his back.

The two stayed mostly quiet as they travelled to the plain just outside the village. It was much quieter there, which made Martyn relax. He hadn't quite realized just how loud and bustling the village had been until that moment. He much preferred the natural area. His mother had taught him that the wind and the wildlife understood melodies, singing their own dolce. That was what his people based their own songs on. The wind tied it all together, acting as the symphony's conductor by causing the plants to stir. For the millionth time, he had to wonder how it was possible that other people just didn't recognize it. Why did they think that the word air referred to a song? 

"Martyn?" the werewolf asked, causing Martyn to open his eyes. He hadn't even remembered closing them. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Martyn replied, his voice soft as to not disturb the tune. And, for once, he was saying the full truth. He felt great, actually. Maybe all he really needed was to go back to nature like this. 

His smile must have come off as genuine as he felt it was, because Ren gave him a large one in return. Martyn didn't have to look closely to see his canines were prominent now. "Perfect! Now let's get hunting!" He exclaimed. In one quick motion, the man had taken off his shirt and put it away. That exposed his muscular body, not as well-defined as Scar's, but impressive nonetheless. Tufts of fur were beginning to grow on it in addition to the chest hair that was already there from his human form. But that wasn't what really caught Martyn's attention. Rather, it was a tattoo that displayed numbers in a simple font: 18-5-14. He narrowed his eyes at it, but then quickly looked away when he feared that Ren might misinterpret what his staring at his bare body might mean. 

"Wait, why are you taking off your shirt for that?" He dared to ask.

Ren shrugged. "Why not? It's hot out here and we might get blood everywhere." He explained. Then he smirked, a devilish glint in his eye. "Why, are you thinking of getting in line?" 

"No!" Martyn exclaimed a bit too forcefully, causing himself to wince a moment later. Right, that was probably too harsh, judging by the surprise on Ren's face. "Er-- sorry. Sometimes I can get... touchy, with those kinds of things. Long story." It wasn't actually a long story, he didn't think. Still, he just didn't want to say it out loud. Saying it was like admitting that it had been real. That it mattered when it really didn't in the grand scheme of things. 

"That's alright, my dude. You don't have to tell me anything." Ren replied, his smile turning into one of sympathy. "Sorry if I was a bit too much." 

"I'm sorry, too." Martyn replied, feeling his cheeks flush as he rubbed the back of his neck. He wished that the ground underneath of him would swallow him up and get him away from this rather embarrassing situation. "I mean, I'm usually fine, I just --"

"That's alright. Thank you for telling me, Martyn." Ren said, his voice ever so gentle. For a moment, Martyn had thought that the brunette had tethered himself to nature's song, but he hadn't. He was just showing care and understanding. Care and understanding towards... Martyn? "I can get carried away sometimes. Please tell me if I accidentally make you uncomfortable again, okay?" 

Martyn had to ask himself what even was this conversation. It made him all flustered and uncomfortable, but made his heart flutter at the same time. Why did Ren care, anyway? It wasn't as though Martyn cared for Ren in turn, or really had ever done much for him, either. All he really did was steal some enchants and this was how he was being repaid for that? A nice place to sleep, a good breakfast and now... whatever the blasted nether this was. He couldn't stop his brow from furling slightly, his stubbornness rising up to snuff out whatever feelings he had. "Uh, sure." He said. 

"Would you be more comfortable if I put my shirt back on?" Ren asked him. 

"It's fine." Martyn replied with a smidge of annoyance, but it was true. He was fine with it. "Come on, we should actually get to work now." And before Ren could smother him with kindness again, he hurried off in search for food. 

♡『♡』♡

Grian and Scar soon returned to the village. The evening sky was beginning to bathe the sky in an orange glow, and Scar quickly vanished in the mix of faces. Impulse and Etho were just finishing their touches on a large table in the center of everything. Bdubs and Cleo were helping them, pushing freshly made chairs alongside the table. Tango explained that since everyone seemed to want to stay, they were going to have a feast.

"A feast?" Grian asked. It wasn't that he was opposed to it, but, "do we have that much food?"

"We sure do." Martyn replied behind him. Turning around, he found that both Ren and Martyn were there. Ren had his shirt off. Over his shoulders he had a slaughtered cow, which he supported with one arm. His tattoo was on clear display for all to see. In his other hand, he held a full bag of various other foods they had gathered. Martyn, meanwhile, held a cow of his own. He had kept his shirt on, not minding how a lot of the blood dripped onto his clothing.

"Oh wow!" Grian exclaimed, his eyes widening at the sight. Back in the old days, it would take two cows to feed one person. But now, in a time much less laborsome, a single cow would feed a handful of people. Throw in some bread or other goods, and the meat could be stretched much further.

But speaking of laborsome... "why are they carcasses? Shouldn't they have turned into beef by now?" He asked.

"In hardcore worlds they usually won't turn until you cook them." Martyn replied, pinching the bridge of his nose for as long as he dared to while carrying the animal. "Hardcore sucks like that. Not as bad as—" Grian gave him a look, and Martyn fell silent. His eyebrow twitched and he put on a large, passive aggressive smile. It was the one he wore whenever someone pissed him off but he didn't want to start something. "—the Universe in its early days, but still."

Shit, Grian realized that he may have screwed up. Martyn usually acted annoyed, especially around strangers, but not quite like that. He'd have to talk to Martyn later and explain things a bit better.

He glanced at Ren, who was looking back and forth between the two of them with a confused expression. He cleared his throat, as though to dispense the tension in the air. "Well anyway, it is What it is. This bovine is getting heavy though, so I'm going to bring it over to the kitchen. BigB's waiting on us so he can start cooking."

"Yeah, good call. My arms are starting to get tired too." Martyn replied, casting a glance at Grian before continuing onwards to the house being used for the kitchen.

Ren lingered. "What was that, my dude?" He asked, glancing over at Martyn's retreating form.

"Uh, don't worry about it." Grian dismissed. It was all that he could say. After all, he couldn't let Ren know that he knew Martyn; especially on such a level that with one look, he knew Martyn was upset.

He watched as Ren's confused expression only grew, but the man decided not to pry further. Instead, he readjusted the cow on his shoulders and began to follow Martyn, giving Grian a wave. "Cya later, my dude!"

Grian waited until the two were completely out of sight before letting out a sigh. He didn't care that it had been two or three years since he was a Watcher. Lying like this was hard. He rubbed his arm, silently repeating to himself a promise. One day, one day when it was truly safe, he would come clean to the Hermits. Maybe. Possibly. That too was probably a lie, but at least it was one that made him feel a little bit better about all of this.

♡『♡』♡

You know, I had a blast writing the first scene. There are many scenes that I start off writing, thinking that something might not go anywhere. But man, I was wrong this time. It really shows how good of chemistry Grian and Scar have. And honestly, the scene also acts as a contrast between Grian and Martyn. Grian may have serious anxiety (maybe ptsd?), but he's developing coping mechanisms so it doesn't always feel like the world is falling apart. He also has a ton of friends in his court. Martyn, meanwhile, just kind of shoves things under a rug and blows up as soon as he is alone. He masks well, but he isn't okay. He also doesn't have a support network, or at least one that he trusts.