Chapter Text
Growing up Tommy could always count on certain pieces to separate his dad from the rest of the hermits. It wasn’t that hard. The five year old could recognize the color of a red jumper that was always worn. He could tell apart Pearl’s moth wings from Grian’s parrot feathers. He could see the similar hair color he shared with his dad. Even just recognizing him from the dark void eyes his father had.
He had absolutely no problems recognizing Grian so long as he was in his normal outfit. If you asked the kid if recognized him every time, he’d give you a firm yes and would question why you’d ask. Had you asked Grian, though, or even Scar they would laugh and recite one of the many times Tommy confused Grian for a completely different person. And it wasn’t just Grian, too, for some reason the kid couldn’t make out anyone he knew if they changed from their normal outfit. He still hadn’t learned the faces of the hermits even after months of living with them.
The Hermits had no idea about the apparent problem, since many of them kept to the same wardrobe. The first time it happened had panicked Grian and Scar both when the younger couldn’t recognize either one of them.
It had come up when Scar was helping Grian clean out his season-to-season storage. Grian wanted to get rid of some of the unneeded collection in order to make way for Tommy’s things. To do so they had to clean out Grian’s private storage room that they would make into a bedroom for the younger.
Scar pushed a box away from where he was sitting on the floor. The box was filled with old items from season six: a few Architect artifacts, Sahara blueprints, the first sketches of the Mumbo-stache stealer as well as sketches of Grian’s base.
“What do you think about these?” Scar asked, pulling out a booklet filled with what looked to be random ideas for pranks. He flipped through it seeing a few he remembered from the civil prank war from that season.
Grian looked over from where he was cleaning out more private boxes, he hadn’t wanted Scar looking through. He eyed the booklet trying to remember whatever was inside before snapping his fingers.
“Oh, yeah, season six pranks.” he muttered, walking over to where Scar was sitting. He took the book from where Scar handed it over, flipping through himself, “I kept it in case I ever wanted to reuse or rethink some.”
“And?” Scar asked, wondering if he’d just handed over the doom of the server.
Grian shrugged, dropping the booklet into a pile of things he was deciding to throw out, “I’ve got better ideas.”
Scar nodded, as Grian went back to the other boxes. “You didn’t keep a lot from season six.”
“Didn’t think I was staying around, honestly.” Grian shrugged, again. “I expected to be gone before the season was over. Never happened though, surprisingly. I guess, I just didn’t keep things I was sure I wasn’t ever going to see again if I left.” Grian hummed, waving off the message as if it didn’t worry the brunet.
“What do you mean?” Scar asked, “Why would you have left?”
Grian stayed quiet, he didn’t answer immediately, “I was just sure the past would catch up with me.”
Scar made a slight hum, “Oh,” He muttered, noticing how Grian deflected the question so Scar could no longer ask anymore without going against the Backstory Rule. “Well, you keep more now, right?”
Grian smirked, before motioning to the other section that hadn’t been touched. It was a stack of four or five moving shulker boxes, each labeled with Season Seven on the top. Scar smiled, before standing up and looking closer to the boxes. Each box had a smaller label underneath the Season seven mark: The Barge, The Mansion, HMBS/Sewer Cats, Hermit Challenges!, and finally Mycelium Resistance.
Curious, Scar pulled the box named Hermit Challenges out and opened it up. His eyes widened for a moment before he turned to glare at the parrot hybrid who wasn’t facing him. “It was you!”
Grian jumped from the noise, feathers puffing up, before he spun around to see Scar. The man had his hands on his hips, with a displeased frown on his face. Grian furrowed his brow before noticing the box he’d opened.
Grian snorted, laughing to himself, as his wings laid back down, “It took you this long to figure that out?” He laughed.
“Yes! Do you know how many times I had to rebuild my door!” Scar huffed, crossing his arms. “You little door gremlin!”
Grian smiled, “Blame Mumbo, not me! He’s the one that told me to do it!”
“You know there’s a reason my base doesn’t have a door this season.” Scar poked, “No door to steal if there isn’t one in the first place.”
Grian rolled his eyes, “It was only for the season, don’t worry.” Then he remembered, “But you can’t tell anyone! They still don’t know it was me.”
Scar sighed, closing the box up, “Why’d you keep them anyway?”
Grian shrugged, “It was funny. I can probably get rid of them now, they’re not really serving any purpose anymore.”
Scar nodded, before opening the box once more, “I’m taking my doors back, then.” he announced, stealing his spruce doors away into his inventory. Grian laughed and nodded. Scar shoved the box into the pile with the rest of the things Grian was riding himself off. Then he moved on to the next shulker in the stack: Mycelium Resistance.
“So how many state secrets am I finding once I open this up?” Scar asked, dusting off the box before he opened it. Grian looked over, holding up a blue sweater that he was folding. His eyes were a bit glassy, but once he saw the shulker a tiny smile crept onto his face.
“Nothing classified, you’re free to continue.” Grian announced turning back to the sweater.
Scar nodded, then opened the box, waving a hand away when a cloud of dust erupted. “What’s your plan for this stuff anyway? The things you're keeping that is?”
“Well, they’re not staying in here that’s for sure. I don’t want him getting his hands on a lot of this stuff.” Grian said, referring to the five-almost six year old that was staying with Mumbo at the moment. He turned around to look at the rest of the room, leaning on the counter he’d been working on. “I’m going to need to clean this room out pretty much completely before moving any of his stuff in here. I might just take it over to my main base, there’s plenty of space there. Either that or the train could always use another car.”
Scar nodded, “When are we getting his stuff? I mean how much of it are we going to need to go off the server for?” Scar asked, rummaging through the top items in the box. He saw a few mycelium blocks, cringing as he touched them.
Grian looked up from where he was busying himself, “Um…” He thought for a second, “Xisuma gave me a list to look over…it’s around here…somewhere.” Grian muttered, walking around the room for a certain clipboard with paper on it. The admin had come by earlier that week with a list of items that would most likely be needed seeing as they now had a five year old around. Somehow the admin knew none of the Boatem members would be able to provide the parrot-hybrid with a list.
Which was appreciated by all the boatem members after the wreck of a first week they had. Grian looked under draped clothes, picked up blocks and boxes, he searched under chests and barrels for the thing.
“Did you lose it already?” Scar asked, biting the inside of his cheek.
“No.” Grian grumbled looking between boxes. “It’s around here somewhere. I…just have to remember where I left it.” Scar hummed as Grian continued to look, “I know he’s going to need winter clothes. Cleo’s fabric isn’t heavy enough. Most of the furniture I can make, but X had mentioned toys, books, avian-safe foods, child protection stuff and whatever else was on the list.” Grian listed.
“I think Boatem is plenty safe.” Scar said, pulling out a few items to get to the bottom of the box.
“You tripped and fell into the void today.” Grian pointed out, staring at Scar blankly.
“So he should stay away from the Boatem Hole there’s not a lot-”
“The Nether, villager trading halls with Iron Golems, late night mobs, phantoms are constantly a problem, your base is never lit up fully,” Grian pointed out with a finger directed at the vex, who rolled his eyes and raised a hand to mock him as Grian turned his back, “I need to lock up the cabinets with tools, crafting table and furnaces, make sure no ender crystals are reachable, and finally lock up all this stuff, too.” Grian said, lifting up a box he’d filled and taped closed.
Scar sighed, resting his head on his hand as he leaned forward, “Alright, I get it.” He huffed, as Grian smiled, taking the box outside of the room where the rest of his boxes were being set. When he walked back into the room, Scar was eyeing something at the bottom of the shulker he was rummaging through.
“You kept this?” Scar asked, looking into the box and pulling out what Grian at first thought was just a long cloth. It took him a moment to recognize it as the old Mother Spore outfit that had been used during the Turf War.
Grian blinked, finally seeing the white dress that he’d stuck at the bottom of the box. The dress was sprinkled in a layer of dust, making the pure white cloth look more gray. While staying inside the shulker for so long had wrinkled most of the skirt, it had given the mushrooms that grew off of it time to multiply. Mushrooms colored the dress in purple and reds around the sleeves and skirt.
“Well, I had kind of forgotten about that.” Grian said, as Scar looked over the outfit. “I should probably get rid of it, before it starts spreading to the rest of the box and so on.”
“You didn’t seem that worried about it spreading last season.” Scar huffed, rolling his eyes.
“You know how I feel about resistances.” Grian joked, “You asked for it.” Grian shrugged, moving to pick up the season six shulker and take it out with the rest. Scar watched as Grian walked out, eyes glancing between the dress in his hands and Grian. “Besides,” Grian continued, “I don’t think we need a five/six year old with a mycelium infection. He’s barely managing that cold,” Grian huffed, remembering the many teary eyes and shouting coming from the younger for the past few days.
Scar didn’t say anything in response, continuing to glance between the blond and the clothes in his hands. Grian walked back into the room noticing Scar’s gaze, “What are you doing?”
Scar smirked, “Just imagining.”
Grian squinted his eyes, looking the other over, “Imagining what?”
“Mother Spore and the Mayor.” Scar shrugged, dropping his arms. “It was fun.” He smirked again as bright red coloring rose to the tips of Grian’s ears and cheeks. Grian froze, tight lipped as he waited before responding.
“No.” He shook his head, “I know what you're implying and no. I am not getting distracted.”
“I’d barely call it a distraction! Or procrastination! Just a little break!” Scar grinned, standing up from his spot on the floor. He walked over to the blond, wrapping two arms around the shorter’s shoulders. “I mean if you’re getting rid of it anyway…” He dragged on.
Grian glared at the brunet over his shoulder, crossing his arms. “Scar, you and I both know this will never get done if I stop.”
“One last time…” Scar continued to try.
“And what happens when Tommy-”
“Tommy’s staying with Mumbo anyway! We can finish this stuff tomorrow,” Scar pressed. Grian hummed, as Scar pressed a kiss to the tip of his ear. Grian huffed, squirming out of Scar’s hold easily, having known well before he had every time to move.
“Fine.” He said with a smile himself, he picked up the old outfit himself, scanning it over before turning back to Scar. Scar had a wide grin on his face, while Grian’s was hidden behind a small eye roll. “We tell no one about this.” Grian pointed, as he walked past the vex-hybrid to exit the room. As he did he stretched on his toes to reach a kiss to Scar’s cheek as he left.
Scar chuckled as Grian walked out of the room, most likely to his own to change. The vex took the chance to head back to his own base to quickly grab something himself. If there a certain season seven resistance leader was going to appear it was only fair their opposer got a chance as well.
It didn’t take Scar long to find his own travel shulkers from past seasons even with his unbearable chest monsters, he tended to keep his travel shulkers close. They held a special place in his bedroom, right above his desk. They were barely ever taken down from their spot only on the rare occasion such as this did they make a return.
Scar dug through his shulker finding the colorful mayoral suit that had been tucked away. He quickly threw on the oddly striped pants and purple tailcoat with ease. He even took the time to straighten the red bow tie before flying back out his Swaggon to the avian’s base.
He chuckled to himself as he looked at the time on the pocket watch attached to his pants. It had barely taken him any time at all to fly between bases and change. He’d been quick enough that not even the blond was back from his own room.
He took the extra time to straighten his suit jacket waiting outside avian’s bedroom door. He tried his best to wipe the grin off his face but it persisted as he tucked the white flower into his breast pocket safely.
The door opened slowly as if the other was focused on something else, which looked to be correct as Grian tried to fix one of the skirts.
No matter how many times Scar had seen the other dress up each time it left him speechless. It never mattered who the other was being a mushroom revolutionary, a popstar, a suited architect, or even the man in a chicken costume. Grian had been many things in the past seasons but no matter what Scar found each one beautiful.
Grian looked up from the skirts before erupting into a fit of giggles, “Nice quick change.” Scar bowed, dramatically with a grin. “You better make this worth the while.” Grian said with no malice. Scar paused in his bow, a smirk growing.
“Oh, I will.” Scar said, straightening.
“Hm,” Grian hummed, before grabbing hold of the purple lapels of his jacket, “Good.” And within a second the two were kissing in the hallway of the avian’s base. While Grian pulled the other in, the vex pushed him into the bedroom.
Scar shut the door behind them with the back of his foot. They tore apart just for a moment to look at each other. Scar glanced up at the mushroom hat that dawned Grian’s sandy blond hair.
“I always forget how big that hat is.” He muttered, Grian smiled.
“Puts yours to shame.” Grian whispered, tipping the front of the mushroom cap just enough to look at Scar’s eyes. Scar didn’t waste another moment before the two were kissing again.
When Mumbo was walking Tommy back over to Grian’s base he had no idea what was happening inside. Grian had said that he and Scar would be done cleaning out his storage room by the time the sun went down. So he’d planned to take the younger back a little after the moon started to rise over the back of Boatem.
Tommy had spent the whole day over at his little van and mountain. He’d helped the man pick potatoes and regrow trees. They’d played games in his van. Mumbo had even bored the kid into a nap talking about redstone. By the end of the day, he was playing around on Mumbo’s mountain while the other worked on designing small houses. The closer the sun got to setting though the more tired the smaller became and eventually he was sitting under the canopy of one of Mumbo’s trees.
Mumbo let the younger stay there, as he was content just sitting there, sometimes playing with whatever caught his eyes. It wasn’t until the moon started to see the tips of the moon that he got the younger to walk back to Grian’s to be tucked into bed.
Tommy rubbed his eye with one hand, since his other was being held by Mumbo as they walked through Boatem. They purposefully walked through the lit up areas staying away from spawnable areas that had yet to be fully torched.
Tommy chirped something to the older. While there had been a significant change in the way Tommy talked, progressing from mainly chirps and twitters that only Grian could really understand to a few words and phrases now, he still heavily relied on avian language. He tried to talk to the other Boatem members, but the later it got in the day the harder it was to think about what things meant.
“I don’t know what that one means, bud.” Mumbo reminded, carefully as they passed by the boatem hole. “Think you can tell me in words?”
Tommy stared at the older for a moment, blinking, as they walked before finally answering, “Sleepy.”
Mumbo nodded, “Oh, I see. We’re about to go see Grian. Think you can wait till then so we can get you in bed?” Mumbo said, pointing to Grian’s base that was a lot closer now. Tommy nodded, through a tiny yawn. Mumbo nodded back, but the more they walked the slower Tommy started to be. His legs were not moving as fast as the taller and with the little energy he had left he wasn’t keeping up very well.
Mumbo didn’t think much before picking up the parakeet hybrid and continuing their walk. The younger was lighter than most kids his age. He was an avian for start, which meant he had hollowed bones, which while they did make him lighter and easier to be carried also meant they broke easier. While it hadn’t been a problem yet, with how the kid ran around most days and Boatem’s lack of knowledge of caring for kids, Mumbo was sure it would happen soon.
Tommy didn’t seem to mind being picked up, he rested his head on the man’s shoulder rather than complaining. When Mumbo finally reached the parrot’s door, he knocked expecting the blond to be waiting for him to arrive.
What he didn’t expect was for no one to answer the door.
“Uh, Grian?” Mumbo called after a moment, he tried to look around the windows of the house in case he saw either Scar or Grian. He saw neither. “Grian!”
Tommy whined, feathers puffing up into Mumbo’s face to get him to stop talking. Mumbo apologized quietly, before smoothing the feathers out of his face. Mumbo sighed, knocking once more to no avail.
“Alright then.” Mumbo muttered, before leaning over and setting Tommy back down. The blond whined again, grabbing hold of Mumbo’s pant legs to try and stay close to anything warm against the cold night. “Just for a second, bud.”
Mumbo opened the door which was unsurprisingly unlocked. With the door open, Mumbo ushered Tommy inside and out of the night. He closed the door behind them calling out for Grian once again.
“Gri!” Mumbo called, as Tommy started walking away knowing exactly where he was going. He headed for the stairs that led to Grian’s room where his nest was. Since the younger didn’t have his own room, yet, he’d be staying in Grian’s nest.
Originally, once he’d seen it and was allowed in it for the first time he didn’t get let out for a week. And even after that week, he himself refused to leave the nest for a few more days, much to Grian’s delight.
Mumbo looked over from where he’d been searching for Grian by the kitchen, he stopped Tommy from going upstairs, “Hey, bud, wait just a second, okay?” Mumbo said, much to Tommy’s dislike. The younger pouted, frowning and stomping his foot. Mumbo sighed, he really didn’t want to deal with a tantrum this late.
But the longer Tommy stayed up the closer they were getting to a full blown meltdown. And that was not fun.
He relented, “Okay, you go upstairs and get settled. I’m going to find Grian.” Mumbo knew that if Grian truly wasn’t around, he could just stay the night with the kid until Grian showed up. Wherever he was…
Tommy didn’t need to be told again, before he was stumbling up the stairs. One hand on the wall to steady himself as he climbed. He listened to Mumbo call out for the avian in the kitchen downstairs, but he tried to ignore it.
Mumbo was being too loud. Didn’t he know how late it was! They should be asleep now! It’s bedtime!
Tommy huffed, once he reached the top of the stairwell. He headed for Grian’s door, the only door he knew on the second floor. He wasn’t sure where the others went, but there were some big boxes outside one of them.
Too tired to pay attention to all of his senses, he stretched to reach the doorknob. He was a bit too short to fully grasp it, but he managed to push the door open.
As the door opened, Tommy could hear giggling and laughing fall hushed. He was staring at his feet having stumbled a bit once the grasp of the handle fell out of reach. He rubbed one of his eyes again, blinking before looking up into Grian’s bedroom.
What he saw confused him.
There were two people in Grian’s bedroom-and neither one of them were Grian. In fact, there were two people in Grian’s nest .
Tommy stared at the two people in the nest, confusion and fear growing in his stomach. He didn’t recognize either of these people. He’d not seen them around Boatem, so why were they in his home?
There was an avian in the middle of the nest, a pair of wide dark eyes staring at Tommy. The wings on their back were lifted up in surprise, but were softening against their back once they realized who had opened the door. However, oddly, the avian was wearing a dress that was covered in frilly fabrics and red mushrooms. On their head was the largest mushroom Tommy had ever seen, with bright white spots over red colorations.
The other froze from their staring contest with the other, confused as to what had the mushroom person’s attention. Tommy squeaked, shrinking in on himself once he realized the mushroom person was staring at him. His noise caught the other’s attention, and the man was staring with just as much fear in his face as the other.
This person was a lot more colorful than the mushroom person. They had yellow striped pants with a purple jacket that looked like Mumbo’s if not a bit more fancy. The guy ran a hand through his hair, biting the inside of his cheek once he saw the blond.
Tommy wasted no more time. The confusion and tiredness of the night wearing off within seconds. Instead the only thing that was left was the knowledge of two strangers in his home-in his nest ! He didn’t even know where Grian was to tell him there were people invading their home! Their safety!
While Tommy didn’t exactly know many words, he knew how to make loud noises. And he knew loud noises got attention.
He screamed. He screamed as loud as his tiny lungs could, before running out of the doorway and back to the stairwell. He didn’t even try to make any full words in his scream, he just made the loudest noises he could to find Mumbo faster. Mumbo was still around right? He hadn’t left just yet! He only went to find Grian, right? Right?
“Tommy!” Tommy heard the mushroom person shout after him. How did they know his name?
Tommy stumbled down the stairs, even with the new energy that pumped through his body he was still clumsy enough to trip over his feet. He caught himself barely with the two weak wings on his back. Feathers puffed up behind him, a few being left behind on the stairs as he shook his wings desperately to get himself higher.
One word Tommy knew fairly well was the one he screamed next, “No! No!” He repeated over and over again, louder and longer each time. As he reached the very bottom of the stairs, his fingers shook as he tried to hide behind the railing of the stairs. He grasped the fence posts of the railing in his hands, squatting down behind them as best he could.
“Tommy!” Someone called from behind him, there was a waver in their voice, filled with worry. The blond jumped in his skin, screaming once more. He spun around, tears already growing in his eyes before he recognized the black suit and red tie of the redstoner.
Tommy jumped forward into Mumbo, grabbing his pant legs and hiding behind him. “Tommy? What’s wrong? What happened?” Mumbo asked, quickly. He’d heard the younger screaming from where he’d been looking for Grian. He had panicked, abandoning the search for the older avian to find the smaller.
Mumbo knelt down, turning around to try and look over the younger in case he was hurt. Tommy didn’t like the idea of Mumbo focusing on him and not the two strangers upstairs. The younger pointed to the stairs, babbling about something Mumbo couldn’t understand between sobs and shakes.
“Tommy, calm down, are you hurt?” Mumbo asked firmly, trying to get the younger to understand the importance of the question. Tommy didn’t answer, jumping on his feet a little before hitting Mumbo in the chest to get him to listen to him. He needed Mumbo to know that there were people in the house! Why wasn’t he listening!
“Up!” Tommy shouted, grabbing onto Mumbo’s tie and pulling hard. Mumbo nearly fell over from the sudden change in his weight distribution as Tommy pulled on his tie. The avian using his other hand to point up. “Up! Bad!”
“Okay, okay.” Mumbo said, taking away his tie from the younger, before picking him up in his arms. Tommy squirmed, trying to crawl onto the suited man’s back to get away from the staircase. As Tommy tried to crawl out of Mumbo’s hold, hitting the man in the shoulder whenever he had a harder time getting loose, Mumbo struggled to stay upright. “Tommy! Please, stay still.”
“No!” Tommy shouted into Mumbo’s ear. The kid was crying harder now, Mumbo couldn’t understand if it was because of whatever he’d seen upstairs or just exhaustion. Tommy sniffled, burying his head into Mumbo’s shoulder when he couldn’t get any farther away with Mumbo’s hold on him. “No!”
“Shh,” Mumbo shushed, “You’re okay.” he reminded, shifting his hold on the kid now that he wasn’t trying to escape. As Mumbo focused on trying to calm down the meltdown, two sets of footsteps started bounding down the stairs.
The redstoner looked up from the five year old he was comforting to see his friend…rather dressed up.
Mumbo blinked, looking the two over once again, “What are you wearing?” Mumbo gaped, with a smirk as Grian panicked at the sight.
“Oh my-, is he okay?” Grian asked, quickly. He swiftly moved off the bottom step of the stairs to reach Mumbo. “When did you get here? I thought you were bringing him back at sundown?”
Mumbo sighed, “It is sundown-little passed it now, actually.” Mumbo hummed, before looking back to Scar who had a bright red tint to his face that hadn’t been there before. Mumbo looked between the two again, “What were you two doing…”
This time Grian’s face flushed of color, “Nothing!”
Mumbo nodded, “Uh huh.” He bounced the younger avian in his arms, calling Grian attention back to the crying boy.
“Just-void-what happened?” Grian whispered, hands floating above the shaking wings of the parakeet hybrid.
“Is he hurt?” Scar asked, finally taking the last steps off the stairs. He walked closer to Grian standing at his side.
“Not from what I can see.” Mumbo said, pulling back from the younger’s grip to see his face for injuries. “We were walking over, you didn’t answer the door so we came in. I was searching round here for you, G, he was too tired to wait. I told him to go upstairs and get in bed. What happened up there?”
“Nothing.” Scar said, “He just walked in on-”
“‘Walked in on’ what?” Mumbo asked, eyebrow raised. Neither hermit said anything and Grian swallowed before turning back to the younger. The parrot hybrid frowned.
“Here, hand him to me.” He sighed, opening his arms for the younger, unable to bear watching the boy cry anymore. Mumbo agreed, happy to give the kid over to someone who would better understand how to comfort him. Grian had been the best option for meltdowns and tantrums so far, being an avian himself and having the best relationship with the younger he understood what was wrong better than the others.
Mumbo let the avian take over, and once Grian had a hold on the younger he let himself take a breath of relief. Grian would be able to handle this.
Grian hummed something as they traded off, resting a hand in the boy’s hair. Once the boy was settled in his arms, Tommy looked up having noticed the change in person holding him. For a moment, the tears stopped as he looked up at the mushroom person. And for a moment, Grian believed the kid was calming down. That thought was struck down when Tommy screamed once again.
He screamed, eyes wide and tearful. He bit down on Grian’s hand that had come up to wipe his face off. He used his other to try and hit the man’s shoulder and chest in a way to get away.
Grian yelped, once Tommy bit down on his hand pulling it back. Without both hands to hold the kid up, his grip slipped and Tommy was able to squirm out of his hold completely. The boy raised his wings, puffing them up to make them look threatening and flapping them desperately to slow the fall to the ground.
Grian himself almost shouted when he noticed Tommy falling to the ground, he let out a sigh of relief when the boy slowed his descent just enough to not get hurt.
“What happened?” Scar asked, having tried to catch the kid when he started to fall but failed.
“He bit me.” Grian huffed. Tommy’s wings were still fluttering around as he ran behind Mumbo once again. Mumbo tried to move away from the kid to keep an eye on where he went, but each time he moved Tommy seemed to follow him if only for a barricade between himself and Grian and Scar.
“Why did he bite you?” Scar chuckled.
“And why did he scream when he saw you?” Mumbo muttered, more serious as he watched Tommy stare at both Scar and Grian in front of him. Tommy whined, pulling on Mumbo’s pant leg hoping the man would notice him. Mumbo sighed, picking him back up so he was resting back on his hip.
“Bad!” Tommy shouted, pointing at Grian who looked mildly offended at the comment. Scar only laughed, before Tommy pointed to him as well, “No!”
Scar frowned, shoulder’s slouching at the younger’s disapproval.
Mumbo took the chance to wipe the boy’s face off. It had slowly been covered in snot and tears, and his cheeks were getting a bright red.
“Why does he suddenly not like us?” Scar asked, pouting.
Grian sighed, running his hands up and down his arms as he tried to offer himself a hug. The avian’s eyes searched, anxiously over the younger in case he missed something. Mumbo looked over both of the other hermits before something caught his eyes. “You two were wearing that upstairs right?”
Grian paused, confused. Scar nodded, “Yeah, why?”
Mumbo chuckled, he pointed to Grian and looked down to Tommy, “Who’s that?”
Tommy looked between the mushroom man and Mumbo. He didn’t know how to answer his question, so he just took the chance to blow a raspberry at the stranger. Grian flinched as Mumbo laughed.
Scar stared between the two watching interaction in complete confusion.
“What? That’s not funny, Mumbo!” Grian squawked.
Mumbo smirked, “Come here. Come here.” He beckoned, and Grian took a step forward to his friend. When he was close enough that Mumbo could reach him, but not close enough to freak out Tommy, Mumbo took hold of the man’s large hat. Mumbo lifted the hat off of his head, revealing the sandy blond hair Tommy was used to.
Tommy blinked looking at the blond hair and black eyes. His brain didn’t comprehend the rest of the stranger's body, only the face, hair and eyes and he knew who it was. In an instant, the younger was reaching towards the older avian with two hands.
Grian blinked, confused, a hand drifting closer to the boy’s face. The younger allowed him to run a hand right through his hair, before Mumbo dropped the hat back onto his head. Once the mushroom cap had covered his hair once again, Tommy flinched burying himself back into Mumbo.
“What?” Grian gasped, before looking at Mumbo confused.
Mumbo just smirked, “He doesn’t recognize you.”
“What do you mean? How can he not recognize us? We don’t look that different, do we?” Scar asked, taking a step forward.
“I mean to me and the rest of the hermits, no.” Mumbo shrugged, then he nodded to the boy in his arms, “But to a five year old, who has barely had any time to develop mentally you’re a completely different person. He was stuck in that cave for who knows how long! He wasn’t going to develop needed skills, like recognition, that a normal kid would’ve.”
“Like how babies think you disappear if you’re not in their direct line of vision.” Grian sighed, rubbing his temples. How had he not realized that? The avian threw the hat off once again, tossing it somewhere to be picked up later. He ruffled up his hair, before a thought occurred to him, “Void-He saw us in the nest, Scar. That’s an avian’s safe place! He probably thought someone was endangering him and his safety!”
Scar blinked, eyes widened with worry, “Oh.”
Grian shook his head, annoyed with himself more than anyone else, “Scar go change, now! Before we give that kid any more panic attacks.” Grian muttered, already heading off to his own room to change out of the dress.
Scar and Mumbo watched as the avian made his way back upstairs, muttering nonsense to himself all the while. Mumbo shifted his hold on Tommy, bouncing him lightly to try and offer some comfort for the sniffles he still heard.
Mumbo looked back to the brunet, “Do I even want to ask what you two were doing?”
Scar sent a glance towards Mumbo before looking away, as his face heated up. Mumbo sighed, shaking his head, “Nope! Nope! Pretend I didn’t ask!”