The Breaking Point of a God

by grey_cat_crozzing

Summary:

Watchers were supposed to be worshipped. It’s their source of powers as minor deities, after all.

Grian, who wanted nothing more than to forget his Watcher past, was quite happy not to be worshipped at all. So when the Hermits collectively started praying to Xelqua and Grian started to gain a lot of Watcher magic, it put a real damper on his mood, health, self-perception and his relationships. With Mumbo gone off-world, it was now up to Scar, Pearl and Xisuma to worry about him – if Grian would let them. But Grian was nothing if not stubborn. He’d get through this alone, right?

..Right?

Notes:

• Inspired by Worship by Miss_Purr

Basically I read Worship by Miss_Purr a couple dozen times and still I couldn’t get it out of my head for days. The idea to make Purr’s one shot into a multi-chaptered, more angsty story had so much potential and grew in my head to become this monster and so I just had to write it down.

I have amazing news for you all! Amazing 72_Blue is turning this fic into a podfic here on AO3! You can find it here!

Feel free to share my spacer images or use them in your own non-profit works as long as you credit me. Either by grey_cat_crozzing on AO3 or simply by Ozeanpelz works. Have fun!

Chapter 1: Prologue - Stagnancy

Grian had never been worshipped, not in the way that Watchers were supposed to be worshipped. 

It was a simple principle, really, that determined a deity’s power: The more prayers one would get, the more powerful they would become. The less prayers one would get, the more humanoid they’d stay. It was one of the main reasons the Watchers even bothered to mingle with Player worlds, making sure people remembered them. Making sure that they would stay powerful, that They could keep up their ignorant, decadent lifestyle. It seemed ironic to Grian, that the powers They used to control Players were so dependent on those same Players’ beliefs.

Then again, the Watchers had always had double standards.

Grian had figured that his lack of worship was why he was able to escape easily enough. He was weak enough to slip under the radar, just powerless enough that he wasn’t of any real use to the Watchers other than to exercise Their control over those beings weaker than Them. Oh, of course, he knew he would’ve ruffled a lot of feathers when They finally noticed he had up and left, but They knew he was too weak to be a threat to Them, so why bother chasing after him?

Grian liked his reasoning. It made him feel weaker, more like a Player.

And so Grian did what he could to stay under the radar. Sure, he heard a few prayers here and there. They would call him by his Watcher Name, Xelqua, and ask for strength and protection. He never answered them, never even Looked their way if he could help it. Still, he was able to figure out a lot about them from their prayers alone. Mostly it was the misfits and runaways who looked to him, Players who were steadily on the move and hadn’t yet carved out a place for themselves, who would move on to different places and start praying to different gods soon enough. 

He would gladly send them off with a smile and secretly wish them good luck for their future.

Only a couple of believers ever stuck around.

Surprisingly enough, Xisuma was a common voice among them, and oh, had Grian been awkward when he first heard his future Admin’s voice outside of his own head. He had come to associate the power of X’s many small and exasperated prayers with a slight drizzle of rain, steady, sometimes annoying, but generally unobtrusive. At first glance, that picture did not seem to fit with the serious, armour-clad figure of the man in front of him.

In all honesty, had they been alone, that first time they met, Grian would have probably turned around and walked away right then and there. 

Instead he had been scooped up into a hug by Mumbo and dragged along to celebrate his invitation to the Hermitcraft Server.

Even after he got used to living in close proximity to one of his believers, which had made him startle at first, always checking over his shoulder to see if X was talking out loud to him or if he had only heard the man’s voice in his mind, he’d still been anxious for months that calling Xisuma by his name would somehow give himself away.

Now, though, years later, as Grian soared over the current World of Hermitcraft, his home, his safe space, where he was able to live as just another Player and surrounded by many wonderful people, he only smiled whenever he heard his Admin’s voice praying to him, softly wishing for strength whenever their friends broke bedrock or built world-lagging machines. 

Grian, of course, kept as tight a grip on his meagre Watcher powers as he ever had, but if sometimes he left some of Xisuma’s hard-to-get favourite tea in his base after days where the Admin’s patience was particularly tested, well, nobody was ever supposed to find out.

If one were to ask him, Grian would say things were going perfectly, especially now that he had been able to rekindle his old friendship with Pearl and get in contact with a bunch of his old crew, the Evolutionists. 

Granted, from time to time he would be swamped by guilt for living a terrible lie, what with them never talking about what happened in their time apart, but Grian preferred not to dwell on it. He would block any and all conversations that were drifting too close to the times in between him running the Evo Server and joining Hermitcraft, telling himself that the others, too, must still hurt from those events, so clearly he was doing everyone a favour. Him rushing to slay the ender dragon alone first thing in Season Eight had nothing to do with his past, he was just setting up a game, no matter the worried looks Pearl sent him. 

And it wasn’t like he was going to start doing Watcher things either – he was a Player on this Server, alright? He had even picked up adminning again for the Life Games.

Grian smiled as he thought back to the first meetings of the Third Life players, to how moved he’d been when Jimmy, BigB and Martyn had shown up all friendly and excited to join. How full his heart was as he realised they still trusted him to be an adequate Admin even after the absolute trainwreck that was Evo. 

Pearl had told him over and over again, during the planning phase of her joining Hermitcraft, that she would have loved to join as well if she hadn’t been so involved in other projects at the time. Grian had just smiled, but he had struggled to believe her until she signed up for Last Life.

For some reason he could not fathom, Grian had been forgiven by his old friends. 

They didn’t know the whole story though.

His life was going quite well recently, Grian thought as he swooped in low and landed in the middle of Boatem. He had the Hermits, his family, around him at all times, Mumbo at his side, sweet, understanding Mumbo, and a massive reciprocated crush on Scar that sent tingles down his spine at the thought of Scar’s pretty, lopsided grin.

His flock, distant memories would whisper, but he set them aside before he could reminisce on all he had lost. Watchers didn’t have flocks.

He would be quite content if life continued like this. That didn’t mean he had gotten rid of the horrible tension of keeping secrets from his friends though, the guilt or the self-hate. It did mean, however, that bad days were rare.

Even as the moon started getting bigger and bigger in the sky, doubts whispering in his mind that he could help if he truly wanted to, that he could manipulate the code and find out what was wrong with this world, Grian would simply swallow, tune out the voices in his head and let himself get distracted by the antics of his friends. And if he found himself checking his reflection from time to time like he’d often done at the beginning of Season Six, breathing in relief when he saw himself, with parrot wings and black eyes, staring back at him – well, he didn’t mind people believing him to be vain.

He closed his eyes and feigned a yawn as a prayer made his eyes glow oddly purple and sent prickling power through his body, then shook himself off, tucked his wings close to his back and continued on his way home.

The moon seemed to span half the sky now, rising menacingly behind the Midnight Alley. Grian forced down his goosebumps and glared up at it, the sign of unerring change, of another season coming to an end. He was well aware that this relative peace couldn’t last forever – but he could at least act like it would.

After all, if Grian was good at anything, it was being stubborn.

Notes:

Okay, I'm a little nervous to start posting this. I've been working on this fic for about a month now and I've just finished editing the first three chapters. It isn't beta-read as of yet, so if you find any mistakes, please point them out to me. I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 2: Chapter One - Faith

It was just after Season Eight had ended when Gem brought up the topic of deities. Now, Grian was of course aware that it was pure luck he’d gotten three whole seasons without talking about anything regarding faith and religion, but that didn’t mean he felt any more prepared for it to happen now.

They were all sitting around a tall bonfire at the gravelly riverbank of what would become their Season Nine Spawn area. Some Hermits were chatting or playing card games, others were huddled together for warmth against the fresh late-winter breeze. From where Grian was sitting, close to Scar and leaning on Mumbo, who was chatting with Iskall and animatedly discussing some redstone thing or another, Grian had a direct view of Zedaph’s attempts of creating a perfectly roasted marshmallow. 

Tomorrow morning, they would begin the season and head off to the unknown areas of this world, each Hermit building their individual bases and leaving their marks on this untouched world. Today, though, as was their ritual, they would spend the night relaxing and talking among each other. It was a beautiful evening and as the sun set and a regularly sized moon rose high up in the sky, a thousand new, bright stars shimmered over their heads.

'Do you think there are any star gods out there?' Gem asked. She was laid on her back, staring up into the sky with Pearl and Impulse by her side. Grian knew, even though he could barely see her from all the way over where he was sitting, how Pearl instantly went stiff beside Gem. 

His wings twitched. He sat up straighter.

Watchers weren’t usually associated with star symbols, more the void between them, but Grian could still guess where her mind went. At a different time, on a different Server, Grian had spent many nights together with Pearl, lying under the stars with their friends, talking and laughing, trying to forget the celestial beings that Watched their every step. 

Grian blinked, memories of the last pre-Season bonfire invading, of the first time he’d seen Pearl in person since before, of them clinging to each other the whole night, both afraid that if they’d let go, they might lose each other again. He turned his head down and away from the night sky. It was hard enough trying not to expect a big, menacing moon whenever he looked up – he really didn’t want to deal with this as well.

'Somewhere out there, maybe', Xisuma hummed and only then did Grian remember that Gem had actually asked a question. 'There are so, so many different beliefs out there across worlds and Servers, and all those ideas are at least somewhat rooted in reality. So who can say if there are some deities in connection with the stars out there?' 

Grian smiled at X’s diplomatic answer, slowly allowing himself to relax again until he met Pearl’s dark gaze as she sat up to grab a marshmallow.

'One could argue that Pearl is a moon goddess', he spoke up, surprising even himself with the joke as he held her gaze and grinned lightly. 'I mean, have you seen her beauty?' 

Pearl rolled her eyes at his flattery and tossed her marshmallow at him, but her lips twitched into a tiny smile. She knew what he was up to, distracting her, but Grian didn’t mind at all. 'Oh please, if I were a moon goddess I wouldn’t have let the moon hit all of us', she huffed good-naturedly, then stiffened for a second, unsure if it was still too early for that kind of comment. But as the rest of the group seemed unbothered, Pearl relaxed again and raised her eyebrow at Grian to follow up her sentence: 'I’d have made it only hit you instead.' That earned her a couple chuckles. 

Grian was just about ready to take the taunt and move on when Doc interrupted from way too close to him. 'Wait, are you saying actual gods exist out there?' He sounded sceptical, like the scientist he was, but he looked directly at Xisuma when he asked it and Grian, oh, Grian knew very well who and what his Admin believed in.

'That probably depends on your definition of a god, but what I do know for sure is that there is a higher power out there watching us', Xisuma answered, unaware of the anguish in Grian’s chest, 'They’re called the Watchers, as on the nose as that is. They have a lot of power over pure code, so you’ll often hear about them helping with administrative duties, like world updates. The Voidwalkers usually grow up worshipping them as part of our culture. There’s a whole Pantheon of Watchers, but it’s quite common to choose one individual Watcher for your patron.'

'And you have faith in these Watchers?'

By now, their conversation had gained the attention of quite a few Hermits, murmuring their own thoughts. 

'I do. I chose a specific Watcher to follow and have been doing so for years.' Xisuma seemed a little bashful, admitting something this personal. He shifted uncomfortably as silence spread around the bonfire for a second, everyone pausing in their personal conversations to acknowledge what X had just revealed. Grian didn’t dare to breathe, didn’t dare to open his eyes – and when had he closed them? 

'So do They really exist?' That was Scar speaking right to his side. 'No, wait, that sounded more disrespectful than it was meant. You see, I personally grew up in a society that believed the Vex elders to be the highest authority in the universe, and I’ve stopped believing that whole shabang a while ago, so… I don’t really know what I’m supposed to believe in.'

It was Tango who spoke up next. 'I’ve heard of the Watchers before. I’ve got to admit, I never really cared to learn about different cultures’ belief systems, but I could have sworn we talked about Them in history lessons.' As he had grown up in the Nether, Tango would have had a culturally different education from most other Hermits. Still, he sounded somewhat bewildered, but Xisuma only nodded. 

'I’m sure you did–', Xisuma began, but was interrupted by Pearl. Grian nearly flinched at the cold tone of her voice.

'Oh, They exist alright. Putting Them on a pedestal and praying to Them, though, that’s questionable. The ones I met were nothing short of monsters… They were all about making life that much harder for us. Void, They were kidnapping people!'

As silence spread around the bonfire, everybody now attentive as the mood changed from light-hearted to freezing, Grian shrank even further into himself. He did manage to open his eyes though, a morbid interest in seeing Xisuma’s reaction as he watched the flames dancing in the reflection of X’s visor. It was hard to read Xisuma’s emotions beside the surprise shown in his posture. Was he shocked to hear somebody talk negatively about his deities? No, if he’d had a religious upbringing, Xisuma must have heard some of the darker parts of Watcher history before. 

Grian’s tense staring was interrupted by Impulse moving to place a cautious hand on Pearl’s shoulder. She seemed to crumble a bit before taking a deep breath and reaching out for Impulse’s hand. 

For a few ticks, Grian almost panicked, unsure of just how much she’d told her new Hermit friends, if they had talked about her past.

If they had talked about him.

'You’ve had personal experience with these Watchers, then?', Impulse asked, softly. 

'I... yeah.', Pearl started, glancing up and catching Grian’s gaze. She was asking for silent permission, he knew, gauging how much of the story she was allowed to tell. Next to him, Grian noticed Scar turning to look at him as well, and cursed Scar for being so observant. Grian only stared back at Pearl, ignoring Scar’s hand on the small of his back petting him in small and calming movements, until she gave in and turned back towards Impulse. 

'The two Watchers I’ve met, on one of my old Servers, They were nosy and cruel. They did help us update, I’ll give them that.' She chuckled, and it sounded halfway like a hiccup. 'But They would make up rules and riddles for us and when we wouldn’t play Their stupid little games anymore…' she paused. 'In the end, They took away our Admin and tried to keep the rest of us hostage on the Server. We managed to escape after a while, but that’s... That’s the gist of it, at least.' She shuddered and Impulse moved closer to envelop her in a hug. Gem, too, reached over to touch her soothingly.

In the few seconds it took for the Hermits to process all of that, Grian took a deep breath and willed himself to relax. Pearl didn’t expose his past, Scar’s reassuring touches were kind of distracting and there was still the comforting weight of Mumbo at his side. Grian reached for Mumbo’s hand to intertwine them, hoping to balance himself with the safety of being in the presence of all these people he considered his home.

His flock.

'I’m so sorry', Xisuma offered in a tone so sincere that for a tick, Grian could nearly believe he was included in that apology. He knew, logically, that X didn’t know of his involvement in the least, but still it felt good somehow, the confirmation that there was no harm intended in X bringing up his beliefs. 'I didn’t mean to bring up painful memories. I wish it wasn’t true, but I’ve heard many stories of how some Watchers rule servers by fear. It’s… the very least I can do is to assure you that I would never follow someone this cruel – or anyone who could pose a threat to this Server.'

'Who is dat guy you believe in then, Shashwammy?', Keralis tugged on X’s arm softly to get his attention, then looked back over to Pearl. 'If it’s alright with you to continue this topic, of course?' When Pearl mumbled her okay, Keralis turned back to Xisuma with his wide eyes sparkling at the chance to learn something new about his partner. X ducked his head awkwardly, but there was a smile in his voice as he spoke next. Grian averted his gaze, just in case Xisuma was going to say His Name, his heart pounding uncomfortably in his chest.

'The Watcher I chose as my patron, well, some don’t even consider Him a Watcher at all, really. I picked Xelqua, the Runaway.' Grian tried not to shiver as the sound of His Name ran down his spine and gave his eyes a purple glow. He found that he’d closed his eyes out of pure reflex.

'And yes, like His title suggests, He ran away from His home with the Watchers. It is said that he felt like a misfit in Their society, so He ran away and carved His own life. He is said to be fiercely protective of His friends and everyone He cares for. Xelqua’s story, to me, means hope, freedom and change.'

That... Grian did not know what to think. It was a highly abridged version of his story, of course, but this was what X thought of him… Grian felt honoured, somewhat, and he was glad that the heat of the bonfire hid the rising blush on his face. On the other hand, the way X had spoken so reverently brought with it a feeling of power bounding through Grian’s veins that he decidedly did not like. It was alright, though, Grian thought, after all it was still just Xisuma and his soft, steady worship. So he took another deep breath to steady his heart and focused on his control. 

'I mean, if the guy ran from the Watchers, we’ve got that in common at least.' Grian was relieved to hear Pearl’s voice more steady again, even trying for lighthearted. Her joke fell flat, but it certainly helped ease some of the tension that had spread among the Hermits. 

'I think I’ve heard you mutter that name before', Tango said, prompting a couple nods and affirmative murmurs from other Hermits, 'but I’ve never heard the name in connection to the Watchers. I’m guessing Xelqua must be one of the younger... or less known Watchers, at least.' Again, the sound of His Name sent shivers of magic through Grians body and he nearly missed Tango asking Xisuma to teach him more about his faith sometime. By now, he had to consciously work to stay in control, his wings fighting to change their colour and skin itching under the rough wool of his sweater. Grian could practically feel the other Hermits thinking about him. A couple of murmured expressions of interest from them just proved him right, cemented by the fact that Xisuma seemed a little overwhelmed.

'I– I’ll tell you all about Him and the Watchers if you really want me to, it’s just… I don’t usually talk about my faith. It’ll be a challenge to be sure, and you might learn quite a bit about Voidwalker culture on the side, but I really don’t want you to feel obligated to feign interest or anything of the sort…'

It was Pearl who sealed his fate, finally. And as much as Grian knew and hoped that she would be able to move on and heal, he couldn’t help the envy that viciously stabbed his heart and made his breath stutter as her words registered with him: 'Honestly, I don’t know much about Watchers except what they did to us – me and the rest of my Server. After all that, I just never felt like dealing with Them ever again, but... if you want to share your knowledge, X, maybe learning about this Xelqua fellow will be good for me, give me some closure or whatever.'

And then, because the reminder that she could move on while Grian had to continue hiding wasn’t enough, Pearl looked over at him, searching for confirmation that she was doing the right thing. It made him feel sick.

Scar’s hand stilled on Grian’s back.

Grian didn’t even attempt a smile as he shrugged, hoping that his voice sounded steadier than he felt. 'Sure, could be interesting. I mean, what did you say, X – this dude represents the misfits and runaways?' He waited for Xisuma’s nod before continuing, 'That doesn’t sound too bad to me.'

And, really, maybe this was his own fault. Maybe he should have stayed silent instead of endorsing the idea of Xisuma spreading the word about his faith. But it made Pearl smile, so Grian bit his lip and tried to convince himself that it wouldn’t be too bad as he heard other Hermits agreeing in much cheerier voices, interspersed with some jokes about found family and of them being a group of misfits. He even heard Ren letting out a good-natured wolf-y howl. 

Nothing better to lift their spirits more than reminding their rag-tag, ever growing group of the home they had found in each other.

'Well, I do like to imagine that Xelqua would be a great fit for the Hermitcraft Server', Xisuma admitted, laughing.

Grian was in so much trouble.

Notes:

Why is Gem the one bringing it up? Idk, ask Miss_Purr :)
I also can't take any credit for the Pearl-being-a-moon-goddess joke, that's on Purr as well. After that is where our stories finally start to differ, though. It's getting angsty, y'all!

Again, this hasn't been beta read, so feel free to point out mistakes.
I'll try to update this fic at least twice a week. Hopefully I can keep up with than speed, but to be honest, I have to stick to it or else I'll lose motivation and never finish it, like the other two dozen drafts on my laptop.

Chapter 3: Chapter Two - Worry

Xisuma was a silent believer usually. He was calm and collected, even when he prayed for patience, and kept his prayers short and in his head. It was easy for Grian to filter him out as some sort of background noise, like a calm, steady drizzle of rain. Today was different, though, and X had started the morning off with a spoken prayer, seeing as a bunch of Hermits seemed genuinely interested. 

Gem and Bdubs even tried to add their own, clumsy prayers for the season start all at the same time. 

The wave of power had hit him like a Tsunami. Their overlapping voices in his head gave Grian a headache.

Season Nine started with more magic than Grian ever had before, last night’s energy still thrumming in his blood. He hadn’t been able to sleep at all, every time he’d lay down his heart would beat loudly in his chest and remind him of all the close calls and how there would be many more if Xisuma truly started giving lessons on Watcher history. The idea made Grian restless, made him feel like his skin was too small for him, like he was less of a Player and more of a Watcher. 

He quickly found out that respawning didn’t help against Watcher-related aches.

Scar was worried about him. He saw it in the way Scar would keep watching him closely, how he would search out his gaze and smile purposefully.

Grian tried to shake it off by teasing him.

Teaming up with Mumbo to make Scar respawn over and over was hilarious and it also had the side effect of making sure that Scar had no time to worry about Grian. As the three of them laughed about it, Grian finally found himself relaxing a little. Their easy banter filled his ears as he focused on mining the ore blocks in front of him, leaving his thoughts to drift even as he regularly checked his control.

Somewhere close, Grian heard Scar stammer to come up with a sea shanty, followed by yelps as neither he nor Mumbo noticed where they were heading and ended up swimming in lava. Grian huffed a surprised laugh as he went over to inspect if there were any items left to pick up for his boys.

His boys.

He and Scar had grown a lot closer during the Life Games, and yet Grian still wasn’t used to the way that Scar was just casually affectionate, even after the memories of deserts and boiling bloodlust had long faded. It was just like Scar, really, to give out his love easily and unconditionally – and they would need to talk about what it meant for them soon. To Grian, who had spent years not letting people in too close, letting himself love Scar seemed daunting.

Sure, he had Mumbo, awkward and oblivious Mumbo, who was easy to be around. Scar was different, he was charismatic and insightful and hard to hide from. Mumbo was safe, he was Home, but Scar was enticing and just as precious.

Grian just hated that Scar could tell when he wasn’t fine.

'So, pretty bird, what are your plans for the season?', Scar asked him later, his worry forgotten, as they re-emerged from their mining expedition. Grian blushed at the nickname and shrugged, then ducked his head with a smile as Scar took the chance to tell him all about his own plans of settling close by and creating a lush, thriving elven kingdom. It sounded absolutely stunning.

'I’ll share a secret with you, okay?' Scar looked over with a conspiratory grin. 'Whenever I create magical-looking builds, I weave some of my own magic into it. It’s those little details that make a build really come to life, don’t you think?'

Grian looked up, surprised, and met Scar’s smirk with a blinding smile of his own. 'Scar, you’re a genius!', he exclaimed, laughing, as his mind raced to connect the pieces. Scar’s gorgeous magical village in Season seven, the way the air there always hummed with energy. Beautiful, creative Scar using his innate vex magic to build a living, thriving piece of art. 

It was a great idea, an easy fix, to use magic for building, now that Grian thought about it.

And think about it he did, over the coming days, when the name Xelqua got thrown around the Server over and over again. Faith had become a hot topic with the Hermits ever since the Season began – and Grian was going to go mad if this continued. Every mention of His Name made his eyes glow eerily, made power churn in his gut and his head pound faintly.

On the bad days, a burning ache flared up in Grian’s lower back.

And so The Entity was born, a breathing creature, maybe not fully living just yet, made entirely out of stone, tuff and moss. Grian tried to be subtle about its use of magic at first, not wanting to prompt any questioning, but then he remembered his time machine from way back in Season Six.

That was the first and only time he had used his Watcher magic after joining Hermitcraft and it had almost ended in disaster, Doc getting nosy and the Hippies all stuck in a Beta version.

Nobody had even batted an eye at the thought of a working time machine, so certainly no Hermit would wonder at a living piece of stone.

Pearl laughed at him for literally living under a rock.

He didn’t see too much of her, at first, even though she had based right across the river from him. She was busy building and having fun with Impulse and Gem, so maybe the tension between them was only in Grian’s head, but he had to make sure things weren’t becoming awkward between them. He was so incredibly relieved when she retaliated against his prank by building a small army of robots out of the cod heads he’d spread all over her starter house… and then she brought up the inevitable. 'So X has been asking around on whether people really want to learn more about Them.'

Grian didn’t have to ask who she’d meant. His mouth went dry. He absentmindedly rubbed his lower back as he answered her, not looking her in the eyes. 'You should go. If you think this’ll help you heal, you should give it a chance.'

'And you?'

'I’d rather not.'

Pearl remained quiet. Grian took another breath to steel himself before he looked up to face her searching gaze.

'Okay', she finally sighed. 'Okay. Just…' she broke off again, shaking her head. 'I hope you know that we’re all here for you. None of it was your fault.'

Grian swallowed harshly. 'I know', he said, and tried to believe it.

They were still alive. They were safe.

He squared his shoulders and gave Pearl a tiny smile. 'Now, are you going to help me clean up this mess?'

Xisuma came by just a bit later to personally invite him to the Watcher lessons.

Naive, innocent Xisuma, who heard Xelqua’s story and saw hope instead of despair, who somehow confused a life of hiding with freedom – and really, where had he even heard that story, certainly the Watchers wouldn’t endorse this kind of narrative – who walked up to Grian with a friendly smile and invited him to listen to stories about the beings he despised.

'I remember you saying that learning more about them could be interesting, so I thought maybe you’d want to come by as well', Xisuma told him casually. 

Right, it wasn’t Xisuma’s fault that people were interested in broadening their knowledge. Grian had stoked those fires himself.

The block Grian was holding clattered to the ground.

'Oh… yeah, well, no. I mean, it’ll be… interesting, for sure', Grian just reiterated his earlier words, trying not to panic. 'But I’m already busy. Some other time, maybe?' Grian took a step backwards, forcing a smile as he looked at Xisuma’s helmet rather than his face behind the glass. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. 'Sorry, I’ve got to go', he choked out before spreading his wings and heading off at top speed.

Behind him, he could faintly hear Xisuma calling after him as he headed out of audible range: 'Grian, wait! The times for the meetings…!' Grian barely heard him over his own pulse rushing in his ears. Only after he had passed the clouds and taken a few deep breaths did the words register with him, making him grimace.

A fleeting glance downwards showed him Xisuma, still standing in the same spot, looking up at where Grian had disappeared, a worried frown on his face.

Should he even be able to see this far?

Grian cursed himself. 

All he seemed to do lately was to make people worry.

Notes:

Thank you all so much for all your comments, they make me unbelievably happy <3

Chapter 4: Chapter Three - Guilt

Mumbo Jumbo was leaving.

Now, of course, Mumbo travelling off-Server wasn’t related to Grian at all. In fact, Grian had done his absolute darndest so far to appear normal. He’d still hang out with his favourite Hermits, pull pranks on them and he’d even been on the case of organising this year’s April Fools game. No, if Mumbo had known Grian wasn’t doing well, he would have stayed. Grian had reasoned with himself over and over again as he helped Mumbo pack, but it didn’t help the horrible empty feeling in his gut as he bid him goodbye with a kiss to the forehead that Mumbo had to lean down for, chuckling. 

Grian didn’t go to see him off at the portal, mumbling something about being busy. He felt way too unstable to face Xisuma right now.

He felt quite terrible about avoiding X. And yet, he couldn’t help the feeling that Xisuma was the root of all his troubles, somehow. He was the most loyal and devout follower Grian ever had. He was the one who had taken to teaching the Hermits about Xelqua – and quite successfully, really, as more Hermits started praying to him.

Keralis was one of the first to pray to Him, asking Xelqua to take good care of Xisuma’s faith, together with Bdubs and Gem, who had taken to their new religion like fish to water. Then Tango’s voice joined the cacophony in his head, followed by Impulse. 

Grian stopped keeping track around the time Scar started praying to him.

It just about gave Grian a heart attack every time he heard a new voice in his head, tugging at his magic. Not only could he feel the power flowing into him, making his skin itchy and growing faster than he could find an outlet for it, but he had almost constant headaches now, rarely having even just one silent evening and sometimes barely managing to filter out the prayers enough to follow the conversations he was a part of.

He recently started to experiment with nature magic and grew a tree on the Entity, then added magic-infused cogs and gears.

It wasn’t enough. 

Grian heard every single prayer. Every request, every thanks, every cussing His Name when something went wrong made his eyes glow, made him fight his control to not attempt to rush out and See, to Watch his devout, made the power in him churn and pound against his carefully constructed walls. Grian couldn’t concentrate and it made him irritable and short-tempered.

It felt terrible to think about how he snapped at Tango about their shared Raid Farm project just a day prior, how he kept messing up their light-hearted conversations, how he couldn’t keep eye contact anymore in fear that somebody would pray.

Honestly, the whole situation sucked.

And there was no end in sight.

Whenever Grian hoped that the Hermits would lose interest, forget all about Xelqua and this new trend of praying to a Watcher deity, something new would happen and catch him off guard.

Once, he heard Gem let out such a complicated, absolutely un-Hermit-like curse of His Name that Grian stumbled over his own feet in surprise.

Another time, Grian nearly got himself knocked out by the Ghasts that had been set free around his base in his hurry to escape Doc striking up a conversation on whether Watchers could possibly be more powerful than the Developer Doc had lost his arm to years ago.

Developers were so much more powerful than even the most worshipped Watcher.

He tried not to think about the danger Doc had been in, picking fights with a Developer and not even recognizing the all-encompassing, code-bending power in front of him for what it truly was.

Scar stuck close to him, keen eyes setting Grian on edge. That man could gnaw at a problem with the same tenacity and stubbornness that Grian had. Sure, he was easy to distract momentarily, switching between his personas in mere seconds, but the way he would always circle back around to the issue at hand made Grian shiver uneasily. Scar reminded him of a bloodhound, sometimes, and Grian had to consciously remind himself that the Vex were predators, no matter how sunny and easy-going Scar appeared.

'Well, hello there!' Grian would have been startled if he hadn’t Seen Scar approach from behind him. Lately, he had developed an annoying hyper-awareness of his surroundings that he knew was his Watcher magic bleeding out into the world, the code around him. So instead, Grian dropped his hand from the aching spot at his lower back and turned to greet Scar with as much of a smile as he was able to dredge up, only to find Scar looking down at him worriedly, the crease between his eyebrows belying his smile. 'Is your back hurting again?', Scar asked.

'How did you guess?'

Scar put his large, cool hand on Grian’s back, right where the pain radiated from, where Grian had unconsciously rubbed at to relieve the uncomfortable pressure, and Grian had to fight to keep in a hiss at the unexpected touch. 'Well, pretty bird, it’s kind of hard to miss, with how you keep rubbing your back. I could offer you a massage, if you’d like?'

And Grian was tense and so, so tired, so why not. Scar had offered, after all, and Grian shoved down his guilt about his ratty behaviour as of late and nodded to Scar with a grateful smile. Maybe he could just lay down for a while and close his eyes, focus on nothing but himself and Scar. Keep his eyes closed, not worry about being seen.

Or so he hoped as he followed Scar up into his tree, listening to the King of his Elven Kingdom animatedly describing his adventures searching for his dear cat Jellie.

'She still hasn’t been seen by anyone on the Server?', Grian asked softly.

He could find her easily if he just Looked, his mind supplied. 

'No… but she’ll show up eventually, she’s a big girl!' Scar hummed, sounding unbothered as he put away his cane and sat on the edge of his bed. 'Go on, songbird, get comfortable. This bed right here is the best one I’ve built yet, I promise we’ll have you relaxing in no time.' Grian complied wordlessly, shrugging off his sweater and laying down on his stomach.

The bed really was comfortable and the way it smelled of Scar reminded Grian of the time they’d shared a base, a home on Third Life. A nest, his avian instincts would have helpfully provided if he’d still had those. He could still pretend he had them, though, and the blush on his cheeks at the notion of nest was honest.

'Just remember to–', Grian started, but fell silent as Scar shushed him and, with a smile in his voice, finished the sentence for him: 'Do not touch your wings, I know. Don’t you worry, I remember it.'

They were quiet for a while as Scar worked his strong, steady hands on Grian’s back. It was late in the day, nobody had sent a prayer to him in a short while and Grian was truly starting to relax. His mind was starting to drift, thinking of what he could do to thank Scar, so it took him a moment to realise that he had been spoken to.

'You’re tense as obsidian, G, and it’s been getting worse ever since the season started. You really should come by my mattress store sometime, I’ll help you pick one that supports your back. That way you can relieve some of the strain, at least.'

Grian smiled lazily at Scar’s caring tone. 'Shameless plug for your shop', he teased and chuckled as Scar made a mock-affronted noise. 

'I kind of wish it was that easy.'

'It’s complicated, then? What, are you in the process of growing a second pair of wings?'

Too close. Scar was uncannily close to the truth. And oh, Grian had said too much already. For just a tic, he has felt so safe, so well cared for that he hadn’t thought, hadn’t triple-checked the words that left his mouth. He could feel himself tense beneath Scar’s hands, but Scar just laughed, too caught up in his own idea.

'Actually, now that I think about it, that would be kind of amayzin!'

It really wouldn’t. Not only did growing new wings hurt like blazes’ fire, a change in wing structure also meant completely re-learning how to fly.

Grian’s heart was pounding loudly in his ears, his eyes shut tightly.

'Like, could you imagine just waking up with another pair of wings?', Scar continued in his light and excited tone, like it was of no importance.

It was just a joke to Scar after all.

Grian’s breath hitched. 'I can imagine just fine, Scar, thank you. Waking up and finding your body modified really isn’t the fun you make out to be. You weren’t the one who had to talk Mumbo out of a panic attack last season when he spontaneously turned into a potato, did you? ', he spat defensively.

The hands on his back stilled.

He regretted it instantly. Actually, he regretted a whole lot of his snappy behaviour, recently. Scar deserved better.

'Sorry, I shouldn’t have shouted at you. I know you were only trying to make a joke.'

Scar moved, shifted his weight on the bed. Grian kept his eyes firmly closed.

'It’s alright. I hit a sensitive topic there, didn’t I?'

'You didn’t know.'

Scar just hummed again. 'It’s fine, don’t you worry. You’re going through a lot, I get it.'

What do you think you get, Grian thought, unconvinced.

'I know how much you miss Mumbo, Grian, and I also know what creative block feels like. You keep staring at the ground around your builds as if you want to tear them down again block by block. You stopped taking the time to visit and look at other people’s builds, just rush past them like everybody’s offended you. And that’s not even counting the hours you’ve spent just standing and staring at the copper wall surrounding Mumbo’s base.'

And there it was, an easy out. All Grian had to do was play along and tell Scar that he was right, that he’d found the correct solution to the problem he had been pondering over.

The problem that was Grian.

It made him feel sick, deep in his stomach.

He really shouldn’t have come here today, shouldn’t have given in to the lovely promise of Scar taking care of him, shouldn’t have thought he was able to run from his own bad moods. 

Grian was a liability to Scar’s, no, to all the Hermits’ happiness.

'Maybe you should take a break', Scar suggested quietly.

Grian swallowed and pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes until they stung.

'Yeah. You’re right. I’m going to take better care of myself, I promise.'

What was one more lie in the big picture?

Chapter 5: Chapter Four - Cracks

Summary:

Grian: Everthing is fine!
Mumbo: Oooooooh new religion? Count me in!
Grian: EVERYTHING IS NOT FINE
(Chapter Summary by GoodtimeWithcats208)

Grian was alone the first time his control cracked.

Not that that was anything special, really. He had spent a lot of time alone lately, using the excuse of extensive mining trips deep under the earth – which truly wasn’t a great place for an Avian to be at any time. Lately, though, as his body didn’t seem to fit him just right, he had become almost claustrophobic. 

At least he couldn’t let his bad mood out on his friends as long as he was down here.

More Hermits had started praying to him recently, so by now Grian had a constant headache during the days, only getting a short reprieve during the night, when his worshippers slept. There were patterns forming now, as people integrated their new religion into their everyday life. Knowing when to expect prayers was… easier, socially, but Grian hated how the anticipation made him feel like he was getting used to being worshipped. 

It irritated him to no end and upset his stomach.

Some days it was easier to let the voices and pictures blend into background static, magic sloshing into him like ocean waves against the beach – other days, not so much. 

Grian was aware of a creeper wandering silently through a cave system a couple blocks above him, could See two skeletons so vividly he could almost imagine hearing them, even before they came into auditable range.

The loud clangs of his pickaxe grated on his ears and amplified the pounding in his head.

If he could, Grian would silence the whole world. Maybe he should ask Xisuma if it was possible to place the silence_me datapack on his tools. Only he would have to talk to Xisuma for that, and Grian still had not seen the man around since his hasty retreat weeks ago. More than that, it was easy to blame Xisuma, sometimes, when Grian felt particularly helpless against the foreign feeling of magic crawling under his skin, even when he logically knew that X was not at fault. No, if anyone, Grian should blame the Watchers, but that path only led down into a rabbit hole of hate and self-depreciation, so instead Grian hefted his pickaxe again and tried to keep his focus in the present.

His back was aching again and Grian tried to convince himself that it was from hours of mining rather than hiding a couple of extra wings.

And then Mumbo, blessed Mumbo, somewhere in the wide multiverse, called out to Xelqua. 

Really, Grian should have expected it. Between Mumbo looking up to Xisuma and his easy-going approach to religion in general – the guy had invented his own moon cult just last Season – it was a surprise he hadn’t taken to worshipping Xelqua weeks ago. And yet, with Mumbo being off-world and not visiting Xisuma’s lessons, Grian had let himself be lulled into a false sense of security.

It must have been something important, or maybe not, maybe it was something absolutely trivial, Grian wasn’t able to discern the words as much as he just noticed the sounds when he startled out of focus, felt the magic flowing into him and spilling over his battered walls of control. His vision splintered into a thousand individual shards. The tiny cave seemed to shrink even further as Grian’s senses expanded until he could see Mumbo clearly, standing on a grassy hill in an unknown world. 

Grian gasped for air, shutting his eyes as more opened around them, covering his face, his skin, Watching to the faraway corners of the Server and beyond. He could see so much, reach so far and Grian knew that if he tried, the code of the world would be right at his fingertips. He didn’t know where to look first, what to focus on, only that there was too much information for him to ever contain. It clogged his senses, made his head swim and his eyes sting even though they were closed. Flashes of worlds raced across his thoughts without order, all of them vanishing quickly to make space for others. 

Mumbo’s picture was long gone by the time Grian managed to reign in his awareness enough to remember what had just occurred. He heard his own wheezing, panicked breaths, and as he tried to focus on his body, his Sight shifted to show himself – no, not himself. All he could See was three pairs of large, void-colored wings wrapped tightly around his body. Xelqua, then.

He was Looking at Xelqua.

Distantly, Grian thought as he struggled for breath that it ought to be weirder, seeing his true features again. This form was everything he hated and more, and yet it looked just as broken as he felt. Which made sense, he supposed, and it sounded hysterical even inside his brain, because this was him. 

Maybe one day he would be able to feel compassion for this Being again.

Grian continued to stare at Him – at Xelqua – for another while, and all he could feel was pain and terror and hate for everything the figure before him represented.

Why was He here?

A prayer, Grian remembered. For all that knowledge he had at his fingertips right now, for all the power, his memories seemed fuzzy. Nothing seemed to make sense. He knew he’d had a headache just a while ago and he knew that a panic attack like he was having right now should aggravate it, but he could feel no pain at all.

This wasn’t helping.

Help – the Hermits were always willing to lend a helping hand with projects. As soon as he’d finished the thought, nonsensical as the connection seemed to him in this situation, Grian let out a choked bird-like screech as his vision scattered all over the Server, seeking out his friends. 

Iskall had just dropped by where Gem and Stress were working on excavating their Guardian farm, still giggling about the April Fools Prank that Joe had pulled on them a couple days ago.

Jevin and Bdubs had met up by chance and were telling each other all about their misadventures of the day. Grian thought he remembered curses and prayers asking for more patience in dealing with Villagers and Armour Stands respectively.

Xisuma was tiling the floor outside his base with infinite patience.

Zedaph and Scar were in the nether, hunting for Zedvancements.

Oh, Scar had just died.

Of course he had.

Scar, who had spent hours over hours by his side lately. Who was steadily worried, even while Grian stubbornly ignored that there was anything to worry about. Grian didn’t understand why, but Scar seemed convinced to stay by Grian’s side and keep him company. 

Scar, who enthusiastically high-fived Zedaph, breaking out into giggles as he checked his communicator.

It was uncomfortable, really, and Grian knew he was hurting Scar by keeping him at an arm’s length. He knew that he shouldn’t be pushing Scar away, not when all he wanted to do was cling to being a Player, being just your regular cocky avian, and it might have worked if Scar wasn’t, well, Scar. Scatterbrained and clumsy, but incredibly empathetic and always positive Scar.

Well, Grian thought sardonically, it’s not like it would matter as long as he didn’t manage to sort himself out. He couldn’t be a Hermit as long as he – as his body looked like this.

It didn’t matter anyways because his whole existence was a lie.

No, something in his memories reminded him, giving up was not an option. He would not let Them break him, could not let Them win.

After all, Grian was nothing if not stubborn. He would find a way out of this, like he’d always done.

Grian took a deep breath. Then another one. He brought His hands to His face, the touch grounding him in His body as he slowly, steadily, closed each and every one of his eyes.

His knees hurt and, oh, he might have fallen, then. With small movements, Grian leaned against the nearest wall, Deepslate, cold, tucking his legs into his chest and continuing to focus on his breathing. It seemed loud and heavy to his ears. 

There was a torch not far from him, he could feel its heat along his skin.

Grian didn’t know how long he sat there before he felt stable enough to open his two eyes and stare into the half-dark, empty cave. His heart was still hammering in his chest, a high-pitched tinnitus sound bringing back his headache tenfold. 

He swallowed.

He’d nearly lost himself right there.

He had to get rid of this magic before it could consume whatever was left of his control.

So Grian plucked a single discoloured, pitch-black feather out of his wings and built the Rift.

Notes:

You may have noticed little spacer images appearing in this chapter, I've added them to all previous chapters as well. Do you like them?
This is also the last chapter I’ve had on backlog. I said I was going to update twice a week but I was so euphoric about all your amazing feedback and nice comments that I posted more like every second day, so, yeah. I’m out of backlogged chapters now, I hope I can keep up!

Chapter 6: Chapter Five - Distance

Summary:

Grian: Yay! I'm more player now!
Pearl: Xelqua save my bestie
Grian: ABORT ABORT
(Chapter Summary by GoodtimeWithcats208)

Notes:

CW: Brief mention of suicidal ideation-adjacent thoughts in the striked-through lines (feel free to skip the striked-through lines on this chapter <3); Brief mention of vomit at the end of the chapter.

Grian poured all of his magic into the Rift, every single bit he could muster, letting it rip through space and time barely constrained. It might’ve been dangerous, sure, but at least he’d thought to build it underground. 

When he was done, he collapsed right there at the bottom of his beacon.

He respawned on his bed some time later. It was dark outside already. His items had long despawned, but at least it was quiet, now that most of his fellow Hermits were deeply asleep. 

He felt so wonderfully devoid of Watcher magic, so unbelievably Player. Grian knew, in this very moment, that he wouldn’t know which of the Hermits were still awake even if he tried. He was tired, so tired, but he hadn’t felt this free in weeks. 

So what if he was grinning at the ceiling of his base like a lunatic? It had worked, he’d gotten rid of all this magic he had stowed in his tiny, avian body. Well, temporarily, of course, but he was free of it for at least a couple hours until the Server woke up. And he felt like making use of his time, his short, borrowed time, as he took off into the night sky, stretching his wings, sharpening his senses against the cool wind. 

He took the scenic route around the Server, gliding on the wind, checking out all kinds of new buildings that had popped up lately, that he just hadn’t found the energy to appreciate until now. While he had been holed up and wallowing, his friends’ buildings had grown impressively. 

Grian was thoroughly fascinated as he circled over the Spawn area.

With his limited Player senses, he didn’t feel the presence of another person until she spoke. 'Hi Griba!' Grian let out a high-pitched, bird-like shriek as he flinched away from Pearl, red macaw wings flapping wildly to regain his balance mid-air. 

'Pearl! You scared me!', he laughed, his voice shrill from shock.

Had he any magic left, he might have lost his control right there.

Pearl chuckled as she fell into pace beside him, iridescent moth wings reflecting the moonlight. 'Sorry, sorry. Why’re you up at this hour of the night – it's quite late for you, isn't it?' Grian shot her a pouty glare in response, focusing on calming his breathing. Pearl rolled her eyes right back at him with a smile. 'Well, if you’re not heading off to bed just yet, I could always show you around my base? Just let me get breakfast first and then I’ll show you all about what you’ve been missing out on. I cultivated a couple really fancy alien plants that you’re going to love!' 

Well, why not, Grian thought as he nodded to Pearl. It’s not like he had anything better planned and he was in a good mood to joke with his old friend for a bit, no Watcher-related troubles straying his mind. 

Although... 

'Let’s race!' And Grian was off, Pearl sputtering and laughing behind him as she got a late start.

Morning came way too fast. 

Grian and Pearl had spent the night giggling, gently shoving each other along the paths of Pearl’s base and sitting on the bouncy grass on her lawn. They had laughed and joked and relaxed in each other’s presence, neither willing to leave even as the night progressed into the early morning hours. Not even the first morning prayers managed to dim Grian’s good mood as he closed his eyes and leaned on Pearl.

After all, no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t really roll his eyes and complain to Pearl about how Cleo had taken to begging him for more sleep when they woke up too early. So he wouldn’t think too hard about it. 

This was enough.

They were silent now, watching the sky brighten towards a new day. 'Void, it’s nearly sunrise', Pearl finally stated, quietly. 'and you haven’t gotten a single tick of sleep yet.'

Grian waved her off tiredly. 'I don’t care, I don’t need that much sleep anyways.' That was a lie, he felt like he could sleep for a week at least.

He wouldn’t need sleep at all if he weren’t repressing his powers.

Pearl, too, looked like she didn’t fully believe him, but she didn’t call him out on it. Instead, they continued watching the sunrise until she spoke again, a wistful tone to her voice. 'I’ve missed this. Us, just hanging out and chatting the night away like we used to do.' Back then, she didn’t say, but for once Grian didn’t mind being reminded of Evo. She turned to stretch her back and shot Grian a quick smile. 'It’s good to have you back, brother.'

Warm affection bloomed in Grian’s chest. 'I missed you too.' 

Pearl’s smile grew at his words and she nodded. But then, 'I’m glad we’re finally moving on. It’s… ever since I joined Hermitcraft, there’s always been this uncomfortable tension where we were both walking on eggshells, trying not to mention Evo.'

Ah. There it was again.

Was it really too much to ask for just one conversation to not end with him thinking of the Watchers?

The sun had fully risen by now, but Grian didn’t look away even as it burned his eyes.

He was so unbelievably tired.

'It’s you, not we.'

'Oh?'

'You’re moving on. Healing. And I’m glad, I really am, it’s amazing to see you being happy and open and honest. I just don’t think the same can be said about me… yet.' That last word sat heavy on his tongue, like he couldn’t really believe in it.

When Pearl stayed silent, Grian finally sighed and turned so that he could see her. Pearl’s eyes were shining and he couldn’t say if it was the sun or if she was close to tears as she looked at him with a sympathetic grimace and pulled him in for a hug.

By the time Pearl and Grian let go of each other, the sky was bright enough to be considered daytime again. Pearl sniffled just once, before smiling at Grian. 'Thank you for telling me this.'

I haven’t told you anything, though, Grian thought.

'And… this is just a suggestion, of course, but have you thought about talking to Xisuma?'

Grian just about flinched at that, and Pearl seemed to deflate a little even as she continued on.

'I just think that, you know, as a fellow Admin, he’ll probably best understand how you feel out of all of us. He knows what it’s like to be responsible for a large group of Players and he has impressive knowledge of the Watchers, really.' She paused. 'I think for me that was a big turning point, just understanding why they did what they did, how Their twisted logic worked and–' 

Twisted.

Insane, dangerous, unhinged.

The Watchers were twisted.

Grian was twisted.

'Let me stop you right there', Grian took Pearl’s hand, not fully knowing if he was trying to comfort her or himself. She gripped his hand tightly, looking like there was an apology already on her lips. 

'I know you mean well, Pearl, really, and I can’t say enough how glad I am if you can make your peace with what happened. I support that, I truly do. But it’s different for me. I already know how the Watchers think, how Their society works. And in my case, it only made me despise Them more.'

Pearl’s eyes had gone wide as he talked, his voice surprisingly calm. Grian couldn’t help but scoop her up in another quick hug. 'You couldn’t know what I’ve seen, but... Pearl, when They took me – I fled as soon as I was able and I never looked back.' 

It felt like a lie even as he said it. He would never be able to leave Them behind completely. They had made sure of that by making him one of Them. 

'If you asked me, any connection we have to the Watchers is one too many. Please.' His mouth was dry as he let her go, gripped her shoulders to keep her at an arm’s length. Still, something in Pearl’s gaze prompted him to open his mouth again, unsure what he was even going to say – only to snap it closed and avert his eyes so fast it nearly gave him whiplash.

It was Doc who’d called out to Him this time, making a habit of cursing Xelqua’s name every time one of his prototypes exploded on him.

Grian swallowed, his throat dry. When he finally looked up again, the look on Pearl’s face made him nauseous. The worry and the pity and the tentative hope were enough to turn his stomach, surely, but the worst part was the trust he saw in her gaze. 

How could she trust him, when he couldn’t even explain what had happened to him, when he was just leaving her a cryptic breadcrumb trail of information? 

How could she trust him, as if he hadn’t just been a tick away from giving himself away as one of the Them, the Beings who haunted them all for so long?

He couldn’t breathe.

Grian tried to smile as he quickly stammered that he had reconsidered and would try to get some sleep now, but it couldn’t have reached his eyes.

Pearl let him go anyways, wishing him a good sleep with a face that said she was sorry for pushing the topic.

As if it were her fault.

Pearl deserved more, she deserved all the kindness in the world and so much more, but he knew that if he didn’t leave now, he would break down right in front of her. So he planted a light, familiar kiss on her worry-creased forehead before he turned around and leaped into the air.

His light mood from earlier had long gone as Grian gasped for breath against the wind.

He wasn’t lying when he said he despised the Watchers, but even more he hated with a burning passion what They had made of him.

A traitor, a liar, a danger, a liability.

No amount of self-delusion would ever change the fact that he was technically one of Them. Part of the System, whether he wanted it or not. 

He might have fled their company, hidden away as a Player on a Server full of other odd, strong personalities, but if the last months had taught him anything, it was that he could never flee from the power they bestowed upon him. It made him want to reach into his chest and claw out his Watcher coding. 

If he could, he would kill Xelqua without a second thought. 

And oh, Beef was thanking him, he had caught himself just in time before destroying unlocked map art.

Grian couldn’t find it in himself to be happy for Beef as he tucked his arms tightly around himself and did a sharp turn in the sky to reach the entrance of his starter base.

He had just barely landed when he heard Pearl’s voice in his head. His knees buckled. 

It was the first time she’d prayed to him. 

Xelqua, she asked clumsily, sounding unsure, if you could please take care of my good friend Grian? I worry about him. He’s had some bad things happen to him and I think he’s still suffering from it, even though he left that place… In a way, he’s a bit like you.

Grian wanted to shout, wanted to be mad at her, wanted to be able to fight back. Instead, he only felt her calm voice, her compassion flow into him and fill him with sticky, magical, Watcher-flavoured power.

He was sick. As he bounded over to the nearest empty bucket, his head swimming and eyes starting to water, he thought, for the first time, that he might not make it out of this with his sanity intact. If all Watchers had to deal with this kind of mental torture of knowing too much, of Seeing history run in circles, he thought, maybe it’s no wonder they all turned out so crooked.

After all, that’s what had broken Taurtis.

And as he wondered if this was what it took for him to finally be broken, he had never hated himself more.

Notes:

I promised a break for ya boi. He got a whole night of break time. Half a chapter worth. Now, back to torturing him...
Also, I can‘t believe it took me this long to notice I was using three different kinds of quotation marks and none of them british – because my tablet runs US english, my laptop runs german, my phone can‘t do typographic quotation marks at all and Google Docs is not smart. Fr tho, I wonder if anyone noticed or if it‘s just my perfectionism speaking. Anyways I changed the quotation marks and ran an actual british grammar check now. All past chapters are updated with it.

Chapter 7: Chapter Six - Avoidance

Notes:

CW: Brief mention of the smell of vomit at the start of the chapter.

Scar found him later that day.

Scar, who he had been in a limbo of flirting-while-keeping-distance with since the season began. Scar, who stubbornly checked in with Grian, even though there was no way he didn’t notice the tension – most likely he felt like he had already overstayed his welcome. Scar, who had long stopped peppering compliments and pet names throughout their conversation. And yet for some reason Scar still waited patiently for Grian to voice his thoughts, to either let him in or push him away for good.

Scar deserved better than him.

Grian was sure he looked like a mess. He had chucked a regeneration potion as soon as he was sure that he could keep it down, the empty bottle having rolled off somewhere as he sat, leaning against his bedframe. The sickly smell of vomit still drifted through the open room of his base.

'I really don’t have the energy right now, Scar', Gian warned, his eyes still closed. He got no reaction. Grian groaned and pried his eyes open just in time to see Scar land outside his door and to notice his awareness had gotten away from him again.

Had Scar even heard him? Judging by the unrestrained worry on his face as he entered, Scar either hadn’t heard or didn’t care as he came rushing towards Grian, a distressed Vex noise building in the back of his throat. 'Grian! Void below, are you alright?' 

Grian heard more than saw Scar’s cane clatter to the ground as he kneeled in front of him, grasping his hands lightly. Scar would never believe that he was fine if he attempted that lie.

Surprisingly, even though he felt like crying, his eyes were dry. Had he cried earlier? He couldn’t remember. There was a lot that he couldn’t remember, actually, like how long he had been sitting there. It was way past noon, judging from the light that fell in through the windows. He must have been dissociating until the approaching presence had kicked him back into reality. 

Ah, Scar was still waiting for an answer.

'No', Grian’s voice sounded thick, 'but regen has been kicking in.' And really, that was the truth for once. Partially, at least. His stomach had calmed down almost completely and he managed to stop shivering a while ago. 

In fact, the potion even seemed to be helping his pounding headache.

Huh. Maybe he should stock up on regeneration potions.

When Scar hummed comfortingly and sat down next to him, close enough for their bodies to touch, Grian, against his better judgement, felt himself lean into him. The heat of Scar’s body next to his felt so, so good – Grian hadn’t even noticed how cold he had been. But most importantly, Scar had believed him for now. 

A hand started threading through the feathers on his back, right where his wings began, and Grian startled a bit before sighing and relaxing into the touch. Of course Scar knew just where to pet to make Grian putty in his hands. With all this chaos in his brain, Grian had nearly forgotten just how much Scar knew about him, how close they’d gotten in Third Life. 

How twisted his mind had to be, that he was thinking of the Life Games as a simpler, happier time.

He could just about feel Scar’s smile as Grian allowed himself to lean more of his weight on the taller man.

Finally, when Grian had stopped feeling cold, when his heartbeat was back to normal – still avian, beating faster than Scar’s by far, but they were both used to that – Scar spoke, softly, as to not spook Grian. 'I should call somebody to check your health status.'

Grian tensed. 'That won’t be needed, thank you.' He sounded clipped and formal even to his own ears, this wouldn’t do. 

Grian would find excuses to keep people away from his code at the best of days, but now, with all this Watcher magic flowing through his veins? Anybody would know something was up even if they had no prior knowledge about Watchers. They’d have no choice but to tell Xisuma about the oddity they just found.

Somewhere on the server, Tango did his prayer and Grian flinched, averted his eyes so that Scar wouldn’t see them light up purple.

'I just got a couple bad hits to the stomach when I was fighting mobs earlier, I’ll be fine', Grian stammered, struggling to keep track of the conversation over his instincts screaming, pounding against his control to let go and Watch Tango.

Scar just sighed.

Was he unnerved? Was he worried?

Would he finally have had enough?

'Have you been thinking about that break you promised to take?'

'What?', Grian asked, dumbfounded at the non-sequitur.

'A break, Grian! Just do something different, you know, something non-Hermitcraft-related. Try something new, get your inspiration back.'

Ah, right. Grian remembered that conversation now. He had not, in fact, thought about taking a break. 

'Scar, we just did a Hardcore challenge before this season, remember?' Grian couldn’t help but roll his eyes and chuckle softly as Scar paused, blinked, as if he was only just remembering that. Well, he did miss out on some of it, to be fair.

Scar’s hand, the one he wasn’t still holding, went back to carding through the base of Grian’s wings.

And because of course it hadn’t been enough just yet, because apparently it was a bad day today, Cleo cursed Xelqua’s name and pleaded for more patience.

'Still, the Season’s been going for a couple months now. And you have no obligation to spend all your time here, you know?' Scar spoke so softly that Grian could barely hear him over Cleo’s angry rant in his head. He had just barely managed to close his eyes in time before Scar could see the purple flash in them.

Scar had been looking right at him.

Panic bubbled in his chest.

'Grian?', Scar asked, barely audible over the static that built in his ears.

There had been too many close calls with prayers today.

Grian looked down to where he still held one of Scar’s hands, keeping his expression under a mask as tight as the control on his magic.

It reminded him of another mask, white, crescent shaped and with the symbol of a broken portal frame. That, too, had helped him hide his emotions once.

'Yeah, sorry, you’re probably right. I just... I think I’ll head out to the shops real quick, I need another regen potion.' 

Scar quickly tucked his hands back to his body with a surprised noise as Grian scrambled up. He knew he was being quite rude, leaving Scar alone in Grian’s base, but at the same time he couldn’t help feeling more and more like a caged animal by the minute. 

This was the second time he had fled a conversation today.

He didn’t turn around as he took flight quickly, but his cursed hyperawareness stayed behind, lagging behind his body, staying at Scar’s side for just another moment before finally snapping back to his body. It was long enough for him to see Scar picking up a pitch-black feather off the ground where Grian had just sat.

Grian nearly screamed in frustration.

And then proceeded to just about crash into another Player mid-air. 

Both of them let out a yelp as Grian tried to quickly change his course off to the side, but still hit them with the tip of his wing, sending both of them tumbling.

Grian cursed silently to himself, this was exactly what happened if one didn’t look where they were flying. His heart was racing uncomfortably as he sat up. 'I’m so sorry, that was my fault. Are you alright?' Grian asked, head still spinning from the jostling of the fall combined with his headache. 

'I’m alright, friend, don’t worry about me.' 

Apparently his bad luck still hadn’t run out.

Xisuma climbed to his feet next to him, pausing quickly to take stock of his body before holding a hand out to help Grian up. He pulled the lightweight Avian up without any strain. 

'I was actually just heading towards the coffee shop. Mind walking with me?'

Of course he was, Grian thought despairingly. Still, he put up an open smile and nodded, determined to make easy smalltalk until he could leave without suspicion. 'Any time for you, X. I was planning to stock up on potions anyways. What are you looking for?'

'Ah, I wanted to browse Cub’s tea selection. I’ve run out of my favourite lately, you see, and I haven’t had to buy any for so long, I totally forgot it’s not always in stock.'

Grian blinked. He had forgotten his usual secret tea deliveries. Well, honestly, he hadn’t really been able to pinpoint the days where X was stressed enough to warrant Grian bringing him tea over all the other chaos going on in his head, but still he felt bad about it.

'Oh.' It sounded lame, even to his own ears. But what else was he supposed to answer?

There was a lull in the conversation as they arrived at their destination. It wasn’t as awkward of an atmosphere as Grian had feared, to be honest, but still he held himself tense and watched Xisuma closely from the corner of his eye while he bought nearly half the stock of regeneration potions. Maybe he should buy a couple other potions as well, to cover up his odd purchase.

This was going to become a bad habit if the potions truly helped keep his headache at bay, Grian knew. He had no idea if heavy potion use could be addictive, but he also could not bring himself to care.

'As I thought, Cub doesn’t sell this particular brand of tea', X noted, shrugging lightly. 'Well, I’ll just have to wait for Gigacorp to deliver it when it's back in stock then. It’s no big deal, if anything it gives me the chance to try new blends.'

'Want me to recommend you some?' Grian answered on autopilot.

He looked up a tick later, blinking in surprise. Grian didn’t really know what had possessed him to ask that, but the blinding smile behind Xisuma’s helmet told him that he couldn‘t back out now. He would just have to roll with it, then.

They spent quite a few minutes discussing tea flavours and brands. Grian learned that Xisuma had just lately tried decaf coffee for the first time, enjoying it a lot more than he thought he would, actually, and learned the sentimental value behind some of his favourite blends. By the end of it, Grian, too, had bought a couple of new teas.

As they finally turned to leave, X clasped Grians arm in a friendly gesture, a soft smile on his face. 'You know, I’m glad we bumped into each other. I was starting to feel like you were avoiding me.'

Grian stiffened. 'Why would I do that?' His voice was a little high-pitched, but that could just be read as indignant surprise, right?

'I don’t know. I was probably just overthinking it. I’m glad it isn’t the case, anyways.'

'Yeah', Grian allowed himself to breathe again. He paused, but then impulsively added: 'I’ve been thinking of hopping over to the Life Games Server for a while, hosting a third Season. You know, do something different, get my inspiration back', he parroted Scar’s earlier words.

'That sounds fantastic. Feel free to come by if you need help with setting up the firewall again.'

Grian silently gritted his teeth at the reminder of how he had panic-called Xisuma after Martyn had mentioned, far too calmly in Grian's opinion, the weird dreams he’d had during Last Life.

The look that Martyn had sent him was too sharp, contemplating, wary.

Outwardly though, Grian agreed happily and only turned away after X had shuffled his Elytra and flown out of the watery cave. 

As soon as he was out of sight, Grian opened a new regen bottle and chugged it down in one go. 

Notes:

Finally I get to write some Xisuma again! He's so hard to write for me, but I kinda adore his role in this fic.
Anyways, next chapter is Double Life Time! I completely restructured that chapter after I thought about y'all's suggestion and decided to incorporate Listeners lore as well. So now I've got to restructure the following chapter as well to fit everything I meant to fit in - there might be a couple days inbetween this Update and the next so I can figure that out.

Chapter 8: Chapter Seven - Hiding

Scar’s idea of taking a break was a terrible one.

To be fair, maybe it was Grian’s idea to turn that break into the third season of the Life Series that was terrible. Or maybe it was just his luck in getting Scar as a soulmate. 

Any other time Grian would have loved to team up with Scar – brilliant, infuriating Scar, who had been so happy at the prospect of another round of death games. Grian had chuckled at his antics and secretly hoped that he’d get to play with one of the non-Hermits this time.

With people who did not pray to him.

Of course the universe had a different idea.

Grian had triple-checked, and then checked again when he learned that Scar was his soulmate, but there was no sign of outside influence this time. The server’s security measures held up. 

It was just his paranoia and bad luck.

'Today was the first time I’ve ever seen an Allay! Did you know people say the Allays and Vex are related? Their magic apparently works in the exact same way as ours, that’s so fascinating, don’t you think? I kind of wish the one I freed was a little friendlier, though', Scar chattered away as he set up his camp inside of Grian’s base walls, his pandas finally forgotten. Grian was only half-listening as he continued working on the wooden palisade, trying to breathe through another row of prayers that made his skin prickle and itch. The hands moving in front of him didn’t feel like they were his, even though they were doing exactly what he wanted them to do.

'That’s amazing, Scar,' he mumbled distractedly.

Quiet. Scar must have finally picked up on the fact that Grian wasn’t actually interested in whatever he was rambling about right now.

'You don’t want me as your soulmate.' It was not phrased as a question.

Grian turned to face him, already feeling like he was at his wits end. 'Scar, I swear if this is still about my theatrical scream when you ran after your Allay cousin instead of confirming if we were soulmates–'

'You’ve made it quite clear that I’m a liability to your chances of winning.' And void, he may be shrugging and hiding behind a smile, but Grian could still tell that Scar looked truly hurt.

Grian sighed, deflating and rubbing at his aching back as he shook his head. 'That’s not true. We’ve won together once already, we can do it again. I don’t care about that.'

'Then what is it?'

Grian had no answer for him.

Even before they had known they were soulmates, Scar had taken one look at Grian’s tired, haunted figure and decided that this Server was in need of a happy and relaxing space. Or maybe he had already decided that back on Hermitcraft. In any way, the man had kept his word and built a petting zoo on a death games server.

Grian didn’t believe for a single tick that the pandas would still be alive when Double Life ended.

How did anybody deal with this… with Scar’s naivety, his stubbornness, his unshakable optimism? With the way he constantly looked at Grian like he was waiting for Grian to tell him whatever was wrong?

Grian didn’t know – and so he decided not to deal with it at all. He knew he was bossy and unfair to his teammate, he was agitated and on edge even with the constant hyperawareness of his surroundings.

A hyperawareness that somehow didn’t include Timmy and Martyn – Martyn had scared Grian to the nether and back by sneaking up on him.

So they were protected. Good for them.

Grian didn’t remember when he had last slept.

It also didn’t help that he could not get his hands on a regeneration potion on this Server. His headaches seemed even stronger now than they were before, they were bordering on unbearable. Grian craved the numbness of the potion effect.

Scar had obviously thought that some time away from Hermitcraft would make Grian open up and act as a kind of intervention for his mental health, but as the days went by it seemed even he was starting to lose his patience, smile dimming with every hurtful comment Grian threw at him.

He couldn't have known that the reason for Grian’s anguish would just follow him here, Server firewalls not being able to pick up, much less filter out the waves of worship for Xelqua. In fact, spending so much time with other Evolutionists made him even more anxious and he found himself checking in on them regularly to make sure they were still safe. 

Alive. The Watchers had lied.

Of course they had.

It was on one such visit, under the guise of Admin duties, that Grian was sitting in the middle of the ranch together with Jimmy, watching Tango tinker about the place. They were chatting amicably about wing hygiene, Jimmy blushing and quietly admitting that he was thinking about gifting Tango one of his feathers. Grian had, of course, had teased him about it with a big grin, making sure that Jimmy knew how happy Grian was for the couple.

Jimmy still didn't know that Grian didn't have his feather anymore, that They had destroyed all of his belongings when They took him.

He didn't deserve that feather anyways.

Then Tango was stomping up to them, fuming – literally – about something or other that just didn’t work as it was supposed to. He wasn’t going to tell Grian what they were working, of course, not while they were playing on opposing teams. Grian didn’t worry about that. Still, something about this set his nerves on edge.

And then Tango opened his mouth and Grian’s stomach dropped.

'By Xelqua, this is so frustrating! We’ll have to find another way.'

Grian managed to not flinch even as he reflexively closed his eyes, hearing Tango’s words reverberate inside his head.

He hadn’t thought about the dangers of teaming up the Hermits and the Evolutionists.

Double Life was a mistake.

'Who’s this Xelqua?' Jimmy wasted no time asking.

And Tango wasted no time answering. Truly, their open and direct communication would be enviable under different circumstances. 'Oh! Well, you see, he’s this Wat–'

' Nobody!', Grian croaked, shrill, panicked.

Tango and Jimmy both turned to him, matching questioning and confused looks on their faces.

Ah, void.

'Nobody you need to be concerned with, really. Just another deity that the Hermits have taken a liking to recently.' Grian felt like he needed to explain himself now, heart beating loudly in his chest. 

'What?' Jimmy looked up at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion before understanding washed over his face. 'He’s one of Them, isn’t he? Are They here again? Martyn said–'

'Nobody’s Watching us. I tripled the security after They reached out to Martyn. Nobody is Watching', Grian repeated quickly before taking a deep breath. 'I shouldn’t have interrupted. I’ll be on my way now–' He must have sounded hysterical as he scrambled up from the ground, wings puffed up uncomfortably.

Grian set a brisk pace, walking away. For a tick, he even debated flying – he would be breaking the rules he’d set for the game, of course, but it would be faster than walking. And he desperately wanted to get away from here, he could just about feel his control wavering underneath his skin.

'Grian?'

Jimmy was following him. 

'What in the nether was that about?'

'It’s nothing, Tim. I should have stayed silent.'

A pause.

'Tango doesn't know, then?'

Grian stopped walking. Jimmy would just keep following him anyways.

'Nobody knows.'

'Oh. Okay.'

That was not the reaction Grian had expected – as he turned to look at Jimmy's face, his skin prickled and itched. Something in Jimmy‘s expression seemed oddly sharp, searching, and Grian couldn’t figure it out.

'Why’re you looking like your world is about to fall apart?' Jimmy shrugged and gave his best attempt at a reassuring smile. 'I can keep my mouth shut. It's your secret to tell.'

Somehow, Grian wondered if they were still talking about the same thing.

Notes:

Ok but has anyone noticed how in the clip where Martyn scares Grian so much it scares him back Grian mumbles about everyone being inside his head… like how was I supposed to not take that out of context and make it into Listeners lore, huh??
How much do you think Jimmy and Martyn know?

Chapter 9: Chapter Eight - Harm

Notes:

CW: Double Life-canon-compliant self harm by Scar in the first scene. We all know Bird Man is hurting himself but this one is Scar.

Grian didn‘t actually remember a lot of the last couple days. He remembered questioning looks from Tango and Jimmy quietly chastising his partner. He remembered maniacal laughter and the smell of fire and being the last Team on their green life. There was a rush of adrenaline as Scar, without warning, launched himself off the top of their Spiky Fort and there was pride as Grian realised that they were still alive, his friends screaming and celebrating Scar‘s amazingly successful stunt.

'I would like an apology from everyone who put us on the opposite of S-Tier for this current Season', Scar had announced gleefully, publically, staring directly at Grian. 

Cunning, vindictive, endlessly positive Scar.

At the time, it had sounded like a joke.

And then Grian nearly killed Scar because of a prank. 

Again.

As Scar looked up from the shards of dripstone around him with cold fire in his eyes and headed straight for the next piece of cactus that he could hurt Grian with – that he would hurt himself with – suddenly it didn’t seem like much of a joke anymore.

'Scar, stop,' Grian told him with a forced grin. Scar didn’t stop. 

The grin fell.

'Scar. Stop.' 

Scar just scoffed at him.

'Scar! Stop!' Grian’s voice had grown shrill with worry as he finally moved to steal the cactus from his partner. 'You’ve got to stop, Scar, this is self-harming behaviour!'

'Well, you’re one to talk.' Scar growled at him – he actually, truly growled. Grian didn’t think he had ever seen Scar this mad before.

'As if you haven’t done your very best to sabotage your relationships lately, huh.' Grian wanted to argue, wanted to scream, to move, but Scar continued before he could even open his mouth. 'And don’t you think I haven’t noticed – you’re pushing everyone away, it’s not just me. I’m just the idiot who decided to stay.'

Scar huffed angrily.

'You’re right, this isn’t healthy. I know you’re going through something right now, whatever it is… I will always be here for you, Grian. But right now–' He was leaning on his cane heavily, looking exhausted. There were still cactus needles stuck to his shirt. 'Right now, I need to take a walk. By myself.'

Ah, Grian thought, he’d finally broken Scar.

Maybe this time he would finally stay away for good.

They didn’t talk about it.

Being partners in a death game meant that they had to work together, whether they wanted to or not, so by the time they’d come back to Hermitcraft, there was a new, tentative sort of peace between them.

Oh thank Xelqua, they made it back unharmed, seemed to be the general consensus as the Hermits re-joined their home Server one by one. Grian didn’t know whether to be glad that his friends cared or hurt that they thought he was putting his Players at risk.

The hurt came a lot easier though, what with all the worship accompanying it.

Grian powered through by making the Entity move to the shopping district on its own legs. A group of floating rocks became a cold and hollow megabase that looked as if it wasn't meant to be lived in. And maybe it really wasn't, Grian didn't know. Did he plan it this way? Thinking about it took concentration he couldn't spare. 

He was cold all the time anyways, the feeling of pure code prickling at his skin, no matter how warm his sweater or where on the Server he stepped, so what did it matter if his base was cold too? 

And then Mumbo came back.

Grian nearly panicked.

How could he let Mumbo see him like this? How could he pretend to be happy with him when there was so much else going on? Would he be able to hide just how quickly he burned through a whole chest full of regen potions?

Everything about this made for an extremely unhealthy way to cope, obviously, but Grian didn't think he really had the luxury to care. If he couldn't keep it together, something would break, no matter if it was his control or his sanity that left him first.

He had hurt too many people already.

Mumbo would worry if he noticed, and Grian still didn’t know how to deal with that.

Between Mumbo touring the Server to see all of his family, friends and partners again as well as Grian claiming that he had to catch up on all the building he’d missed during Double Life, he didn’t intend to spend a lot of time with Mumbo at all. After all, Mumbo had already announced another trip off-Server, even longer this time. 

Grian thought that he could hold out that long. He had to.

And so he had an excuse on the ready whenever he noticed Mumbo looking at him oddly: If he ran out of energy, it was just his mental health acting up, but Mumbo shouldn’t worry because he had been there every step while Grian learned how to live again after mysteriously reappearing from who-knows-where, missing for years after Evo ended – Mumbo knew Grian better than anybody else, had helped him back to his feet. And yes, sure, of course Grian would call Mumbo if he ever got close to a panic attack again. If Mumbo noticed Grian flinching, he just had a headache because he focused on building so much that he forgot to stay hydrated. None of it was fully a lie, and yet it could barely be further from the truth.

'I keep thinking about that fight I had with Scar in Double Life', he admitted one day, continuing the same pattern of half-truths. And Mumbo took his hand with a soft smile and understood exactly what Grian had hoped he would. 

'I know how hard it can be to let go of the things that happened on that Server. Do you want to talk about it?' When Grian shook his head, slowly, as not to aggravate his headache, Mumbo just squeezed his hand a little tighter, a small smile raising the corner of his mustache. 'Okay. I’m sure the two of you will work through it soon enough.'

When Grian first saw Mumbo’s decoy vault, right there and lined up perfectly to where his own bridge ended, he couldn’t help thinking that it felt like a peace offering. I don’t know what is going on, but I’m here and I want to spend time with you, it seemed to say. It should have scared him, maybe, the notion of care Mumbo had put into this gesture – but this was something he knew, something safe that he knew how to deal with. It was Mumbo’s way of showing that he loved Grian without having a full-on confrontational conversation. And Grian loved Mumbo as well, he truly did, so if it would make him happy then Grian didn’t mind indulging him in this game of theirs. 

Except that it was near impossible to concentrate over the voices in his head. Void, he couldn’t care less how relieved Iskall was that Stress hadn’t randomly turned into a horse and – oh, he had walked right into Mumbo’s trap without taking off his gear.

Mumbo found the whole situation hilarious.

'I didn’t think … very well,' Grian joked in a light, self-deprecating tone, trying not to sound as tense as he was feeling and ignoring his headache that he’d just aggravated even more by dying twice. He felt as if he could break out in tears at any second now.

Mumbo was packing his bags again shortly after.

It left Grian with a complicated mix of emotions. 'I’m going to miss you', he grumbled into Mumbo's shoulder, clinging tightly in one of the rare hugs he allowed himself to have. Mumbo just chuckled and planted a light kiss on the top of his head. 'I know you will, G, but remember you’re not alone. You can miss me together with the other Hermits, okay?' Grian rolled his eyes, huffing a tiny laugh even though he didn’t feel like it. 'I will be just one message away anyways. And when I’m back, you can finally break into my vault again.' This time, Grian shoved him good-naturedly, prompting Mumbo to dramatically stagger away. 

It took Grian some effort not to reach for Mumbo and pull him right back into another hug. Okay, so maybe he hadn’t noticed just how much he missed the kind of casual, carefree love that Mumbo gave so easily until he was about to lose it again.

Scar used to be like that too, always touching, always making him feel loved.

Grian consciously took a step back to shoot Mumbo a crooked smile. 'Alright. Have fun on your travels.'

He kept his hands firmly at his side, forced his shoulders to relax as he saw Mumbo off at the portal with the other Hermits this time.

When he finally turned to make his way back to the construction site that was his base, Scar silently fell into step beside him.

Grian smiled. It was a sad smile, melancholy and serene, but still. Maybe he really was losing his mind. The setting sun burned in his eyes and made his headache flare up, but he didn’t close his eyes, hoping that the pain would distract him from the anxiety in his gut.

They were nearly back to their bases when Scar finally decided to break the silence.

'So… how are you doing?'

'Better, I think.' Well, it was only half of a lie – after all, compared to Double Life, Grian felt like he was able to cope a lot better now that he was home and had unlimited potion access.

It didn’t change the core of the problem, though.

Just another knot in his web of half-truths that he hoped people would take the exact way he wanted them to. With Scar that was always a gamble though…

'Good, good! I am so glad that Mumbo was able to help.'

Scar bought it. Huh. Maybe Grian really had gotten better at telling lies.

The thought made him feel slightly nauseous.

Was he supposed to answer Scar? Until last Season, Grian would have laughed and flirtatiously teased Scar that jealousy wasn’t a good look on him. That felt wrong now, though, especially with the unresolved argument still in the back of his mind.

Grian missed being close with Scar. It was even worse now that Mumbo had reminded him how it felt to be loved without anxiety and tension clouding the air. Grian just knew he was going to feel incredibly lonely soon.

By now, it was probably too late to follow up on Scar’s comment, the silence between them having grown into a heavy cloud.

It grated on Grian’s nerves. He was going to have to say something soon, before the situation got even more awkward. He sighed.

'Oh, for goodness sake, alright. Scar, I’m sorry.' Grian decided to just blurt whatever came to his mind first. 'I gave you so much flack for being clumsy and distractable, but then I was the one to end our game by dying to that stupid Warden. It was a risky idea from the start, I should have known better.' Even though he was still staring at the sunset before him, Grian could feel Scar’s surprised, intense stare on the side of his face. His skin prickled uncomfortably. Grian grimaced as he continued: 'Look, I know I’m all kinds of bad right now, but I don’t want to be a hypocrite at least. I was distracted and you paid the price. Shouldn’t have ribbed you when I was just as likely to make a mistake.'

'G,' Scar interrupted him softly, an amused smile audible in his voice. 'It’s alright. I’m not mad about it.'

You should be, Grian thought.

'Why not?' he asked.

Scar just shrugged. 'Well, I was surprised for sure. I didn’t know you were still down in the deep dark after us others had left, otherwise I would’ve helped you.' He paused. 'Actually, why didn’t you ask me for help? We were a team, after all.'

'We were… I felt like we were still fighting?' Grian tried weakly. Scar shook his head and reached for Grian’s arm so that Grian finally had to turn to him. It took Grian another deep, steadying breath to be able to look up into Scar’s eyes.

'I was never mad at you, Grian.'

That got him a humourless laugh from Grian. 'Well, you sure seemed like it.'

'Okay, yes, I might have been very, very frustrated with you for a moment there. But G, I was always just worried about you.'

Grian closed his eyes with a pained grimace. He never wanted to see Scar this hurt again.

'I really don’t know how to deal with it when people worry about me', he murmured. For once, it was actually the complete truth.

Notes:

This is the first time I’ve messed with the canon timeline in this fic. Mumbo actually got back before the start of Double Life, but then again canonically Double Life also only happened for a few hours once a week over the course of six weeks and it just made for better drama this way around. It’s creative liberty. Actually, I’m quite impressed I managed as much canon compliancy as I have, so far.

Next chapter is titled Breaking Point. Wonder what that means…

On a different note, this fic was mainly written while listening to one single playlist I created back in October. You can find it by searching Burn Scars by Ozeanpelz on Spotify or by following this link:
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/41z5oirpU1oLiNHhQgb3xY?si=P2hjGKP2SrKoTWO86ko-FA

Chapter 10: Chapter Nine - Breaking Point

It was a bad day. Those were getting a lot more frequent recently. 

It was a terrible day, really.

He’d had three bottles of regeneration already and still his head was pounding like it might explode. Seriously, he wouldn’t be surprised if it started flashing like a Creeper or a piece of TNT, and wasn’t that a funny comparison?

No… it really wasn’t funny at all. Where had the Grian gone who delivered masterful puns at every occasion?

Grian felt like he was entitled to some self pity as he listened to Ren’s prayers. Hermitcraft’s new king had, between his upheaval of the economy and instating a Server Quest system, gone the last step and made it official: Xelqua was now the one and only patron deity of the Hermitcraft Server. 

Granted, most Hermits didn’t care for the monarchy, but they had been praying to Xelqua regardless, so this announcement ruffled no feathers but Grian’s. Pearl had given him an odd look when he couldn’t help but make a pained face as Ren mentioned His Name in a booming voice – the look was full of pity, he thought. Scar had turned to him as well, searching out Grian’s gaze for a minute, but gave up and focused back on the King as Grian resolutely stared off to the side of the throne.

Starting a resistance was off the table. 

Grian still didn’t plan on ever answering the prayers to him, spent no time even debating it, but still everything in his body screamed at the thought of actively working against the ideals Ren prayed for. And Ren prayed a lot after he was made King.

Scar was still a wild card. He was building a theme park – the happiest place on Hermitcraft, he called it, and Grian thought of Jellie pandas.

Then Scar was also beginning to gain a reputation as a masterful headhunter and part of the Royal Court, his Vex-like grin making him look almost insane as he bore down on people from the skies. 

Before, Grian would have laughed at his chaotic nature and joined in on the fun.

Now, though, he struggled to read Scar, always trying to judge his mood even though he knew it was futile, that Scar could switch between his personas in the blink of an eye. And Scar continued to worry. 

It made Grians heart ache just as much as his head.

On good days, when Scar announced that he would swing by later, Grian would sigh and fly out to find Scar so the man wouldn’t have to go out of his way to search for him. Today, brittle as his control was, he just stared at the offending message on his communicator and hoped something would come up to distract Scar. 

His body felt like tar, moving sluggishly and wrong. It felt too small, too tight in a way that Grian had almost gotten used to, just as he had gotten used to the distracting pricking that made him want to claw at his irritated skin. Instead, he simply laid back down on his bed and burrowed his head deeper into his pillows as he slung his arms around his body and attempted to cry. He hadn’t been able to cry for weeks now and he hoped it would relieve some of the tension behind his eyes – but his eyes stayed dry, no matter how long he laid there, staring at the wall.

As the sunlight shining into his base signalled the passing time, Grian finally gave up. Scar would be by any minute now and that meant he had to be up and running, had to look presentable. 

He managed to sit up, at least.

Well, he might as well use this time to preen. It would be a good idea, actually, to check his wings for any discoloured feathers before Scar arrived – Grian had noticed a pattern of void-coloured feathers that sprung up on bad days. Unfortunately, today was a terrible day.

He was still in the middle of preening when Scar strolled in. Their eyes met briefly as Grian looked up. Scar seemed tired today, leaning on his cane just slightly more than usual, so Grian sighed and nodded his head to the space at the foot of the bed. 'Bad day?'

'Well, you could say that. Nothing terrible happened, you know, it’s just one of those days where things just never work the way you want them to.' Scar gave him a little smile as he sat down, leaning his cane on the bedframe beside him. Grian quickly looked away to focus back on his wings. Ah, and he couldn't forget to check his control either. 

'Hmm. Same.' He hadn’t meant to say it. But really, his battered mind could only focus on so many things at once. He plucked a bent feather out harshly.

Scar was quiet for a while, seemingly lost in thought as he watched Grian preen. It almost made Grian relax a little, what with this being one of the least tense interactions the two of them had in a while – almost.

'Are you looking for black-purple feathers again?' 

Grian froze. Damn Scar for being so nosy, for not leaving well enough. And damn his own reaction for giving him away. Scar hummed and nodded, accepting his silence as an answer. 'Do you want to tell me what the deal is with those?'

No, Grian really didn’t want to do that. 'Probably just got ink on them from working near my squid farm', he half-mumbled the lie into his wings as he tugged them closer to continue his work. 

Even without seeing his face, Grian knew Scar didn’t believe him. Disappointment seemed to cloud the room, choking Grian, making his breaths shallower. His head gave a vicious stab of pain.

Dropping his wing, Grian got up quickly, briskly walking over to his chests. Over here, with a bit of distance between them, he felt like he could breathe easier as he uncorked another potion bottle and downed the regen. 

'Look', he started, turning back to Scar, who was watching him closely. Reservedly, but with predatory focus. And oh, no amount of physical space could help Grian against feeling like a cornered animal. His magic was boiling inside him and he was acutely aware of the chests to one side of him and walls to the other. Panic rose in his chest as he tried to breathe through it, staring back at Scar.

Even his own voice sounded strange to him now as he admitted: 'I really don't want to talk about it.'

Scar was still looking at him, still making Grian feel frozen on the spot, but his gaze seemed to soften a bit at the words. Or – no, his gaze was sad and pondering now. And tired. Grian wondered if he was swaying slightly as he stood there, heart racing.

And then he heard Scar's voice inside of his head.

Oh dear Xelqua, please tell me what I’m doing wrong. How am I going to help him when he won’t even talk to me?

Scar was staring right into Grian’s eyes.

The panic finally broke free in his chest. He gasped for air as the thin grasp he had on his focus shattered. He barely noticed when his back hit the wall. 

He didn’t feel the many eyes opening across his flesh nor did he notice his legs giving out as his mind was flooded with information, so much colorful information. He wasn’t aware of the sobs in his throat. He only knew the burning feeling of anguish as a single drop of power entered his system, wormed its way through his controls, flooded his brain.

His last clear thought was, Void, this was what it felt like to finally reach his breaking point.

Notes:

That’s it, the big story climax! Thanks to everybody who stuck with me through the second hand torture that was the last nine chapters. I promise our lil bird man will get better now.

Chapter 11: Chapter Ten - Rememberance

Summary:

Grian: I am God.
Scar: You are Grian
Grian: I am God. I am Grian. I have trauma.
Grian: Hold up, I HAVE TRAUMA
Scar: calm
Grian: k
(Chapter Summary by GoodtimeWithcats208)

Notes:

CW: Brief mention of suicidal ideation-adjacent thoughts in the striked-through lines (feel free to skip the striked-through lines on this chapter <3)

Also, I heard that my spacer images are being used outside of this fic now, so, ground rules. Feel free to share them or use them in your own non-profit works as long as you credit me. Either by grey_cat_crozzing on AO3 or simply by Ozeanpelz works. Have fun!

He had never before answered any prayers and he wasn’t going to. Somehow, He clung to this thought as a voice filtered through His hazy thoughts. Look at me, the voice pleaded, focus only on me.

The voice sounded steady and soothing, keeping up the flow of prayer. 

Please, Xelqua, I need you to look at me and only me now.  

It gave Him a point of reference, a single steady chunk in the seas of unfiltered data crashing into His brain. Xelqua, the voice was calling Him – was that His name? He thought he remembered being given that name. He didn’t like it much, though.

Xelqua wasn’t supposed to answer prayers. He couldn’t exactly remember why, His memories just out of reach with the constant stream of new information pouring into His mind. And yet... it wouldn’t hurt to just look at where the voice came from, would it? He wouldn’t be doing anything more or less than Watching, which He was doing anyways, which He couldn’t not do as he tried to categorise all the pictures, all the shapes and colors and unfiltered code that reached Him from all over the cosmos.

Come back to me, focus on me, will you? I need all of your attention right here with me.

The worry He could hear in the voice made his heart ache. 

Slowly, He gathered up His senses enough to send them in a rough direction. It was a beautiful Server that his Sight landed on. Multiplayer, by the looks of the different build styles. He could sense a bunch of living beings in the area, Players, Mobs, even a couple magical creatures. The place seemed to be thriving.

That’s it, dear, you’re doing great. Now can you try to look at me?

He found the voice a small distance away from Spawn. The odd familiarity of it all made it easier to pinpoint the exact location. A man sat there on the cold stone floor, holding a shivering, winged creature. A Watcher, just like Him. No, that was Him, wasn’t it?

Here we go, you’re doing so good, sweetheart.

Somewhere far off, He heard another version of the voice. Oh, right, He was hearing snippets of the scene that He was Watching.  'Are you with me again, songbird?', the voice – no, the man asked.

Keep focusing on me, will you?

And Grian did.

Who was Grian? That was... himself? But wasn’t he Xelqua? 

Nothing seemed to make sense in the fragmented memories he managed to glimpse.

'Nonono, stay with me now. Focus on my voice, sweetheart, can you do that for me?'

Ah. He’d lost his focus on Scar, trying to work through the haze of his confusion. And there was a new name again – though maybe not so new after all. Scar felt like cold desert nights and warm hugs, like laughter and frustration. 

'There you go. It’s alright, Grian, everything will be alright. You just focus on me right now and we’ll figure out the rest later. Isn’t that right, babe?' Scar sounded almost relieved now, looking down at the heap of body in his lap. 

A wave of nausea hit Grian as he caught a glimpse of the person just about completely hidden behind the void-like structures he knew to be his wings. The body let out a sob. Oh, he could feel it, now – it echoed through his awareness, making him want to pull away from it. The body moved, tugging its wings even closer around itself, like it also wanted to pull away from him. 

Scar was keeping up his stream of words, assuring over and over again that everything was fine as long as Grian stayed with him. 

There was a hand petting his back in a movement that felt shockingly familiar, stroking through the little feathers where his wings began. It was an odd sensation, touch, after Grian had been so very focused on visuals and the sound of Scar’s voice, but it wasn’t bad. As he kept thinking about the small, repetitive motions of Scar’s hand, it took him a tick to notice that Scar had asked him something. Silence hung in the room as Scar studied Grian’s hunched figure. Ah, he was probably still waiting on an answer... Grian couldn’t remember the question.

After a moment or two, Scar hummed calmly. 'I know it’s hard, but it would mean a lot to me if you could help me out here. You don’t need to talk just yet, just a nod or a headshake would be enough, I know you can do it. Here, I’ll ask more slowly this time: Do you want me to continue praying to you?'

And oh, Grian didn’t like that thought. He thought he heard another sob escaping him. No more prayers, something screamed at the back of his mind. A headshake, then. He’d done it before, he knew the theory of moving his head, right? Another sob rocked his body and oh, right, that’s what muscles felt like. Now, what he had to do was focus – Never lose focus, the voice in the back of his head reprimanded him. Bad things would happen if he ever lost control. Grian didn’t want bad things to happen. He shook his head in jerky motions.

'Okay. Okay, there we go. You did so well, songbird. I promise no more prayers from me.'

Grian felt his body relax just the tiniest bit as he dropped his head back onto Scar’s chest.

They stayed like this for a long while. Scar would talk to him in a quiet voice, pet his back, keep him centred in the room as Grian drifted in his body. 

It was hard to guess how long they’d been sitting there on the hard, cold ground – long enough to be uncomfortable for Scar, Grian guessed, but still he couldn’t bring himself to move. He stiffened whenever his awareness picked up on Hermits flying by close to his base, glad that just this once, none of them decided to check in on him. 

Grian wondered if the sharp energy of Vex magic that flared protectively around them had anything to do with that.

Finally, even though he still felt like a puppet with all stings cut, Grian was able to take stock of himself. He was shivering and cold as the void, feeling absolutely miserable. His head still felt numb and clouded, but at least it seemed his headache had gone. He could feel its beginnings resurfacing as soon as he took a deep, shaky breath and started to gather up his magic back into the crumbled walls of his control, rebuilding it step by step, closing the individual eyes on his skin one by one. Just a little more focus, pressing the powers down and away from his skin... 

Someone prayed.

Grian wasn’t sure who it was and it didn’t matter as he let out a whimper and buried himself deeper in Scar’s arms. Visions flashed in his head as his Sight automatically tried to find His worshipper. 

'Hey sweetheart, what’s going on right now?' Scar asked softly as he held Grian tighter, leaning his chin on Grian’s head. With some effort, Grian tugged his focus back to Scar.

'Prayers'

His voice was rough, clogged by all his crying. He hadn’t even realised he was going to answer Scar’s question, hadn’t focused on how to articulate. That was... good, wasn’t it? 

Scar let out a strangled sound. Maybe it wasn’t good, then?

'You’re getting hurt by prayers?' Grian couldn’t identify the emotion that laced Scar’s question.

This time, it took him a second to answer. 'Not... directly. Hurts to– to stay in control.'

Scar stayed quiet. It made Grian antsy, this was the first time Scar had been silent for so long since Grian had regained conscious thought. He could try to See what Scar was feeling, the power inside him whispered. He answered by shoving it down and steadying his breathing.

He should hurry up and get his Watcher-ness under control anyways, before someone came in and saw him…

Oh.

Oh no.

Scar’s teeth clicked as Grian hit his chin in a panicked hurry to get up and away. It took him a couple tries to get his legs working under him, wings puffed up as he slowly backed away from Scar. 'Oh! No, Grian, wait a second!' Scar sounded worried again as he grabbed Grian’s wrist and held tight. Grian was breathing heavily, many panicked eyes darting from Scar to their hands to possible escape routes. 'Stay with me, songbird, please. It’ll be alright, I promise. What has you so spooked?' Scar sounded so calm, way too calm in Grian’s opinion. He swallowed hard. 

'You know. You– you saw.' He didn’t feel like he was making any sense with his stammering. 'Me. You saw me.'

Scar’s shoulders relaxed. Was he smiling at Grian? 'I did. I still see you.'

Oh, right, Grian still had too many eyes. He still had three pairs of void-black wings as well. And yet there Scar sat, smiling up at him reassuringly. They stared at each other for a long moment.

Finally, Scar seemed content with what he saw and dropped his eyes down to where he still held Grian’s wrist. 'Ah. Give me a second to get up, will you?' Scar let go of his arm, using a chest to lever himself off the ground, and started walking gingerly back towards the bed to pick up his cane. Grian followed him in a daze. He could distinctly remember Scar calling him Xelqua as he prayed for Grian to focus on him. Still, he needed to hear it. 

'So... how did you figure it out?'

Scar turned to shoot him another soothing smile and took one of Grian’s hands in his. His skin felt warm on Grian’s cold fingers. 

'I know what a Watcher looks like, Grian. I’ve been to quite a lot of X’s classes. And that’s the only puzzle piece I've been missing this whole time, isn’t it?'

It was meant to be light-hearted, jokingly said, Grian knew, but still his eyes were starting to tear up again. Hearing Scar name him a Watcher just proved the inevitable: His past had finally caught up to him.

'I’m sorry.'

'There’s nothing to be sorry for, songbird', Scar soothed and Grian couldn’t help but squirm uncomfortably. He knew that Scar was trying to soothe him. He was aware that there was a lot to be sorry for.

Like letting the Watchers take him.

Like allowing Xelqua to exist.

Like attempting to be somebody he could no longer be.

'I lied to you. All of you.'

'That’s not true. You couldn’t have lied about being a Watcher when we’ve never asked you.'

I’ve lied about so much more than that one fact, Grian thought grimly, but with a flare of thankfulness as he sat down on his bed again slowly, gingerly. Scar had given him an out and Grian would be damned if he didn’t take it.

'Kept it from you, then.' Grian looked down to where their hands lay intertwined. His heart clenched in a way that Grian couldn’t decide if what he was feeling was positive or negative right now. Mostly, it was just… a lot, having Scar close in this way that he hadn’t allowed himself in so long. He couldn’t shake the thought that he was about to lose that.

'Why are you not mad at me?'

'You did nothing wrong, Grian.'

Grian huffed silently at that, grimacing to show that it would take a lot for him to start believing that. And there was still something else in Scar’s eyes as well, a reserved sort of sadness. 

'There’s more to that sentence, isn’t there?'

'No, I mean it–'

'I know you do.' Grian interrupted Scar by squeezing his hand. 'But you’re thinking about something more, aren’t you?'

'It’s not important right now.' 

'I would like to hear it.' 

'Really, it’s– it’s just a selfish little thought, I...' with one look at Grian’s face, he finally relented. 'I just wish you’d felt like you could have come to me with all that.'

Notes:

Thank yo all so much for all your support in the last chapter! I’m glad you enjoy my storytelling. <3

Chapter 12: Chapter Eleven - Trust

Notes:

Edit: Now including blanket bird burrito.

Grian woke up first. He had always been somewhat of an early bird – hah – but what woke him today was a cold breeze. Summer was quickly coming to an end and his base was getting colder by the day. He would have to install some wards to keep the cold outside, Grian decided. His head was pounding again and Grian wished for another regeneration potion, but there were none in his inventory. He would have to get up and that meant moving around the sleeping figure of Scar. 

Unbelievable, caring Scar, who had insisted on staying the night. And even though he put up a token fight, Grian was glad that Scar was there. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this well rested, and wasn’t that saying something after the major meltdown he had just hours before. As soon as the adrenaline rush had left his blood, his headache returning viciously, Grian had barely been able to keep himself awake for long enough to hide away his Watcher features. Right then, he had been so emotionally and physically drained, he could have sworn he’d sleep for a week straight.

Another cold breeze blew into his boulder structure and Grian tucked his wings tighter around himself and Scar, snuggling deeper into their shared blanket and hoping to fall back asleep. He had no such luck, though, as just minutes later a half-panicked prayer made him wince. Xisuma had found some sort of security breach that he was frantically trying to pin down. The words battered against Grian’s weak defences and made him bury his head further into Scar’s side.

'Another prayer?' Oh, Scar was awake. 'M-hm', Grian murmured without lifting his head. 'It’s fine though, just X being unnerved by Admin duties.'

Scar remained silent. It was almost enough to make Grian believe he had fallen back asleep, but the tension in Scar’s muscles told him otherwise. Grian lifted his head wearily. 'What are you thinking about?' He was scared to ask, but there was no getting around this conversation anyways.

'Well, I’ve only just realised that Xisuma has been praying to you for years. It’s all a little much to wrap my head around.'

'He doesn’t know.'

Scar chuckled and readjusted the blanket around Grian to be more comfortable. 'I figured that much.'

'No, I mean...' Grian trailed off, looking away from Scar’s expectant face. 'This is difficult to put into words. Xisuma has been a follower of Xelqua for so long and he– he probably has no idea of why his patron deity never answers any of his prayers.'

'I think you’re not giving him enough credit here', Scar sounded like the thought somewhat amused him. 'Xisuma has done a whole lot of research on– on you. He told us how, being a runaway and all, nobody knows if you're safe or if you could even hear us. He wouldn’t dare to expect being listened to, least of all being answered. Uncertainty kind of comes with the territory, you know, when the other Watchers did their very best to erase the name Xelqua from the books.'

Grian winced at the sound of His Name, distantly noting how Scar’s eyes went wide, seeing the glow in Grian’s eyes. He looked away from Scar self-consciously.

'That's… a lot to take in, actually, but– Still, well, he has no idea that I know all the little things he’s let slip in his prayers over the years. There’s just so much... I’ve been deceiving him for so long, now, on top of everything else, that it just… As somebody he looks up to in whatever capacity, void knows why, I feel like I’ve failed him.'

It felt surprisingly good to say it out loud, Grian noted with a sense of wonder, like putting it into words was starting to unravel the big knot of emotions in his chest, sorting them into neat little packages of problems to be unpacked one at a time.

'And now that he’s being all vocal about his faith and teaching... recruiting people to follow Xelqua, I just don’t know how to act around him anymore. Or any of the Hermits, honestly.'

A soft hand on his cheek surprised Grian, turning his face back towards Scar. Scar’s voice was soft as he spoke: 'You have been keeping all of this to yourself for so long and I’m so, so happy you decided to share this with me today. We’ll find ways to make it better, I promise.'

Like he didn’t owe it to Scar to at least attempt some sort of an explanation for the major breakdown he had just witnessed.

Grian let out a choked sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a cry. And since when was he breathing this heavily? He needed a second to take stock of his body again. Scar waited patiently while Grian ordered his thoughts, hand moving from Grian’s cheek to stroke his hair softly.

Finally, Grian lifted his head to look into Scar’s eyes. 'And what about you?'

'What about me?'

'You’ve been... following Xelqua for quite a while now.'

Scar giggled. 'I adore you, Grian, now more than ever. But I’ll save that kind of worship for someone I don’t know personally. Knowing you just makes you that much less impressive of a mythical figure.' 

Some tension seemed to seep out of Grian as he took in Scar’s teasing words, leaning into Scar’s hand even as he answered in mock affront,  'Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?'

They were still giggling when the next prayer reached Grian and tugged at his magic. He reflexively closed his eyes, tried not to wince as he clamped down on his control, his headache skyrocketing again. Still, Scar noticed. 'Another prayer? I’ve seen you clam up like this pretty often lately and I’ve always wondered what it meant. You’re getting a lot of prayers, aren’t you?'

Grian’s grimace was laced with a small smile and the attempt of rolling his eyes. 'Yeah, well, lately there have been twenty-something people with a profound interest in telling me about all their hopes and dreams and everything that’s even remotely frustrating in their life. Before this Season, there were only ever a handful of Players and most of them I didn’t know.'

Silence descended on the room for a second and Grian sighed and started to tuck his wings back to himself to sit up slowly, so as to not aggravate his headache even more. 'You don’t have a regen potion on you by chance, do you?', he huffed as he rubbed his eyes.

'Oh! I do, actually!' Scar pulled the purple-filled glass bottle out swiftly while he shifted the blanket around Grian to support his sitting, hunched-over form carefully. 'Why do you need one, though? You aren’t hurt, are you?'

Grian answered Scar’s worried gaze with a broad, thankful smile as he quickly plucked the potion from Scar’s hands and pulled the cork with precision that spoke of experience. 'Thanks, you’re a lifesaver. They help with the constant headaches.'

'Constant headaches?'

Grian shrugged, trying to play it off as he pocketed the now-empty bottle. 'I’ve had them for months now. Honestly, I don’t remember the last time I didn’t have a headache. They’re probably chronic by now. Just another symptom of all this Watcher-business.'

'Months?', Scar sounded alarmed before he collected himself again. 'Regen’s not meant for chronic pains, though?'

'Sure, it’s not the intended use, but it works, so it’s fine by me.'

'Grian… how long have you been taking these potions regularly?'

'Well, I haven’t found anything better yet.' It wasn’t an answer, more of a non-sequitur really, but it told Scar all that he needed to know. He had that sad and pondering look again, like he had a lot to think about. 

It made Grian’s heart stutter nervously. He felt like Scar was going to say something he wouldn’t like – again. And so he sat and waited for the next shoe to drop.

'You know that if you told them, they would stop, right?'

Grian’s shoulders sagged as he buried his head in his hands. 'It’s not that simple, Scar.'

'Isn’t it?'

'I have never told anybody about this.'

'Oh. Not even Mumbo?'

'Not even Mumbo.'

'I could have sworn Pearl knew, with those glances she’s been sending you whenever the topic came up.'

Grian chuckled desperately. 'Pearl doesn’t– she thinks–' He broke off and tried again. 'It’s complicated.'

When Scar just hummed and stayed quiet, Grian let his mind wander to the Hermits. 'I can’t tell them. I used to be so afraid they would fear me, and now I am even more afraid they’ll revere me. I never wanted to be anyone but Grian, a simple Avian with a talent to entertain people.'

'Okay. Just… think about it, please?'

'If i have to listen to Beef call me a son of a biscuit one more time i swear I’m going to find a way to re-name every single copy of map art he has ever made', Grian complained to Scar a couple of days later. It was a heady feeling, openly talking about the prayers. Scar had made a habit of asking about them whenever he noticed – and he noticed quite many, with how much time they were spending together.

Right now, however, instead of laughing, Grian opened his eyes to Scar staring at him intensely, like he was trying to figure out a specifically difficult puzzle. 'What?'

'I just noticed you still close your eyes or avert your gaze whenever somebody prays to you. You know you don't have to do that for me, right?'

Oh, that was true. Grian hadn’t even noticed, but it made sense to him. 'It’s reflexive. And that’s probably for the best, really. If I start letting my guard down around you and someone else walks by… It’s not exactly very avian for your eyes to start randomly glowing a creepy purple, is it?' 

Scar raised a finger to his chin as if he was thinking deeply before grinning and pulling out his expensive Hotguy sunglasses and placing them on Grian’s face. 'Here, you keep these. Now, nobody can see your eyes. I know it’s not a perfect solution, but at least you have one less thing to worry about.'

'Scar, no. I– thank you so much, but there’s no way I can accept this. These are your Hotguy glasses. And I don't really wear sunglasses regularly anyways.' Even while he was protesting, Grian noticed how his shoulders relaxed with one less worry weighting on his mind. 'Not that I couldn’t see with them, really, my night vision is at least as good as Pearl’s, but nobody knows I can see better than the average Player. So sunglasses would… feel suspicious.'

Scar just smiled at him sweetly. Really, he looked like the cat who got the cream.

'Better than average sight, huh?' He drawled. 'So I’m guessing you didn’t ever really need those reading glasses of yours either, then?'

Grian felt caught. 'Not really, no', he admitted honestly, 'I used to need them – before. Now they actually make my sight worse. I wear them for aesthetics mostly… and to make sure Mumbo doesn’t get suspicious. But sometimes, they have actually come in useful in preventing me from getting overwhelmed when I’m just Seeing too much. Kind of like Ren has his sunglasses to combat his light sensitivity, I guess.'

'Oh. Well, that’s perfect, then.'

Scar’s gleeful tone left Grian confused. Scar just chuckled and tapped his temple to indicate the glasses. 'You’re already using them to aid you in your daily life.'

'I guess I am. It’s… I never really thought much about it. They’re just glasses, after all.'

'They’re not just glasses, though', Scar scolded lightly. 'Glasses are important disability aids for many people with bad eyesight. Or in Ren's and your case too-good eyesight, I guess?' He chuckled. 'You should feel free to use them more regularly, take them with you instead of leaving them at home.' Scar waved his cane at Grian. 'It doesn’t matter if you always need them or not. What matters is that they make you feel safe. And–' The excited grin was back on his face. 'If I can enchant them with a little Vex glamour, I bet they can hide the glow of your eyes as well.'

Grian gaped at him.

In just a couple sentences, Scar had managed to make him feel safe and empowered with new tools to cope.

'I… Thank you, Scar. That means a lot to me.'

Scar just waved him off with a sheepish smile. 'Anytime, songbird.'

Grian hesitantly smiled back at him while taking off the sunglasses and pinning them back on Scar's shirt. 'There’s something on your mind again, isn’t it?'

Scar shrugged, his smile contagious and almost blinding. 'Well, I was just thinking how glad I am that I’m in a space where I am able to introduce you to the importance of daily living aids.' 

There was a brief pause, like Scar was contemplating whether or not to continue talking.

'You know about how I grew up with the Vex, right?' Scar continued on without waiting for an answer. 'The Vex are… chronically narcissistic, xenophobic and very ableist. Never again have I seen a community of people this full of themselves. That left me with a lot to re-learn after my disability started to manifest, had me spiralling into a dangerous space of self-hatred stemming from internalised ableism.' 

It was rare to hear Scar talking in a voice this sombre and even more rare for him to talk about his past. Grian noticed that he had instinctively moved closer and puffed up his wings as if to protect Scar. 

Scar gave him a soft look in return before he put his crooked grin back on in the blink of an eye. 'Oh, but all of that is way in the past now, of course! I’ve come a long way since then and surrounded myself with amazing and supportive people. And I can rely on my friends… I really don't think I could have done it without Cub. Oh man, have I ever told you how Cub and I met?'

Grian listened to Scar's childhood memories for hours and hours. When he finally fell asleep that night, it was to dreams of young Vexes and old Watchers, of rebellion and running away, of dreams for a better future and the path to self-acceptance.

Notes:

Happy Birthday to myself lol
Can you tell this chapter was very close to my heart? Giving Scar some character depth in a helpful and respectful way <3 and yes, I went the extra mile and asked a couple of friends with disabilities if I worded this correctly.
Anyways life is a little stressful right now and I haven't finished the next couple of chapters yet, so you might have to wait a few days for the next update. There's a lot of dialogue coming up and... well, it's not my forte, dialogue takes me forever to write and even longer to edit xD

Chapter 13: Chapter Twelve - Resolve

Summary:

Grian: X I love ya but ur voice gives me a headache
Xisuma: umm what?
Grian: not in a mean way, more of in a I'm the god u worship way
Xisuma: Ohhhh ok. WAIT WHAT
(Chapter Summary by GoodtimeWithcats208)

In the end, it was Grian who brought it up again, letting himself fall sideways onto his bed with a groan. He desperately wanted to numb his headache with potions, but Scar was right here and would look at him with his disappointed puppy eyes. So instead, Grian put his glasses to the side and covered his eyes with his hands, half-heartedly complaining to Scar about the worship he received.

It felt sour, somehow, to rant at Scar when he had proposed a solution already.

'Perhaps you’re right.'

'Hm? What about?'

'Perhaps I should tell people. About me. I never let myself actually consider it before, but… now that you know – well, the wall of silence is already broken. It’s just– What if they’ll treat me differently? I don’t know if I’m ready for that.'

Scar gently pried Grian’s hands from his face and took them in his. 'I can only imagine, sweetheart. But this doesn’t seem to be a thing you’ll ever be ready for, does it?'

Fair point, Grian thought.

'If you think this is something you might want, start by deciding who you’re gonna tell first. Start small. And remember that nobody is entitled to know anything about you.' Scar instructed, soothingly. 'I’m sure that if you give us the chance, all of the Hermits will be thrilled to help you.'

Grian felt like a deer caught in headlights from just thinking about telling someone, his heart pounding like he was facing a fight or flight situation. And Scar was urging him to fight.

Who would he even tell? 

Mumbo seemed to be the obvious first choice – but Mumbo wasn’t here and this surely wasn’t a conversation to have over his communicator.

Pearl deserved to know. Of all the Hermits, she was the one who deserved the truth most. And yet, even the thought of telling her made Grian’s stomach turn. Nobody is entitled to know, Grian repeated Scar’s words in his head and moved on.

And oh, Xisuma was asking for guidance and patience again. Was he still trying to work out the mystery of that odd security breach? It had been days and judging by his prayers, Xisuma had not truly rested since he found the issue.

Grian made up his mind right then and there.

'Your eyes are really pretty when they turn purple.' 

Grian blinked at Scar, bewildered, startled out of his thoughts. 'Thank you, I guess. You’d be the first to think so. Come and get up, will you? I have tea to deliver today.'

Grian was never one to choose the easiest options, after all.

'I didn’t think you’d do it right now!', Scar sounded astonished. They were sitting on the stairs in front of Xisuma’s starter base, a packet of tea in Grian’s nervous hands. 'If I don’t do it now, I’ll lose my nerves for sure.'

Scar regarded him for a long while. 'If you’re really, one hundred percent certain... I don’t want you to feel pressured to do this.'

Grian reached for Scar’s hand, ignoring the panicked beating of his heart. He knew he needed a step forward, even if he was overthinking if this was the right one. Not that Scar needed to know about that – the guy seemed about as nervous as Grian.

'Scar, when have you ever known me to do something I truly didn’t want to do?' He sounded a lot more confident than he actually felt.

'Ah. Okay, good. Just... tell me if I can do anything to help?'

'Stay with me?'

'Anytime, songbird.' The smile Scar sent him was blinding. Grian’s heart clenched as he remembered how dead-set he’d been on keeping Scar out of his heart. If Scar hadn’t been so persistent, if he wasn’t just as stubborn as Grian, if he hadn’t been in the right spot at the right time… Well, they would be in a very different situation right now. Whether that was good or bad, only time would tell. 

Grian gave a hesitant smile to Scar and took a deep breath. 'Thanks.'

It didn’t take too long after that for Xisuma to arrive. Even though he was aware that Xisuma had gotten close to them, Grian just about jumped out of his skin and reflexively hid the tea in his inventory as he heard the sounds of an Elytra closing not too far away. He thought about getting up from his seat on the ground, but then he would have had to let go of Scar’s hand and he really didn’t want to do that. So instead, Grian flexed his wings nervously as he caught sight of X on the path not far ahead. 

Scar’s thumb moved across the back of his hand soothingly. 

'Well hello there, Xisuma!', Scar greeted with a smile.

'Hello, friends', X answered, face unreadable with the way the sun bounced off his helmet. 'I'm so sorry for the wait. I’ve been trying to track down a security breach and not checking my communicator all that often.'

'I am actually surprised you got here this fast', Grian tried for a light and put-together tone, but it came out shaky. 

No going back. 

'Which is good. Gives me less time to chicken out.' He knew that he was somewhat stammering, and his smile was not reaching his eyes despite his best efforts. In an instant, Xisuma’s body language shifted into something softer. 'Oh my days, of course. Do you want to come inside for this?'

No, actually, Grian really didn’t want to be in a closed space at all. Still, he bit down his words as he hopped to his feet and helped Scar up with the hand that he was still holding. He would just have to deal with it.

Scar looked over to him and squeezed Grian's hand softly. Grian shot him a thankful smile, leaning towards him and shielding Scar’s back with one of his wings in a caring, nervous gesture he had often done during Third Life. Scar noticed it, too. 'It’s alright, sweetheart, we’re safe here', he whispered, searching for eye contact to give more weight to his words. 'You’ll be just fine. I promise.'

Grian found that having Scar by his side had quite a soothing effect on him. Still, it didn’t weigh up to the calming effect of being under the open sky. A remnant of his avian flight-instincts screamed as he followed Xisuma inside.

'So, what brings you here today?' Xisuma asked, looking back over his shoulder while leading them inside and sitting down on the nearest chest. The indoor lighting made it easier to see his face behind the glass visor, attentive eyes smiling softly.

'Well, first of all', Grian stated and reached into his inventory. He tried for a playful tone of voice as he tossed the small packet over to Xisuma. 'Unrelated to the main topic: Grian’s Tea Delivery Service for Stressed Admins is back in business!'

Xisuma barely caught the packet as it bounced off his chestplate, looking surprised but amused. 'That’s… Are you the one who's been secretly gifting me tea whenever I’ve been overworking myself?'

Grian shrugged. 'I’ve had too much on my mind lately, but I do try to make sure you remember to take care of yourself.'

Xisuma chuckled, lighthearted. 'How did you even know I like this brand of tea? I only told you about it a couple of months ago!'

Oh. That was probably as much of a segue as he was ever going to get.

Grian took a deep breath.

For as much as he had dreaded this moment, the precipice of speaking his horrible truth, he didn’t let himself even consider turning back in this moment as he searched for the right words. Had he planned this, maybe he would have thought of some dramatic reveal – but maybe it was better this way, bluntly ripping off the bandage. 

'I…'

He would just say it. A string of words, simple. I am Xelqua.

Now. He would say it now.

He had never said it out loud, not even to Scar. He had only ever inferred.

He couldn’t do it.

'You were right, I have been avoiding you this Season.'

It broke Grian’s heart to see the way X reacted, shrinking back into himself and looking as if he’d just been punched. Silence hung over the room as Xisuma took in a sharp breath and squared his shoulders. Grian felt dizzy as he continued, his heart pounding wildly. 'It wasn’t anything you did, per say… or maybe it was, I guess, it’s complicated. But you kind of ended up in the very centre of my problems without knowing, so– So I tried to keep my distance. And it’s not only you, I’ve been shutting out everyone lately. Anyways, my point is I’m sorry.'

'That’s… I’m not sure I understand.'

'I know… I know. It’s– I’m going to try to explain it. But you have to know that I have never told a single person about this, like, no one. Ever. I don’t even know how to begin talking about this and I– I can’t even begin to imagine how you’ll react and I don’t want to hurt you but I have been misusing your trust for so long and–' 

'Breathe, Grian', Scar interrupted him softly. 

And oh, Grian was gasping for air inbetween his rambled words, breathing in small and shallow bursts of air, close to hyperventilating already. He huffed quietly, closing his eyes. 'Sorry. Sorry, ’m just rambling. Can’t breathe. Think I’m having another panic attack.' It felt odd to say this out loud, but Grian had already started down this path of brutal honesty, so he was going to stick with it, even if it made him grimace. If he started compromising, he would back down from the monumental task in front of him.

'Okay. Well, not okay, but we can deal with that, yeah?' Scar’s voice was soft. 'Tell me five things you can see.'

Xisuma waited patiently as Scar coached Grian through a simple grounding technique, managing to stave off the worst of the panic attack with a practised and calm voice. He was visibly tense, but still he waited until Grian’s breathing had evened out and kept his voice calm when he finally spoke. He sounded sombre. 

'Do I understand this correctly… You tried to tell me about this, whatever you’ve been going through lately, and that’s what triggered you having a panic attack?'

Grian nodded miserably.

'Have you… have you been having panic attacks frequently again?'

Another nod.

Xisuma cursed silently, looking conflicted. Grian knew before Xisuma said it that he was going to choose the responsible route, give Grian an out.

'Do you still want to tell me?'

It would be so easy to say no. Xisuma was confused, hurt probably, but he wouldn’t ask Grian to put himself in a space that triggered any more negative emotions.

Xisuma would just continue to worry in silence, would start to analyse his own behaviour and question all of his interactions with Grian.

For a moment, there was silence as Grian searched for words. He truly didn’t know where to start – After all, how does one tell one’s devout follower that they had been living right next door to their patron deity for years?

Another prayer flooded his senses and Grian closed his eyes out of habit even though he knew he was wearing his glasses. For a second, he felt like he was transported right back to that first night at the pre-Season bonfire, sitting across from Xisuma and shutting his eyes tightly, hoping that nobody would notice. He remembered the way a low-key panic had boiled in his gut as he slowly started to realise the extent of his problems.

'Actually, maybe I can show you instead.'

Was it easier to take off his glasses than to speak the words? No, not really, Grian thought as he slowly raised his arm. It felt heavy, like his bones had turned into lead, and Grian struggled not to crush his glasses with the force of his nervous grip as he tugged them off his face. Scar moved closer to press against Grian’s wing, signalling I’m here and I’ve got you as he held out his free hand, accepting the glasses from Grian before they could accidentally be bent or broken.

At least this way, Grian didn’t have to say the words.

Wouldn’t have to speak his truth.

'This might sound odd, Xisuma, but can you tell me about your patron deity?'

Xisuma looked puzzled at the abrupt change of topic, but it took him only a tick to connect the scene before him to the last time he’d talked to Grian about faith. Grian could see it in the way his eyes squinted, the confusion in his face being replaced by bewilderment.

'I thought you weren’t interested in the Watchers after all, since you never showed up to any of the meetings.'

Grian huffed a pathetic laugh, fixing his gaze on Xisuma’s face and refusing to look away. 'I could beat you in Watcher trivia hundred times over. So tell me what you’ve heard about–' his voice broke. He swallowed.

How pathetic was he, that he couldn’t even say his own Name?

'Xelqua', Xisuma prompted. 'His name is Xelqua.'

Grian could see the glow of his eyes eerily reflected on the visor of Xisuma’s helmet.

As much as he’d had to force himself to look into Xisuma’s eyes instead of hiding, now that it was done, he didn’t dare look away and miss even a fragment of Xisuma’s reaction. The widening eyes, confused furrowing of his eyebrows, mouth parting as if to ask a question. 

'Go on', Grian prodded, his voice barely more than a whisper.

'He– Xelqua is also called the Runaway.'

Xisuma paused again, his face scrunched up in an incomprehensible way as he watched Grian’s eyes light up purple.

'He’s a young Watcher whose history is shrouded in a lot of mystery. Mostly because the Watcher Council tried to delete any notion of His existence after He left, of course.' Another short pause, but Grian’s eyes hadn’t lit up during those last sentences even as he held himself rigid. 'Xelqua is the only Watcher who decided to leave Their society in all the time of Their existence, at least from what I’ve been able to find out.'

'No other Watcher ever attempted to run, before.' Grian answered, voice hollow.

Scar shifted and squeezed his hand in reassurance. Xisuma’s eyes flitted over to Scar for the shortest moment before fixing his intense stare back on Grian. He gave a small nod, like he was thinking about what to say next. It unnerved Grian to no end.

'To me, the story of Xelqua always spoke of new beginnings and of forging one’s own path.'

Xisuma had to suspect something by now. Maybe Grian needed to be more direct. 'I truly never understood how that’s what you focused on. It’s always been about life on the run for me, regrets of the past and a responsibility for other’s happiness that I never wanted and– and keeping secrets from the people close to me.'

Xisuma stood up. It was nearly comical, really, how he towered over Grian in an attempt to look somewhat put-together and authoritative when his emotions were written on his face so plainly. His voice wavered slightly as he finally fit together the puzzle pieces, asking for an affirmation rather than in ignorance.

'Who are you?'

And for the first time, Grian knew it was done. A small smile graced his face even through the trepidation in his voice as he looked up at Xisuma, his devout, his Admin, his friend. 'I’ve left the name Xelqua behind years ago. Please just call me Grian.'

It was surprisingly easy after that. Sure, the atmosphere in the room was tense enough to cut with a knife, but Xisuma didn’t shout nor did he look at Grian with wonderstruck eyes. He had simply sat down again, glancing back to Grian from time to time as if to make sure that this wasn’t a joke.

Grian finally broke the silence by turning his head to Scar to ask for his glasses back. And Scar, oh, Scar was looking at him so softly, proudly. Grian’s nerves shattered. 'I did it', he whispered, His voice sounding watery.

'You did it. I’m so proud of you, Grian', Scar answered, the smile on his face growing.

Grian swallowed, took a deep breath. There were so many emotions bubbling inside of him, from elated wonder to paralysing fear, that he felt like he could burst. He turned, pensively, to look back over to Xisuma, who was watching him with an open, curious expression. He seemed almost bashful. And suddenly, a triumphant laugh bubbled in Grian’s chest.

'The first time I’ve ever told someone on my own terms. You hear that, Ex-eye-sooma-void? It couldn’t have been anyone but you. For all the secrets you shared with me unknowingly over the years, now you finally know the biggest of mine.'

'And what a secret it is.' The pure wonder and fondness in Xisuma’s voice melted the last of Grian’s anxiety, his grin so wide it nearly hurt. 'I feel like I should be a lot more surprised than I am, really.'

'Well, you did say that you imagined Xelqua to be a great fit for Hermitcraft', Scar reminded him, chuckling.

'Oh, my go– My words.' Grian appreciated Xisuma catching and avoiding the religious phrase. X put a hand to his head in a gesture that showed his exhaustion. 'I have so many questions.'

Grian nodded, grimacing. 'Ask away.'

'I’ve had a Watcher secretly bring me tea for years?'

As all three of them dissolved into surprised laughter, Grian thought – for the first time in a long, long while – that perhaps, possibly, he was going to be okay.

Notes:

So apparently this fic went from Grian not communicating at all to 100% dialogue. Oof. Well, now I’m learning how to write dialogue.
Working on the Epilogue chapter now, so I can promise that this fic will be done before Christmas!

Chapter 14: Chapter Thirteen - Acceptance

Things had been understandably awkward between Grian and Xisuma.

X had let them go after minimal questioning that day, caring as he was, as soon as he had realised that Grian was shivering, exhausted after all the nerves had left his body when he finally let himself believe that there was not going to be any life-changing repercussions. 

A couple of his feathers had discoloured while Grian was busy freaking out, but Scar had been paying attention. 'I know you want to keep this under the wraps, so I thought you probably want to hide those before we leave', he had murmured and Grian had nodded at him with a grateful smile. He had simply plucked out the feathers instead of putting in the effort to change them back to their parrot colouring, leaving the feathers with Xisuma, hoping that X wouldn't mind cleaning them up later.

They hadn’t talked since. Grian tried to shrug off the unease as he reminded himself that it was probably because neither of them knew how to approach the other. He also noticed the distinct lack of Xisuma’s prayers.

It was finally a couple of days later when Grian entered his rift room, laden with building supplies and rubbing at his temples to alleviate his headache, that he ran out of excuses and found a reason to talk to Xisuma as soon as possible: There was a new structure sitting in the centre of the room, right across from the rift, polished and gleaming at him with a familiar face.

Oh, this explained so much.

'Xisuma, I found our security breach!' Grian announced as he barreled into Xisuma’s base through his nether portal just moments later. 'You were right about it being an unregistered entity. Remember Grumbot from way back in Season Seven?'

Two pairs of eyes blinked at him.

One of them was Xisuma, of course, looking over to him with wide eyes. Next to him stood Pearl, a hand running through her hair in a frustrated manner.

For a moment, they stood in awkward silence, before Xisuma let out a breath he had been holding. 'Jeez! Grian, my friend, please can you stop dropping absolutely unexpected bombs on me whenever we meet?' Xisuma sounded more amused than annoyed, though, and maybe even a little bit relieved. 'I’m still trying to digest that last one.'

Grian chuckled sheepishly, before stepping forward to hug Pearl in greeting. When he noticed the way Pearl was eyeing him with scrunched up eyebrows, though, he stopped right in his tracks.

Was she mad at him? What for?

'That last one', she repeated, slowly, and Grian’s blood ran cold. 'I wonder if that has anything to do with how Xisuma is suddenly convinced that it would be in everybody’s best interest if he stopped answering my questions about Xelqua.' Grian was suddenly very glad that he was wearing his glasses, even as he looked away quickly, finding Xisuma’s gaze as Pearl continued in a defeated tone, 'And he won’t tell me what happened! '

She doesn’t know, Grian told himself silently. Xisuma kept his secret. Pearl had probably just assumed it had something to do with him because he was the only one on this Server who had a problem with speaking about the Watchers.

Well, she wasn’t wrong.

Xisuma ducked his head in a way that looked bashful, almost apologetic to Grian. Taking a deep breath and trying to calm his racing heart, Grian gave him a small nod. 

'Thank you, X.'

Pearl made an affronted sound. 

Grian answered her with a defeated sigh.

'I took your advice, Pearl. I talked to him.' He explained tiredly, his voice steadier than he thought as he tracked the way Pearl’s posture changed from aggravated glaring to something softer, her shoulders dropping as she looked over to him in surprise.

'You told him…?'

'No, I only told him some of it all. The aftermath. Stuff I haven’t even told you.'

Pearl looked helplessly confused even as she nodded, her wings twitching irritably. Grian noticed his own wings subconsciously mirroring the movement as he looked up at his sister.

She did deserve the truth. And yet Grian knew that she would not speak up, that she would accept his silence and wait patiently until he was ready to talk to her.

It‘s not a thing you’ll ever be ready for, Grian remembered Scar saying.

Actually…

'Say, X, do you mind sharing some of the tea I brought over last time? I think some storytime with Grian might be in order here.'

By the time the three of them nervously settled around a hastily put-up coffee table, the mysterious appearance of Grumbot was long forgotten.

'Evolution was the first time I was the sole Admin of a Survival Server.' Grian didn’t know where to start, so he chose the very beginning. 'I had never even heard of the Watchers before that. We started on an old beta seed, thinking we would upgrade through the versions as we went along.'

He looked up to see Pearl smiling, small and anxious, but a smile nonetheless. Xisuma meanwhile was listening so attentively, earnestly, it made a knot form in Grian’s stomach. Really, Grian thought in uneasy amusement, Xisuma looked like he was ready to pull out a notepad and start taking notes any time now.

Grian could’t fault him for it. 

So, he forced himself to look away and continue. 'One Watcher took interest in our Server almost immediately. They seemed harmless at first, taking care of administrative duties before I could get to them and setting up interesting riddles for us to solve in return. And really, I was glad for Their help. You know how overwhelming Admin duties can be in the beginning.'

Xisuma nodded.

'Still, I never cared much for authority and this Watcher was no different. We would often put our own spin on Their tasks, sometimes ignore them altogether. And I was the ringleader, a hotheaded young boy, barely a grownup, who somehow thought he could bear the responsibility for his Players.' Grian swallowed. 'They took Taurtis first.'

Pearl reached out to take Grian’s hand and he gave her a thankful smile as he squeezed her hand.

'I was reluctant to invite Pearl onto the Server after that, but I was so happy to get to live on the same Server with her that I ignored the risk I was putting her in.'

Xisuma made a sound, something between sharply sucking in air and a hiccup. Grian didn’t need to look over to know that he had connected what Grian was describing to the story Pearl had told them that evening around the bonfire. He knew how the story of Evo was going to end.

'I truly thought that we had seen the worst of the Watchers, you know, until suddenly there were two. And They doubled up on Their games, Their demands, Their punishments. Taurtis… he’s still with Them, you know? He was the one who convinced Them that I was worth taking in, even with all the trouble I had caused.'

Pearl made a distressed sound. Grian moved his wing to cover her side, comforting.

'When I finally met Taurtis again after Evo, He had his own Worlds to watch, Players to pray to Him. He had seen the rise and death of so many worlds, He had become detatched – uncaring and cruel. Twisted, I believe Pearl called it before. That’s when I knew I never wanted to become like Them, no matter what They did to break me. I learned all Their whys and hows, Their needs and Their philosophy, but I could not be part of Their carefully crafted society when I knew how some of Them were treating my friends like… like a bunch of ants. Objects, even, replaceable.'

Grian had to swallow again. He had been breathing irregularly – not erratic, but enough to make his throat feel parched. His hand was shaking when he lifted a cup of tea to his lips.

'So what happened to you?' Pearl asked, softly, like Grian couldn’t feel the way her hand was shaking silently. 'I remember you saying goodbye in a dream, just before They told us not to worry and that they were taking you. They brought us back to a destroyed Spawn, effectively without an Admin, and had us travel far off and start building a new home all over. By the time we were finally settled and safe enough to search for you… It was like you had been wiped out of existence. We even had the Listeners involved, trying to find any mention of your name – Jimmy and Martyn were so distraught when they couldn’t find a sign of you.'

Grian blinked. 

Listeners, huh?

'They wouldn’t have found anything if they were searching for Grian. I was going by a different name at the time.'

His breath caught in his throat. They were getting closer now, the core of his secrecy burning away slowly, steadily.

'I was looking for ways to get back, at first. To make sure you were safe and happy and doing fine without me. Maybe challenge Evo’s Watchers to let me interact with you again, like They had done with Taurtis. They didn’t like that.' A sound escaped from his throat, one that should have been a dry laugh, but instead it came out watery and broken. 'They told me that my affection was a weakness, that I had to realise I was with Them now and that meant I was above all of you… void-forsaken lies that They truly believed in Their hunger for power. And when They noticed I wouldn’t bend to their ideology, They showed me Spawn.'

Grian felt oddly numb. He was sure he had to be crying from how clogged up his voice sounded, even though he couldn’t feel the tears on his face.

'They let me believe you were all dead, Pearl. And it was only because They were trying to teach me a lesson.' His voice was barely more than a whisper now. 'You were my responsibility, my Players from the start. And you were all paying the price for my stupidity, for my irresponsibility, for my childish resistance. Pearl, I thought I had killed you.'

'Can I hug you?'

Grian was surprised to hear Xisuma’s voice so subdued, almost hurt. It took some effort for Grian to tear his eyes off Pearl, clinging to her hand tightly just as she was clinging back, but what he saw in Xisuma’s face was horrified understanding.

He had been an Admin for far longer than Grian. He knew what it was like to fear for the safety of those he had promised to protect.

Grian nodded, barely, and then he had a lapful of Xisuma, strong arms snaking around his back, cradling him safely and taking care not to rub against his wings.

Grian was tugging Pearl in to join the hug, Xisuma opening his arms to encase her as well. He barely noticed when they ended up on the ground because one seat was not enough for three people. He didn't react when Xisuma whispered to them, 'I am so sorry you had to go through all of that.'

They stayed like this until Pearl‘s and Grian‘s sobs had run out.

They held onto each other even as Grian tensed over the sound of being cursed out by Doc. Xisuma‘s communicator pinged at the same time, most likely a Server warning informing him of whatever Doc had just broken, Grian thought. Xisuma ignored it for now.

When they finally let go of each other, their tea had long gone cold. Pearl picked up her cup and grimaced. 'I’ll go and heat my tea real quick. I think we could all use the break. Want me to heat yours as well?' Her voice was still sniffy from crying and Grian could see the hesitation in her movements as she moved away. Still, he could very well understand the urge to be alone for a minute to order her thoughts.

'Yes, please.' His voice sounded just as rough as Pearl’s. He stayed on the ground as she got up and collected all three cups, Xisuma thanking her and not taking his eyes off her, watching protectively until she had left the room.

Grian didn‘t look up. He didn’t feel like talking to Xisuma right now. So instead, he took off his glasses and started cleaning them with one of his sweater sleeves, let the silence spread in the room. Only when he was certain that his glasses couldn’t get any cleaner even with magic, he finally put them away and looked up to find–

Xisuma was playing with one of the Watcher feathers. Grian could only stare in bafflement as X mindlessly twirled the void-colored feather between his fingers. 

Grian was sure his face was burning red.

'You kept them?'

Xisuma blinked. 'I… yes? They felt too precious to just be thrown out. Should I not have?'

'No, it‘s alright, I guess. I was just surprised. You should keep them.'

He paused before continuing, sheepishly: 'It’s very rare for Avians to give away their feathers, you know? Usually it’s seen as… somewhat of a claim. Wearing a feather means you’re part of an Avian’s flock.'

Xisuma blinked in surprise for a tick before a blush spread on his cheeks as he ducked his head in embarrassment. 'That’s right, Mumbo always wears one of your colourful feathers on the lapel of his suit, doesn’t he? I didn't mean to intrude... Ah, I’m such a derp, I should have known there were cultural implications.'

Grian couldn’t help but giggle.

'What’s so funny, then?', Pearl asked from behind him. This time, Grian wasn’t startled. Instead, he turned to her with a wide grin. 'Oh, just look at X being all flustered! Apparently he didn’t know what owning one of my feathers meant!'

Pearl raised her eyebrows, a small amused smile gracing her face. 'Oh, well, in that case, welcome to the family, X', she said nonchalantly, tugging her necklace out of her hoodie, three feathers dangling from it. Jimmy’s canary yellow, Grian knew because he used to have one as well, back then, and because he had seen Tango wear it during Double Life. Then there was one of his own prettiest macaw feathers and another old, worn looking – wait.

'You kept the old one?' Grian shrieked in surprise. What was the deal with people keeping all his random feathers today?

Pearl shrugged, attempting a grin, but she couldn’t keep the heaviness out of her voice. 'Of course I did. It means a lot to me that you gave me a new one, but this was all I had left of you for years, Griba.' She handed Grian his cup of tea back before settling on the ground close to him. 'Which reminds me. Are you feeling up to finishing that storytime? I still don’t know how you managed to cut your ties with the Watchers.'

Grian grimaced. 'I didn’t.'

'Wha’ do you mean? What happened to any connection we have to the Watchers is one too many?'

Xisuma cringed next to him. 

'They made sure that I could never truly move on. And quite effectively, really.' Grian chuckled darkly. 'They made me one of Them , Pearl.'

Grian knew he shouldn’t look. He should just close his eyes, let Pearl come to terms with this new knowledge. He didn’t want to see her heart break.

Still he looked on as emotion after emotion raced across her features. Disbelief, hurt, fear, pity, rage, understanding. Grian’s throat closed up. 

'I’m so, so sorry.' He barely noticed he had said it until Pearl boxed his shoulder.

'Don’t you dare apologise', she snarled at him, close to tears again. 'None of this is your fault. None, you hear me? This is not your fault and I will gladly fight a whole army of asshole deities if that’s what it takes for you to understand that.'

And Grian knew she meant it. He had no doubts that Pearl would march right up to the Watcher council and challenge them to a PvP match for him.

Pearl didn’t hate him, didn’t turn on him for being a Watcher.

Still he couldn’t let go of the guilt nor the self-hate that had burrowed itself so deep into his heart.

'Thank you', he tried to say, but he could barely make a sound with how choked up he felt. 

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

'So', Pearl asked, 'I haven‘t heard of a Watcher named Grian before–' Grian shook his head at that, '–and you did mention earlier that you used to go by a different name.' A nod, tense.

Who are you, Grian remembered Xisuma asking.

'So what’s your name?'

He had never spoken it out loud.

He knew, logically, that he just had to say it. One single word would be enough. So why was it so hard?

He would be putting his own truth out there, irrevocable, he would make himself vulnerable–

There was a hand on his shoulder.

'Do you want me to take over?' Xisuma asked softly, making Grian look up at him im surprise. Xisuma held his gaze steadily, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth, barely visible over the glare of light reflecting from his helmet as he leaned in. Still, Grian knew it was there. 'After all, I’ve recently learned that there’s a few key details which have been missing from the lessons I’ve been giving.'

And oh, Grian could see where this was going. It made him smile. 'Please.'

'So, Pearl' Xisuma spoke calmly, 'I'm about to tell you a story you might have heard before. See, I follow this young Watcher who is known for being the first, the only one in all the wide Watcher Pantheon to leave Their society and run away. Even though the Council tried to erase His name from the books, He is well spoken of between kindred spirits, the misfits, the runaways, people in search of hope, a home, a new start. But most importantly, after what I’ve heard today, is that He is known to be fiercely protective of those that are important to him.'

When Pearl looked at Grian this time, there was no fear in her face, only wonder.

'Xelqua', she said and Grian wondered if he still had his glasses on when she didn’t flinch, didn’t react to the eerie glow of his eyes. Instead, she smiled.

'The past months must have been so hard for you.'

'They were', Grian admitted. 'But without them, I’d still be stuck in my web of denial and lies, trying so hard to forget. Maybe… just maybe, now I can finally start to heal.'

He was surprised to find that he believed himself.

Notes:

Taurtis is Evo’s second Watcher.

Only one more chapter left now, so let me take this chance to say thank you to everyone for the amazing support. I never would have dared to expect this, but I found myself really looking forward to reading your comments on every single chapter. It is thanks to you that my motivation to continue did not waver even once.
I am not much of a commenter myself but I’ve decided I want to change that now, after seeing just how much positive impact your comments had for me.

Chapter 15: Epilogue - Healing

'Mumbo, please. You built his brain, you’ve got to have an idea on what Grumbot is doing here!', Grian wailed at his communicator. He had just met up with Scar and Xisuma at Spawn, but he was already at his wits’ end. Nobody on the Server had any idea on how the rift worked – well, that was to be expected, he had built that thing out of pure Watcher magic, after all, but it meant that he had to take responsibility for whatever happened with it, especially since Grumbot had mysteriously appeared.

The added stress didn't do much good for his headache, even though it had gotten slightly better now that X, Scar and Pearl all had stopped their praying. And he didn't need much sleep anyways, right?

Next to him, Scar chuckled. 'It’s kind of adorable how you start huffing and puffing when Mumbo doesn’t answer right away. I’m sure he will come up with an answer soon enough. And you can always just ask him in person next week, right?'

Grian sighed, stopping his furious typing. 'A lot can happen in a week, Scar. And leaving the Server to visit Mumbo with a security risk still sitting around unsolved still doesn't sit right with me. I’d rather we fix this now.'

'Grian', Scar whined.

'Scar has a point, Grian', Xisuma tried, but was quickly cut off by Grian whipping his head around at a speed he hadn’t mustered in months.

'If you say I’m overworking myself, X, I’m going to have to call double standards.'

Xisuma put on a pouty, playfully indignant voice as he joked, 'Ah! I would never!', making the three of them giggle lightly. 'Really, though, I appreciate you working this hard, but you should get some rest, spend time with your boyfriend and pack for your trip to see Mumbo.'

'Yes, babe, come spend some time with your boyfriend', Scar crooned in Grian’s ear, finally cracking his serious facade and making him laugh.

'Okay, fine! You win!', Grian attempted a dramatic sigh over his chuckles, finally pocketing his communicator and reaching for Scar's hand with a soft grin. 'Sap. Why don't we head over to your base for some quality time with my boyfriend then?'

Next to them, Xisuma coughed, blushing furiously and looking scandalised. 'Nononono! You keep your dirty implications away from me, please. I do not want to hear that from the deity I've been praying to for years!'

Grian didn't have the heart to tell him that he meant nothing more than relaxing cuddles as he joined in with Scar's open, bubbling laughter. Soon enough, Xisuma was chuckling along, having gotten over his embarrassment and looking amused. 'Jeez', he stated, 'This is messed up! And to think I had a crush on you at the beginning of Season Six…'

'You did?' Grian looked up in surprise. 

Scar just grinned wolfishly and nodded along, ‘Well, yes, who didn’t? Tell me more, tell me more!’

'Ah, well, you see, Grian did an impressive live dance performance for me quite early in the season…' Xisuma started with a devious grin, instantly on board with Scar’s obvious attempt to playfully embarrass Grian.

Grian gave an indignant yelp in response. He was fairly sure he was blushing way more than Xisuma now as he thought back to his impromptu guinea pig dance, to how awkward he had felt around Xisuma back then and how he hid behind his charming and flamboyant front. Scar was talking again, looking highly amused at Grian’s reaction.

'Oh, yes, I remember Ariana Griande! She was really hot.'

Grian decided that silence was his best option here. Xisuma meanwhile was nodding sagely, even though he was barely holding back his laughter. 

Scar looked like he was about to ask more questions when the group heard the sound if rockets overhead and a moment later, the Soup Group landed next to them.

'You two go on, I‘ll catch up in a minute', Pearl waved Gem and Impulse away with a smile as she walked up to Grian to pull him into a hug. Grian could faintly make out Impulse giggling about how Scar was going to get a mean shovel talk as he and Gem walked off to wait a short distance away. Scar must have heard it as well, judging by how he went rigid beside Grian when Pearl turned to him, but she just pulled him in for a squeezing hug before offering a much softer hug to Xisuma as well. Grian reached for Scar’s hand with a smile, offering an open wing for safety as Scar slowly relaxed again.

Grian’s communicator buzzed with a message from Mumbo.

That’s my flock all complete, Grian thought happily. Until just lately, the mention of flock would have been just another reminder of the absence of his Avian instincts, of all he had lost to the Watchers. Now, though, Grian only felt satisfaction as he looked at his family, the realisation only broadening his dopey smile.

'Grian, Griba, my dear brother!' Pearl sounded excited, 'Rumor has it that you’re working on another installment of the Life games!'

Ah. 'What’s a man got to do to keep a secret around here?' He grumbled, playing his part with a fond roll of his eyes. Grian had only spoken about that once, bringing it up to Scar a few hours ago. Ha'd been around Scar since then, so Pearl couldn’t have heard it from him. Grian dared to guess. 'I take it Timmy and Martyn are excited for it then.'

'Well of course!' Pearl huffed as if to say obviously. 'Martyn told me about it. I can’t wait to see what rules you came up with this time.'

Grian chuckled. 'Well, you’re going to have to wait another while. There will be a Season Four, but it probably won’t be until next year. I kind of rushed into Double Life, but for this new Season I want to take my time, get it right and enjoy the process, you know?'

Pearl nodded, satisfied with his answer. Still, Grian wasn’t surprised when she asked: 'Will you tell them?'

'I don’t know yet.' 

Well, Martyn and Jimmy most likely already knew, Grian thought. He remembered Jimmy’s reaction back in Double Life, how calm and understanding he had been – how he had made sure Tango backed up from asking questions.

Tango, who had never judged him for panicking at the mention of Xelqua, who had learned about the Watchers in childhood just like Xisuma had, who had Jimmy’s trust.

'I think I want to tell Tango next.'

Xisuma nodded in the corner of Grian’s vision. 'That’s a great idea. Tango has always been serious and respectful when he heard me talking about you.'

Grian grimaced. 'I don’t know how comfortable I am with you saying you talked about me… a part of my history, maybe, but I am so much more than that guy.'

Xisuma nodded. 'Thank you for telling me. How would you like me to phrase it, then? I figured you wouldn’t want me to use the name Xelqua too much since, uh…'

'Since my eyes glow every time.' Grian shrugged uneasily. 'I guess I don’t particularly like that either, but now that Scar put his Vex glamour on my glasses, it’s not so bad anymore.'

Quiet descended on the group for a few ticks before Pearl spoke up again, keeping her tone intentionally light to dispel the awkwardness. 'So, are we gonna talk about Tango or…? Because my friends are still waiting over there.'

Grian looked over to where Impulse and Gem were still idling around out of listening range. Impulse was one of the people closest to Tango, wasn't he. Grian hadn't interacted with him all that much this Season, at least not compared to last Season when they were neighbors in Boatem. He remembered both Impulse and Gem starting to pray to Xelqua quite early on, remembered how easy-going Impulse used to react to whatever Boatem threw at him, how Gem seemed to pick up faith in Xelqua more because it seemed funny at the time than because of a deeper spiritual reason. Grian gulped and squeezed Scar’s hand as he made up his mind, waving them over.

'Hey everyone, what’s going on?' Impulse greeted as he got closer.

'Impulse, I could use your help', Grian spoke quickly, his heartrate skyrocketing again. 'See, I’ve decided I'm going to tell Tango something about me, but I don’t know him all that well, so I’m a little lost on how to go about it.'

Next to him, Pearl had caught on to his plan, going wide-eyed and reaching out to take his other hand. Xisuma was nodding at him with an encouraging smile. Scar had stepped closer to his side.

'Uh, sure, okay.' Impulse shrugged, sharing a slightly confused glance with Gem, but still he smiled openly. 'So what is it that you want to tell him?'

Grian gulped. He was tense, standing here, openly, in the middle of their Spawn area, and he felt incredibly vulnerable. His mind wanted to remind him again of the fact that he'd never spoken the words, of how scary it was and how everything could go wrong if Gem or Impulse reacted badly. But Grian was not about to back down from this challenge – a fresh chance to break old patterns and to start healing. 

After all, Grian was nothing if not stubborn. And this time, he had his family right here to back him up.

'I am Xelqua.'

Notes:

We have arrived at the end. One last snippet before I declare the whole thing finished:
That clip where Grian first arrives in Tumble Town during the S9 Crossover with Empires and he tells Jimmy: 'Did you think you could escape? You’re not even safe in your own SMP! You can’t hide from me.'
Remember that? Yeah.
That’s the first time Grian ever makes joke about being a Watcher.
Scar and Jimmy are so proud of him.