Chapter Text
Stress hadn't realized she was screaming when Iskall shook her awake, the Architect looking at her worriedly. Actually - False and Mumbo were there too, so she'd bothered them, hadn't she?
"Sorry," she managed.
Iskall blinked at her. "Are you apologizing for having nightmares?" he asked incredulously.
"...no," Stress said sheepishly, wiping the sweat away from her forehead.
On the other bed over, Cleo was sitting up and yawning, and Stress got the sinking feeling she'd bothered the zombie girl as well.
"I couldn't wake you up," Mumbo said. "I took a shift in here - " Stress opened her mouth, and Mumbo cut her off. " - and I swear, if you tell me that you're a bother and that I didn't have to do that, I will throw you in a TNT cannon." The redstoner hesitated. "Well, okay, not really. But I couldn't sleep because of the current events, and this seemed like a nice place to draw out some of the designs for the swords I'm using."
Stress felt even worse, now, because it was her damn fault that Grian was dead - because she'd opened her big mouth and made the angel queen throw a dagger at her, which in turn her son had sacrificed himself for her.
"Stress."
Stress looked over at Cleo, who had a dangerous look in her eyes. "Don't you dare ," the zombie girl said. "We aren't starting this again."
Iskall, Mumbo, and False all had curious looks in their eyes as they watched the exchange.
"But - " Stress said.
Cleo was out of the bed and grabbing Stress by the shoulders. "It is not your fault . Stop blaming yourself for everything that has happened. Stop telling yourself that you're such a bother to everyone, because you're not ." She gestured wildly at the three other hermits in the room. "Tell me you would've done the same for them."
"Of course," Stress said. "But - "
"And they are doing the same for you," Cleo said. "They are merely being good friends - you aren't a bother to them, or me, or anyone. What happened was not your choice, and trust me when I say that the angels with fucking pay for what they've done." Stress startled when she heard Cleo swear, and pushed her way out of the group on unsteady feet.
"I - um, I have to go to the bathroom," the ice queen said, feeling tears prick at the corner of her eyes as the backed out of the room.
"What was that about?" she heard Iskall ask Cleo.
"She blames herself for Grian's death," she heard the zombie girl say, but there was no disgust in her voice, only sadness. "And it's tearing her apart."
Stress sobbed as she ran through the halls, dodging down tunnels in the new bunker that had been made while she'd been in the Aether, trying to avoid the other hermits as tears splashed down her face and onto the cool concrete ground, leaving water in her wake as she ran.
It was her fault.
It was all her fault.
If only she'd flown faster, she'd have been able to get out of the angels' grip seventeen days ago. If only she wasn't so damn useless at flying - if only, if only, if only. If only she hadn't tried to contact the hermits on the other end of the video screen, saying the words that Cleo and Grian couldn't say out loud. If only she hadn't shut the world out during those days in captivity, and the angel queen would've silenced her too, and Grian would still be alive. If only she hadn't just stood there like an absolute fool while Grian jumped in front of her. If only she'd just died like she was supposed to, and then the builder would still be alive.
"Stress?"
Stress looked up at the voice of Mumbo, who was standing at the end of the hallway from where she'd collided into the wall and had just sat down on the floor after that, clutching her knees to her chest. "I'm sorry," she choked out. "I'm so, so sorry - "
Mumbo smiled sorrowfully as he walked over and sat down near her, his elytra resting against the wall. "Now, I'm not Cleo," he said gently. "But I believe she would've wanted me to shake you silly until you understood that it's not your fault that...that...he's dead. Nobody is blaming you."
" I'm blaming me," Stress said with a sniffle.
"You shouldn't," Mumbo said, stressing the last word. "Stress, if it were your fault, I wouldn't be mad at you, unless it was on purpose. Was it on purpose?"
"No."
"Exactly," Mumbo said. "Grian did what he thought was best, the stupid, reckless fool. You would've done the same for him. Any one of us would've done the same for each other. Grian made a choice, and we all have to honor that choice, damn the consequences. That's not saying I won't yell at his spirit for the decision, because there were probably better ways of going around it - but if he were to stand here, you wouldn't be here, and then I bet that Grian would be blaming himself because he had the opportunity to save you and didn't take it."
"Yell at his spirit?" Stress asked, raising her eyebrows, wiping at the tears that slid down her face.
Mumbo laughed. "Yeah - he told me that if he died early he'd haunt me forever." His smile faded. "It was a joke, but I guess...that joke came to pass." Mumbo leaned his head back against the wall. "It's odd, remembering him in his red sweater and grey jeans and his contagious laugh and his stupid pranks - absolutely stupid - and his unfinished base, knowing that he won't ever pop up and say hello to you again, even though you can picture it so clearly, and sometimes you wake up with a prank on the edge of your tongue, and you want to go prank him, but reality sinks in..."
"And you realize he's well and truly gone," Stress said in a soft voice.
Mumbo sighed, and Stress finally saw the exhaustion that lay in the redstoner, the bags that lay under his eyes, the way his hands shifted as he played with his red tie. "Mumbo...when was the last time you slept?"
Mumbo stared at the opposite wall guiltily. "I suppose it's a bit like you," he said after a moment. "I'm afraid to sleep because I'm haunted by my memories of him, and I wake up laughing or crying because he's always so vibrant and real in my dreams...but he's dead and gone." Mumbo rubbed a hand through his hair. "And I'm trying to get better at PVP so I can fight the angels for him, because I'm absolute rubbish at PVP, unlike Iskall, or False, or Wels, or even Grian, who was all over the place but at least he knew the basics, and I feel as if I'm more a burden than a help in this war, but Xisuma needs every person available."
"I know how you feel," Stress said softly. "I feel as if I'm bothering everyone by making them look after me, but they keep telling me they're not bothered in the slightest, but something in me is telling me that they are bothered and refuse to tell me." She sighed. "I know it's stupid...but I've never been particularly good at PVP either, but I also know that I'm going to have to fight." Her hands went to the collar around her neck. "Not that they'll let me out of the bunker anyway."
Mumbo eyed her. "You have a point there," the redstoner muttered. "Sorry, Stress, but that collar means PermaDeath if you die up there from a creeper or a zombie, or even from falling in a ravine. The Jurassic Plains
will be different because everyone will only have one life...but now, we need to get the collars off." He waves a hand to stop Stress from talking as she opened her mouth. "And stop saying that you wouldn't want to bother anyone. We need to know more about angel technology anyway. You know what they say - 'Know your enemy and know yourself and you can fight a hundred battles without disaster.'"
"We only need to fight one battle," Stress pointed out.
Mumbo laughed. "Yeah. Right. That's going to be hard enough. There are few of us, and many of them."
"But we have the element of surprise," Stress pointed out.
"Which reminds me," Mumbo said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a communicator decorated in drawings of ice. "Your communicator is the only one that surprised. X is configuring Cleo's right now, but I thought..."
"Thanks," Stress said, taking the communicator and signing in using her fingerprint. The device felt familiar under her fingertips; normal - homely.
|Stressmonster101| hey guys i fink i got my communicator working again ;)
|Zedaph| YEAHHHH!!!! :D
|impulsesv| Hello Stress!
|Tango| On behalf of my group, ZIT welcomes you back!
|Falsesymmetry| yeah sorry Tango but I'm pretty sure nobody here wants any zits; but I have some moisturizing cream if you want it heh
|Tango| ...
|Falsesymmetry| that was for the 'false alarm' pun :P
|joehillssays| Welcome home, Stress.
Stress smiled as she typed, feeling more at home than ever, and finally ignored the aching pit in her stomach that told her to run and not look back, that way she wouldn't be a bother anymore.
|Stressmonster101| Thanks guys