Archive of Our Own ^beta

He heard the explosion loud and clear. Grian may have been too close. The blast had pushed him onto his knees, his ears ringing, his head aching. Maybe a scratch on his face. Nonetheless, a cheeky grin was painted on his chapped lips, dimples and all. With a hand to his forehead, he opened his hazel eyes, more green than brown. The smoke engulfed the area around him, hiding the tall trees and other green and yellow lives from view. The smoke silently slipping into his lungs and ash landing on his brown and white feathered wings. His red jumper, pale skin, and dirty blond hair soaked in soot. He coughed.

Grian was excited to see his reaction. He had decided to prank Scar by sneaking a creeper up behind him. A harmless prank of course, as he knew Scar was too resilient to succumb to such a disastrous fate. And Grian, though he would never admit it, admired that about him. Scars ability to live despite all odds. (Maybe he wanted to test him.)

He cringed as his grin fell for a moment.

He ignored the thought.

As the smoke began to clear, Grian let out an airy laugh and rose back to his feet, dusting his knees. He'd half expected Scar to begin laughing too. Oh, that laugh he does. It was contagious. Maybe Scar would even push him roughly as he always does when Grian was being a bit of a pesk. Grian would push back of course, and they'd end up in harmless brawl in the sand. They'd finally part from one another and begin laughing and laughing, oxygen struggling to enter their lungs. Their hands close yet so far apart. And they'd pretend like they weren't reaching for one another as their giggles died down.

Hm.

The elongated silence pulled Grian from his fantasies. He realised It was.. quiet. Too quiet. Quiet enough that you could hear the oak leaves shake from the wind. The sound of the flowers dancing with one another. The faraway sticks breaking at the animals trecking around the forest. He shivered. His grin is pulled into a pout. The audience surrounding them hadn't even uttered a word. Huh. Weird. Why wasn't Scar saying anything? It's not like he actually died. It's Scar, for crying out loud. Out of curiosity, and definitely not panicky fear, Grian looked down to his wrist where the wristcom hugged his wrist. And his heart dropped.

Scar died.

He had killed him.

Scar had died by Grians hands. Scar had been reduced to atoms. Reduced to nothing. Instead of laughter, ash had filled his lungs. He had been lit aflame. And now he was going through even more excruciating pain that comes with a rebirth. And Grian couldn't save him. And it's his fault. (It's Grians fault. It's his fault. It's his fault. It's his fau–)

Grians legs shook. He hunched over with his hands hugging his chest in an attempt to steady himself in front of the crater caused by the creeper. Caused by him. The creeper that killed Scar. How Grian killed Scar.

It wasn't working.

He was vomiting now. His vision was blurring. Tears were threatening to escape his wide eyes. He tries to ignore the sight of a mix of green and yellow lives to no avail. Some where laughing. Others where arguing. A few simply ogling. One was taking their leave, seemingly bored. He blinkes the tears away. This cannot be happening. This isn't real. This isn't happening. He glanced at his wristcom once again for confirmation and god did everything in him ache upon seeing both the death message and his new status.

Scar was red. He was a red life.

Tears continue to fall from his eyes. He thinks he hears himself screaming. Grian was on his knees now, still hunched over as his body shook. He was overwhelmed. He couldn't breath. He thinks he's near hyperventilating at this point. How pathetic. And Grian hopes Scar doesn't hate him. He is by no means religious but for him he'd pray. So he does. Grian keels over and slaps his hands together. And he prays. (And Grian prays that hes okay. Please be okay. Please don't hate me. I still owe you.)

It's quiet again. Everyone else seems to have left. He doesn't lift his head to confirm. Grian would too, if he's being honest. Showing any type of emotion in this game was basically a death sentence. He's gotten weak. Maybe thats okay, his brain offers. Part of him thinks he should be afraid of Scar. After all, he's a red life now. But somewhere in him knows he isn't afraid. He's still his best friend. Maybe more. Maybe something in between. It doesn't matter. He would welcome a gruesome death from Scar. He hopes thats whats coming for him. He deserves it. He would do anything for him. Grian knows it. So why would he let himself do this? Do this to Scar? This was no prank. This was a genuine attempt on Scars life. A cruel one, at that. (And the worst part is Grian enjoyed it. Deep down, after seeing Scars death message, he was enjoying it.)

Something is wrong with him.

"Grian." A rough voice spoke, startling Grian from his thoughts. His wings flinched. How did he not hear them approach? He was loosing himself. Grian slowly turned away from the crater Scar had been at, at what seems just moments ago, and saw a pair of legs infront of him. The smoke had dissipated. The sky had grown darker, the sun teetering on the edge of the sky. How long had Grian been here? His throat and lungs felt torn. His body ached. His wings disheveled. His heart burned. Before he could succumb to his thoughts any longer, the voice rang again. This time, he looked up to meet the voices eyes.

"Can.. Can we still be friends?" The voice asked hesitently, an arrangement of both poppies and lilacs in his outstretched scarred and tan hands.

Grian hesitantly met the eyes of the voice. It was Scar. God, it was him! The other Greens and Yellows had probably fled, seeing as there was a Red life in their presence. Glee soared through his veins until he realized Scars hands were visibly shaking. That was his fault. He did that. He, Grian. He caused Scar pain. He's probably just come from his rebirth. Grian nearly flinches at the thought of the pain he's in. And yet. He's here. Grian searched his eyes for any murderous or traitorous intent. He found.. nothing of the sort. This was strange. Unusual. This isn't how the game goes. This has to be some sort of trick. He's going to kill you. He's going to kill me. He's– (And I would be okay with that. I would welcome the blood of mine to splatter by his hands.)

"..I—" God, his voice was more hoarse than he'd thought.

Grian, finally coming to what was left of his senses, his shoulders and wings relaxed. All of his fears and anxieties had vanished. Scar didn't hate him. God, Scar still didn't hate him. How could he not hate him? He guesses it doesn't matter. Grian can still be there with Scar. They can still win. They would change the way of the game. And they would do it together. Even if it's fake, Grian doesn't care. Even if it's all a ruse to kill Grian, he doesn't care. As long as Scar is happy. (He would follow Scar till the edge of the earth. Till His feet burned and callused. Till he could no longer walk, but crawl. He would kill for him. For Scar.)

He decides he will be selfish. He'll indulge on his desires just a bit. Grian let a smile slip on to his tear stained feathered face. His wings perked up as if they'd come back to life.

"..I– Of course." He paused, letting out a airy laugh, "Scar, I still owe you my first life, yes."

Scars eyes seem to search Grians face. For what, he doesn't know. But that's okay. Grian was doing the same. Grian looked at him all over, as if trying to paint him to memory. Faint freckles littered Scars face. He had a scar in the shape of an X in the middle of his face, stretching from his cheeks to his forehead. His shirtless skin glistening in the sunset. Scars littered his arms and neck. Grian cringed at the new scar on Scars chest. His hair as dark brown as ever. His facial hair growing wildly. His eyes were.. red now, but Grian thinks red suits him. And Then Scar meets his eyes.

Scar crinkles his eyes in a smile and Grian matches it.

–

They'll be okay, Grian thinks, as they ride back to Monopoly Mountain on Pizza the llama. They've got eachother. And their monopoly of sand, of course.

Grian hugs Scar from behind. Scar, ever so slightly, leans into the touch. Grian smiles and his wings shake in joy, heart racing. This is all he wants for the rest of his life. To be by Scars side. He hopes and prays Scar wishes the same fate for them. Right now, the life game doesn't matter. The deaths on their hands doesn't matter. Nothing else is real. It is only them in the vast desert. They're happy.

They're happy, Scar offers his hand to Grian as he hops off of Pizza.

They're happy, Scar doesn't let go of Grians hand and leads him inside their home.

They're happy, they lay with one another on the roof watching the stars.

They're happy, Grian holds Scar and Scar holds Grian in return.

They're happy, They give each other quick kisses through fits of giggles.

They're happy.

And They'll be okay.

(And in the cactus ring, they will have faught one on one. Fist to fist. Bodies pricked with cacti needles. Sand stained with each others blood. The same blood pouring from god knows where. And theres nothing but what can be described as want and yearn in both their teary eyes.

They would scream to one another, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Im sorry.

And it would end with Grian cradling Scars beaten face with the hands, his fists at fault. And Scar would lean into him and kiss his palm.

And Scar would usher out his last words, out of his last breath,

"Thank you."

And then he was gone.

And Grian would quietly stand, tears spilling out of his eyes. And he would slowly walk to the edge of the sandy cliff.

And he would jump.)