Work Text:
5 year anniversaries are odd.
5 years is enough to grow, sometimes to even become an adult.
Yet it is such a short time, not enough time to understand things, or concepts.
This is where Grian, formally Tommyinnit finds himself.
On the cusp of a five year anniversary, of the years of his childhood he doesn't want to remember. Of the people he doesn't want to remember, of the circumstances he wants to forget.
So, not exactly a fun while.
He's spent most of the day building. An activity he never used to do, with friends he never used to have. It was, relaxing to take his mind off the thoughts.
Of course they never lay dormant for long. (Thoughts of nightmares and days of panic fill his head).
This week had been especially bad. With Grian only getting a few hours of sleep.
It's that which lead him here. On the mountain he built with his own hands, an all to familiar jacket on, and a small cake with a candle on his lap.
It's not that he misses the server, no, far from it infact.
He misses the people. Sure some of the sucks, some were down right terrible, but, some of them where, his friends.
"God fucking damnit I miss them." He rubs his hands on his face, tears running down his face.
"Even Wilbur and that guy, sucked." He laughs thinking about starting L'Manburg together.
The rising sun illuminates his mountain, sending golden glows stretching along Boatem. Glimmering off the tears on his face.
"Happy anniversary." he says blowing out the candle.
---
Grian of course, did not take well to the idea of a MCC reunion.
But of course, because he is cursed, he finds himself at it. (not by his on volition of course, Scar wanted to go so badly and wouldn't take no as an answer).
And of course, because he is even more doomed, dr-dre-, that bitch was here.
He's on the other side of the room, alone, scanning the whole room, looking, searching, for what Grian doesn't know. (He already knows but he doesn't want to admit it).
"Scar? Scar we need to go." He says, eyes still on Dream.
"Why so soon? We just got here," Scar follows his eyes, seeing the green clad man starting at them. "Is that, Him?"
Grian just nods keeping his eyes on the bitch, who's now walking towards them. "False! False!" He hears Scar yell.
Grian can't think. There's to much going on, to much. He's on a beach, and everything is burning, everything is one fire and smoky and he can't breathe,
and there a familiar tower in the distance, and a broken house and, he,
He can't, and Dream is there with his axe and he's gonna die he's gonna die he's gonna die,
and he's going into a dark room alone with him, and there's sirens and pain so much pain-
this'll be his last life and he'll be stuck in limbo with Wilbur and Schlatt and please no help him help him help help help,
*Phil!* his voice is hoarse and scratchy and he needs water and he needs *Phil!*
*please no don't let him please!"
"In and out G, you can do it, breath mate."
There's tears in his eye as he sobs out, "Phil?"
"Right here mate." He's pulled into warm, comforting arms, "He's gone don't worry, he wasn't supposed to be here."
His eyes slowly open, and he looks around. A table is flipped, broken in half. False is being bandaged up and Scar is talking to Scott, Jellie purring in his lap. Most everyone has been cleared out of the hall,
"Dream tried to hurt you but your friends saved ya'. He's gone now, Scott perma-banned him."
Grian nods shoving his head back into Phil's chest. Arms and wings curl back around him, "Aw, it's alright mate."
---