#allostasis main tag

[endcrman]

Allostasis

(Chapter 3)

As a general rule of thumb, Grian doesn’t do public servers for a multitude of reasons. This one hadn’t even made it onto the list.

TW for implied sexual assault, PTSD symptoms, and Self-Neglect

(This is a comfort chapter in the hurt/comfort fic)

Read the whole fic here. (Here for Ao3/mobile.)

-

Panic enveloped him first, before anything else.

He was surrounded by water, he realized, unable to stop himself from gasping, liquid rushing to fill his lungs. His eyes shot open, stinging from whatever else was in the water with him, everything blurry. His wings were heavy, pulling him deeper, deeper even as he flailed, trying to pull himself above the surface.

He could hear his heart pounding in his ears, fast, jackhammering away as his desperate lungs tried to pull in another breath- only more water. He felt dizzy, flailing hopelessly, arms feeling heavier and heavier, until they met something solid.

The surface was covered, he was trapped.

His vision started going dark as panic enveloped his entire being.

There was muffled shouting as he faded away again.

Grian gasped, sitting up suddenly as he woke. He found his own hand at his throat as he coughed, almost as if the imaginary liquid could leave his lungs still, the memory of his dream sending him reeling.

He hadn't noticed the hushed voices from just outside his door until they stopped, pausing at the commotion he was making. Two pairs of eyes peeked around the doorframe, both landing on him easily, not like he'd moved at all, and Grian couldn't stop himself from shrinking at the attention.

“Grian!” Scar was too loud, too excited, too eager as he rushed inside, towards the bed. “Joel told me a little about what was happening, you should have told me!”

He felt his face crinkle at the thought, looking away from the other at the much more interesting wall. Had that crack in that plank always been there?

There was a beat before Scar spoke again, voice quieting down a bit to a much more tolerable level. “Sorry, guess that's probably why you didn't tell me. I can go if you want? I don't know- Joel said I should come over, he told me you said it was okay but we both know how he can be-”

“Hey!” Joel cut off his rambling, sounding offended. “He did say it was okay. Give him a blummin’ moment Scar, you're going to get yourself kicked out.”

“Sorry,” Grian managed, throat feeling even more sore from hacking his lungs out a moment ago, “still- still tired.”

“That's fine,” Scar quickly assured him, reaching out to touch Grian's shoulder despite Joel's hissed warning. “No need for sorries, take your time.”

Despite Joel's concerns, Grian relaxed under the small touch. He hadn't realized just how much he missed this, even the little touches, not until Joel had been standing behind him carefully detangling his hair.

“Helped convince him to take a shower and eat,” Joel spoke softly, clearly not to Grian himself. “His voice is a bit rough though, like you heard,” and Joel's attention turned toward him again. “Did you want more tea, Grian?”

He thought about it for a moment, but the soreness in his throat had yet to let up. “Less honey this time?” He asked, finally looking back over at his two friends.

“You got it boss.” And Joel was off, busying himself over the stove.

“Honey's supposed to be good for your throat,” Scar interjected, making a wheezy laugh escape Grian.

“Yeah, that's why he put too much in last night,” he hummed, before thinking a bit more on it. “Earlier? I- I don't know how long it's been.”

“Probably just earlier,” Scar's voice was soft, at least for now, before he got too excited to remember it again. “He said he came over this morning.”

“Mm.” He couldn't think of any other way to respond, simply acknowledging the fact. This morning. Judging by the light outside his windows, he'd been out for most of the day then, the sun would be setting soon. “Are you staying the night?” He asked, as soon as the thought came to mind.

“Oh- uh, I think that was the plan? As long as you're alright with that,” Scar seemed unsure, fidgeting in place. “You can kick me out whenever, but Joel said you probably shouldn't be alone right now.”

Grian felt his lip curl, even though Joel was probably right. “I'm not going to kick you out, Scar.” He glanced over at the other, noting how he twisted his hands together, a ball of energy. “Did Joel pull you away from a build?”

“What? No!” Scar lied, laughing as he deliberately placed his hands on the armrests of his chair. “Don't worry about it, G, I'd rather be here anyway.”

“Don't be like that,” Grian scoffed, rolling his eyes. “What did Joel even tell you anyways? How much of my business did he spill?” He wasn't actually upset at Joel, not really, but he felt bitter.

“Not a lot!” Scar's hands were raised again, as if trying to calm a panicked animal. “Just… that you've been here a while now, and you've been having an episode, but you won't say why. Not that you have to! Just- that's what he told me.”

“An episode,” Grian repeated bitterly, mumbled under his breath.

“Like- Like a PTSD episode,” Scar clarified, wringing his hands again.

Grian grimaced at the bluntness, looking away from Scar again. He almost wished for his comm, but he knew it was a bad idea, who knew what kinds of messages could be waiting on there. “Who said I have PTSD?” He bluffed, knowing there were at least a couple of Hermits who would confirm as much, it wasn't his best kept secret.

“Grian…” Scar's hand was on his shoulder yet again, and he couldn't stop himself from relaxing under it immediately. “You don't have to tell me anything, okay? Just let me know how I can help. If I can help.”

For a while it was quiet, just the distant sounds of Joel opening and closing different chests. Grian hadn't even realize he started crying until Scar was pulling away.

“Joel?” Grian could hear the concern in his voice, even though he hadn't done anything wrong. He hadn't.

Grian whipped around, grabbing Scar's wrist and holding on far too tight, feeling the tears roll down his cheeks. “D-don't leave,” he barely managed. Scar's other hand moved from the wheel of his chair, gently wrapping his fingers around Grian's grip.

“Oh, Grian…” Scar's voice almost matched his in volume, and for once Grian couldn't bring himself to care how full of pity it was. Maybe just this once he needed a little pity. “I'm sorry, I thought… I thought I upset you. I was just going to get Joel.”

“Please don't leave me.” It was pathetic, he felt pathetic, he was pathetic; but the last time Scar left him alone… He hiccuped, free hand rubbing furiously at his face. “Please, Scar-”

“I'm not going anywhere, Grian.” He barely managed to slip his hand out of Grian's grip, only to lace their fingers together, other hand sandwiching Grian's between them. “You're okay, I'm here.”

There were footsteps approaching, and then silence for a moment. Grian looked up just in time to see the look Joel and Scar were sharing, before their joint attention was on him again.

“I'm going to put this here,” Joel said once he realized Grian was watching him, setting the mug of tea on the bedside table. “For when you're thirsty again.”

Grian sniffled, nodding a little. “Th-thanks. Sorry,” he mumbled, rubbing at his eyes with his free hand, squeezing Scar's with the other.

“It's fine,” Joel assured him, reaching out to brush Grian's hair out of his face again. “... Do you want me to stay? I was going to head out soon now that Scar is here, but I don't have to.”

Grian quickly shook his head, almost immediately undoing the progress Joel had made on his hair again. “Don't- don't stay just because you feel like you have to,” he insisted, even though that was exactly what Scar was doing. “You've been here all day.”

“Meh,” Joel shrugged, keeping his hands to himself this time. “I don't mind staying longer, but if you want me to go…” He glanced over to where Grian's comm was resting, just next to the cup of tea. “Don't hesitate to call me, either of you!”

Scar pulled a hand away to salute. “Sir yes sir!” He said earnestly, a smile on his face. Grian couldn't stop the tiny laugh that made its way through his tears, Scar's ridiculousness a balm on the entire situation. 

“Good, good.” And Joel was making his way toward the door, hesitating. “Grian,” he had paused in the doorway, biting his lower lip. “We're here for you, alright? Ping me and I'll be over in an instant.”

Grian's chest hurt, and it took everything in him not to sob as he nodded a little. His voice was shaking as he managed a single word, “okay.” And then Joel was gone.

It probably wasn't actually that fast, he probably waited by the door for another minute or two, waiting to see if Grian changed his mind. Though once he finally managed to blink away his tears again it was just him and Scar, who was cradling his hand between his own once more.

“You should drink your tea,” Scar's voice was still quiet as he raised the hand not directly intertwined with Grian's fingers, thumb brushing away some of the wetness on his cheek. “Replace some of those liquids you just lost.”

“Not sure that's how it works,” he mumbled, head tilting into the touch.

“Wouldn't hurt either though.” Scar’s hand started to pull away, only for Grian to hold on to it even tighter. “I’m not going anywhere, G-man, just think you should use two hands to hold the mug, you’re a bit shaky.”

Grian wet his lips, squeezing Scar’s hand again. “... Promise?”

Scar squeezed right back. “Cross my heart.”

Reluctantly, Grian dropped Scar’s hand. He forced himself to keep calm even as the other pulled away a bit, picking up the mug to hand to him, which he took in trembling hands himself. Scar was right, of course, he was in no state to use just one.

“Thank you,” he murmured, before taking a sip of the tea, thanking the void it wasn’t as sweet as the last time he’d had it, he wasn’t sure he could stomach it again. He watched over the mug as Scar rolled minutely closer to the bed before activating the brakes, fiddling with his hands in his lap before looking up again, catching the other's gaze before Grian's eyes quickly darted away.

“Aren't you going to ask?” His words were muffled, spoken into the mug and swallowed by it.

“Ask what?” He could see Scar lean forward a bit in the corner of his eye.

He took another sip of tea, delaying the inevitable. “What happened.”

Scar was quiet for a moment, clearly thinking about what to say next, which wasn't always something he did. Grian almost snickered at the thought, but Scar was speaking finally.

“No, I don't think so,” he looked thoughtful, resting his chin on his fist. “You'll tell me if you want to, Joel said you might, but I'm not gonna push it.” It was quiet again, and after a moment Scar looked up, meeting Grian's eyes once more. “Unless you want me to ask, would that make it easier?”

Grian winced at being seen through so easily, looking down into the mug just to avoid contact. “... It might, yeah.”

“Hm, alright.” He didn't sound judgemental, he never did, but Grian couldn't help but feel nervous. “... It has to do with whatever happened at that convention, doesn't it? When we got split up?”

Grian almost felt like he was there again, surrounded by people on all sides, pushing in on him, no care for his personal space— “Yes,” he choked out, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. “It was- it- yes.” He felt Scar's hand rest on his forearm, though he didn't look away from the small bit of tea left in the mug.

“I'm sorry, Grian,” he mumbled, continuing before Grian could tell him it wasn't his fault. “What… What happened? Who did this to you?”

He could feel tears welling up in his eyes again, and he couldn't tell if it was from remembering, or the care that Scar was putting into the situation. “My ex, he- he was on the server. I hadn't spoken with him since high school,” the words sounded legible to him at least, but he'd be a fool to assume that was entirely the truth, voice beginning to shake again as tears rolled down his cheeks for what felt like the millionth time that day.

“He hit you?” Scar gasped, hand gripping a little tighter at Grian's arm.

“I was- I wasn't letting him-” Grian hiccuped, hands going white-knuckled around the mug. “He wanted to touch my wings,” he sobbed, almost spilling what little was left of the tea with how much he was shaking.

“Oh, Grian…” The mug was taken from his hands and set aside, replaced by Scar’s own hand, giving him something softer to squeeze, hopefully not hurting him. “I’m so sorry.”

He was fighting for air through the tears, squeezing Scar’s hand even tighter, pulling it closer towards him as he curled inwards. “He- When we were-” He was broken off by another sob. “Th-they were the only things I had left. I didn’t have them in school. They were mine and now- a-and now-”

“Grian. Grian,” Scar carefully placed his free hand on the other’s shoulder, leaning in close.

“He ruined them!” Grian wailed, unable to stop himself, unable to look Scar in the eyes. “He- he ruined me,” he hiccuped, quieter.

He gasped as he was suddenly pulled into Scar’s arms, almost falling off of the bed. Instead of doing anything else to balance himself, he clung to Scar, sobbing into his shoulder. “I’m sorry- I’m sorry,” he whimpered, feeling the fabric beneath his cheek growing wetter and wetter.

“Shhh…” Scar held him close, and it felt safer than it did restricting, even when he squeezed his arms tighter around him. “Grian, void, Grian, you’re not ruined,” he murmured quietly, face buried in his hair, speaking just above his ear. “You’re not ruined,” he repeated, one of his hands moving up to hold the back of his head, running fingers through his hair. “You can’t… you can’t give him that power over you,” his own voice was shaking slightly, “it’s not your fault.”

Grian couldn’t stop the tears, he couldn’t stop shaking, long ignored sobs escaping his lungs. “I- he made me- I-I feel so disgusting,” he choked out, sure that his nails were digging into Scar’s flesh now, just another thing he couldn’t do right, “I can’t- I can’t look at them, t-touch them- they’re so- and I can’t- I can’t fix them.”

“I’m sorry, Grian, I’m so sorry.” He didn’t even flinch away from Grian’s harsh grip, carefully rocking the two of them back and forth, as much as he could sitting like this. “I wish I could have been there, I wish I could have stopped him. I’m sorry.”

His breath caught on another sob, shaking his head. “You- you did, sort of,” he admitted, his throat beginning to ache again from just how much he was using it now. “When you came looking for me I-” He sniffled, “I stopped it, because- because I heard you. I could.” It wasn’t the full truth, but it was enough.

“Void, I'm so sorry, you're so strong,” Scar mumbled, his hold on the other tightening even more. “Never forget that. You're so, so brave, I'm sorry that you had to be.”

It hurt too much to keep speaking. For now, Grian kept quiet, still sobbing softly into Scar's shoulder. And Scar— the angel— didn't let go, he didn't push him, just held him close, humming softly to him. When he did try to pull away, Grian's grip only tightened again.

“Hey, hang on there,” Scar's voice was still so unusually quiet. “Your back must hurt, at least let me get up on the bed with you.”

It hadn't exactly been at the forefront of his mind, but now that Scar had mentioned it, Grian was far too aware of the sharp soreness in his spine from leaning over too much for too long. He hesitated, because of course he did, before carefully extracting himself from Scar's hold, scooting over to make some extra room on the bed. “I'm tired,” he said softly, newly freed hands rubbing tears away from his eyes, “so hurry up.”

“It'll take as long as it takes,” Scar's tone was just a little lighter. Regardless of what he said, it didn't take too long at all for him to carefully roll into Grian's bed, propped up slightly against the pillow behind him— and immediately Grian was in his arms again, face buried in his chest.

Grian all but melted as Scar started running a hand through his hair. His eyes were still wet, but he wasn't choking on sobs anymore, which he considered an improvement.

“I could help with your wings tomorrow, if you want.” He felt Scar's voice in his chest more than he heard it. “Only if you want me to though, but I think it’d be good to have them cleaned up.”

“I think… I think you’re right,” Grian could only hope Scar actually heard him, the closeness only muffling his soft voice even more. “Maybe… I’d like that.”

“You can decide for sure tomorrow, don’t worry about it right now. Just sleep for now,” Scar murmured, holding onto Grian just a bit tighter.

As exhausted as he was, who was Grian to argue? Slowly drifting off without a word in opposition, finally feeling safe.

-

Grian’s sleep was easy and dreamless that night, a privilege he had not been afforded in the previous week or so, however long he’d been stuck in this rut. When he woke again it was slow, he felt warm, limbs heavy like they were full of lead, but comfortable nonetheless. He could feel a weight over his torso, an arm he realized, holding him close, and finally he cracked open his eyes.

Directly in front of him, blocking the sunlight from hitting his face directly, was Scar, drooling on his pillow.

Grian couldn’t stop the ugly snort that escaped him at the sight, throwing his arms up over his face to block the view, trying to silence the laughter bubbling up inside of him, not wanting to wake the other too early. Though judging by the movement next to him, he failed.

“Mmh, Grian?” Scar’s arm slid off of him, regrettably, but Grian could still feel his body heat, even if he was covering his eyes. “G? You alright?”

He could feel his shoulders shaking, and before he could stop it he burst out laughing, tired giggles escaping his throat as he squeezed his arms tighter, as if that could stop it. He heard a sigh from beside him, before Scar was chuckling softly too.

“What’s got you so worked up?” Scar’s voice was still full of sleep, but he sounded less worried than a moment or two ago, which Grian hadn’t even noticed until just now.

The laughter eventually quieted down and he could bring himself to uncover his face, unable to stop the huge grin from growing, still somewhat hiding behind his hands as he peeked through his fingers at the other. Scar was awake now, clearly, a tired smile on his own face, hair sticking up in every direction possible, at least he wasn’t drooling anymore.

“Heya goof, back with me?” Scar teased, his forever charming smile already contrasting the image Grian had just woken up to, the thought of which made him snicker a little again.fa

“Yeah,” was what he said when he finally managed to make words again, still grinning a bit. “Just glad you stayed, I guess.”

“Uh huh,” Scar didn’t sound convinced, but his amused look didn’t disappear even as he sat up, yawning. “Where would I have gone?” He reached out, hesitating for a moment, but then his hand was brushing through Grian’s hair.

Grian settled into the touch like a particularly pleased cat, eyes fluttering shut as he let out a soft hum. “Dunno, just glad I’m not alone anymore,” he mumbled, not really processing the words before they left him. He’d be embarrassed if he thought about it for too long, so instead he opened his eyes again, looking up at Scar. “Help me with my wings?” He pivoted, knowing he’d be unlikely to work up the courage again.

Scar’s brows furrowed a bit at that, hand stopping for a moment— though it continued again before Grian could complain. “You still want me to? Not just ‘cause you should or whatever?”

He hesitated for a moment, then nodded a little, careful not to jostle Scar’s hand. “Yeah. Yeah I mean, I should for sure but… I don’t know if I can myself,” Grian bit the inside of his cheek, looking away from Scar’s eyes now. “And… I don’t trust just anyone to do it for me, you know. And you have experience.”

“Aww, Grian,” Scar cooed, looking touched when Grian finally met his eyes again. “It’s been a while, you’ll have to tell me if I’m too rough.”

“I don’t think you can be,” Grian said mostly to himself, finally sitting up as well. “... Do you… do you want to do it right now? Before I freak out too much and change my mind?” He pitched his tone up, trying to make it sound more joke than truth, though he knew Scar could see right through him.

“Oh, of course, yeah, come here,” Scar hummed, thankfully not commenting on Grian's nervousness barely bubbling under the surface.

Carefully they maneuvered so Grian was almost sitting in Scar's lap, facing away from him of course. It was another couple of minutes before he took a deep breath, slowly spreading his wings. He heard a sharp inhale from behind him, making his hair stand on end.

“Jeez, Gri,” Scar murmured. He could feel the other's hands hovering just above his wings, not quite touching yet. “This might take me a bit,” he spoke up after a moment, “I don't think I've seen them quite like this before.”

Grian swallowed thickly, a lump forming in his throat. “Is- Is it really bad?” He asked, trying to keep his voice strong. 

“Nothing we can't handle together,” Scar promised, “just breathe, I'm going to start now.”

Grian took a deep breath at Scar's suggestion, and then he felt fingers in his feathers. His head started spinning as he was almost thrown back into the past, back to the convention, back against the wall, hands clawing at his wings— but Scar's touch was so gentle, grounding him in the moment, so careful that he couldn't realistically equate the two. 

“Is this okay so far?” Scar's voice was soft, barely audible in Grian's ear. “Tell me if you need me to stop.”

“You're doing fine,” he choked on his own words, but that didn't stop Scar’s hands, carefully working each feather one by one until it laid flat, plucking those damaged from his own miscare.

“Thank you for letting me do this,” Scar murmured after a particularly tough tug. “So strong. Your wings are going to look a-may-zing after this.”

Grian wasn't sure when he started crying again, silent tears streaming down his cheeks. It seemed Scar was just as unaware, focused on the task at hand until Grian sniffed, raising a hand to rub at his face. 

His hands didn't stop, thank the void, though they did slow. “You holding on alright there, Grian?” He smoothed a hand down the small area he'd already finished, making Grian relax under the touch. 

Grian couldn't help the chirp that escaped him, clear as day even through the tears. “Y-yeah,” he choked after, cheeks heating up in embarrassment. “It's good, just- just a lot.”

“Okay, let me know if you need a break.” Scar meant well, but Grian was fairly certain if they took a break, he wouldn’t let the other start again. Regardless, he nodded a little, even if he lacked the intent behind it.

Their conversation, if it could even be called that, dropped off at that point. Every once in a while Scar would murmur gentle praises and gratitudes, more speaking at Grian than with him, seeing as he didn’t respond and Scar never pushed him to. The tears had dried once more by the time Scar had finished with the first wing and moved onto the other, manually stretching out the muscles that had subconsciously retracted.

Grian almost could have fallen asleep under Scar’s ministrations once he calmed again, breathing steady and slow as he absentmindedly fiddled with the hem of his sweater, movements slow and without purpose. He hadn’t even noticed when Scar eventually stopped, reaching the end of the task at hand.

“Hey, Gri, how’s everything feeling?” Scar’s voice startled Grian out of his own head, his little jolt earning a laugh. “Wake up, sleepyhead. How do your wings feel?”

“Mm?” Words weren’t working quite yet, but they were jump-started again as soon as he spread his wings, startled by just how good they felt. “Oh- Scar they’re- they feel fantastic,” his voice was quiet, and he could almost feel tears welling up again.

“Good,” Scar sounded relieved, running his fingers through Grian’s feathers one last time, making him shiver a little. “They look really good too, so clean and bright, I’m glad I could help.”

“I-” Grian choked for a moment, suddenly yearning for the feeling of air beneath his wings again. He hadn’t realized just how much he missed it. “I need to fly,” he scrambled out of bed, stumbling a little and ignoring Scar’s laugh. “I’ll be right back, I promise, I just-”

“Go.” Scar was grinning, but Grian felt bad leaving him covered in the small pile of broken feathers.

“Five minutes,” he promised, holding up a hand. “Five minutes, then I’ll be back to clean up and we can have breakfast and- and whatever else you want to do today. Five minutes.”

“Five minutes,” Scar agreed, with a knowing smile.

Grian all but dove out the front door, a whooping cheer leaving him for the first time in forever as he spiraled through the air. Fifteen minutes later, he was sheepishly creeping back inside to Scar, windswept hair and a bright smile on his face. He didn’t feel quite so bad about the time though, not when Scar was grinning so wide right back at him.

[endcrman]

Allostasis

(Chapter 2)

As a general rule of thumb, Grian doesn’t do public servers for a multitude of reasons. This one hadn’t even made it onto the list.

TW for implied sexual assault, PTSD symptoms, Self-Neglect, and minor Disordered Eating

Read the whole fic here.

-

Grian woke to more messages. Some from hermits, but he didn't bother looking at those too closely, too preoccupied with the hours-old notification in the universal chat.

samgladiator: griannnnnnn

samgladiator: i know you havent blocked me grian cmon

samgladiator: are you mad about the redstone thingy? i was just goofing and gaffing you know what im like lol

Grian laid his head back against his pillow, eyes closed as he tried to figure out how to respond. His eye hurt. He didn't want to get out of bed. He didn't want to build, he didn't want to fish, he didn't want to work on anything right now. He was tired.

His comm buzzed again.

GoodTimeWithScar: hey grain, how are you doing after yesterday?

Grian: bit tired, but just fine! thanks for checking in

He was tapping out a lie before he could even think about it, not wanting to worry Scar. He had enough to concern himself with even before Grian was involved, he didn't have to add any more stressors to his plate.

Scar said something else, but Grian had closed his messages already, opening Sam's again, staring at them. What was he even supposed to say to that? Call him out on his bullshit? Laugh along with his shitty excuse of a joke? A voice in the back of his head was telling Grian to block him, but that would just make Sam mad, he reasoned.

Grian: what do you want sam

He regretted the message the instant he sent it, flinching as he turned off his comm again. Why was he so stupid? Why couldn't he leave well enough alone?

Grian turned over on his side, pulling a pillow over his head with a groan as the communicator buzzed. If only he hadn't just woken up, then he could fall asleep again and ignore all of this for even longer. 

Of course, Grian had no such luck. Instead he laid there, staring at the blank wall in front of him.

His comm buzzed yet again and Grian let out a bitter laugh, he could almost imagine Sam staring in anticipation at his own comm, waiting for Grian to get back to him after all this time. It was kind of pathetic, if that was what he was doing. How lonely was he?

And yet, Grian was reaching over to read his messages anyways.

samgladiator: i'm sorry.

samgladiator: like for real. no jokes. i know we were really messed up as kids and ive been working on it i promise. i guess i saw you and it just felt like we were kids again. fucked up but still in it together. i didnt mean it

He was still trying to process the words when another message came through, automatically populating the chat.

samgladiator: you can keep ignoring me if you want, i get it :( but if youre ever willing, i wanna make it up to you. text me whenever

He was going to throw up. There were a few panicked moments as he dug through his chests, silently pleading to anyone listening that he actually had a bucket up in his base, not just lost in his chest monster down below. His wishes were answered luckily, however unneeded, as he curled over the metal bucket on the floor, retching and dry heaving. His stomach was already empty, bile burning his throat, but that wasn't enough to curb the ill piercing it's way through his entire being.

Grian wasn't sure how long he sat there, bucket in his lap as his body tried to evacuate his stomach's non-existent contents. He was trembling when he finally managed to stop gagging, the bucket empty aside from a couple stray tears that had made their way down his cheeks. He was so tired again.

Shakily, he set the bucket down on the ground, easily accessible just in case. The sound of metal meeting the wooden floor was so, so loud in his ears, echoing around his base, making him flinch. Grian took a deep breath, carefully getting up on two wobbly legs before rolling into bed again. He should eat. 

He didn't get up, falling asleep again.

-

I'm sorry. Sam might as well have written those words on the inside of Grian's eyelids, as often as he was stuck thinking about them. Sam didn't apologize, that was part of what made him so insufferable to begin with, always convinced that he was in the right. So what the hell was this?

Grian wasn't sure how long it had been since he received those last messages from Sam, not really bothering with the passage of time. He'd spent most of said time thinking, turning over what had happened and what Sam had said in his head, picking at pieces of food he had laying around the base, and making up excuses to not have to see any other hermits.

He knew he was in a sorry state, and he knew he had to pull himself together before anybody saw him. Unfortunately, the universe seemed to have other plans.

“Grian!” Joel's voice was loud, Grian almost didn't recognize it as his own name, directed towards him. He pulled a pillow over his head, squeezing his eyes shut. Maybe if he ignored him, he'd go away.

That was too much to hope for though. Why would Joel ever go away when he could cause problems instead?

“Grian! It's Sunday!” His voice was getting closer, and all Grian could think to do was hold the pillow even tighter over his head. “It's Sunday and you're not at the permit office! Get your butt out here! Or else I'll come in, and drag you out of your birdhouse by your scrawny little ankles, I swear to-'' Joel's voice peaked in both volume and proximity the same time it petered off into uncertainty. Then, it was quieter again. “Grian?”

Grian just groaned in response, holding the pillow even tighter over his head, maybe he could suffocate in it. Then he would respawn, Joel would laugh it off, call him some names for being stupid enough to do something like that, and everything would go back to normal instead of whatever else was about to happen, whatever lecture he was about to receive.

No such luck. Instead he felt a touch on his forearm, something he instinctively rolled away from which left him looking up at the other, wide eyes meeting even wider. He opened his mouth to say something, but couldn’t force anything to come out. He noticed too late to stop just how tightly he was clutching the pillow to his chest, he must look like a mess.

Joel slowly withdrew his hand, and judging by how his brows furrowed and ears flattened against the top of his head the mess part was definitely true. Without wasting another moment, Joel schooled his expression into something more neutral— as if his tail flicking back and forth didn’t give him away— and sat bodily onto the foot of Grian’s bed, bouncing on the mattress.

“You seem busy, the permit office can wait,” he said with a shrug, not looking directly at Grian. He sat cross-legged, pulling his tail into his lap to brush the fur into place, pulling out a leaf and dropping it on the floor without even checking if Grian would care. His wings itched at the reminder of what could be. “Impulse’s wall is starting to get some graffiti on it, have you had a chance to see? Gem’s got a real good tag up there, I think you’d like it.”

Grian was silent, pulling his legs up just a bit so they weren’t in Joel’s way and shifting onto his back to look up at the ceiling instead of the tanuki in front of him. He couldn’t tell if this was better or worse than if the other had just confronted him about what was going on.

“I’ve actually been thinking about what I want to put on it,” Joel continued after a moment, as if the other actually had responded. Grian’s muscles ached from the sudden movements after what felt like days of disuse, leading to him stretching his legs out again, around Joel this time, but he didn’t seem to mind. “I need to put something up over by my base, I couldn’t stand it if it didn’t match my build, even if it was undeniably fantastic.”

He just kept talking, filling the empty air with his voice. Grian wouldn’t admit it, but it was sort of soothing, having somebody else around instead of just jumping from thought to thought, getting lost in them and feeling worse and worse.

It did start feeling awkward after a little, having Joel sit while he laid in bed, so Grian forced himself to sit up even as his muscles protested, at least a little, leaning back against the headboard of his bed.

“Thought you might have fallen asleep or something,” Joel joked once Grian had settled, making him look away in embarrassment. “I wouldn’t have blamed you, you look blummin’ tired, huge bags under your eyes. Something bothering you?” He asked, as if the answer wasn’t obvious. Grian only shrugged, not trusting his voice after so long, thankfully Joel didn’t push for an answer beyond that, coming to the same conclusion. “Stupid question, sorry. New question, when’s the last time you got out of bed?”

Grian must have made a face at that, because Joel laughed before managing to catch himself, snapping his mouth shut, which pulled the quietest huff of laughter out of Grian in turn. Just that by itself made his throat hurt a bit.

“Don’t laugh at me, I’m trying to be a good friend here.” Joel’s tone was light, and his smile made it clear he considered the small noise a success. “Hey, bed boy, let’s get you up and clean, how’s that sound? You go shower, and I’ll make you some real food.”

He wanted to protest, but his throat felt all closed up, and his traitor of a stomach growled at the thought of something other than stale bread for the first time in forever. Instead he pouted, petulant, and held his hands out.

“Yes!” Joel pumped his fist, making Grian roll his eyes. This was so stupid. “Sorry, come on, let’s get you moving again.” He slid off the bed first, taking Grian’s hands and helping him stand up. He almost fell at first, leaning far too much of his weight onto Joel, his legs wanting to do nothing but lay down again. “Careful, can you stand by yourself?”

It took a couple hundred ticks for him to stop swaying, and a couple more for him to finally stand on his own, wings spread just a bit to help him keep balance. He took a deep breath, trying to think of anything but said wings.

“Good job, you’re doing great,” Joel murmured, and it didn’t sound mocking at all, but Grian couldn’t help himself from ruining everything good that happened to him.

“I’m not a child,” he croaked out, voice rough from disuse, it almost didn’t sound like him.

Joel must have thought the same, because he looked shocked, though he quickly gathered himself again. “I know you’re not,” he scolded gently, too kind, “but you look like you’ve been through hell and back, and I want to make this as easy for you as possible."

And now he felt bad, guilty, for ever considering anything different than that. “Sorry,” he managed, even quieter, but Joel shook his head.

“Go get cleaned up, alright? I’ll make some food for you.” He brushed Grian’s hair out of his eyes, brows furrowing again, and he only pulled away when Grian nodded, throat hurting too much to say anything else at the moment.

He didn’t think Joel was going to find anything to make in his base right now, having neglected to actually fill many of the chests, Grian was lucky to have had enough bread to last him as long as it had. Regardless, he made his way to the tiny shower he’d managed to cram into the base, cranking the water heat up as high as it could for now and carefully pulling his t-shirt he’d been wearing for void knows how long off over his wings. He crinkled his nose, imagining the smell he’d become blind to and immediately feeling grateful that Joel hadn’t said anything about it.

Grian kicked off his pants without much fanfare and immediately dove into the shower, melting under the hot water. Now that he was made aware of it, he could feel the layer of grime that was surely there covering his skin, burning water finally melting it away. He carefully sat on the floor of the shower, barely managing to fit in the small space, especially with his wings. He took a deep breath, resting his head on the wall behind him, and just soaked it up like a fish left out of the river for too long, he chuckled softly to himself at the comparison.

He must have dozed off or something, because he jolted awake at the sharp knock on the door, and Joel's voice coming from just outside of it. “You alright in there Grian? Food’s almost done!”

“Y-yeah!” He called back before even thinking about it, regretting it immediately, voice scratchy. His throat hurt, but he didn't have time to worry about that, fumbling for the shampoo among the other bottles in the shower with him.

He definitely spent too much time just sitting under the water, so he tried to properly clean himself up as quickly as possible, so Joel wouldn't be left waiting. It wasn't long before he was out again, towel around his waist, hair and feathers dripping as he peeked out the door into the rest of the base.

“Joel?” He tried not to speak too loudly, not wanting to irritate his throat more, but he needed the other's attention. It seemed the other wasn't wandering far though, with how quickly he reappeared. “Can you-” He coughed. “Can you bring me clean clothes?”

Joel brightened up the more he spoke, nodding quickly as his tail swished behind him. “Of course! Be right back!” And he was off again.

He was back just as quick, and Grian didn't have the energy to ask him how he managed to find everything so easily, and whether or not his closet was left in decent state. Instead he closed the bathroom door again, pulling on clean clothes and already feeling a bit better. The sweater topped that feeling off, covering him like a security blanket. He shook the water out of his hair and wings before padding out into the main room again, catching a whiff of something that smelled amazing.

“Hey,” Grian's gaze fell on Joel, who was setting up a place for him to sit. “Your hair's a mess still.”

He blushed, shrugging his shoulders. He sat down before Joel even suggested he did, feeling tired.

“I can brush it for you,” he offered, setting down a grilled salmon in front of Grian, whose mouth was watering already. “I've done it for Lizzie before, I promise not to pull.”

“Did you catch this?” Grian asked instead, forcing himself to slow down before he ate the whole thing immediately.

“Borrowed one of your poles, figured you wouldn't mind too much,” Joel explained, setting a steaming mug down in front of him too.

He hummed softly in response, forcing himself to slow down after a couple bites and taking a sip of the tea Joel had made him. Far too sweet.

“I added some extra honey,” either Joel was reading his mind, or he'd made a face without realizing. “Your throat sounded pretty rough, it'll be good for you.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled, truly meaning it, whether it sounded that way or not. Joel was pretty quiet while he finished eating, puttering around the small base, occupying himself. Eventually he finished, pushing the plate away for later, and he heard Joel coming up behind him.

“I found your brush, mind if I take care of your hair?”

Grian sighed, a little smile creeping onto his face. “I guess, you promised not to pull though,” he reminded the other, head tilting back a bit.

“And I meant it!” Joel sounded offended, though he snickered after a second. “It'll help, you'll feel more like a person,” he murmured, and Grian felt him starting to work his fingers through his hair.

“You've been helping a lot already,” Grian admitted softly, relaxing easily into the touch. How long was his hair now? It couldn't be too much longer than he usually kept it.

“Glad to hear,” for once Joel didn't sound smug or full of himself, just genuinely glad. “How long have you been out of it?” The brush started working it's way through his hair.

“Dunno,” Grian mumbled, taking a deep breath. “Since… Since I last went off server,” he felt himself tense a little at the reminder, wings twitching.

“With Scar and Mumbo?” Joel kept his tone even, non-judgemental for once. “They mentioned your eye, was that what happened?”

A hand suddenly flew up to his eye, gently touching the skin near it. “P-part of it. Is it still there?” He'd been avoiding looking in the mirror since.

“Barely,” Joel assured him, and the motion of the brush through his hair started relaxing him again. “I only noticed because I knew to look for it. You said part, what else happened?”

He felt like his throat was closing up, eyes watering a little. “My- my wings,” he managed out, taking a deep breath. “Something happened.”

“Something,” Joel repeated, hands never stopping. “Are they alright? Nothing broken at least? They don't look broken.”

“N-nothing broken,” Grian confirmed, feeling them tremble, just a little. “Don't really wanna-”

“That's fine,” Joel murmured, and it was quiet for a moment. “With me? Or with anyone?”

He didn't know how to answer that, opening his mouth to begin speaking, only to close it when he couldn't think of anything. No, not Joel specifically, but he wasn't sure who, if he would anyone.

“I usually braid Lizzie's hair when I'm done,” Joel said nonchalantly, the brush regretfully leaving Grian's head, “but yours is pretty short. We could try a little ponytail if you want, I think it'd be fun.”

Grian shook his head, reaching for the mug of tea again. Knowing Joel, he'd gather up all the hair in front of his head, pull it all together right on his forehead… Though maybe not today specifically.

There was silence for a bit, comfortable, until Joel decided to speak again. “Would you tell Mumbo?”

Grian froze. Would he? He could. Mumbo knew the kind of stuff he went through when he was young, even if just vaguely. He was scared though, there was always the chance, no matter how small, that Mumbo would scold him when he found out just how deep that rabbit hole went.

“Careful, you'll shatter that,” Joel warned him, moving to take the mug from his white-knuckled hands, setting it down on the table again. Grian hadn't even noticed how tightly he'd been holding onto it. “Not Mumbo then, what about Scar?”

Scar. Scar didn't know any of it. At least, he knew less than Mumbo, he'd have less context clues to put it all together, he'd be reliant on the details Grian told him, and only those.

“... Maybe, I don't know,” he answered honestly, tracing the grain in the table with his finger.

“Maybe is better than no, or trying to shatter a cup of boiling tea all over yourself,” Joel was being dramatic, it wasn't even steaming anymore. “Why don't you take a nap? I'll get him over here in the meantime, I think he'll help, even if you don't tell him.”

Grian hadn't even realized how tired he was again, the thought of a nap sounding much more pleasing to him than it usually would. He didn't even think to argue, nodding as he carefully got up from the table, a yawn escaping him.

“Careful now,” Joel warned, helping him to bed. Grian would have taken offense at that were he not so exhausted, and the second he was laying down again he was out like a light.

[endcrman]

Allostasis

(Chapter 1)

As a general rule of thumb, Grian doesn't do public servers for a multitude of reasons. This one hadn't even made it onto the list.

TW for physical/emotional abuse, implied sexual assault, PTSD symptoms

-

Mumbo was so lucky that Grian liked him as much as he did.

The hustle and bustle of the public server did not do good things to Grian's nerves, too many near brushes with strangers left him pulled in on himself, feathers bristling as he stepped closer and closer to Scar.

And thank the void for Scar.

He'd asked to come along without prompting, something neither Grian nor Mumbo could deny, and now that Mumbo had run off in his excitement to talk with other redstoners, Grian was just glad for the familiar company.

"It really is quite busy here isn't it?" Scar's voice broke through the commotion, relaxing Grian at least a little.

Grian tried to shake the tension from his wings. "I feel like there's not even any breathing room," he joked lightly, hesitating for a moment before gesturing at Scar's chair slightly. "Do you mind if— is it alright if I hold on? Just so we don't get separated."

"You could just hold my hand you know," Scar teased almost instantly.

Grian felt his cheeks starting to turn pink. "Scar, we both know you need your hand to move around, unless you want us stuck going in circles."

"Maybe I want to go in circles, you don't know that."

That made the avian laugh, rolling his eyes a little. "Alright, well, if you really want, we can go in circles. We might get a couple of odd looks though."

He may have actually entertained the other were it not so crowded already, instead opting to hold on to the handle; he allowed Scar to lead the way, vaguely directed by the tugging force of his chair.

"So I heard there were some people here working with practical decor and decorational redstone." Grian could barely hear Scar over the sound of everything else. "I think maybe we could get a kick out of that? Or at least occupy ourselves…"

–

Scar was definitely occupied at the very least, weaving deeper into the crowd to try and get a better look at the display. Grian could only stick around for a couple of minutes before it started getting to him; people bumping into him, elbows in his side, everything just too close.

“Scar, I'm taking a breather,” he warned the other, hopefully calling loudly enough. He waited for a nod from him before letting go, trying to make his way back out to an area just a little emptier.

He was on the outskirts of the crowd when he heard it.

"Gree-on—"

Grian inhaled sharply, suddenly feeling sick to his stomach. The mispronunciation of his name was all too familiar, it had been… a long time since someone had gotten it wrong quite like that. Grian was feeling all too anxious again. He turned, trying to give a polite smile— eyes closed, no need to make eye contact, just apologize and leave.

"Sorry, I think you're mistaking me for someone else," he lied, before quickly turning on his heel to disappear back into the crowd.

Or at least that was what he intended to do, not anticipating the harsh grip on his arm pulling him just around the corner. He yelped, only to quickly be cut off by a hand slapped over his mouth, gaze finally landing on a face that had him shriveling up inside.

"Is that any way to say hi to an old friend?" He spoke far too lightly, tone airy and light. His hand had let go again, seemingly confident that Grian wouldn't throw a fit now that he recognized him.

He was right.

"Sam," Grian breathed, disbelief coursing through him, heart pounding in his chest. He was really regretting stepping away from Scar for even a moment now.

"You're so funny, pretending to be someone else," Sam snickered, shaking his head. "Like everyone doesn't recognize you from that MCC crap now, you're like some kind of micro celebrity."

He swallowed thickly, letting out a half-hearted laugh. "Ha, yeah. Guess I kind of am, I'm not really used to the attention."

Sam only hummed, reaching up and squeezing Grian's cheeks a little, making him wince. "Look at that, you've got a jawline now, looking like a real man after all these years."

Grian grimaced a little, not saying anything in return. Unfortunately, Sam noticed.

"Oh- Come on, Grian, I didn't mean it like that. It was a compliment. You're all grown up now, can't I give my high school sweetheart a compliment?"

A bitter laugh escaped his throat before he could stop it. "High school sweetheart? That's what you're calling it? After everything you put me through? Everything you put us all through?" He still had nightmares about their time together. And the time after too.

Sam's face hardened, and Grian's stomach churned.

"You're always so argumentative," Sam growled, shoving at Grian's shoulders just hard enough for him to jostle against the wall behind him. "Can't you just be thankful for once? I'm trying to catch up with you here, and you're being a real piece of work."

Grian swallowed back the automatic apology, gritting his teeth a little, almost baring them like a dog. "Oh yeah, because you're definitely somebody I need to catch up with."

"You're such a brat, some things never change, I thought you would have grown up by now," Sam scoffed, "you're lucky I even want to get back in touch with you, I kind of forgot how annoying you are."

"Then don't," Grian's feathers ruffled, his wings puffing up, an instinctual intimidation act. "If I'm so difficult, then leave."

Suddenly, Sam's eyes were sparkling, and a cold wave of dread ran through Grian.

"Wait— Those are real?" There was a touch of wonder in his voice. "I thought you were just like, trying to look special or some shit. Where the hell did you get those?"

"None of your business," Grian hissed.

"Let me see them." Sam's hand was grabbing at the feathers before the words even came out of his mouth. "Holy shit."

Grian yelped, pulling his wing out of Sam's grasp immediately. "Don't fucking touch the-" He was quickly cut off by a sudden pounding pain, head throbbing. 

"Don't tell me what to do," Sam growled, pushing on Grian's left shoulder to turn him, pressing his front against the wall. "I want to see them."

Grian gasped as he was moved, feeling lightheaded. His left eye was throbbing. Sam had hit him. 

Sinking against the wall, he felt like he was seventeen again. He couldn't help but tense up once more as the hands returned to his wings. 

"This is so cool, they're beautiful, really. I'd love to look at them all day." Sam's fingers raked through his feathers, causing him to wince in discomfort with every movement. 

"You need to stop being such a baby, you know that? It's not like you haven't touched my ears before," Sam grunted, laughing a little when Grian winced again.

"Grian!"

Grian inhaled sharply, tensing up. He recognized that voice.

It seemed to distract Sam for a moment, loosening his grip ever so slightly. "What the hell?" He mumbled softly.

"Grian!" The voice was louder, closer, looking for him.

"Is that one of your dumb hermit friends?" Sam teased, snickering. "Well he sure did a good job keeping an eye on you."

"Grian, come on! Where'd you go?"

Scar. It was Scar. Grian panicked. He couldn't be seen like this, not in such a vulnerable position, not so easily used.

Sam was distracted enough, Grian could use it to his advantage. He quickly turned, wincing as he felt some feathers plucked from their follicles, but wasted no time in immediately stomping on Sam's toes.

He yelped, pulling away from Grian, feathers scattered between them. Just in time as Scar rounded the corner, Sam was cutting his losses and scampering away, leaving Grian leaning against the wall, breathing a bit heavier than usual.

"Grian?" Scar's voice so close so suddenly made Grian startle, even though he had known the other was coming.

"Scar," Grian croaked, clearing his throat before it came out normally again. "Hey, sorry, didn't mean to lose you like that."

"Are you okay?" One of those questions Grian grew up dreading to hear, for multiple reasons.

"Yeah- yeah, just had to get out of the crowd for a moment," he lied, "all the people were starting to stress me out."

It was scary, how easy it was to lie to his friend, especially with those bright green eyes staring back at him.

"I see," Scar clearly didn't believe him, but he wasn't pushing it either. Maybe he hadn't even seen Sam in the end, Grian could only hope. "Well, Mumbo got what he needed, and we were thinking about heading back, are you ready to go?"

"Yes." The answer was instant. "Yes. Let's go home."

Grian's answer must have been too sure, because even without prompting, Scar gestured for the other to grab hold of his chair. "Let's go then, Mumbo's waiting by the portal," he gave the avian a little smile, "try not to get lost this time?"

It was a joke. Teasing him. Grian's knuckles were turning white from how hard he was holding on, not that Scar could see from this angle. "I'll try not to," he replied as casually as he could.

Carefully weaving through the server, Grian learned to keep his eyes down the third time he thought he saw tall white ears among the crowd, trusting Scar to lead them out. Scar seemed to sense his nervousness, glancing back at him every once in a while to make sure he was still there.

Soon enough, they made it to the world portal, Mumbo grinning and waving them down, one of his arms overflowing with what seemed to be blueprints (redprints?) for new redstone contraptions. Grian almost didn't have to force a smile when he saw the other's excitement, though it quickly turned to shock.

"Grian!" Mumbo gasped softly. "What happened to your eye?"

Scar turned to look as well, pulling his chair out of Grian's light grasp. "Oh void, Grian."

He hesitated before reaching up to touch the skin around his eye and— yeah. Tender to the touch, definitely having turned purple by the others' reactions. It had been a while since he'd been injured like this.

"I tripped," he excused quickly, the memory of a lie easily falling out of his mouth, "I'll be alright."

They were doubting him, he could see it in their eyes.

Mumbo cleared his throat, looking away. "Well, let's get you home. I'm sure we have some healing potions laying around somewhere."

"I'm not—" Grian quickly bit his tongue. He wasn't dying, he didn't need a potion. It'd just be a waste of resources. The voice in the back of his head sounded suspiciously familiar. "It's not that bad," he corrected. It sounded much better than saying he wasn't allowed, especially considering he was allowed, he had been for a while now.

Mumbo and Scar shared an unreadable look between the two of them, and it only made Grian feel even worse.

"Come on— let's go," Grian insisted, suddenly pushing past them towards the portal, determined to just be home already.

–

Grian did not hesitate upon the return to Hermitcraft, world travel sickness be damned. Pluto and cOW were waiting on the other side of the portal, right where they'd been left. Seeing Mumbo struggling with the prints he'd brought back, Grian offered him Pluto's lead, just for now. As soon as he was content that Scar and Mumbo could handle themselves, Grian was off, easily disappearing as the two worked on saddling up.

He didn't trust himself to fly, not with the churning of his stomach, and his feathers didn't feel quite right either, crooked and uncomfortable. So instead he walked. He'd had worse walks before, and so long as he ignored his concerned friends' attempts at checking in on him, he could pretend it was just another day on the server.

Mumbo and Scar wouldn't understand anyways.

His feet hurt by the time he got home, walking around the expo earlier certainly hadn't helped the situation either. His stomach flipped at the thought of the expo again, he never could have anticipated what unfolded there.

The climb up to his base was a bit more of a workout, but Grian couldn't bring himself to straighten out his feathers enough yet to do anything else. Besides, the ache of his muscles was a welcome distraction.

He ignored his comm as it buzzed for the time being, tossing it aside without even looking at it. He just needed some peace and quiet, if anybody truly needed anything from him they could come and get him, otherwise he was going to sit and relax and think about anything except for Sam.

Fuck.

Grian felt dirty. His eye throbbed, he could feel the phantom touch of a hand on his jaw, squeezing too tightly. Trying not to think about it only made it worse, made his head spin as he took a shuddering breath. At least he was wearing his sweater, that meant Sam hadn't actually touched anything but his face, and then his wings of course.

His sweater. His breath caught as he moved to tear it off himself, wincing as it caught on his wings, but not caring enough to stop until it was thrown halfway across the room, away from him. His arm still itched where Sam had grabbed him earlier, but it was better now that the offending fabric was removed, dulled, even if he felt more exposed than before. At least he was alone.

Grian's wings still ached where healthy feathers had been prematurely ripped from their follicles, even more so when he tried to stretch them out, making him inhale sharply from the pain. He'd put off preening until the pain had dulled then, that was the sensible thing to do.

He took a deep breath, moving to his room and closing the curtains before laying down. Everything hurt. He raised a hand to gently press at the new bruise around his eye, startled when his fingers came away wet.

“Oh.” His voice cracked, and then he began to sob.

–

It was dark out when Grian finally felt as though he'd calmed down enough. He sniffled softly, forcing himself out of bed. He at least wanted to wash off his face, and maybe have a cup of tea too.

Grian wet a cloth as the water boiled, careful not to press too hard around his left eye as he wiped away dried tears. He'd have to come up with a better story than what he'd told the others earlier, if he wanted to go out and about on the server before it healed. Something that lined up with what he said already, of course, but more detail.

He was startled out of thought as the kettle began to whistle, and he dropped the cloth in favor of pouring the water into the mug he had prepared. Grian swallowed thickly, watching as it steeped. He hadn't realized just how quickly he had fallen back into old habits, planning out his lies and excuses, coming up with stories for the sake of not only his own image. He felt sick.

Grian didn't bother adding anything else to the tea, grabbing his communicator in his other hand on the way back to his room. He should probably catch up on the server at least, make sure there weren't any emergencies or weird situations that needed his attention.

Grian snorted softly at the thought of an emergency on the server, taking a sip of tea as he began looking over the messages.

There were messages from both Mumbo and Scar, identical in tone, checking in on him throughout the day. Grian's heart squeezed painfully as he read through them. Between the two of them, he'd received plenty of questions about his well being, as well as the usual casual chatting when he hadn't responded right away; Mumbo sharing his new redstone plans and how he was planning to implement them, as well as mentioning he'd brought Pluto home; Scar sending not only photos of the build he was working on but also little jokes here and there. It was comforting, to have just that little sense of normalcy. Grian was sure his own responses were stilted, but he knew that was at least better than ignoring them, especially when they were worried like this.

There were a few messages from other hermits asking if he was available, hours ago of course, and it seemed from his radio silence that they assumed him busy, judging by the lack of pushing at least. Good.

Global chat was normal too, nothing crazy, which was good, Grian wasn't really feeling up to crazy today. He chuckled softly at the thought, it wasn't every day he could say that.

The last thing that caught his eye was a notification from somebody off server. It wasn't unheard of, obviously, Grian had friends on other servers. Lizzie, Martyn, and Scott to name a few. He wasn't ever surprised to hear from any of them.

Grian couldn't have expected this, though.

samgladiator: heyyyyyyyy griannn

samgladiator: it was good seeing you! we should hang out again soon

samgladiator: srry for all the teasing lol u know i was just goofing!

Swallowing thickly, Grian turned off the comm. He set it aside, along with the half drunk mug, feeling numb. Laying down, he stared up at the ceiling until he must have eventually fallen asleep.