Shadowed Exodus

by 0Asterous0, JinxReads

Summary:

In a world of hybrids and danger, a group of nine runs for their lives from an organization with the time and the means to kill them all.
When some wish to return home, while the others are in search of one, they have to find a middle ground and work through their trauma and differences to learn how to work together.

AKA: Nine block people on the run from the government, what they gonna do?

Notes:

Hi! Authors here, just so you know, Dead Dove warning is here for a reason, some stuff will get dark; especially the dehumanization, experimentation, and mental health issues! If any of this makes you uncomfortable, please click away. We will include every trigger warning in the beginning notes of every chapter!

Chapter 1: How much longer 'till your luck runs out?

Notes:

Chapter CW/TW: Minor character death, brief mention of a dead body, murder, casual treatment of murder.

Chapter title is from "Luck Runs Out" from EPIC: The Musical.

Run.

It’s becoming harder to breathe with every fast-paced step, as Grian avoids all the trees and painfully low branches. There’s shuffling right beside him, more people running and disappearing from view, only to reappear again a few meters ahead from behind the trees. 

“Come on! Can’t even catch up with us now?!” Joel yells from the front, sending a quick glance to behind Grian, taunting their pursuer. 

Run.

Grian scoffs breathlessly, glaring at the Red Panda ahead before turning his head back, also catching the sight of the assassin in black. They are getting dangerously close to Apo and Scar, making Grian huff and turn to the Siren running nearby.

“Martyn!” He yells to get the man’s attention, and the Siren grins back at him before he slings his backpack in front of himself, searching for something and, for a second, disappearing from view. Grian doesn’t dwell on that, he knows he’s gonna see him again in just a bit. 

Run.

He skids to a halt as soon as he hears scraping under his feet, Martyn sliding the rope at him to avoid it being seen. Grian wraps the rope around his hand a few times, making sure it's secured, and waits. The second the others pass by, Martyn and Grian look at each other and tug.  

The– frankly amateur– assassin chasing them is flung to the ground in a painful-looking heap. The briefly blurred form of Owen is immediately on top of them, holding them down by their mid-back and nape with their legs pinned by his knees. They’re not going anywhere. 

“He’s mine!” Joel yells from the front, but before he turns around and runs back, another figure jumps from behind Owen, smirking at the Panda. With a swift slice, Acho slits the assassin’s throat, leaving them squirming and choking under Owen’s weight. “Oh come on! I called dibs!”

Acho shrugs. “Next time try keeping closer with the others, instead of trying to show off and running ahead,” they comment, making Joel growl while the others snicker quietly, immediately getting Joel’s glare in response. 

“You are way too enthusiastic with this,” Owen huffs, finally standing up as soon as the struggling under her stops. She kicks the body slightly, looking at the face to make sure that it’s done, and yep, they’re dead.

“Gah, can we sit down for a bit and relax now?” Scar whines, Jellie meowing in agreement from his bag. 

“Agreed,” Apo murmurs, sitting down on the root of the nearest tree. “Don’t know about you, but my back is starting to hurt, I’d love to sit or lay down for a bit…”

“Yeah, I don’t think an hour break will–” Owen starts, sending a glance between the two, before he gets interrupted by Grian shaking his head.

“No, there’s always a chance there’s a second one, we need to move,” he declares firmly, moving to Scar. “Do you need any help? Me or Mumbo can help carry you.” 

The Vex sighs, shaking his head and looking back at the Sunbird with a gentle smile. “No, it’s fine, I can walk a bit more, we just have to get away from here, right?”

Grian nods with a similar smile, before he turns back to the others. “Okay, we move, we can take a break in an hour or so.” And with that, he turns around and continues walking, Scar right by his side. 

The others groan quietly, but otherwise don’t complain and follow the two. Owen tenses, biting down on her lip, looking back at Apo on the root looking pained, while his eyes follow the others.

“Hey..” Acho whispers, moving closer to Apo. “Let me carry you, come on,” star says, crouching down in front of the Demon. 

Apo immediately shakes his head, slowly standing up. “I can walk on my own, don’t worry,” he says, taking a few steps toward the others, before Owen catches his hand. 

“Apo,” the Sparrow starts with a frown on her face. “Don’t force yourself, you said your back hurts, don’t–”

“I’m okay,” the Demon says again, looking back toward Scar, smiling and whispering about something with Grian and Mumbo ahead of the group. “I can–”

“Apo,” Owen interrupts him again, the frown on her face even deeper. “Please.

Apo tenses, staring at the Sparrow, before he sighs, “Okay.. Acho?” He calls out with a heavy sigh.

Acho smiles softly, crouching again and allowing the Demon to climb onto stars back. “Come on, let’s catch up with the others,” the Fae says enthusiastically, running ahead, making Apo giggle and grip onto star harder, trying not to fall off. Owen smiles at the duo, before he sighs bitterly and follows them. 

“How did you manage to get your feathers so twisted, Jimmy?” Joel asks with a groan, looking over his brother-in-law’s wings while walking behind him.

The Canary winces, immediately taking a look at his own wings with a frown. “No idea.. I stumbled once, and I was flying earlier, so I guess it’s time for preening.”

“I can help with that once we are settled further away from here,” Grian tells him from up ahead, sending back a quick nod. “I wouldn’t mind a preening session either.”

Mumbo looks away from the duo, Jimmy saying something in return, but the rest of the conversation is muffled in his ears as he turns back to Scar. “How are your braces? I need to look at them later,” the Vampire says, looking down at the shimmering silver on Scar’s legs while the Vex sighs, also looking down.

“It was getting jammed when I was running, so I guess it would be better to fix that, but otherwise I’m okay, doesn’t hurt or anything,” he explains, lifting up one foot and swirling it around in a playful manner. Jellie meows in his bag again followed by a hiss, a clear demand to be left free. Scar giggles, opening the bag and allowing the cat to jump out and stretch. 

“I’m stealing her!” Martyn exclaims, suddenly jumping in front of Scar and scooping Jellie up, running away while the Vex gasps in betrayal. 

“You thief!” He yells, pointing at the retreating figure of the Siren, who responds with the dramatically manic laugh of a villain. 

Mumbo sighs softly, shaking their head and looking at Martyn’s back with a gentle look. “He’s a thief, alright,” they comment without missing a beat. The Siren sure was able to steal someone’s heart on a whim. Well.. or a cat.

“ Cough- simp– ” Scar fake-chokes under his breath.

The Vampire snorts, hitting their friend’s shoulder. “Yeah, let me be a simp in peace.”

They walk for another hour before Grian finally declares that it’s safe for them to settle down, the group immediately collapsing on the ground and grabbing their things from the backpacks. 

“Oh my god,” Joel mutters, turning the empty bottle upside down. “Who has water? Someone spare some water.” There’s a quick shuffling from around the Panda, and Joel immediately tenses up, hiding himself under his backpack, the multiple bottles of water flying toward him while the group dissolves into laughter. “ STOP DOING THIS! EVERY! SINGLE! TIME!”

Grian flops down after setting down his mat and snickers, turning back to Jimmy. “Tim, you up for a preen?” He asks, the Canary lighting up with a grin. 

“Lemme just-!” Jimmy takes out his own mat, putting it right next to the Sunbird’s and sitting down by his side. “I’m first, I’m first!” He giggles, turning his back to Grian. His eyes catch the Maze trio setting up far away from them, and he frowns, but doesn’t comment otherwise. Those three tended to need their own space.

Grian shuffles behind him, and soon enough, the Sunbird starts tending to his wings, whispering and giggling with Mumbo by his side. 

“What are we giggling about?” Martyn asks, putting down his own mat next to Mumbo’s and connecting them, before he quickly sits down. Jellie is perched on his shoulders, apparently content to sit there after being snatched.

“Give Scar his child back, Martyn,” Mumbo says with a chuckle, patting the cat’s head. 

“Nuh uh,” the Siren responds, shaking his head. “She’s mine now. She agrees too!” He declares proudly, and like the little daddy’s girl she is, Jellie immediately jumps down, running back to Scar and leaving Martyn with his jaw dropped, while the other three around him laugh at him. “The betrayal.. The ultimate betrayal, I can’t believe her!”

Scar welcomes Jellie back with open arms, and sticks out his tongue toward Martyn. “My baby,” he whispers into Jellie’s head, planting a big smooch in her fur, before he moves closer to the group. “Joel? Can you please–”

“Yeah, yeah,” Joel mutters, standing up and taking out the mat from Scar’s backpack, setting it down with them.

“Thank you,” the Vex says with a grin, dropping the backpack on the ground and immediately laying down. “Gods, I really needed this,” he sighs, staring at the sky, while his cat settles down on his chest. Joel smiles down at him, taking a small pillow out of the bag and placing it under Scar’s head to make it more comfortable for him.

“Take a break, we ran a lot today,” the Panda hums, sitting back on his own mat. He instinctively brings a hand to his chest, feeling for the wedding ring on his thin leather necklace to fidget with it through the fabric of his shirt.

Grian sighs next to them. “Sorry..”

Scar shakes his head, humming. “It’s okay, we needed to get away, I understand.”

“This is like.. the third time this month,” Martyn suddenly says with a snarl. “I mean, you’d think they’d get the point, but nooo.”

“They’re arrogant, Martyn,” Joel answers with a snort. “They think they will get us one day, and well, let them try, hasn’t worked even once so far. I mean, this one couldn’t even walk up to us!”

Scar grimaces, knowing that the assassin was very close to him and Apo, that they didn’t do well today, but doesn’t say anything. Grian on the other hand, grimaces for another reason. “It doesn’t matter. Some are good, some are worse, we don’t really know which one will be better than the previous, so don’t get arrogant yourself,” he says, frowning back at Joel.

Joel whistles, turning away, while Martyn snorts, dropping his head down on Mumbo’s lap, who jumps in response, caught off guard but immediately giggling in response, making Grian groan. “I hate all of you.”

“Okay, fuck, does it hurt too much?” Acho mutters, looking down at Apo, who moves around to find a more comfortable position on the mat.

“It’s– not that bad,” the Demon answers with a weak chuckle, making both of his companions groan. 

“You should have said something..” Owen whispers, looking pained. “I– I noticed you were running slower, but you should have said if you were hurting so much..”

“I wasn’t hurting that much, you know this,” Apo argues back, frowning.

“Well, you know your limits, and you know when it’s ticklish is about to become oh yeah it hurts really bad and is starting to go numb. You knew you were at your limits and pain would get worse any minute, but you still didn’t say anything!” Owen scolds firmly, while Acho sighs by her side.

“We were a bit busy running,” Apo murmurs bitterly, turning away. “It didn’t change much when I said something about the pain after we stopped running, what would it do if I did it while that guy was still chasing us?” 

Both Acho and Owen immediately look at each other, then send a quick glance toward the others. They can see the six sitting together and chatting about something while laughing. Scar on the ground talking with Mumbo and Martyn while petting his cat, Grian tending to Jimmy’s wings while Joel is explaining something with his hands flying around. The Fae huffs, dropping down on stars own mat by Apo’s side, while the Sparrow continues staring.

“Owen,” Acho calls out, catching his attention. As soon as the Sparrow turns around, he’s met with the Fae’s frown. “Just.. it’s not worth it.”

Owen sighs heavily, sending a last quick glance toward the others, before he drops on Apo’s other side. “Yeah…”

“Owen?” The Demon calls out weakly. “Can you.. get the..?”

“Ah, yes, of course, sorry,” Owen responds, quickly reaching for his backpack. He shuffles inside, but frowns, not finding what he wanted. “Ah.. it’s probably in Scar’s, I can–”  He goes to stand up, but Apo grabs his hand, tugging him down. 

“Leave it.”

“Apo, I can get the medicine if you–”

“Leave it!” The Demon hisses, forcing Owen back on the mat. “Just.. just leave it,” they whisper, moving closer and hugging the Sparrow, trapping him on the ground. 

“Okay…” Owen sighs sadly. 

Acho also shifts closer, hugging the Demon from behind, and for a second, nobody speaks, only the laughter from the others reaching them. “I miss them..” Acho whispers. 

Apo’s grip on Owen tightens as they sigh heavily, hiding their face in the Sparrow’s chest, while Owen blinks repeatedly, trying to keep the tears away. “Yeah… me too.”

---

Footsteps fall on the tiled floor in an echoing rhythm, the cold basement of STARR labs offering no combatants to the noise. As two individuals pass the cells around them, some of the test subjects move closer to their bars, while others hide deeper, avoiding being noticed. There are growls, snarls and muffled noises of distress echoing through the labs, but they give it no attention. A professional-looking man walks down the corridor with purpose, unbothered by the nervous mess following him, a redhead woman fidgeting with the clipboard in her hands in hopes to alleviate her anxiety as she shuffles behind him. 

“Sir, are you… certain of this?” She mutters, far too afraid to raise her voice any further. She cringes away from the cages they pass, a mix of pity and fear swirling in her gut. “This one is volatile on a good day, it’s dangerous-”

“It also has a one hundred percent success rate, Doctor,” the man cuts her off carelessly. “It is perfect for the job. Your other dogs have failed me. This one will not.”

“I-it isn’t ready, sir..!” The Doctor insists, the red feathers on her face shivering, the wings uncomfortably bound behind her back under her long white coat twitching with the same anxiety. “It’s been more.. hostile, w-wild lately, if we let it free-”

“I don’t care,” the man interrupts again. “I’ve kept an article of clothing from the group’s Captain that will help it track them. That is all it needs to do. Find them. Kill them. I don’t care if it will go wild, as far as I’m aware, it will finish its mission no matter what. If it will be messier and bloodier than needed, so be it.”

“Yes.. of course,” the woman exhales, looking down at her feet. 

“You’ve been recently promoted, am I right?” The man asks, raising an eyebrow at the doctor, who immediately shrinks into herself.

“Y-yes, sir..”

“Then act like it,” he says firmly, the woman wincing and turning pink from embarrassment, as they move closer to the end of the corridor.

As they approach the needed cell, stopping just shy of arm’s length from the bars, the man looks inside said cell with a smirk, his eyes locking with the uncovered glowing eye of a familiar looking figure. 

“Exor,” the Organizer’s voice nearly booms in the space, making the woman take a step back, while the figure on the other side jerks to attention upon hearing its name. “You have a new mission.”

Notes:

Some character introductions and setup! Chapters will get consistently longer, this is just an introductory chapter. Think of it as a prologue. (Ann is the one in this duo that’s capable of writing 10k word prologues, shh /silly)
Either way: it has begun :)

Chapter 2: I can feel it breaking my very soul

Notes:

Chapter CW/TW: Brief description of injury, injury, fantasy fight scene.

Chapter title is from "Domino" by Divide Music

The Outsiders meet that night under the open sky lit by the bright stars spread all around, alongside probably the biggest and brightest moon they’ve seen these past months. 

Owen, Acho, and Apo tuck into themselves at the edge of the little open field, the three huddling together under Owen’s wings for the night. They haven’t approached or talked to the others since they separated and settled down, but the others heed it no mind. It took a bit of struggle to fall asleep, considering all the strained noises Apo was making the first few hours after laying down, but with Apo finally passing out, Owen and Acho could finally relax. They spent a few hours just whispering to each other, both holding onto the Demon, who was sleeping with the biggest frown they had seen on his face, before sleep finally caught up with them too. 

Jimmy has moved his mat closer to Joel, and now both of them are far gone, the Canary’s wings dropped over them while Joel’s tail shuffles around, sometimes hitting poor Jimmy and making him groan in his sleep. Martyn has also fallen asleep, clinging onto Mumbo with a death grip, while the Vampire awkwardly looks at Scar’s braces, who giggles at the two. 

“Shut up,” Mumbo whispers, his cheeks red, while Scar shrugs, winking at the Vampire.

“He looks very comfortable, just saying,” he shares, Jellie perched on Scar’s shoulder, clearly still grumpy from the earlier chase and the kidnapping. She never liked being tossed around like that, but Scar refuses to part with her. (For good reason of course, she’s a good kitty and they all know it.)

“Feelin’ alright, fellas?” the Sunbird hybrid asks, taking up his own perch on Mumbo’s shoulder by pure instinct. The mustached man only grunts with the relatively small effort of staying upright, both of his sides now occupied. For some mysterious reason, Martyn senses it, whining in his sleep and holding onto Mumbo tighter.

“Goodness gracious,” the Vampire mumbles with a heavy sigh.

“Oh I’m feeling am-ayzin’ !” Scar grins, absently running a hand through Jellie’s fur. The cat is purring like a motor despite the glare on her face. “Queenie here’s still being a sour sally, but all is well!”

Mumbo snorts weakly, giving the metal braces they’ve been inspecting a small pat. “I’d be rather sour too if I was being violently jostled in a bag for a few hours straight, Scar.” It’s clear they’re teasing, and the other takes it in stride.

Scar gasps, dramatically scandalized. “Why, MJ, I’ll have you know I am quite careful running with Jellie! I keep her very upright and steady!” he declares, hand against his chest.

Grian watches them banter with a small smile and soft eyes, unbearably happy with the privilege of loving these two. Not once had he imagined he’d be here, fleeing from a war with a family of his own. It’d been so long since he had that. He catches a shuffle from the Maze trio, but looks away back to his friends. 

“We should go to sleep,” he suggests with a sigh, as he drops down from Mumbo’s shoulder. “We will need to get up early tomorrow, maybe we can find a village or a hut somewhere around here.”

“That would be nice, yeah,” Scar says, yawning. “Very nice..” he repeats weakly, as he allows Jellie to jump down from his shoulder into his lap, and leans back, laying down on his mat. To nobody’s surprise, as soon as his head collides with the pillow, he’s out, making Mumbo and Grian chuckle. 

“Goodnight, Scar,” Grian mutters, finding his own place down on his mat. “Goodnight, Mumbo.”

The Vampire hums, struggling for a second to move them around with Martyn in his arms, before he finally finds a comfortable position despite all the sleepy whines from the Siren. He huffs as soon as he settles down, and murmurs a quick “Goodnight” in response, allowing himself to fall asleep, under the bright night sky.

~

Owen grunts softly, rubbing harsh circles into the skin around his right eye, shuffling around on his mat. He hasn’t had a flare-up for a couple weeks now, a new record actually, but of course it came back at the most inconvenient moment. As always. Stupid flare-ups. Stupid scars. Stupid Kr-

“Your scar acting up?” Acho softly questions from behind Apo, startling the Sparrow into halting the rubbing. “You know messing with it doesn’t help, Owen.”

Owen heaves an irritated sigh. She really needs to stop thinking about these things. “Sorry.. yeah, hurts again.”

“No apologies, remember?” Acho doesn’t scold, but it’s a near thing. Star sounds slightly out of it, clearly woken up from all the moving around, which makes Owen feel guilty. “..you’re thinking about it again, aren’t you?”

“How can I not?” Owen counters. “Flare-ups mean thinking about the scar and thinking about the scar means thinking about Kro-“ They cut themself off with a chirping growl, wings wrapping tighter around the three of them, Apo letting out a strained noise in his sleep. “..about it.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Acho insists, a few clicking and whistling tics escaping star. He already knows it’s not the scar she’s upset about. He always seems to know. “It was another trial, neither of you had a choice. None of us had a choice, Owen.”

“Doesn’t make it any less dead,” she bluntly argues, far too exhausted with far too guilty of a conscience to beat around the bush. “Doesn’t make any of them any less dead.”

There’s a silence that makes him question himself for a moment, if he went too far, before the Fae is speaking again. “Maybe not, but… our survival means they live too, in a way. If we remember them, they aren’t… dead, just… gone. They’re resting now, aren’t they?”

The two of them are silent again, aside from Acho’s soft whistles and jerks of their head, and Apo’s quiet snoring. “They are,” the Fae repeats, more firmly. “They rest while we remember.” From anyone else, the statement would seem bitter. Owen knows they’re thinking of Kyle, though, and that star’s happy, in their own way, that their friend can rest. 

Owen had thought about it a few times. How their friends weren’t dead just gone, but that wasn’t true, was it? They were dead; but she wanted to believe that their friends were in a better place so much that she assured herself it wasn’t the truth. They were dead and resting; but sometimes Owen couldn’t help but wonder if they were interrupting their friends' peace every time they thought about them, especially bringing back the worst memories possible. A morbid thought. He needed to be happy, happy for his dead friends, and happy for himself. 

It would have been easier to share Acho’s happiness if Owen hadn’t delivered the death that they think of now. If they hadn’t been the one to amputate and murder the young Dragon in that Maze. If he hadn’t been forced into a battle to the death by the trials laid out by the Organizer. If he hadn’t killed someone he considered a friend. If she didn’t have a permanent reminder etched onto her face and trapped in her mind. If, if, if…

“I think about Kyle, sometimes,” Acho softly admits. Owen winces, abruptly wishing he remembered.. Anything physical about Kyle. The kindest human any of them had ever met. He really, really wishes he could visualize his face in his mind’s eye. He has no mind’s eye.

There are so many faces she can’t remember properly. So many names that never leave their head. So many deaths they carry on their shoulders. So, so many people whose bodies remain in the Maze and whose spirits may never find rest. He can only hope each of them are where they’re meant to be, that they’re happy now. He hopes they are free.

He swears he will never forget them. Even if he can’t see their faces anymore, he will remember their names, their hopes, their dreams. He won’t allow himself to forget. Ever.

“Go to sleep, Owen,” Acho whispers softly, laying his head on the mat against the Demon’s back. “We deserve a good night's rest after today.”

The Sparrow hums in response, turning his head back to the sky and closing his eyes, trying to find some peace in his sleep. It takes time, with his eye flaring up, and little shuffles from the other group. He looks up for a second, noticing Martyn up again; but with a hum he lays back again and, after a bit, finally falls asleep.

~

Martyn’s tail twitches in unrest. He is meant to be asleep. Joel snores up a storm on the other side of a drooling Jimmy, Scar is tucked underneath Grian’s wings, and he can hear Jellie purring nearly as loud as Joel snores. Even the cat is asleep. Martyn, who before this was out like light in Mumbo’s comfortable arms, is not asleep. He spots Owen and Acho beside a snoozing Apo, protected under the Sparrow’s wing in a very similar fashion to Grian’s, stretched to its fullest to keep them all covered. Martyn, though blanketed by Mumbo’s arms, is not asleep.

“We don't really know which one will be better than the previous, so don’t get arrogant yourself.”

Despite his earlier bravado, the conversation with the others, and especially Grian’s words, eats at him relentlessly. The avian brought up a good point, after all. Obviously, Martyn was ever so confident that their group of nine could handle whatever STARR threw at them, but… it was a good point nonetheless. 

Some of the spies those labs had sent were, admittedly, pretty good. If the Outsiders were a normal group of fugitives, they may have been killed by now. Their only saving grace is that they’ve survived STARR’s tortures for a reason.

A Demon, Fae, and Sparrow, the only survivors of the infamous Maze Trials. Forced to kill and hunt in order to survive, to escape. A Sunbird, Canary, and Siren, escapees of island purges, cults, kidnapping– far too much to be terribly bothered by running again. A Red Panda hybrid, joining up with the same task force they’d been shoved into for the sole purpose of getting his brother-in-law back home alive, because said hybrid is far too devoted to his wife for common sense to fit in his brain. A Vampire, master of Redstone machinery, shoved into that task force late against his will but proving himself just as vicious when the situation called for it. A Vex, nothing more than a number in an experiment to one of the happiest people Martyn had ever met, his beloved cat in tow. Nine fugitive hybrids. Nine soldiers. Nine survivors. 

And yet…

STARR labs had been the thing to torture them in the first place. The Organizer was, Martyn could begrudgingly admit, a capable man. A dangerous man. The assassins he’d sent so far were weak and amateurish, but… what if?

What if he did have something up his sleeve? Someone? What if STARR had something in their arsenal that could do them real harm? Basically everyone in the army had heard of the labs’ “dogs,” inescapable assassins and spies trained practically from birth to hunt. The Outsiders had outrun and killed all of the assassins chasing them so far. But what if those weren’t the best? What if they were only being underestimated? Thinking about it scared him. They were so close to freedom, and yet they spent days upon days running away; the idea that one day they would get an opponent that would not let them escape terrified him. He just had to hope that his fear was unfounded, and they would continue to run away without harm. They just needed to hope. But what if?

What if, now that they’d killed over a dozen of STARR’s assassins, they were no longer being underestimated?

He knows it’s not exactly healthy, but he’s now being hit by a sudden episode of anxiety. Thank you so much, Grian. Martyn shuffles out from under Mumbo’s arms, and slowly stands up, trying to be as quiet as possible. Finding his sword near his bag, he straightens up and looks around the group. His friends asleep and the Maze trio also quiet, he turns around and heads into the forest to walk around and keep watch. He will probably regret it the next morning, but he knows that he won’t be able to sleep tonight, so for now.. He can just make sure that his family is safe.

---

It’s just under a week later, in the dead of night, that Martyn is proven horribly correct.

They weren’t anywhere near any towns by the time the moon was peaking over the horizon, so they’d resolved to set up some on the ground, some in trees for the night, the thick spruce branches providing enough stability for them to get semi-comfortable under their usual blankets of feathers. 

It’s the sound of snapping branches that has them all shooting awake.

And it’s the sound of growling that has them alert.

Grian’s eyes snap open, vision adjusting for all of five seconds before he registers the face hovering above him, pitch black goggles of sorts covering their eyes and a hood obscuring their head. The figure has twisting, sharpened horns atop their head that stick out of said hood, and there are growls coming from their throat.

There are claws around his neck, then, and all he can do is shriek and give the figure a fierce kick with his talons. This launches them into a nearby branch, hissing so angrily they sound feral.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Mumbo's scream is heard in the background under the trees. Grian’s shriek wakes everyone up, causing them to jump, followed by different types of reactions: from shock– (“How did they find us so soon?”)– to anger– (“Seriously? Barely even a full week!”)

Everyone is up and jumping down branches now, and Grian can only follow. The Demon (he can think of nothing else they could possibly be) follows way too closely for comfort. Grian swears he can feel their breath on his neck, and he must be right because Owen is launching herself at them as soon as they’re on solid ground, and Grian hears a grunt mixed with an almost layered snarl.

He whips around just in time to see Owen being shoved off the Demon and into the thick trunk of the nearest tree, and there’s a sickening crack followed by a birdlike shriek of her own. The Demon is up and running at Grian almost immediately, locked onto their prey. Grian is caught in a dance of claws, distracting them enough for Apo to swoop in and get Owen back on their feet. Acho is there too, and the three flee. Martyn is suddenly beside him, but the Demon doesn’t back down. 

They fight violently, claws and teeth and all the dirty tactics in the book getting thrown into the mix. With a swift motion, Martyn tries to slash the demon with his sword, metal shining under the moonlight; but before he lands a hit, the Demon manages to slap it out of his hand.

“Hey!!” Martyn exclaims, running back towards the sword– but the Demon is faster, sprinting past him at an uncanny speed and grabbing the weapon. Martyn and Grian take a quick step back, preparing to avoid the incoming attack– but instead of attacking them, the demon plunges the sword into the ground, and breaks the blade in half with a heavy kick on the side.

“What the hell?! That was mine, you Fucker!” Martyn yells, his ear fins vibrating slightly in annoyance, and he immediately jumps back into the fight with a flurry of vicious claws.

The two of them try desperately to somehow overpower the assassin, but they’re losing time, with the others getting farther and farther. They need to kill this guy now or run as quickly as possible.

“From the sides!” Grian shouts, before they jump in opposite directions to overwhelm the Demon, dealing punches left and right.

  The two finally manage to get a few hits on it, and after a swift hit to the Demon’s head that sends it turning to the side with a painful crack, Grian thinks that they are finally leading– but as soon as its body takes a few steps back, its head seems to snap back into place, staring back at them with their black goggles like a devouring Void, looking deep into Grian’s Soul.

“What..” The Sunbird whispers horrified, staring back at the assassin, his whole body trembling. “What.. is this..” 

The Demon takes this as an opportunity and darts toward him, making Grian jump away to avoid its claws. Just the speed of this thing is terrifying and Grian can’t breathe, because he can’t turn around. He wants to turn around and run, but it's so fast, he knows the second he turns around, it will be over. Is this it? Is he gonna die? Just like this?

He sees a claw speeding toward his face and he chokes, not ready for the attack, when there’s a sudden woosh and a broken blade hitting the Demon's hand, half of it sticking out of the other side, black blood dripping from the wound. The Demon stares down at its injury with a curious tilt of its head. It doesn’t look pained or angry, just surprised that they got a hit. This is not helping with Grian’s anxiety and fear.

Suddenly Martyn is by his side, grabbing his hand and darting toward the direction others disappeared, tugging the Sunbird behind him. The whole time Grian is looking back at the Demon, as it finally jerks the blade out of its palm and drops the bloodied half-sword to the ground, looking back at the running Martyn and Grian but not moving from its place. It’s not chasing them anymore, but that look makes everything inside him tremble, as they finally disappear behind the trees.

Notes:

I've decided an upload schedule! I'll be trying to upload on Saturdays, but this may vary depending on how college life fluctuates.
See you next week!

Chapter 3: And it terrifies me more than I intend to admit

Notes:

I did not, in fact, see you the next week... boy it's been a while! A really long while! I am SO sorry! College ended up being suuuuper rough on my mental health, plus some life happenings I won't get into here. Regardless, I am back with my longest chapter to date! Those of you that have stuck around this long- thank you, and I hope you enjoy. :P

Chapter CW/TW: fantasy fight scene, injury, description of injury, attempted murder.

Chapter title is from "Fruiting Bodies" by R.I.P. / RIProducer

!!Hover mouse over glitchy text for a boxed translation! (Mobile/Tablet users should see End Notes)

“...So,” Jimmy starts tentatively, “Another one, huh?” There’s a collective groan of exasperated agreement among them.

They’d spent the whole night running for their lives, trying to run away from the Dog as far away as possible. Despite it not following them after its wound acquisition, the nine of them were under no impression that this was over. It will chase after them again, it will find them, and next time the wounds won’t stop it, they know it; but they paused to breathe and debrief anyway. Were they truly the Outsiders if they weren’t tempting fate?

“How the bloody hell did they find us so quickly?” Joel snarls, grumpier than usual with his lack of sleep. “We barely had a full week to ourselves after offing the last one!”

“Maybe they sent multiple this time..?” Apo softly questions, head resting heavily on Owen’s shoulder, who’d dropped to the ground the second they finally stopped to breathe. “This one might’ve just taken longer to find us, so they were a bit behind the other guy…”

“They’ve never done that before, though!” Martyn insists, tail writhing behind him in agitation. He was still pissed about his sword, he made that one himself! But hey, the Demon was still after them, so he had an opportunity to take his revenge later, and he did get a hit after throwing his broken sword at it. Hah, point to him.

“..Do you guys think this one might’ve just… managed to track us that quickly..?” Jimmy suggests. “They’re clearly better at the chase, maybe they…”

“Gods, if so that’s terrifying,” Mumbo shudders. “Someone that can track us across the country in less than a week? That has… horrifying implications, doesn’t it?”

A grim silence falls over the nine. It’s true, the implications of such a truth were baffling; the Demon was clearly a “Dog” sent by STARR, no doubt about that, but they were scarily good at the hunt. The group had never had to run for so long, never had to flee so quickly. They’d never quite been hunted like that.

“We’re all in agreement that they’re an actual assassin this time, yeah? Not another one of those amateurs?” Grian speaks up. He had no question in his mind about that part: he’s certain this pursuer is one of STARR’s Dogs. His questions receive nods and grunts of approval. “Good. We’re on the same page there, at least.”

“What’s the plan, then?” Owen questions, wings wrapped protectively around Apo and Acho. There was sweat running down his face and he seemed to be biting down on the inside of his cheek, seemingly straining and out of breath after the run. “Surely we can’t go our usual silly trap route this time, they’re absolutely too smart for it. The ol’ clothesline won’t fool this guy.” Seems the Sparrow is also too peeved about the situation to care for masking her bluntness. Wonderful. Though considering how quickly and painfully she went down when the fight started, he could understand why.

Grian heaves a sigh. “I’m not sure yet. This guy’s fast and clearly vicious, they won’t stop to entertain our smaller traps so you’re absolutely right, there…” he hums, ear wings gently flapping as he thinks of a strategy.

“Then maybe we use the better ones!” Scar declares, grinning despite the situation and his own exhaustion. “We can have fun with it this time, use the big guns!”

“Have fun with it? Really?” Owen deadpans, almost immediately wincing at their own tone. “Sorry, just– what do you mean fun? What’s fun about getting chased like this?”

“Why, the traps!” Scar takes the questioning in stride with a sharp grin, always so optimistic. “We can use the traps that we never get to use on the other guys! Add a little thrill!”

Grian could admit that the smaller traps were getting.. old. They had plenty to work with between the nine of them, and he knew that the Maze trio especially had a few tricks and twists in their arsenal that the rest of them haven’t seen yet. Maybe they-

Crack!

The sound of splintering wood echoes through the forest and a branch goes flying over their heads; nearly all at once, the group’s eyes slowly tilt up to the branch that’s just snapped above them. A familiar Dog stares down at them, lowered in a squat on the thick branch; a branch that they’d managed to snap clean in half with the power of their landing. Holy mother of-

"F̶̨͍̺̤̓̋̕ō̴̲̼̍̈̐͜ų̵̤̩̅̽͠ṅ̸̦͎͇͠d̸͚͛ ̷̗́y̵̱̳̹̖̗̓͋̈́̐o̷͖͝ů̷̩̭.̸̬̗̬͚̟̀̒.̷̲̼͊.̸̼̪̄̒̋͆͂"

Grian is frozen, wide-eyed, for just a moment– just long enough to be baffled by how quickly they caught up, as his thoughts go back to the previous night– its claws on his neck, its claws at his face– before managing to muster out a croaking “ Run .”

They’re on their feet and sprinting immediately, and Grian chances a single look back: the Dog is.. still on the branch, head tilted almost mockingly, but within seconds they’ve launched themself off of the tree and in his direction– again! Grian doesn’t mind taking hits for the team if it means they won’t get hurt, but this doesn’t make any sense, and despite telling himself that it’s okay, that he’s dealt with a plenty of assassins before, his mind shuts down in fear, reminding him of the previous night again and again, making it harder to breathe. Why are they targeting him so much? Even back in their first fight, they were always on his back, only attacking Owen because she tackled them– and even then, that was just self-defense. When outright attacking, they seem to target Grian specifically. 

And how are they so fast?!

“Go go go go go-!” he shouts frantically, hissing as he feels needle-sharp claws graze his wing. Why are they so close already and not just tackling him? It’s like they’re all being toyed with!

A hissing Joel is throwing himself onto the Dog before Grian can blink, the two wrestling in a flurry of claws and teeth on the ground. It’s almost like a bloodier version of some sort of catfight, biting and scratching at each other without mercy, as the Dog manages another hit, slicing Joel’s cheek open. The Panda is then thrown off violently, a screech of concern escaping Jimmy’s throat, as Joel groans, blood gushing down his face from the wound dangerously close to his eye.

Martyn is suddenly in the fray too, but the Dog uses freakishly powerful legs to pin him to the grassy floor. A breathless shout is punched from his chest, the noise laced with pain as the Dog shoves him into the ground with their boot. They’re practically stepping on him, and Martyn chokes out another hoarse scream, before they skid away as Jimmy lunges forward with an enraged snarl.

Grian can only watch his friends be beaten into the floor, his own talons digging into the grass and refusing to let him move. He could see the Maze trio in the corner of his vision running away, but still sending quick and clearly concerned glances back towards the group. They seemed to be debating whether to join the fight or not, but still kept their distance. But why is he freezing up? He can’t freeze up now, he can’t let them get hurt-!

Mumbo is running toward the fight then, and Grian barely gets the chance to keen in distress before the Vampire is tossing a glowing violet crystal at their hunter and yelling, “DUCK!”

A layered, angry shriek echoes throughout the trees as the crystal makes contact with Demon’s mask-covered face, exploding on impact and creating a small smokescreen. Finally, Grian can move, scooping up a groaning Jimmy into his arms and making a break for it. 

He vaguely registers Scar slinging Joel’s arm over his shoulder, and Mumbo lifting Martyn in his arms in a bridal carry, the Siren wheezing with every breath. It is the small, unconscious knowledge that they’re being rescued that allows him to run like absolute hell, because the Dog is snarling and stumbling back to its feet already and they don’t have time to stall. It’s dazed, at least, but he has a feeling it won’t be for long. They all need to run.

So he runs, and he doesn’t dare look back.

---

The Outsiders make it to a village, and nearly collapse in relief at the gates of it. Some concerned townsfolk are immediately by their sides, taking quick notice of their injured friends, and offer them an inn to stay. Grian accepts the offer gratefully, quick to request some sort of cleric or at least first aid supplies to fix up the injured Outsiders. The villagers jump to accommodate, a small group leaving to fetch the village Cleric while the rest lead the weary nine to the town’s inn. It’s cozy and warm, more than enough to rest comfortably.

A Cleric is in the room in minutes, silently looking over the scratched up hybrids; Martyn’s chipped and roughened scales are covered in waterproof ointment and bandages, and he’s given medicine alongside some sort of cold pack wrapped in thin cloth for his abdomen because apparently the Dog broke two of his ribs. Joel’s bites and scratches are disinfected, and the massive parallel gashes on his face are stitched up and dressed. Jimmy’s beaten up wing is expertly wrapped, his own scratches also bandaged professionally. All three are given potions for their ailments, instructed on the intervals in which they should take them throughout each day until they’ve healed. The others are spread all around the relatively small room, exchanging nervous glances, while Owen and Apo are clearly arguing about something in a hushed manner. They are told to avoid jostling their injuries too much, before the Cleric takes her leave.

Mumbo heaves a weary sigh, his hand interlocked with Martyn’s. “Gods that was chaos… What were you three thinking, jumping in like that?” He softly demands. The three look sheepish, eyes glued to the floor.

“You could’ve died back there,” Apo mutters louder, claws digging into their own jacket. “You’re lucky that…  that thing was just messing with us. They could’ve killed all three of you, easily,” they insist, sending a quick glance toward Owen– likely remembering the first attack. Owen just shrugs, giving Apo a pointed look.

“If we attacked at the same time we could’ve won…” Joel practically pouts– the best he can with half of his face numb and bandaged– with his arms crossed and tail flicking angrily behind him. Gods, it really hurts to speak, but he is not gonna admit that. “We only got beat ‘cause we attacked sporadically–”

“That’s not the point!” Owen growls. “Sure, I did get involved in the first fight, but by now I know that fighting the Dog is way too risky! The point is that we were told to run, yet you went and tackled that assassin anyway! Here I thought we agreed on traps!”

“Well maybe we figured we didn’t have time for a trap and wanted to take the damn guy out now!” Martyn hisses right back.

“Guys-”

“You were reckless!” Owen snarls, wings fluffing defensively with a barely noticeable tremble. “All of you! Reckless!”

“Guys y-”

“We can’t just sit around and wait for this guy to chase us! Mumbo managed to hurt them thanks to us!” Jimmy exclaims.

“So help me VOID!” Grian shouts, eight heads snapping toward him immediately. “Are you quite done bickering? We need a plan, pull yourselves together.”

The room is plunged into silence, eight hybrids sitting ramrod straight and avoiding each other’s eyes at all costs as Grian stares them down. Ah. The Commander voice, dammit. The Sunbird sighs, forcing his wings and shoulders to slump. “..Sorry. Didn’t mean to let that slip, I just…” Another sigh. “You three were reckless, yes, but we also can’t run from this guy forever. We’ll wear ourselves out, and I have a feeling that’s what it wants. We need an actual game plan, yeah?”

Acho hums softly, running a soothing hand through Owen’s feathers. “I agree with Scar, we should use our more advanced strategies. The tripwires and- click-whistle!- p-pressure plates won’t fool this one. We need to get creative.”

Grian nods with a hum of his own. “Any ideas?”

“We could ambush,” Joel suggests, clearly still bloodthirsty. “You lot know I’m right, if some of us attack all at once we could get some hits in. Just Martyn and Grian together were able to get them on the ground during that first chase, right? Three or more of us could do even better.”

“They hardly stayed down for like… five seconds, Joel,” Grian argues. “Even Mumbo’s crystal only stunned them for a little bit, and that was an explosion to the face. This guy’s too resilient for us to just go throwing punches and hope for the best.”

Grian’s talons tap a rhythm onto the flooring as he thinks the situation over, claws absentmindedly picking dirt out from his own feathers. His eyes gaze over his friends, his partners– Mumbo is stimming nervously, his leg bouncing while he squeezes Martyn’s hand as if to halt his own hands wringing, the Siren appearing just as restlessly anxious. Scar has an easy smile on his face, but he’s petting Jellie in that way that just immediately tells Grian how unsure he is of everything. Joel is clearly trying to appear cool-headed and determined, but there’s a furrow to his brow and a wince in his lips that betrays his own uncertainty and pain. Apo’s tail is swaying and twitching in anxious little flicks, occasionally coming around to grab Owen’s wrist in a tight grip. Acho’s tics have increased in frequency like they do when star’s nervous, several jerks of the head, twitches, and clicks of the tongue alongside a few whistles echoing throughout the room. They’re nervous. All of them. “All of this seems too risky…”

“We could stick to traps for now,” Apo says, despite his obvious nerves, as he slumps against Owen’s shoulder again. “It’d at least confuse them, maybe even work– but if they don’t, we could just be using the traps to wear them out and then attack hand-to-hand. Give us an advantage.”

Jimmy grunts worriedly, “But we’d also be tiring ourselves out, wouldn’t we? We’re lucky we found this village, we don’t have shelter to rest every night. If we try trapping them and fail, we won’t be getting any sleep because we’ll be running for our lives the whole time! We’re exhausted enough from getting woken up just last night!”

“Well what do you suggest?” Owen counters, defensive of the Demon slumped against her shoulder. “We can’t fight, can’t trap– what, we just keep running when they find us? Stay here until they get bored?”

“For Dragon’s sake if you two start fighting again we’re going to have issues,” Grian grumbles, fed up with the squabbling. He sighs, so very tired and so very done. “I say we try Apo’s idea. We have good traps we can use, maybe one of them will work. At the very least we’ll tire them out– we’ve gone days without sleep before, we’ll live with a little loss of rest for the sake of survival, don’t you think?”

He hears a few tired groans and huffs of resignation, before they’re all nodding along. Time for some traps, then… after some rest. They still have injured friends, after all.

“Alright, I say we take a break for at least a few hours so you three–” he gives a pointed glare to the three bandaged Outsiders, “–can heal up a bit. No arguing, I want us in at least slightly better shape before we try this.” The three grumble and complain halfheartedly, but ultimately agree, and the group splits. Thank the   Void.

~

Martyn is peeved. Yes, he is reclined in his boyfriend’s lap– apparently this position is best for broken ribs, bonus for Mumbo cuddles of course. Yes, he is being given headpats by said boyfriend, the Vampire’s mustache tickling his shoulder from where their head is resting. Yes, despite all of this, he is still pissed.

“I can hear you grumbling to yourself, y’know,” Mambo mutters gently, offering to listen in the softest way they know how. Right near his ear, thankfully, so he can actually hear it. Martyn heaves a groaned sigh.

“They broke my sword,” he pouts, arms crossed and tail slapping against the floor pathetically. “Clean in half, Mumbo, stuck it in the ground and stepped on it– the freak stepped on it! Just shattered the thing with its foot like it was nothing!” Maybe he was covering his fear with anger, sue him! That’s a freaky thing to do!

“You didn’t even like that sword, M,” Mumbo points out, frustratingly correct. “You’ve been looking for an excuse to get rid of it for ages, haven’t you?”

Mumbo was right, of course, as they usually were. He’d had the sword since Evo’s collapse, and the thing reminded him far too much of that island purge he and his friends barely escaped, far too much of the day he lost part of his hearing. It was a gleaming, sharp memento of everything that happened that day, but he’d never been able to bring himself to part with it. Nostalgia, perhaps.

“It pisses me off, alright?” He hisses under his breath, fully aware that his partner can hear it clearly. “This.. Demon-looking guy just– shows up, hovering above Grian like a little freak, and has the strength to shatter a sword by stepping on it. It has the strength to toss us around like we’re ragdolls, and that’s– it’s terrifying, Mumbo.”

He feels, more than hears, a small hum briefly vibrate in the other’s chest. “They’re strong, yes, but we’re a team,” they assure him. “There’s nine of us and one of them, yeah? We’ll get them eventually, it’ll just be a bit harder than usual.”

“Of course it’ll be harder, with the way they just jumped us! The worst part is that it seems like they aren’t even trying! They are either watching us, which is very creepy by the way, or just… running after Grian! Did you see how they mostly ignored the rest of us? I felt like he was making fun of us! Stupid Dog. Stupid sword. Agh, I just… I hope you’re right, Mumbo,” he mutters, letting his head fall backward to thump against their chest. “Void I hope you’re right.”

---

The Outsiders pack up a couple days later, the Innkeeper and Cleric seeing them off.

“Don’t forget t’ah change those three hybrids’ bandages frequently, understood?” The Cleric gruffly instructs, shoving a bag of medical supplies into Grian’s reluctant arms. “Have the Siren use that cold pack for ten to twenty minutes three times a day– nevah without the cloth, or he’ll give ‘imself frostbite– and drink his potions. Broken bones nevah heal completely without potions, y’hear?”

“O-oh we can’t possibly take all of this-!” “Ya can and ya will!” She insists, cutting off the stammering Sunbird. “I got a feelin’ you nine are headed for trouble. You’ll need that bag– just take it, son.”

Grian thanks the woman profusely, only being waved off and shooed away with one last order to take care of his injured comrades. “Ya seem like a family,” she nods firmly. “Take care of each other, kid.”

The villagers see them off with friendly waves and smiles, urging them to return should they need anything. They agree with grins of their own, happy to have a place to come back to just in case.

It’s right as they step off of the path and onto the transitioning gravel, just before the forest, that Grian feels that old and familiar prickle in the back of his neck– telling him he’s being watched.

Notes:

So I'm not gonna make the mistake of a promise this time, but I can say I will TRY to be somewhat consistent with updates. I have no idea what'll end up happening though, so again, no promises. Hope you enjoyed this chapter! We're picking up the pace with the story, and I'm really excited for what's to come. See you next time!

Glitchy Text Translation: "Found you..."

Chapter 4: And it hurts like hell

Notes:

Chapter TW/CW: Uncharacteristic cursing, fantasy fight scene, injury, dehumanization

Chapter title is from "Hurts Like Hell" by Fleurie and Tommee Profitt

!!Hover mouse over glitchy text for a boxed translation! (Mobile/Tablet users should see End Notes)

Dark. Cold.

There’s blue- blue? Blue. Where is-? 

Hornsowclaws hurthurthurt it hurt ?̵̨̡̻̖̭̪̻̄̌͒͗̀?̵̧͚̑̀̑̊̔̎b̷̧͇͎̦̣͗̈̈́̍̓̅̀r̶̮̹̅̇̀̎ȍ̷̡̰͋̀̇͠t̷̢̢̢̼̥̾͗́̄̕͜h̵̗̃̄ę̵̫̑̎̔͠ͅr̴̢̧͔̗͈͕̃͋̈́͘̚͜͠?̶̠̤͚̦̀?̶͉̤̻̪̮̲̃̎̉?̶̲̀͑͒̑͝

Eye its eye-? Two eye one eye two eye no eye-

"D̴͇͖̠̻̹̓̅̈́̐̅o̸̩͑͒̈ğ̶̺̮͌͜s̶̛̥̆͋,̵̛̼̱̑̈ͅ ̸͎̯̪̝͌͂̃͒̐m̷͚̟̙̫̿̎̆̂ͅę̵̛̬͍è̵̤̩̠̟̉ͅt̷͔̍̈́̀͠ ̴̡̺̼̃͊͘͠ô̷̜̏̇͘ǘ̸̫̱̻̇̀̊̌r̵̨͎̫̲͑̽́ͅ ̷̮̣̞͕͖̎ñ̷̝̻͎̦̝͝e̷̺̽w̶͎̐̈́ě̷̻̏͌͘͝ͅs̴̨͚͉̺̀͂̇̈́ṭ̴̘͛̿ ̵͙̖̜͙́́e̸̡͓̝̠̥̍l̸͔̃͋i̷̡̡̮͕̽̎͘t̴̝͔̝̮͂̄̓͂̕ë̴͚́̔.̸̢̮̞͎͚͐̉ ̶̞͙̝̑̅̍́͝E̵͓̣͇̍x̸̛͖̓̏͐͜o̸̙̫̪̙̒͗͐r̸̭̟̓̑.̸̟͚̮̟̪̀͑̋̒͠"

E̴̠̺̳͕͈̊̇̂̿͝x̶̨̩̲̋͑͠͝͝o̶̫̠͔͈̖̙͐̍̍͜r̴̡̛̙͔̤̱̘̓̄͝E̴̠̺̳͕͈̊̇̂̿͝x̶̨̩̲̋͑͠͝͝o̶̫̠͔͈̖̙͐̍̍͜r̴̡̛̙͔̤̱̘̓̄͝E̴̠̺̳͕͈̊̇̂̿͝x̶̨̩̲̋͑͠͝͝o̶̫̠͔͈̖̙͐̍̍͜r̴̡̛̙͔̤̱̘̓̄͝E̴̠̺̳͕͈̊̇̂̿͝x̶̨̩̲̋͑͠͝͝o̶̫̠͔͈̖̙͐̍̍͜r̴̡̛̙͔̤̱̘̓̄͝E̴̠̺̳͕͈̊̇̂̿͝x̶̨̩̲̋͑͠͝͝o̶̫̠͔͈̖̙͐̍̍͜r̴̡̛̙͔̤̱̘̓̄͝Ẻ̵̯͎̱̘͙̓̈͐̊ͅX̸̪̿͠Ơ̵̢̢̦̖̬̌̆́̏͝R̵̙̣͆̋̂͜͠Ẻ̵̯͎̱̘͙̓̈͐̊ͅX̸̪̿͠Ơ̵̢̢̦̖̬̌̆́̏͝R̵̙̣͆̋̂͜͠Ẻ̵̯͎̱̘͙̓̈͐̊ͅX̸̪̿͠Ơ̵̢̢̦̖̬̌̆́̏͝R̵̙̣͆̋̂͜͠Ẻ̵̯͎̱̘͙̓̈͐̊ͅX̸̪̿͠Ơ̵̢̢̦̖̬̌̆́̏͝R̵̙̣͆̋̂͜͠-

.

..

…

…

Target. 

There. 

H̵̖͋u̶̠̰̞͎̒n̴͔̻͖̠̿͌t̴̯̪̖̎͛.

---

Grian is walking alone. The taiga is as cold as always; the last remains of melted snow make soft crunching noises under his talons, the bushy leaves of obnoxiously tall trees block the lowering sun from his eyes, and a breeze dances between his feathers. It's a beautiful, chilly afternoon, and Grian is alone.

Until he isn’t.

A much louder crunch echoes behind him, and it takes all of his strength not to give into his instincts and bolt. Instead, he turns only slightly faster than one would consider normal, and locks eyes– goggles– with the Dog. His breath hitches. Claws. Claws. Claws. Their head tilts in that incredibly mocking way, moving forward at an almost leisurely pace. Almost. It’s undeniably calculated and cautious– they’re likely questioning Grian’s lack of teammates. Smart, but not smart enough, because the moment that Grian pauses is the moment they pounce.

Grian side-steps them, only managing to dodge the demon’s claws by a mere inch, and stumbles back many, many steps as the Outsiders’ trap is triggered.

Thick, durable ropes– having been concealed by leaves and snow– spring up from the ground, swirling around the demon and lifting them into the air by several feet. They hiss and snarl in a mix of confusion and blind rage, squirming against the bonds but only serving to tighten them. Their right horn– which Grian can now see is a black antler– poking out from their hood gets snagged by one of the ropes; this only seems to agitate them further, as they growl in frustration and continue to struggle.

At once, the remaining eight Outsiders jump down from their places in the trees, landing in a circle around the captured assassin. Most of them hesitate to get too close– Martyn, stubbornly, does not.

“Gotcha, you little shit,” he taunts, leaning forward and coming practically nose-to-nose with the demon. He tilts his head down, inspecting a small metal plate on their uniform. “Exor. What’s that, ‘s that your name? Hm? Exor?”

Exor.

How disturbingly fitting.

The Dog– Exor, apparently– growls lowly in response to the taunting, head snapping forward for their jaw to attempt closing onto Martyn’s nose. He leans back at the last second, chuckling mockingly. “Void, you are a dog, huh? That why they call you dogs? ‘Cause you bite?”

Exor’s only response is a vicious hiss, akin to a viper.

“Tch. Fine then, not like we need any words from you. You’re dying anyway.” Martyn retrieves his army knife and flicks it open, dragging the blade lightly across their skin, right above the collar strapped tight to their throat. “You sure you don’t want the privilege of some last words? We don’t usually let our hunters speak before we kill ‘em, y’know.”

“Martyn just finish the job so we can get some sleep, for Void’s sake!” Owen insists. “Quit playing with your damn food.”

Martyn rolls his eyes with an exaggerated groan, tail flicking in annoyance. “Fine, whatever. Impatient much? Gods…”

They’re all far too relaxed, far too confident, to realize what’s happening until it’s too late.

Exor twists in their bonds in the most unnatural, uncanny manner Grian’s ever had the misfortune of seeing. He swears he hears cracking as they struggle out of the ropes far too fast for any of them to react, the knots snapping under their claws and falling to the ground with several thumps. It painfully reminds Grian of the first chase, when he got a hit on their head, and it made a loud cracking noise– Gods, is this Dog impossible to kill or what?! 

“What the-!” Before Martyn can react, Exor is on their feet, placing their palm over Martyn’s face and shoving him down. He lets out a loud yelp mixed with a groan as his head collides with the ground, Exor’s claws scratching at his skin. Someone shouts in the background, and Grian sees people lunging at the Dog, but they don’t wait for any attacks to land and just stand up to once again take off towards Grian. 

Claws are coming toward his face, and he barely dodges enough to avoid having his eye stabbed out, instead earning himself a few nasty scratches across the cheek, mirroring Joel’s newly acquired ones. A nervous chirp rises in his throat as he finds himself stumbling backward again, only to be relentlessly pursued by the ever-stubborn Dog. He dodges again, and a blurred Apo is tackling Exor before he can blink. He’s tossed away as if light as a feather, rolling on the ground, but Grian can’t afford to be concerned because Exor just. Keeps. Coming.

And they are pissed.

They somehow grab Grian’s wing in the scuffle, and by instinct he frantically backs away again– he can only scream as they yank out a handful of iridescent feathers. Exor hisses in frustration for just a moment, before they seem to freeze. Grian turns around to use that and get a hit on his own, when he also goes still, carefully watching the Dog.

Their head tilts down, staring at the blue-green feathers in their clawed hand as if baffled. As if shocked.

As if horrified .

This single pause is just enough for Acho to deliver a fierce punch to their temple, knocking them to the ground and dragging both Apo and Grian away by the hands before he can blink. And once again, Grian allows himself to be dragged away from the fight with Exor, looking back at the Dog in fear and confusion. What… What just happened?

---

Scar carefully applies a stinging ointment to Grian’s left wing’s newly acquired bald spot, softly apologizing after each wince and chirp of distress. It’s like a papercut– relatively small, he’s felt much worse, but it hurts so badly anyway. 

His eyes travel, attempting to distract himself from the flame of agony at his back. Mumbo is reapplying Martyn’s bandages nearby, muttering softly in that gay-for-the-bit way that they have going on. They’re disgustingly committed. Martyn hisses when certain spots are prodded by the Vampire’s careful hands, sensitive scales twitching as ointment is applied, before the Vampire’s eyes move down toward the bandages on the Siren’s chest. 

Grian can hear a soft, “How are your ribs?” and an even softer murmur from Martyn follows, which he sadly does not hear, making him worried. He hopes that Martyn’s ribs are okay, because they are not able to help with that kind of wound here. And the new cut on his face doesn’t look pretty either.

Grian yelps when a particularly sensitive feather is adjusted, digging his talons into the floor. He averts his gaze somewhere else, continuing his attempted distractions, hating how sensitive his wings usually are, making him so vulnerable. 

Jimmy and Joel take turns redressing each other’s wounds, facing each other and twisted up in a complicated-looking fashion to reach different scratches and wrap bandages around limbs. How they do it he’ll never understand, the in-laws were just like that. Strange, never to be understood, but it works for them.

Scar prematurely apologizes this time, and Grian nearly shrieks when cool ointment is applied to the center of his new wound. Void that hurts. Distract, c’mon just distract yourself Grian, don’t allow yourself to succumb to the pain, Gods-

Owen and Acho are gently conversing with a still disoriented Apo, presumably checking for a concussion. They’ve done the same every other time someone was unceremoniously tossed away from Exor– Mumbo has already done the same for Martyn, considering the head-first-straight-into-the-ground shove he got, though this lacks the stern glares Apo had directed at Owen back when it happened the first time. They’d seemed upset with her back then, the two engaged in hushed whispers about something that the rest of them weren’t privy to. Odd, but not too different from the usual to be concerning.

Fidgeting with the small adhesive bandage on his cheek, covering where he was scratched, Grian hisses as Scar finishes dressing his injured wing. Finally, ouch.

“There you go, birdie! Not too loose, not too tight?” the Vex questions, smoothing out the feathers that surround the bandages.

“No, feels fine Scar,” Grian grunts in response, hand dropping from his cheek and into his own lap. “As fine as it can feel, anyway.”

“You’ll heal up in no time at all, G! Feathers grow back, you’ll be okay,” Scar reassures the avian, his now free hands running through Jellie’s fur.

Grian just sighs, turning around and climbing onto the scarred man’s shoulder to perch. A bit of anxiety immediately melts away. “It’s the principle of the matter, Scar. Goodness knows these things have taken worse damage, but Exor just tugged the feathers out by the handful! It’s annoying!” he grumbles.

“I think you’re upset that they target you, birdie,” Scar says, annoyingly observant and annoyingly right.

“Of course I am!” Grian exclaims, wings fluffing in frustration; he ignores the shock of pain that movement earns him. “Nine of us and they come after me. Me! The only time they’ve hurt the others is when the others come at them. A-and even then I can feel them staring at me behind those freaky goggle-cover things!” he rants, hands waving around wildly. His talons are probably digging into his perch’s shoulder, but said perch doesn't react beyond a fond chuckle.

“Seems to me they’ve identified you as our leader. Perhaps they think you’re stronger than us so they wanna take you out first– I’d take it as a compliment!” Scar reasons with a grin, gently scratching behind Jellie’s ears. Grian can only groan. Then sigh.

“It’s… ugh. I keep thinking about the face they made, Scar,” he confesses. “They froze up, and obviously we can only see their mouth but– tch.” How to describe it? How can he possibly articulate the utter horror he somehow saw on that assassin’s face? How to describe the way they’d stared at the feathers in their hand? The stupor, as if they hadn’t meant to yank out those feathers, as if they hadn’t wanted to. As if some sort of sudden clarity had come to them. 

It had been like they were distressed by what they’d done, so much so that they’d frozen up and just layed there when Acho punched them– because there was no way that one punch knocked them down better than Martyn and Grian combined had, regardless of Fae strength or whatever. He’d felt the prickling in his neck as Acho dragged him away, they were still staring at him, they just… stayed there. Watched them run, and didn’t chase. Again .

Behind his annoyance and grumbling, Grian is… disturbed.

He’s not… concerned though, is he? For Exor?

…Pff, that would be ridiculous. That Dog has been giving him nightmares these past two days.

“I get whatcha mean, G,” Scar startles him out of his thoughts, and Grian finally realizes he’s been quiet for a while. Oops. “Our Demon friend seemed quite upset when they did this to ya.”

“Demon friend, Scar?” Grian questions with a snort. “They’re trying to kill us, I don’t think they’re a friend.”

“Nonsense, anyone can be a friend, G! Even the murdery ones!” The Vex insists, gesturing passionately with one hand to keep the other on the task of petting Jellie. “Look at us for example! All of us are a little bit murdery! It’s just… everyone has their own experiences, reasons for doing what they do, don’t you think?”

His words give Grian pause, eyes wandering the room again. Scar… he’s not wrong. The Maze Trials forced Owen, Apo, and Acho to adapt and kill in order to survive. Himself, Jimmy, and Martyn had to leave people behind to survive the Evo purge, and most of those people absolutely died and that blood was certainly on their hands. Grian killed several cultists to escape the Watchers. Scar was forced to kill in that “death world” experiment, when his name was still S-02. Mumbo killed just to feed himself when they were younger, and killed the Generals that held them captive in the army. Joel had that stint of madness in the task force, away from his wife and willing to slaughter anyone getting in the way of seeing her again.

Every single one of them have killed in order to escape STARR, whether it was the labs or the armed forces, and none of them would hesitate to kill again if it meant freedom. Is Exor… the same? Is Exor hunting them to survive? STARR is cruel, after all– would Exor… would they not survive if they went back empty-handed?

Is Exor like them?

---

“Hey Krow..?”

“Yeah Owen?"

“No matter what happens, I… I’m glad we were friends.”

“...Me too, man. Let’s… How about we agree that– whoever survives this, we remember.”

“Remember?”

“Everything that happened here. This… death we’ve been forced into. Whoever lives… whoever survives this remembers. We don’t let what happened here be forgotten, okay?”

“...Okay. Deal. Good luck, Krow.”

“Yeah.. good luck. No hard feelings ‘n all.”

“Hah, yeah, no… no hard feelings. It was nice knowing you, my friend.”

“Yeah… it was nice.”

Owen shoots up with a gasp, hand instantly flying up to cover his burning right eye. Oh Void it burns .

"F̶̢̮͓̻͔͂o̵̳͛͗́͆͊r̸̨͔̳͇̤̍ ̶̧̤͎̿̀͠w̷̲̏́́͜͝h̵̢͋͑̇͐ḁ̷̰̼͖̇̈́t̸̘̯̀̐̚ ̵̨͖̠̹̿̈́̾ĩ̴̺͖̗̹t̵̟͙̼̹͆́͝'̶̱̭̠͝s̵̢͉̗̐̑͗ ̴̪̤͓̮̂w̴̼̞͚͛̌̉͊̄ǫ̶̼͎̺̗̃̋̽r̷̛̭͊t̶̡͔̝̲͖̾̑ḫ̸̤̟̠̯̕–"

No. No, nonono no .

"–t̷̯͙̋̑͜͠ẖ̵͈̙̰̇̋i̵̙̭͙̘͆͜ş̷̣̇̆̀̔̔͜ ̷̧̘̭̩̒̀̌̓v̸̝̦̓͆̓̄́e̶͇̞̊̏͋̓͘r̸͉̳̚s̵͙͕͇̊̆̉̾͘i̴͚̥͎̰̓̄o̴̠̦̬̰̠͆n̸̰̼͋͗ ̴̫̟̐̎̐o̵̭͒̉f̷̨̮̖͇̝̒̎̑̌͠ ̷͖̼͌̑͑̕͝ỳ̴͕͚̹͇̿̔ȍ̷͈̬̿̄̚ṵ̵̱̤̰̰͛'̴̱̥͕̝̾̈́s̶̡̜͉̜͉̑͗ ̶̨̟̦̳̬͋̀͋b̷̘͑̿e̴̡̟͇͚͆e̴̛͚̝̤̝̺̽̀͌̑ǹ̷̢̲͎̈͒̾ ̴͍̳͔̰̎̒̄͝ͅą̵̥̖́ ̵̯͉̯͉̤͛̅ř̸̘̪͇ͅë̸͚̩́ä̴̡́l̷͕͒̃̏̕͝ļ̷̨̢̯̲̅̓ý̷̨͈͓̀͝͝͠ ̶̹̄̀̊̒g̷̣̥̮̯͕͑͋́̋̃o̸̢̙̬̭̓͛͊o̴̥͂̈͛͝d̷͖̈̀͐ ̶̧̞͓̤̈́͂̒f̶̤̮̰͐͛͋͝͝ŗ̵͚̰̋͒i̵̙̋̒ę̵̮̫̯́̔ń̴͇̋d̴̨̉̀,̸̘̳̹̈́͠ ̵̛̯̻̭̽̓͜O̴̧͗̈́̋͒ẁ̷̩͓̩́e̷̳̍̋́̈́͝n̸͓͉̗̘̣̈̓."

Not this memory. Anything but this memory please -

"Į̷̦̒̌̋͗̅'̸̨̬̍̐m̶̡̎͂͑͑ ̵͍̤̺̠̓͊̏̇̀g̴͉͇͈̱̿͂̀ͅö̷̠͙̳̮̫́͒̽̓n̶̗̓͊͌ņ̷̊̒̄ã̶̧̝̜̣͓̒̓ ̸̨̨̘̤̰̓̾́̍m̶͉͌̌̕i̶̢͔̲͂̄͜s̸̞͓͛ͅs̷̗̃͐̒̄ ̵̖̦̣͊̅̏i̷̥͓̩̲̻̍̑͋̏t̷̛̮̦̭̫̹̅͌̑,̸͇͊̿ ̴̜͇̱͌̿͠ÿ̴̼̦͍͔́͝'̶͕͙̪̍͋̽͘k̸̯̗̮͉̍̎͂n̸̢̡͌̾̈o̶̢̤̩̣̩̒̈́̂͠w̷̨̢̨̢̘͝?̶̫̦̺͐̎̈́͗̃"

Please. Anything else, please . These are supposed to stay in his dreams!

"Ș̷̡̣͘͜Ơ̴̡̄͆͐͝ͅN̵̯̼̑͌̏̓Ö̴̝́̑̅́̚F̶͍̃͑͒͝Ã̷̲͔̒O̶̪͉͘W̵̫̤̗̹͍͂̆-"

"Į̴͓̦͎̗͐̏̌͛'̵̮̺̯̑̚m̴̖̐͌͜͝͝ ̴̛̺̎͗̓ͅs̵̜̏̉̏̾o̵͓̰͎̽́̈́͗ṟ̵̛̛̹́̔́r̵̪̙̐̑̄̏ŷ̴͔̲ ̸̺̌̆͝Ǩ̴̫̫̬̈̊̅r̸̗̹͔̪͙̉̀̚ó̷͎̏̅͑͛w̸̥̬̭̃̈ ̷̨̒̓̾̃Ḯ̶͓͛̈́'̴̝̼̽̓̕m̵̳̩̃̂́ͅ ̷̬̎͌̅̐͜͝s̷͎̤̲̍͒̾͝ơ̵͉̭̞̈́̃͠r̷̺̀̓͛̋͝r̶̠͔͔͕͆̍̆y̷̢͗̈́̐̓̋-̸̣̙͓͂̆͋͘͝"

“Owen. Owen, hey-”

"O̴̥͙̜͌̓͠w̸̫͚͑̀̅ ̵̛͕̦͌s̵̥̖̯̬͂̂͌ș̸̫͇̝̋h̵̛͎̑̇͘h̸̢̟̟͙̝͊̀̐͝h̶̛̗̖̄̏̈́̐ī̸̝͚̤̀̍̒̕ṯ̷̊̉ͅ ó̵̗͎̲͐̈͘͝ẅ̷̡̮́͌̒͗̀-̶̪̓̍̆"

"I̸̡̩̓'̸̛̭͕̺̾m̵̥͕̖̠̘̃̒̔̽ ̷̨̈́̈́̕s̴̼̭̥̈́̌̀o̸̭̦̝̒̊͑̍r̷̰͊̋̿r̵̖̰̂͊̾͠ỵ̶̛̱̼̱̓͆̚-̵̯̟͎͖̂͐̋̇͊!̶̤̋"

“Owen!”

"G̸̛̛̤͍̾͂ͅA̷̡͔̤̿͆̈́̿́H̵̘̹͌͂̆̈́̊-̴̢͎̝́̍̀̓͊!̷̧͔͈͈̺̉̈́͊̚͠"

"Ȁ̶̢̫͊Ģ̸̦͍̓́͠ͅH̸̢̥͔̊̿͠͝ ̶̡͈̥̳̘͒̾̔̂͝M̶͖̝̀̏̈́̕͝Ÿ̸̯̜̦̫͑͒͘͝ Ẹ̵̄̔Ỹ̷̧̼̩̲̈́͑̿͝E̷̢͔̬̅̃͐̚-̵̡͇̲͇̭̋̄̂!̸͎̬̘̖́͛̈́"

“Owen snap out of it-!”

“Can he even hear us-?”

"W̶͚͕̦̱̮̔̽̒̃ẹ̵̢̖̦̀̿͊̆̕l̴̀̀̏̋ͅl̷̘͈̗̖̆̆ ̷̨͉̰̂̑ͅd̵̠̗̆o̴͇̳̝̩͋͗ñ̵͎̦̳̮̈̄͐ĕ̷̯̣̰.̷̶̢͉̤̳̝̟̹̎͐̇͋̌͐̊͋ G̵̢̛͙̖̬̈́̑̋͜ẽ̵̖̯͕̭́͛̇̕ñ̵̹̦̈́̔̅̕e̴̹͉̠͑r̴̦͚͉̻̽́̒̌͠a̷͉͛̔͐̇̓l̴̗͛̅̚"

“OWEN!”

Owen is brought back to himself with an abrupt stinging in his cheek, gasping for air and clutching his own violently burning eye. His wings spasm painfully on the floor behind his back, stinging under his body’s pressure and forcing him to sit up to get away from the sensation.

“Owen, I need you to let go of your eye.” She vaguely registers Acho speaking to her above her own breathing, her unused hand moving up to clutch at her chest. She can’t breathe. “Owen.”

“Owen it’s us,” Apo assures, though they can barely hear it over the ringing in their ears. All they can hear is its voice. All they can hear is the General. He can’t lose control now. He can’t. He won’t.

It takes some strain and struggle, but she manages to move her trembling hand away from her eyes and cling to it with the other hand, both tucked to her chest like a lifeline. His eye still burns, he can feel the scar as if it were acquired only moments ago– as if his dream hadn’t taken only his mind back in time.

“Okay good Owen, thank you, just try and hold still…” Acho mutters, cold hands cupping her face. It’s soothing, it keeps the voice at bay. It’s nice.

“There… just relax, Owen, I’ve pushed him back again,” their friend whispers, rubbing gentle circles on their temples. “You can relax.”

“Is he gonna be okay..?” Apo questions softly. Owen doesn’t hear Acho’s response. He’s already falling again.

“He will,” Acho whispers back, letting go of Owen as the Sparrow once again drifts away, his face slightly relaxing. Star sighs heavily, dropping to the mat, while Apo hugs their knees to their chest, staring at the trees on the horizon. 

“Do you.. think he will ever be okay?” The Demon asks hesitantly, their eyes slowly shifting back to the Fae. 

The lack of an answer is already an answer on its own, as Apo’s breath hitches, slowly laying down on their own mat, and turning to their side to hug the Sparrow. It doesn’t matter. Even if Owen will struggle like this for the rest of his life, they will always be by his side, both them and Acho. That’s the only thing that matters. No matter how many nightmares he will have, they will always be by his side to send them away, because that’s what friends are for, right?

---

“You cannot be serious. You– You’re not serious, are you?” Owen demands, gaping at Grian. Most of the group is staring in similar states of shock and disbelief– Scar is just smiling proudly, and Mumbo’s mustache is twitching in that little thoughtful manner it gets when he’s thinking too hard.

“I am. I want to capture Exor instead of killing them,” Grian states, very matter-of-fact. He is set on this, and he will not budge.

“They’re an assassin. We always kill the assassins, what in the Overworld are you thinking?” Joel questions incredulously, not believing that Grian is actually suggesting something stupid like this. “We know they can be captured now, we just need to be quick instead of bantering!” He exclaims, giving Martyn a pointed look, as the Siren scoffs, looking away while a hand moves up to the new cut on the face.

“We can get answers. Think about it– Exor is the strongest, most capable assassin we’ve ever faced. We’ve never been run this ragged before. Exor is good; they might know things, important things! Someone this well-trained has to have information from higher up the ladder. If we interrogate them instead of killing them right away, maybe we can finally figure out how to get home,” Grian explains, hands waving erratically as he defends his decision.

“..He’s not wrong,” Apo mutters after a small amount of hesitation. “Exor’s strong, and we all know that STARR’s training is more intense with their important soldiers. If they’re strong enough to pose a challenge to us then they must know things!”

Owen toward Apo so quickly that it makes the Demon wince. “It’s dangerous!” The Sparrow insists, wings fluffing in distress. He flinches for a moment, then continues, “They could learn more about us if we capture them, they could kill us all! If we leave them alive we risk ourselves!”

“So someone keeps watch!” Scar suggests with a grin. “Multiple someones, even! If we tie them up real good, make sure they can’t wiggle those claws of theirs and cut their bonds again, then they can’t escape! We can have somebody watch them just in case, we interrogate them, get our info– it’s a solid plan if we do it right!”

“I agree with Scar,” Mumbo says. “So long as we execute it properly , this plan could work. We just have to be careful. Play it safe.”

“How can you be so sure?” Joel questions, fur prickled in agitation (and worry, but he’d never admit that). “Exor managed to cut themself out of those ropes whilst hanging from a tree, what makes you think leaving them on the ground with us would be any different? If anything it’d make it easier for them!”

“There are better ways to tie someone up outside of traps though, Joel,” Acho reasons, ignoring the shocked look they get from Owen and the smug wagging of eyebrows from Martyn, as if daring them to say something. But no one in this group is stupid enough for that, so he continues. “If we’re able to properly restrain them it would actually be more difficult; keep their hands spread a bit, have their arms behind them instead of at their sides, et cetera. Tying them more thoroughly would allow for more precaution to be taken.”

“Acho you can’t seriously be considering this..!” Owen says, tense with worry. “You can’t possibly think-”

“I’m not only considering, Owen, I’m set on this. I agree with Grian; if we capture Exor– properly- we have a chance to gain useful information,” the Fae asserts, pointed ear twitching as they lock eyes with the Sparrow. They soften when they notice Owen’s flinch, feathered ears pinned back and hurt in his eyes. “...Don’t you want to go home, Owen?” Acho turns his attention around the group, gray-blue eyes glazing over the hesitant hybrids. “That’s the goal, isn’t it? To get home? To see our friends, our families? Live in peace? We can’t do that without dismantling STARR, and we can’t dismantle STARR without information,” star adds softly, getting a low huff from Owen in response.

“...I am pretty sick of running,” Jimmy sheepishly admits. “I have a very lovely Blaze waiting at home for me… I miss my husband, y’know?”

After a few moments, Joel is heaving a sigh. “Agh, when you put it that way… I’ve got a wife I oughta get back to.” He turns and ruffles Jimmy’s hair, chuckling at the squawk he gets in return. “Promised her I’d get this fella home, too. Can’t do that without kicking some STARR labs butt!”

“..I’ve still got someone to meet, don’t I?” Martyn hesitantly adds, fingers locking with Mumbo’s as he glances at the Vampire, a small smile twitching onto his face. “Still gotta get your dad’s blessing after all.”

Apo huffs softly, turning to Owen. The Sparrow still looks unsure, wings curled close in open worry with her ears still pinned back. Her scarred eye flares a bright orange for a split second, and Apo catches her hand in his own before she can cover it. “You still need closure, Owen,” the Demon mutters gently, giving their hand a squeeze. “You need to see someone about the General in your head, finally have that talk with your dad? You… can’t do that without getting home.”

Owen takes a shaky breath, the leftover glowing dying down. His eyes harden, and his ears perk back up in silent determination. “...You’re right,” he whispers, returning the earlier squeeze of Apo’s hand. “What’s the plan?”

---

“Wait Martyn what was that about Mumbo’s dad’s blessing-?”

Notes:

Well, our Outsiders have a new plan! Will it work? How should I know, these people have a mind of their own. We'll have to wait and see! Hope you enjoyed the chapter, see ya next time :]

Glitchy Text Translations:
??brother???
"Dogs, meet our newest elite. Exor."
ExorExorExorExorExorEXOREXOREXOREXOR-
Hunt.

"For what it's worth-"
"-this version of you's been a really good friend, Owen."
"I'm gonna miss it, y'know?"
"SONOFAOW-"
"I'm sorry Krow, I'm sorry-"
"Ow sshhhit ow-"
"I'm sorry-!"
"GAH-!"
"AGH MY EYE-!"
"Well done, General."

Chapter 5: You still haunt the corner of my heart

Notes:

Going to make something clear real quick. I do not have Tourette's, I do not know anyone who has Tourette's, and Acho has Tourette's. I do not claim to know ANYTHING about the disorder, and I don't want anyone to take this as an accurate depiction of it. At the end of the day, this is fanfiction, it is not serious. I ask that you please forgive any inaccuracies, there's only so much research you can do for something like this. That is all <3
-Jinx

Chapter TW/CW: distressing(?) visuals, self-worth issues

Chapter title is from "Killing Kind" by Marianas Trench

!!Hover mouse over glitchy text for a boxed translation! (Mobile/Tablet users should see End Notes)

“Pearl? Pearl I’m scared!”

“We’ll be okay G-man, no sweat! We’ll- oof- we’ll be just fine!”

“Wh-what about Timmy? A-And Martyn!”

“Martyn swam away and Jim got picked up by Lizzie and Joel. They’re just fine, buddy-”

“What about B? Where’s B?”

“...Don’t worry about that, lil brother. B’s… B’s gonna be just fine.”

“Where is he Pearl?”

“We need to move, Gri. C’mon-”

“No where’s B?! Where’s-”

 

“Grian- ah there you are, there… He’s awake now, Scar, yeah he’s up.” Mumbo’s voice becomes clearer by the second as Grian is jostled from his slumber. Was he dreaming again..? He can’t…

"P̴͇̤̲̓͊̈Ë̸͔̹͙́͜͠Ą̸̈́͊̎͗R̸͈̜̹̹̿̋͠Ľ̷̢̨͎͙͔ ̸̺̙̪͆̉̍́̈́ͅG̴̼̻̣̱͈͊O̸͓͔̺͕͒̿͋̊̌ ̸̦̙̱̇̓͋͒̚Ḇ̵͌A̸͙̒̂͝͠C̸̥̒K̷̫̥͙̠̼̑͊!"

Can’t quite… remember?

"P̸̬̂́̈́E̴̘͎̗͗̀̇͑͝A̴̦̎̽̚͝Ŕ̶̯̂̈L̶̛̠̿͒͠ ̶͉̦̐͛̓H̸͍̯̠͂È̸̻̥̈́'̶͍̿̕̕s̴̨̖̏͆ ̸͖̪̜̌Ŝ̶̯̬͕̾̒̊̋Ṱ̶̛͖Ḯ̷̫̬L̴̬͎̙̿̐̓͘L̸͕̹̳̽̐̇̏̎ ̵͉̣͇̪̑̕T̸̨̛̑͛̾Ḫ̸̞̣̖̥̈́͒̾͘͠È̵͜Ȑ̴̯̖͌̃̌̄È̷͇̥̖͔̳ P̷̧̲͕̜͈̉̂͐́L̶͓̣͈̘̍̕E̸̪̹̟̥̹͊͠͝A̶͇͖͎̰̿͝Ś̸̛͍̋Ḛ̵͊̃́-”

…Odd.

“You alright there, birdie?” Scar asks, bringing Grian’s attention back to his concerned friends. Scar is giving him that small, worried smile that makes his heart ache, and Mumbo has a familiar glint of anxiety in their eyes.

“..Y-yeah, yeah I’m alright. I… I may be nervous..?” Grian mutters, shaking the ringing from his ears. 

They’re attempting to capture Exor soon. Very soon– the next time they’re chased, they’ll be executing their plan. Currently, they’re set up in the forest again. The nine of them have split into their usual trios, each settled nearby in small shelters of leaves and thick spruce branches. The dark grass is smooth, almost soft, and just spongey enough to rest semi-comfortably. Now that he thinks about it, they’ve been seeing nothing but spruce for a while . That’s… weird, isn’t it? Regardless, Grian’s eyes catch on the leaves, calming his breathing by ensuring their remaining safety. No Dog hovering above them, no soldiers in the trees. 

His nerves over the upcoming mission must be the reason for… whatever just happened. Grian doesn’t dream anymore, after all. He’s just anxious.

"I̴̤͐͆ ̷͙͚̱̀͛S̷̥̱̖̈̈Ĕ̴͎̟E̸͎͕͍͐̕ ̴̩̃̇̐͘H̵̡̠̪̄I̸̧̞̎̉M̵̹͎͂̍̂̈́̈ͅͅ ̶̡̬͚̳̯͋͋͊͗͑P̸̳̞̆̌E̷͈͉̠̔̉̊͒À̸̟̮̼̐̋͊R̷̙͛̀ͅL̶̻̃ ̶͔͌́͊̽̌G̶̨͓̙̏̓O̸̱̘͓̬͌͒̄͌ ̸̡̡̝̰̲͗̀̃͝B̴̦͍́̋Ā̶̼̺̬̟͂̑C̵̤̀̎̍͝Ḱ̸̬̒́̂̚!"

…Just anxious.

“Ah, that’s understandable, Grian. This… is a risk. A big risk,” Mumbo agrees, eyebrows pinched in leftover worry. “We’ve never done something like this, I can understand why you’d be nervous. I mean– I know I am..!” 

“What MJ’s tryna say is that we get it, G,” Scar whispers, a hand on Mumbo’s shoulder to calm the Vampire. “But we’re gonna do great, yeah? Owen and Jimmy are both real strong, and they can fly away if things get dicey! That’s why we put them on distraction! We’ve got plenty of chances to get this right. It’ll work… and if it doesn’t, then we’ll try again until it does.”

Grian looks back at the group: the Maze survivors are huddled together under Owen’s wings, presumably keeping warm from the light snowfall. On the other side, Jimmy is guarding Joel and Martyn with his own wings, Joel’s furry tail acting as a warm blanket for them. Warmth is definitely helped by the winter coats they acquired that day, though. A shepherd in the last village they visited was kind enough to sell them the warm clothes for cheap, insisting they’d need it if they wanted to make it through the snowy taiga. Seems he was right– this forest is cold.

“Yeah… we’ll try again,” Grian agrees, heaving a sigh and collapsing onto Mumbo’s shoulder. “Thanks.”

“Of course,” Scar soothes without hesitation, while Mumbo’s arm seems to instinctively drape around Grian’s shoulders. It probably is instinctive, after all these years. 

“It’ll be fine,” Mumbo adds softly. Grian knows it’s to soothe himself as much as it is to reassure Grian. “We have a plan, we have contingencies… It'll be just fine. We’ll make it through this alive, just like every other chase!” He gives a decisive nod, and despite the shaky quality to his whispers, Grian feels his anxiety abate. Just a bit, but enough.

“I love you guys,” Grian finds himself muttering, on the crux of falling back into slumber. His two partners– friends he’s known and loved for years in a way that they could never explain to anyone properly– just burrow themselves closer to him, soaking in the warmth of his wings and words. They don’t need their own words to reciprocate. He knows. He sleeps.

~

Mumbo K. Void is not stupid. They have an IQ that rivals Jeb, they studied under the old teachings of Notch, and they were recruited by the army for the sole purpose of building weapons that no other being could seem to replicate. They are far from stupid.

Despite knowing this, Mumbo also knows they’re… missing something, when it comes to their avian partner.

The Sunbird had his secrets, as all of the Outsiders did, and Mumbo isn’t the type to pry. They have their own secrets after all, it’d just be hypocritical! Grian is entitled to keep whatever he wants to keep to himself, well, to himself. That isn’t what bothers Mumbo.

What bothers him is that he feels like he’s not missing a secret. He feels like he’s overlooking something painfully obvious, something on the very top layer of Grian and the inner workings of his head, but he doesn’t know what. It’s nagging at him constantly, like knowledge just out of his reach. Like something is lurking in his blind spot, but he can’t find the means to turn around and look.

It’s a little frustrating, really. Mumbo prides themself on their knowledge, even after their time in the army with said knowledge being used for such awful things. They got closure for that the day they murdered their way out of the camp. Knowing there’s something he’s missing, about his partner no less, just… ticks at him. Bothersome.

“What’s on your mind, MJ?” Scar’s smooth whisper eases him out of his musings. “You’re looking at that snow patch like it killed your potato!”

“Har har,” Mumbo remarks dryly, the playful jab at his vegetarian phase thoroughly unamusing. He hesitates, then– not for any consideration of what, exactly, to tell Scar, but rather how to explain the rapid movements of his ever-present frustrations. Scar is patient, as always, watching him with an encouraging smile bordering on devious. A smile that’s gotten him into plenty of trouble over the years. Vex traits, how wonderful.

“It’s something to do with our birdie, isn’t it?” The man urges, still kind. “Your hand keeps tightening on his arm. What’s going on in that pretty head, Jumbo?”

“Void,” is their knee-jerk reaction, an amused smile playing on their lips.

“Right, yes, of course. Took dad’s name, totally forgot!” Scar teases, fully aware that the usage of their old surname didn’t truly bother them. Only from him, truly, more of a nickname than a reminder of their past. Maybe Grian too, but the avian hardly uses it.

Mumbo sighs. “I don’t know how to explain, Scar,” he mutters, finally looping back around to the initial question. “Something’s… nagging at me, I suppose, but I’m not sure what to do about it or how to fix it,” he admits, his hand gently squeezing Grian’s arm. He’s not entirely sure why he feels so protective of the smaller, but it likely has something to do with the targeting from Exor. It unnerves him, truly.

“But it is about the G-man?” Scar questions, clocking his avoidance of that second question. Mumbo can only nod, staring despairingly at the bandage wrapped around Grian’s left wing. It wasn’t even the wound itself upsetting him anymore, Grian could hold his own with a few missing feathers. It was the implication.

Exor was targeting Grian, they all know that by now. Exor has gotten close enough for Grian to feel their breath on his neck multiple times, but the worst they’ve done to him is a scratch on the face and ripping out some feathers. Bad enough, sure, but it’s clearly the very least that the Dog is capable of. Either they were playing with him– because they’d injured other Outsiders much worse in what seemed like no more than self-defense– or they were… hesitating. But why would they hesitate? Mumbo, unlike the rest of their group, had seen firsthand the training of STARR Labs’ “Dogs,” the assassins weren’t meant to be capable of hesitating. And yet…

They weren’t meant to play with their food either. They were trained to hunt their prey, get rid of them, and report back when the task was done. That’s all they did. Go out, hunt, succeed, return. So why?

Plus, the reaction to the feathers they pulled was beyond odd. They stared, they stopped in their tracks and stood there and they stared at the feathers in their hand. Acho punched them and they stayed down, and as previously established by multiple encounters it took a lot more than a punch to keep them on the ground! Screw Fae strength– pardon his language, no offense to Acho– they were far too resilient to just sit there and watch the Outsiders run from a single punch! It was driving him crazy!

“Mumbo, my friend,” Scar pulls them from their frustrations once again. “Relax, buddy! We’re gonna catch this Exor fella, and we’re gonna get some answers. We just gotta be patient, we’ve got a plan and it’s gonna work!” The Vex declares confidently.

“I wish I had your faith in this, Scar,” Mumbo laments, a wry grin twitching under his mustache despite himself. Though, he supposes the man has enough confidence for both of them. Heck, Scar has enough belief in the plans and strategies for the whole of the Outsiders and then some. It’d kept the group going through a lot. Mumbo would always be so grateful that fate graced him with such a man.

Their thoughts are once again interrupted, this time by a certain Sunbird beginning to twitch and mumble disgruntledly in his sleep. Mumbo huffs, a fond smile under his mustache, as they and Scar wordlessly agree to leave this for later. Exor could be anywhere by now, and they can’t risk being found. Besides…

They should sleep. He can worry later.

---

Owen packs away his things in the light of morning, the soft grass swaying with the wind. He folds up the first aid kit he carries, packing it into his bag while his feathered ears twitch idly, only half-listening to his friends talk at his side.

“Maybe it’s his scent?” She hears Apo wonder. “I’m fairly sure Mumbo’s mentioned before that their elites track by scent…”

“Track what?” Owen questions, finally giving his two fellow survivors his full attention. “What’re we talking about again? Exor?”

“Mhm,” Acho hums an affirmative. “To be more precise, we’re wondering about their targeting of Grian. We’ve briefly dis– click-whistle!– discussed it as a group, but mostly just to complain.”

Apo nods along, his tail dragging languidly through the soft grass. “Yeah, and I was just wondering if it might be because of Grian’s scent. Maybe whoever at STARR gave Exor their mission had something of Grian’s to track by? None of them took everything they owned from the camp, after all.”

Owen hums with a thoughtful frown, expression twisted. It would make decent sense, STARR’s elites are referred to as dogs for a reason. It’d certainly be a more comforting conclusion than…

“Seems to me they’ve identified you as our leader. Perhaps they think you’re stronger than us so they wanna take you out first– I’d take it as a compliment!”

Void, why did it bother her so much? She's been out of it since she overheard that conversation, every thought circling back to that sentence. Grian’s place in this group. Owen’s place in this group… Grian’s been their leader since they started working together! He was Captain way longer than Owen was pseudo-leader of the Maze! Grian was a Captain before they even met, it shouldn’t be an issue. It isn’t an issue.

“I’m not only considering, Owen, I’m set on this. I agree with Grian…”

That… never happened before. She’s not opposed to being disagreed with, she’s not a damn dictator, but Acho and Apo have been behind her with everything after the Maze. Grian was the Captain, sure, but Owen’s brothers always seemed to naturally move with her. She was sure that they would be on her side instead of turning to a new leader, but now…

“..He’s not wrong.”

Now, he can’t lead at all. Grian really is their leader. Stronger, smarter, the one the bad guys target. That… Why does that hurt? Sure, Owen was a leader for a while and got comfortable with it, but he never actually wanted to be a leader… It just.. happened like that. He took the role of a leader and shaped himself like one, but forget the leadership! That's not all he can do! He can.. map…

No, mapping was a Maze job.. So was the running, and the tracking… everything they’re good at are things they needed to do in the maze. They’re… They’re good at fighting? Except…

Crack! “Oh shoot ow-” “Owen-!”

Hah, no, he can still fight! So what if he’s gotten thrown around, he’s just getting caught off guard! He’ll be ready this time, and he’ll have Jimmy by his side. It’s a solid plan.

One that Grian came up with, but whatever. A good plan is a good plan, regardless of who made it. It doesn’t matter that it’s Grian. Grian, who doesn’t usually seem to care about any of the Maze survivors. Grian, who always makes sure that everyone is comforted except for the Maze survivors. Grian who–

It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t.

“Owen?” She jerks her head back towards his brothers, who are looking at her with eyes full of curiosity and worry. Not getting an answer back, Acho continues, “You spaced out for a bit, is everything alright?”

“Yeah, what were you thinking about so hard? I called your name like.. four times.” Apo says, tilting his head and watching Owen’s face carefully, searching for a slip up or any hint of what she’s actually feeling at the moment. The look alone makes Owen nervous.

What can he even say to them? Everything is fine! Well, as fine as it can be, after you’ve escaped deadly trials that took the lives of many of your friends, spent months on a run with people you don’t know, and now have no idea what to do with your life! No, everything is perfect! And it’s not like they were making it worse, right? Right?!

“Agh, It’s nothing, I.. I’m just nervous because of the plan, I guess. You don’t have to worry, let’s just go, I think Capta... I think Grian’s already waiting for us,” he says, standing abruptly and speeding towards the trio nearby.

Acho and Apo stay there for a long minute, sitting on the grass and watching the retreating back of their leader in potent concern. Their eyes meet, conveying their shared worry but unwilling to speak it just yet, before they slowly stand up and follow their sibling.

~

“Void… I miss my wife, Jim,” Joel groans dramatically for the fifth time in the last two hours, splayed on his back in the grass while his companions pack away their things.

Jimmy rolls his eyes, though a smile tugs at his lips. “You say it every day, and every day I literally cannot help you, buddy. Your wife is my sister for Dragon’s sake, I miss her too. It’s hard not having her by my side, after growing up together for so many years.”

“Oh, like you don’t complain about wanting your husband every other hour,” Joel teases right back, his grin full of sharp teeth. For a Red Panda hybrid, the guy had some freakishly pointy features. Also weirdly allergic to emotional vulnerability, but that’s a Joel thing…

“Oh you hush it!” Jimmy squawks, smacking his brother-in-law with his wing. “I don’t talk about Tango nearly as much as you talk about Lizzie! But I guess the same logic applies here. How many years have you two been married now? Seven?” 

“Eight and a half, actually! How dare you not to know that, that’s your sister!” Joel responds with a mocking gasp, causing Martyn to snicker in the background while Jimmy arches his eyebrows.

“How long have me and Tango been together?” He asks with a rare poker face, calling out his brother-in-law; but Joel just whistles, slowly turning his head towards the other direction and ignoring said call out.

“Don’t care about that silly husband of yours, the only numbers I need, I know, and it’s because they are about my beautiful wife!”

“Man, you two are really passionate about your spouses,” Martyn muses, leaning casually on a rock. By this point, he has been sitting suspiciously quiet. “I should get a move-on with this marriage thing, it sounds great.”

Joel snorts. “Gotta get a partner for that, Martyn. And unless you and Ren are somehow back on that whole.. on-again-off-again thing of yours… I don’t think you’re getting married anytime soon, fella.”

Martyn sits up a bit straighter, giving the two a strange look. “Wha… Ren was always platonic, dude, we’re just theatre kids. Mumbo and I have been openly dating for months. You know? Almost the whole time we have been on this run together?” He seems to ask it more than say it, voice full of confusion. Jimmy and Joel both go rigid, heads snapping to Martyn in perfect synchronicity so fast the Siren swears he hears a pop.

“Wait, that was REAL?!” Joel demands incredulously. “I thought that was a bit! We all thought you two were joking!”

Martyn sputters indignantly, bordering on a giggle. “Dude, I sit in his lap on a regular basis! I swear we’ve kissed several times! In front of you! It wasn’t exactly a secret!”

“How in Notch’s good Overworld did I miss this??” Jimmy wheezes hysterically, fingers to his temples as if in a crisis. “We grew up together! How the hell did I not know you were dating someone?!”

“I don’t know dude!” Martyn insists, openly laughing now. “I guess you just overlooked it, we weren’t making an effort to hide it. Neither of us mind if you lot know, we just.. didn’t outright tell you. Also, I’m not dating just someone ,” he says mockingly. “I’m dating Mumbo freakin’ Void.”

“There’s no way you haven’t been hiding it even a little!” Joel counters, fur fluffed in confusion. “There’s no way you weren’t messing with us! We would’ve noticed, I know it! Oh, what in the Void-”

“Well Mumbo’s ace, so not me,” Martyn quips with a sly grin, immediately snickering at the scrunched noses of his friends.

“Oh my god, the Void jokes…” Jimmy grumbles despairingly, face fully buried in his hands. “That should’ve tipped us off immediately… Only you would make surname jokes with a romantic partner, you did it with Ren… Oh Gods, I’m so stupid…”

“Again, Ren was platonic, buuuut… yeah, you’re not wrong,” Martyn admits with a shrug. “Like I said, we weren’t hiding it. Although… I suppose not just telling you all was our way of messing with you,” he tacks on with an unapologetic chuckle.

“Called it!” Joel declares, pointing rather aggressively at the Siren. “And I want in! If we’re all gonna be stupid I wanna mess with the rest of the idiots too!”

“Listen mate, I’m down for the polyamory, but don’t you think you have to talk about it with your wife first?” Martyn hedges, grinning smugly and cackling at Joel’s subsequent sputters. “Kidding, kidding! You two can totally help us mess with them if you want. Sounds like fun. I just can’t believe that all of you are actually that blind.. I mean I can excuse the Maze trio since they don’t know us that well, but I wonder if Grian and Scar know; they are supposed to be Mumbo’s platonic soulmates after all,” Martyn mumbles, looking towards the direction of the mentioned trio. 

“I wouldn’t call us blind…” Jimmy weakly tries to defend himself, only to receive solemn shoulder pats from Joel, signaling him to drop it. No use, they’ve already lost this.

“I can admit my defeat. You had me fooled, Martyn Woods, but I’m not gonna be so easily tricked by you anymore. Two can play this game!” Joel announces, rather dramatically.

“First of all, three can play, because Mumbo kinda counts as being in “this game.” Second of all.. How are you planning to play this exactly?” Martyn and Joel’s eyes meet, a determined and familiar rivalry sparkling in between them, promising a very interesting few days. Jimmy groans in the background, knowing full well that he will get caught in the crossfire. 

“Let’s… Let’s just move, I think the others are done,” Jimmy says, walking in between the pair to break off their fiery eye contact. “Come on, keep up!” He yells back at them, while speeding up towards the group that has gathered to leave.

Martyn and Joel lock eyes once again for a second before they move at the same time, sprinting ahead of Jimmy and hoping to get to the group first, laughing at the following groan from the put-upon Canary.

Notes:

Banter and friendship HOORAY! Gotta remember that at the end of the day, these guys are a group of (mostly) friends, they should be silly and worry for each other from time to time :]
Also yes, reminding everybody that Ahasbands is real, they are great to me and I shall (lovingly) take no complaints pls and thanks <3 -Jinx

Hi chat! :D -Ann (star wanted to say hi)

Glitchy Text Translations:
"PEARL GO BACK!"
"PEARL HE'S STILL THERE PLEASE-"
"I SEE HIM PEARL GO BACK!"

Chapter 6: We live and die my friend

Notes:

Chapter TW/CW: injury, mild description of injury, fantasy fight scene, concussions

Chapter title is from "Vulture Culture" by Fangclub

It’s not very often that Jimmy feels a need to run for his life like this.

He’ll have a good fly, he likes to glide off of cliffs and soar over the island. The Evo Isles are beautiful, and there’s always new things being built.

Now there’s no building. There’s no blue sky, no gentle waves on the shore, no gorgeous structures reflecting the personalities of the Isles’ residents.

Now the sky is dark, no sun in sight. The waves are crashing violently on the sand of the beach, buildings are crumbling as if they’re made of paper. Jimmy could swear on his life that reality itself is falling apart. It sure feels like it.

“Get a bloody move-on!” He hears Joel shout, voice frantic and angry. “Lizzie and Joey are on the ship, Jim, move!”

Jimmy can hardly see past the tears in his eyes, but he runs anyway, following the blurry form of his brother-in-law. His ears are ringing, the explosions around the island only making it worse. Gods, Martyn’s hearing had to be torturing him.

“W-where’s Martyn?” He gasps, immediately coughing up the salty iron taste in his throat from running for so long. “He- cough- h-he got away, right-?”

“He got far away from here, Jim, he’s fine!” Joel insists. He growls, agitated, and snatches Jimmy’s hand to half-drag him toward the shore. “Worry about yourself for once, bloody Nether– he’s a Void-forsaken Siren, he swam away!”

Jimmy coughs again and continues to run, satisfied for now. He’s still worried, but Martyn is an excellent swimmer. If Joel saw him in the water, he’s fine. He has to be.

“Jimmy!” He faintly hears an oh-so familiar shout from up ahead. Lizzie! “Joel! Come on you two, hurry, we gotta go!”

They finally reach the beach, struggling through the wet sand to reach the small boat. He sees the tall form of Joey at the wheel, ready to high-tail it out of this place the moment everyone’s on board.

Jimmy scrambles up the ladder with Joel in tow, dragged up by his sister’s hand and tossed unceremoniously onto the deck. He grunts, stumbling to his feet and watching Joel get the same thrown treatment, before his sister is shouting at Joey to get them the HELL out of here!

The boat kicks off the shore with a jerk and a groan from the planks, the erratic winds and violent waves propelling them away quicker than usual. Jimmy grabs onto the railing with an iron grip, knuckles white as he stares at his collapsing home.

He hears people screaming. He sees people running, tripping over themselves, falling into sudden ravines and stumbling when the Overworld shakes. 

Then he sees Pearl and Grian.

He sees Pearl dragging her brother along by the arm, the Sunbird clearly screaming about something, but he can’t hear them at this distance.

The slightest bit of tension leaves him when the two board their own small escape boat, but it courses right back through him when he doesn’t see B with them.

Then the things from the sky look to the siblings in perfect unison, their too many eyes locked onto the retreating vessel.

Grian screams. Pearl screams. Jimmy hears himself scream.

His friend vanishes, and the creatures vanish with him. The isles go still. Their home holds its breath.

He doesn’t see his friend again for many, many years.

 

“You look nervous,” Owen remarks, the Sparrow’s voice jerking Jimmy from his memories. Her eyes feel piercing, with an undercurrent of concern, staring at him from his right as they walk. The two of them are alone at the moment, strolling casually through the snowy taiga. Seriously, how big is this stupid biome? Nothing but spruce for days now!

“I am nervous,” Jimmy admits, wings fluttering anxiously. Gosh, he really hates remembering the Evo purge. Why did his anxiety always choose that memory to bring up in these situations? “This is the scariest thing we’ve attempted in… a while. At least before, we had the comfort of knowing our pursuers were incompetent, but this time…”

Owen hums their acknowledgement, mismatched eyes moving to look ahead. “I s’pose you’re right,” he mutters, shoulders just tense enough to be visible. “This.. Exor fella is a lot more threatening than those spies we used to get. Ahh, good times…”

Jimmy gives a strained chuckle, the small wings behind his ears flapping. “I wouldn’t exactly call that good times, just… less scary times. I guess.”

Owen just huffs, amused, his left wing giving a small flap of its own. Strangely, his right wing remains still. “Less scary is good nowadays, Tek. Take what we can get, y’know?”

Jimmy hums, feeling his heart do a little flutter at the indirect reminder of his husband. He insisted that Owen didn’t need to use their surnames so often– acquaintances or not, they were at least on a first name basis– but hearing the name he shared with his love always made him feel warm inside regardless. It was a nice reminder of what he was fighting for.

“I guess you’re right on that front,” Jimmy concedes with a nervous smile and a shrug. “Things were a lot better before Exor, but at least now we’re hopefully making progress toward getting home. Instead of.. well… running for our lives and nothing else.”

Owen snorts, nudging Jimmy’s shoulder with his left wing. His right remains stiff and unmoving. “Hey, what else were we supposed to do? We had no reason to believe those idiots from before would know anything about STARR. Exor might."

Jimmy grins cheekily, mouth opening to continue the banter, when the faint crunch of snow sounds behind them. The two avians whip around, tense, and come face-to-face with exactly who they’ve been waiting for. Exor.

The demonic assassin has clearly learned their lesson from the last trap. They’re standing still, staring at the two of them with their head tilted curiously. Grian had described it as a mocking feeling, but all Jimmy saw was caution and healthy wariness. Huh.

The Canary takes the standstill as an opportunity to get a good, full look at the guy that’s been chasing them. The horn-like masses poking out from their hood are actually forward-facing black antlers, with juts off of it like tree branches. Some of said “branches” end.. quite abruptly, as if snapped off. Ouch. 

Dude’s got claws, obviously, but man those suckers are pointy. They look sharp as needles, even from a distance, no wonder even little scratches have been doing so much damage. The hood covers their hair and obscures any other head-centric features, and the goggles block their eyes, but the corner of their mouth is tilted down slightly in visible suspicion. They’re pale, almost to a sickly degree, no color to their cheeks despite the frigid cold. 

Most of the rest of their form is covered in generic STARR branded tactical gear, long sleeves, collar and combat boots included, all black. They’ve got a utility belt of some sort, a few visible weapons, an unnatural thickness at their torso– at odds with their rather lithe muscle– indicating some form of protective shielding. Crossbow-proof vest, maybe? Those are heavy though, so maybe not…

He’s torn from his observation when Exor finally begins to move, stalking forward with a growl in their throat. Both avians tense, ready for a fight, but Jimmy is still overthinking a bit. Why is this guy so.. feral? It’s not a species thing– not even Demons are naturally hostile, Apo said so and Apo is also a Demon so he’s inclined to believe them– and he’d expected an assassin of this kind of skill to be a lot more level-headed.

Instead, they made noises like an animal, snarling and hissing when caught in that net the other day. They used their claws instead of weapons, hunted by scent, even their stride was more animal than humanoid. It was disconcerting. And for a second he wondered: would their plan even work? Does Exor know what they want to know? If they act like an animal now, how do they act normally? They have heard them talk before, once, but it sounded.. weird. Layered, in a way.

He hears Owen grunt, then sees her shift her feet and watches her left wing flutter in preparation. The visual cues are all the warning he gets– all the warning he needs – before the Sparrow is lunging forward with her claws viciously bared.

Jimmy follows in less than a second, feet dragging through the snow as he and Owen attack from both sides. He’s all too aware of some Outsiders dropping down from trees: Grian is ready to jump in if needed, Joel is braced to catch him, Apo is giving her rapt attention to Owen, and Martyn stands ready with rope. They just need to get Exor on the ground for a few seconds.

Exor reacts to the fight with equal viciousness, hissing and swiping at them with their claws. Just as Jimmy remembered, it was the complete opposite of cold calculation. The growling, the almost frantic hits and scratches, it was abnormal. They got plenty of hits in, forcing Jimmy and Owen to jump away several times and regain their bearings before lunging forward again. However, the avians got some solid hits in as well; mostly punches, but at some point Owen delivers a deep scratch to their arm that cuts through their sleeve and–

Oh Void–

As soon as a single drop of black blood touches the snow below, Exor snarls– but instead of the feral nature of their attacks getting worse in their rage, something seems to snap into place and they’re suddenly a lot quieter. Deadlier.

Abruptly, Jimmy realizes that Exor acting like an animal is what was keeping the Outsiders alive. That the frantic attacks and angry growling were products of Exor not thinking at their best. Unpredictability is predictable. Unconsciously, they’d been relying on that to get away every time.

Jimmy can tell that this fight is going to get a lot harder very soon. He gives a hefty flap of his wings and takes to the air, expecting Owen to follow and regroup with him because that was the plan but–

Owen clearly tries. Instinctively, her wings try to spread and flap, but her right wing doesn’t move past the initial twitch. Then it spasms, and Owen yelps but it’s more of a scream, and she stumbles backward and Exor has her on the ground and their claws are around her neck and oh Gods– 

Apo bolts forward, clearly about to tackle the Dog off her friend, and it half works. Exor straightens up on their knees and their hand leaves Owen’s throat, but it happens before Apo’s feet have the chance to leave the ground. She doesn’t have time to slide to a stop, though, and Exor grabs her by the hair and sends her flying. Void, that had to have hurt.

Jimmy can’t make himself fall from the sky to join the fight, watching in silent terror as his friends are thrown around. Exor tosses them into trees, cuts into skin and scales and wings with their claws, bringing them all to the ground with brutal efficiency.

They’re not targeting Grian anymore, Jimmy realizes, a bit hysterical. They’re pissed and it’s making them more logical. They’re not holding back. They were holding back before.

Jimmy finally forces himself from the sky when even Mumbo’s crystal doesn’t stun them for more than a second, bringing his sword down on their back. Trying to, at least. Exor whips around faster than anyone should be capable of, catching the blade with a single hand despite the way it slices into their skin. Jimmy barely has time to squeak before Exor’s using his momentum to toss him aside, as if he weighs nothing to the Dog, as if they can’t be bothered to treat him as a threat. Because he’s not. None of them are a threat to this monster.

They should run. They need to run, they aren’t winning this, they can’t beat Exor, it’s too strong. Too fast, too efficient, too much for even their group of nine to beat. Exor isn’t an animal anymore, they are an assassin, and Jimmy is acutely aware that they are so much deadlier for it. Their plan was always doomed. It was a miscalculation on their part to actually believe it would work. They fucked up, and no they are paying the price for it.

Jimmy can see the others coming to the same conclusion. Even Martyn stumbles away instead of jumping back into the fight, grabbing Mumbo’s hand and practically dragging them away. Exor doesn’t let them get far, pouncing on Martyn’s back and pinning him to the ground, making Martyn shout again. Mumbo, even with their vision blurred by blood from a head wound, rams into them and tosses them off of the wheezing Siren. Exor rolls on the ground and jumps back to their feet immediately, boots digging into the ground and clearly going to pounce again, only intercepted by a tackle from a very angry Joel.

Jimmy uses the distraction to half-run half-stumble his way to the downed Owen, hissing when he sees Owen’s right wing. The primaries are twisted, feathers are pulled, and the arch of bone at the top is mangled. Gods, how long has her wing been broken? That isn’t an old wound!

Jimmy shakes away his horror for the time being, looping the Sparrow’s arm around his shoulders and walking her into the trees. He has to bear most of her weight– and thank the gods this woman is light– so he ends up mostly dragging her away from the fight.

He has to trust that the others can get away. They have ways of finding each other, and he needs to trust that they know when it’s necessary to run. He hates it, hates not seeing them safe with his own eyes, but they can’t risk retreating from this in a group. Exor is too strong for them, too fast, they’d just get into an endless loop of fighting until the Dog kills them all. Splitting up is the safest option, even if it feels awful. The Outsiders survived alone before. They weren’t a group of nine from the start, they’ll be okay.

Void, why is it so hard to believe that?

---

Scar, for a very long time, was not known for his ability to run.

Oh, he used to be real good at it! Before the experiments, he was an excellent runner! Jellie at his side, wind at his back, he could outrun plenty of monsters and enemies.

But then that Zombie got his legs. Then he had to sacrifice their easy use to keep the infection from spreading. To keep himself alive. He spent countless days building himself makeshift braces, using all the magic he dared waste to help them hold long enough to get out of there alive.

Then he met Mumbo. That brilliant engineer with that brilliant mustache, who built him the perfect pair of braces without even being prompted. Risking their life by lying to STARR’s higher-ups, saying they were building a weapon when they were working on legs for someone they hadn't even known very well by that point. They’d even worked with Scar’s crystals, embedding small ones in the joints to give the braces extra resilience, and helped him learn to move with them. Suddenly he could run again.

He’s always been grateful for that. However, he must admit, he’s a bit extra thankful now that he’s running for his life again. Jellie isn’t having a great time, and neither is Apo, as they run for the hills. He doesn’t even know if Exor’s still chasing them, but he does not want to risk looking back to find out! So he keeps a hold of Apo’s hand, the poor Demon looking so disoriented but running anyway, and they flee. 

It’s only when he feels his legs finally burn far too badly to ignore that he stumbles to a stop, sliding into a convenient cave and gasping for breath. Apo is much the same, coughing and gasping and clutching at his chest. Scar, wheezing, manages to make his shaking arms cooperate long enough to free Jellie from her container. She jumps into his lap immediately, and starts purring despite definitely being pissed about the run. She’s the best girl.

Apo is curled into himself on the ground, coughing, and Scar grunts in protest. “Don’t sit like that buddy, you’re makin’ it worse,” he urges, and wow he is hoarse, goodness.

Thankfully, the Demon listens, though it clearly hurts him. He unwinds from his position and stretches as much as he dares, claws bunching his shirt at his chest while he continues to gasp. Scar winces, but lets the Demon gather himself, focusing back on his own breathing.

Jellie helps, her grounding weight on his burning legs managing to keep him from outright panicking. He and Apo spend an indefinite amount of time calming from their panic, catching their breath, but not daring to relax. The moment Scar returns to somewhat normal levels of thought, he worries for the others. They’ve split up before, sure, but never in the heat of battle like that. It’s always a planned thing, a strategy discussed ahead of time, and they always decide on a place to reconvene. None of that is the case this time.

They’ve split up out of necessity, unplanned and abrupt. They have no way to communicate, no spot to meet, though there are certainly ways to find each other. He has no way of knowing if everyone even got away.

Exor… What happened? One second they’re a frantic obstacle, the next they’re a calculatedly deadly foe. Scar was still firmly of the opinion that they could be helped– he doesn’t give up that easy, Aether no– but the sudden shift in demeanor was jarring. Sure, Owen got ‘em in the shoulder, but they’d been hit before. A few times, in fact! That wasn’t the first time one of the Outsiders had hurt them, Martyn stabbed through their hand for goodness sake!

But what was it? Did managing to draw blood set them off this time? Surely it wasn’t that simple; they’d taken an End crystal to the face and got back up snarling in seconds, and once again, a blade through their hand also did the trick of drawing blood .

Maybe it was the scent of the blood? Their more feral side obviously functioned off of smell, considering their tunnel vision on Grian and their tracking, maybe the smell of blood snapped them into the assassin mindset? Maybe… but that also sounded too simple and wrong, considering it didn’t happen the first time, during which there was a lot more blood than a few drops from a scratch. Maybe the first wound just.. caught them off guard, and so they didn’t get to attack..

“Scar?” Apo croaks, leaning heavily on the wall of the cave. Scar straightens to attention, turning concerned eyes to the injured Demon. “Scar, what’re we gonna do..? What..”

“We’re gonna rest,” Scar instructs, careful not to raise his voice in case Apo’s concussed. “We’re gonna get our bearings, and we’re gonna wait.”

“But what.. W-what about the others? We can’t..” Apo groans, holding his head with one hand. Definitely some sort of head injury.

“Buddy, look at me?” Scar requests, managing to drag himself on the stone and come closer to the injured Demon. Jellie follows with nothing more than a disgruntled meow. Scar inspects Apo’s eyes, slumping in relief when he doesn’t find anything wrong with his pupils. One less point toward concussion, that’s good right? The slurring isn’t promising though…

“Where’s your head hurt?” He asks, carefully dragging his fingers through Apo’s deep red hair. He grimaces when he passes something wet, pulling away and– yep, that’s blood, oh Gods–

Apo groans again, muttering under his breath in what sounds like confusion. Another point toward concussion, oh Aether, this isn’t good. How do you treat a concussion again? He should remember this, dang it!

“Apo?” He urges again, keeping his voice low but firm. “Apo, I need you to try and keep with me buddy, you might be concussed.”

Scar is so unqualified for this it’s not even funny. They gotta find a village, fast, Apo needs actual treatment for his head and Scar’s med supplies are measly at best oh geez–

He runs through his mental map. They’ve been seeing nothing but spruce for a very long time, so they must be in a massive taiga. There aren’t any kingdoms or cities he can think of with taigas this big, but a biome this large has to have a village or two. Maybe if they wander a bit.. But should they risk that? If Apo’s concussed, aimlessly walking around will not help. What to do, what to do…

He could go out and search by himself, but then Apo would be sitting in a cave with a possible concussion alone and that’s not an option. If Exor finds him… bad things could happen. Really, really bad things, things he doesn't want to think about and won’t because he’s not leaving Apo alone. Not happening.

They don’t have a lot of options here… he could try and nurse Apo’s wound himself, but again, his supplies are fleeting. He doesn’t remember what to do for a concussion aside from limited activity and rest, he certainly doesn’t remember what therapies to use.

So as to not waste time, he slips off his bag and gets out what little medical supplies he has, wrapping Apo’s head as he thinks. It wouldn’t do to leave a bleeding head wound open. Apo doesn’t protest– he doesn’t do much of anything aside from mumble under his breath– so it’s no issue to clean the blood and wrap plenty of gauze around his head. The horns are a bit of a challenge to work around, but he manages well enough.

With a sigh, he sits next to Apo and continues his silent crisis. Can’t leave Apo alone, can’t stay… The best option is wandering. The best of horrible options is still horrible, but it’s all he can think of. Apo needs actual help, help that Scar can’t provide, and they need to figure out how they’re gonna find the rest of the Outsiders after that. It’d be best to do so from a village. They’d have actual shelter, defense, and Exor would be far less likely to attack them. It did seem they avoided villages, thank the Dragon, so they’d have a buffer of relative safety. Maybe the others will think the same.

It’s as good a plan as he’s gonna get, so he packs his supplies back up, lets Jellie perch on his shoulder, and lifts Apo off the stone ground. Then he leaves the cave, and they begin to wander, hoping to whatever Gods are still watching over them that they find safety soon.

Notes:

Sooo... Yeah, I split them up. Lol. Hey, gotta develop relationships somehow, don't I? :]
Hope y'all enjoyed, seeya next time!

Chapter 7: Who, who are you?

Notes:

Chapter TW/CW: Injury, description of injury, self-worth issues, discussions of trauma, concussion, **EMETOPHOBIA**

Chapter Title is from "Who Are You, Really?" by Mikky Ekko

!!ATTENTION!!
The small section with the Emetophobia warning is (hopefully obviously) separated by a line of asterisks (these things > *****) Careful reading, enjoy!

The Fae are.. interesting creatures. Too powerful to categorize as Elves, too magical for Vexes, too uncanny for Voidlings. They’re elusive– there exists very little credible information on them, and whatever seems credible is usually wrong. Fae are also, notoriously, very bad at making friends.

Granted, that’s only because they don’t usually want to. Fae aren’t exactly social. They’re tricksters first and foremost, and rather infamous for their tendency to keep humans as pets. They trap, they trick, and they hurt.

Acho is a Fae. Acho does not subscribe to any of these beliefs.

He spent a very long time defying the norms of his culture. He rather liked humans actually, as well as their associated hybrids. His favorite human, though, was a man named Kyle. His first friend.

Kyle was a confidant. He helped them when no one else was willing to, thanks to how obvious their species was at that time. When their wings were intact. Before the delicate membranes were ever in any danger. Nobody ever liked them, but Kyle? Kyle didn’t care.

That man fought for Acho. Held him through his meltdowns– Tourette’s was a right bastard, truly– and assured him that even his most mortifying of tics were more endearing than frightening. He never laughed, never scorned. He was always so gentle.

Then came STARR. Then came the Maze Trials, the pain and death that followed. More allies, then friends, but Kyle was always their favorite. But that’s the thing about defying your instincts. Refusing to be strong, refusing to trick, refusing to act as his ancestors would wish. They were a coward.

Kyle was no coward. And Kyle died for it.

Acho hadn’t realized the need for strength before that day. He’d done just fine before, but he’d had Kyle to protect him before. He doesn’t have Kyle anymore. Sure, he has more friends, friends like brothers that are just as willing to protect him. But he won’t let them pay the price for his weakness. He won’t let it happen again.

This knowledge is what drives him to fight, even now. It is also what drives him to run, because as much as he admonishes himself for cowardice these days, this is a… tactical retreat. Because no way in the Nether can they beat the beast that chases them now.

They have Martyn in a fireman’s carry, Grian sprinting beside them as they flee. Despite the new calculation Exor seems to possess, they’ve still defaulted to chasing Grian, which does not bode well for the trio. Martyn is unconscious, Grian is wheezing, and Acho feels themself tiring as well. Continuing to run like this will only make them easy pickings for Exor. They have to do something else, and fast.

Grian abruptly skids to a stop, turning around and growling deep in his throat. “Acho, get yourself and Martyn out of here,” he orders, angry enough that his Captain inflection starts creeping in. “They’re focused on me again, go!”

Acho does not enjoy being a coward. Acho is not a coward. But there is an unconscious Siren on his shoulders, and… Gods, Grian better know what he’s doing.

“You die, I’ll kill you,” Acho grunts, glaring for good measure. Then star turns back around and runs further into the forest, cursing under stars breath. That idiot better stay alive. He had better know what he’s doing.

~

Grian has no idea what he’s doing. He really only knows the why; Acho and Martyn need to get to safety, and Exor’s got a weird obsession with him. It’s not a plan– because no, Joel, punching your way through conflict is not a plan– but it’s the best he’s got.

Thankfully he sees Exor coming this time, and soon, they’re trading blows like that first fight from ages ago. It’s another flurry of claws, a punch here, a kick there– Exor lands a scratch, Grian lands a hit, Exor gets a kick on his side, Grian retaliates with a sweep of their legs. They fight like animals, rolling around in the snow and landing– frankly juvenile, really– blows to each other. Exor is back to that frantic, feral state, which Grian has now learned to be thankful for. It’s far less scary than whatever was happening earlier.

He is so out of care for his own dignity at this point that he takes an opportunity to clamp his teeth on Exor’s arm when it gets close enough. Exor snarls, wrenching their arm away– which, ow, that bloody hurt– and digging their claws into his shoulder. They throw him to the ground, and Grian barely manages to catch himself and roll away to dodge their following pounce.

There’s no time to celebrate that particular triumph, because they’re immediately lunging for his throat, only halted by Grian’s reflexive grab at their wrist. With a feral grin, he plants his talons in the snowy grass and tugs, tossing the Dog around and into a tree. Who’s the one getting thrown around now, huh?!

His success is, unsurprisingly, short lived. Exor is off the ground and hissing in a moment, too fast to react this time, and Grian is tackled to the snow in a painful heap. He gasps, clawing at the demon above him, but then their claws are in his wing again and he screams.

They don’t just take feathers this time. They plant their hand, pinning his left wing to ground, and because of the momentum of their landing they press. He chokes on a sob, bile rising in his throat when the sound of a bone snapping rings crystal clear in his ears. There’s white-hot agony shooting through his wing, down his spine, he swears he feels it in his talons oh Void.

Through his gasping, through his petrified flurry of pain, it takes him a rather long while to realize that Exor isn’t moving anymore. They’re hovering, still and silent, looming over Grian and staring at the spot where their hand meets his broken wing. Grian wheezes, both from his breathlessness and his suffering, blinking up at Exor through tear-blurred eyes.

Perhaps he’s loopy with the pain, because all his brain can manage to bring attention to is the shocked horror on their face.

---

As much as he hates it, Joel knows it is best to run in this situation. Mumbo seems to agree, if his sprinting is anything to go by. They’re both running like hell, not daring to stop until they’re certain they aren’t being chased by a bloodthirsty assassin. Even then, they can’t be confident of that fact, so they keep running.

It’s then that Joel sees the best possible thing ever in this situation. “Oh bloody Nether a village,” he wheezes, making the smallest of detours to lead himself and Mumbo to the gates. He slows to a jog, and then to a stop, right at the entrance of the village, collapsing onto the nearest wall to catch his breath. He sees Mumbo do the same, sliding down the same wall to sit on the ground and breathe, wiping blood off of his forehead. 

They don’t go any further for a while. Better to avoid upsetting the locals after all. Even Joel, as brash as he tends to prefer being, knows that there are certain ways you go about requesting shelter from villagers. You certainly don’t start by simply walking in and demanding it, he’s not a heathen.

He carefully scans the trees, the furry ears on his head swiveling forward to listen carefully for a particular pursuer. Thankfully, they either outran Exor, or it went after someone else. He shudders at the thought– Gods, the others better be okay. If one of those idiots died he’ll.. He’ll be pissed, is what he’ll be!

Joel groans and slides down to join Mumbo on the grass, cringing at the gross wetness. Snow melted recently, ugh. He sees the Vampire worrying– his focus on self-preservation can only last so long– so he distracts them in the only way he knows how.

“So, you ‘n Martyn, huh?” He muses, raising an eyebrow. He smirks at the answering sputter.

“Wh- you- why-?” Mumbo stutters, bewildered. “That’s– o-out of everything to talk about, you really-?”

“Yup,” Joel interrupts, unashamed. “We can go in and talk to some villagers in a bit, I wanna know about you getting with my friend.” He makes eye contact and grins with a few too many teeth, right on the verge of a glare. “The whole deal being a joke is one thing, but I hear it’s been legit this whole time. What’s that about?”

Mumbo shrugs helplessly, exasperated. “What do you want me to say here, Joel? Yeah, I’m dating Martyn, I like him a lot! We didn’t really hide it…”

Joel snickers, playfully punching their shoulder. They grunt. Oops. “I’m not threatening you man, don’t worry. I don’t dictate what Martyn does or who he likes. I really am just wondering how it happened, honest.”

Mumbo sighs, fidgeting with his sleeve. “I… Y’know, I’m not entirely sure? It really just feels like Martyn pulled me aside one day and asked if I wanted to be together. We both had feelings– I mean Gods, I was pining for months before we were even on the run– so we just.. decided to date. Give it a try, see how it went, y’know?”

Joel snorts, nodding easily. “Yeah, I do. That was kind of the deal with me ‘n Lizzie. Except- heh- she just got sick of me dancing around it and kissed me one day, declared us dating, and stole my communicator to put her number in. Still one of my favorite memories. That woman takes no nonsense.”

Mumbo chuckles lightly. “From what I hear, that is a very Lizzie thing to do. I hope I can meet her after… this whole mess. She sounds a bit scary honestly, but I’m sure she’s lovely.”

Joel nods sagely with a beaming grin. “Terrifying and the best woman you’ll ever meet, I assure you. My wife is awesome.” His smile softens, ears nearly flattening to his hair. “I’m still mad at myself for leaving my comm behind. I know it was ‘cause those blummin’ STARR bastards put trackers in ‘em, but that was the only way I could speak to her when I left to bring Jimmy home.”

Mumbo hums with a hesitant– yet understanding– nod. “..I know it’s not exactly the same, but… I feel the same about my dads. STARR took my communicator before I even stepped foot in the labs, so I wouldn’t be distracted from my tasks. I haven’t seen or spoken to either of them since getting taken from the Hollows. I miss them.”

Joel gives a nod and hum of his own, frowning contemplatively. “Well we’re gonna get back. We’re gonna get what we need from Exor.. eventually– We’re gonna take down STARR, and we’re gonna go home.” He gives another decisive nod for good measure, arms crossed confidently.

Mumbo chuckles, relaxing just a bit. “Yeah. Yeah, we’re gonna get home. We will.” They then stand with a huff, stretching their limbs and looking into the village. “C’mon. Let’s talk to some locals, figure stuff out, see if there’s somewhere we can stay.”

Joel follows to his feet with a grunt, shaking water from his tail. “Right! Let’s go then!” He declares, making his way into the village with Mumbo right behind him. He spots a friendly-looking man in green robes, and sets to work acquainting himself with the locals. This.. could take a while.

---

Relief almost brings Jimmy to his knees when he spots a river between the trees. He stumbles forward, Owen’s arm still hooked around his shoulders, and carefully lowers his companion to the grass right in front of the flowing water. He joins her in an instant, dipping his hand in the water and sighing. A bit cold, but it’ll do. Can’t expect a taiga river to be at a pleasant temperature.

He glances at Owen with open concern. They haven’t moved since being sat on the grass, but they’re tense, ready to bolt at a moment’s notice. Naturally, his eyes are drawn to their right wing. Void… 

“How in the Overworld have you been walking around with that for so long?” Jimmy whispers, horrified by the state of the wing. The feathers, the bone, the scream earlier… “And don’t.. Don’t try to tell me it hasn’t been that long. It happened at the first fight, didn’t it? When Exor threw you into a tree?”

Owen doesn’t respond for a bit. Jimmy has just enough time to start panicking– oh gods, is he unconscious– before the Sparrow gives a jerky nod. Jimmy sighs, before straightening and shouldering off his bag. “Well we can’t have it continue like that. You need a splint.”

Owen flinches with a protesting chirp, shaking his head frantically. “Y-you don’t– I don’t– no–” he stutters. His right eye flares a brighter orange, and he trills in distress, slapping his hand over the glow and turning away.

Jimmy chirps, scolding, pulling his med kit from his bag. If nothing else, he’s grateful Owen managed to end up with him. He’s got the most medical supplies, and that wing needs a splint and a preen ASAP. “Your wing is broken, Owen. You will not fly again if it doesn’t heal correctly.” 

Owen trills again, and it sounds like a whine. Jimmy softens, just a bit, when he notes their trembling. “Owen. I know we’re not.. We’re not friends. Not really, I know that, and wings are sacred I get it. Trust me I get it. I do. But you’ve got a badly broken bone in your wing, and it needs fixing, or you will never fly again. That’s a fate much worse than letting a healer fix it, wouldn’t you agree..?”

Owen goes quiet, glancing warily at him with her uncovered eye. Her hand lowers from her face, then she squeezes both eyes shut, giving one firm nod and going perfectly still. Jimmy takes a breath, then he gets to work.

He moves to Owen’s right side, letting chirps and trills and all manner of noises flow freely from his throat. He gives soothing whistles when they flinch, warning tweets before taking gentle hold of their injured wing, and careful twitters when he realigns the bone.

Owen shrieks when the wing is reset, and Jimmy trills easily, wrapping the splint and securing it expertly. He chirps again, thanking her, telling her she did very well, that it’s over. He continues to chirp as he sets to work straightening her feathers, using his claws to pick dirt and bugs from her wing. Owen shudders and, tentatively, chirps back gratefully.

Jimmy uses the river water to properly clean her feathers, spending what feels like hours preening the wing. On instinct, he moves and does the same to the left. Owen doesn’t protest, instead slowly melting under the ministrations and trilling happily when larger chunks of sediment are plucked from his feathers.

Jimmy occasionally looks up at Owen’s face, checking for discomfort, and is.. concerned, when he finds them looking sad. Almost nostalgic, eyes wet with turmoil. Jimmy doesn’t pause, but he does speak. “You okay?” He asks, careful. He wouldn’t dare push for a response.

Owen hesitates, taking a shaky breath, then nods. “Mm. Y-yeah, I’m.. alright. It’s just- heh- y’know, I haven’t been.. cared for like this in.. a while. Not by another avian, w-with the noises ‘n everything, yeah? I-I mean the guys– A-Apo and Acho, they do great! They take good care of my wings, they know what they’re doing, but they’re not…”

Jimmy hums, his heart breaking at the hesitant stuttering. Had Owen ever opened up to any of them like this before? “..They’re not avians,” he mutters. “It’s a language, and they don’t speak it, is that it?”

Owen nods, sniffling and laughing wetly. “I just.. I hadn’t realized how much I missed it ‘till now, ‘s all… Sorry.”

Jimmy chirps, both to scold and soothe. “Don’t be. I get it, I’m kinda similar. Joel preens me most nights, but every now and again Grian and I will have some time to ourselves to preen each other. Sometimes it’s what we need, y’know?” He hesitates, then, unsure if he should suggest this. “..You could join us, if you wanted. We don’t do it often, but.. If you were up for it, we could have a preening circle. I can, er.. mention it to Grian. He wouldn’t mind.”

There’s another pause, silence, while Jimmy picks off a loose feather. He twists another into place, then Owen shyly mutters, “I’d like that…”

Jimmy smiles, relieved, and nods. “Okay, then. When we find the others, I’ll talk to him about it. We’ll figure it out then.”

Owen gives a small nod, and doesn’t speak again. The rest of the preening is a comfortably silent affair, with the occasional trill and chirp from either avian. It’s nice, but it makes Jimmy wonder how Owen could have taken it before. Not having another avian around to hear their beautiful chirps, someone to call out to the instincts buried deep down in each of them. He wonders how he would feel if Grian wasn’t around. It was probably so.. lonely. No matter how many people you have around, when there’s no one who can call out to your Soul like that? It must be so lonely. And Owen was right there for a whole year. He and Grian preened their wings together just a few days ago, but they didn’t even think about inviting Owen. Part of him reminds him that it’s because preening tends to be familial, and there has been a.. great distance between them, but seeing how easily Owen agreed to it right now… Gods, they should have asked a long time ago.

When Jimmy is done, he hums in approval, carefully finding a comfortable resting position for the broken right wing before packing away his supplies again. “There we are,” he mutters, finally moving to his original position at Owen’s left. “Feels better, yeah?”

Owen nods, tentative but smiling. He rolls his shoulders and grunts, shaking the excess water from his left wing. “Thank you, Jimmy,” he whispers. “You, er.. didn’t have to do that.”

“Like hell I didn’t!” Jimmy insists. “I mean for one, I’m the team healer, it’s kind of my job. But second, friend or no, I care about you Owen! Even if I wasn’t a healer, I’m not gonna leave you to deal with a messed up wing on your own! That’d be barbaric!”

He quiets again, not quite willing to break the atmosphere like this, but.. well, it is his job. “Owen.. is there a reason you hid this? Wing injuries are serious, and hiding a break like this isn’t.. logical. It’s reckless, even for you.”

Owen winces, making an aborted motion to conceal himself with his good wing. He heaves a sigh, instead bringing his knees to his chin and tucking himself into a ball. “It never.. mattered, before,” he mutters. “In the.. I-in the Maze, I.. sprained it. Same wing. It wasn’t unfixable, but it hurt like mad, and I made it known. I wasn’t one for keeping quiet in there, I was angry and made sure they knew it.”

She pauses again, hesitating. Jimmy almost feels like bracing himself– none of the Trials survivors had talked this extensively about the Maze before. “I was next for a Trial, and I told the Organizer about my wing. I told him I couldn’t go into the Maze with an injury like that, it hurt too bad and I can’t run properly with that kind of pain. It gets jostled too easily. He didn’t care.”

Their face twists angrily, glaring at the river as if envisioning the Organizer’s face in its current. “He said my wings were an advantage anyway, and being on the others’ level for a while would be good for me. Teach me some manners,” they snarl. “Didn’t give me anything for it. My only saving grace was that Graecie had worked with birds before the Trials. She helped with my wing, fixed the sprain and helped with exercises. It’s the only reason I’ve still got full use of the thing.”

Jimmy feels his heart ache at the rageful anguish in Owen’s voice. He’s almost tempted to ask who Graecie is, but restrains himself. She wasn’t with the three that made it out. That says enough.

“That’s not right,” he says instead, his full attention on the angry Sparrow. “That’s not fair. And I am so sorry that happened to you, Owen.”

Owen looks at him in startled awe, as if shocked by his conviction. The expression only makes him double down. “I am never going to do that to you, alright? I will always take your pain seriously. You come to me with so much as a paper cut, and I will make sure it closes up neatly. I will never turn you away for your pain, understand?”

Suddenly, there are tears in Owen’s eyes, and her jaw is trembling. Her shoulders tense, and she seems to choke back a sob. She quickly turns away, slightly embarrassed, whispering an “Okay” and avoiding eye contact. She doesn’t comment further. Doesn’t mention how she and the others are very obviously excluded from the group. Doesn’t say that they never seemed to care about them before. Now that Jimmy said this.. Maybe it was a promise. Maybe it would be better now, and saying all of that.. he would ruin all their chances.

With Owen going quiet, it seems that the conversation about this was over. Fair enough. Jimmy didn’t want to pressure her into talking more.

Slowly, unsure if the action will be received well but desperately hoping it is, Jimmy leans over and rests his head on their shoulder. Wordlessly– though their breath hitches– they let their face rest in Jimmy’s hair with a muttered “Thanks.”

Jimmy just hums. This is a nice start. This is plenty.

---

Scar is getting increasingly concerned for Apo’s well-being.

He’s been wandering the forest for a while now– thankfully no more than an hour, but also long enough for Apo’s face markings to shift to black, indicating her pronoun change– with Jellie on his shoulders and the Demon on his back. It’s not actively snowing, thank the Void, but it’s still way too cold for comfort. Even Jellie is shivering!

Apo hasn’t said much aside from nonsensical ramblings since they left the cave, each one only further convincing Scar of her concussion. Occasionally, he picks up on things– mostly names, some spoken fondly and others with startling hatred– but most of it makes little to no sense. Every slurred word only worries him more.

“Y’know this happened in the Maze too,” she groggily muses. Then she giggles. Oh boy. “Owen had to carry me back to’ th’ clearin’.. Which is.. heh.. which’s funny, ‘cause he stabbed me before that.. dumb spear hurt like a.. like.. eheh…"

Well that’s alarming! “Uhh buddy, whatcha mean Owen stabbed you?” Maybe it’s not recommended to fish for information from a concussed individual, but that entire sentence is threatening to shift his worldview entirely and he needs context for goodness sake!

“Noooo nonono,” Apo protests, weakly waving her arm around. “Wasn’t reeeaaally Owen, was.. uhh.. the other guy, yeah… real piece o’ work, that fella…”

Somehow even more alarming! “Other.. guy..?” Scar hesitantly clarifies. “What’s that mean, Apo? What other guy?”

“Mmmmhhmm…” the Demon hums, as if that’s helpful at all. “Other guy. The, uh.. Owen calls ‘im.. eehhh… Gennn.. General! We call ‘im the General, real tough guy type, y’know? You don’ gotta worry, though, Owen’s got ‘im under control, ‘sss fine…”

Wow. Okay, he’s gonna need a minute to process that, alright. How does– what. What? What in the world does any of that mean?!

“The.. General, huh?” He asks in a bit of a daze, a bit too breathy and a tad too high-pitched. “And.. he stabbed you..? With Owen?” 

“Nooo silly, not with Owen, how would ‘e ‘ve stabbed me with Owen? It was a spear, remember? Real big one, heh.. Went riiight through m’ chest, shouldn’t.. shouldn’t be.. alive, y’know..?” Scar doesn’t even have time to catastrophize over that before she’s giggling. “Imagine.. hehe.. Imagine Owen goin’ in m’ chest.. That’d be funny…”

It is only the conviction of getting Apo to a village Cleric that keeps Scar from stopping out of pure, horrified shock. Barely any of that made sense. How did.. what.. Huh?!

“Annnyway,” Apo slurs, apparently not done, how is she not done?! “Owen woke up real quick ‘n carried me back, juuus’ like this.. Soup was sooo mad, hehe… Bu’ not at Owen! ‘Cause.. ‘Cause everybody knew ‘bout th’ General, ‘n knew it wasn’t.. wasn’t Owen’s fault…” What in the world- “Nahh, Soup was jus’ mad ‘cause.. General did it.. but she fixed me riiight up, s’ no biggie…”

Scar hums under his breath, trying to understand this whole pretty much one-sided conversation. Apo’s rant gave him even more questions than he had before, and he didn’t exactly know if he could ask any of them– he was already feeling slightly guilty using Apo’s current state and getting information that she didn’t want to share. And from what he heard just now, he could understand why she didn’t want to share it. But still–

“Can you… tell me who the General is? Where did he come from?” He hesitantly inquires. 

“I don’ think tha’s a good idea.. I don’.. don’ think Owen would be happy about this,” Apo mumbles, as if just now realizing that she’s said far too much. “Maybe in the future..? Yeah, you jus’.. Owen jus’ needs to trust you, okay..? You’re a good guy, Scar...”

Scar sighs shakily, but nods. Wasn’t that just a punch to the gut? She clearly believes it too. Like he hadn’t just used her concussion to coax information out of her, to coax trauma out of her. How good is that? 

 

**********

Then Apo gags, and Scar yelps as she slightly tumbles off of his back and empties her stomach on the grass, before completely falling off, landing with her palms on the vomit. Scar makes a face, but in horror, moves quickly to catch her before she falls face down. Then she vomits again and starts coughing violently, oh god yep yep concussion gosh dang it he is a horrible person–

Jellie hops off of his shoulders as he holds Apo by her shirt, the second hand flying up to her hair in an attempt to pull it out of her face. She gags again– and Void it’s gotta hurt– gasping for air and coughing hoarsely. 

Scar could cry. Everything in this situation was terrible, from Apo feeling sick from all the talking, to her hands being covered in stomach acid and digested lunch that they oh so pleasantly had eaten just a few hours ago. Why’d he do that, what was the point? He’s only got more questions, and Apo can’t handle mental activity right now, why’d he start interrogating her like that? 

**********

 

With a grimace, he fishes a rag from his satchel and sits down away from the vomit, leaning Apo back against his chest before wiping her hands and the ends of her hair clean. He uses some water from his own canteen, just to help her feel a little cleaner. Void, he feels awful. 

“Feel a little better?” He gently questions, wiping bile from the corner of Apo’s mouth. She groans, but nods slowly. “Okay.. we’re just gonna.. sit here a minute, okay? Just to be sure…” 

Apo just hums, leaning her whole weight back against Scar. He doesn’t protest the discomfort. He just supports her with one arm, his other hand petting idly through Jellie’s fur. Then he hisses– gosh he’s an idiot– and re-opens his canteen, coaxing her into taking slow sips. Her hands stay still on her stomach while Scar helps with the water, and when he finally moves the canteen away, Apo lets out a soft sob. It startles Scar enough to almost make him spill the last bit of water they have. He waits for a second to see if it was just a one time thing, but soon enough he hears another sob that slowly turns into a quiet cry, confusing– and worrying– him even more.

“Apo? Is everything alright? Are you hurting anywhere?” He asks softly, holding onto her and trying to pat her on her head. 

“Sorry, this is stupid, ’m stupid.. Head hurts, back hurts, everythin’ hurts, I shou’ be better than this.” she mutters between sobs, leaning heavier against Scar. Despite the moment being embarrassing, Apo appreciates the comfort and the warmth coming from her teammate. “Just.. gimme a few minutes, ’m gonna be good, an’.. an’ help, I shoul’ be helping.. They’re all in danger, we don’t know where that… Exor went, who’s chasin’ us right now, and ’m just.. sitting here, ‘n drinkin’ your water, this is so–” She whines, covering her face with her hands and trying to calm herself down. Scar listens, distraught, trying to understand what caused such a reaction. But… He thinks he does understand. 

“You feel like you’re not doing enough?” He asks her softly. Seeing Apo nod, he lets out a sigh, awkwardly putting his chin on her shoulder. “If you ask me, I think you’re doing more than enough. And even if you didn’t, I don't think anyone would be asking you to move mountains like this, would they? Nobody expects anything from you, including me.” He can feel Apo flinch under him, making him panic. “Wait, no, I didn’t mean it like we don’t expect anything because you’re bad or something I just– We’re a team for a reason, right? Things like this happen, and it’s normal to help each other and not expect them to do something impossible while feeling sick or– oh I’m messing this up, words are hard, I–” 

Apo giggles, wiping the tears off and finally putting her hands down. “You’re so silly, Scar,” she says, almost delirious. Her giggles turn into laughter, making him smile. Well, guess he didn’t mess it up in the end.   

“Yeah, I tend to ramble a lot,” he jokingly confesses with a smirk, Apo immediately nodding seriously. He snickers, unoffended by the agreement. He said it first after all! “Okay, I think we should keep moving now. I have a good feeling about the next ten minutes!” 

Apo giggles again, and he grins, lifting her onto his back and letting Jellie climb up to his shoulders. The best girl that she is, Jellie immediately licks Apo’s nose, making the Demon giggle even more. Scar smiles, and then he sets off in a slightly different direction than before, careful not to jostle Apo too much. 

Minutes later, he smells smoke, and he’s alarmed for a split second before he sees a wall and lanterns. Smoke means chimney, chimney means village! 

“Hang on a bit, Apo,” he says, his walk speeding up excitedly. “We’re gonna get you some help.” 

---

Acho has been running for the better part of an hour. Star’s not entirely sure how long, not confidently, but somewhere between half an hour and a full one. Running, with Martyn limp around stars shoulders, is the only thing keeping stars mind from racing too much about the state Grian could be in.

That idiot Sunbird, staying behind like that. If Martyn wasn’t dead weight they would’ve stayed, would’ve fought Exor with him. Stupid. He’s going to get himself killed, Acho knows it. They should’ve stayed, unconscious Siren be damned, they should’ve–

His thoughts are interrupted by a sudden gasp and curse from the man on his shoulders, and he has to drop them quite unceremoniously when Martyn tries to stab him. “It’s me, Gods, Martyn it’s Acho-”

Martyn rolls swiftly to his feet and brings his dagger protectively in front of himself, the post-unconscious haze of his eyes slowly receding. Acho keeps their distance, hands up in surrender, and waits for him to get his bearings. 

“What- What the hell happened? W-where are we? Where are the others?” Martyn piles up the questions, his voice hoarse, quickly looking around in visible confusion and lowering his dagger toward the grass. “I was fighting Exor, what-?”

“You got tossed like a ragdoll. Again,” Acho bluntly comments, arms crossed now that there’s not a knife pointed at him. “Hit your head, passed out. You’ve been passed out for– click-whistle!– a while now. The others… We split up.” 

“Split up?” Martyn breaths, eyes wide. “Without a plan? We split up without a plan?!” He snarls in a rageful panic, immediately regretting it, as he starts coughing violently, holding onto his abdomen. Ah. A crisis and definitely a pair of re-broken ribs, wonderful, they definitely know how to handle this situation.

“Yes,” Acho drawls, a bit uncomfortable with the panicking and pained Siren. It’s one thing to bring Owen or Apo down from a panic attack, it’s another thing entirely to calm down a man he barely knows, who is also wheezing, trying to hold himself together through the agonizing pain of the broken bones. “I’m not sure who– whistle-click-click!– everyone ended up with, but I know most of them– whistle!– at least paired up. Nobody’s by themself, except…” Is it a good idea to tell him that..?

“...E-except?” Martyn urges, and Acho frowns, looking away. Guess they’re telling him.

“Grian was with us, and Exor chased– click!- toodles– him, like always… You were unconscious, so he decided to…”  Acho didn’t need to finish the sentence, Martyn was already backing away with eyes wide.

“Which d-direction did we come from? Where is he?” Martyn demands, his voice still hoarse. He was visibly mad, but it didn’t seem like he was mad specifically at Acho, rather.. mad at himself and everything around them.

“What? Martyn you’re hurt, if we go back now–” 

“Do you think I c-care? I’m not leaving Gri alone with that m-monster, I’d rather go back hurt and b-bloody die by his side than run away like a coward! He’s my friend Acho, w-wouldn’t you do the same for Owen or Apo?” Martyn wheezes out, making them flinch and take a step back. 

He’s right. Of course he’s right, if Apo or Owen were in even a closely similar situation, Acho would never run away like this, but…

“Your head was bleeding. I haven’t checked for a concussion, and I don’t know how bad the wound is. Let me check it first, and– click!- toodles– then we can go back for him, forget the ribs,” the Fae compromises. Martyn grimaces, his free hand clenching in a fist while the other shifts where it’s still clutching his middle. Acho understands him, star knows where this reaction is coming from, but star’s right and Martyn knows it.

“Just– Fuck, okay, fine. Let’s find– water, clean the wound, and then go back to Grian– but we’re g-gonna do this quickly. That dog is fast, there’s no way that fight will last too long.” He leaves no room for Acho’s answer as he turns and closes his eyes, clearly concentrating on something. He can see the Siren’s gills slightly shifting, almost fluttering, and they realize he’s sensing for water. Huh, forgot he could do that…

It doesn't take long. With a decisive nod, his eyes snap back open and he starts slowly walking with purpose. Acho immediately follows him, trusting the Siren’s instincts to lead them.

Maybe they shouldn’t interrupt whatever’s going on in his head, but the tense, seething silence is killing them, so– “It wasn’t my choice, alright?” They speak softly. “He told me to take you and run. More like-like– whistle!– ordered me, really, but… I didn’t choose to leave him, Martyn. And you’re very hurt.”

Martyn doesn’t respond for at least a full minute, looking straight ahead as he walks. Acho is almost convinced he didn’t hear them, before his mouth finally opens. “I know,” he gruffly admits. “You wouldn’t, I k-know that. Grian’s a big enough idiot– to stay behind on his own.” He pauses again, before sighing with a painful cough. “I’m not an-angry at you, Acho. I’m not.. angry, not really, I’m…”

“Scared?” Acho mutters. Maybe it’s a reach, though the responding wince tells him he’s on the right track. But then Martyn scowls and shakes his head firmly.

“I’m not scared,” he growls, immediately clutching at his abdomen even harder, before he continues speaking with a wheeze. “I’m pissed off, Acho.” But the way his fist trembles tells Acho it’s a lie. They know that the Siren is just lying to himself, covering his fear with anger. They know it too well, because he’s not the only one.

Star also knows that Martyn isn’t ready for this conversation. It would have been different if he was just trying to lie to Acho, but that lie wasn’t directed only to star, it was also mostly for himself. Acho wonders if he’s doing that in hopes that one day this lie might turn out to be a truth. Maybe. But not today. 

“Okay, then let’s look at your wound and then-then– click-whistle!– beat the hell out of that assassin, so we can bring you back to your snippy and sassy mood,” Acho says, crossing his fingers, because conversations like these aren’t usually his talent– but he relaxes when he hears a low chuckle.

“Yeah, let’s do it!” Martyn declares, weakly bumping his fist toward the sky, “That p-prick won’t see us coming!” 

Acho lets out a small sigh, but a fond smile appears on his face, and he continues slowly following Martyn between the trees. Soon though, he hears the sounds of a river, followed by hushed words that he recognizes all too well. He knows those voices!

Breaking through the foliage, he’s grateful to spot flowing water, but he’s elated to see two startled avians sitting by the riverbed. 

The wary expressions lift into matching grins. “Acho!” Owen calls happily, at the exact same time Jimmy shouts, “Martyn!” Soon, the four are in a mess of feathers and hugs and laughter, though they’re careful not to nudge Owen’s splinted wing or Martyn’s broken ribs. God, none of them escaped this fight intact.

Acho firmly smacks Owen’s arm, ignoring the answering yelp. “You are an idiot, Owen Agarci! An idiot! What the– whistle-click-whistle!– hell were you thinking hiding a wing injury you m-m-moron–” If anyone asks them how their reunion went, none of them will admit to the way Acho’s voice broke mid-sentence, having star crumble in front of stars friends. 

“Jimmy already got on my case for it!” The Sparrow whines, rubbing his arm dramatically with a pout despite looking at his friend with eyes full of guilt. “I know it was dumb, I’m sorry! I won’t do it again!”

“Good!” Acho scowls with wet eyes they will never in their life confess to, giving the other a flick to the forehead for good measure. “Idiot.” They sigh, softening and planting their face in his chest. “You screamed. They had you by the-the– toodles-whistle!– the throat, Owen, do you have any idea how scary that was?”

Owen hums, burying his face in Acho’s hair with a soft chirp and holding them even closer, afraid to let them go. “I know. I’m really sorry, Acho,” he mumbles. “I won’t hide an injury again. Any injury.” Acho feels him look at Jimmy when he says that, and.. well. Those two must’ve had their own moment. Not stars business. All that mattered was that star actually believed him for now. 

“Grian is alone with Exor,” Martyn grumbles, much louder than the hushed whispers they were hearing while talking to Owen, obviously trying to get their attention. Acho looks up to see him being fussed over by a very concerned Jimmy. “Idiot told Acho to run and leave ‘im. We gotta go back.”

“Your ribs were totally re-broken,” Jimmy deadpans, looking back at Martyn with a dead face, his whole expression asking are you serious right now? 

“We can’t leave him there,” Martyn argues back with a wheeze, only proving Jimmy’s point, while the Canary sighs heavily, hiding his face for a second.

“I can’t change your mind, can I?” He asks, his voice muffled behind his hands.

Martyn straightens as much as the broken ribs allow him, and says a firm “No,” standing in silence for a second while obviously holding in a cough, his face scrunching in pain.

As soon as Jimmy finally looks up and notices that, he yelps, screaming at the Siren. “ Don’t hold in?!” He exclaims, groaning and putting his hands on his head, asking the Gods what he did in his life to deserve this, while Martyn starts violently coughing. A few seconds in, and he throws up a bit of blood, making the whole group yelp. 

Martyn just cleans off the blood from his mouth with a sleeve, and takes a few unsure steps toward the river. “Yeah, I’m gonna.. take a few sips from here first.. and maybe dip into the water for a sec.. and then we can go, yep.”

Jimmy, Owen and Acho share a look with heavy sighs, moving behind the Siren, as he slowly lowers himself in the cold water with a pained moan, making Jimmy groan with even more annoyance. They are utterly fucked.

---

All this section of forest knows for a while is silence. Grian gasping for breath, pinned under a frozen solid Exor, is the only sound that disrupts the air. Their hand is still on his wing, which hurts like nothing he’s ever experienced before, but he’s far more focused on the open terror on Exor’s face.

It’s uncannily similar to last time, when they pulled out his feathers. Mouth slightly agape, entire body still and silent in apparent shock. Their head tilted, only slightly, to the spot their claws meet Grian’s wing. 

This was supposed to be one of the strongest and deadliest assassins of STARR labs. This was supposed to be a Dog without an ounce of empathy left. So why? Why was this all so wrong? The actual horror on their face, the tremble in their hand, the light cyan hair falling from their hood, none of this matched the image of the assassin they had built in their heads. It was all wrong. For once, they didn’t look like a Dog, or a Demon. They looked scared.

“Why.. are you doing this, exactly?” Grian croaks. It’s a longshot– there’s no guarantee they’ll respond, no guarantee they can even be reasoned with, but he has to try. “Like I-I get you’ve probably got orders, but why chase us? Everyone they sent before you was blatantly trying to kill us, but you… you’ve just run after us. Y-you’ve hurt us plenty, yeah, but you’ve never gone for the killing blow, why?”

Was it wise to question an assassin– that has you pinned to the ground, no less– why they haven’t killed you yet? Gods no. But it’s been established that Grian isn’t very smart. “Why are you doing this, Exor?” 

The assassin doesn’t respond. The silence is loud, but it only lets Grian’s mind race more. Why would an assassin drag out a mission? It’s undeniably on purpose. He wasn’t sure at first, but he’s certain now– there is a reason they haven’t killed him yet. There’s a reason Exor hasn’t hurt any of them beyond some scrapes and bruises. There’s a reason, but–

“You.. don’t want to go back,” he mutters. He can practically hear his thoughts clicking into place like puzzle pieces. “You’re dragging it out so you can stay away longer, aren’t you? You don’t want to go back to STARR.”

Exor somehow manages to tense more, and Grian knows he’s hit the nail on the head. “You’re efficient. I’ve seen it, you’re a damn good tracker, a monster of a fighter, and you brush off hits like it’s nothing. You could’ve buried every last one of us by now if you wanted to. But you don’t want to, do you? Because if you do, you have to report back, and they’ll lock you up until the next assignment.” He’s rambling now, he knows it, but his abrupt horror and sickness that has no correlation with his broken wing just keeps the words coming.

“Mumbo.. he said that’s what they do; they put you in cells until they have use of you, and you don’t want to go back there. That’s why you haven’t killed us yet but– But what now? If you don’t want to kill us and go back there… What do you want?” Grian asks, hope slipping into his words. Maybe.. Maybe this will work, because he was right. He was right goddamn it, Exor is just like them!

The goggles on Exor’s face are a lot easier to see through, this close. Their left eye is covered by some sort of medical eyepatch, but the right one is wide, and after hearing Grian’s question it slowly shifts right to stare above his head. He follows their gaze and bites down on his lip, as his wings stare back at him. "You like them? My wings? You.. don't want to hurt them, not on purpose," he speculates. Exor's bloody hand, still clenched around the feathers he ripped out, jerks in surprise. Grian bites down a keen– he can’t react to the pain now, not when he’s actually getting through to them.

At this point, he’s taking one heck of a risk. He knows it, but he still pushes further. “You can touch the feathers… Just be careful, okay?” Despite being the one to suggest this, he still flinches out of instinctual fear that Exor might double down at any moment– but he holds still and waits anxiously for their reaction.

It takes a few seconds for Exor to finally unclench their hand, the broken bloody feathers slowly falling away. They reach down and hesitantly brush their hand against the wing, making Grian tremble, both out of fear and flaming agony. Exor's hand immediately flinches away and Grian lets out a squeak, “No! It’s okay! D-don’t worry, go on,” Exor looks directly in his eyes, tilting their head in question, before they once again turn towards the wing and move their hand back on the feathers. 

Their claws carefully smooth out the twisted feathers with an almost reverent care, exhaling shakily in quiet awe. The needle-sharp appendages should probably hurt, but it just feels like a comb moving through his wing. It’s a startlingly pleasant feeling. Their hand approaches the break in his wing, and he tenses– but then they trill.

It’s a noise of undeniable distress, hoarse and weak with unuse, but it’s a trill. An unquestioningly avian sound. What-?

They seem to realize, belatedly, what noise they made, if the violent flinching that follows is any indication. Before Grian can blink, Exor is scrambling to their feet and bolting into the trees, out of sight. Grian can only lay there, chest and mind swirling with a mix of emotions moving too quickly to identify. He lays down on the grass, not enough strength to even look towards the trees, where Exor once again managed to disappear. 

That sound– He could already see the pain on their face before, but that sound triggered all his instincts, sending him into an emotional spiral. There’s no existing human word or noise that can describe the pain that one sound carried, the despair that accidentally slipped through. The way they acted, the way they looked at his wing, the way they held his wing. These tight clothes that covered their body, no. It’s– No.

He can do nothing but stare at the sky in horror, as he finally understands their reaction to his wings. Because there was no way those clothes could hide any type of avian wings, and avians are the only ones that can make that sound which meant– It felt like his heart had stopped, and yet his chest was burning up from the inside. 

It takes one single sound escaping him, a sound similar to Exor’s, before he feels his chest bursting, tears falling freely from his rapidly blinking eyes. 

He curses himself for not noticing it earlier, but most importantly, he curses the fucking lab that got all of them in this situation in the first place. 

And as he lays there, he can’t think about anything but how badly it must have hurt, when Exor– the Dog, as they called them– lost their ability to fly.

Notes:

We got a bit enthusiastic with this one, have a treat double the word count of the last chapter… Lots of Maze Trio feels! 2/3 had a breakdown today! We’ll get Acho too, don’t you worry <3 – Jinx

Hopped in to say hi chat! We put so much into this chapter, we hope you like it!! – Ann

Also. We have a Discord server. Yk, if you wanna come hang out.. No pressure… I like to think we’re fun tho. We’ll be doing status updates, we have a channel for movies, chat rooms, etc. Feel free to stop by, we’d love to have you! – Jinx
https://discord.gg/AmcKabb425

Chapter 8: Won’t ever leave my memory of bloodshed all around

Summary:

Chapter CW/TW: Medical talk, uncharacteristic cursing/foul language, description of injury, self-worth issues, glitchy text

Chapter Title is from "Goodbye" by Ramsey

!!Hover mouse over glitchy text for a boxed translation! (Mobile/Tablet users should see End Notes)

Mumbo quite likes villages, for many reasons. The biggest one, to him at least, is how blatantly friendly the locals tend to be. As long as you’re respectful of their space and time, they return that respect to the best of their ability.

Villages weren’t rare, exactly, but they could be few and far between in certain regions. Taigas, like the one they find themselves in now, usually have only one or two villages in the whole of the biome because of how difficult it is to set up comfortably in the snowy conditions. They’re a bit of a luxury, making it all the better that he and Joel have found one so quickly.

Strangely enough, he.. recognized some of the villagers? He could swear that some of them look eerily similar to the locals from the last village they passed through, but he dismisses it as regional similarities. People can look similar in the same parts of the world, it’s not a novelty! Plus, villagers travel, they could just be traders.

Regardless, their point is, it doesn’t take long to secure a place to stay. It’s a small, unused hut at the edge of town, plenty of space for themself and Joel to hunker down before making a game plan. They need to figure out how they’ll go about finding the others. Splitting up in such a haste, and without a plan… Well, it certainly complicates things.

“Is that..?” Joel mutters, snatching Mumbo’s attention from his internal musings. “Oh, bloody Nether, it is! Hah!”

Mumbo squints at the window, searching for whatever it is that Joel’s just seen– oh! It’s Scar! Scar and Apo!

They both look out of sorts, and Apo looks horrifically disoriented on Scar’s back, but they’re alive! And whole! Thank the Dragon!

“Scar!” Mumbo shouts, already skidding on the ground out of the hut and running to the duo. The Vex perks up and grins, giving a quick wave before hoisting Apo more securely on his back. 

“Mumbo, Joel! Oh man, it’s great to see you guys!” He laughs. Jellie meows in apparent agreement, making Mumbo chuckle. Gods, he missed that cat.

“What’s up with her?” Joel demands, staring pointedly at the.. very woozy Demon on Scar’s back. “..She’s got a concussion, doesn’t she?”

“Yeah…” Scar sighs, visibly concerned. “Finally knocked her head a little too hard this time. Is there a Cleric nearby we can chat with?”

Mumbo nods with a hum, hurriedly leading the man to the nearest Cleric. The fierce-looking woman that answers the door– and wow she really looks familiar– takes one look at Apo and ushers them inside with a scowl. She’s speaking a little too fast for Mumbo to keep up with, exhausted as he is, but Scar seems to keep up just fine because he’s nodding along and seemingly following her instructions as she speaks.

Apo’s head becomes the victim of several potions and tonics, before being rewrapped expertly while the woman continues apparently scolding him for walking around with such an injury. Then he’s made to eat and drink a lot of water– note to self, concussion victims very much need to stay hydrated– before finally being allowed to rest as the remaining trio is ushered out of his room. 

The Cleric sighs heavily, pinching her nose in blatant exasperation. “Exactly how often do you boys get int’a trouble? And where in the Overworld’s the rest a’ ya merry band, eh?”

Scar frowns. “..That’s why I recognize you. This is the same village we passed last time? How did…”

Joel grunts. “Must’ve circled back when we split up, we weren’t exactly paying attention to direction in that scramble.” Then he addresses the Cleric– Cordelia, Mumbo thinks her name was. “We got into another fight with the guy chasing us and had to split up. We’re working on figuring out how to find the others.” 

Cordelia nods with a frown. “Well. Feel free to chat amongst y’selves, boys, I’ll be brewin’ some Strength for your friend ‘ere.”

Scar gives the woman a polite nod as the remaining trio gets somewhat comfortable around Apo: Mumbo has a seat on the floor, Joel takes the rickety chair next to the bed, and Scar joins Apo on the mattress, sitting at her feet. Jellie immediately hops off of Scar’s lap and climbs Apo’s lax form, curling up on her chest and purring like a motor. The best girl.

“Good g’rl,” Apo whispers with a giggle, as she slowly moves her hand up and down on Jellie’s fur, making the cat purr even louder. “Heh…”

“Oh, she’s completely out of it,” Joel says with amusement, “What the hell happened with the two of you?” 

“Ooh– I wouldn’t be so happy about it, she threw up a few times while we were searching for any of you,” Scar answers and immediately visibly shivers, “That was not a pleasant experience.”

“S’rry” Apo suddenly whines, covering her eyes with her free hand. It makes Scar flinch and go sickly pale. 

“Ah! I didn’t mean– It’s okay, Apo, don’t worry about it! We talked about it, it’s fine!” He quickly tries to reason with her, and Mumbo is taken aback. 

Yes, they have been a team for a while now– being on the run and spending every single day together– but he doesn’t think Scar and Apo ever talked to each other other than the team discussions, when they were talking about the plans for the future. Them having a heart to heart was not something he expected, but considering that the two were left completely alone, and that Scar loved to chat, and how friendly Scar was around people, helping them open up, it was bound to happen one day.

“Right! Mumbo, Joel! Tell Apo that it’s fine to not do anything when you have a literal concussion, and that she doesn’t need to worry about being useless!” Scar turns towards the two in desperate need of help. Judging by the way Apo tensed under the covers, Mumbo could guess that this was the conversation they had when it was just the two of them.

“Of course! We are a team after all, we take care of each other; and when one of us is down, we help and protect them!” They exclaim in response, trying to match Scar’s usual bright smile. 

“Why would you think otherwise?” Joel wonders, furrowing his brows, his full attention now directed towards Apo.

Apo just shrugs, her hand falling from her face back down on the covers, the other still soothingly petting Jellie. “It’s hard…”

“What’s hard?” Joel asks again, moving his chair closer to the bed. From his seat on the floor, Mumbo can see Scar biting down on his tongue, looking.. anxious?

“Maybe we shouldn’t–” The Vex starts, but he immediately gets interrupted by Apo.

“Proving ourselves,” she whispers, making the trio freeze. “You all‘re friends.. You all know each other ‘nd.. We’re jus’.. Just us. If we can’t prove ourselves as good support, why would you need us? If we can’t be strong, i-if we can’t be useful then why keep us around?” 

After that, the room falls into silence. Mumbo… never thought about the possibility of the Maze trio feeling like this. Yes, he can admit that it’s very obvious that most of them have a good relationship, that they’re friends and they don’t need to see each other as “useful” to be by their side, but the Maze survivors… None of them ever attempted to befriend them, did they? None of them ever called them friends, or invited the three to their friendly chats, or kept them around when they would sometimes sleep closer than other nights, all three of them chatting in hushed voices followed by light giggles.

Gods, of course they felt excluded. They were excluded. 

“Listen,” Mumbo jerks, quickly turning towards Joel, who has now fully moved closer to Apo and is sitting right by her side. They send a quick glance towards Scar, wondering what Joel is about to do, when he speaks up once again after gaining Apo’s attention. “We are not like those monsters from the Trials.” Mumbo chokes on air and sees Scar’s eyes going wide, with Apo painfully wincing. 

“You don’t have to prove yourself or your strength for us to keep you around. The first day we met was the day we already decided that we would do everything in our power to get you to safety with us. I might be stubborn most of the time, but I can admit that we were wrong to exclude you. I think all of us thought that giving you some time, so you could come to us yourselves, was the best way to help, but we were wrong. You needed someone to be there for you, someone to act like a friend– but in this group, you only had each other, and I'm sorry.”

Mumbo has never heard Joel sound so sincere. Yes, he had his moments when he would go soft on them, but it was mostly when they were having fun and joking around. This? He was speaking with his heart on his sleeve. 

“He’s right,” Mumbo finally speaks up. “We should’ve connected to you more. We should’ve shown you that we don’t care what you can or can’t contribute to the group, because no matter what, you are one of us now.” He turns towards Scar, waiting for his answer, already knowing that he will also agree with this– but he’s surprised by a very sad expression, Scar’s eyes almost wet. Mumbo doesn’t understand; yes, he feels guilty for what they’ve done, but Scar’s reaction was coming from somewhere else. Their conversation from before, maybe?

“I’m sorry, Apo,” Scar whispers, slowly moving up and holding onto Apo’s free hand with both of his own. “You all deserve so much better. You’re a good person, Apo.” 

Apo sniffs but stays quiet for a minute, before finally nodding to the trio. “Yeah.. Okay,” she whispers back, a little smile appearing on her face. “Acho and Owen.. they’re good too, I promise.” 

Mumbo nods, hearing murmurs of agreement from the others. It was probably time for them to make the first move and start bonding with the trio. In a situation like theirs, they need all the friends they can get.

“My back..” Apo suddenly murmurs again, frowning at Jellie. “It.. hurts s’metimes, hard t’ walk.”

Scar winces, remembering the previous conversation about the spear in the chest, and how Apo mentioned her back hurting a few days ago. Gods. “Okay,” he whispers back sadly. “We will keep it in mind, and make sure Gri also knows.”

Apo’s frown deepens after Grian was mentioned, but otherwise, she doesn’t comment, just giving a little nod in response. None of them understand why she had this reaction but for now, they decided to drop it. Apo needs a break, and honestly? They wouldn’t mind one either.

---

Jimmy helps Martyn secure his black bandana on his left wrist– now that his head is half covered with white bandages– as Owen and Acho pick up all the leftover medical supplies and return them back to Jimmy’s first aid kit. While they were stuck at the river, Jimmy decided that he could use this time to at least check on Martyn’s head, to know if they were matching into a possible fight with their friend with not only a few broken ribs, but a whole concussion.

Good news? No concussion in sight.

As they clear the riverbed, Martyn leads the other three back to the place where he first woke up on Acho’s back, using his memory of the trees. From there Acho takes the lead, showing them the direction they split up and ran away from.

“He should be somewhere around there, if…” Star doesn’t finish the sentence, and Owen can feel chills running down her spine. Just thinking about Grian fighting that Dog alone makes everyone tense, and considering how long ago it happened… When did they split up? An hour ago? An hour and a half?

“He’s gonna be fine,” Martyn replies firmly, wincing and shaking his head. “But he n-needs us right now, so come– on and pick up the pace.” He continues hobbling down the path, and Owen winces, partly understanding the pain the Siren is experiencing right now.. 

Both Acho and Jimmy send them both worried glances once in a while, but she always shakes them off with a strained smile. She was okay, she could deal with this. It wasn’t the first time she hurt her wing– yeah, maybe it was never broken before, but she had a broken wrist before and walked it off so she can totally deal with this. Martyn’s walking around with broken ribs, she can handle a busted wing.

It doesn’t matter that every single step sends another wave of pain through his whole body as his wings slightly shift, moving up and down. He’s very glad for the splint Jimmy made, but sadly they didn’t have proper tools to make a professionally good one and keep her wing all tight and secure like the Canary would’ve preferred. They would need to find a village, it’d be nice to get help from Clerics. They can’t exactly fix his wing or Martyn’s ribs in seconds but their magic and potions tend to help make the healing process much quicker. 

They keep passing by the same familiar spruce trees, the taiga becoming a constant sight by now, before Martyn abruptly stops, making the others behind him also pause in confusion. 

“Is that– No,” Martyn whispers hoarsely, before he slowly moves to the left, stumbling up to something. 

“Martyn? What’s going on?” Jimmy asks in concern, looking over his friend. The group moves closer to the Siren, who is now standing over something laying in the snow. Owen could see a recognizable sparkle of iron under the sun, before Jimmy leans down and grabs two pieces of said iron, standing up and presenting parts of a very familiar sword to the others. 

“This is my sword! This– What?! We passed this p-place days ago!” Martyn wheezes out, looking down at the broken iron pieces in Jimmy’s hands, one of them covered in dried black blood. Owen’s eyes go wide.

“That’s.. Oh my god, that’s why we are still in this biome… We weren’t moving forward, were we?” She asks, horrified, as the truth finally dawns on her.

“The taiga..” Acho answers instead, with the same recognition on their face. “We’ve been walking in the same biome for so long, I was wondering how it was so big, but it wasn’t.. We were running in circles this whole time.” 

“We weren’t just running– in circles!” Martyn yells with an immediate cough, as he grabs a jagged iron piece from Jimmy, looking down at it. Owen winces when she sees him clenching the broken blade in his hand with so much strength that it breaks skin, red liquid slowly running down his palm. “That– That thing was r-running us in circles! Every time we t-tried to run, it stood in the way, k-knowing that we had to go the opposite direction– that’s how it t-tricked us into running like this!” He finished, throwing his hand up as much as he can, and slightly splattering the blood around himself. But he doesn’t seem to care. 

“So they were playing with us this whole time…” Jimmy inhales sharply. He shudders as he reaches back to the bag on Acho’s back, where they put the leftover bandages. “I mean.. I already knew they were playing with us, but this.. This is even worse.”

Owen bites down her lip, looking between Jimmy and Acho while Martyn continues hoarsely grumbling about something in the background, throwing his hands around and making poor Jimmy– who was trying to calm him down and force him to stay still– annoyed, stubbornly trying to bandage his hand. This is worse. It shows that Exor is even more strategic and aware of things than they initially thought. What was the reason they kept doing this? Maybe… Maybe forcing them to split up was their true goal. Maybe they wanted to pick them all off one by one, and leaving Grian alone with them–

“Okay, Acho, let’s run ahead, Jimmy do your thing,” Owen addresses the avian, as she quickly continues running down the path.

“Hey– what?!” Martyn coughs in the background, while Acho picks up the pace behind her.

“Let him take care of your hand and then walk as fast as you can! You’re right, we need to get to Grian as fast as possible!” Owen shouts, turning back for a second to see Jimmy already tending to Martyn’s self-inflicted injury. Martyn was looking down at his hand, anxious and visibly guilty, probably scolding himself for letting something like this happen when they were already on a time limit. She turns away and– with Acho by her side– disappears through the trees, leaving the duo behind.

Owen runs with Acho with all the speed he dares to use, pushing past the roar of pain in his wing in favor of finding the Sunbird as quickly as possible. His mind races with the worst possibilities, cursing himself for letting this happen. Martyn may have been blaming himself, but Owen knows all too well that it’s his own fault. If he had told someone about his wing, if he hadn’t gotten arrogant thinking he wouldn’t need to retreat from Exor in that fight… none of this would’ve happened. Jimmy and Acho had every reason to scold him for his stupidity. It’s his fault Grian might be…

No, they can’t think like that. Grian’s strong, he was the task force’s Captain for a reason, even if Owen never saw it themself. He can hold his own in a fight, even if the fight is against someone like Exor. He’ll be fine. A little banged up maybe, but–

Acho curses next to her less than a second before she sees him. Grian is sprawled out flat on the grass, staring up at the sky. He’s sobbing, his breath coming in short, wet gasps as he trembles. His wings are spread at his side, but the left one– oh Void not him too– is bent unnaturally, with a patch of twisted and bloody feathers obscuring what’s likely a break. Dammit.

“Grian!” Owen shouts, running to his side with haste. He doesn’t seem heavily injured outside the wing break, thank the Gods, but he isn’t even looking at them so something else must be wrong. “Grian, hey, talk to me, snap out of it. Grian!”

“Void, his wing–” Acho hisses, lowering starself at Grian’s other side. “Grian? Can you hear us? I need you to say something if you can hear us.”

“They…” Grian whispers, sputtering another sob. “They were.. They don’t have.. Who took.. How could they..?” 

“What happened?” Owen questions, internally panicking. Jimmy needs to hurry, they’ve gotta do something for that wing, and fast. “What the hell did Exor do to you?” 

Grian just shakes his head, sobbing again, what in the Overworld happened? “They didn’t.. They don’t want…” Another sob.

“Is he in shock..?” Owen mutters, glancing up at Acho in concern. They just shrug helplessly, which, fair enough, he's clueless too. 

It’s then– thank the Dragon– that Jimmy and Martyn break through the foliage and rush to join them. Martyn hisses in angry worry, and Owen watches Jimmy enter that medical headspace again, shrugging off his bag and getting to work.

Not many words are spoken while Jimmy splints and wraps Grian’s wing. The Sunbird just keeps sobbing, exchanging mournful chirps and trills with Jimmy that Owen has to fight not to respond to. It doesn’t feel like his place.

Martyn sits down by Grian’s other side, staring at the fractured wing angrily, while Acho and Owen watch in concern. The Sunbird’s eyes are squeezed shut now, the tears slowing little by little as his wing is wrapped securely, much like Owen’s.

Grian finally opens his wet eyes, looks up, and freezes, his attention directed to something behind Owen's back. Before she can ask anything, Grian chokes another cry, and with all of his strength he launches himself up, embracing Owen. “Your wing.. How…”

Owen startles, blinking in bewilderment. Slowly, careful not to nudge Grian’s splinted wing, she wraps her arms around him and hugs him just a bit closer. “I broke it a while ago, just.. hid it, like an idiot. I’ll be alright, ‘s just gotta heal, like yours.”

Grian just chirps in distress, squeezing them tighter and trembling violently. Tentatively, Owen chirps back, bracing himself for.. something. Rejection, maybe. A flinch, or a hiss, anything to indicate that he truly has no right to indulge in those instincts, that’s just for flock how dare he–  

Grian just trills, relaxing a miniscule amount, and chirps again. More sure of himself, Owen gives his own responding trill. Then Jimmy chirps too, nudging Owen’s shoulder with his forehead, and without warning the three of them are chirping and twittering in earnest.

It’s the most freeing feeling Owen’s experienced in.. years, really. The last time he indulged in his instincts this extensively he was just a chick, and…

It’s not surprising when a sob interrupts her next chirp, but it catches her off guard anyway. She did cry with Jimmy earlier, letting him see some of her feelings slipping through; but now that both Jimmy and Grian were holding onto her with such loving care, she knew that if she started, she wouldn’t be able to hold back. The dam– that she kept shut for years upon years– would finally break. She couldn’t allow herself to do that, but then Jimmy gives a soothing chirp back, followed by a low call from Grian, and she breaks. 

(And if Acho felt a little bit excluded from the group at that moment, he would never tell that to a single soul. Because for the first time in so many years, Owen finally felt safe. For the first time in so many years, she finally found something that she lacked, even with him and Apo around. More than brothers. A flock.)

---

The dog has a pain in its chest that it cannot identify. There is a burning in its remaining eye that it cannot explain.

It has somehow been compromised. The Sunbird avian has done something, the dog is sure of it. The ache in its chest is unacceptable. It should report to base, get the ache sorted, it can always track the target down again once it has been fixed.

The dog should not want. Yet it wants… it wants. It does not want to report back. Another flaw that must be repaired. Yet it has not begun to return to base, why? Another flaw.

The target did something. They must have. The burning started when it finally had them down, when it could have finally completed its mission but didn’t. Another flaw. So many flaws, so many that are festering, that the dog is allowing to fester because it does not want t̵o̶ ǵ̶̰͚̓o̷̩̐ ̶̨̥̅b̶̠͠ā̵̧̩͆c̸̜͉͒̓k̵̨̽͝ ̴̹̱̽d̶͉́ǒ̶̙̲͝ǹ̴͓’̵̭͑͐t̵͉̊ ̶̛̝̟͐m̴̞̠̊ä̷̤̲́̅k̵̪̇͜͠é̸̝̂ ̸͈̼͛̾m̵͍͌e̷͔̤͐͂ ̴̢̭̏g̴͈͛o̴͓̎͜ ̷̡̩̄b̴̼͇̅ǎ̷͈̘c̵̱͓͐̑k̴̤̂͋ ̶̡̬̐̒I̴͕̠͌ ̴̞̀͆d̶̥͚͛̎o̸̭̼̒n̸̩͗’̷̩͘t̸̯̀ ̸̮̗̓Ẅ̶̯̮́À̷̭N̶̼̋̊T̸̬͙͐͠–̵̊̌

The target did this. Has been doing this. Every time the dog sees their wings its eye starts to burn. Another flaw. Every time the dog has touched their wings, it falters, it freezes. Another flaw.  

Their wings are beautiful. Shimmering, iridescent things, catching the light just right. Ḍ̵͋i̷̺̓d̶̜̕n̴͎͊'̸̈́ͅt̴͕̚ ̵̜̉X̶͙̔ó̷͔r̵̨̽'̶̦̂s̶̟̃ ̸͉̋u̸͎̇s̴̜͛ẻ̴̫ḍ̴͝ ̴̬͌t̶̘͑ọ̴̒ ̷͇̃d̴͙̃ò̷͉ ̶̐t̶̫͗h̴̙͊a̸̡̋t̸̺̀-̵̟͐?

It should not be paying attention to the wings. It is disobeying orders by paying attention to the wings, but the dog cannot ignore them. They are simply too obvious to ignore. Too bright, too pretty, Gods they’re so pretty. I̶̮̓ț̴̽s̸̻̏ ̴̜͊w̴̛̥ī̷͔n̷̗͗g̵̹̑s̸̞͌ ̷̳͝c̶͒͜o̷̒͜ȗ̷͕l̶͓̿d̴̰͋'̵̰̅v̴͔͗e̸̦̕ ̶̼̊b̵̢̊ĕ̵͖e̶͍͝n̶̟͘ ̵̜̕ṭ̷͑ḫ̸̕a̸͎͋t̷͇̔ ̷̞͝p̶͎͛ř̷̯e̴̱̋t̶̜͊t̷̹̆ỵ̷͑,̵̘͝ ̶̯̿į̷̆f̶̭̍ ̴̯̕i̴͇̽t̶̼̍ ̸̨̋w̸̞̄e̷̼͘r̴͈̂e̴̻͂ ̷̨́a̶̳̿l̵͕͝ĺ̵͔ȏ̶̠ẅ̷̤́e̷̤͒d̸̞́ ̵͇͠ť̶̠ǫ̷̓ ̷̪͑ǩ̷̢e̸͙͝e̴͐ͅp̷͎̂ ̸̫̐t̵̞̕h̴̥́e̴̬̊m̷͓̈́.̷̯́

There’s the burning again. E̷̊ͅn̶̠̎ṿ̸̚y̶͎̐.̸̪́ No, that can’t be right. The wings should not matter, the wings cannot matter, they are only complicating its mission. They only worsen the burning.

It must stop stalling. Its superiors will be angered already, it cannot delay any longer. It must eliminate the target, and report to base. It must return to its cage, before the burning has a chance to get even worse.

D̷͙͛ō̸̢n̷͖̽'̷̭̿ẗ̴̼́ ̴̹͂g̷̫͊ò̷̰ ̶̙̇b̷̫̈́ȁ̶̖c̶̙̈ḵ̶̑ ̶̛͈t̴̡̔h̸̩͐e̵̥̍r̸̠͆e̴͉͘ ̵̜͌b̶̨̀ṳ̸̀d̵̠͝d̷͙̀ý̴̼ ̴̛̭ṗ̴̤l̵͍̃ė̴̡ã̷̼s̸̲̐e̷̜̒.̸̦͗

…It can gather intel, yes? Yes, that is within its mission parameters. It can.. watch, gather information, and then complete the mission. For intel purposes. Of course. It will observe the target and their legion for a while, let them believe they’ve had their victory. Yes.

G̸͓͊ḯ̸̢ṽ̴̠é̵ͅ ̶͍̅t̴̬̚h̵̤̅e̸͚̅ ̸̳̚n̸̬̈́ǐ̷̥c̵̖̈e̴̪̋ ̴̼͑o̶̭͐n̴͍̚e̶̛̲ ̶̝̔a̵̝͋ ̸̩̾b̴̗̊r̸͚̾e̶͈̓ȁ̴̻ḱ̴̠.̷̞̿ ̴̀͜H̵̃ͅe̶͐͜ ̵̗̚ļ̷̋ő̵̫o̶͇͘k̷͍̓e̶̱͋ď̸ͅ ̸͉́ś̴͍o̷̲͘ ̸̮͝s̷͕̆a̷̫͌d̸͍̀.̷̱͝

The dog will wait. It will watch. Then it will complete its mission.

.̵̢̈́.̸̨̂.̷͓̾K̵͚̄e̷̞͠e̶͔̔p̸̡̄ ̴̲̋t̵̙́e̶̱͐l̶̰̈ľ̶̯i̴̮͆ṅ̵̯g̷̭̅ ̵̢̔y̴͜͝o̸͖̅ú̸͜r̷̥̕s̴͙̋è̸͈l̸̦͐f̶̱̈́ ̵̪̌t̷̜̀h̶̢̒a̶͚͋ṫ̸̘,̷̠̉ ̶̻̈́l̸̢̑i̷̫͠t̶̪̃t̴̰̕l̷͕̔e̴͍͊ ̶̱̈́b̸̼͑r̸͜͠o̷͉̿ẗ̷̼́ḧ̶͎ẹ̴̋r̵̦̽.̴̖͝

Notes:

I'm so normal about all of them guys wdym-
I LIKE THEM ALL A NORMAL AMOUNT WDYM-

On a slightly more serious note, yay my fav OC has returned. I love Cordelia y'all she's great <3
~Jinx

Glitchy Text Translations:
...to go back don't make me go back I don't WANT-
Didn't Xor's used to do that-?
Its wings could've been that pretty, if it were allowed to keep them.
Envy.
Don't go back there buddy please.
Give the nice one a break. He looked so sad.
...Keep telling yourself that, little brother.

Chapter 9: My heart is full of ache, when will it break?

Notes:

Chapter CW/TW: Emotional conversations(?), implication/talk of mutilation of an Avian, debating whether or not to kill someone, dehumanization, mentioned concussion, injury, medical talk, mentions of blood

Chapter Title is from “Can’t I Even Dream?” by JubyPhonic

Jimmy doesn’t know what to do anymore. He’s worried.

They’re split from the others. Grian is having some sort of breakdown in Owen’s arms, and even with the exchanged chirping he can’t for the life of him figure out what’s upset his friend so much. Sure, he’s got a gnarly broken wing, but the way he reacted to Owen’s splint? That suggests something. He just.. can’t figure out what. The pieces are missing, and he doesn’t know where they could be.

“Jimmy,” Owen mutters, still holding Grian protectively in her lap. Her good wing is wrapped securely around the sobbing Sunbird, but her attention is glued intensely to Jimmy. He’ll admit, it makes him squirm a little.

“Y-yeah?” He questions, fighting the anxious fluffing of his wings.

“You’re the only one of us that can fly now,” Owen winces, glancing at their own splinted wing for a moment. “Do you think you’d be able to find the others from the sky?”

The Canary perks up at that, his anxiety vanishing in an instant. “Of course I can!” He declares. “I’ve got a good eye, I can find ‘em.”

Owen nods. “Please.”

Jimmy nods firmly right back, reluctantly pulling away from Grian so he can stand and spread his wings. With a deep breath and several strong flaps, he breaks through the tall spruce trees and takes proper flight. He decides to fly in the direction he’s fairly certain Scar and Apo went first– he saw the Demon go down hard, so they may not have gotten far. Luckily, there isn’t active snowfall, so every now and then he catches some footprints in patches of unmelted snow that tell him he’s on the right track.

He comes to a much larger rockface, towering into a massive hill, and he almost turns around– but then he sees the cave, and skid marks through the snow curving into it. Bingo.  

He slowly descends and makes his way into the cave on high alert, just in case. He inspects the stone ground, the stone walls– blood. There’s a smeared patch of blood on the left wall, right by the cave’s entrance. That’s not good. He crouches so it’s closer to eye level, and does some mental calculation; if someone were sitting down right here, leaning against the wall, then this blood came from a really bad head wound. The type that would absolutely cause a concussion. That’s definitely not good. It’s probably Apo’s blood, oh dear.  

He hums worriedly to himself, making his way back out of the cave and scanning the snow for footprints. There’s two sets leading to the skidding, but where… aha! One set leading away, moving the other direction. Scar must have started carrying Apo. Follow the footprints, Jimmy.

He stays on the ground this time, following the footprints in whatever snow hasn’t melted yet. Thankfully there’s enough that he never loses the trail for long; he does have to fly up to the trees occasionally, but he quickly finds more prints and returns to the ground each time. At one point he finds a very concerning patch of vomit and blood– not good, so so so not good– and speeds up his walk a little. He has faith in Scar, but better safe than sorry.

He briefly loses the trial once more, and takes to the sky to find it again, but sees– oh my Gods a village! They found a village!

He drops back to the ground hastily– right in front of the gate to the village– and makes his way inside. If they’re staying here, they’re either at one of the small guest huts on the edge of town or they’re in the Cleric’s building. Cleric’s closest, so he speed-walks to the door and knocks as politely as he possibly can despite his anxiety.

To his– albeit mild, considering– surprise, it’s a very familiar face that answers the door. He’s fairly certain her name was Cordelia. “Ah. ‘S you. Come in, y’ friends’re here.”

Jimmy chirps happily with a polite bow of his head, rushing into the building.

“Jimmy!” Joel grins, sitting up straight. “Well would you look at that, you blummin’ found us.”

“Hey Jim,” Scar grins.

“Guys,” Jimmy breathes, melting in relief. He tenses all over again when he sees Apo, unconscious on the bed the others are seated around. “I-Is h–” He notes the black markings on the Demon’s face, “–she, okay?”

“Just fell asleep mate,” Mumbo assures him. “She’s alright.”

“Banged her head pretty hard, though,” Scar winces.

“I saw the cave,” Jimmy shudders. “Lots of blood.”

“She’ll be alright though,” Joel nods firmly. “Cordelia’s taking care of her. She’ll be just fine with some rest.”

“Right,” Jimmy nods back. “R-right! I came to find you for the others, I gotta go get them!”

“You all found each other?” Mumbo blinks. “That’s lucky.”

“Yup!” The Canary chirps. “I’m gonna go, I’ll be back with the others!”

“Go to the stone-roof house at the back of town,” Joel instructs. “We’re gonna be heading there soon. We shouldn’t crowd this place.”

“Right, got it!” Jimmy is already on his way back out, taking to the sky the moment there’s no longer a roof over his head. He does some mental math as he flies, calculating the route back without taking all the twists and turns he did to find the village with prints. He makes an internal map and, once satisfied, speeds up his descent to reach the others.

“I found ‘em!” He announces the very second his feet touch the ground. “They found that village we passed through last, with that real rough southern Cleric? Cordelia?”

“I remember her,” Acho nods. “Lead the way?”

Jimmy nods back. Owen gathers Grian up in his arms– the Sunbird is still inconsolable, Gods what happened– and the three standing Outsiders follow the Canary. He takes it slow, constantly referencing his mental map and ensuring he’s going the right direction, while also allowing Martyn to lean against his shoulder in order to walk better, so it takes a long while for them to reach the village. 

Most of the way to the village Jimmy spends deep in thought, very concerned, after Acho asked a very important question. “We were going in circles this whole time, weren’t we? The village… it’s too close, considering how much time we spent trying to walk away from it… We were circling the same area for days.”

“Because of Exor,” Owen adds, the answer very obvious, and Grian flinches in his arms but otherwise still stays silent.

Jimmy didn’t understand why. Why was Exor playing with them so much? And what happened with Grian? He was with Exor, fighting, so he was in this condition because of them. But… Why didn’t they just kill him? Where were they when the group found Grian on the ground crying? What even caused such a reaction?

They step into the village and, seconds later, stand in front of the hut Joel instructed them to go to. As they enter the little room, Owen carefully places Grian on the bed, trying not to hurt his wings worse, Jimmy also slowly guiding Martyn to it for him to sit down and relax, instead of straining himself any further.

“We will need to go to Cordelia after this,” Owen says, before slightly cringing and looking back at Jimmy. “Not to say that you did bad, with the resources we had you did amazing, but I think we both need at least one potion each. And, well.. Martyn.”

“Oh absolutely!” Jimmy agrees vehemently. “When the others get back I’ll get you all to Cordelia, we just didn’t wanna crowd her. Apo’s got a concussion, so he’ll be there with you guys, that’s where the others are.”

Owen nods with a small smile. “Good. It’s a plan, then.”

“What are we doing about Exor?” Martyn questions weakly, reclining against the wall closest to the bed with an arm around his middle. “We can’t keep letting– it do this shit to us. Sooner or later it’s g-going to stop playing around.” 

“They won’t touch us in the village,” Owen firmly states. “It happened last time we were here. They could’ve ambushed us at any time, and they didn’t. We’re safe in the village until we figure out what to do next.”

The Siren clicks his tongue, turning away with a scowl. Jimmy glances between the two worriedly, then glances at Acho. The Fae just shrugs helplessly. 

“We need more resources. So far, this encounter showed us two things: first is that we are not ready to take them on, that power is terrifying. And second, we don’t have enough resources, especially for medical care. Jimmy is good at what he does, but it doesn’t change the fact that even the best Clerics can’t do a thing if they don’t have materials to do a thing. Who has our bag of money? We need to count and buy some kits, maybe even one for each, if something like this happens again and we end up splitting up. We can’t let the same situation happen again, like with Scar and Apo,” Owen suggests, sitting down on the bed next to Grian, who still hasn’t responded. 

They can’t just sit around and wait until Grian shakes out of his current state, they need to get to work. Owen knows that if she was in his situation (and she was, once,) she would have felt terrible after realizing that the team lost too much time because of her sickness. 

“Well.. I think the bag is with Scar, he loves his silly trinkets– money included– but I don’t think we had enough for two medical kits, I don’t think we can talk about one for each of us,” Jimmy adds, digging in their backpacks. “Yep, nothing, so it’s with the other group.”

“The village is too small for a proper Guild as far as I’ve seen, but we should still check, maybe we can find some source of income here.. Maybe I can talk with Cordelia too, she seemed kind, she might get us some help while we are here.” 

“We can ask around the town for Guild or other part-time jobs,” Acho says, looking back at Martyn. “Jimmy will get you to Cordelia for a check up, and someone will stay here with Apo, while others split up in the village.”

Martyn shifts weakly with a frown on his face. “Yeah, okay, j-just.. I think we should– be at least in groups of two, the fact that it d-didn’t attack us here last time– doesn’t mean it won’t now, especially considering t-the state it left Grian.”

Owen hums and nods. “That’s true, I don’t think going ourselves is a good idea, so that will work.” 

There’s noises behind the door, all attention immediately moving toward it, when someone familiar opens it and walks in, others behind him. 

“Noooo, let’s do the apple pie!” Scar suggests enthusiastically, walking into the room with Apo perched on his back. 

“Nooo! Not the Apo Pie!” She whines, laying her hand on the Vex’s shoulder as her horn pricks the skin right under Scar’s ear, making him giggle and move his head away.

Owen narrows their eyes in confusion and slight discomfort, as Scar brings Apo to the bed, helping her sit down. 

“Apo insisted on being carried by Scar,” Joel informs the others, as he and Mumbo follow them inside, closing the door behind them. “Said Scar gives good piggybacks,” he adds with a snort.

“Yeah, and now Scar is tired and needs some rest if you don’t mind, because this day was exhausting,” Scar complains, a smile still on his face as he drops on the bed right next to Apo. His eyes immediately go to Grian, who has taken almost half the bed, laying in silence. “Grian?” He asks with a frown, concerned. “You good there, buddy?”

“He’s.. w-we don’t know what happened,” Owen admits, shaking away his confusion. It’s not a big deal. “We found him in the forest, just.. on the ground, sobbing. He’s barely spoken. All we know is that Exor broke his wing and scratched him up a little.”

Mumbo winces, softening. “Oh, mate…”

“So Jim’s our only pair of eyes in the sky now, ‘uh?” Joel grumbles, glancing at the Sunbird. “That’s unfortunate.”

“Usually I’d take offense to that but I’m letting it go this time,” Jimmy huffs. “I just.. I wanna know what they did. Wing injuries suck, yeah, but this feels like.. more.” 

“It’s definitely more…” Owen sighs. “Something happened. Something else, something other than a fight. I just can’t figure out what’d leave Grian in a state like this.”

“I know he’s probably dissociating but it-it– click-whistle!– it feels so wrong to talk about him like he’s not here,” Acho giggles anxiously.

“I don’t know why it matters what the bastard did,” Martyn scowls, wincing again. “Clearly this whole t-trap idea isn’t gonna b-bloody work. Why don’t we j-just kill the thing? Be d-done with it!”

“NO!” Grian suddenly screams, sitting up on the bed in a hurry as he looks back at Martyn– he’s horrified, his hands shaking, almost falling under his weight and dropping him down on the bed. “W-we are not k-killing them! I thought we agreed t-to it!” 

Martyn startles, fins flared up straight. “Well– y-yeah, sure we did, but that was before! It b-broke your wing, Grian, why– what’s gotten into you?”

“Grian…” Mumbo whispers, eyes full of patient curiosity and worry. “What happened out there..?”

The Sunbird tenses, good wing fluffing in distress and fingers curling into the thin sheets on the bed. “I-I.. they…” He swallows, staring down at his own lap and biting his lip. His trembling only worsens.

“Gri..?” Scar gently coaxes.

Grian looks around the room, tense with visible tears in his eyes that he tries to hold in. Owen is still the closest Avian to him, so Grian reaches out to him with utter desperation, grabbing his hand and looking him in the eyes, trying to share the pain he witnessed. Trying to make at least someone understand.

“They.. They’re an Avian, Owen… Their wings– They took his wings,” Grian’s voice breaks, as his last drops of strength fail, the tears falling over. 

Owen recoils with a sharp, exhaled gasp, their own good wing immediately fluffing up with their own abrupt distress. “What? ” They croak.

“O-oh Gods–” Jimmy chokes, slapping a hand over his mouth and wrapping his free arm around his stomach. “Oh my Gods–”

Scar and Mumbo are pale. Acho and Apo glance at each other, horrified. Joel is at Jimmy’s side in an instant, holding up the poor Canary just before he starts falling. Martyn is frozen in his seat, wide eyes staring at Grian.

“H-how would you-?” Owen coughs, clearing away the break in her throat. “How d-do you know? What’d they do?”

“M-my wings,” Grian reminds him with his voice shaking. “Remember? They.. They were so shocked when they ripped my feathers out the first time, that’s why I suggested catching them, b-but.. They broke my wing.. They didn’t want to break it, Owen, I saw it. T-the way they looked at me and my wings, the hesitance behind their attacks, I–” Grian chokes back a sob, “I took a risk.. tried talking to them after I saw them hesitate.. Owen, Jimmy, the sound they made when they touched the feathers. They were so careful and.. and the chirp.. they chirped , they were so sad . They were so scared.”

Now Jimmy’s sobbing too, on his knees and held securely in Joel’s arms with a hand still over his own mouth. Owen doesn’t think she can breathe. It makes sense. Pieces fall into place in her head, it’s a logical explanation but Void–

He isn’t sure he’s breathing. He knows he’s squeezing Grian’s hand, that he’s shaking just as much as the Sunbird is, but he has no idea if he’s still breathing. He’s not sure he can. His instincts are screaming, he can hardly think straight.

“We aren’t killing them,” Mumbo says as firmly as they can, swallowing bile. “We aren’t. Alright? We’re sticking to the trap plan. I-if Grian got through to them once.. it stands to reason that it can happen again, d-don’t you think?”

Martyn grunts, but he doesn’t argue. He feels a little ill himself, if only because growing up with three Avians– two of which he’s traveled with for years now– has given him a healthy helping of empathy when it comes to wing trauma. It is awful, regardless of how much he hates Exor.

“..Yeah,” Acho whispers. “Y-yeah, I.. I definitely agree.”

“We’ll get it right next time,” Scar nods. It’s weak, and he’s still terribly pale, but it somehow still reads as confident.

“Hear that, Jim?” Joel whispers, rubbing his brother-in-law's back in careful circles, right between the wings. “We’re gonna help ‘em, alright?”

Jimmy doesn’t respond verbally, but he does nod, still shuddering with quiet sobs.

Grian also finally relaxes, his forehead against Owen’s hand in his grip. “Thank you,” he whispers, wiping away the tears.

Owen lets out a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose, and responding with shuddering breath. “Yeah.. we’ll do our best.”

She’s not ashamed to admit that she has been very uncertain about catching Exor, especially after they got their asses handed to them when they tried, but this.. This changed a lot, even for her. She knew STARR’s ideologies when it came to hybrids. He has been one of their victims for far too long, and just the idea of a poor hybrid suffering in their hands made her sick. Wings are sacred, they are important to every Avian, and losing them was a fate worse than death. Wings weren’t just additional limbs, they were an important part of their bodies that their lives depended on. 

How many times has their instinct told them to take up to the sky, but couldn’t? How many times did they feel the ache on their back, but wings were nowhere to be seen? Many times, probably. Too many times.

“Money.. We, ah, need money for more medical kits and other resources,” Owen speaks up, suddenly more nervous about speaking in front of the group. Previously Grian was completely out of it, Acho was there, and he bonded with Jimmy, the only potential “problem” being Martyn– but now, with more of Grian’s friends around, and the avian in question back conscious… 

“Ah! Right!” Jimmy exclaims, wiping away his tears, happy for the change of topic. “Owen suggested we check the city for the Guild or some type of income, to get more money for food and medical kits for each of us, considering what happened with Apo…”

“Yeah,” Scar murmurs, “It was a bit hard trying to navigate with everything I had, which was almost none. We just.. have never split up like that before, so I didn’t even think we’d need more…”

“It would be great to go get some money, yeah.. I think we passed some kind of News Board down on the street the first time we came here?” Joel adds, tilting his head. “We can check and then ask around.”

“Great! Owen?” Jimmy calls out, suddenly all the attention back to the Sparrow.

Owen almost chokes as she feels the pressure of their eyes on her, and she responds nervously. “Yeah.. Me, Grian and Martyn will have to visit Cordelia first, and..” She looks down toward Grian. He doesn’t look completely out of it, but she can tell he prefers staying quiet, and he still has that distress in his eyes. “I think it will be a good idea for us to have Jimmy around just in case, so he’s gonna stay with us at the Cleric’s. Scar, you can stay here with Apo, take care of her while Joel, Mumbo and Acho are in the city, okay?” 

“I’m getting better!” Apo suddenly declares to the team, despite laying down on the bed, where Grian was previously. “Just need to eat.. and hydrate.”

“Cordelia gave her a pretty solid potion,” Joel chuckles. 

Scar smiles at the Demon, and looking back at Owen, nods. “I’ll stay here, then.”

“Good,” Owen responds back with a grateful smile. He doesn’t know what happened with them, but the way Apo was clinging to the man and, as the others mentioned, asked Scar to carry her, he knows that she’s in good hands.

“Jimmy, we go then,” Owen tells the Canary, as she turns back to the Sunbird and helps him up, firmly holding his hand and keeping him balanced. She turns back to the team, “If something happens, let us know.” Receiving nods and affirmations, she faces Acho for the last time. 

Acho looks somewhat confused and yet proud, nodding his head, clearly acknowledging Owen’s sudden change in attitude. The Sparrow sighs, finally walking out of the hut with Grian by his side, as Jimmy and Martyn follow right behind them, all four of them taking a path down to the Cleric’s.

---

“We are getting three gold each, right?” Joel suddenly speaks up exhausted, his head popping out behind the counter. “Please tell me we aren’t doing so much for just three gold.”

“No, pretty sure it was each,” Mumbo reassures him, as he continues dusting the shelves, carefully taking down all the products, before sliding the wet cloth on the wood and then putting everything back. They didn’t find an actual Guild, but they did find a little Commission Board for the village, where villagers are free to pin the tasks they would pay others to do. Many of them included cleaning, taking pets out for a walk, helping on farms, and many, many more. 

While Joel and Mumbo got stuck cleaning up a little shop that belonged to an elderly couple, Acho picked up a few tasks for the farm, using their advantages in full with Acho agreeing to help with moving the animals around, with all the strength he got packed in his muscles and extra help from his magic. They got a new barn and the farmer family needed more hands to guide every single animal to their new home, and with the Fae’s high physical strength, it was not a problem. 

He had something to do in which he was good, while Joel and Mumbo got stuck with stupid chores. 

“Come on, Joel, it’s not so bad! It will take less time and then we can get another commission, and we might even get more money like this!” The Vampire tells him enthusiastically, looking down at him with a brightest smile. “Also, they promised us three gold and some food, so it’s a win-win!”

“Oh, they are getting so much food from the farm, I knew we should have picked those commissions first!” Joel whines, as he grumbly continues wiping the floors clean, Mumbo chuckling in the background. 

“Let’s quickly finish this up, and maybe we can take the community work. Pretty sure one of the commissions was about an event they are holding in the village tomorrow? One of the requirements in the paper was cooking and baking, you’re good with that stuff, maybe you can help them in the kitchen while I run around helping them with decorations!” Mumbo suggests, immediately noticing Joel perk up. 

“Yeah! I’m good in the kitchen! Lizzie calls me a Malewife!” Joel declares proudly, now suddenly more enthusiastic about chores. “You’re so right, Mumbo, actually, chores are good, we are smart for picking this!”

“Okay,” Mumbo says with a snort as he continues cleaning the remaining shelves, but suddenly the cloth from his hand drops, catching Joel’s attention.

“Mumbo?” The Red Panda calls out, narrowing his eyes, as Mumbo slowly walks toward the door. “Hey, where are you going, what’s going on?”

“Grian’s blood,” Mumbo responds, not adding any more explanation. His voice is cold, and slightly shaky, as he finally stands between the doorframe, looking up toward the roofs. 

Joel approaches him slowly, getting nervous every passing second, and the second he stands by his side and follows Mumbo’s eyes, his breath hitches. There’s a familiar figure perched on the roof, looking down at the shop. Exor is there, watching them, but not moving. 

“What.. what is it–?” Joel questions, his whole body tense, dropping into a position ready for a fight.

“I don’t think they’re planning on attacking us,” Mambo responds calmly. The previous shaking is nowhere to be heard, the Vampires voice cold and calculated. “I think they’re just.. watching. I wonder why.”

“Trying to catch us in some dirty, dark alleyway to finish us off? Trying to learn more about us to continue with his game of Cat and Mouse?” Joel suggests with sarcasm, rolling his eyes. “Definitely something to hurt us, I think.”

“Well.. yeah, I guess,” Mumbo whispers, as his eyes are still firmly on the dark figure. “They… They have Grian’s blood on their hand, I will smell it if they move closer, so I don’t think we have to worry but,” he wriggles his nose, clearly uncomfortable.

“Yeah, it’s not very nice smelling his blood like this, is it?” The Red Panda asks with a grimace. Turning back to the room. “Let’s finish this as quickly as possible, then. Tell me if it moves closer or farther away.”

“Yeah.. okay,” Mumbo mutters in response, as he also walks back in, reaching for the cloth on the floor.

---

“You boys jus’ can’t stop gettin’ inta trouble, can ya?” Cordelia grumbles the moment she opens the door. “Gods. Come in you four, lemme look atcha wings. Your ribs too, kid, re-breakin’ ‘em after I worked to fix ‘em, reckless kid…”

Owen smiles sheepishly, ducking his head as he leads the other two avians and the Siren inside after Cordelia. With some extra scolding and a bit of manhandling, he and Grian are seated side by side on one of the beds, with Jimmy seated awkwardly in a chair nearby and Martyn shuffling onto another bed with a lifted half, allowing him to recline somewhat comfortably.

“A’ight, when’d these two happen, eh?” Cordelia questions gruffly, examining the opposing wing injuries. She’s surprisingly gentle; only touches with ample warning, only shifts feathers when strictly necessary. Like she gets it.

“Mine was a few weeks ago..” Owen admits, winces at the deadpan that earns him. “H-his was early this morning. Right near sunrise.”

“How’d you get ‘em, ‘uh?” The woman asks, moving around to examine the backs of the injuries.

“I, er.. kind of got thrown into a tree..?” Owen chuckles nervously. “Hit my wing on said tree in just the wrong way, so..”

“..Got pressed on too hard,” Grian mutters, staring at his own lap in a daze.

“Hmph,” Cordelia grunts, sending a quick glance back to Martyn, and shaking her head with a heavy sigh. “S’pose any other questions I got ain’t professional. Gonna give you three some potions and yer gonna choke ‘em down, y’hear?”

“Loud and clear,” Owen nods with a strained smile. “Thank you, miss.”

“It’s mah job, kid, ain’t not’in’ y’need tah thank me for,” Cordelia waves away the gratitude, moving to her many brewing stands.

“K-kid-?”

“Yer in yah younger thirties, barely, I can damn well tell. Yer a kid.”

“Ah. U-understood.”

“Attaboy.”

Owen huffs, admittedly comforted by the lack of real coddling. She is just doing her job. It helps to let himself be cared for, knowing that. It was way too awkward with Jimmy. But the way Martyn giggles weakly at this little exchange between the two, makes the Sparrow turn a deep shade of red. He hasn’t been called a kid in a while.

“And ya?” Cordelia turns back to the giggling Siren, who immediately stops, wincing at her. “Follow me,” she declares.

“Wha–” Before Martyn can ask why, she darts out of the room, making the Siren groan and slowly stand up and follow her. 

“Pf, good luck,” Owen teases, Martyn answering him with a silently annoyed middle finger as he stumbles out of the room, leaving Owen, Grian and Jimmy alone.

As Owen waits for Cordelia and Martyn to come back with their potions, he turns to Grian. The Sunbird has been quiet the whole way here, despite the other three’s many attempts to invite him to their conversation. It was genuinely strange and terrifying seeing Grian like this. They haven’t known each other long enough for Owen to claim that he knew the man well, but from the time they spent together… yeah, this behavior was creeping him out. It was understandable and Owen could see where that reaction came from, he himself was very uncomfortable when Grian revealed the reason behind his troubles, but being there? Seeing and hearing all of that happen? No surprise that this reaction followed.

Maybe the reason why he’s so taken aback from this is… that Grian wasn’t as perfect as he thought. Thinking about it now, his insecurities because of Grian felt kinda silly, because at the end of the day, they are both traumatized adults trying to survive, aren’t they? He should have never held Grian that high up. He’s not their one and only pillar, holding up the whole team. He makes orders, but he’s just one of them. Just an Outsider, like everyone else.

“You feeling better, Grian?” He asks softly, tilting his head.

Grian blinks the haze from his own eyes, glancing at the Sparrow. “..A little, I suppose,” he mutters, voice hoarse after the basically double breakdown. “Sorry I.. for all that, I’m not.. I don’t handle these things well..”

“You don’t need to handle this, Grian. And you don’t need to apologize, really. I.. I get it,” Owen gently reassures the Sunbird.

“...It’s probably odd, innit?” Grian huffs bitterly. “Getting all.. protective over the guy that’s trying to kill us. Nearly did kill me, they could’ve.”

“..They didn’t, though,” Owen whispers, tilting his head knowingly. “You talked to them instead, and they responded, Grian. Maybe not favorably, but that’s more than any of us have got.”

“I’d hardly call it responding..” Grian hesitates. “B-but they did listen.. they heard me, Owen, they listened to me.. they’re not a monster.”

“Hardly anyone ever is,” Owen hums. “Most people are just.. victims of circumstance.”

Grian snorts. “When did you get so poetic?”

“I-I heard it in a book somewhere, hush, I’m trying to be comforting,” Owen whines, only half serious.

“Good luck with that one, mate,” Grian sniffs. “I’m allergic to being comforted, actually. Deadly.”

“Oh, is that so?” Owen grins. “Shame, that. S’pose you’ve gotta suffer, then.”

“S’pose so,” Grian nods sagely. 

“Couple ah jokesters, ‘uh?” Cordelia huffs, approaching the Avians with a potion in each hand, Jimmy trailing behind her. (When did he even leave? Huh..) “Drink all of it, ‘ere ya go.”

Owen takes the offered potion with a grateful nod, uncorking the bottle and fighting the desire to wrinkle his nose. Oh, that is not pleasant.

Cordelia notices anyway– because of course she does– but she just snorts. “Ya ain’t gonna like it, butcha better choke it down. Every last drop, boys, y’all gon’ heal best that way.”

“Yes ma’am,” Owen mumbles, taking a breath for courage, before tipping the bottle back and chugging. He has to fight a gag immediately– somehow it tastes worse than it smells. Choke it down, choke it down.

Cordelia probably noticed the way he was grimacing, her laughter was telling, but he decided to ignore it for a bit, finishing up the whole bottle in a single go. The way his whole body was almost spasming because of the terrible taste made it even worse. Grian was also shivering by his side, clearly as disgusted as Owen was. 

“This is– ohh ,” Grian puts his hand on his mouth, trying to fight the gag reflex, and it makes Owen cackle through his own pain. Jimmy laughs at them, sitting by the window and holding into his stomach, trying not to roll over.

“Is it that bad?” He asks, wiping away the tears.

“Why don’t you ask for a bottle and try it yourself,” Owen huffs, challenging the Canary. There's a responding eep! from Jimmy as he shakes his head.

“Nope, no thank you!”

“Nah, go on Tim, try one,” Grian snickers, discomfort forgotten in favor of teasing his friend. “See for yourself if it’s that bad, ay?”

“Nooo thanks! I’m good actually, I believe you!”

“Drink yer damn potion, Sunbird!” Cordelia scolds. “Quit yer stallin’!”

“Yes ma’am!” Grian squeaks, chugging the rest of his potion with plenty of shudders and noises of disgust.

Cordelia heaves a sigh. “A’right. Those potions are gonna do the numbin’ and the healin’ for ya, got it? It’s gonna be uncomfortable, but y’all keep yah damn wings in the damn splints for no less than a month, y’hear?”

“We hear!” Owen nods vigorously.

“Good,” the Cleric grunts. “Anythin’ else you lot need from me?”

Jimmy sits up straighter. “A-actually, miss, is there any way I could.. help you out around here? N-not necessarily as a job! I just.. I need to know more, I don’t have nearly enough medical experience for what we get into while journeying… I’d like to learn.”

Cordelia squints, giving the Canary a once-over. “Learn, ‘uh? A’right kid, I’ll teach ya some tricks. Come back down here at sunrise tomorrow– that’s when mah workday starts.”

Jimmy perks up, beaming. “Y-yes ma’am! Thank you!” 

Cordelia just grunts. “If that’s all, out with ya! Go get some rest, do not strain yer injuries!”

“Yes ma’am!” Owen salutes, but before he stands up to walk out of the hut, he halts for a second, looking around. “Wait, where’s Martyn? Ah– Cordelia?”

The woman in question looks back at him with a smirk, “Introduced him to someone. If the conversation went well, yer Canary friend isn’t tha only one to get a job around ‘ere,” she says, before walking out of the room.

The others exchange worried glances, but they decide to let it go. Martyn.. can take care of himself. Probably..

They pick up their backpacks with the new potions and leave the Cleric’s, quickly finding a path back to their little hut. But about halfway through the walk, Owen is stopped in his tracks by movement at the corner of his eye and up. His head tilts and– oh Void they’re in the village.

Exor is there, perched on an unlit chimney and watching them with the barest tilt of their head. Their right hand, even in the low light of early evening, very clearly has dried blood on it, and there’s a familiar feather sticking stubbornly to their wrist. They’re just.. watching. Crouching there and staring.  

“Uh..” he whispers, feet glued in place. 

“Oh yeah, it’s been here for a while,” Joel snorts, appearing behind Owen out of nowhere, Mumbo by his side.

“MOTHER OF THE DRAGON-!” Owen yelps, jumping a solid three feet in the air. “Oh my Gods you can’t startle a man like that!” 

“How long’s a while, exactly..?” Jimmy questions, very much ignoring Owen’s scare. The Canary glances at Grian, immediately concerned to see him staring back at Exor, unblinking.

“Uuhh– After we found the commission board and went to this shop for a clean up? Yeah, Mumbo kinda.. smelled Grian’s blood? And we found it just sitting there on the roof in front of the shop. It didn’t move the whole time we were inside and then just started following us after we left, but it didn’t even try attacking us, so we have no idea what it’s doing,” Joel quickly explains, as his eyes don’t leave the familiar dark figure.

“Kinda creepy..” Mumbo whispers, moving closer to Grian. Poor guy was messed up after smelling Grian’s blood for so long. A terrible feeling.

Exor’s head tilts just slightly more, and they’re still for another few seconds– but in a blink, they’ve bolted the opposite direction and into the trees surrounding the village, out of sight in about two seconds.

“Void they’re fast,” Owen hisses. “They really could catch us anytime, couldn’t they?”

“..They don’t want to,” Grian mutters. “They aren’t playing. They don’t want to catch us.”

“Oh?” Mumbo turns back to Grian, confused. “What do you mean they don’t want to catch us?”

“If not catch, my first thought goes to ‘kill’ but.. I’m guessing they’re not trying to kill us either, right?” Joel grimaces, his tail uncomfortably swinging behind his back, as a sign of distress.

Grian slowly shakes his head. “They could’ve.. At any point, they could’ve killed or captured me.. They had me pinned to the ground with a broken wing, I couldn’t move. They had every opportunity to do whatever they wanted and they didn’t. ”

“But why?” Jimmy asks softly. “Why continue to chase us and just.. not do anything?”

“...They don’t want to go back,” Grian whispers, still staring at the spot Exor disappeared from.

“To STARR?” Owen guesses, sending a pointed look toward the trees Exor bounced to. This.. made sense, they are running away from STARR after all, why wouldn’t Exor do the same? Despite being one of the dogs, because he doesn’t think the people called ‘Dogs’ there are actually treated as human beings. And honestly? They way Exor walks, talks, growls– yeah, that’s definitely not signs of them being treated like a human. 

“Right,” Grian breathes. “They’re watching us, chasing after us, but they aren’t doing anything more than harming us. Certainly not as lethally as they could. Because the second they do what they were told to do, they have to go back. And they don’t want to.”

“So they’re dragging it out..” Jimmy mumbles. “The longer they do, the longer they stay away… It makes sense… ”

Owen bites down his lip, as he continues staring in the direction of the forest. “Maybe.. Then maybe we don’t have to catch them, yet? Maybe we give them another few days.. Or weeks, and just.. show them? That they can be safe with us, you know..” He turns back to Grian, determination in his eyes. “You said they started listening because of your wings.. Maybe me, you and Jimmy have an actual chance to get their attention? To show them that they can approach us, and when they do.. We can just.. Not exactly trap them, but I don’t think they will stay without any problems, you can’t erase years of training just like that, but.. We can hold them for a bit, until they start feeling human again.”

Grian exhales a shaky, relieved sigh. “..Yeah. I like that plan. Let’s.. Let’s do it.”

“We should explain this to the others too, right..?” Jimmy hesitates. “I totally agree too..! I-I just don’t think Martyn’ll like it..”

“I’ll talk to him,” Mumbo smiles encouragingly. “If nothing else, I may be able to convince him to go along with it, even if he doesn’t agree. I certainly agree– it’s a solid plan, Owen.”

Owen goes slightly red, as he turns away with an awkward cough. “Yeah.. thanks, Mumbo.” Jimmy quietly snorts, patting him on the shoulder. 

“Okay, and what if I don’t approve of this, do I still have a choice? Does my opinion count here or–?” Joel asks with a deadpan, raising his hand.

“Nope!” Jimmy chirps. “It’s happening and you’re going along with it! Sorry not sorry!”

Grian snickers, glancing at Joel. “Your opinion counts, and you can disapprove, but only if it’s a valid excuse to do so. None of the refusal out of spite, or refusing because you just don’t like it, okay? Even you can’t deny that they need help, you’ve seen the same things we have.”

Joel furrows his brows, his hand still in the air. “Uh– Multiple attempts on our life? Breaking your and Owen’s wings? Tearing my blummin’ face open? Apo’s concussion? Martyn’s and your face scratches? Martyn’s broken ribs? Literally walking around with your blood on its hands? Breaking our weapons, running us in circles– do I honestly need to continue?”

“Oh, come on, we talked about this!” Jimmy whines. 

Grian just huffs, nodding along. “All.. understandable criticisms. That’s why we’re still going to be careful about it, alright? You heard Owen– we don’t need to just let them loose, they won’t stay without issue so we do still need to restrain them somehow. We just.. won’t trap them. We’ll let them watch while we’re here, us three will try and talk to them, is that a good enough compromise?”

Joel just sighs heavily, rubbing his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, but I’m not helping with Martyn, good luck Mumbo!”

“Great!” Jimmy chirps, “Now.. Where is Martyn?” He wonders out loud, making Mumbo jerk up and look around, tense.

“You’re right, where is he? Wasn’t he with you? Where did he go? Is he still at the Cleric’s? Is it worse that we thought? Is he–” He starts panicking, but Owen interrupts him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Ah, Cordelia said something about introducing him to someone?” He answers nervously, while the Vampire looks back at him with a frown.

“Introduce him to someone?” He sputters, while Joel cackles in the background.

“Oh wow, catching your man cheating red handed?” He jokes, his hand on Mumbo’s other shoulder, who looks back at him with a dramatic gasp.

“For a job,” Owen says with his own giggle, patting the Vampire on his shoulder and moving away.

“He just broke his ribs again, isn’t it a bit early for him to get a job?” Mumbo questions, once again nervous. 

“Eh, Cordelia knows what she’s doing, she wouldn’t set him up for something Martyn won’t be able to do,” the Sparrow explains with a shrug, while the Vampire sighs heavily behind him.

Just then, there’s a loud rustling from the trees, and Exor seems to materialize right back where they were– perched on the chimney, watching the five of them. Only difference? Their right hand is now slowly dripping water at the fingertips, clean of blood and feathers.

“..Well I’ll be damned,” Owen whispers, now proper wide-eyed.

Grian huffs a disbelieving laugh. “Did they seriously..? N-no way, right?”

Jimmy gapes. “D-did.. Did they clean their hand so the smell wouldn’t upset Mumbo..?”

Mumbo gaped at Exor, his eyes darting from their face to their hand in utter confusion. “I– It was kinda making me nauseous, recognizing the smell and getting reminded how it got there, they just– woah… Huh?”

Joel tilts his head staring at the Exor while frowning. “I thought it just dipped but it came back to stare at us from a very visible place.. Yeah it’s like it wants us to see it, I guess it maybe… decided that blood wasn’t needed to track us down, considering how it’s just… there. That’s strange, I know why we are changing our tactics, but it.. Did the talk with Grian really affect it that much, that it’s trying to be closer with us?”

“I don’t know,” Grian huffs with a grin, giddy. “But I knew it. They’re not all gone, they can think, they’re in there somewhere.”

“..Should we try talking to them..?” Owen mutters with a tilt of her own head.

“Er.. m-maybe..? We might wanna wait ‘till tomorrow, though…” Jimmy fidgets with his fingers.

“I-I kinda want to try again,” Grian whispers, hesitant. His talon shifts, as if ready to step forward. “Should I..?”

Owen hums, giving it a thought. “I.. Yeah, I think you should. Not alone, though, it will be better to have someone around just in case…”

“Us?” Jimmy questions nervously.

“Yeah, preferably,” is Owen’s answer.

“Tomorrow,” Joel argues, visibly uncomfortable, “Let’s do that tomorrow… It’s getting late, Martyn and Acho are probably gonna come back soon, I think we should talk to them first before doing anything. And Scar and Apo also need to hear this, so..”

“..Right,” Grian sighs. “Tomorrow. Yeah. Once everyone’s on the same page…”

“..I really hope Martyn either doesn’t see them or they leave before he has the chance to…” Jimmy grimaces. “Can’t see it ending well if he does see them.”

“Guess we’ll see,” Owen groans. “C’mon then, let’s get to the hut. We have some things to explain and a more solid plan to make.”

Grian hums, satisfied, as he follows the group back into the hut, wondering and hoping for the future.

---

“I SAID STOP!”  Martyn exclaims, whipping his head around and staring down at the stupid teenager throwing rocks at him, but once again regretting his stupid decision, as he coughs more. God damnit . He’s not one for hitting kids, and the farmers– parents of said kid– are not around to keep him in check, both running around with Acho while their kid looks over the farm’s field, explaining to Martyn where to guide the water. Well, that’s what he’s supposed to be doing, instead of throwing things at his head! 

Honestly, when Cordelia introduced him to Mary– who ended up at hers after an incident on the farm– he thought he got the easiest job ever. He doesn’t need to actually move around, so he can rest his bones, and his little bottles of potions are secured on his belt, so he can take them every half an hour as Cordelia instructed– but nooo , this kid just had to make his job here worse. He makes the Siren want to scream but he can’t if he wants his lungs and ribs to survive, oh well.

“I told ya that ya are doin’ it wrong, and yet yer not listenin’ to me! It’s like ya don’t even want tha money my parents want to pay ya! Is it that hard to follow my orders?!” The teenager complains, both hands on hips, as he glares down at Martyn. 

He might not want to hit the kid physically, but he oh so wants to send all the water to his face as a geyser, that would be a lesson in manners. “Listen Berny–”

“It’s Barney,” he jumps in, correcting the Siren.

“I just said that!”

“Oh my god, yer impossible,” Barney whines, rubbing his eyes. “I knew sometimes Sirens were vicious and stubborn, but–”

“Well isn’t that incredibly racist?” Martyn scoffs, glaring at him with crossed arms over his chest. He lets out a heavy sigh, wincing at the pain in his chest, before he turns around and continues doing what he was hired for: moving the freaking water.

He closes his eyes, reaching for the sensation, for the tingle under his fingers, and quickly pulling until the water starts making its way through the handmade mud paths. He is immediately pulled out of his moment with another set of yelling.

“Ya are gonna overflow tha whole farm, idiot! How many times should I explain this to ya so it settles into yer thick skull?!” Barney’s voice carries almost all over the field, making Martyn shudder in pure anger. 

“I’m not overflowing the farm! I’m doing a perfect job, thank you very much! This is what I do !” The Siren wheezes back, this time not facing the kid, because next time he turns around, all the water is sending Barney flying. He holds his hand against his mouth, as he fights off another round of coughing, because Aether knows if he starts now, he might cough up his lungs.

“What is yer issues with anger, I swear to tha Dragon! Ya have been so pissed since you came, don’t yell at me, or I’m tellin’ my parents and they are cuttin’ out some of tha coins from tha deal!” 

“And you think by t-telling me that, you are calming– down my anger? You just threatened m-my honest work reward!” Martyn argues, as the water he has been guiding bursts, definitely harming some of the growth around the area. Are those carrots?

“Not much of an honest, if ya can’t do tha work!” Barney cries out, standing on tiptoes and looking in the direction of the damage made. “Yer destroyin’ tha crops!”

“Because you are m-messing with my concentration!” Seriously, Martyn feels like exploding right there and then, and just taking down all of the farm with him, because he does not have patience for this.

“There was no concentration inside yer thick skull in tha first place, Marten!” 

“It’s Martyn!”

“Annoyin’, ain’t it?!”

The Siren inhales sharply, a sharp stinging pain in his chest, as his hands shake out of anger. He slowly turns around to face the teen, gritting his teeth against the spikes of pain in his ribs. “Okay.. Okay, what do you want? What can I d-do to make you stop?”

Barney rolls his eyes, mocking him. “Ya sound like yer tha victim here, yer not. I’ve been tryin’ to talk to ya since you came, and yet ya ignore me and then yell at me when I try to get yer attention!”

“By throwing rocks at me?” Martyn asks, raising his eyebrow.

“Yuh!” Barney answers without any hesitation. “Crops are delicate, Martyn, ya don’t treat them like this! Ya say it’s how ya do, but it’s not how ya do in a farm! I don’t care what needs that treatment, but it’s not tha crops!

“Yeah, and how s-should I treat my water– then, oh almighty know-it-all?” Martyn asks, annoyed. 

“It’s not about tha watah! It’s about tha crops!” Barney cries, his hands flying up in frustration, very close to pulling out his dark curls. “Watah is supposed to be flexible! When it’s in tha ocean, go wild! Be angry! Tha river falling from tha mountain? Be fast, be cold! But when it comes to tha crops, ya need care, Martyn! Stop pulling on ya powers so aggressively, hopin’ that tha farm will be fine, because it won’t! Not everythin’ is suitable for such treatment, some things need more love and care! So can ya just listen to me for a second, so we can actually do somethin’?”

“I–” The Siren is taken aback, as he gapes at Barney, like a fish freshly out of the water. He feels the stupid sensation of guilt growing somewhere under his skin, and it makes him sick– so he turns back toward the field, not looking at Barney anymore. “Okay.. Just– Just tell me what to do.”

“Finally!” Barney grumbles, as his hands fall down to his hips. “Let’s start this over, yuh? Do it slowly , feel tha water and guide it through. Try to keep it delicate with every twist and turn, tha corners are always easiest to ruin. Be patient with it, and tha patience will take ya far, and give ya the best crops in the process.” 

Martyn hums, feelings the sweat running down his forehead, but he tries to keep calm. He pulls on the sensation once again, and this time does it more elegantly, guiding the water throughout the path. It takes more time than he thought initially, but slowly and steadily, the water finally reaches the whole field. Barney grins, as he turns around, an exhausted Martyn following behind him as they stumble toward the barn.

Notes:

Yayy another longer chapter! We're hoping chapters will be consistently longer starting here, thanks to a side project Ann and I have been working on that's getting us more writing practice. Hope you enjoyed this week's chapter!

Chapter 10: You’re a snake, you’re a snake, I can see it in your face

Notes:

Chapter CW/TW: Dehumanization, mentions of blood and death, fantasy racism

Chapter title is from “Snakes” by PVRIS & MIYAVI

!!Hover mouse over glitchy text for a boxed translation! (Mobile/Tablet users should see End Notes)

Martyn knows one thing– Exor is one creepy fucker. It’s somehow creepier as a stalker than an assassin.

He had not been happy when Grian and Owen had brought up the idea of– eugh, he wants to gag just thinking about this– befriending it. He gets that it’s got some sort of tragic backstory, and he does feel some level of empathy for the whole stolen wings thing; he did grow up with a Canary for a best friend, he’s not cruel. He just doesn’t see why that means they should go trying to make friends with the thing. It was trying to kill them! Hesitance or not, that was its goal, and sooner or later it would go through with that goal. It’s toying with them, that’s it.

Regardless of his feelings, unfortunately, he was very outnumbered on the matter. Joel seemed to be the only one on his side, the only one with sense. Eight to two votes, though? That means he now gets to move through the village doing his job on the farm with a demon watching him, and he can’t do shit about it. Can’t threaten it, can’t attack it, can’t even glare at it– for Dragon’s sake, it’s infuriating! It just sits there, on rooftops or in trees, and watches him.

The only decent part of this– frankly ridiculous– situation is that Exor doesn’t just watch him. It moves around the village instead, and according to the others over this past week, everyone has spotted it at least once per day. It spends most of its time around Grian; that isn’t too strange, it was targeting him while it was chasing them, and that just annoys and worries Martyn more. What’s it doing keeping such a close eye on Grian? Is it still plotting? It must be, Grian’s been its primary target from the start, it’s playing the long game and that’s pissing Martyn off.

It doesn’t help that Grian is so.. protective of it. Martyn swears, it’s been a week since the separation incident– two weeks since Exor first appeared– and the Sunbird gets more anxious for Exor by the day. He talks to it, completely casually, just goes about everyday life and talks to it like it’s an old friend. Exor never responds– if it did, Grian would definitely gush about it, so yes he’s certain– but that doesn’t seem to deter him. If anything it just makes the stubborn Avian more determined.

He’s started leaving food out for the thing. Just a little at first, because regardless of how much he suddenly cares about STARR’s dog, they only have so much food to spare. But then Exor started taking the food. Martyn isn’t sure if it eats the stuff or tosses it, but it takes it, and that just made things worse. Suddenly Grian was making daily visits to the village’s Butcher for the extra meat they always had, paying a couple copper pieces per day for a slab of whatever’s prepared and unused to give to Exor. The food’s always gone when Grian checks next, and he always gets abnormally happy about it.

Don’t get him wrong, Martyn is glad to see Grian so happy, especially considering his broken wing. Wing injuries are rough, and exactly no one had been expecting the Sunbird to be in such high spirits after breaking a wing. Martyn just really wishes that his joy wasn’t coming from getting so close to the thing that was trying to kill them literally a week ago, and gave Martyn two broken ribs.

The Siren isn’t entirely sure what Grian’s deal is. Sure, he gets that the man’s upset about Exor’s wings being stolen– Martyn’s not a monster, he knows that’s awful to find out and to experience, and he wouldn’t wish it on anyone. But even Owen and Jimmy weren’t being this.. weird about Exor. They were empathetic, yes, and made their own small attempts to speak to Exor, but they weren’t practically mother-henning the thing like Grian was. Exor broke his wing, he should be just as pissed about this as Martyn is! Maybe even more pissed! 

Now he’s slowly walking back to the hut, and he’s already annoyed as hell because Exor is there. It’s on a tree right by their hut, sitting on a branch, and staring at Grian. The Sunbird is sitting on the roof, casually talking to it with his legs crossed and a friendly smile on his face. He is.. way to close to Exor for comfort actually, fuck.  

“Grian get down from there,” Martyn groans, keeping most of his cautious attention on Exor.

“I’m good up here,” Grian chirps, turning enough for Martyn to read his lips. Just in case. “We’re talking, Martyn.”

“You’re talking,” the Siren argues. “ It’s sitting there like a creep.”

“They are listening, thank you very much,” Grian scowls. “They don’t need to talk. Not if they don’t want to.” Then Grian turns and says something at a more normal volume, obviously directed at Exor because he knows Martyn can’t hear him at a regular volume that far. Curse his partial deafness. Ugh. 

Martyn tsks, sending a fleeting glare at Exor– that it doesn't react to, typical– before walking inside with a grumble. Jimmy and Owen are inside, speaking in low tones with Jimmy looking over the Sparrow’s still-healing wing. The Canary had apparently been learning a lot from Cordelia, and had taken it upon himself to do check-ups on the other two avians’ broken wings. Martyn’s proud of him– the man’s needed some confidence in his medic abilities for a while now, and Cordelia’s gruff but surprisingly patient teachings have been doing wonders for him.

Even better, she’d apparently been paying him for his help with patients. While not much, it was still adding a great deal of money to their steadily growing stockpile. Owen’s plan was working even better than expected.

“How’s it going, Tim, Owen?” He grunts, flopping onto the closest seat.

“Slow day,” Jimmy admits with an amused huff. “Technically a good thing! Cordelia taught me about sutures today.”

“Oh? Sounds helpful,” Martyn hums.

“I’m not very good at it yet, but it’ll be a useful skill once I get the hang of it!” Jimmy chirps.

“Wing’s healing fine,” Owen mutters, flexing his wing with only a small wince. “Those potions do wonders. Almost makes the taste worth it.”

“Ugh, they’re nasty,” Martyn agrees with a shudder. “I’m glad I’m finally off of them, they were terrible.”

The Sparrow sighs, looking back at another potion on the floor by his side. “Is Grian still up there? He should drink his before it’s too late.”

“Yeah,” Jimmy nods, reaching down for the bottle. “The sun is setting soon. Usually it wouldn’t be a problem with a Healing potion, but it’s mixed with Strength, so it’s gonna keep him up tonight if he drinks it late…”

“Yeah, you give him that, I’m gonna go lay down,” Martyn says with a snort, as he moves toward his mat and gently flops down on it with a slight wheeze, dropping his backpack nearby. Owen looks back at him unamused, raising a brow, making him groan. 

“What?” He asks, irritated. “I’m not going out there, so you either wait for him to come back, or take the potion to him yourself.”

Owen exhales heavily, rubbing her eyes. “You really don’t want to be around them, do you?” 

Martyn pulls himself up on his elbows, looking at the Sparrow as if he asked the most ridiculous question in existence. “What do you think? I was against all of this, I still don’t understand why you all are so calm about this!”

Jimmy chuckles nervously, as he plays with the potion in his hands, looking at the door. “I think you’re kinda wrong there, Martyn, I think the only one calm in this situation is Grian. Me personally? I’m terrified of them. They were at the Clerics today for like two hours, just watching me, and it creeps me out, but I think.. It’s not so bad?”

“Not–? Not so bad? You just said that it creeps you out! It is creepy as fuck, why are we dealing with it?” Martyn exclaims, rising even higher and immediately wincing slightly.  

Jimmy yelps, waving his hands around as he gets defensive. “Well! It might be a bit creepy, but they haven’t done anything, right? They listen to Grian! T-that’s good! They.. they’re still a person, you know?” His voice turns into a low whisper, as he looks away from the Siren. “I don’t think they chose this life… And if we can somehow help them, I think it’s worth it…” 

Martyn grunts, as he falls back down, he’s about to turn around and ignore the rest of the possible conversation when Jimmy immediately jumps back in. “But honestly, I got enough Exor-dose today in those two hours, so you should take this to Grian, yes,” he pushes the potion forward, looking down at Martyn with a nervous smile.

Owen snorts in the background, turning away and pretending as if he’s not here, also throwing Martyn under the carriage. 

“Seriously?” The Siren deadpans, looking up at the Canary. “And what if I say no?”

Jimmy pulls the potion back, holding it at his chest with a pout, as he sighs heavily and so dramatically, and turns around toward the door. 

“Oh, you’re kidding me,” Martyn groans loudly, slowly pushing himself up to his feet, as he moves to Jimmy and yanks the bottle out of his hands. “You owe me one!” He calls back, closing the door behind him with a loud bang. 

Leaving the hut, he looks up at the roof, noticing that the duo isn’t visible from this angle, so he sighs and moves to the giant rock on the side that allows you to easily climb up. With a little struggle because of the bottle in his hand and his previously broken pair of ribs, he finally climbs up, seeing Grian perched on the roof and chatting in excitement with Exor, still sitting high up in the tree. He huffs at that, taking just a few steps closer.

“Grian? Got your potion,” Martyn says, extending the bottle toward him.

The Sunbird glances at Martyn, a smile plastered onto his face as he reaches to take the potion. “Ah, thanks Martyn! Forgot about this…”

Exor’s head tilts slightly, and it’s only now obvious that they look.. different. Their hood is down, for one, allowing their full head of long, dulled cyan hair to be on full display, as well as the black antler-like horns jutting out from under their hairline. Their goggles are also missing, leaving their dark blue right eye– and medical eyepatch over the left– out in the open. The visible eye’s sclera is black, and the pupil is slit, which is just plain freaky.  

They’re squinting slightly at the potion in Grian’s hand, though the rest of their face is perfectly neutral. They seem to simply be analyzing the bottle and its contents.

“It’s a Healing potion,” Martyn states, snarling at Exor. “For the wing you broke, Fucker.”

Exor just blinks, unphased by the tone or insult. Grian, though, hisses.

“Stop it,” the Sunbird growls. “It was an accident. They didn’t mean to, Martyn, they just landed on it. They weren’t being bloody malicious!”

“Ah, right sorry,” Martyn responds with a fake worry. “I meant the wing it broke on accident while trying to fucking kill you, Add to that my ribs it definitely broke on purpose,” he growls back, followed by a wheeze. Yes, his ribs healed a bit by now, it’s easier to heal them than the wing bones– that requires far too much magic to heal in a week– but sometimes it’s still hard to breathe.

“Martyn,” Grian snarls. “Stop it. I don’t expect you to like or tolerate them, but stop being an asshole.”

“Me being an asshole is complementary to the ‘not tolerating’ part, can’t change that,” Martyn says, crossing his arms over his chest, as he looks back up at the dog. “Also, in my opinion, if it really wants to hang around and be friendly with us, it should also acknowledge what it did, I’m not hurting it, am I? Just pointing out important information it should remember.”

Exor blinks again, not a hint of emotion in their eye or a twitch in their expression. They do look very pointedly at Grian’s bandaged wing, though.

Grian scoffs, good wing fluffed in agitation. “Just.. go, Martyn. Thanks for the potion, I’m staying up here.”

Martyn looks down at Grian with a frown, sending a glance back to Exor, and standing there in silence for a second, debating. He was planning to rest, after a long day of work in the city, and was very against bringing this stupid potion in the first place, but now that he’s here…

“Nope,” he says, as he sits down on the roof, staring back at the dog. “I want to hear what you’ve been telling it, also, it's getting late, and I don’t want to leave you out alone like this; so I’m gonna stay here, if you don’t mind.”

Grian sighs. Heavily. “Fine. But if you’re gonna sit there you’re either going to be quiet or you’re going to be civil, alright? I will toss you off this roof.”

Martyn pulls out a little knife, stabbing it through the wood on the roof, while not breaking eye contact. “You can try.” It’s an empty threat, Grian knows it. Martyn’s not gonna actually stab him– but it’s a warning that no, he’s not gonna promise that, and if Grian tries anything, he will fight him.

Grian glares, but any retort he has is swiftly interrupted by a rumble from Exor. Not quite a growl, but definitely something agitated, deep in their throat. They’re squinting at the knife now.

Grian huffs, apparently unbothered and unconcerned. “Empty words, bud, don’t mind him. He knows better than to stab me, I promise.”

Martyn is actually taken by surprise because of that reaction. Did it actually just growl at him for threatening the guy it tried to kill just a week ago? Tried to kill multiple times? How the fuck did Grian manage that? He has been talking to it less than a week, and here it was, getting protective over him? It made Martyn frown uncomfortably. He… doesn’t like this.

Grian’s attention has been fully swayed now, no longer concerned with scolding Martyn. Instead, between sips of his potion– and it needs to be sips because he will throw it up otherwise– he talks to Exor. He talks about, frankly, nonsensical things. He talks about home, his sister, his friends, he even mentions Evo. Exor listens, they sit there so attentively while the Sunbird rambles and it’s blatantly obvious that they aren’t zoning out for even a second. They’re listening. 

Martyn shifts, already regretting his choice of staying here. This all just felt.. wrong, somehow. He didn’t like that Grian was telling such important, personal stuff to STARR’s dog. He didn’t like the way it actually listened, clearly keeping all of that information in mind. Can any of this be used against them? It gives him such an icky feeling. He shouldn’t be here, but Grian shouldn’t be telling this stuff to Exor in the first place.

Then, when he finishes his potion and sets it aside, Grian totally switches gears. “Now that I can use both hands, I was wondering- Well, I suppose I should ask first, do you know sign language?”

Exor blinks, tilting their head again, almost like a curious puppy. Then they shake their head, their first genuine reaction in the conversation.

Grian grins. “Would it be okay if I taught you? Then we could have actual conversations, if you wanted! I know you don’t like talking, so that way you wouldn’t need to!”

Exor blinks again, squinting. They glance at the Sunbird’s bandaged wing again, then at his hands, before nodding very slowly.

“This blows my fucking mind,” Martyn whispers horrified, both from the fact that Exor actually shook his head, and from the fact that Grian wants to teach it how to sign. Is.. Is it actually gonna communicate back with them with sign language? “Grian, are you sure about this?” He asks, looking back at the Parrot with a deep frown.

Grian nods firmly, eyes still on Exor with that oh so soft smile. “I’m sure. Martyn, they tried speaking to me yesterday. Their voice has got that layering thing going on, yeah? They don’t like it, so this is the next best thing!”

“It tried to talk to you?” Martyn asks, flinching. “What did it say?”

Grian hesitates, glancing at the Siren for a moment. “...They did apologize. For my wing.” The Parrot’s voice is about as soft as he knows he can make it while still allowing Martyn to hear.

“Ah..” Martyn bites down on his lip, turning away from both Grian and Exor. It actually apologized.. Martyn doesn’t like what he’s feeling right now. Where is his apology? That Fucker broke two of his ribs, and then re-broke them just two or three days later. He huffs, but doesn’t say any more, sitting in silence, and allowing the one-sided conversation to continue.

Grian literally starts giving an impromptu sign language lesson right then and there; he shows Exor the alphabet, and Exor copies him. Their claws flash for a reason other than attacking. It’s clearly a bit rough on them, and they’re surprisingly expressive while making slow, shaky shapes with their hands. They squint, slightly purse their lips, bite their cheek, stick their tongue out, all while carefully copying Grian’s signs. The Parrot looks elated, especially when they catch on and memorize the signs so quickly– in just a couple of hours, they’re slowly signing names and basic vocabulary, and they look.. happy.  

The sun had set probably half an hour ago now. Martyn continued sitting there in silence, just watching the two, also trying to catch some of the signs. He never actually learned sign language, wasn’t much of a need back then, but with his partially impaired hearing, maybe it would be good to learn… He misses some of the signs, forgets some others, and wants to rip his hair out every time the two use a sign Grian already showed before, but he doesn’t recognize. But he doesn’t want to ask , not when Grian is teaching Exor , how will that look? He doesn’t want Grian to think that he’s doing it for the dog, but he never asked about it before… 

He ends up just sitting there, trying to memorize as much as he can while the two aren’t watching him, not even risking the repetition of the signs. 

At some point, finally, it starts getting too dark to properly teach something so visual, so Grian draws the impromptu lesson to a close. However, he does ask one more thing. “..Do you have a different name, by any chance? I know Exor is your title, but do you.. have a name? ”

Exor looks a little confused at the question, just as small of an expression change as the others but still visible. Their pointed ears twitch thoughtfully, and if they had a tail it would probably be doing that little flick that Apo’s does when she’s thinking too hard. Finally, they slowly fingerspell, ‘C-O-N-F-U-S-E-D.’

Grian softens. “That’s okay, don’t worry about it, alright? I can keep calling you Exor.”

Exor nods, but they still look thoughtful. Then they huff, glance in the same direction the sun set a while ago, and bolt into the trees before anything else can be said.

Martyn flinches with Exor moving so fast, reaching for the knife, but then just blinks, watching the dog disappear behind the trees. “Huh..” he murmurs, standing up with his knife in hand. “I wonder where it goes at night,” he says to no one, just wondering himself, as he turns back to Grian. “So?”

Grian hums, rising to his talons and staring out at the trees. “..Let’s just go inside,” he finally mutters, moving and hopping down the rocks in silence.

Martyn follows him in silence for a bit, before they move closer to the door and he asks, “Does this happen every night? It just.. runs away as the night comes?”

“Most nights, yeah,” Grian shrugs. “Some nights I go inside first, and they either leave or stay there, I dunno. They’re always back up there when I get up in the morning and usually follow me to my first task of the day. Curious fella.”

“Fell–” Martyn huffs, shaking his head, as he moves in front of the door first and opens the door for them, noticing that others also came back. They probably saw Grian and Martyn on the roof with Exor, but no one stopped to chat. Agh.

Grian shrugs again. “They get confused enough when I call them a them, not gonna call them a him just yet. But fella feels right, I s’pose. Just wish they didn’t get better to the objectification you and Joel do, it’s.. disturbing. And a little sad, I wish you’d stop.”

“I’ll stop when it starts acting like a real person,” Martyn whispers bitterly, taking his shoes off and moving back to his mat, ignoring people around staring.

Grian just sighs, moving to sit with Scar. He knows he can’t fight Martyn on this. Mumbo grazes Martyn’s hand with one of their own as he passes, face pinched in concern. “Sit with me?”

Martyn stops in his tracks, turning back to Mumbo as he sighs heavily, and with a nod he sits down next to his boyfriend. “This is all just stupid,” he murmurs, moving closer and making their shoulders touch. 

Mumbo hums, resting their chin on his shoulder in practiced instinct, ensuring he can hear their gentle tone easily. “Talk to me, darling. What is it about them that agitates you so much?” Perfect, perfect Mumbo has no judgement, nor admonishment, in their tone. Just a soft curiosity, a desire to understand.  

“The– The whole situation! That’s what agitates me!” Martyn hisses quietly, looking back at Mumbo, looking both agitated and confused. “I don’t understand why we’re doing this! I know you all pity it, but it tried to kill us multiple times! We never did this same shit with other assassins, and they weren’t even this dangerous, so why is it that we are playing ‘friends’ with Exor? It can easily snap our necks without full pressure, sometimes I think we are just, I don’t know– just some paper easy to rip apart for it! It worri–” Martyn's eyes widen, as he snarls and looks down at the floor, hands over his knees, hugging them closer with a low wheeze.

Mumbo brushes a kiss to the Siren’s cheek. “Baby, you’re allowed to be worried,” he whispers. “I’m worried. I’m not quite as.. passionate about it as you and Joel, but I’m terrified, Martyn. Because you’re right! They could hurt us, kill us, so easily, and one of the people I’m closest to on this entire planet sits on a roof and talks to them every day! We’re all scared, no one disagrees with you except for Grian. We’re scared, we’re worried, we’re anxious. It’s allowed.”

“It doesn’t feel like it,” he whispers, his voice dangerously soft, as he falls to his side, his cheek landing on Mumbo’s shoulder. “You should try being as passionate, you’re passionate about so many things, but now.. It feels like everyone is against me, I don’t like this.”

The Vampire hums, kissing just under his boyfriend’s ear. “No one is against you. Not even Grian, you know that. We just… Exor is a person. A messy, dangerous person, but a person. It’s not about being against you, and I seriously doubt anyone’s going anywhere near them as quickly as Grian has. Grian’s just nuts, you’ve known that since you met him,” Mumbo chuckles softly. “It’s more about.. knowing that, somehow, for reasons beyond even me, they don’t want to do what they were doing. Something– someone has forced their hand, and they’re rebelling the only way they know how. It’s not pity, darling, it’s empathy. And I promise you that it is okay that you don’t like them. It is okay that you can’t see them as anything but the thing that tried to kill us, that hurt us. No one is asking you to– except Grian because, again, that man is insane. They did. They hurt you, Martyn, you still wheeze a lot and stumble sometimes. They broke Owen and Grian’s wings, ripped feathers from Grian’s, hurt Jimmy, gave Joel one hell of a facial scar, gave Apo a concussion. They’ve hurt us. You are allowed to not accept it, I promise. All that’s being asked of you is to give Grian a chance to let them feel like a person. Even they deserve that, don’t they?”

Martyn stays silent for a second, as he lifts his head off Mumbo's shoulder and looks him in the eyes. He sighs heavily, as he cups Mumbo’s cheek in his hand, and closes the distance between them, connecting their lips. It doesn’t last long, just an exhausted quick kiss, Martyn’s head dropping back on his boyfriend’s shoulder with a groan. “I hate how you always find a way to put me in my place, who gave you this power?” He murmurs with a quiet, soft chuckle. “You’re right, I– I’ll try, just… need some time.”

Mumbo chuckles, giving the Siren an indulgent kiss to his hair. “I’m your boyfriend, love, the power comes in the package.” Then he softens, brushing his fingers through long blonde hair and fidgeting with the black bandana. “You can take as much time as you need, dear. I understand. He won’t say it, but Gri does too. He does get it, he’s just in mama bird mode.”

“Agh, he and his mama bird mode,” Martyn whines, as he holds onto Mumbo’s hand and stands up, dragging Mumbo behind. “You’re sleeping with me tonight, or I start biting people,” he states strangely calm, as he moves toward his own mat.

Mumbo just huffs in amusement, relinquishing control of his limbs without fuss. “Only if this offer includes cuddles, darling.”

Martyn chuckles at that, dropping down on the mat. “Of course, can’t sleep on the same mat without a good cuddle, that would be illegal.”

“Utterly preposterous,” Mumbo nods sagely, laying down and pulling their boyfriend into their arms. “My pretty Siren,” they whisper, nuzzling into that small space right under Martyn’s ear-fin. 

“My gorgeous Vampire,” Martyn whispers back with a smirk, planting another kiss on Mumbo’s cheek. 

Mumbo’s ear twitches, and he snickers. “I wish you could hear the very frantic whispering the others are doing now that you’ve kissed me,” he giggles.

“Oh?” Martyn sounds amused, as he shifts slightly, looking up at the group in the room. “What’s got you all whispering there?!” He yells at the others, moving closer to the Vampire.

Acho sputters. “Y-you kissed Mumbo! On the LIPS!"

“We’re dumb…” Apo whispers, head in her hands, though enough of her face is visible for Martyn to lipread. “We’re all so dumb… It wasn’t a bit…”

“THEY WEREN’T SUPPOSED TO BLUMMIN’ KNOW!” Joel screeches rather dramatically. “I DIDN’T GET TO MESS WITH THEM!!”

“A tragedy,” Jimmy snorts, entirely unphased.

“You’re together together!” Scar whines. “I didn’t know! MJ why didn’t you tell meeee!”

“Figured it was obvious on its own, mate,” Mumbo snorts.

“Come on guys, I talked about getting his dad’s approval , did you really think we were taking a bit so far?” Martyn laughs at them, putting his head on Mumbo’s chest.

“You’re a theatre kid!” Owen insists. “Even I know that!”

“You fake-dated Ren for a year! ” Grian squawks. “A YEAR, Martyn! ”

“True,” Martyn muses, staying on Mumbo’s chest for a bit, before putting his hands on both sides by the Vampires head, and lifting himself higher to look down at him. “Are we fake-dating, Mumbo? Are we a bit? Are we gonna dramatically break up in front of them and then passionately make-out?”

Mumbo grins, all sharp teeth. “Well I quite like that second idea.”

“I swear to the Void someone’s getting throttled if you two start making out,” Owen deadpans.

“Why swear to me?” Mumbo blinks innocently, while Martyn giggles hysterically above him.

“You fu– stop that! ” The Sparrow wheezes. “I’m supposed to be all stern, quit it!”

“It’s simply in my nature, mate,” the Vampire shrugs. “What’s the point of choosing a surname if you can’t joke about it?”

“You did get lucky in that department, to be honest,” Acho muses.

“See, star gets it!”

“The day will come when I will be a Void, and I will taunt you all sooo much,” Martyn says with a snicker, as he lays his hands on Mumbo’s chest, with his chin on them. They had their intimate moments before, but never like this in front of the others, so Martyn laying on top of him, their faces so close to each other, made him giggle in delight even more. Ah, how refreshing. 

“Oh, so you’re sickening,” Grian groans dramatically. “Gods you’re both going to be insufferable, aren’t you?”

“Cough– Impulse– ” Scar chokes under his breath.

“SHUT IT OH MY DRAGON STOP–” Grian immediately smacks the Vex with his good wing, blushing furiously.

“Oh who is Impulse? ” Acho giggles, wagging their eyebrows.

“N-nobody, he’s nobody–”

“Ohh, just a Dwarf-Demon that Gri was painfully into when we were in the Military,” Scar snickers. “He was in another unit so we didn’t see him much, but those two were just as tooth-rotting about it–”

“Yyyyou need to ssshhhhhut it– ”

“No, no, no, let the man speak, Grian! Freedom of speech here!” Martyn says with a smirk, looking back at the Sunbird.

“Ahh, the Wither duo,” Jimmy muses wistfully. “Such chaos in that perfectly innocent man, you did something to him G, I swear.”

“‘pulse was plenty chaotic on his own,” Grian grumbles, flushed up to his ears. “Skizz just kept ‘im grounded.”

“And you brought him up,” Joel sighs. “Sickening, the both of you.”

“That’s so sweet actually, wait–” Apo coos.

“We’re not talking about this,” Grian whines, good wing fluffed.

“Well we can’t have only our love life on display, can we?” Martyn questions, and before anyone can say anything, adds a quick “Jimmy and Joel with their partners don’t count, their love life has been talked about since forever. We need fresh blood!”

Grian groans into his hands. “Whyyy meeee…”

“Only fair, really,” Mumbo grins.

“I’m really curious now, though!” Apo whines. “Please tell us about him?”

The Sunbird whines, dragging both hands down his face.

“It’s an excuse to gush about him, Gri,” Scar insists. “It might be nice to talk about him! It helps Jimmy and Joel with their spouses!”

“It does,” Joel nods.

“You just wanna tease me about him,” Grian deadpans.

“That too,” the Red Panda shrugs.

“Okay, let’s give the man a break,” Martyn chimes in with a hum, “Grian, I promise to tease you just a bit! ”

Grian groans again, but soon heaves a sigh. “...I met him during our second month of training.”

The Maze Trio perks up and leans forward immediately, perfectly attentive. The others listen more passively, but no less interested. They hadn’t ever heard the story as a story, after all.

“I was havin’ a rough day, and this tank of a man practically saunters over to me, and y’know at first I’m thinking ‘ wow this guy looks like a prick,’ but then his voice my Gods I think I was smitten since day one and………”

---

The Sunbird wants… to call it by a name. A name, a real name.

It used to have one of those. Before it received its title, it was called.. something else.

"Ị̷̪̮̬̼̠̮͚͊͊̋̈́̈́͑͛t̷̤̣̘̓́'̷̛̭̭͇̭̉̂̇̅͘s̵̘̗̼͚̫͇̬̊̀̓͝ ̷̠̳̹̞͚̲̘͍͕́͗̇͆̕̚o̷̡̪͕̠͇̣̜̅̀͑̚k̵̯̻̱̣̯͔̓̿̋̀͒̈́́̍a̷̢̮͚͕͇̘̣̲͊̚y̵̨͇̯̣̒̃̄̍̉̽́̎,̸̢͖̰͉̜͔̙̬̀͋ ̵̡̜̠̠̻̥̝̻̍͌̀͗͜Ḁ̸̯͔̱̼̠̩̦̓̒̽̏͑̃̑͝l̶͍͎̱̟̊͝i̷͕̜͗̎̿̈͂͜."

Something about that old name doesn’t.. feel right. The dog can’t explain it, but it feels.. wrong, somehow.

It is Exor. That’s all it’s been for seven years now, it’s only been Exor. Letting itself be called a real name.. by the man it is meant to hunt, no less… It feels like betrayal.

It’s already betraying its handlers though, isn’t it? Getting so close to that avian… watching him, watching all of them– it’s had so many chances to pick them off, but it hasn’t. It cannot quite understand why.  

..It doesn’t want to? That’s what the Sunbird said, it doesn’t want to go back. In a way, he’s right. The labs are cold, its handlers colder, it does not like the cage or the walls or the pain it feels there. It only has a few friends, but even they are distant, as is required. It is not allowed to call them friends out loud. They're nice enough, though. Sometimes, in its moments of.. humanity, it can admit to itself that it quite likes them.

A name… Gemini always said that her title was Gemini, but that her name was Gem. Related, yes, but different, and real. Does Exor.. want a name? What would its name even be? Shortened, like Gemini’s? Ex..? No, that feels infinitely strange. Its old name still feels wrong.. but then what..? Is it even allowed to name itself? Myth and Tick did... Maybe if it keeps it secret from the labs.. only tells the other Dogs, when it finally gets a hold of itself and returns…

What would its name be? What could it be?

Y̶̹̑ö̷͖û̵̬ ̴͕̆c̶̠͝o̸̜͑ù̶̗l̵̫̈́d̵̩͘ ̶̤͊n̶͎͂ā̴̟m̵̥͘ḙ̵͆ ̷̯̂y̷̥̾o̷̰̿ủ̶̺r̵͍̀s̵͙͝ę̴̈́l̵̮̅f̸̀͜ ̵̖̓a̶̖̕f̵̦̀t̸̮̽ë̷͕́r̴͉̅ ̶̗̐s̴̯͠o̸̟̐m̶̻͠e̴͎̐ẗ̷́͜h̸̨̀ȉ̵̜n̸̜̍ĝ̶̫ ̴͔̃è̵̺l̶̠̿s̶̳̚ȩ̷̈́?̵̡͐

Ah. The voice is back, wonderful.

R̶̼̈ṷ̶̉d̸̨̋é̸̥.̸̼̎ ̴̬̅I̵͙̾'̶̣̎m̸̨̌ ̶̛̟h̷̡̓u̸͖͘r̴͇̕t̵͔̕,̴̯̈́ ̴̗̈b̶̯̆ụ̵̄d̵̰̓.̸̣̌

Name itself after something else… but what? An object? A place, another person?

Unbidden, a memory surfaces. Blurry around the edges– he can’t quite see the faces– but he hears the voices.

 

“Hey, Alinar?” The blurry face speaks.

“Mhm?” The dog answers.

“We learned about regional accents today,” the blurry face chirps.

“Is that so?”

“Mhm! Apparently I’m mostly British? At least closest to it.. You’re Scottish!”

“Scottish?”

“Yeah! It’s why you’ve got that weird inflection sometimes, it’s an accent!”

“I do not have an inflection,  Xor, how rude.”

“See? You say ‘rude’ funny.”

“This is bullying.”

“Correct bullying!”

“Do you have a point here, or are you just making fun of me?”

“Weellll, if you ever decided that you wanted a sick new name like moi–”

“You’re not French–”

“Like. Moi. You could name yourself after your accent!”

“I’m not naming myself Scottish, that’s so dumb–”

“Psh, no silly, just Scott! It’s a fun name and like a little easter egg!”

“Xornoth and.. Scott… Somehow you made it dumber.”

“Wha- rude!”

“You say ‘rude’ funny,” the dog mocks.

“YOU SAY IT FUNNIER-!”

 

Scott. Huh. No idea where that.. came from. Scott… 

He- They- It kind of.. likes that, strangely enough. Scott, then. It’ll tell the Sunbird tomorrow.

It wants its name to be Scott.

---

“Okay, what about this?” Owen asks, pointing toward another paper on the board. “The opening day of the new tavern of the village, they don’t have enough hands after someone left the village just before it, so they are in need of more people, two gold coins a day, for as much as you can work there.”

“Oh?” Apo leans closer, examining the paper. “Like.. a part time job like Jimmy’s at the Cleric’s! Or Martyn at the farm! Does it say how many people they need exactly? It would be nice if two or three of us go there, we would get so much money out of it… and how many hours?”

“Six hours, mostly around afternoon and evening, and it doesn’t say how many people,” Owen pulls the paper, turning it back toward the others. “Well?”

“I can do that,” Joel hums, getting closer, with a hand on his hip. “Much better than all the other jobs I did here, or the ones currently on the board,” he adds with a grimace, as Mumbo huffs by his side, eyeing the papers.

“Joel’s right, most of the jobs here… either pay low, or it’s just dirty and disgusting work, it would be nice to work in the tavern.”

“Hey, hey! Not everyone is gonna work in the tavern, I don’t think they will take us all!” Apo yelps, turning back to the Sparrow. “Right, Owen?”

“Ah?” Owen jumps, looking at Apo, before moving his eyes toward Grian. The Sunbird is standing farther away, looking at the rooftops, and as Owen follows his gaze, he can see Exor perched on one of them, looking down at the group. He catches Grian waving at the assassin, before he turns back to the group with a sigh, knowing that the last word is probably on him. He’s.. getting used to this, and it’s troublesome, because when Grian comes back, instead of focusing on Exor all the time… Well, something to think about another time.

“Yeah, Apo’s right, I think at least three would be fine, Joel, you’re up.” 

The Red Panda grins, bumping up the air, as he spins around. “Yeah, baby!”

“Oh, can I also go with him?” Acho chimes in, his hand up. “I’m good with people, I think I can handle the work at the tavern.”

Owen hums, nodding. “Yeah, you can go with him, aaaand,” he slowly looks around the group, thinking who would be the best in this setting, and well… Scar probably, maybe he should let Scar go with them, but he and Apo have been hanging out with the same commissions recently, and he didn’t want to leave Apo alone– especially when Owen mostly stayed in the hut, and Acho was going with Joel. 

“Mumbo?” he asks hesitantly, turning back to the Vampire. “You up for some work in the tavern?”

“Me?” The man in question perks up, looking back at him. “Yeah! I don’t like anything on the board to be honest, so I don’t see a reason why not!”

“Nooo–” Martyn whines behind Mumbo, hugging him. “I wanted to take you with me to the farm now that Acho isn’t coming, I don’t want to go alone!”

The Vampire giggles at that, turning his head back to his boyfriend. “I think you can deal with some farm work, you’ve been doing great so far!”

“Yeah, but I’m so tired of Berny–”

“His name is not Berny, Martyn, he corrected you a milli–” Acho interrupts him, raising an eyebrow, but Martyn just snorts at him, sticking out his tongue.

“I’m tired of Barney , he’s annoying!”

“He’s a teenager.”

“He bullies me constantly.”

“He’s a teenager.”

“He’s so rude and always yell–”

“He’s a teenager! ” Acho yells, his hands in the air, as Mumbo giggles holding onto Martyn.

“You all hate me,” the Siren sighs, finally letting the Vampire go. “You can go to that stupid tavern, but if I come back too tired and irritated for cuddles, it’s your fault.”

Mumbo hums, planting a quick kiss on Martyns forehead. “Then I’ll make sure to be the best hug giver in the universe.”

Martyn giggles at that, before turning around and leaving toward the direction of the farm. “I’ll remember that!” He yells back, before he disappears behind the buildings after the next turn.

“Weeell,” Owen starts with a chuckle, “Now that it’s decided, Joel, Acho and Mumbo, you are free to check up on the tavern” he says, as he hands the paper over to Joel. “If they don’t take all three of you, feel free to decide who will stay there, and who will take another job.”

“No problem!” Joel hums, as he looks down at the paper to find the location of the tavern, and with a nod toward the other two, leads them away from the board, leaving Owen, Grian, Apo and Scar behind. 

As the Sparrow turns around, he finds Apo and Scar reading over some paper on the board, and talking in hushed voices, discussing if they should take it or not. He sighs and turns back to Grian, who is still staring at Exor.

“You left the food for them, right?” He asks, as he slowly moves to stand at the Sunbird’s side.

“Yeah,” Grian mutters. “..Have you gotten close enough to see their eye yet, Owen..?”

“No, I.. don’t think they actually let us get as close as they do with you, honestly..” Owen confesses, looking back at Exor. “I think they are somewhat… wary? I don’t know how to explain it.”

Grian hums. “...Have you ever seen any race or species with a black sclera before? You.. travelled a lot more than I ever did, s-so…”

“I know about a few kinds of demons, honestly, but it’s mostly in full-blooded demons, and considering how Exor is apparently an Avian… I don’t think they would get the black sclera from demon blood. Maybe…” He shifts nervously, “Maybe it’s something that STARR did? Like their voice?”

Grian hums again. “That’s what I was thinking too..” Then he sighs shakily, shoulders slumping. “..Am I being stupid? Doing all of this, worrying so much? I-I don’t know why I care so much, I…”

“I– You’re not stupid, Grian, it’s just…” Owen sighs heavily, as he rubs his eyes, not knowing how to put his thoughts into words. “I’m not gonna lie to you, Grian, none of us actually understand why you worry so much. Don’t get me wrong, we all understand that they were basically forced into this life, and that they don’t have much choice, so we agreed to help, but for someone who broke his wing because of them, someone who was targeted by them, you.. You show so much worry , it amazes me. I don’t know what kind of bond you two created back before we found you there in the forest, but it’s visibly much stronger than with any of us, or stronger than we imagined it would be. It’s not.. bad. Just a bit risky.”

“..They feel so much,” Grian no more than whispers. “It isn’t obvious.. They don’t emote much, and when they do it’s subtle, but.. they feel, Owen… They listen to me when I ramble, a-and they apologized for hurting me the other day, but so briefly because they don’t like their voice, and they…” The Sunbird curses under his breath, hands shaking. “I keep seeing myself in them, Owen. From so long ago.”

“Then that’s the reason,” Owen concludes with a nod. “I can see why you would worry about them so much, if you see yourself in them. I… I understand what it’s like, I guess I just…” He looks up at Exor, his chest suddenly feeling heavier. “I just never looked at this from this point of view,” he says, his voice much softer, as he slowly lifts his hand up and sends Exor a little nervous wave.

Exor’s head tilts curiously, before their own hand slowly lifts, giving the most minuscule of waves in return. Grian huffs a soft laugh. “H-huh. That’s the first time they’ve waved back,” he whispers.

“Seriously?!” Owen yelps, his eyes going from Exor to Grian and back, as he stares at both of them with shock. “The first time?!”

Grian giggles breathlessly. “Yeah. They’ve only ever done that little head tilt before, like they didn’t get what I was doing.”

“Huh..” The Sparrow mutters, looking at Exor, and feeling himself smile just a little. That was… somewhat comforting. “I guess, we are bonding?” He jokes with a little chuckle, as he waves once again, this time more sure of himself.

Exor waves again, still tentative, and even from this distance it’s clear how confused they are. Grian snorts.

“Maybe I should actually explain waving to them,” he muses. “I kind of wonder what they think it’s for.”

Owen snorts as well, putting his hand back down. “Yeah, you should do that, imagine them just.. waving at the others out of nowhere.”

Grian snickers. “That’s horror novel level stuff, the others would freak. Y’know maybe I should let them do that actually that sounds funny–”

“It does sound funny, I want to be there when they do this to Martyn or Joel, imagine their reactions. Or Mumbo, I think others would freak out less than those three, honestly.”

“..Maybe I’ll explain and tell them to do it anyway. It’d be hilarious. Except Martyn and Joel may go the violence route…”

“Hmm, they might,” Owen agrees with a heavy sigh. “Especially Martyn. I guess it’s been a bit better since yesterday, after his talk with Mumbo, because he looked at Exor once today, and didn’t even growl or anything, so that’s a win?”

Grian sighs right back. “Knowing Martyn, if they so much as twitch wrong he’ll resort to violence again. He’s.. protective. Very violently protective.”

“Yeah, I gathered that mu–”

“Grian! Owen!” They are suddenly interrupted by Scar, who grins at them with a paper in his hands, Apo by his side waving their direction.

“We found something! Gonna go now, we will be back probably just before sunset!” The Demon calls out, before he turns around leaving, and Scar sending them a thumbs up, follows. 

“Ah! Bye!” Owen yells back with a quick wave, as the duo starts slowly disappearing into the crowd. “They got pretty close, didn’t they?” He suddenly asks Grian with a chuckle.

Grian smiles warmly. “They did. It’s good to see Scar getting close to people again, and I’m glad Apo’s doing so much better. It’s good that they’ve bonded.”

“Yeah, yeah it’s good,” Owen answers with a nod, before sending a quick glance back to Grian and immediately turning away. “I– I think we should get back to the hut. Stay inside and rest, doctor’s orders.”

Grian hums, nodding slowly. “..I think I’ll go back to the roof, if they don’t run off to watch one of the others. I’m teaching them sign language– I think they might have some sort of photographic memory, they learn quick .”

“Oh? Can I– Can I join?” Owen asks hesitantly, looking back at Exor for a second, to make sure that they were following them. And yes, they were. “They are following us.”

Grian hums, grinning at the Sparrow. “Of course you can join, Owen. They waved back at you, they reacted to you, I’m pretty sure that’s the biggest seal of approval you could get from them.”

Owen cackles at that, “Oh, I’m delighted to have their approval, should thank them as soon as possible, so they know how grateful I am.” 

“Well you can tell them on the roof,” Grian giggles. “There’s rocks to the side of the hut, very convenient for climbing.”

“Yes, I saw it the first night you climbed, but decided not to follow,” Owen says, as the hut slowly comes into view right ahead of them. “What do you usually talk about with them?” He wonders.

“All sorts of things,” Grian shrugs. “Mostly happy memories. I think hearing about regular life has been sort of grounding them in reality, if that makes sense? They make their emotions a bit more obvious than they did at the start, and they seem more.. present, I guess”

“Working through trauma with positive memories, yeah, I get it,” Owen hums, nodding along, as he finally reaches the rock and starts climbing to the top of the hut. “It reminds you that there is happiness somewhere in life, maybe that’s the case with them. I don’t think they have good memories from STARR, and considering how good they are, they have been there for a long time, I think.”

Grian nods, climbing up next to him. “That’s what I was thinking too. It’s.. I-I don’t like thinking about it, but they must’ve been raised there, don’t you think..?”

“Yeah, that… would make the most sense,” Owen says sadly, as he notices the figure jumping down on one of the tree branches, looking down at the duo. “They’re here,” he whispers, nudging Grian in the shoulder.

Grian looks up, smiling and waving. “Hey, Exor. You get the steak I left out?”

Exor tilts their head, slowly adjusting to properly sit on the branch, legs dangling as they give a small nod.

Grian’s smile widens, as he sits down on the roof. “Good, that’s good. I’m glad.”

“Uh, hi?” Owen speaks up, nervously shifting behind Grian. “Can I join you two? I hope you don’t mind…” It feels awkward talking to Exor like this, but he doesn’t want to leave like this, because it’s working, right? 

“...S̴͓̲̼͉̃i̴̜͍͂t̴͙͕̏͂̓͘,̷͉͔͓̆̊ ̴̳̱̔Ş̵̧̅̃̕p̴͉͔̲̎ã̸̺̟r̵̰͘r̸̮̅͠͠o̶̠̞̣͍͒̀̈́̚w̷̬͖̫̺̑̓̈,” Exor whispers– though quiet, the weird layering makes it a bit too loud to be a proper whisper, and they seem to shrink a little the moment they speak

Grian hums, turning to Owen with undeniably sad eyes. “You heard ‘em, go on and sit down. It’s alright.”

Owen nods, completely ignoring and trying to pretend as if he didn’t flinch upon hearing this voice again, and sits down beside Grian, before speaking up. “It’s Owen.. Uh.. My name, I mean. I’m Owen. Not Sparrow.”

Exor blinks, and there’s that head tilt again. “......S̶͎͒̚ć̸͍̱̥͍ȯ̶͙̗̫̹̓́̚ť̷̺͔̘͔̓̅͠t̴̡͓̦̺̑.”

Owen’s eyes widen at that, as Grian perks up looking positively elated. “Scott? You wanna be called Scott?”

Exor nods, hesitant and visibly unsure. How it’s visible isn’t clear, their face is barely pinched, but they’ve got this tiny crease between their eyebrows that somehow reads as shy.  

“Huh..” The Sparrow huffs under his breath, looking at the assassin for a second, before smiling softly. “It’s.. good to properly meet you, Scott,” he says with a little wave. 

Exor– Scott– blinks, giving their own very confused wave back with another head tilt.

Grian huffs. “Do you know what that means, buddy? The waving?” When Scott shakes their head, he giggles softly. “It’s a greeting, basically. A little gesture you can do to say hello or goodbye.”

Scott hums thoughtfully, staring at their own hand for a moment. Then they wave again, more confidently this time.

Owen giggles at that slightly, giving Scott another wave, before he looks down on his hand, and immediately goes bright red. “I’m getting a bit distracted,” he says awkwardly, a smile still on his face.

Grian snickers, nudging him with his elbow. Then they both freeze, because suddenly there’s an ever so soft giggle from the tree.

Scott has a hand covering their mouth, clearly covering a small smile and barely muffling the tiny giggles escaping them. Grian’s jaw drops.  

“Oh my Gods you made them laugh,” the Sunbird whispers.

“Oh my Gods,” Owen whispers back with the same shock, looking directly at Scott. He decides to go with it, and lifts his hand back up, giving the assassin another small wave with a huge grin on his face.

Scott uses their other hand to eagerly wave back this time, now giggling into the crook of their elbow. Strangely enough, their tiny bits of laughter don't have the same layering effect as their voice. It just sounds unbearably soft, almost gentle.

“Oh,” Owen mumbles, his hand freezing for a second, as he slowly turns back to Grian. “I understand it now. Oh my god, Grian–”

Grian just smiles, eyes gentle and knowing. “Mhm. Makes sense pretty quick, doesn’t it..?” He turns back to Scott, still giggling into their arm, eye now squeezed shut. “...Makes perfect sense.”

“Yeah,” Owen hums softly, smiling at Scott. “It’s really nice to meet you, Scott,” Owen repeats, now more confidently, tilting his head. “You’re fun to have around, aren’t you?” 

Scott blinks, looking vaguely like a deer in headlights. Their head tilts again. “F̸̧͓̽̚ü̷̹͔̼̫n̴̜̱̣̞̂͝?̶͔͗͊͛”

“Oh god,” Owen cringes, looking back at Grian for support. “How do you even explain the concept of fun?”

Grian just looks a bit sad. “They know what it is. They don’t know why you’re calling them fun, Owen.”

“T̵̖̊̊̈́h̴̟̠̾̆̊ả̴̦̽́ţ̵̣͕̰͆͆,” Scott mutters, looking between the two avians in somehow blatant confusion. How is it that they’re so easy to read, despite their mostly neutral expression, just by being this close?

“Ah!” Owen exclaims, as he turns back to Scott. “Well… I don’t know, honestly, just… I’m sitting here for, what? Five minutes? And you already made me giggle, I think it was fun. Also, I don’t know why, but your waving is so.. silly. Warms me inside?” Owen cringes once again, as his face becomes a few shades darker red, and he hides behind his hands. “Okay, this is embarrassing.”

Scott just blinks. Blinks again. And again. “...Į̸͓̂'̵͔̥͔̘̄͆m̸̹̘̏̈ ̷̟̯́͛̑̚s̷̼͖͓͚͆͠o̴̖͝r̶̢̛̊r̵͙̫̙͈̀̕ỳ̵̡͕͕,” they whisper (best they can, anyhow).

“What?!” Owen yelps, his hands going down, so he can look at Scott. “Why are you sorry? You don’t have to be sorry about this, it’s fine! I just stumbled on my own words, you didn’t do anything?!” He looks back at Grian with a panicked “help me” in his eyes.

“W̷̝̿̊̚i̶͚̍ͅn̵̠̣̑͑̓̀g̸̢̥̝̈́̿̎,” Scott mutters. “H̶̨̤̱̽̒̈́̚u̵̙̦͕̿̋r̸͕̞̳̝̔͒t̶̯̘̻̿͑̓.̴̾̏͜.̸̞͑͠.̴̫̀͋̂̚ ̵̧̙̙͕̔̾̽̀s̶̹͙̈̓̌o̶͕͛͛̒̕r̸̲͎̉͑̀ȑ̶̮̪̒y̶̨̥̱̿̃̓.̸̡͕̝̹̅”

Grian just glances at Owen with that same pained smile. He’s.. kind of glad that somebody else gets it now. He doesn’t quite feel so crazy anymore.

“Oh..” The Sparrow looks back toward his wing in bandages, before giving a light chuckle. “I.. forgot that you did that, actually.. It’s okay, Scott, your apology is accepted,” he tells them, as he looks back toward them with a soft smile. “I’m recovering too! Very fast!”

Scott hums, giving a small nod. They glance at Grian, Grian’s wing, Owen’s wing, then Owen. Finally, they stand on the branch and bolt into the forest quicker than either avian can blink.

Grian sighs. “Well. No sign lesson, but.. we got a name. And a smile, that’s.. insane, Owen.”

“Yeah! That– that’s wonderful,” Owen says, as he slowly stands up, still looking at the branch Scott was just sitting on. “I wonder where they go… to the others, maybe?”

“Probably,” Grian nods, standing with a grunt. “If they disappear like that during the day, I usually hear that one of the others saw them. At night.. I dunno. Somewhere in the forest.”

Owen bites the inside of his cheek, his face in a grimace as he thinks about something. Probably just yesterday he would have thought that this was crazy, but now… “What if.. We give them a mat and a blanket? Here? On the roof? They are already keeping an eye on us, so maybe…”

Grian looks at Owen with utter awe, a misty gleam to his eyes. “..Yeah?” He whispers. “Y-you think that’s..? I’m not…” He’s not crazy… He’s not crazy..?

Owen looks back at him softly, feeling a pang in his chest, as he exhales sharply. “Yeah! We can do that.. We have an extra blanket, and an extra mat, now that we have a bed in the hut, so.. we can do that!” He tells Grian with a nod, his voice gentle.

Grian beams. “Y-yeah! Yeah, let’s do it! I’ll get the- yeah! I-I’ll grab the blanket, a-and the mat and I’ll bring it up there now yeahyeahyeah–” 

Owen chuckles at that, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Maybe just get it ready and bring it to them once they are back? We don’t want anyone to see it and steal it, or for rain to start, or literally anything else that can ruin their poor blanket, just wait for them, okay? We’ll have to explain that it’s for them and they can sleep here, but don’t expect them to accept it this quickly, it might.. Take a while, or maybe at least a day or two, to take our offer.” He tries to be as gentle as possible, to make sure not to break Grian’s hope. Owen knows it will work out, but there’s no guarantee that it will be an immediate success. 

Grian just nods eagerly. “Right, yeah, of course I can wait!” He chirps, eyes sparkling. “Patient, yep, that’s me, super good at waiting yeah!”

Yeah, of course, he wants to say playfully, but seeing how excited Grian is, Owen decides to let him be happy for a bit, as she slowly walks back toward the direction of the rock. “Come on, let’s go inside, or maybe we can go get some lunch together? And grab something for the others later, I think our snacks ran out yesterday,” she says, as she slowly climbs down.

Grian hums in easy agreement, climbing down after her. “Sounds like a plan!” He agrees eagerly.

Owen huffs, landing on the ground and waiting for Grian. The two then walk side by side back into the village, content to get some lunch and snacks for themselves and the Outsiders, all while both their minds race about that blue-haired assassin. Owen.. gets it now. He really didn’t before– he felt sick at the idea of their wings being taken, but other than that? He couldn’t fathom the sheer everything Grian displayed toward them. Now…

Now, he gets it. And he’ll be damned if he continues to stand by and watch Grian be the only one to care.

---

“Their name is Scott!” Is the first thing anyone hears when they all sit on their mats, ready to discuss the day’s events.

“What.” Joel deadpans.

“Scott?” Both Martyn and Mumbo question, turning back to Grian at the same time, but while Mumbo looks excited despite being slightly nervous, Martyn looks mortified as he stares back at the Sunbird.

“Wait.. As in.. Exor?” Jimmy asks, his eyes wide.

“Yeah!” Grian chirps, bouncing lightly on his toes. “I asked them if they had a name last night and-and-and they didn’t really seem to know what-what I was talking about? But then this morning, w-when me and Owen went up to the roof to talk to them, they introduced themself to Owen as Scott! They named themself after I asked!”

“Huh,” Apo whispers, sharing a bewildered and apprehensive look with Acho.

“That’s great!” Scar grins, taking the new information in stride.

“Yeah!” Mumbo exclaims, standing up from his mat, “That– it’s a good sign! So Grian was right, it’s actually working!”

“It’s actually working?” Martyn whispers to himself, looking back at Grian and Owen, who share a look between them.

“Not just that,” Owen adds, humming, “When we were talking, Scott started giggling, and there was no voice distortion like other times? They were just.. laughing.”

“A genuine laugh,” Acho mutters. “Does that mean they smiled?”

“Oh, so it emotes now?” Joel asks, indignant.

“They did! An actual smile followed by an actual laugh, it took me by surprise,” Owen giggles himself, sitting on the bed with his legs crossed. “And all it took was just teaching them how to wave and me embarrassing myself!”

“T-teaching them how to wave??” Jimmy stutters.

“Moreso taught them what a wave means,” Grian huffs, still visibly giddy. “Lots of waving. Owen’s a dork, turns out.”

“Surprised you’re only now learning this,” Acho chuckles.

“Hey!” Owen whines, pouting, but then turning back to Grian. “At least they waved at me! They didn’t do that with you! So HA! Suck it up!” Owen suddenly cackles, throwing his hands into the air.

Martyn looks between them confused, as he spins the idea of Exor smiling and laughing inside his head. That was possible?

“Well they talked to me first,” Grian counters, arms crossed. “Didn’t see you chatting with them this past week, did I? Hm??”

“Okay, let’s be honest there, Grian,” Owen starts, putting his hands on his knees, “I wasn’t actually trying to speak to them, like.. It was kinda creepy. But the moment I actually tried, they immediately responded to me, told me their name first, then laughed, so I think I’m winning this one, buddy.”

“Are they–?” Scar asks amused, looking between the duo, as Apo cackles behind him with Acho.

“Yep.”

Grian gasps, hand to his chest. “How dare– Oh I hate that you have a point, shut up–”

Jimmy snickers. “He’s got you man, give up while you can.”

“What can I say,” the Sparrow snorts, clapping his hands and closing his eyes. “I guess Scott found their new favorite Avian of the group. I’m in first, Grian’s in second, Jimmy’s not even in the competition.”

“Hey!” The Canary yelps, stuttering. “I also want to be in the competition!”

“Oh my god,” Martyn groans, as he falls back onto the mat.

“You should come with me tomorrow!” Grian gasps. “I can take you guys up there! One per day, you can come meet them with me!”

“You people are blummin’ insane,” Joel whispers, head in his hands.

“Oo, me after Jimmy, me after Jimmy!” Scar insists, hand raised like a schoolboy.

“Okay,” Martyn huffs, rolling his eyes. “That’s what we’re planning now? Introducing the team to it, one per day? What are we even doing, man,” he whines, hiding his face behind his hands.

“You don’t have to be in the lineup,” Grian raises a brow, unimpressed. “In fact, you’ve already been up with me. You had your turn.”

“I’d.. kind of like to, at some point,” Mumbo tentatively admits.

“Same!” Apo grins, with Acho nodding eagerly beside him.

“We can do that,” Owen says, smiling with a nod. “I think they.. enjoyed my company, right? I don’t think they were against it, and looking at how they laughed… I would say, they are very positive about talking to more of us!”

“You’re nuts,” Joel grunts, pinching the bridge of his nose. “All of you. Nuts.”

“Well you don’t gotta be in the lineup either!” Grian huffs, arms crossed.

Martyn giggles hysterically at that, but doesn’t say any more, as he continues laying down on the mat. This all feels fucking weird . All of his instincts are telling him to be careful, to be cautious, that his paranoia is warranted– and yet, it suddenly giggles? And how exactly should he feel right now? He–! He has a good reason to be acting like this! He’s right for worrying, so why–

“I’m gonna go up with you tomorrow then,” Jimmy grins, his wings puffing behind him. “They were there at Cordelia’s today, maybe I should wave at them next time!”

“Excuse you, waving is my thing with them,” Owen grunts. “I’ve decided just now, it’s our thing, get your own thing with the blue boy.”

“The-?” Scar wheezes, breaking into giggles. “The what-?”

“Their hair’s blue!” Grian chirps. “And their eye! Really dark blue, and their hair’s a lot paler than it probably should be, but blue!”

Mumbo looks between Grian and Owen, before he stops for a second and mutters, “Oh my, he has become second Grian.”

Martyn snorts, adding a fake horrified “Grian corrupted him!”

Owen huffs at them, crossing his arms over his chest while also trying to ignore the wording of “second Grian.” Did it slightly hurt? Yes, but will he show it? Nope. “I was not corrupted! I was.. enlightened!”

“Right,” Joel snorts.

“Oh!” Grian sits up straighter. “Owen d’you think it’s been long enough? C-can I-? The blanket–”

“Blanket..?” Mumbo whispers.

Owen cringes at that, finally realizing that they forgot to mention that . “Uh, yeah, we decided to.. offer them a mat and a blanket?” He says slowly, mostly looking toward Joel and Martyn.

“You’re giving it our mat and blanket?” Martyn yells, standing up. “We don’t even have extra ones! The ones empty right now are Scar’s, because he got the bed! You can’t give it Scar’s mat and blanket!”

“You can, actually,” Scar blinks, shrugging. “I’m cool with it. Sounds nice of you!”

“For goodness sake…” Joel hisses under his breath.

Grian raises a brow at that, looking at the Siren. “Martyn, I wouldn't suggest giving it to them if I thought that Scar wouldn’t approve! I know it’s his, but I’m also his platonic partner, I think I know what Scar would approve of or not!”

“Would you?” Martyn asks angrily, spreading his arms. “Because looking at these past days, it doesn’t look like it, Grian! Since that night, you have just– detached yourself from the team! The things you used to do? Owen is doing them now! He’s taking care of us, while you spend all your time talking with that thing! Mumbo started spending more time with me, for which I’m grateful, the only good thing that’s come out of this, actually! And Scar is now with Apo, apparently! Where are you at this time, Grian? With Exor? Sorry, it’s Scott now, I forgot!” He says with a mocking tone, glaring at the Sunbird.

Owen feels his cheeks heat up both from awkwardness and the embarrassment of the situation, as he looks away from Grian, while Mumbo and Scar visibly shrink in themselves, sending worried glances back to Grian with Mumbo trying to grab Martyn’s hand and drag him back down on the floor.

Grian very slowly rises to his talons, face terrifyingly blank. His hands are shaking slightly, and there’s a startlingly cold look in his eyes. “..So that’s how it’s gonna be here, hm?” He tilts his head.

“Yes,” Martyn states firmly, taking a step toward Grian. “This is exactly how it’s gonna be, because at this point, you don’t fucking care about us, Grian! Exor this, Exor that, this has been going on for a whole damn week! Tell me that I’m wrong! Come on, tell me that you haven’t been neglecting us for that thing!”

“I’m t-trying– so fucking hard, Martyn,” Grian snarls through his gritted teeth, as his voice trembles, his eyes becoming slightly glossy. “You have no idea what I’m thinking, no idea what I’m going through, and you’re not even trying to understand! Have I ever asked you too much before? Then this is how you treat me now that I finally asked something of you? Did I do something wrong for you to treat me like this?” 

All of Martyn’s confidence starts crumbling, as he takes a step back, his hands shaking. “Stop– You can’t just turn this around on me! I’m not the fucking villain in this–!"

“Oh I thought we were doing this!” Grian laughs bitterly, hands flying into the air. “Go on, Martyn! Air out your fucking grievances! Tell me AAALLLL the shit I’m doing wrong! Am I spending too much time with the big bad killer?! NEWS FLASH BUDDY! You were a fucking killer when I met you too! WE WERE ALL FUCKING KILLERS, MARTYN! We’ve all SLAUGHTERED our way through a shitty situation or two! Oh they broke a couple wings and ribs, scratched up a couple scales, are you forgetting when you literally ripped someone’s arm off back at STARR? When you gouged that man’s eyes out because he dared graze your tail a little wrong?! IT’S CALLED TRYING TO BLOODY SURVIVE, THAT’S WHAT THEY’RE DOING! What do you think will happen to them if they go back empty-handed?! We ALL know what STARR does to its people, we’ve all seen it! What do you think will happen to that man up there? THEY ALREADY TOOK HIS FUCKING WINGS!! So what now, Martyn? You gonna tell me what to do? Gonna tell me how upset it makes you, that I’m doing something to help someone in the same situation? Gonna tell me how you feel neglected, fishy? HUH?!”

The room falls into silence, the only sound of Grian panting with boiling anger, as he stares down at Martyn. The Siren is looking back at him, his whole body shaking, the first drops of tears gathering around the edges of his eyes, making the scales underneath shine. Mumbo, panicking, reaches for him to calm him down, to make them stop fighting, to do something– but before his hand even has a chance to touch his boyfriend, Martyn flinches away from him, still looking at Grian as he snarls in a little, desperate and hoarse voice, “Screw you, Grian.”

He turns around and, quickly grabbing his own blanket, goes straight for the door, not waiting for anyone to speak as tears fall down his face. “I need some time. Alone.” And with that, he steps out of the hut, slamming the door behind him.

Grian takes a shuddering breath, clenching his trembling hands into fists. He tries– and fails– to will away his own tears. Instead, he snatches the extra mat and blanket from where they’re piled by the bed, draping them over his arm and wordlessly exiting the hut.

The hut stays in silence for a bit more, trying to comprehend what even happened here. In the year they spent together, they never had such a fight between team members, especially not between people of the same groups. A fight between the maze trio and others would have been expected, new faces, new struggles, new challenges to face, but Martyn and Grian? They’ve known each other for years, so seeing such a heavy.. what? Fallout? Is this what it was? Their fallout? 

“Mumbo?” Jimmy questions softly, breaking the silence. “Are y-you–”

“No,” the Vampire answers without hesitance, still sitting down on his mat, not planning to move. “He– he needs this, I think. We should leave him to it, he’s gonna come back sooner or later, Martyn just… needs to think things over. By himself.” Despite his words, Mumbo is looking paler than he ever has, slightly shaking. “I just.. Grian was so–” his breath hitches, as he slowly lays down, rolling on his side and pulling the blanket over his head, disappearing from view. 

“Mumbo?” The Canary echoes the same question, now even more worried, as he tries to take a step forward, but is interrupted by Scar.

“Leave him,” the Vex states, moving closer to Mumbo himself. “Apo? I’m gonna take your mat for tonight, okay? You can sleep on the bed,” he quickly says to the Demon, sending him a wobbly smile. He doesn’t wait for an answer, immediately reaching for the mat and laying down by Mumbo’s side, throwing the blanket over them, leaving both of the Outsiders separated from the others with a cloth.

“I don’t think they are okay. Especially Mumbo,” Joel mumbles quietly, as Jimmy looks back at him with a frown.

“Of course they’re not okay! Joel!” The Canary whispers, softly hitting the Red Panda’s shoulder.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” Joel hisses back, as he calms down and looks away. “He was starting to dissociate, it was obvious in his eyes,” he adds quietly, as he slowly goes back to his own mat. 

Jimmy grimaces at that, looking back at the bundle of blankets, feeling even more of the sadness wash all over him, as he sighs heavily and his gaze turns toward the Maze trio. Acho and Apo were there, getting comfortable on the bed, while Owen was nowhere to be seen. Great, three Outsiders out after the fight. Just amazing. He huffs and falls down on his own mat, hiding himself behind his wings, wishing for the morning to come faster. 

He didn’t know how, but they needed to fix this.

---

Grian huffs, stumbling and pulling himself up the rocks to the roof. It’s a bit rough with the use of one hand, but he manages well enough, and soon he’s in his familiar spot with that dull blue eye staring at him.

Unlike before, he can’t really.. make himself speak immediately. He feels awful– he felt awful the second those horrible words left his mouth. Why did he talk to his friend like that? Martyn didn’t deserve those things being spat at him so hatefully– he has every right to be upset! Grian.. knows, he knows he’s been spending a lot of time with Scott, he just… He really thought Martyn would understand. Even just a little bit. They’ve all suffered because of STARR, all lost something to the labs, he really thought Martyn would… get it.

But he didn’t. And now he’s out there, probably having a breakdown knowing him, all because Grian shouldn’t shut his stupid mouth.  

He sighs shakily, finally looking up at Scott. They’re still staring, with something akin to concern in their eye. “..Hey,” Grian croaks, taking another trembling breath. “I-I brought you something.”

He lays out the mat and blanket, a bit more gentle than strictly necessary. “Owen suggested it actually, but.. I figured.. You like staying here and keeping watch of us, yeah? You go into the forest at night, which I know isn’t comfortable, so… I-if you wanted, it’s your choice, but.. You could sleep here sometime, with these.”

Exor blinks, staring at the two objects in a mix of confusion and surprise, coiled together in his eye alone while the rest of his face stays blank. Grian can’t say when he started being able to read them so well, honestly.

“...S̴̼͔͔͊̽͝ͅo̸̪̲̾̌̄́m̸̠͕̔͝e̸͍̻̳̒̇̚͠t̴̢̻̤̣̒i̴͎̍̄͘m̸͈̕ĕ̶͔̥͔̙͋͠,” Scott whispers with a small nod. Then they look just to the side of Grian, out at the village in the direction Martyn went.

“..He’s upset with me,” the Sunbird carefully explains. “I.. said some nasty stuff to him, hurt him real bad. I-I didn’t want to hurt him, I just got so angry at his accusations and I…”

"...W̸͍̙͋̊͝a̸͖͒ț̷͍̻̆̌̚c̵̝̹̮͌̾̽h̴̪͓̪͑̍̈.̶̳̝̒͐.̴̪͎̌̒?̴͈̿͊"

“W-what-?”

“Ẃ̸͉̦͑͆a̵̜͉̓̈́͘ẗ̶̟͚̣͝c̸̟͔͓͝ḥ̷̨̟̿,̴̜͍̾” they repeat. “M̸̹͓͖̏e̷̹͈̳̐̑.̷̢̗̈́̈́ ̵̨̀Ẁ̷͙̥̀̀a̶͍͓͋̊͌ṫ̵͍̄͜c̴̪̳̥̿̈̎h̴̹̽̀.̶͈̳͛͒̚ ̴̥̼̼̇̂͝K̵̼͑͗͘e̶̱͉͌̾̏e̴͓͛p̸͉̰̜̀͠ ̵̟̜̿̃͝ṡ̷̯̖ǎ̸̮̦̗͒f̵̧̭̹̍e̷͚͂.̵̭͐”

“K-keep him safe..?” Grian mutters. “You’d do that?”

Scott nods, already sitting up straighter on their branch.

“..O-okay,” Grian nods hesitantly. “J-just keep your distance..? Make sure he’s safe, but.. Don’t get close…”

Scott grunts, standing and bolting through the treeline yet again. Grian huffs fondly– they do care, in their own little way. The only way they know how– protection.

~ 

Martyn doesn’t look back as he leaves the hut. He doesn’t look back as he knows he will be taking the last turn, before the hut disappears from view. And he doesn’t look back, when he finally collapses in the familiar fields of the farm. He has been here for a week now, helping the farmer family, getting familiar with the place; and now he lays in between the wheat he was helping to grow, tears running down his face as he desperately tries to wipe them off. He doesn’t like crying very much. He likes to consider himself strong, someone that can stand up for himself and for his family, but here he was, in tears after a stupid fight with Grian. 

He considers Grian his family, and has for a while. They basically grew up together on Evo, and he knows that he can put as much trust in him as possible, that he can give away his life for Grian’s without a second thought. Grian is very dear to him. Just like Jimmy. And Joel. And Mumbo. And Scar. He even started warming up to the Maze trio, sure it’s a slow process, but it’s working, they are getting along now. Would he consider them his family? …Probably. A year is a long time, even if he doesn’t actually know much about them. They still had time to somewhat bond and find out more about each other through the actions made, not the story told. 

Martyn is surprisingly a family type of guy. Other people might not notice it because of all his anger, and paranoia, and just all the fucked up shit happening in his brain, but he loves his family. He will do everything for his family. When his whole life is upside down, when he feels himself at his lowest, he knows that his family will be there to support him. To hold him. To love him. 

So why was this happening, now that all his ideals and plans were collapsing in front of his eyes? Why was it now, when he needed the most support, his family turned their backs on him? Mumbo.. Mumbo said it wasn’t like that. He trusts Mumbo, so he decided to let it go, but this….

”Gonna tell me how you feel neglected, fishy?”

Martyn shudders with a heavy sob, his chest suddenly hurting, as everything blurs in his eyes once again. He tried to fight it off so hard, and yet, he was weak to this. He knew what Grian was saying, he understood it, at least everything before that sentence. After that, his whole brain turned into a mush, as he tried to put his thoughts together, but couldn’t–  

He needed to get out of that hut, and he needed to do it quickly. He needed to breathe, he needed to–

Fishy?

He slowly pulls himself up with a low wheeze, his eyes checking the farm, as he hears something. The leaves? The tree leaves. He looks up, and his eyes meet a singular dark blue eye dimly glowing in the dark, surrounded by black sclera. His body freezes, finally going still after the fight, as he continues staring at the assassin perched on the branch– not very far, but not very near either.

“Grian send you here?!” He snarls, his voice betraying him and breaking halfway through. He hated crying. He hated crying in front of other people. He hated crying in front of his enemies.

Exor– Scott doesn’t answer, as it continues staring back at him, tilting its head. It makes Martyn shudder in anger, as he slowly falls back into the field, looking up at the night sky from the ground. It was pretty late already… He wonders what others are doing. He knows that they won’t be looking for him, at least as long as Mumbo can stop them, but he needs to be alone right now. He needs to cry in the safety of a lonely place, and yet it was here. It made Martyn so angry. 

“It’s your fault,” he grumbles, knowing that Scott can hear him from where it is sitting. Martyn doesn’t try to sit up, to look at it and see its reaction, no, he continues laying there, feeling his ever growing anguish. “I know why they feel bad for you. I know why they are trying to help. But I don’t want to. I don’t want them helping you. I don’t want them risking everything for you. You don’t deserve it. I didn’t deserve it, none of us fucking deserved it. Grian is right. All of us are killers, all of us have blood on our hands. And yet, he misses the exact same thing he said– we all are just trying to survive.”

Because that’s what they have to do, isn’t it? Evo, the military, it’s all the same over and over again. Just suffering upon suffering, and the only thing they can do is try to survive it. To try and get the happy ending they all wish for so hard. But where is this happy ending? Where is their safe haven? Nowhere. Not physically. No place is safe, not for them. But what is a haven without family? 

“I want my family safe. You are threatening it. And I don’t fucking care that you are suffering, as long as you’re a threat. I’ve seen people like you. I’ve seen people like me. I was a murderer once, and I showed no mercy as long as I was there. I know that if any of them had a chance, they would have had our heads, right there and then; but my blade was always quicker, it always cut deeper. I gave no mercy to people like me, people just trying to survive, so why would you? A dog that was trained to give no mercy, trained to kill on sight.”

He hates that the others don’t understand it. Because it was so simple, it hurt. Despite their attempts to help Scott, it will be just another one of STARR’s dogs. It will hurt them one day, and it will be the day his family falls apart. So how can he just stay away and let it happen? How can he just calmly watch as Grian is throwing their lives away, for a person they don’t know?

“I’m selfish. I know I am. I know you’re hurt, I know it’s how they raised you, how they forged you. I know your pains, I also lost something dear to me. Something important, something that belonged to me. Something that was supposed to be a part of me. But you’re not my family. And you hurt them. So I don’t care who you are, or why you are here. As long as my family is alive, I will fight to keep them safe, even if it means being selfish and ruining the lives of others, because in someone else’s place… I would have done exactly the same thing to myself.”

“I don’t care if you’re a dog, or a person, or a monster, as long as you’re a danger to my family, I will hate you.”

He takes a shaky inhale, shuddering from the cold, as he turns his back to Scott, covering himself with the blanket and closing his eyes to welcome the cold slumber. He ignores the pain, the burning sensation in his chest, or his hard breathing. He doesn’t care if Scott’s gonna kill him. Maybe at least this way his family will know not to trust it. Maybe this way they will run, they will survive this. 

And if he has to die for it, he will welcome it with open arms.

He's dead to the world when Scott moves, jumping down from the tree and walking to his side. He doesn't stir, doesn't wake, when they simply lean down and adjust the blanket to cover his shoulders, shielding his scales from the night's chill. He is asleep when they return to the tree, keeping silent vigilance over his sleeping form until the sun rises.

Notes:

Ann here, this is our longest chapter yet, I hope you enjoyed it!!!

We would love to hear your thoughts, especially about the word count; are the bigger chapters better?

What about lore? We hope you like it so far!

Glitchy Text Translations:
"It's okay, Ali."
You could name yourself after something else?
Rude. I'm hurt, bud.

"...Sit, Sparrow."
"......Scott."
"Fun?"
"That,"
"...I'm sorry."
"Wing. Hurt... sorry."

"...Sometime."
"...Watch..?"
"Watch,"
"Me. Watch.. keep safe."

Chapter 11: You know you're better than this

Notes:

Hello! Note from your lovely Authors!

You probably haven't noticed, but if you did, good job! Yesterday, we updated our summary and the tag list, so make sure to check out the new tags. Also, with this, we decided to go through previous chapters. We suggest rereading the fic before reading this new chapter, because we added some stuff you might want to know!

Also, another reminder that we now have an official Discord server you can join and get fic updates and important info! Join us, we'd like to have you over!
https://discord.gg/AmcKabb425

Chapter CW/TW: Heavy gore, character death, panic attack, dehumanization, fantasy racism

Chapter title is from "Headlock" by Imogen Heap

!!Hover mouse over glitchy text for a boxed translation! (Mobile/Tablet users should see End Notes)

Martyn walks up to the door of the hut anxiously, sudden worry telling him that he’s not welcome inside anymore. Not welcome with them anymore. Grian.. isn’t one to hold grudges for long, not when it comes to people he actually cares about, which means everything is gonna be okay, right? 

Yes, they had a fight, a very big one too, but friend groups fight all the time, and being on the run trying to survive.. It’s bound to take a toll on you psychologically and emotionally. He’s actually surprised it took so long for it to happen, he just wished it wasn’t so.. serious. 

Having friendly banter is one thing, but the thing that happened yesterday? That was much more than that. 

He still thinks he was right. Grian was spending too much time on the dog, and if it continued like this, it might not be their only fight. He doesn’t get why Grian can’t understand. After everything they went through, and Grian knowing how Martyn is, how his thought process works, he just doesn’t get it.

He sighs heavily, standing in front of the door, as he finally finds the courage to enter and face the team. 

The smell of iron hits his nose the second he opens the door, overwhelming all his senses. He gapes in horror as he’s met with the dead bodies of familiar people spread around the hut. He takes a step in, and his knees buckle, hearing the quiet splash as he looks down in front of his feet. Joel’s dead, empty eye looks back at him, the right half of his face completely torn apart, the blood in a puddle around his head. Martyn’s breath hitches, his pupils shrinking in distress and anguish as he looks around the room.

“No…” A desperate whisper, as he sees the hut almost completely painted red. 

He can see Apo with her horns torn away, both of them plunged deep into her temples, as the body is leaning against the wall. He can see Scar on his back, the shirt, the skin and muscle right above his heart burst open, making a bloody mess with his heart in unrecognizable shape, with his dead, shocked eyes still glowing in the dim light of his magic. Jellie is curled around the Vex's neck, shaking, her fur stained red.  

“No, no, no…” The Siren chokes, stepping over Joel’s body and walking deeper into the room. His hands are shaking as he struggles to breathe, feeling bile make its way up his throat. How– could this happen?

He can see Acho’s face under Jimmy’s wing, as both lay side by side. One of Jimmy’s legs is twisted, a bone breaking the skin, while there’s a sword in the middle of his wing, right where Acho’s stomach should be. He can’t see under it, but the blood-soaked feathers and a puddle around them are enough to know that there is much more damage than he can see. A gruesome scene that the wing is hiding. 

“Please.. I ca–” A sob escaped him when he spotted another familiar figure. “No, no, no–”

Martyn scrambles to the body, his entire body trembling, as he drops down next to Mumbo. His face is burnt, as if one of his explosions was turned back on him, while there’s a giant wound on his neck, the red still gushing out. Blood is splattering from his throat, making choked noises. 

“Mumbo, you can’t– Please, you can’t– ” The Siren begs, holding his hands on the wound, trying to stop the red liquid, but he knows that won’t help. The wound isn’t just a deep cut; he can see the head almost fully decapitated from the body, but he can’t, he can’t, he can’t– He needs him. Martyn needs Mumbo so much, he can’t lose him. None of them . 

He can taste the salt on his lips, tears running down his face as he chokes on them, his breath coming out as a wheeze, as his whole insides feel like they are twisting. He’s dead. Mumbo is dead. He’s dead, like all of them. They are all dea–

There’s a scream coming from the roof. He flinches, looking around the room with his eyes blurry. People are missing. Where– Where are Grian and Owen?!

Martyn quickly wipes away his tears with the back of his palms, knowing that the red on his hands has smeared his face, as he stands up. He looks down at Mumbo for the last time, hearing his heart shattering into tiny pieces, and darts back to the exit. If they are– No. They are. They are alive, and he can help them; he needs to help them!

That hope shatters the second he steps out of the hut, blurry colors rushing in his eyes, as a body drops down in front of him. He chokes, taking a step back, as Owen looks up at him, his body covered in claw marks, one of his eyes glowing the orange he had seen happen before a few times.

“Gri...an...” The Sparrow whispers, as the glowing dims, the life slowly leaving his eyes, as his head drops to the ground.

The Siren hears a choked scream behind him, and stepping over Owen– he’s dead, he’s dead, he’s dead– he takes a few steps before turning around to have a full look at the roof. He gasps seeing Exor holding Grian in the air by his throat, its claws digging deep into his skin, the blood dripping down as Grian’s wings lay behind his back limp. 

He needs to move. He needs to get up there and help. He needs to– He–

He can’t move. His feet are firmly glued to the ground, and he feels out of breath and lightheaded. He can’t help. Exor reaches for Grian’s wing with its free hand, and he can see Grian’s body go tense with horror. Gripping the wing, with a quick tug to the side, a sound of the wing being torn away from Grian’s back, followed by the Sunbird's screams, fills his ears.

“NO–”

“And what are ya doing here?” Martyn jolts up, his eyes blurry with tears, as he looks around. He’s… in the fields. On– On the farm. He–

“...Martyn?” The same voice questions again, the tone now more worried and hesitant than surprised. The Siren looks around and finds Barney standing behind him with a shovel in hand, ready to work. The sun has just risen, from what Martyn can tell, he.. Huh.

“I–” Martyn starts, but his voice immediately cracks, followed by a wheeze, making him cringe as the teen raises his eyebrow at him, confused.

The young farmer sighs, turning back toward the barn not too far away. “Come on, Ma just made breakfast, ya can eat before she finishes cleaning dishes. Ya can tell her and Pa why yer here.”

Martyn stays on the ground for a bit, blinking back at Barney, as the boy turns around, not hearing any sound behind him.

“Well? Are ya coming, or do I have to call them here myself?” He asks, once again turning around and picking up the pace toward the barn.

The Siren stands up slowly, and for a second, he feels eyes on him. Quickly turning around, he catches a blur in the trees, a figure running away. Was it... here the whole night? Watching him?

Martyn shudders, suddenly feeling tired and distressed, as the memories of his nightmare flood back in. They will.. probably be fine if it stayed with him the whole night. Right..

With a sigh, his body trembling in slight fear, he turns around and walks toward the barn, not very excited to explain to Mary and Harley why exactly he spent the night sleeping in the fields of their farm.

---

Jimmy will admit (privately) that he has.. a bit of an ulterior motive for coming with Grian to the roof today. He wants to meet Ex- Scott for the same reasons as everyone else, yes, but he also… Well, he’s a medic. For a little over a week now he’s been working to become a more genuine medic thanks to Cordelia, and every time Grian comes back gushing over something he learned about Scott, Jimmy gets more.. concerned. Yes, he supposes the word he can use here is concerned.

Black sclera? Scott isn’t a full-blooded Demon, so that’s strange. A medical eyepatch? What’s the eyepatch covering– is it a wound that needs treating, something in the eye underneath that needs inspection? He could find out, he could help with that. A layered voice? Something in the blood or vocal cords could be causing that, and it’s usually fixable! Lost wings… 

Outside of the general horror that comes with that knowledge, Jimmy knows very well how important an Avian’s wings are to both their mental health and physical health. Wings are connected to muscles and tendons and bones, and all sorts of delicate things go on in an Avian’s back to facilitate flight. Magic does most of the work, of course– wings of any size, but especially the size that tends to prevail in Avians and Elf-Avians, would never allow said Avians to take to the sky on their own. The skeleton and musculature of wings allow motion, yes, but it’s magic that does the heavy lifting; quite literally. Every Avian’s wings has an additional, invisible structure of magic flowing like blood in their wings. Every bone, every muscle, every feather, has magic coursing through it. 

How the removal of an Avian’s wings would affect that Avian has never been studied, for pretty obvious reasons. There are plenty of theories though. Effects ranging from chronic pain to total paralysis to death. Wing clipping has horrid enough effects on an Avian’s psyche, removing the wings completely? Unheard of. In theory, removing an Avian’s wings would be so much more complicated that simply chopping them off, at least if the individual were to keep any range of motion whatsoever without immense pain. Only considering the physical aspect leaves disgusting enough implications, but the magical aspect? That magic having nowhere to go now that the outlet of the Avian’s wings just isn't there anymore? Where would it go? How would that affect the Avian?

Really, the question he’s asking is how is it affecting Scott?  

So, he’s going with Grian. He can’t exactly do a checkup on Scott, they’re much too skittish for that (and dangerous still, Jimmy, get your head in the game!) but he can at least visually inspect them. It won’t do much– he can only get so much information based on sight alone, and Scott hardly emotes regardless, but he can see some things. He.. He hopes, at least. So much theory without any fact isn’t doing him a lot of favors.

Of course, his thought process isn’t just directed to Scott right now. That’s where his medic brain is, but his.. him brain? He’s worried for Grian. Jimmy’s never seen his friends fight, not like what he saw last night. Martyn and Grian are two of his best friends on the entire planet, seeing them squabble is nothing new, but what he witnessed from them yesterday…

Martyn has every right to be angry and suspicious, they all know that. Jimmy is convinced that even Grian knows that, he’s just being stubborn because he’s Grian. He’s the only one of their group that trusts Scott even slightly– though Owen may actually be in that boat by now, apparently– but Martyn… Jimmy knows Martyn. So Jimmy knows that that stupid, clueless Siren is convinced that he’s been turned on recently. Grian’s.. comment didn’t help. Martyn has always taken things like that to heart, and this will be no different, Jimmy’s sure of it.

Martyn never returned after storming out the previous night. He didn’t return in the morning, didn’t return for lunch– it’s late afternoon now, and nobody’s seen him. Jimmy knows where he is, of course, knows that he’s safe and being taken care of by that farmer family at another edge of town, so he isn’t too concerned. Right now, his energy can be directed at his stubborn Sunbird friend. When Martyn finally comes back though, Jimmy is smothering him in mother hen energy, just you wait.  

“I saw them at Cordelia’s again,” the Canary finally muses aloud, glancing at the much-too-quiet Sunbird walking next to him. “They waved when I locked eyes– eye-? W-with them. This tiny little wave, it was somehow creepy and a little cute at the same time…”

Grian hums. That’s it. Just a hum, dammit, Grian, work with him here!  

“I waved back and they got all excited I think. I can’t, like.. really tell, y’know, because they don’t express much emotion but I swear they perked up a little! They didn’t wave again like they did with Owen though, weirdly enough.”

Grian hums again, this time with a small shrug. Ugh, this man–  

“You know sulking isn’t gonna change what you said, right?” Jimmy mutters, keeping his inflection as neutral as possible. That gets a flinch. “I get both sides of the argument, but calling him what you did.. saying what you said–”

“I know,” Grian croaks. He speaks! “I.. I’m gonna apologize when I see him next.”

“That’s a good start,” Jimmy nods. “...I think you should try to listen to his point of view more, Gri.”

“Wha-?”

“He’s trying to protect us,” the Canary barrels on. “All of us. I know you got this.. sudden, inexplicable attachment to them. But the rest of us don’t get that. We’re not as vocal about it, but we.. agree with at least most of what Martyn has been trying to tell you. I know that they’re hurt, I know that you feel for them, but Scott is dangerous. They’ve hurt us, Grian. As far as we knew until a week ago, they were trying to kill us. We have no real reason to believe this isn’t another ploy, like when they split us up or ran us in circles around the taiga. It could genuinely be a game to them, we can’t know for sure that they’re stalling for their own sake.”

Grian twitters in irritation, but it’s clear he’s listening. So Jimmy continues.

“Martyn is violent because he’s protective. You know that as well as I do. He’s angry because he wants to protect us and you’re not letting him. I.. I know that Scott is hurt. There are all sorts of reasons to want to try getting to know them, but immediately trusting them? Getting so close with no caution whatsoever? That’s not safe. We don’t feel safe. ”

Grian looks vaguely stricken at that. Perhaps it hadn’t crossed his mind that the rest of them felt things about this, felt unsafe because of it. Oh, Grian…

“We get that you want to help them, and we’re fine with that, but no caution whatsoever? Spending your evenings on a roof right in front of them– no buffer, nobody with you, gushing about them like they’re some sort of puppy you’ve adopted? It.. You haven’t been safe, and it’s affecting all of us differently. Martyn gets angry when he wants to protect, Grian. He just wants to protect you, he wants to protect all of us.”

“I-I didn’t..”

“Didn’t think of that?” Jimmy huffs. “I know. You’ve been tunnel visioned on Scott for a little over a week. None of us have been able to get through to you lately, we.. It’s scary. You’ve been scaring and worrying us, Martyn’s just the one that’s been saying something about it. Not that you ever listened to him.”

Grian flinches again, wings puffing as he bites his lip. 

“We want them to get better too,” Jimmy softens. “But not like this. Not at the cost of us. Martyn was right, and I think some part of you knows that. We have been.. neglected, as Martyn so eloquently put it.” Another flinch. “We’ve been connecting with each other more, with Owen, Apo and Acho, and that’s great, but… You haven’t. You spend your days on that roof, completely oblivious to the rest of us, and that’s not fair. It’s not right.”

“I didn’t.. I didn’t mean to say those things, I–”

“Yes you did,” Jimmy hums. “You see yourself in them, and that’s fine, Grian. We get it. You meant at least most of what you said– maybe not the way you said it, but you meant the meaning. We’re killers, and Scott’s a killer. We’re trying to survive, maybe they are too. You are desperate for redemption, for everything you’ve done– if Scott deserves it, you do too, am I right?”

Grian chirps sharply, shoulders hiked up tense. “Stop it–”

“If they can be helped, be redeemed, for the things they did? That means you can too, hm? If they can heal and grow past what they’ve done, who they’ve been, then you always could too. You see yourself in them, Grian, you see your chance in them.”

“Jimmy–”

“That’s not even fair to them, you know that, right? Projecting all of that onto them? You’re boxing them into something for yourself, consciously or not, and you need to snap out of it. Sooner rather than later, before you lose the rest of us.”

“I-I haven’t lost Martyn-! ”

“Not yet. But if this keeps up, you will. I think you know that too.” 

Grian wants to argue. He trusts his friends to be by his side, and well.. life can be difficult sometimes, so how are they friends if something like this brings them down so quickly? Yes, the fight was ugly, but.. he’s.. not losing Martyn, right?

He wants to scream out of frustration, because all of this tension seems to be suffocating him. He’s having bad days, he knows it, everyone knows it, even Martyn pointed it out yesterday, and he doesn’t understand how to stop. Is he really driven by pure desire to help, or like Jimmy said, just projecting onto Scott? Redemption…

He suddenly halts, grabbing Jimmy’s hand to make him stop too, looking at the hut with his brows furrowed. It’s easy to recognize Martyn’s figure even so far away. He’s standing in front of the door, fidgeting with his headband and bouncing on his heels, clearly deciding what to do next.

“Gria–”

“Shh!” He interrupts the Canary, keeping their voices low so Martyn doesn’t hear them. A minute or two later, the Siren slowly opens the door and walks into the hut, dragging his pillow and blanket behind him. Grian exhales sharply the second the door shuts, with Martyn out of view. 

“Wh– G, what the heck?” Jimmy sputters, looking between him and the door with an incredulous expression. “You’re actively avoiding him now? Seriously, Grian?” 

“I– I’m not avoiding him!” The Sunbird insists, his voice shaking. He turns toward the rocks next to the hut, deciding to follow their plan of meeting Scott. “He… I think we just need a little bit of time. I will talk to him, and I will do it today, but for now… let the others talk to him and make him sure that,” he cringes, avoiding eye contact. “That you all are on his side.”

Jimmy scrutinizes the Sunbird for a moment with a squint, before he sighs. “Fine. Roof we go, then.”

The two climb the rocks without another word. Grian settles in his normal spot– with Jimmy following suit, sitting next to him– and faces Scott. Because of course they’re already sitting there. Creepy.

“Hi, Scott,” Grian greets the assassin with a friendly, if weak, smile. “I brought Jimmy up with me today, I.. hope that’s alright?”

Scott seems to survey the Canary with a critical eye, and he can feel himself sweat a little. He really doesn’t want to judge, like, really doesn’t, but Gods that eye is unfairly freaking him out.

“H-hi,” Jimmy nervously waves, his own attempt at a smile awkward at best.

Scott just hums, gives the smallest of nods, and returns their attention to Grian. Huh. Approval, then? Probably? Jimmy swallows, trying his best not to fidget.

“I haven’t seen you around much today, so I might have a few good things to tell you about?” Grian says, tilting his head with a smile, getting attention from both Scott and Jimmy. “Me and Joel were helping out in the bakery today, you remember which one Joel is?” He asks, getting a slow nod in response from Scott.

Grian mentioned to all of them before that Scott doesn’t speak much, and that they’re actually learning some signs from him, but it still catches the Canary off guard when Scott puts his hand to his lips, hesitantly moving a curled finger up and down, and then circling the same finger around his eye.

The Sunbird lights up, nodding and repeating the same gesture. “Red Panda, yes. He was in the kitchen, he’s very good with cooking and baking, while I was on the counter! We got some of the baked goods, but I had other things to do and Jimmy to meet, so Joel took it back to the hut himself, I might get you some after? If you’d like it?”

Scott tilts his head, blinking back at Grian, before he gives another slow nod. 

“Great!” Grian exclaims, clapping his hands. “So the bakery is owned by this nice woman Lika, she was so nice to us the whole time, and even paid some extra with additional free goods. Honestly, it’s sad that she just needed help for one shift, I would love to work with her again. She told us some stories about her husband who is in another city right now, but should be coming back soon, and talked about some of the neighbors, we learned some new important names. That’s good, we have been here for a while now, but other than the people from the commissions, we know of no one.” He shakes his head, leaning back, putting all his weight on his hands.

Jimmy suddenly perks up, catching a perfect moment to join the one-sided conversation. “I.. I know of some people too! Working at the Clerics helps you a lot with the connections!” 

Scott blinks, and their left ear does this little flap when their attention turns leftward to the Canary. Their visible eye isn’t expressive, exactly, but.. somehow, there’s curiosity swimming in it. They’re quiet, but they’re listening.

“Y-yeah, lots of people come in every day,” Jimmy chuckles, a bit nervous at the attention but gaining traction quickly. “Cordelia has a few regulars with things like chronic pain or injuries that need regular check-ups, but people in farming villages get injured on a shockingly regular basis. There’s all sorts of illnesses people get from the fields, and some kids wind up hurting themselves with a tool or two, it’s chaos! Everyone’s so kind though. Pretty gruff, yeah, but plenty nice. I think it’s a South Imp’eria thing, honestly… or a farmer thing? Maybe even just a Southern farmer thing, haha!”

Grian seems endlessly amused by his rambling, but Scott is still listening intently. Jimmy could swear they’re leaning forward a little, ears swiveled toward him and eye looking into his Soul. It’s a little intense, but.. he finds that he doesn’t actually mind all that much. The staring starts to feel just.. attentive, instead of scrutinizing. Huh.

When Jimmy is finally done talking, Scott gives him the same hesitant nod, before they tilt their head and, lifting their hand back up, slowly sign something. It looks more like spelling, showing a letter one by one, and by looking at the Sunbird’s reaction, it’s probably something.. bad? 

“Yes, he.. He’s back, thanks,” Grian answers, his voice small. Ah, Martyn.

The Canary looks back at Grian with a frown. “They.. know what happened?” He asks with a hushed voice, tilting his head toward Scott. He knows that they can probably hear him, but..

“Ah.. y-yeah, they saw him run off last night,” Grian admits. “I.. They offered to keep an eye on him? And I said yes?”

“Wh- Grian, ” Jimmy hisses. “Dude, Martyn hates them! And they’re still bloody dangerous, G, c’mon–”

“They wouldn’t hurt him,” Grian stresses through gritted teeth.

“You can’t know that,” Jimmy sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You have to remember that the rest of us still feel unsafe being alone with them. Sending them after Martyn, at night, after an argument that bad?”

That gets a cringe out of the Sunbird, wings sheepishly tucking closer. “..Y-yeah.”

“You’re lucky it was clearly civil,” the Canary groans softly. “If Martyn had jumped at them in his frustration it could’ve ended any number of ways, Grian. Or if Scott had taken the opportunity to–”

“They wouldn’t,” Grian mutters, shoulders hunched. “I know the rest of you don’t get it, but they wouldn’t.”

“That’s not for you to decide,” Jimmy whispers, head tilted slightly. “You.. You can’t do that, Grian.”

“..Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah.”

“...Okay.” The Canary sighs heavily, rubbing his eyes. He really wishes he could understand Grian here. He can understand some of his thoughts, it’s pretty obvious if you know him well enough, but it’s apparently not enough to see everything. It’s like Grian is an open book, but written in a language that he doesn’t know, just navigating with two or three familiar words here and there. 

He looks back and winces, seeing Scott’s piercing gaze. He can see their brows slightly furrowed, as they look between the two, mostly keeping their eye on Jimmy. He lets out another sigh.

“I want to be friends, Scott,” he starts hesitantly, tilting his head and sending a worried glance back to Grian for a second. “But, we need some time, yeah? If this continues like this.. Just with nice conversations and no anger or violence between us, I think it will be good. For now though..” he cringes, shrinking in himself. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that..

Scott just blinks, glancing at Grian and back to Jimmy a couple more times. Then they nod the same hesitant, slow nod, their eye catching on the bandaged splint on Grian’s wing. Then his clawed hand raises again, and slowly spells something else out. Six letters again. 

“..Agreed, they said,” Grian mumbles, rubbing awkwardly at his arms. He glances at his own healing wing, seemingly catching where Scott’s eye went.

“Good,” Jimmy hums, nodding his head, before he follows both of their eyes to Grian’s wing. “It’s gonna be fine,” the Canary says hesitantly, for Scott to know. “I’m taking care of his wing, and Grian is also a great patient when it comes to something like wings, so the recovery is going smoothly. Won’t be able to tell it was broken in a few weeks,” he says, fidgeting with his fingers.

Scott blinks owlishly, then nods again, glancing down at their claws and picking at them. They almost look awkward, it’s.. a little cute. In the way a stray puppy is cute, which.. Really not the best analogy, Jimmy, geez–  

“A-actually, I could.. take a look at yours? Your wounds I mean, if.. If you wanted? Your eye especially..?” Jimmy tentatively offers, trying to keep his wings from anxiously fluttering. “Or others, or nothing at all, obviously, erm–”

Scott looks abruptly spooked, hands freezing in their fidgeting. Their eye locks back onto Jimmy, and he feels a little pinned in place by the sudden spotlight-like intensity of that one-eyed stare. 

“N-no pressure of course!” Jimmy stutters, feeling like he should seriously backtrack. “To each their own bud, really, it’s fine! No big deal at all! Forget I said anything, ah–”

“Tim, stop talking,” Grian whispers sharply, whacking the Canary with his good wing.

“Ow– yep, shutting up now,” Jimmy winces, jaw immediately clicking shut.

Scott seems to swallow, eyes darting between the Avians, before they sign some sort of waving motion much faster than their previous signs and bolt. They’ve disappeared between the trees before Jimmy can even flinch in surprise, caught off guard by the departure. 

“..Ah,” the Canary squeaks. “Erm. M-my bad-?”

“It’s fine,” Grian sighs. “They get spooked by all sorts of things, it’s alright, Tim. They’ll be back soon.”

“They.. will..?” Jimmy asks skeptically.

“Yep. I scared them off about three separate times those first three days I talked to them. They always came back, the next morning at the latest. They’re alright,” Grian assures him.

“I guess the topic of their wounds is forbidden?” The Canary asks with a nervous chuckle, while Grian sighs heavily, slowly standing up.

“We… I think it’s time we go back inside,” he says hesitantly, as he turns around and starts walking, Jimmy immediately scrambling behind him. 

“You’re gonna talk to Martyn, right?” Jimmy questions, as they slowly descend back to the ground.

Grian grimaces, the wings behind him shifting anxiously. “Depends.. Let’s see if he wants to talk first. I won’t be surprised if he starts avoiding me for a day or two, before he himself decides that it’s time to talk, so.. Let’s see how this will go,” he hums, turning back to the door, and with a heavy, sharp inhale, turns the handle down to let the two of them inside.

---

Martyn takes a deep breath, his webbed hand hesitating over the knob of the door. This feels.. way too similar to his nightmare. Logically, he knows he’s awake now. Logically, he saw Exo– ugh, Scott, up on the roof, no bloodied Owen on the ground or writhing Grian lifted into the air by its claws. Logically, he knows almost everyone is safe and sound inside, save for those that are out in the village somewhere. It doesn’t make it any easier to open the door.

He takes another breath, shakes his head a little, and finally turns the knob to drag his pillow and blanket into the hut. He swallows thickly, bracing for the sight of gore or death or–

Nope. Everyone is scattered around the clean, un- bloodstained hut, chatting quietly amongst themselves or simply lounging comfortably, though he doesn’t see Grian, Jimmy or Joel. That’s fine, it’s fine, he’s sure they’re fine. He’s not quite ready to see Grian yet anyway, not before–

“Mumbo,” he croaks, shuddering weakly at his own voice. Void, he feels pathetic, but maybe he has the right to be a little pathetic right now. He still sees flashes of his dead boyfriend every time he closes his eyes, he’s been seeing those flashes with different faces since he woke up. Seeing Mumbo now, simply sitting on their mat and looking up at Martyn with those lovely, lively, purple-so-dark-it-appears-black eyes feels like an utter miracle.

Mumbo can’t put into words the relief they felt when Martyn finally stepped through that cursed door. Since yesterday night, they stayed here waiting for their boyfriend to come back, so they could hold and comfort him after everything that happened– but the longer time stretched, the more anxious they were getting. 

With a little wave and a gentle smile, they pat down the place right next to them on the mat, inviting the Siren to sit by their side. Martyn takes the invite with a shaky smile, as he slowly stumbles toward the mat, dropping down. 

“Hey.. How are you feeling?” Mumbo asks nervously, but as softly as they can, tugging both of them down to the floor. 

Laying side by side, both turned toward each other, Martyn lets out a shaky breath, leaning closer into a hug as Mumbo sighs heavily, throwing their hand over the Siren and placing it gently on his back. “Talk to me, Martyn.”

Martyn hums, unsure. He stubbornly buries his head against the Vampire’s chest, hoping to the Dragon that they don’t notice the tremble of his hands. “..Wha’s there to talk about? Had a bicker with Grian ‘s all.”

But unfortunately for him, Mumbo doesn’t miss details, especially not when it comes to their lover. “A very serious bicker, wasn’t it?” They hum sadly, putting their chin on top of Martyn’s head. “Did you sleep well? I couldn’t tell if it was too cold outside.. Did you eat anything today? How are you feeling? Do you want me to do anything? Just say the word.”

Martyn can’t help but tense a little at that first question. No, no he did not sleep well, but like the Nether he’s saying that. “..I ate. Barney’s folks practically force-fed me, heh. I don’t.. I feel… I–” He cuts himself off with a vague frustrated noise, pressing his forehead hard into Mumbo’s chest as if fighting a headache. “Jus’ hold me. Please.” And ignore the way his voice broke there, thank you very much.  

Mumbo notices the absence of an answer for their first question, but doesn’t push further, deciding that it’s not the right time. “Of course, love,” they whisper, gently holding Martyn in an embrace, ignoring everything around them. They know there are still people around them, but for now, the two need some time to themselves. 

Owen sighs heavily on the other side of the hut, leaning against the wall. “This is so weird,” she mutters, staring down at the floor.

“It is, isn’t it?” Acho responds by her side, fidgeting with some kind of stress toy, clicking the buttons as they light up to show the next pattern. “Never imagined they would– click-whistle!– f-fight. I mean.. I knew Martyn would get into a fight, but honestly? I thought it would be with one of us someday,” star adds with a snort and a twitch of stars head, while Owen groans.

“Please don’t manifest it, he’s already out of it, and now that I’m getting closer with Scott, I’m afraid I’m gonna be next.” She rubs her eyes, looking back at the couple on the ground. She.. understands where that reaction came from, but also understands that both of them were somewhat wrong in that ‘conversation.’ She just hopes it’ll get better sooner rather than later. 

Slowly her gaze moves to another duo. Apo hasn’t left Scar’s side since morning, after Mumbo closed off from everyone, waiting for Martyn to come back. Really makes her wonder how close these two actually got, that even after hours of work and spending time with each other, they could keep up a conversation with so much enthusiasm, their hands flying all around and Jellie somehow comfortably sleeping between them. 

There’s suddenly a creak as the door starts opening, and the Sparrow winces, her eyes running between the door and Martyn, who seems to tense in the Vampire’s arms. 

“Home, sweet home,” a different voice cackles, stepping into the room. “I got the goods ,” Joel says with a bright grin, lifting up the bags in his arms. For a second his expression falters, as he notices the finally returned Martyn, but he immediately shakes it off, stepping farther into the room and sitting down in the center. “I baked this myself, so I won’t take any criticism, because my baking is always great!”

“Lizzie’s baking is always great,” Martyn snorts, sitting up and stubbornly taking Mumbo with him. “You just help her along and take credit for more than you actually do.”

“Rude, uncalled for, and untrue,” Joel grumbles, spreading out the bags and getting to work unpacking the cloth-wrapped goods inside. “I made Lobiani, everybody get one, c’mon, I spent all day on these!”

Apo snags two, one for herself and one for Scar, before promptly returning to the Vex’s side. Acho grabs two as well, handing one to Owen and sitting back down at his side. Martyn grumbles, flopping back down on the mat and nuzzling closer to Mumbo again, so Joel just rolls his eyes and tosses two wraps to the Vampire. They’re caught easily, so he folds up the empty bags and sets them aside, before finally picking a wall to sit against so he can unwrap and eat his own Lobiani. 

“Oh woah, that’s good,” Apo mutters, practically devouring the disk-shaped bread. “Are these beans? ”

“Beans in bread, yep,” Joel confirms. “I think Lika called them Lobio, or kidney beans? Sounds weird in Common, but they’re good.” 

“Huh!” Scar hums, taking his own ravenous bites. “Yummy! Thanks, Joel!”

The Red Panda grunts casually with a shrug, tearing off another piece of bread and catching the beans that spill out with his mouth. It is good, he did pretty damn well. “Might try making Khachapuri next time. ‘S basically this but with cheese, I think.”

“You know, I think this is the only good part of the run,” Scar giggles. “Every city or village has so many different things to offer, from commissions to clothes to food. I don’t think I’ve seen something like this in any other place so far?”

“Imp’eria is a rich place, huh,” Owen huffs, looking down at his own food. “Sad that it’s so corrupted, forces you to miss everything beautiful on this continent.”

The others shift awkwardly with their own sighs and huffs. If not for STARR…

“Back home,” Mumbo starts hesitantly. “My.. papa had a garden. It was a very big garden, filled with different, mostly tropical flowers. I never understood how at least half of them survived where we lived, but it was a very beautiful place. There was this.. part of the garden that was filled with purple spring starflowers, it was almost impossible to move around without crushing them; it was my dad’s favourite place, said the shape and the way it reflected the light at night from the lanterns reminded him of the stars.. He always said we had our own little Void in the garden, right behind our house. I… wish you all could see it. A beautiful place.”

Martyn hums sadly, leaning to his right, as he puts his head on the Vampire’s shoulder.

“That sounds lovely,” Acho hums with a warm, sympathetic smile. “Starflowers take a good balance of factors to grow well, your papa must be very proud of that garden.”

“He was. I-is,” Mumbo huffs, resting their cheek in Martyn’s hair. “I’m sure he still is, yes.”

“What’re starflowers?” Apo asks, part curious and part wanting to get that solemn look off the Vampire’s face. “I mean I can probably guess, but.. what were the ones in the garden like?”

Mumbo hums, a bittersweet smile twitching onto their face. “The ones papa grew tended to have six petals in a sort of.. rounded diamond shape? They had orange centers, and the petals started white there but faded into this really soft lavender color at the points. Some of them were a bit brighter of a purple, and I remember the bigger flowers having just fully violet petals with tiny white centers. Like little stars. They were beautiful.”

Martyn tilts his head up, planting a quick kiss on Mumbo’s jaw, as he whispers, “You’re gonna show me that one day,” causing the Vampire to softly chuckle in response.

“I will,” they say back, cupping the Siren’s face and bringing him higher, connecting their lips.

“Oh my god, here we go again,” Joel huffs, his mouth full. “Get a room!”

“We are in the room,” Martyn argues, pointing his finger. “Not our fault we couldn’t get a bigger place with a second one, so you’ll have to deal with us being mushy, thank you very much!”

“Well this is certainly something to walk into,” Jimmy deadpans from the door, making about half the room jump. How did none of them hear a creak that time-?

“I made Lobiani, Jim, c’mere and have one,” Joel waves a disk-shaped wad of cloth, pointedly ignoring the awkwardly shuffling Sunbird behind his brother-in-law.

“Oo, sweet, bean bread,” Jimmy chirps, snatching the item from Joel and unwrapping it to take an immediate large bite, melting to the floor. “Void I missed this stuff.”

“You’ve had it before?” Grian mumbles, sheepishly grabbing one of his own. He avoids looking at Martyn at all costs, feathered ears pinned to his hair.

“Lizzie made it a lot growing up, especially when we already had boiled beans ready,” Jimmy hums between bites. “She always said it was just quick and easy to bake, so she made it often.”

“How come I never knew this?” Joel gasps, mock-incredulous.

“You never asked,” the Canary shrugs, hiding his teasing grin behind another bite of bread.

“How are you still eating this?” Grian asks, tilting his head. “Joel, weren't you supposed to be here like, almost an hour ago? Were you all waiting or something?”

“Ah no,” Joel answers sheepishly. “I was walking back after we went different ways, and I was walking by the shop where Mumbo and I previously helped out and the owner saw me and decided to grab me for half an hour to help again,” he grumbles, before lighting up with a smirk. “But I got even more money today!” He declares, taking out not one, not two, but three different money bags that they are given after the commissions. 

“Gimme, gimme,” Scar says with a giggle, moving his hands in a grabbing motion, as Joel chuckles and throws the bags to the Vex. “Perfect! Now lemme count how much we all got today,” he whispers with his tongue slightly out, as he opens the bags and starts counting, Apo looking down at the money by his side.

Grian can feel Martyn’s gaze stabbing at the back of his head, but he refuses to turn around. He can’t face the Siren, can’t face what he said, can’t–

Then Martyn’s standing, grabbing Grian by the wrist and practically dragging him out of the hut. “We’ll be back soon, don’t wait up,” he calls back to the room, before opening the door and continuing to drag the stumbling Sunbird outside. “We need to talk.”

“Martyn w-wait–”

“No. We need to talk about this, because I know you, and I know you’ll be stewing in your guilt for the rest of your days if we don’t have this conversation now. So sit down and shut up, ‘kay?”

Grian’s mouth clacks shut, and he obediently sits on the nearest large rock, letting gravity take him a bit heavier than necessary. He swallows thickly, wings puffed with anxiety and hands fidgeting with the cloth around the Lobiani he still hasn’t unwrapped.

Martyn stands in front of him, hand crossed over his chest, and his foot tapping on the ground anxiously. “I–” He cringes slightly before he takes a deep breath. “I’m not gonna apologize for anything I said yesterday, I hope you knew this, and if you didn’t, well now you do. You made me feel bad for all the tension in the group and hurt me with your choice of words, so no, I’m not apologizing for anything that happened.”

“I-I wouldn’t want you to, Martyn,” Grian murmurs, staring holes into the ground. “I’m sorry. I.. Not only did I just say awful things in general, I haven’t been.. I-I haven’t considered your side of things until now. I haven’t considered any side but my own, and that’s.. It’s not right. We’re a team, you’re my friends, I should’ve been hearing you out. I should’ve listened, but I’ve had my head in the sand for over a week now and.. Martyn I am so sorry– ” he practically chokes out a sob that startles himself, and he only now notices that his hands are shaking. Fuck. “Gods, I’m so sorry M, I’ve been such a terrible friend to you lately, I didn’t just hurt you yesterday I’ve been hurting you since we got here, I–”

The Siren sighs heavily, as he moves closer to the rock and sits down next to Grian. “Listen, Gri… I know that most of us aren’t really in a.. great headspace right now, both you and I included, so I’m not gonna be mad, okay? And I’m not gonna hold this over you, it’s just… I want you to understand that this is the way my brain works . I–” His voice breaks for a second, as he turns away, refusing to look at the Sunbird. “I’m scared, okay? I.. don’t tend to say that, so take it as you wish. I want you to listen to me when I’m telling you that I think we are in danger, and gods , if you want to still hang around that dog, at least try to be careful and communicate with us more. I feel like we are losing you.. I don’t like losing people that are dear to me.”

Grian sniffs, rubbing roughly at his eyes. Then he sighs, fidgeting with the baking cloth. “...Timmy made me realize that I.. I’ve been sort of.. projecting onto Scott..? I-I knew I related to them, I.. I see myself in them, Martyn. The W–” The Sunbird shudders, gritting his teeth. “The place I was stuck in after Evo collapsed was.. like a cage. But it was a nice cage for a while, and I.. I’ve done things I’m not proud of, Martyn, like all of us have. I-I guess, subconsciously, I thought… If Scott can re-learn how to be a person.. I can too. If Scott isn’t defined by what they’ve done for STARR, then I’m not defined by what I did for Them. It’s.. Maybe it’s stupid, I just…” He cuts himself off again with a low, wet noise of frustration, rubbing at his eyes again.

Martyn listens to every word with a frown, relating to Grian’s thoughts more than the Sunbird probably realizes, but.. definitely in a different way. “It’s.. not stupid, Gri. We all realized by now that you saw yourself in… them , I guess I just never realized how deep it went.” He sighs, picking at his claws, trying to form his thoughts in an actual sentence. He at least understands now why Grian was so angry and upset at him. Being so aggressive toward Scott probably meant for him that Martyn would treat him the same in other circumstances. He asked so many times for him to be more tolerant toward Scott, but he ignored it and hurt Grian without realizing it. It’d probably felt like a personal attack every time, like some sort of betrayal. “I understand some of your thoughts, but I guess you and I are... very different when it comes to this kind of thinking, huh.”

Grian huffs in a sort of half-amused fondness, once again fidgeting with the baking cloth. “Well I already knew that. I..” He hums, somehow looking even more unsure now, but he soon slumps with a heavy sigh. “..I-I’ve been thinking a little, since Jimmy and I had that talk.. would.. Would it make you all feel.. s-safer.. if they were restrained..?”

Martyn perks up, turning back to the Sunbird in surprise. “Wait, what? You– You’d do that? I mean, if we found a way to actually restrain it, yeah, it totally would, because I would know that it can’t hurt while you talk to it, but are you actually gonna do that? Are you gonna allow that? What about the whole let it feel safe with us thing you had going on?”

“I-I wouldn’t exactly like it,” Grian hisses, despite his shoulders being sagged in defeat. “But.. I want you all to feel safe, alright? You and Tim opened my eyes, and.. I want to be better for you all. Honestly, Scott.. might let me, based on what I’ve learned. They seem a lot more concerned with making me feel safe than being safe themself. It’s.. concerning, but.. if it’d help you all…”

Martyn stays silent for a minute or two, thinking it over. He doesn’t think Ex– Scott would allow this so easily, considering how it “avoided” going back to STARR because of it supposedly being restrained there, but.. It’s worth a try, isn’t it?

“Okay,” he finally says, shifting nervously. “We can.. restrain it, and after that, I’ll feel much safer with the idea of having it around our family. At least, we can try, but what happens if it doesn’t allow us to restrain it?”

“...Then I’ll ask them to leave us alone for a while,” the Sunbird sighs shakily, hugging his knees to his chest with his unoccupied hand and resting his chin on top, his other hand still fidgeting with the baking cloth. “I’ll stop meeting with them. But I’m asking, and if they agree.. I’ll restrain them. You guys can check the security of the tie after if you want, but.. I’m the one they’re most comfortable with. I imagine I’m the only one they’ll let get close with rope, let alone close enough to tie them up with it.”

Martyn sighs heavily, rubbing his eyes. “Okay.. Okay, we can do that, but… let at least Acho be around. Not necessarily close, just in sight so if something goes wrong after you ask that he will be able to help, he’s the quickest and strongest of us, so if the need arises…”

Grian’s face twists, but he nods firmly, before sighing softly and slumping into himself, his good wing curling around him slightly. “..Yeah. Okay, I’ll ask Acho to be nearby. I…” Another sigh, heavier this time. “..I’m sorry, again. For the things I said to you. Especially calling you something so juvenile and plain mean, but all of it was.. uncalled for. I’m really sorry.”

Martyn smiles sadly, looking away. “We’ve joked about me being a fish quite a lot in the group, honestly I don’t usually mind, because it is true.. You’re part bird, just like I’m part fish, and it’s fine, it’s just… You know I’m not new to this whole using your species as an insult thing, it’s quite popular against all hybrids, I guess I just.. never thought that one of these days, all of these jokes about me being a fish would actually turn into something else in this group, it.. took me off guard and considering my experience with it, hurt more than it should have, but well..” He sighs, scratching his neck just underneath his gills. “You said it like you meant it and I know that it was your anger talking.. I know you’re not like that Grian, so I will accept your apology and move on, okay? Just.. promise not to do that again… And I think we should.. stop with those jokes for a bit, until I’m more comfortable with joking around about it, yeah?”

“Of course,” Grian immediately agrees, zero hesitation. “Promise. I won’t say stupid shit like that again.” Then he does hesitate, for just a moment, before letting himself fall sideways against his friend in a sort of armless hug. He can’t exactly wrap his splinted wing around the Siren, so he settles for just.. leaning on him, head tentatively lowering to rest on his shoulder. “Thanks, M.”

Martyn chuckles weakly, leaning toward Grian in response and putting his head on top of the Sunbird’s. “We need to talk to each other more, instead of drowning ourselves in miscommunications, also probably learn how to listen, I’ve been doing that for a bit now,” he jokes, as he lifts his head and grabs Grian’s hand, quickly standing up taking the other with him. “Now come on, let’s go back to the others before they think that we fucked it up even more.”

Grian snorts, following Martyn back inside much more comfortably than the half-drag of before. Just for a second, he steals a glance at the roof of the hut. Scott isn’t back yet, which is expected, but.. they probably will be tomorrow. It’d be the best time to.. to ask. Void… What’s he gotten himself into now?

He shakes the thought away. Something to worry about later. He follows Martyn into the hut, kicking the door closed behind him and finally unwrapping his Lobiani. Huh. Joel did really well, it’s good.

“Oh Gods, they’re back to normal,” the Red Panda in question groans in relief. Grian sees the others physically slump in matching solace, and fights the urge to roll his eyes at the dramatics.

Martyn returns to Mumbo’s side, wordless but smiling, which seems to be enough for the Vampire. The two are wrapped back up in each other’s arms soon enough, so Grian ends up hovering near Jimmy again, eating his Lobiani in comfortable silence. No one seems willing to break it again. It’s nice. 

He.. He has been neglecting this, hasn’t he? Just existing with his team, his friends– family, Martyn said. Family sounds.. good. He likes that word. He’s been missing out, entirely of his own accord. He won’t keep making that mistake. He needs to be here, present, not just as their Captain but.. He needs to be a friend. A real friend, one that actually puts forth the effort to be closer to the others. He can work on that. Probably. Definitely.

---

It’s early morning the next day when Grian decided to look for Acho. No one’s left for their respective jobs or commissions yet, so with only a slight search, he finds the Fae gathering stars things for the day.

“Hey Acho, can I talk to you for a sec?” He sheepishly questions, trying not to fidget. “Shouldn’t take too long.”

The pink-haired Fae turns to face him with what honestly reads as a painfully awkward smile, and it only makes the Sunbird cringe inside. If only he’d been using this time to get closer to literally anyone–

“Sure, Grian,” Acho hums, eyes friendly and warm. They sling their bag over their shoulder and give a small wave to Owen, moving a little closer to Grian while the Sparrow moves away to give them a little privacy. “What’s up?”

“Ah– I. Erm.” Grian clears his throat, trying very hard not to let the small wings behind his ears flap with anxiety. “I.. wanted to ask you about something? Make a request, I guess? If that’s okay..?”

Acho’s head tilts, and he huffs a small chuckle. “Of course it’s okay, Grian. I don’t bite, dude, we may not be the closest but I like to think we’re at least a little trauma bonded by now.”

The wry joke gets a snort from Grian, and he feels just a bit of his tension ease. Right. Guilt aside, he isn’t completely isolated from these people just because of a week of being a bit of a jerk. He’s spent a year on the run with them, after all. “So.. I had a couple talks. With Tim and Martyn? I.. came to a few realizations, which led to a couple conclusions, and er– well. I.. haven’t been very pleasant recently and.. Tim made me finally realize how much danger I’ve been putting you guys in. Or.. made you feel like I was putting you in? I.. want to help you all feel a little more safe while not abandoning my goal to help Scott feel like a person again, y’know?”

Acho nods along with a mildly perplexed expression. “I.. think I’m following, yes, but I’m not sure where you’re going with this..?”

“I.. want to go back to the original plan. Restraining them, maybe having somebody guard them, just.. having them feel like less of a threat. I.. don’t want to just jump them though..? First of all because there’s no way in the Overworld, Nether or End that it would work, but also because they just.. I can’t do that to them, I’ve gotten bloody attached…”

Acho hums in hesitant understanding, head tilting slightly. He had heard enough half-asleep rants from Owen to know that she was also growing quite soft for the wordless assassin, and he isn’t exactly surprised that Grian is attached. He could’ve guessed that on his own, really. Still… “What’s this have to do with me, Grian?”

“R-right,” the Sunbird stutters, wings fluffing momentarily. “Right, erm.. I’m going to ask them. If. If I can tie them up. I.. wanted to ask if you could.. maybe be nearby, just in case. Precautionary measure, yeah? You’re.. strong, and fast, maybe even on par with Scott and… I’m willing to admit that they are.. a little unpredictable. And unstable. M-maybe.”

This was weird. Acho isn’t gonna say it out loud, especially wording it like this, but this whole bit keeps him still in shock trying to gather his thoughts. He understands what Grian is talking about, of course he does, but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s weird.  

“I can be there, yes,” the Fae answers hesitantly, nodding. “I’m surprised you’re asking me about this, to be honest.. In strength Joel is close to me, while Mumbo always manages to somehow keep up behind me with his lanky legs, so I didn’t expect you to come to me,” they admit, tilting their head. “Don’t know what gave you this idea, but a nice surprise to be honest, I will do my best.”

Grian hums, fidgeting with his fingers and looking anywhere but up at the Fae. “..Thank you, Acho. I’m.. t-trying to do better by all of you, but especially you three. I haven’t.. made an effort to know you, s-so I’m trying to remedy that. If it’s not too late to do so, at least.”

Acho blinks, fully knocked off center now. Okay, star can tentatively believe Grian wanting to include them all in strategy going forward– even if it’s weird as heck being trusted like that so suddenly– but personally? As a person, as a friend? Weird. Really, really weird.

“It’s.. It’s not,” the Fae mutters, swallowing their nerves. “Too late, I mean. It’s appreciated actually. A lot. Um. I mean, you also don’t need to feel bad about it, it’s just.. We never made any effort to know any of you either, until Apo and Scar, I guess. It’s just.. hard, you know? When we met, all of you were already all buddy-buddy, and it felt like we were intruding, and these days, it’s like we are just.. some kind of shadow trailing behind. Both sides are at fault, I guess..”

Grian next exhale shudders, and he abruptly feels like he’s fighting tears. Gods, that was weirdly vulnerable for Acho. It makes him feel a little awful, really, but… “..I guess,” he murmurs an agreement, rubbing awkwardly at his arms. “You.. aren’t intruding, I can promise you that much. We should’ve made that clear from the start.”

“Shoulda, woulda, coulda,” Acho snorts. “We keep going like this, we'll be apologizing in circles, just.. Let’s agree all of us could’ve done better?”

“Yeah,” Grian huffs, a tentative smile lifting onto his face. “Yeah, deal.”

“So uh, when do you want to do this? We go to the roof now and wait or talk to him this afternoon? I can skip the work at the tavern, if it’s needed,” the Fae says, tilting stars head.

“Ah, that’s not necessary!” Grian waves his hands as if placating. “I doubt Scott’s back yet, Tim kind of spooked them off yesterday, er.. It can wait, Acho, thank you. Maybe this afternoon or evening, depending on when we’re both done..?”

Acho hums, nodding along. “Alright, that sounds good too. I’ll see you then, I suppose.” With that, the Fae turns on his heel and leaves to do.. whatever it is he does, sending a wave over his shoulder before continuing onward.

Grian slumps with a light sigh, half relieved that Acho agreed and half dreading what they agreed to. Why’d he have to go and get attached to the assassin, whyyyyy…  

He sighs again, before straightening and stretching out his good wing, as well as his arms. He feels and hears a satisfying pop in his back, before grabbing his bag from the floor and looping it over his shoulder. He has work to do. Then.. Then dread. Save it for later. Yep. Later.

~

It’s later, the dread is back, and Grian does not want to do this.  

He likes to think he’s bonded with Scott, at least a little. They’re more expressive with him, they’re attentive, dare he say trusting? It feels like trust. And it seriously feels like he’s about to violate that tentative trust. He wants his friends to feel safe, he really does! He just.. really hates that he has to go this far for that to happen. Restraining Scott was the original plan, sure, but that was when he thought they wanted to kill him! Now he’s.. not so sure. He needs to do this, though. Even if he really doesn’t want to.

With Acho several feet behind him, he makes his way up the rock wall to the roof of the hut, rope circled through one of his belt loops and feeling so much heavier than it actually is. Scott is sitting on their usual tree branch, legs swinging just slightly as if swayed by the wind, and their ears perk when they spot Grian. It feels like a punch in the gut. They don’t smile, but they look so excited to see him every time he’s up here. Void.

“Good afternoon, Scott,” the Sunbird greets with a painfully awkward smile. He gets a slow nod in return as always, but he can tell they’ve locked onto Acho, regardless of how far away star’s staying for now. “That’s Acho. He’s gonna hang out over there for a bit, is that alright?”

Scott soon nods again, seemingly satisfied with whatever they found in their.. examination of the Fae, as they turn their attention back to Grian. He can do this. He can…

“S-so.. I have something a little different to speak with you about today, buddy,” he starts, trying not to fidget with the rope at his side. “I.. I had some talks with my friends yesterday after you left, and erm…” He can’t do this he can’t do this fuuuck–

Deep breath, Grian, for Dragon’s sake. “You remember Jimmy from yesterday? The– The Canary? He said that the others need some.. time to feel safe around you, and after talking with the others, I guess most of them feel the same. But it’s not just about time…” He says awkwardly, tilting his head with a frown. “They think that I’m in.. danger around you. I think it makes it worse for them, much harder to trust? Because they are constantly dealing with anxiety over this. And I know this might sound bad , but I– I promise that I want the best for all of us, you included,” he quickly adds, trying not to make Scott panic. “It’s just.. I think they would feel much better if they knew that you weren’t dangerous? If you.. If you weren’t able to attack me when I’m vulnerable.”

For a second his eyes move down toward the rope, before he looks down at the roof, biting down on his lip. “Will it be okay.. if I ah– tied? You?” He asks, wincing and immediately shrinking into himself. 

Total silence. He can’t make himself look up to see Scott’s reaction to all of this, fidgeting nervously with his fingers. That is, until he hears a sharp inhale and a hasty shuffle forward from Acho, which startles him enough to look back up only to be nearly nose to nose with Scott. Holy shit they were silent–

“W̷̞̳̋í̷̬̼͆ṭ̵͗h̸̩͋͑ ̸̮̽͝ẁ̶̬̩̚ȟ̷͚a̴̢͚̓t̵͓̀?̸̢̇” They mutter, head tilted slightly. Somehow it doesn’t feel menacing, but it does have.. an edge.

“Wi-?” Grian squeaks, clearing his throat and swallowing. “Er. R-rope. The rope on my belt.”

Scott’s dull blue eye darts down, locking onto the rope. Grian is frozen solid when their claws reach for it, and he can only manage to turn his head a little bit to watch them just.. seemingly caress the braided length of rope. Now they look more curious than anything.

“Ņ̷̛̣͗o̷̖͑̆.̴̨̾.̷͎̙̋̊.̷̱̬̾͝ ̸͔͊͊ć̸̰͝h̷̥̘̽ă̴̬̌ì̸̮̂n̵̞̑̅?̸̘̈́͐” They whisper, eye darting back up to meet Grian’s. He fights the urge to shiver under the stare.

“N-no. No chain, just.. just rope,” he croaks, chancing a glance at Acho. The Fae is hovering right by the edge of the roof, clearly ready to bolt forward the moment Scott so much as twitches wrong. He looks back at Scott. “We don’t.. erm. We don’t have any.. chains. A-and it’d be a bit much, heh..”

Scott stares for several seconds, then looks back down at the rope. Then they finally shuffle backward a bit, sitting cross-legged right in front of Grian. They simply nod, before they freeze for a second and shake their head. “N̷͙̈o̷̧̾͑͜t̶̨̜̓ ̴͓̾͌i̷̮͖̅ņ̸̇ ̶̩̝̂̉ṯ̵̽h̶̘̝̐͌e̸̪͕͛ ̴̝͑̌h̷͕̏ũ̵̪t̸͍̐͠ͅ,” they hiss firmly, their only eye moving toward the mat and the blanket on the roof, in the same place Grian left it. “H̷̭̉ȇ̸̜́ŕ̶͕e̷̩̐̂.”

“Here,” Grian repeats hesitantly with a nod. It’s... understandable why they wouldn’t want to be inside; the rope would probably already bring some discomfort and bring unpleasant memories, but being tied in a small room would probably feel even worse, especially with this particular group; because while some showed interest toward Scott, others have been nothing but aggressive. It would probably remind Scott too much of the STARR Labs… Oh god, The fact that they were agreeing to be tied up was already a miracle, and well... If they wish to be on the roof instead of the warm room for it to happen, who is Grian to say no?

This still makes him very uncomfortable. The idea of having them like this makes him nervous, but the others need this. He.. he can’t neglect their feelings and fear any more.

With a deep breath, he unclips the rope from his belt and moves forward as slowly as he can. Scott sits there, unmoving, as he rounds them and begins tying them as securely as he knows how. Their claws twitch occasionally, but otherwise they just.. sit still and let themself be restrained. Grian makes sure their hands have enough mobility to be semi-comfortable, but not enough to curl up and cut through the rope like they did with that net from the first week of the chase. He doesn’t think they would, but.. peace of mind for his friends, if nothing else.

Once satisfied, he slumps backward with a sigh, rubbing at his face. He hates this so much. He watches passively as Acho finally moves forward, muttering an awkward greeting to Scott and crouching down to look over the rope’s security. Grian doesn’t have the energy to be offended. Peace of mind. Peace of mind.

As Acho looks over the rope, he sighs, straightening up and looking back at Grian. “I think this is enough,” he confirms with a nod, before turning back to Scott. He shifts on his feet, slightly nervous, as he asks, “It’s not too tight to hurt, right, Scott?”

Scott’s ear flicks, and they shake their head with a low hum, appearing neutral and unbothered as always. They don’t even fidget in the bonds, just accepting the rope restraining them without so much as a squirm. 

Grian finally gathers his thoughts, calming down, as he looks back at Scott, who’s sitting in front of him like nothing. “Okay… Rules. Yeah, let’s make rules,” he starts slowly, looking over the ropes, slightly cringing. “I really don’t want to make this seem like you’re a prisoner or something, fuck, okay… I will.. bring someone else with me when I bring food so I can take off your ropes without making others worried, yeah? You will be able to eat freely, and after we tie you up again. And– And toilet, yeah, we’ll probably have to untie you at least three times a day. Owen and I are still home, so we will be available. Yeah…” Acho hums at his side, sending a curious look down at the Sunbird, but he decides to ignore it. 

Scott nods once at the end of his nervous rant, one of their boots tapping some sort of jerky not-rhythm on the roof. Part of Grian could swear it sounds a little like Morse Code, with some taps and drags of his foot alongside pauses, though it also sounds like a weird rhythm. He sees Acho squinting slightly, so star must be mentally translating if it is Morse, right? Huh.

“This.. also does mean we can’t have our sign lessons for a while.. ugh,” Grian groans weakly. “I could maybe still show you them, but you can’t practice like this…”

“G̸͙̋̍o̶̭̙͋̂ọ̶̉d̸̯͝ ̴̥̦̌m̵̩͠e̴̙͇̋̈m̴̘͖̌͘ǫ̷̑r̷͉̮̃̚y̵̳͇̒,” Scott reminds the Sunbird.

“..Right,” Grian sighs. “Yeah, I’ll just.. I’ll show you the signs for now. Visual lessons, sure, just.. u-until the others feel safe enough. Yeah.”

Scott nods that slow nod of theirs, foot still tapping on the roof. Grian finally pays attention to it, curious despite himself, and.. oh. It’s the same word, over and over again.

Tap tap tap. Tap drag. Tap tap drag tap. Tap.

Safe. They’re repeating the word safe. Void, that makes him feel so much worse, they look so calm but they’re self-soothing. For the love of the bloody fucking Dragon, he kind of wants to throw up. He sees Acho looking similarly disturbed from the corner of his eye, which.. Good to know he doesn’t just feel like this because he’s attached..?

Then the Sunbird eyes the object around Scott’s throat. The collar he’d noticed ages ago, had half-registered when he’d gotten close enough during the net trap incident, had briefly glanced at when Scott pinned him in the forest. Every time he’d been too.. distracted to give the thing any real thought. He’d been occupied with the trap, occupied with getting through to Scott, and had only started truly considering the collar’s existence during the past week on the roof. Seeing it every day, a sleek black circlet around his neck right under his Adam's Apple, a silver clasp in front. For all intents and purposes, it looked like a person-sized dog collar. It made him ill, wondering how he’d simply ignored it the first several times he got a good look at it.

He’d been too afraid to ask. Both because he didn’t think Scott was ready to get close enough for Grian to take it off, but also because he’s a damn coward. Now though… 

“Scott, do you.. Why do you have a collar?” He decides to ask, shoulders laced with tension. He sees Acho snap to attention out of the corner of his eye, stars face twisting slightly and stars own eyes darting to Scott’s throat. Scott simply glances at him, ear flicking again.

"Ẅ̸̢́͝h̸͙͇̐y̶̲͌͊ ̷͈̍͘w̶̦̣̐o̴̪͛͗u̴͇͍͐l̵̨͕͑d̶͎͇̄n̴̙̏'̴̮̏͘t̷̞͔͘ ̶̝̕Ḭ̸͈̌͂?̸̯͐̿"

Grian cringes, trying to find the best wording for this. Conditioning is a shitty thing to combat, and this feels.. delicate. How can he explain to this man that what’s happened, what’s still happening to him, isn’t normal? That people aren’t meant to be treated like this? Grounding him with stories of normal life is one thing, but making him realize what normal is is another deal entirely.

The Sunbird sighs heavily, risking it and crawling a bit closer to Scott, but still keeping some of the distance. “It’s just.. People don’t usually.. wear them . Ah.. look at me!” He suddenly exclaims, pointing at his own neck and then to Acho’s. “Or at Acho! Neither of us have them, and if you remember Jimmy, Martyn or Owen that were here before, they didn’t have them either! It’s usually for..” He cringes, tilting his head. “For the.. animals? Not for people.. It’s for animals to show that they are not wild and they have an owner, people aren’t owned by someone. You aren’t owned by someone to wear it. Are you.. okay with it? Does it hurt or maybe make it harder to breathe? I can.. take it off if you’ll allow me..”

Scott squints slightly. He looks so confused, and has seemingly locked onto just one of those sentences. “.̴͖̪͗.̷̞̗͊̿.̷̹̭̈́̇Y̷̧̽e̶͉͒s̵̜͝ ̴̧̊̐I̶̤͆ ̷̹̎͆a̴̧͗m̸͇͐?̶͖͂ ̷̧̭͠I̸̭̾ ̷͓͋ȁ̷̝̰m̴̥̲̆ ̴͍̠̄̃ñ̶̯̺͝o̶̙͔̓t̶̖͗.̴̒̄͜.̵͍̅͗ ̵̡͓̈́͑p̴̹̚e̸̪͕̅̓o̸̺̲̎͛p̸̨̭̎l̸̦͉͊e̴͙͇̊͝.̸͔̠̿͝ ̴͇̾D̴̞̲̃͗ö̸͕̠g̸͔͌͋,̶̦͘̚ ̶̤̖̿r̵̜̥͒̒e̶̜͛͘m̷͈̖̽͠ẽ̶̪ṁ̶̛̩̩b̶̰̄͑ĕ̵̪r̸̨̛̹?̸̮́̈”

Grian immediately shakes his head in distress, while Acho sighs heavily, looking down at the Sunbird with pity. “That’s what they call you. And they are bad people, they want you to think like that, but they are wrong, Scott,” he says hesitantly, his hands shaking. “Dogs.. are little animals that can’t talk, they are mostly human companions, they are animal friends for humans.. You’re.. You’re a person. Yes, you are a hybrid, but not of a dog and even if you were, calling you that and disregarding your humanity would be.. bad…”  

Fishy. He wants to cry. Fuck he wants to cry so much. He’s no better than them, fuck. 

“You are.. an avian, just like me,” Grian explains, trying to hold the tears in. Not now. Not now. “And you are a person. Not a dog.”

Scott just blinks, uncomprehending practically any of what Grian just said. Then they glance at Grian’s wings, tilt their head, and mutter, “Í̸͈̈ ̴̨͇̂͐h̴̯̜̍ả̸͍͠v̶̭͕̅̍e̵͇͜͝n̶̳̋̏'̶̥͐ţ̸͉̂̄ ̸̗͊̐b̷͚̎̂ȇ̴̗͍e̴͉̿n̶͕̱̂̀ ̸̗̙́̿a̶̲̍̆n̸͙̔̂ ̴̹̗́̃ȁ̵̰͙̀v̵̘͐́i̷͖̋̽ǡ̷͕n̴͔̈́ ̶̗̬̏̕s̶̥͂̄i̷͓̓̕ň̷͓̮͝c̷̡̜̃̓ḙ̷̋ ̷̧̏̾I̸̫̖̎ ̶̭̎̚w̷̝͚͗ā̷̤̝s̴̺̓ ̸̦̥́ê̵̝̼̎i̶̲͌̓ǧ̴͓͠h̴͔̀ẗ̸͍̩́.̴̡͎̎́ ̵̡͎͒͠İ̷͇ ̴̤̑a̵̧̓m̸͈̑ ̷͓̆̐a̵̟͂͜ ̶̫̗̾̎d̴͇̅o̷̠͑̄g̷̥̅̚ ̵̤͂n̸͌̄͜o̶̮͌ͅw̴͎͇͑.̵̧̂̃”

“It doesn’t work like that, Scott..” Grian argues back softly. “Just because they took some of your features away, doesn’t mean you’re not Avian anymore.. You.. you chirped back there.. remember?” He asks desperately. “Just that already proves your nature. I understood you.. Your voice reached me, Scott.” Eight. Eight. Eight. Eight. He sobs, wiping the tears away. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry you had to go through that, Scott, no one deserves something like that, but I promise you that it changes nothing when it comes to your identity. It changed stuff, yes, but not who you are.”

Scott is actually tense now, brows slightly furrowed and ears tilted back, just enough to be noticeable. “T̷̖͜͝h̶͈̋͝a̴̰̬͛̾t̷͈̽ ̴̧̓̽s̶͎̠͌͠o̶͉͝ư̶͓ͅn̵̻͝d̸̦͒͘ ̵̝͉͘w̸̽͜ä̶̼́s̸̖̮̚ ̸̽͜a̶͝ͅ ̸̭̈̐f̸̢̠̃͘ĺ̷̯̌a̸̧̼͋͐ŵ̷̺,” they whisper, looking away from the Sunbird and staring at the roof, as if.. ashamed. “Ǐ̷͔̱̳t̷̤͎̟̿͗́́̕ ̶͎̹͍̥͐͑͠w̵̨̗̥͔̏̚i̸͕͛̇̌̓l̶̪̮̝̍̉̐̚̕l̵̯̬̅͊͗ ̷̖̅̇n̵̮̓ǫ̶͕̲͍́͌t̷͉͔̙͓̾͝ ̵̯̗̝̝͈̉̎́́h̸̛̖͖̣͚̉̔́̃a̶̬̽p̷̧͗͒p̷̦͙̋͐͒̎̕ȩ̶̥͓̗͒͛̒͗̍n̴̰͔̈̈́͂͋̍ ̸̫̟̮͗̈̃͌̐a̶̝̝̰̻̔ͅġ̸͇̖̰̥̏̓ä̷̻͈́̓͐̾̀ȉ̴̻̹̯͖͉͌͑ņ̷̛͚̱͇̥̃͑̕”

Grian chirps desperately, moving closer, urging for Scott to respond. Acho by his side immediately tenses, taking a step closer to Grian, ready to tug him away any second– not because he’s afraid Scott might do anything, no. He’s afraid that Grian will come on too strong and scare the poor guy even worse. 

“Grian..” Star whispers, placing a hand on the Sunbird’s shoulder, who immediately shakes it off.

“No! No, I– It was not a flaw!” Grian exclaims, his eyes filling with tears, his vision getting blurry. “Being yourself and trusting your instincts is not a flaw! I–” He chirps again, waiting. Begging.

Scott tenses further, mouth dropping open just a sliver, and a fraction of a trill escapes their throat. It’s very violently cut off by their teeth, biting down on their tongue with a choked-off noise of pain. They sit there for about two seconds, before their teeth relax again, and they spit a glob of blood onto the roof away from the other two. They say nothing. They just keep their head turned away, breath mildly shaky and ears fully pinned back.

“No! No, please– ” Grian sobs desperately, but before he can say anything, Acho grabs his hand, tugging him back. 

“Grian, enough,” they say firmly, shaking their head. “Not now. They’re not ready.”

“B-but–”

“Grian, ” they interrupt the Sunbird, their hand firm on his shoulder. “For them. Go .”

Grian sobs, staring back at the Fae with tears in his eyes, but doesn’t argue anymore. With a last glance toward Scott, he slowly stands up and turns away, coming down from the roof while Acho sighs heavily.

“It’s okay, Scott..” He whispers, turning back to them with a soft smile. “Just.. just take your time, okay?” He takes the blanket from atop the nearby mat, moving back to them. “May I?” He asks, showing the blanket to Scott, to make sure they are alright with him coming closer.

Scott glances at Acho, still appearing endlessly perplexed, and now a bit skittish. They look at the blanket, back up at Acho’s face, and finally– slow and cautious as always– nod.

He sighs, taking another step toward Scott and gently dropping the blanket over their shoulders, making sure to tie it in front so it doesn’t drop to the ground. “Don’t mind Grian, he’s always a little bit headstrong like that, and sometimes he doesn’t notice when to stop,” he explains with a soft smile, before he stands up and drags the mat closer to them. “As I said, just.. take your time. We need our time to get used to this, and so do you, but.. Even if it’s hard right now, I want you to remember Grian’s words. You are a person, no matter what they told you. You will always be one.” 

Scott’s eyes narrow a bit, and they once again turn away. There’s no response this time, but they do use their shoulders and teeth to get the blanket further onto them, accepting the soft peace offering. Then they settle into a somewhat comfortable seated position on the mat, seemingly content to sit there, restraints and all.

“Goodnight, Scott,” star mutters, as he turns away and leaves, jumping down from the roof next to the rock where Grian has found a place to sit and– as visible from the shaking shoulders and quiet sobs– cry to himself. “Hey,” star whispers softly, sitting down next to the Sunbird. “How are you feeling?”

“How am I supposed to feel, Acho?” He asks with a choked sob. “This– This is so unfair. They didn’t do shit to deserve this, eight? They lost their wings at eight? That’s– Gods, I can’t imagine the pain they went through at that age, losing wings is already traumatizing, but so young? ” He hides his face in his hands, voice coming out muffled. “They truly believe they’re not human anymore. Scott.. Having your humanity just erased like that..” He chokes, his head dropping down. “I know what it’s like, when others are trying to strip you away from everything that makes you you, They–” He cuts himself off, biting down on his tongue and immediately turning away. “Forget it.”

Acho hums, looking down at the ground in front of them. “I’m a Fae, right?” Star suddenly yet softly asks, not looking up from the dirt. “That’s what you see when you look at me?”

Grian sniffs, turning back to Acho. “Y-yeah?” He answers hesitantly. 

“What if I told you I was raised by humans?” Acho whispers. “What if I then told you that my first real.. Fae act was stealing someone’s last name and using it as my own? What if that was less than a year before the Maze Trials? Am I still a Fae?”

Grian’s eyes widen, as he immediately shakes it off, and nods firmly. “Yes. You– The humans that raised you should have held you close to your culture, or you shouldn’t have been with them in the first place.. If you were raised as a human out of touch with yourself, it was unfair to you, but it doesn’t change anything, doesn’t mean that you’re not a Fae. Did they.. never teach you that? Did they never allow you to get in touch with others?”

Acho hums again, leaning back and looking up at the sky. “My only inhuman features were my ears and my.. wings,” he murmurs. “Nobody kept what I was from me, but I wasn’t allowed to pursue my heritage. The people that raised me were kind, but they feared what I was.” He sighs, reaching back over his own shoulder and lifting the back of his sweater up, just a bit, enough for translucent wings made of thin white membrane to peek out. The fabric lifts a little further, revealing a large tear right through the middle of the left wing, rendering it limp and useless.

“This happened before the Maze,” the Fae whispers, staring ahead with a slight glaze to their eyes. “A raid of pillagers attacked my village. Very few survived, no one got out unscathed. It’s what pushed me to finally figure out what I am. Who I am.” Acho lets go of his sweater, allowing it to fall back down and tuck his wings back into hiding. “It took a very long time for me to consider myself a Fae. It didn’t feel.. fair. Calling myself something that I wasn’t attached to outside of some physical features, one of which had become damaged beyond repair.” They sigh again, finally looking at Grian. “It takes a lot of time to connect yourself to something you haven’t been connected to your whole life. It’s hard to.. comprehend that you could be anything other than what you’ve been made to be. They need time, Grian. Do you think you can give them that?”

Grian nods sadly, afraid to speak. He knows he has never seen Acho’s wings, but he never even considered.. “I’m sorry, Acho,” he whispers, looking down at the ground. “I know how much it hurts being stripped from everything, but not even being raised with your culture, your heritage.. reconnecting after all those years…” He sighs heavily, wiping away all the tears left on his face. “I can. I.. I will give them as much time as they need. Thank you.”

Acho just huffs, nudging the Sunbird with their elbow. “No need to thank me. If.. If you ever feel ready or want to talk about this.. They, let me know. I’ll gladly listen.”

“I–” Grian cringes slightly, huffing. “I don’t think I will be ready for that for a while, but.. I will keep that in mind,” he answers, turning back to Acho with a soft smile. 

Acho nods with an understanding smile of his own, gently taking Grian’s hand and standing to pull him to his feet. “C’mon. Let’s update the others and figure out a game plan for Scott, together, sound good?”

Grian hums and allows them to tug him up and back toward the hut. “Together… Yeah, we can do it together.”

Notes:

Jinx: Ann is such a silly goose
Jinx: sees opening scene
Jinx:
Jinx: Oh good lord
Ann: dances

Glitchy Text Translations:
"With what?"
"No... chain?"
"Not in the hut,"
"Here."
"Good memory,"
"Why wouldn't I?"
"Yes I am? I am not.. people. Dog, remember?"
"I haven't been an avian since I was eight. I am a dog now."
"That sound was a flaw,"
"It will not happen again."

Chapter 12: Red, red, red, red, red, red!

Notes:

Chapter CW/TW: Speciesism, Blood, Dissociation, Dehumanization, Kidnapping, Human trafficking, Child neglect

Chapter title is from "Red Red Red" by Tom Rosenthal

!!Hover mouse over glitchy text for a boxed translation! (Mobile/Tablet users should see End Notes)

“Oh I thought we were doing this!”

Mumbo can’t breathe. He feels like the ground under him is sinking, slowly taking him with it. He can’t move, he can’t speak, he can’t–

“Go on, Martyn! Air out your fucking grievances! Tell me AAALLLL the shit I’m doing wrong! Am I spending too much time with the big bad killer?! NEWS FLASH BUDDY! You were a fucking killer when I met you too! WE WERE ALL FUCKING KILLERS, MARTYN!”

Don’t say that. He doesn’t want to think about that. Mumbo isn’t a killer. Wasn’t a killer. He can’t be one.

How will he look his parents in the eyes if he is? How will he explain that he destroyed other people’s lives trying to get home, and because of him, there might be other families waiting for their spouses or children just like they were waiting for Mumbo for past years? 

He promised that he will never spill human blood. He promised that he will never be a Drenazhi, he will never hurt someone. 

If he didn’t keep that promise.. Who’s to say he can keep the other?

“We’ve all SLAUGHTERED our way through a shitty situation or two! Oh they broke a couple wings and ribs, scratched up a couple scales, are you forgetting when you literally ripped someone’s arm off back at STARR? When you gouged that man’s eyes out because he dared graze your tail a little wrong?! IT’S CALLED TRYING TO BLOODY SURVIVE, THAT’S WHAT THEY’RE DOING!”

That’s true.. He’s right, yes, he’s so right, but why can’t they talk about it instead? Why is the tension in the room growing with every word? Why is Grian looking so ready to explode? He has seen Grian angry before, but not toward one of his own, Mumbo doesn’t like how he’s looking at Martyn.

Martyn.

Their eyes move back to their boyfriend and he looks to be in so much distress, it makes their breath hitch even worse. They want to reach toward him and get him away from here. Grian is right but the way he acts, the way he talks.. Martyn can’t deal with stuff like that, not from his family, and Grian is Martyn’s family. He doesn’t deserve this, he doesn’t deserve to be yelled at just because he worries so much, because in this, he and Martyn are the same. Mumbo also worries. They worry so much sometimes people even in this group look at them so skeptical. 

Would have Grian yelled at him if he voiced his opinion like Martyn?

“What do you think will happen to them if they go back empty-handed?!”

They will be killed. Either with one quick blow or with painfully long torture to teach the other Dogs a lesson. Because that’s what happens with the Dogs. 

“We ALL know what STARR does to its people, we’ve all seen it! What do you think will happen to that man up there? THEY ALREADY TOOK HIS FUCKING WINGS!!”

Don’t– No. No, stop, don’t do this, don’t do this to Martyn, he doesn’t–

“So what now, Martyn? You gonna tell me what to do? Gonna tell me how upset it makes you, that I’m doing something to help someone in the same situation?”

We haven’t talked for almost a whole week. We miss you, we are upset.

“Gonna tell me how you feel neglected, fishy? HUH?!”

The world around him shakes, the cracks spreading on the walls and the windows shattering to the bits. In a second he’s reaching forward for Martyn’s hand. He needs to help. He needs to find balance. But Martyn flinches away and he’s crushed, and wheezing, he can’t feel his legs, he can’t stand up, he can’t–

“Screw you, Grian.”

No. No, don’t do this. Please, Grian, Martyn, you can fix this. We can fix this–

There are tears in the Siren’s eyes, the scales beneath him gleaming, and he doesn’t remember when the last time was that he’d seen Martyn cry. Actually cry. 

Their vision blurs and their surroundings shake even more, the house breaking to the bits and pieces, slowly floating up and surrounding them with the rubble. He can see the moment Martyn walks out of the broken door and everyone in the room fades, turning into dust. 

He can’t breathe– He can’t– Everything around him is floating, and yet his body feels so heavy, something crushing him to the ground. The roof falls apart, the pieces of it lifting up into the air, the red moonlight shining into the room, and just as he gasps, the red light swallowing the whole place, he feels something drop on his head. 

He’s dreaming.

That’s the immediate conclusion he comes to, as soon as he sees more droplets of red on the floor, the blood raining above his head, entering the room through the broken roof. 

Slowly, he looks up at the sky, not afraid of the blood in his eyes, as he watches the full blood moon slowly hiding behind the dark clouds, as it rains, rains, so much blood, so much rubble.  

He closes his eyes, feeling the droplets on his face, as he tries to relax under all the weight, giving in to the dream. It’s fine. It will rain a bit and when it stops, everything will go back to normal.

And so he waits.

The first thing that Mumbo recognizes upon waking up is that he’s not waking up . He finds himself already awake, staring up at the ceiling, while people’s conversations echo around the room with the early rising sun. He doesn’t know what time it is despite them having a clock on the wall, he just can’t find any strength to turn around and see, but he can hear the loud tick tock tick tock. It hasn’t been this loud before. 

He hears a low mumble by his side, followed by a wheeze, which makes Mumbo flinch. Right, Martyn. Despite the quick recovery, they found out really quickly that the wheezing problem hasn’t disappeared, as Martyn sometimes feels his lungs clench, holding all the air inside. Cordelia said that it’s mostly caused by sudden movement, a raised voice, or anxiety, and that it will probably fix itself in a few months, as Martyn adjusts to his new condition. 

This is painfully familiar.

He breathes in and out, and finds it surprising how easy it comes, despite the dream and the weird anxious pulse under his skin. His veins are so itchy.

“Mumbo?” Martyn’s voice reaches him, making him blink up at the Siren, finally turning his head to the side, despite the discomfort. The Siren smiles down at him softly, brushing the Vampire’s hair away from his forehead. “I saw you awake but you were pretty out of it for a second.. Are you alright?” 

Mumbo opens his mouth to reassure him that he’s alright. He can tell that he just had a dream and Martyn will understand, he knows that Mumbo either doesn’t see any, or sees the same thing every time. He will understand. 

But his mouth hangs open, and he feels his lungs just shutting down for a second, cutting off all his access to air. It doesn’t take much for it to come back, for him to breathe in like usual, but the moment catches him off guard and he just can’t.

They probably should stand up already and get ready for the busy day, but instead, Mumbo puts all his strength in turning around, as he lays on his side now closer to Martyn, and hugs his boyfriend’s knees, just breathing in and out. 

Just in and out.

Martyn hums, understanding immediately. Instead of asking for a nonverbal answer to his previous question, or coaxing Mumbo to coherency, he simply asks, “Do you wanna be held right now? A nod or a shake’s fine, love.”

His exhale comes out shakier than the previous, as he gives a little nod, holding onto Martyn’s knees gently, not having any more power for a strong grip. It’s not as heavy as he was in the dream, but as much as he wants to stand up, the gravity seems to be against it, just crushing him to the ground. He feels like he might just sink into the wood and disappear for the rest of his life. 

Martyn hums again, managing to hook his hands under the Vampire’s arms and hoist them up, holding them close to his chest and rubbing their back. The Siren’s tail drapes over his boyfriend, and he holds them close in comfortable silence, securing them in his arms while managing to refrain from putting real pressure on them. Secure, but not suffocated, not buried.  

Mumbo lets himself relax in his boyfriend's hold, closing his eyes. They haven’t been in this exact situation for a while now, but it still feels so familiar. He can’t remember when the dream came to him last time, but he doesn’t care about that, right now he wonders why the dream came back.  

Of course it was because of the fight between Grian and Martyn, but that was two days ago. He almost didn’t sleep at all the first night, yes, but he still did get an hour or two inbetween, and nothing. Those two made up yesterday, so he doesn’t understand why the panic still came back, why it triggered his dream. He.. didn’t like seeing that in his dream. Every time he mentioned that particular thought, Martyn snorted sadly at him with “No wonder why,” before trying to comfort him, but he still repeats that after every time it happens.  

Sometimes he’s just.. so tired of the blood, of the red. Which is kinda ironic, considering how he got a new red jacket just a month ago in another village. His mind works in weird ways. 

He.. he really should check up on Grian, and have an actual proper talk with Martyn. Right, maybe that’s the reason for his dream; despite them moving one from what happened, he still doesn't know what they think, still doesn’t know what they talked about, and this is his boyfriend and his platonic partner. Of course he’s anxious, of course he’s gonna get bad dreams again. 

And about Grian…

“Okay, so it’s the schedule, I will do most of it myself with a companion who will choose to follow me, but when I’m not here because of a job.. I really hope that someone who’s already back can pick it up instead of waiting for me. I– I don’t want to– to starve them or anything, so just.. Let’s make sure that we follow this schedule, okay?” The Sunbird asks, but this time around, his voice isn't commanding or rude, or as if they don’t have another choice, his voice sounds small and so so stressed.  

“That’s fine,” Owen assures with a small, hesitant smile. “Sh-should be, at least. Anybody have any objections?”

Martyn takes a deep breath, biting back the instinctive retort as he continues to hold Mumbo. No, no he does not have an objection, he needs to chill. It’s fine, this is reasonable, Grian’s trying.  

“..Alright then!” Owen chirps when no one speaks up, facing Grian again. “We’ll figure things out amongst ourselves if it comes to that, yeah?”

Grian sighs softly, nodding his head. “Yeah.. Yeah, that sounds good. Thank you guys, really.”

“Don’t worry, G, it’s fine,” Jimmy hums, packing up his own bag, ready to go to Cordelia’s for the day. “This will work out as long as we work together, right guys?” 

There are different agreements from the group, some more enthusiastic than the others, while Apo just sounds dead, not surprising considering she just woke up and still hasn’t even opened her eyes to the world yet. 

“Get up, lazy,” Acho hums, kicking Apo’s hand, the Demon almost biting down on stars leg as a defensive response. “HEY!”

“Jellie, get them!” Apo groans, lazily opening her eyes, while Jellie immediately hisses at Acho, forcing them to take a step back. 

“Scar, don’t let your child bite me, why is Apo commanding her around?!”

“Hey, that’s all Jellie!” Scar insists, not looking up from his own hands tightening his braces. “Nobody commands Jellie, I don’t choose who she likes! Get good man, I dunno!”

“Wooowwww,” the Fae drawls. “I see how it is, okay.”

“Hah. I’m the favorite,” Apo giggles, followed by a yawn as her tail flicks lazily. “Get on my level, Acho.”

“Sneezing be like,” Owen chimes in with a snort.

“OKAY SHEESH BULLY ACHO DAY TODAY I GUESS!”

“I mean, deserved,” Martyn huffs with a snort, before he turns back to Mumbo, gently brushing through their hair with his claws. For a second he wonders if they fell asleep again, but as if they sensed it, Mumbo immediately blinks their eyes open, slowly sitting up. Martyn moves his tail away, letting Mumbo straighten up, as the Vampire rubs his eyes, blinking repeatedly at the floor. 

“Hey..” The Siren hums softly, catching his boyfriend's attention, who turns back to him with a questioning look. He probably shouldn’t do this– He will totally fuck it up, no, no, he shouldn’t– despite all the sudden panic out of nowhere, he quickly moves his hands up and shakily signs, ‘YOU OKAY?’

Mumbo looks back at him blinking, before he slowly grins at the Siren and starts to chuckle, a hand over his mouth. “I– see you’ve been learning,” he says softly, his voice still quieter than he wanted, but feeling much better than before. 

“Ah– I-I’ve been picking up some things here or there,” Martyn sheepishly explains, trying and utterly failing to seem casual about it. “Y-y’know cause this happens sometimes, but also ‘cause I’m hard of hearing and it might be helpful so… I-I mean I.. wouldn’t mind if you could teach me properly like you did Grian… If you wanted, obviously…”

“Of course,” Mumbo answers softly. “More time with you will always be one of my desires,” he hums, his left hand down on the floor by Martyn’s side, as the other cups his face, bringing him closer for a kiss. All the tension and the pressure finally lifts, helping him relax and put his dream aside, back deep into his mind, as he enjoys the moment. Gods , he loves this man.

Martyn just smiles against their lips, giving them an indulgent little peck to the nose once they pull away before leaning back entirely. “You’re going back to the tavern for first shift, yeah? We’ll meet back here for lunch?”

“Yeah,” Mumbo sighs heavily. “And then back to the tavern for the second shift, honestly, maybe we should drag Joel back, I wouldn’t mind changing my jobs every day; one shift in one place is good, but two is just torture,” he says with a groan, rubbing his eyes. 

Martyn snorts, patting the Vampire’s knee. “Good luck getting Joel away from that bakery, I think he found his place here until we leave.”

“Wonder when that is gonna happen,” Mumbo hums, looking around the room, noticing that Jimmy is already gone, and both Owen and Grian. As if on cue, Joel also picks up his backpack and with a quick “I’ll see you at lunch!” leaves the room, leaving behind the two of them, Scar, Apo and Acho.

The others seem to be having fun, dragging poor Apo around and trying to wake her up. 

“Oh come on, let me braid one,” Scar whines, making circles around Apo, as Acho makes a little braid at her side. Every time Scar reaches to the other side, Acho immediately slaps his hand away, making the Vex whine even more, while half-awake Apo just giggles at the attention. 

“Mine,” Acho just states, continuing his work on the braid.

Mumbo notices that Acho is already in his working outfit ready to leave, and the only reason why he’s still there is Apo and probably Mumbo, since they work together. If he doesn’t dress now, they might be late for their shift.

“Gah,” the Vampire groans, reaching for his bag, while Martyn cackles behind his back, as he stands up slowly. 

“It’s gonna be okay, you can handle the work in the tavern, I believe in you,” he says, grinning, while also reaching for his change of clothes. “I’m pretty sure I will have it worse,” he adds with a snort.

Mumbo turns back to him confused, raising an eyebrow. “Isn’t like.. your whole job just moving water around?” he deadpans, making Martyn groan.

“Not anymore, apparently. Cordelia said that I’m good for work, so Mary asked if I can properly work on the farm you know, working with the crops, so I’m officially becoming a farmer!”

“Are you gonna wear the farmer overall? The straw hat?” Mumbo questions and in response gets a hit in the shoulder, as Martyn chuckles and drawls a “Shut uuuup.”

It doesn’t take too long to dress up, wash his face and clean his teeth over the little sink they have, with the others running behind his back and kicking each other, Scar almost choking on toothpaste once, making Apo explode in hysterical laughter. 

“‘S t’ early,” Mumbo whines, Acho giggling at the door.

“Should have been done with this before those two woke up,” star says, tilting their head toward the other two, who immediately look scandalized.

“We’re doin’ nothing! We aren’t a’ the s’nk!” Scar protests, toothbrush in his mouth, making Mumbo snort. 

Scar’s doesn’t seem to be true for a long, as Apo immediately hits her hip to Mumbo’s sending him stumbling to the side, before she washes out her brush, putting it back and, after taking some water in her mouth and swishing it around, spits it back out. “Aren’t you gonna be late?” She teases, filling her mouth with more water, while Mumbo stands with a deadpan in there with a brush still in his own, Scar and Acho giggling.

“Stop bullying my boyfriend!” Martyn calls out inside of the room, throwing his bag over his shoulder. 

“Ya think this is bullying?” Apo responds, running the towel down her face before putting it down. “Wait for rocks tossed straight at your head!”

“Is that a threat, Kuna?!”

“Maybe?! Have a problem, Woods?”

Mumbo groans, moving back toward the sink as Apo runs out of the bathroom, her and Martyn’s voices booming outside with playful threats and screaming. 

“They are in a very good mood today,” Acho points out from stars place in the doorway.

While Mumbo hums, finally done with his teeth. “We were very stressed yesterday, I guess.. Nice to be back to laughter,” he answers truthfully, Scar scowling sadly by his side, but not saying anything. 

“I love the kitty paws on the shirt you got her,” Acho suddenly says, making Scar light up. 

As he turns on the water, cleaning up the sink, he nods enthusiastically. “I was searching for something that would suit her and something to, I don’t know, remind her that she has.. a place with us, you know,” Scar mumbles, sending a sheepish glance back to Acho. “Sorry.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Acho says, shaking stars head, before stars eyes go back to Martyn and Apo chatting about something right in front of the exit door, Martyn ready to leave. “It’s.. nice. I have high hopes for this. Whatever this is.”

“Yeah, but.. It shouldn’t have taken us a whole year to do this,” Scar says softly, turning off the water. “I wish we were better than that, but.. I guess we can fix this now. I’m– I’m actually very happy to have you three with us,” Scar says with  a gentle smile back to Acho. “I know we haven't gotten really close yet, but after a whole year, I can’t imagine this run without you.”

“Heh..” Acho huffs softly, clenching the bag in their hand. “Thanks Scar. It means a lot to us,” they say, trying to match the same smile as the Vex, before they turn around, walking toward the door. “Now come on, Mumbo, we are gonna be late because of you!” They call back with a playful tut tut tut, shaking their head. 

Mumbo snorts, leaving the bathroom and taking the bag behind his back, his belt with its several pouches secure around his waist, as he drags himself outside the house, Martyn immediately by his side. They wave to Scar and Apo, who immediately venture back to the commission board, still not having found a place to settle for a time being, just like Grian and Owen, who just bounced between quests every day or two. 

“Good luck on the farm!” Acho calls out as soon as they get close to the tavern, waving Martyn off and entering the building, leaving the lovebirds behind. 

“Try not to destroy any more crops,” Mumbo teases, planting a kiss on the Siren’s lips, who chuckles in response.

“No promises,” he says, before turning around and continuing his path toward the farm, while Mumbo follows Acho inside the building with a sigh. 

The cozy building’s atmosphere has quickly become familiar over the past few days– neatly laid stone brick walls, an open floor with spruce pillar supports and a staircase tucked in the corner, leading to the fenced-off second floor. There are plenty of tables scattered around– though the tables are really just large barrels, but it somehow adds to the vibe, so who is Mumbo to comment– sturdy arches with lanterns hanging from short chains, and plenty of plant life taking up other corners in large pots or planted in much smaller flower pots as table decorations. The kitchen is separated by a half-wall of crafting benches and slightly smaller barrels, the space complete with several sinks, cabinets, smokers, furnaces, stoves, and more. All a kitchen needs, really.

“Look who finally showed up,” Tekla called out, a tray in one hand, as she swiftly moved between the tables. “Get your ass in here, we have a rush,” she smirks, hitting Mumbo with a towel with a free hand, the people around chuckling at the familiar attitude from the woman. 

Mumbo gasps dramatically, covering his back with his hands. “That is harassment, Lady!” He huffs, getting a laugh in response, as he turns back to the kitchen and circles the barrels, getting inside. 

“This is a lot of people for the start of the day, isn’t it?” Acho hums, a red apron secured around his waist, as he slowly puts plates down on a tray. “I mean, it usually starts getting worse in an hour or more, I don’t think I've seen so many people here yet.”

“It’s Red Friday,” Abigail jumps into the conversation from her place in the kitchen, as she walks in front of the stove, making sure the food is doing good. “People tend to get together on celebrations, no?” She hums, turning back to them with one of her famous ear to ear smiles. Her blonde hair is in a bun under the net, kitchen gloves on both of her hands, as she slowly takes the pot off the stove, turning around the lying it down on the main kitchen area as Wyatt comes back from the hall, immediately darting toward the plates to put them in front of Abi.

“Gooood morning~!” He sings, looking back at Acho and Mumbo with a strange sparkle in his eyes. “I see you two are feeling better today!”

“Wyatt!” Abigail hisses from the other side of the table, pointing a ladle toward his face. “Read the room!”

Acho snorts, ignoring the little conversation behind their back, as they take the tray and circle around Mumbo, going back into the main hall. 

“Yeah, it’s fine now,” Mumbo answers awkwardly, opening a little cabinet at the end of the kitchen and putting his backpack in there, while grabbing the familiar red apron for himself. “Red Friday, I hear?” He questions hesitantly, tying the apron around his waist, while Abi looks back at him with eyebrows raised. 

“Yeah, aren’t you like.. a Vampire? Shouldn’t you know?” She asks, tilting his head, while Wyatt snorts, walking around the table and hitting her with a towel.

“Read the room, Abi.”

“Hey!” The girl scowls, sending a glare to her older brother. “You are such a hypocrite!!”

Wyatt just raises an eyebrow at that, turning back to Mumbo with a “Can you believe her?” look in his eyes, making the Vampire chuckle. 

“I mean– I know what it is,” Mumbo explains awkwardly, turning toward the string in front of the kitchen, with all the orders hung on it. “I just forgot when it was exactly..” He says, biting down on his lip. In actuality, he learned about all the celebrations when he was just a kid, and never actually celebrated it. 

The fact that he can tolerate and embrace the color red as his, doesn’t mean that he has good memories associated with it, or that he always loved it. Can’t exactly celebrate when it’s connected to something that triggers you at every step, now can you? 

“Well, you’re here at just the right time, I guess,” Abi says with a shrug, bringing back her smile. “The Red Week is on our doorsteps, so enjoy it with the others, well– at least for a few minutes. We are gonna be crowded on Sunday, Tek said she’s expecting everyone here, so the other shifts are also gonna join us. Gonna be a busy day, at least we have a day off tomorrow, it’s considered a–”

“A family day, yeah,” Mumbo hums softly, nodding his head. He has been here so long, and yet everytime Abi calls Tekla Tek, it makes his guts twist. And now a family celebration? Not just that, but a celebration dedicated to rebirth and new starts? Just his luck. 

“She also asked if uh– your friend would mind coming back for a day? On Sunday? What was his name.. Jeremy?” Abi tilts her head deep in thought. 

“Joel,” Mumbo corrects her, taking an order from the string and going through it, putting out all the needed plates. “I don’t know if he’ll do the whole day, maybe half.. It depends on if the bakery he works in is open that day.. Almost everything is closed on Red Week, but food markets and taverns..”

“He’s with Lika, right?” Abigail asks, as Acho finally returns to the kitchen, grabbing a note from the string after adding two new ones.

“Joel?” Star asks, looking between the two. “Yeah, he managed to get a job with her.”

“Good then,” she says, nodding her head. “Lika’s bakery is usually open for.. two hours in the morning just so everyone can grab new bread for the day, and after that she usually joins the celebration at the town hall, or at the previous tavern that was closed. He will probably be off work then.”

“Oh, are we dragging him back here? I can also ask Apo, if we need that?” Acho asks, laying down his empty tray by Mumbo’s side. “Scar might also join, these two haven’t found a full-time gig, just one day commissions, so I think they will be free to help out here. Is this for your Red Friday?”

“Week , Red Friday is today, it lasts four days, from today to Monday,” Mumbo clarifies, putting a final plate down with his eyes focused on the food in front of him, as he feels his chest getting slightly heavier. He looks down at the order number again, making sure of whose order it was, before he takes a tray and turns his back to the others, walking out of the kitchen with a quick “Be right back.”

He walks back into the main hall, all the laughter of the people around hitting him in a wave, and only now he notices more . The red decorations on the walls that weren’t here yesterday, the plates with home-grown grass with the red eggs in it, and people in mostly red clothes, his senses overwhelmed by red, red, red, red–

Maybe.. He should have just stayed back in the hut.

---

As midday approaches, most of the scattered Outsiders are dismissed for lunch and make their way to their hut. In different but close timeframes, the group makes their way inside and gets together to eat– except for Grian and Owen, who Joel informs them have gone out to hunt.

“Some farmers on that side of town apparently saw some wild animal or something trampling crops,” the Red Panda explains. 

“So they sent the two avians with broken wings to investigate?!” Jimmy loudly questions, wings fluffed in what’s clearly a mix of worry and irritation. “..Don’t tell me they–”

“They insisted, yep,” Joel snorts. “Wanted to be useful after layin’ about for over a week.”

“For healing wings!” The Canary screeches. “Oohhh those idiots–”

“And Owen gets onto me for straining my back,” Apo grumbles, tearing a bite off of her jerky.

“I’m punting him when he gets back,” Acho decides, perfectly deadpanned.

“I’ll be punting Grian, yep,” Scar nods, scratching Jellie behind the ears almost solemnly. 

“I’ll just tell on them to Cordelia,” Jimmy grunts, foot tapping on the floor. 

“Oh boy,” Martyn says with a shudder. “That woman is scary, mate.”

“I know!” Jimmy chirps. “That’s why she’s an effective threat!”

“Cordelia herself is a threat, how lovely,” Joel snickers.

“Okay, so what do we do then?” Martyn asks, annoyed, sitting down on the bed. 

“Well..” Scar starts with a slight grimace. “We did agree to take over the schedule if Grian wasn’t here…”

“Funny how that happened the first day, like he couldn’t even keep to the schedule one day,” Apo says with a snort, before she looks up to the others with a nervous smile. “I mean– I’m not saying it’s his fault or anything, I just think it’s ironic– yep!”

“Calm down, Apo, I think all of us understood that,” Joel says, biting down on his own food. “It is kinda ironic. He gave food to Exor this morning, but now I guess it’s our responsibility until they are back. He said he doesn’t want Exor to miss out on food because of him being late.”

“Their name’s Scott,” Jimmy mutters, immediately flicking up one of his ear wings to hide his face at the responding look from his brother-in-law. “J-just. Just saying. They’ve got a name and it.. might be nice to use it, Joel. That’s all.”

Most of the others look vaguely uncomfortable, shifting and looking down at the floor or their food, taking bites almost in sync as if to avoid putting in their two cents.

Joel sighs heavily, his tail twitching behind him anxiously. “Right.. Sorry, we need to give Scott food, I don’t think it would be a good idea to leave them without it. Grian or Owen definitely won’t be happy if we do that.”

“How do we decide who goes up there?” Apo quietly asks, her own tail flicking nervously behind her. “It’s, uh.. One of us can feed them and another just.. watches, right? D-do we volunteer or..?”

“I doubt any of us are gonna volunteer to feed it,” Martyn snorts, slightly cringing at the glare Jimmy sends him. “Them. Feed them, jeez.” 

“Rock paper scissors?” Scar asks, immediately laying down on his stomach and holding his hand out, waiting for the others to do the same. “Come on! Everyone in the circle!”

Apo giggles nervously, also laying down on her stomach by Scar’s side and holding out her hand, while the others look around at each other.

“We are not playing rock paper scissors to see who feeds Scott,” Jimmy grumbles, looking down at them with a  disapproving glare, but the others snicker, and a second later, Joel lays down on the floor. “Seriously?!”

“I guess we are doing this then,” Acho hums, following the others to the ground. 

“This is so dumb.. Oh my gods, this is so dumb,” Martyn groans, rubbing his eyes. “I can’t believe we are actually doing this.”

“Oh come on, Martyn!” Apo exclaims from the floor, impatiently knocking a fist down on the floor. “Nobody is asking you to feed them off your hand, you just untie them, wait for them to eat, and tie them up again, don’t be a wuss!”

The Siren’s eyebrow twitches, as he stands up from the bed and moves to the group, laying down by their side. “I hate all of you, I really do,” he declares in a mumble under his breath. “Mumbo, you coming?” He asks, turning back to the Vampire.

He turns just in time to see Mumbo shaking himself out of his thoughts, as he blinks down at them confused. “What? What’s going on?”

Martyn tenses, suddenly getting worried again. He thought they got better that morning, they clearly went to their work in a good mood, but this look, those eyes spoke trouble. Now that he thinks about it.. Mumbo didn’t speak this whole conversation since they came back. Did they even touch their food?

“We are deciding who goes up to Scott for food by playing rock paper scissors!” Scar jumps in, noticing Martyn’s worry. “We uh– Yes! We're gonna change the rules! We play and count who chose what, and the item that has less hands plays again until we have one against one, and they can play by normal rules, so we can have a loser! The loser can choose who will watch over them, and those two will go up to Scott!” He explains, lifting his upper body slightly on his elbow. 

“Sounds like a plan!” Apo chirps, tail swaying happily.

“This seems very convoluted for something so simple but I’m down,” Acho admits with a small shrug.

“Eh, I guess it’s effective. Gets the job done,” Joel agrees with a dramatic sigh.

“This is so dumb,” Martyn whispers to himself, sending another glance to Mumbo. Leaning over, he mutters, “You okay?”

“Yeah.. yeah, sorry,” Mumbo hums, slowly crawling to the group and laying down, closing the circle. “This is so stupid,” he mutters from the ground, being the only one who lays his chin on the ground, putting his hand upfront with the others. 

“Exactly!” Martyn exclaims, but otherwise doesn’t move or tries to argue against this anymore. He doesn’t care about the stupid game, Mumbo makes him worried. 

What follows can only be described as pure chaos. There’s a lot more yelling than there probably should be, Joel gets tackled at some point, and it takes almost half an hour to actually reach a conclusion– by the end of it, there is no neat circle of Outsiders in sight. Instead, there’s a very disgruntled Siren gathering a small bag of food, and a grumbling Fae waiting by the door.

“I still think Joel cheated,” Acho mutters, nose scrunched in annoyance.

“How would I even cheat in rock paper scissors??!” Joel demands, fur puffed incredulously.

“You tell me, cheater!”

“Oookay, let’s not get into this again,” Scar soothes with a wary chuckle. 

“Wish us luck, I guess,” Martyn sighs, tying off the bag and finally standing to join Acho. “Up we go, after you.”

“You get to explain all this to them,” the Fae decides immediately, taking the lead outside and up the rocks to the roof. Scott is still sitting on the mat with the blanket tied around their shoulders, perfectly calm and completely at ease in their restraints. Their ear flicks at the sound of the duo’s approach, glancing over and watching them with that icy, critical eye.

“Hi..” Martyn grumbles, looking down at Scott with the most annoyed expression in the universe, as Acho scowls at him, hitting his shoulder.

“Dude!”

“What?!” The Siren exclaims, looking back at him. “I didn’t even do anything! Good lord!” He huffs, turning back to Scott, his eye twitching. “Grian is busy hunting right now. He asked us this morning to feed you if he’s not around, so here we are,” he says, holding the bag of food higher. “Acho is gonna untie you and you’re gonna eat like a good boy, ay?” 

Acho groans by his side, rubbing his temples. “You– Oh my Gods.”

Scott’s eye narrows just slightly, their head tilting as their one-eyed gaze remains glued to the Siren. Even as Acho finally moves to untie them, they watch Martyn. When the ropes fall away, they watch Martyn. When Acho shuffles back a bit, they watch Martyn. Finally, they slowly reach for the bag in his hand, claws grazing the tied-off plastic.

Then their hand shoots a bit further than it should. They grab Martyn’s wrist, claws digging into his skin, and before either Outsider can react, they’ve yanked him forward and clamped their teeth down hard on his hand, eye sharpened into the fiercest glare either of them have ever seen. Turns out? All of their teeth are sharpened like canines.  

“FUCK!” Martyn screams, the bag of food dropping on the roof and his face turning red out of anger, as blood drips down his hand. Before Acho can jump in and help, Martyn pushes his free hand against Scott’s forehead, and with all his strength, slams his foot against its stomach to force it to let him go.

“What the hell?!” Acho behind him rushes forward, circling the duo and, with grip on Scott’s shoulders, yanks them back to separate the two. 

Scott goes without a fuss, spitting blood sideways onto the roof and scooting themself backward. Acho would almost dare to call the speed in which they do so frantic. Their eye stays on Martyn, now more wary than anything, though still holding what is definitely a bit of anger. Was it the good boy comment? Must’ve been, right? Fuck… 

“Go inside, Martyn,” the Fae mutters, wincing at the sluggishly bleeding wound on the Siren’s hand. “Get that checked out, I’ll take care of this.”

“NO! Are you–” Martyn sputters, one hand holding onto the other, keeping it held up while the blood drips down his palm to the roof, staining the surrounding shingles in red. “It just bit me!” He exclaims like it wasn’t obvious already. Just on cue, there is shuffling from down below, and someone opens the door while yelling. It’s not a surprise that the first voice he recognizes is Mumbo’s, asking if everything is alright with his usual super panicked high pitched voice. 

The Siren’s eyes dart down toward the bag, as he growls, looking back at Scott. “You know what? Fuck you,” he grumbles, quickly reaching for the bag, and before Acho does or says anything, turns it upside down, dumping everything down toward the ground. A quick “What the hell?!” follows from below, as people move away, avoiding the raining food.

“Good fucking lunch, Dog,” he says, turning around and jumping down the roof to the rock, his hand pulsing with pain pain pain–

Acho takes a shuddering breath, glancing back down at Scott. They somehow manage to look unimpressed, staring at some of the spilled food with what Acho could swear is a slightly raised eyebrow.

“..That wasn’t nice of either of you,” the Fae murmurs. Scott just looks up at star, blinks owlishly, and shrugs. “D-do you want me to get you more food-?”

“D̷̟͛ó̴͚͈̓n̵̬̯͋'̵̫̙̳̘̝̈̿ť̶͉͝ ̷̨͕͖̮̿͆̒͋͘b̷͚̭̫͈̯̗͑̀̒͝ơ̷̡͙̝͐̈ṯ̸͔͎̟͌̄͗ḧ̴̙̎̐̕e̵͔̤̯̝̪͋ŕ̶̥͉͛̌͆̄͘.” Scott whispers. “Y̴̦̠͙͉̳͗̽̀͜o̷̞̖͎͓̥͇͗͊̍̕ȕ̵̘͆ ̷̙̘̼͎̿̈̔c̷̬̗̗̦̓̒a̴͇͙͚͚̘̯͋̑͊͂̚͝n̶̖̽͌ ̵̧̬͍̗̯̯͗ț̴̢̗͛̒͒̍i̸͙̍̆͘ȇ̴̱͗͐ ̵͙͚̰̐̈́m̴͙̙̪̐̕͝e̷̮̬̼̘̫̓̌̔ ̸̢̒́b̷̦̞͉̱͇̔͊͠ȃ̶̢͓̳̺͗̿͋̀c̸̯͙͚̘̏͗k̵̫̮͍̺͌̚̕ ̵̪͓͗ư̷̬̺̩̈́͌̾p̶̰͑ ̶̢̱̊̎ñ̴̨͉̱̠̆ȯ̵̬̭̒̏̓̈ẁ̸̟͇̟̰̓̌ͅ.̶̫̯̫̳̺̥͑̃̀̈́”

“...O-okay,” Acho reluctantly agrees, gathering the rope back up with a sigh, before getting to work on restraining Scott again.

Down on the ground, Martyn hisses as he walks by the others, looking back at him confused, and each one of them letting out a gasp, seeing the red liquid. 

“Holy shit, did they attack you?!” Apo asks, following Martyn back into the hut alongside everyone else.

Only Mumbo stays outside for a second, looking at the droplets of blood on the grass, before slowly entering into the hut. It’s so red, red, red, red–

“Did Jimmy already leave?!” Scar’s panicked voice echoes through Mumbo’s mind, as he looks up from the blood to Martyn sitting on the bed, the others surrounding him. As Scar said, Jimmy is nowhere to be seen, just like Joel. Probably left for their jobs already.

“Yeah, right after Martyn and Acho went to Scott,” Apo confirms, looking down at Martyn’s wound with a shudder. “Oh, this looks– woah.”

Mumbo can’t see the wound from here, but from all the blood on the floor, and the reactions from the others, he can tell it looks bad. It’s probably not as bad as broken ribs or wings, but seeing so much blood from Martyn.

He can smell it. At this point, the whole hut is drenched in this smell, and he can feel his head slightly spinning. “Can someone get the first aid kit,” he says, blinking the daze away, as he slowly moves toward Martyn and sits down on the bed. Apo and Scar look at each other, before Apo darts for the kit, and Scar moves a bit away, giving them space.

“What– What happened?” Mumbo questions softly, taking Martyn’s wounded hand in his own, looking over the marks. This looks so so familiar, this is so familiar, gods he’s gonna throw up. The hand is fully covered in red, because of which he can’t see the damage fully, but what he can see is already triggering enough. 

“It fucking bit me!” Martyn exclaims, hissing and looking down at his hand, his face scrunched in pain. “I didn’t even touch it, I was just giving it food and it yanked my hand and bit me!”

“You made another dog comment,” Acho recalls from the door, letting it shut behind them. “‘You’re gonna eat like a good boy?’ Really, Martyn? You have no idea why they might’ve gotten pissed at you?”

“This might be news to you Acho, but I don’t fucking care,” Martyn growls, looking back at the Fae, while Mumbo lets out a shaky sigh. “I told Grian, I’m gonna tell you too, until it starts acting like a human, I’m not changing shit. It was pissed? Good for it, I have more reasons to be pissed than it does! You all want me to treat it like a friend, when all it does is look at us like we are nothing! I’m not Grian, it hurt me and I’m pissed and I will be pissed until it fucking apologizes and starts at least acting like a person, until then, I can make as many dog comments as I want!”

Acho watches him rant with an unreadable expression– not quite angry, not quite upset, but something more than just neutral– just sighing when he’s done and wordlessly moving to grab stars bag. “I’ll see you at the tavern later, Mumbo,” star says, simply leaving the hut again without another word.

Apo awkwardly shuffles to the duo and extends the first aid kit to Mumbo, tail curled around her leg as she avoids eye contact. “H-here. Found it..”

“Thanks,” Mumbo whispers, taking the kit and putting it down on the bed by their side, before unclipping its clasp and flipping it open. They wordlessly work to clean and disinfect the nasty bite, keeping a firm grip on Martyn’s wrist to keep him from squirming away from the sharp sting. Even in their daze, they manage to efficiently clean his hand and dress the bite, wrapping and taping gauze around his hand. “..That should be good to go. Feel okay, other than the throbbing?”

In response, Martyn just whispers a quiet “Fuck,” as he holds his other hand against his eyes, taking sharp breaths. “I– I’m not a villain in this, okay?”

“I know, Martyn,” Mumbo whispers, touching Martyn’s fingers with his own, as Martyn moves his other hand higher to hold their hands together, Mumbo’s leather gloves harsh against Martyn’s bandages.

“I’m not..” Martyn repeats again, his shoulders shuddering. “I’m trying. I promise.. I– I am.”

Mumbo’s eyes fall on the sheets of the bed, that now have been stained red, before he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. 

Red, red, red, red–

“Yeah. I know,” Mumbo says again, tugging the Siren closer, and planting a kiss on his forehead. “And it’s gonna get better, you need time, it’s okay.” He hums, letting Martyn lean on him, as the Vampire wraps his hands around him. “I love you.” And like always he means it. He loves Martyn with his whole heart no matter what, but.. For the first time those words sound tired, as he keeps his gaze on the wall behind his lover, trying to push all these feelings, all this smell away. It’s okay. Everything is gonna be okay.

“I love you too,” Martyn whispers, burying his face in the crook of the Vampire’s neck. At least.. Even if everyone else ends up going against him, at least he’ll always have Mumbo.

---

Maybe Mumbo should have checked up on Scott with Apo and Scar before he left, but the two promised to visit them and make sure everything is fine before their quest, so hesitantly, he left the hut, and with his backpack firm on his stomach instead of his back, walked toward the tavern dazed.

He doesn’t remember most of the way there, he was just leaving the hut, and suddenly he is once again surrounded by the familiar chaos of people yelling and laughing, the others on shift running around taking or delivering orders. Abigail and Wyatt are nowhere to be seen, working only one shift a day. Not everyone is in desperate need of money like them, taking insane twelve hour shifts every day. 

With the perfect timing, like she always has, Elene walks right by him with a tray on her hands, talking with every single person she sees. “Heeello, Mum,” she says to Mumbo, immediately circling around him, making the Vampire snort.

“Stop calling me that!” He calls out, but doesn’t wait for an answer, walking to the kitchen. He said that hundreds of times, but she was set on his accent and decided that the shortened version of his name was too ironic not to use. Acho laughed at him the first time star heard that, but promised to keep that nickname a secret from the others.  

On the topic of Acho…

The Fae is moving around in a clear daze, almost robotic. They move in and out of the kitchen, plating orders and delivering them with the best customer service smile they can seem to muster. Their eyes seem glazed, empty, and whenever they’re addressed they either simply nod or reply in the most tired voice Mumbo’s ever heard from them. Their movements are stiff, as if they’re moving by muscle memory alone, back and forth and back and forth, kitchen to tavern to kitchen to tavern. The other employees keep sending them concerned glances, and even some tavern-goers seem to catch onto their.. state, but Acho gives an empty smile to each person and simply moves on.

Mumbo just sighs heavily, entering the kitchen. Of course out of everyone in their little group, they had to be so out of it today, now that they had the busiest day ever. Joel is mostly chill with his work in the bakery, just working in the kitchen and having a fun chat with the other bakers, not even working at the desk. Apo and Scar do whatever Apo and Scar are doing every single day since they settled down in this village. Owen and Grian literally just got out of the house, finally moving around, and their first job is hunting? Honestly, so far probably they, Martyn and Jimmy have it the worst. 

Jimmy always comes back half-dead after his whole day long shifts in the infirmary, because it’s not just work– it’s also learning, so his brain is mostly so overloaded after hours of non-stop information, by the night the poor guy just drops and sleeps on the floor in front of the entrance. And Martyn.. He was having chill time too, mostly, but he was supposed to start real work today. Mumbo hopes that he will explain the situation to Mary and Harley, they might take it easy on him, now that his hand is so messed up. 

“Is Acho okay?” Maia asks, standing near their little stuff cabinet, pulling her long black hair back in a bun. “They look.. you know. Ele was here with Abi before Abi’s shift ended, and she said that you two were finally back in the game, so I wasn’t expecting.. this.”

Mumbo sighs heavily, putting his backpack in the cabinet. “It’s.. okay, just some disagreements within the group, you know how it happens,” he answers with a shrug, securing an apron around his waist. 

The Elf snorts, moving to the list of the orders, her hair finally safe under the net. “Yeah, I would know that. But still, you know you two can take a break if it’s too bad, right? I mean.. It’s probably not a good reputation to take a break after a week of work, but Tekla will understand I think.”

“Considering how she announced all hands on deck for this Sunday, I would say it will be even worse taking a break now,” Mumbo says bitterly. “It’s okay. We can deal with this, we have dealt with much worse.”

Maia sends back a curious look, her eyebrow raised. “Ah yes, you two and your group filled with mysteries. I would love to hear what 'worse' you’re talking about, someday,” she states, before slowly walking out of the kitchen. “I see some hands in the air, I’m gonna go take more orders,” she says, taking a little notebook at the counter. “If you don’t feel like going out yet, there’s dirty dishes in there, you can clean them and work around the kitchen for now, you up for cooking?”

Mumbo looks around the place, before his eyes dart back to the tavern that is once again filled with people, and grumbles. “Yeah, I think I will stay here for a bit..”

Maia just hums, leaving him behind, just as Acho moves back into the kitchen with a tray of empty dirty dishes. The Vampire’s eyes dart back to the sink that is almost completely full. Yeah, he should.. probably do that now.

“Maia was asking if you’re okay,” he says, addressing the Fae, as he moves toward the sink.

Acho hums, sliding the tray onto the counter and beginning to stack the dishes off of it. Star gives a smile, weak and unconvincing, and answers in an almost painfully small voice. “I’m alright. How’s Martyn’s hand? Got patched up okay?”

Mumbo closes his eyes, leaning against the sink, the sound from the tavern filling his ears with a buzz. “Yeah.. it was deep, but he’s gonna be okay. Scar promised to go to Cordelia’s first to tell Jimmy what happened, so he can get a potion or two.”

“That’s good,” Acho mutters with a small nod. “Wouldn’t be good for it to get infected. Bites through skin can be deadly if left unchecked.”

The Vampire snorts, opening their eyes. “Yeah, I would know. Do you.. want to talk about what happened?” He asks hesitantly, turning the water on. 

There’s no response for a bit, the Fae silently transferring plates from the tray to the sink. Then, in an even smaller voice than before, “I’m not mad at him. Martyn, I mean.”

Mumbo nods, feeling some sort of relief. Martyn is right, he’s not a villain and they don’t want him to be perceived like one. They don’t want the others to be mad at the Siren, because while his actions aren’t pretty, he has reasons. Good reasons. “But there is something else that made you–” he doesn’t finish the sentence, knowing that Acho understands what he’s talking about. 

“..The it,” Acho no more than whispers. “Calling Scott an it. That.. it doesn’t make me angry, but it… It hits close to home, okay?” Star swallows, one of stars hands gripping the counter. Gods, I already vented far too much to Grian, am I seriously about to trauma dump on Mumbo too??

Mumbo’s breath shudders, looking down at all the dirty dishes, trying to shake off all his thoughts. “I.. I get it,” he hums, slowly taking off his leather gloves and putting them aside. The scars of years-old bite marks on his right hand itch, but he tries not to give them any attention. It’s always a bad idea. So he quickly reaches for the kitchen rubber gloves, putting them on. “I guess, I was.. luckier in my childhood to escape that degradation before I was taken by STARR. But the labs.. or some places in the Overworld aren’t good places for people like us.” 

He wasn’t lucky in his childhood. But, considering how he was never on the receiving end of being dehumanized, he takes it as some sort of good point. People around him focused all their hate on one specific group, which is ironic, considering how years later, he is one of them.

“No. No, they’re not,” Acho agrees with a sigh. He hesitates again, the hand not clinging to the counter moving up to rub at the side of his neck, just under the collar of his undershirt. Void, guess he’s doing this. Trauma bonding, always a joy. “...I wasn’t actually taken in by the humans that ended up mostly raising me,” he says, voice almost monotone, almost casual. “I was sold to them.”

Like an animal. Like an It.

Mumbo’s frown deepens, as he continues staring down in the sink, but the dishes are by now fully forgotten. “I– I’m sorry. Can’t imagine how hard it probably was. How..” His voice cracks for a second. “How.. old were you?” 

“Fourteen,” the Fae hums with a shrug, as if it doesn’t bother them at all. “My earliest.. real memory is that auction, actually. Everything before that is fuzzy, except a few.. highlights.” Then they huff, mouth twitching in a mockery of a smile, and as casual as can be, they say, “I was a bit of a trophy for them, honestly. ‘Look at how selfless we are! We’re such great people for taking in a teenaged Fae!’ Hah. Didn’t stop them from treating me as an object in private, but oh well.” Then they blink, glancing back up the Vampire. “...Sorry. That was a bit too apathetic on my part,” they murmur.

“Oh no, don’t worry about that,” Mumbo snorts, shaking his head. “I was doing that my whole childhood, just telling people how my dad didn’t care and sometimes would starve me for days, so yeah, I understand what it's like to be just.. there, just an object to your family. Most of it is so far now, or even back then, just deep in your mind, so you’re just numb to it..”

Acho blinks, looking back up at Mumbo in clear confusion. “..This might sound really shitty but I have– click-whistle!– literally never heard you talk even a little negatively about your dad, he did what-?”

That makes Mumbo flinch a little, his eyes going wide. His dad? Did he just– “Ah, no, sorry, I– I don’t know why I called him my dad, he’s.. He was my dad, I guess, my biological one, but I don’t consider him my dad, haven’t called him that for years, I don’t know why I suddenly.. No, Xisuma.. The.. the dad and papa I usually talk about, Xisuma and Keralis, I was adopted by them. I guess I was.. a bit luckier than you adoption wise. Ah– sorry, wait,” he cringes, shrinking into himself. “Sorry–”

Acho snorts, the last of that glaze in stars eyes finally slipping away as star breaks into breathless, body-trembling giggles. “Oh Gods, no, you’re so right you so did, wow–” Then Acho is fully just laughing, hugging stars stomach with the hand that was previously at stars own neck. “Sorry, sorry, that just caught me so off guard oh my goodness–”

“I mean, I wasn’t that lucky either,” he says with a nervous chuckle, his shoulders trembling. “I mean, my first emotionally adopted family died because of my bio dad, does that count as lucky or unlucky?”

Acho wheezes, nearly collapsing against the counter with laughter. “Oh jeez oh Gods I am so sorry I shouldn’t be laughing that’s not funny what the– wheeze– what the fuuuuuck is wrong with meeeee–”

Mumbo can feel the slight bubbling in his chest, as the pressure drops, making him laugh at the Fae’s reaction. “No, it’s not funny, but let us laugh this one time, I’m giving you permission! Our trauma to joke about, you know!” 

Acho just breaks into more hysterical giggles, barely supporting himself on the counter as he trembles and laughs. “Y’know I– hah– one time my human ‘brother’ literally called me a trophy once? Dude was the only one that actually acknowledged it?? It was funny as shit somehow???”

“Oh, how I love when family members acknowledge all the wrong-doings toward you but in a good light, as if they are good for doing so!” Mumbo snorts, rolling his eyes. “I remember being kidnapped and instead of doing what was asked of him, that old man just stormed the place and I almost died. Honestly, try to at least pretend in front of the others that you care about your only child!? How hard can it be?!”

“Oohhh pretending is simply beneath them, y’see,” Acho says, nodding sagely despite still giggling. “Can’t be bothered, their brains can’t comprehend it. A tragedy, truly.”

“Sometimes I wonder what he’s doing right now,” Mumbo thinks aloud, reaching for the dirty plates and finally starting cleaning them. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t miss him, and I surely don’t think about him a lot, but.. Back then he didn’t care, now he would hate me, probably wouldn’t even recognize me.” He hums softly, going quiet for a second, before he adds. “I hope he’s dead. Is this bad? I don’t think so.”

“Nah, I think that’s fair,” Acho agrees with a shrug, also moving to start actually cleaning dishes. “I still generally like humans, despite everything. Is that bad, or just.. weird?” 

“I.. don’t know,” Mumbo answers honestly. He hears someone shuffling behind them, probably quickly entering the kitchen and leaving, they are at work after all. But at this point Mumbo doesn’t care, giving in to the white noise. “I was.. a human once. I wasn’t born a Vampire. Did Scar or Grian ever tell you this?” He asks curiously, his voice slightly unsure and small.

“No, they didn’t,” Acho hums, focused on the dishes but very clearly giving Mumbo stars conscious attention. “..I think you’d be pretty cool either way. You’re a good guy, Mumbo. Your partners and friends are lucky to have you.”

“Yeah..” Mumbo hums, closing his eyes for a second, trying to let all the voices in, the noise of the tavern once again swallowing him whole. Opening his eyes, he looks back at the Fae with the most gentle smile he can manage. “Thank you, Acho. I think you’re a good guy, too.”

Acho’s hands freeze in the middle of reaching for a bowl, pointed ear flicking up as his eyes dart to the Vampire. He looks caught completely off-guard, a little shocked, a little confused. “Oh,” he squeaks, ducking his head to try (and fail) to hide how his face flushes in embarrassment. “Th-thanks,” he mutters.

Mumbo chuckles at that, but otherwise doesn’t comment, as he turns away, back to his work. He didn’t notice when the red in his eyes faded away, didn’t notice when his hand stopped itching, and despite not interacting with Acho much before, now he feels grateful to have star by his side, as he listens to the laughter in the background, and allows himself to breathe.

---

“Oh my Gods I got it!” Grian yelps, standing over the White-tailed deer he managed to spear down, panting for breath. His wings are vibrating with adrenaline, the right wing much more enthusiastic in its movements than his healing left one. “Owen I actually got it, it’s down, holy fuck!”  

“Thank the Dragon ,” Owen mutters, walking toward Grian also out of breath. “Seriously, this shouldn’t have taken as long as it did!” The quest would have ended hours ago if they had their wings and they didn’t struggle with just moving around. But with all the bandages, and the pulsing pain in their backs with every move, it took them hours to just track down the thing and then chase it down. “If we hurry back to the village, we can get another commission for the day before it’s too late.”

The Sunbird groans despairingly, leaning heavily against a tree to catch his breath. “Void, do we have to? Owen my wing is killing me, man–” He chokes, going stiff as a board and swallowing thickly. “I-I mean. We can, er. We can take another one if we’ve got time, sorry, ignore me–”

“What? No, no, it’s okay!” Owen quickly retorts, smiling awkwardly. “We can go back, I don’t think the others would be upset with us if we come back with one, I mean, we are still recovering. On the contrary, I think Jimmy will be happy to have us back without a second commission, so it’s fine. We don’t have to push ourselves, if something hurts.”

Grian hums, the noise strangled and a bit too high-pitched. How many times has he made the others push past their pain? How many times has he ignored Apo’s back flare-ups, or Scar’s weak legs, or Martyn’s spine, or Mumbo’s hands, or– “I-is your wing okay, Owen?” He asks carefully, trying to keep the tremble out of his own wing.

Owen looks back at his wings, eyebrows furrowed. “I think? It hurts a bit, and I wouldn’t want to run anymore, but I think I can walk around.” He puts his hands together, lifting them above his head and stretching, hearing a little pop in his back that pulses a little painfully, but also gives him some relief. “The problem is the deer. Are we dragging it back to the village? It’s not too far, so– What was on the paper again? I didn’t read it fully.”

Grian swallows again, folding his wings neatly behind him and ignoring the flash of agony it earns him, rather smoothly if he must say. “Pretty sure we’re dragging this thing to the Butcher’s? Good if so, it’s closest to this side of the forest. I can haul it I think? I mean it’s a.. big fella, but I can probably manage..”

“Do we have a rope? Didn’t we bring one? We can drag it back with the rope,” Owen asks, looking inside his own bag. “If we work together, we can drag it back in like.. twenty minutes or so.” 

“O-okay, yeah, that works,” Grian nods along, planting a talon on the deer’s corpse and yanking his spear out, grimacing at the small splatter of blood on his sharp toes. “Ugh, that’s gonna be a pain to rinse off,” he mumbles to himself.

Owen snorts at that, as she finally finds the rope in the bag. With help from Grian, they quickly tie it around the deer, and wrapping it around her hand a few times, she drags the deer forward, testing how it will work. “I wonder what time it is..” Owen mumbles, looking up at the sky.

“Well it’s definitely midday-ish,” Grian drawls, taking firm hold of the other makeshift handhold, before the two avians begin the slow process of dragging the carcass to the village. It’s silent for a bit, but Grian cannot stand silence, so he asks, “Think the others are having lunch yet?”

Owen grimaces a bit, her stomach growling. “Agh, don’t remind me of food until we are back, but yes, I think they are either eating, or probably finished.. Considering where the sun is right now, I think lunch is almost over..”

Grian hums. “..I hope they figured out the Scott food situation okay,” he murmurs to himself, before awkwardly clearing his throat, reminding himself to try and keep Scott out of casual conversation. “You’re wanting to take another hunting quest after lunch, right? O-or a different commission?”

“We don’t have to do that, Grian,” the Sparrow reminds him gently. “I mean, it’s probably my inner workaholic talking, but I would take another commission, just not a hunt; I understand that we can’t handle another of those, not today, not tomorrow. But if your wing is hurting too much, we can stay in the hut. We can, ah–” He huffs a bit, tugging the rope. “Just relax for the rest of the day? Others won’t mind.”

Grian hums that strange strangled noise again, chewing the inside of his cheek. “A-are you sure? I can’t ask you to go and do things yourself, I can deal with it, it’s fine, I.. I gotta help, gotta be– huff– u-useful, yeah? I’m fine. It’s fine.”

“Okay, stop,” Owen says firmly, going still, as he finally lets out a shaky breath, the dead deer limp behind them. 

Grian freezes in place immediately, talons flexing in the dirt and hands shaking slightly. “..Sorry,” he whispers, staring at the ground with his shoulders hunched.

“What– Why–” Owen sputters for a second, before he sighs heavily, rubbing his eyes. “Okay, let’s start from that, you have nothing to apologize for Grian, you did nothing wrong. And second, you know Apo apparently had a very interesting talk with Scar about not needing to be useful. You’re hurt. We are hurt, it’s okay to take a break, and this is coming from someone who used to be tense and work all the time. You– You don’t sound good, to be honest. Are you sure you’re okay? I promise you, if something is wrong, we can just go back to the hut and stay there for the rest of the day. I will also stay.”

Grian swallows again, taking shuddering breaths and dutifully avoiding eye contact. He’s hurt them. He’s hurt them all so much, what right does he have to– What nerve does he have to– 

“I’m sorry,” he says again, this time in a wheeze, before suddenly he’s on his knees on the ground and choking on more wheezes, his left wing practically springing into a spread again instead of being folded, immediately trembling enough to be clearly visible. Void it hurts, it burns–  

“Oh gods,” Owen flinches, immediately taking off the rope from her hand and dropping down on the ground next to Grian, looking over his wing. “When did this happen? Why didn’t you–” She immediately bites down on her lip, grimacing. “Right.. I’m not one to talk.” She sighs, her hands on the Sunbird’s shoulders gently. “Okay, let’s.. Let’s sit here for a second, and then I can drag the deer back to the village myself, okay? You’re hurt. We don’t want you agitating your wing even worse.”

“Can’t– gotta– h-have to help,” Grian protests, still wheezing and curling into himself more by the second, every moment seeming to worsen his trembling. He hugs himself tight, digging his claws into his arms and trying to make himself seem as small as possible. “Made them– have to– I-I’m fine I have to be fine Owen I can’t– I’m sorry– ”

“You need to be fine, and for you to be fine, you need to let your wing rest, Grian,” Owen argues softly. “Listen, I know that you’ve been.. struggling since the fight with Martyn,” she starts sheepishly, her grip on the Sunbird’s shoulder tightening. “But it doesn’t mean that you have to.. cause pain to yourself on purpose. I don’t think anyone in the group will like that, you know it. You’re hurting yourself, Grian, this is not working to be better, you feel guilt and try to fix it by hurting yourself. It’s.. not very healthy.” She sighs heavily, and with some hesitance, nuzzles into his temple, letting out a soft reassuring chirp. 

Grian instinctively trills back with a returning nuzzle, cutting himself off with a sob. That’s when the dam finally breaks. “I’m so sorry, Owen. ‘M sorry for how I treated you all– n-not just the past week but since we met, I–” Another sob, a remorseful chirp, but he barrels through. “I’ve never taken you, Apo or Acho seriously, I’ve never treated you with the same respect o-or mindfulness as the others, I hardly ever– chirp!– ever even acknowledged you three, I treated you like utter shit and I am so so sorry, Owen…” The sobs finally take over, and he basically doubles over in tears, wing and shoulders trembling while he chirps and chirps and chirps.

For a second Owen feels like a terrible person. It’s not because he made Grian cry or something, no, it’s because of something selfish. He can feel Grian’s shoulders trembling, he can hear all those desperate chirps and thrills, can see the terrible state of his wing, and yet.. He feels some kind of selfish satisfaction hearing Grian’s words. He wouldn’t say that Grian treated them like shit exactly, more like.. almost non-existent. As if they were never there. 

The fact that Grian acknowledges that now is a very good step to a better future for Owen and her siblings in this group, so this makes her happy. And yet.. some part of her still feels pain for the Sunbird’s current state, of course it does. She doesn’t want Grian breaking down in tears because of her, she doesn’t want Grian in pain because of them. 

“It’s okay, Grian, I promise..” Owen mutters into the Sunbird’s temple, from time to time answering to all his chirps. “We are gonna make it better. And we are not angry at you for that, we can still patch things up, there’s still time.”

Grian gasps for air and rubs the heels of his palms harshly at his eyes, trying to stop the fucking tears. Can he have one proper fucking apology without breaking down like this?! “I’ll do– chirp!– w-whatever I can to make it up to you. All of you, I mean that, I.. I have a lot to make up for..- trilllll-chirp!– Just. Don’t tell me it’s okay. I’ll do my best to make up for it, but please don’t call everything I did and didn’t do okay…”

“Fine,” the Sparrow mutters with a low chuckle. “But you stop with those I will do anything promises, they usually don’t end well, you know? We would rather keep you around for much longer, than lose you to something very dumb in an attempt to make it up to us. You… you work on yourself, and we point out if you fall back into bad habits and do something to make us uncomfortable, okay?”

Grian takes a deep, shaky breath, nodding firmly. “Deal. Y-yeah, that’s.. That sounds good.” Then he sighs again, finally fully curling into himself with his arms hugged around his middle, almost low enough to look like he’s bowing. After a moment of quiet, he tips sideways, laying on his side with his wings splayed out on the ground behind him. “..My wing’s numb,” he softly admits, said left wing now completely limp with the occasional twitch that he clearly can’t feel anymore. “Clipped a tree.. running.. g-gonna.. lay here a bit, y-yeah…”

“Oh, I didn’t.. even notice that, it was a busy chase, my bad,” Owen grimaces, patting the Sunbird’s head, while she sits by his side with her legs crossed. “Yeah, let’s do that. And after I drag the deer to the Butcher’s, we are immediately going to Cordelia. I think her place is right after the butcher’s on the way to the hut, so just our luck. Well, as lucky a visit to Cordelia is, you’re gonna get even more of those terrible potions now,” she reminds Grian with a snort.

The Sunbird wheezes out an incredulous little laugh. “Just as I got off ‘em, too. Look at me go,” he muses tiredly. “..Are you sure you can get that thing yourself..? ‘S heavy…”

Owen chuckles again, leaning over and her long braid falling in front of her. “It might be a bit of a trouble with the wing, but when I’m healthy, I have enough power to drag two, trust me, I’ll get this thing back with no problem– but I don’t think any of us will be taking any quests tomorrow, or we’ll take a single easy one. Our muscles will need one heck of a rest after this.”

Grian hums his agreement, glancing up at Owen’s right wing. “Would you b-be against..” He hesitates, biting his lip and looking back down at the ground. “N-nevermind.”

“Hey, hey, communication between us, remember?” Owen asks, raising an eyebrow. “If you have something to ask, do it.”

Grian whines weakly, curling up just a little tighter and continuing to avoid eye contact, even as he blurts, “Wouldyouwannamaybepreeneachotherlater?” 

Owen blinks down at the Sunbird, before she quickly covers her mouth and bursts into muffled laughter, taking Grian off guard. “I– I wouldn’t mind, actually,” she says softly, her shoulders trembling with every chuckle. “Jimmy actually.. asked that before. If I’d like to join you two one day. I would love to, if both of you are okay with it.”

Grian blinks up at the Sparrow, clearly surprised, but he manages an almost shy smile. “O-okay. Yeah, I’d.. like to. Yes.” Then he takes another breath, slowly getting up with a small groan. “..I can’t tell if this is better or worse than the pain, but oh well– off we go? I guess? If you’re ready?”

“Ah, if you can walk, yeah,” Owen says hesitantly, still worried about Grian’s state. She stands up slowly, dusting away all the dirt, before she turns back to the deer and takes both sides of the rope, wrapping them on each hand. “Okay, I drag it and you look around, just in case, okay? If you see something let me know.”

“Y-yep! Can do!” The Sunbird grunts, moving to his feet with a slight stumble and moving behind to walk behind the dragging carcass. His right wing tucks close to his back again, while his left remains almost-limp and twitching– he’s only able to keep it lifted enough for the longest of his feathers to just barely sweep through the dirt while the two slowly make their way to the village, and it trembles near-violently the whole time with the strain.

The path back to the village was longer than they initially thought, Owen now dragging the deer by himself, but soon enough they see the familiar walls and a giant written “Tbilisi” next to the entrance, the Sparrow exhaling in relief. Step by step they finally reach the Butcher’s, get the money pouch that was apparently left there for the two of them by the commissioner, leave the deer behind, and finally start to slowly walk toward Cordelia’s place. 

“Jimmy is probably already there,” Owen points out, looking at the clock tower of the village, the hands showing just past two. Upon the reminder of the time and that lunchtime is over, Owen’s stomach once again growls, telling him that it’s time to eat. “Agh, maybe we can go to the tavern after this? I don’t know if others grabbed something for us for lunch and it's back in the hut, but I would rather eat a proper hot meal right now.”

“Yeah, we can do that, definitely,” Grian mutters dazedly, shoulders shaking slightly. “Think Mumbo ‘n Acho are still there? Probably, yeah, dumb question, s’rry..”

“Oh, good Gods,” Owen grimaces, reaching for Grian’s hand and throwing it over her shoulder. “This will be better, I think. Come on, let’s drag you to Cordelia and Jimmy,” she says, one hand holding Grian’s and the other secure on the Sunbird’s waist.

“Sorry,” Grian wheezes, leaning heavily on the Sparrow as they stumble along. “Dunno why ‘m so lightheaded, sorry.. Did I.. Void fuck, did I re-break it with that.. hit..? S-sorry.. I said that already didn’t I, shit, sor– ah–”

“I hope not,” the Sparrow grumbles. “Breaking a wing is already awful, re-breaking just a few days later? Let’s just hope for the better, okay?” As they get close to the right building, she quickly opens the door inside– already used to the place– and walks in, Grian by her side. “Helloooo!”

“Ah? Owen?” Jimmy greets questioningly, confusion immediately shifting into a cringe. “Oh Void, what happened?”

“Heeyyy Timmy,” Grian groans.

“Ah. Back fer more ah see,” Cordelia deadpans, raising a brow at the two avians. “What’s this I ‘ear ‘bout you two goin’ on a huntin’ quest? In y’all’s states? Ser’sly?”

“In our defense..” Owen starts with an awkward smile. “We got to the board just when the commissioner was putting it on, and he somehow.. recognized us? I guess the word spreads around a lot, and so nine of us being from the same group.. He asked if we could help, and we can’t just say no , can we? Good money, helping the village’s crops, we need those crops too, considering that we’re living here for a time being. So.. yeah..”

Cordelia sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You Avians.. Why’s it always the Avians…” She grumbles, beckoning the two over to the closest cot. “Tek, get ya friend a potion.”

“Yes ma’am,” Jimmy sighs, equally exasperated, moving to the little brewing station as Cordelia sets to work inspecting Grian’s wing.

“In our defense,” Owen starts again, chuckling. “This is my first time breaking the wing, and I’m sure Grian didn’t have so many problems with his own like this, we are just.. having a bad month,” she explains, as she helps Grian to sit down on the cot. “I just hope that it’s not broken again. I’m fine, I just need some rest, but Grian’s reaction worries me.”

“What tipped ya off to somethin’ wrong?” Cordelia questions, running a surprisingly gentle hand over the healing break. Grian keens, barely held in place by Cordelia’s hand on his shoulder as he flinches violently. Cordelia’s expression pinches just slightly. “Was there a physical or emotional reaction first?”

“Ah– Well..” Owen grimaces slightly, trying to remember how everything went in order, as she shifts nervously on her feet. “I would say physical? He was.. making weird noises and breathing very heavily, and then he just.. collapsed, the emotional came after that..”

Cordelia hums, the slightest glow to her eyes as she feels along the arch of Grian’s wing. “Welp. Bone’s just a little jostled, but your magic vein’s messed up again. Not snapped this time, thank the damn Dragon, but I’m guessin’ yer wing’s been numb?” Grian nods, and she continues, “That’d be why. Fixable. Thank yer lucky stars y’ didn’t break the bone again, kid, you won’t be on potions as long as before. The magic disconnect to yer Soul’s what’s causin’ the lightheadedness yer prolly feelin’. That’ll go away with the first potion.”

Grian can only lightly wheeze out a chirp, shoulders slumping slightly. He manages to look relieved and terrified at the same time.

“At least some good news,” Owen sighs, rubbing his temples. “We’ve been having so much bad luck recently, I’m surprised we got out with just a messed up vein,” he says, as he flops down on the cot by Grian’s side. 

“Messed up magic vein,” Jimmy softly corrects, finally returning with a potion in hand. “They facilitate flight instead of pumping blood. Grian, you are so insanely lucky you didn’t snap it again, those veins can only take so much.”

“Jus’ gimme the potion ‘f nasty,” Grian grumbles under his breath, claws still buried deep in the cot.

The Canary sighs, popping the loose cork off the bottle and tipping the liquid slowly into Grian’s mouth, carefully coaxing him into taking small sips.

“Well, now that that’s out of way, how was the lunch break?” Owen asks, crossing her hands over her chest. “We tried to get back as fast as possible, and Grian was worrying a lot, but yeah, couldn’t manage.”

Jimmy nearly fumbles the potion bottle, barely managing to catch it before spilling the sparkly liquid on the Sunbird. “Er. W-well, actually, about that-?” He cringes, quietly assessing how to explain the mess that was lunchtime to the two. “..Not great. It was. Erm. Very bad actually.”

Grian blinks sluggishly, squinting at Jimmy and tilting away from the potion at his lips. “Wha’ ‘appened?” He croaks.

Owen hides her face in her hands for a second, taking a deep breath, not very excited for this explanation. “Okay.. okay, I’m fine,” she says, putting her down on the cot. “What happened? How bad is it? Considering that you’re here, I can at least say no one died…. No one died, right?” She asks with a grimace.

“No one died, good lord,” Jimmy groans, rubbing between his eyebrows. “Scott.. bit Martyn? Like really, really hard?”

“Oh Void,” Grian chokes out, paling. “H-how bad-?”

“Blood everywhere,” Jimmy deadpans. “At least that’s what Scar told me when he came to get a potion for Martyn. The way he described it, I won’t be surprised if it scars.”

Despite trying to hold it in as much as she could, a snort escapes the Sparrow, before she immediately covers her mouth in embarrassment. She looks away for a second, trying to calm down, before she takes a deep breath and turns back to the others. “Oh.. They bit him..” She clarifies, trying to fight the smile. “Were you told why they did that? I would love to hear it.”

“Something about a comment he made,” Jimmy sighs, fighting an exasperated smile. “I didn’t get details, that’s something to ask Acho about, apparently they were the one up there with him when it happened.”

“Gods…” Grian groans, burying his face in his hands to muffle sudden giggles. “Ohh Gods, do I even wanna know..?”

“I do!” Owen says, raising her hand. “I really want to know whose idea it was to send Martyn to Scott.”

“Oh they rock paper scissors’d it,” Jimmy deadpans again, clearly unimpressed. “Scar seemed briefly proud of that idea.”

“Either I’m staying at the hut or Martyn’s out of the rotation,” Grian decides, groaning. “Who thought that was a good idea.. Martyn? Really? Of all people??”

At this point, the Sparrow doesn’t even try to hide her clear amusement, as she bursts into laughter. “I mean– Acho was there, so they– probably thought it was g-gonna be fine, but good Gods–” She wipes the tears away, clenching her stomach, trying to calm down. “I wish I saw that, I’m sorry, but that would be so– sorry, I shouldn’t be laughing,” she coughs nervously, straightening up. “He was hurt, nothing to laugh about, sorry.”

“Oh no, it’s hilarious,” Jimmy snorts, grabbing the unfinished potion again and actually handing it to Grian this time, now that he’s more coherent. “I had a good cackle earlier. Scar and Apo were frazzled outta their wits ‘cause of the spook, but honestly? Knowing him, Martyn brought it upon himself. Whatever comment he made was probably supremely petty and pissed Scott off, and the dude is literally feral half the time. Should know better by now, the idiot…”

“True,” Owen nods, chuckling. “Did they eat though? Well.. something other than Martyn’s hand. We’re going to the tavern after this and we can grab something for them too. You all will be back too late, the shift just barely started.”

“Dunno,” Jimmy admits with another sigh. “Likely not. I’d assume the others were either too frazzled and forgot and too scared of an angry Scott and didn’t bother. Getting them food sounds like a good idea.”

Grian hums in agreement, taking sips of his potion between grimaces and shudders. “Yeah, we’ll grab Scott something then. Good plan, Owen.”

“Pff, thank you,” the Sparrow snorts, her chest feeling bubbly. She’s actually.. getting used to these compliments. It’s nice. She jumps off the cot, stretching, before she turns back to Grian. “How you feeling? Is it helping a bit?”

“Yeah,” the Sunbird sighs, taking another sip of potion. “Feeling’s coming back, which isn’t the best ever, but it’s certainly better. And I don’t feel like passing out anymore so.. yaayyy…” 

“Food is gonna help him, right?” Owen asks Jimmy, before she immediately turns back to Grian. “Sorry, I’m hungry. I’m very hungry.”

“Yes it will! Go get your food, shoo shoo,” Jimmy snickers, finally moving to join Cordelia in another room of the place.

“To the tavern then, I suppose,” Grian says with a snort, finally finishing his potion and prying his claws out of the cot to stand up. “C’mon, I’ve kept you from sustenance long enough.”

“Yes! ” Owen whisper-shouts, holding up her fist, before she turns back to the Sunbird with a chuckle. “Do you want help or–?”

“N-nah, no I’m okay just–” The Sunbird grimaces, shuddering at a spike of pain in his wing. “Just.. s-slow walking, maybe..? I hate to make you wait to eat more, but I genuinely don’t think I can move faster than a hobble right now, erm–”

“My Gods, just come here,” Owen grumbles, reaching for the Sunbirds waist. “Now to the tavern, slow and steady,” she announces, turning back to the door where Jimmy disappeared. “We are leaving!! See you back at the hut!” She calls out, before she slowly guides Grian out of the building.

“I’m sorry,” Grian whines, visibly mortified as he stumbles alongside the Sparrow. “Stupid tree, stupid wing, stupid bloody deer– ”

“It’s fine, I promise,” Owen reassures him softly. “You’re hurt, and we are.. friends, right? Friends help each other out when they need it. When Apo’s back hurts, me or Acho carry her all the time!” She reminds him, as they slowly walk toward the tavern. 

“Right..” Grian whispers, gritting his teeth at another stab of pain. It’s less this time, thankfully, the potion already going to work. Right, the piggyback rides. Scar’s been giving Apo those sometimes now. Just another thing he managed to completely ignore for a year.

As they approach the tavern, Owen starts hearing more and more yelling, the place being too loud for her ears. She has been in here a lot, but it was never this crowded as it is now when they enter the building. The place is basically overrun. Yes, she can see some tables here and there, but the biggest tables are full of people partying. Huh.

She wonders what’s going on, as she guides them toward the empty table, helping Grian to sit down. “And here we are!”

“Thanks.. Oof, I forgot it was Red Friday,” Grian sighs tiredly, settling his wings as comfortably as he can. “Acho and Mumbo are gonna be swamped if they have shifts all weekend, though I imagine they’ll be off for Sunday at least? Or was the family day Saturday, I don’t quite remember…” 

“Ah, I’d ask Apo that question,” Owen answers with a hum. “She’s the one that knows the religious celebrations out of our trio. I didn’t even know it was Red Friday, isn’t it like.. a Blood God celebration? The name and the red around the tavern confirms it I guess, but I’d never expect these people to celebrate Blood, I need to ask Apo what the celebration is about.”

“It’s mostly Blood God, yeah, but it’s also.. Oh gosh I really need to touch up on my religious holidays, I only really remember that Mondays are remembrance days? Celebrations and mourning of passed Souls and rebirth, I’m pretty sure. Mumbo briefly explained it to me ‘cause Monday’s the bearable day for them,” Grian awkwardly explains, eyes glued to the wall of the kitchen. “Hope they’re doing okay,” he murmurs, clearly to himself.

“Oh, I didn’t see them outside,” Owen murmurs, looking toward the kitchen. She can see at least three people with recognizable red aprons with the tavern logo, but can’t see Acho and Mumbo anywhere. “Do you think they aren’t working the second shift?” She wonders aloud, just as a voice speaks behind them.

“Who?” Acho asks, popping up near their table with a notebook in stars hands.

“Oh my goodness–” Grian chokes, startled. “H-hi Acho. You ‘n Mumbo, actually, but seems you are!” He awkwardly comments. They bonded a little yesterday, at least he thinks they did, but is he allowed to be casual with star around Owen too-?

“We came for foooood,” Owen drawls, repeatedly hitting her palms on the table, making Acho chuckle.

“Yeah, we are, can’t miss a busy day– Mumbo is in the kitchen, they have been working in there for the second shift, so you might not see him out here,” Acho explains, nodding a little to Grian. “How was the hunt? What do you want for me to get you?”

“Uuhhh, tomato soup please?” Grian requests with a nervous chuckle. “The hunt, er.. I kinda busted my wing again? It’s a lot quicker of a fix than before though! Didn’t even snap anything this time!”

“Oh, yikes,” Acho hisses, shivering, while writing down Grian’s order in stars notebook. “I don’t think it was a good idea for you two to take a hunting commission. Take care you two, yeah? Don’t be a duo of dumbasses, we have other dumbasses in the group, we kinda need your brains.”

Owen snorts, leaning against her chair. “Our brains are irreplaceable, you’re so right, Acho! Also, get me whatever you have, just hot, I’m so hungry I would eat a horse.”

“Or a deer,” Grian grumbles to himself, still bitter about that damned to hell deer.  

“HAH!” Owen cackles, confusing Acho, as star looks around the two with a questioning glance. 

“Oooookay.. Moving on, I’ll get your order in a few minutes, rest here,” Acho says, before they disappear between people, going back toward the kitchen. 

Grian hums, resting his chin on his hands and setting them on the barrel-table, mumbling to himself. In the noise of the tavern, Owen catches very little; “..magic… …it go..? …ask them… ..Cordelia… ..next time…”

Owen smiles hesitantly, leaning a bit forward. “What are you whispering about there?” She asks, placing her hands down on the table.

“Ah–” Grian jerks up a bit, blinking. “S-sorry, just.. thinking out loud,” he mutters, resting his chin back down. “‘bout the magic veins..”

“Oh?” Owen raises an eyebrow, also putting her chin down on her hands. “Coin for your thoughts?” 

Grian hums, ear wings flapping nervously. He shouldn’t.. he said he’d stop, didn’t he..? But.. he promised honesty.. If you have a thought, speak it, right? “Breaking or jostling mine led to.. all that,” he finally murmurs, staring at the wood grain of the barrel. He decides to be vague, test the waters. “I just.. can’t help but wonder what happens when worse stuff gets done to them, I guess.”

“When they are completely cut off,” Owen says straightforwardly, looking up at the ceiling for a second. “Yeah.. makes you think about a lot of bad stuff, doesn’t it?”

Grian hums again, bringing his other hand up to bury half his face between his arms. “..Scar said once that magic without anywhere to go gets angry,” he whispers, eyes glued to the barrel. “He called it corruption. Magic without anywhere to go becomes.. Void-touched. I.. think it might be why Scott’s sclera is black. Why their voice is the way it is. It’s magic corruption, because their body’s natural magic outlet was taken from them…”

“Well.. If it’s corruption, then how do we fix it exactly?” Owen asks as she sits up, her arms once again crossed over her chest. “I mean.. We can’t exactly give them their wings back, or make new outlets, so how do we help if this is the reason?”

“I don’t know,” Grian admits just as quietly, followed by a soft sigh. “I.. I really don’t know anything. I’m speculating, thinking aloud, I.. do that. Sorry.”

“No, no, it’s good,” Owen cuts him off with a frown. “I mean, we decided to help them, so we are helping them. If you have any thoughts about why they are like this, or how to help them, feel free to tell me, even if you don’t have an idea of how to fix it yet. All the fixes come later, after the ideas are shared, you know?”

“Yeah,” Grian mutters with a sheepish smile, rubbing his eyes. He doesn’t think he’s apologized so much in one day since… Actually, he’s not gonna follow that train of thought. “I-I dunno, if it is magic corruption that’s definitely not something I can help with, that’s Scar’s thing for sure. Though maybe it’s something about their blood? In which case Jimmy would be the most helpful? I dunno, I.. I really just don’t know. I keep getting ahead of myself with them, I keep forgetting you all don’t.. know them yet…”

“Well, we have time to learn,” Owen states with a shrug. “It’s a process. A long one, I think, but a process nonetheless. We help Scott to open up more, and to trust us, and then when they do, we can find out how to help them. Jimmy asked them about wounds and scared them off, right? I think we can theorize about helping them, but also acknowledge that we probably won’t be able to do that for a while. When the trust and connection will be there.. we will find a fix together as a group.”

“Yeah,” Grian hums, taking a shaky breath and leaning back to stare at the ceiling. “..I really hope the biting isn’t a habit,” he suddenly grumbles.

It takes Owen exactly three seconds to burst into hysterical laughter, the attention from neighboring tables turning back to them. Fortunately for them, people are busy with their own funny little stories, so their attention is almost immediately lost, but Gods this made Owen laugh. 

As if on cue, Acho suddenly pops up near their table out of nowhere, spooking the two once again. “What are we laughing at?” Star asks, taking a bowl off the tray. “Tomato soup for Grian–” They say, placing the bowl in front of the said man. “And chicken broth for Owen.” They place another bowl in front of the Sparrow. “Also since Tekla is in a good mood today, allowing one free drink for the workers here and their family, I used the family card and grabbed you something. I don’t know your preferences, Grian, didn’t want to risk it, so apple juice it is,” Acho smirks, placing a cup of juice in front of the avian. “And you Owen, I found something interesting on the menu, so for you Saperavi,” he adds, placing a glass of dark red liquid in front of the Sparrow. Immediately after that, he reaches for a small piece of paper with their order on the tray and puts it down in the middle of the table. 

“What–” Owen looks inside, sniffing, and snorts. “Did you– Did you get me wine for free?” 

“Yep,” Acho answers with a pop.

“Apple juice,” Grian squeaks happily, ear wings flapping as he immediately takes a sip. “Oh the sweet taste of potion being washed the hell away, thank yooouuuu…”

Owen chuckles at the man’s reaction, sipping on his wine for a second, before he puts the glass down on the table. “Good to know you’re very enthusiastic about apple juice.”

“Same,” Acho says with stars own giggles. “I didn’t want to risk getting you something you wouldn’t drink, so..”

“Dude I love apple juice,” Grian whispers, dramatically reverent. Then he takes another sip, before pausing, ear wings twitching again. “..Why didn’t you just ask Mumbo though? I mean I don’t mind the juice, obviously, but didn’t you say they were in there?”

Acho flinches slightly, blinking down at the Sunbird. “I– Well, everyone has their job in there, you know, and Mumbo was a bit busy.. We just walk in and out all the time, I just.. forgot that I could ask?” They supply with an awkward smile, holding the tray close to their chest.

Owen raises an eyebrow, looking between the two, but immediately recognizing the lies and the growing tension, doesn’t speak as she reaches for her chicken broth. 

Grian hums, very clearly not believing a word Acho just said, but unwilling to call them on it. “..Okay,” he mutters instead, taking a much more awkward sip of his juice. “...Thanks, Acho. Won’t keep you any longer, erm.. Have a good shift.”

“Yeah– Ah.. I’ll go, I have more tables to serve, so..” For a second Acho and Owen’s eyes meet, and the latter immediately catches the worry in Fae’s eyes, before they move and walk back toward the kitchen.

“He’s probably fine,” Owen says as soon as Acho leaves, turning back to the Sunbird. “Maybe he just.. didn’t take the whole Martyn thing well and he’s just hiding in there from the people outside. Acho would have said something if it was bad or important.”

“I know,” Grian hums, drawing little shapes in the fog of the condensation on his glass with his claw. He seems a bit unsure, but clearly truthful in his words. “I trust Acho. I just worry. ‘S who I am, heh.”

Owen hums in understanding, and the two finally fall into a comfortable silence, eating their soup and broth respectively. Grian is clearly very happy with his juice, and Owen is equally pleased with his indulgent bit of wine. The avians make idle chatter occasionally, but honestly, they were both so hungry that most of their time in the tavern after that is spent utterly devouring their food. Grian sends glances at the kitchen occasionally, talons tapping anxiously on the floor with that now-dried bloodstain he’s trying very desperately to ignore the itchy feeling of. So they eat, both their bowls empty in a solid half hour. Impressive for bowls that size, really, but Owen did say she was hungry enough to eat a horse… 

“We should ask for something for Scott,” Owen says, as she slowly stands up from the table. She looks around, and noticing a familiar red apron, waves a black haired woman over, as he reaches down into the bag, taking out the small pouch of coins. He looks down at the paper on the table, checking the final price, and quickly counts their money.

“Oh, You’re Mumbo and Acho’s friends,” the woman points out enthusiastically, her eyes darting between the two. “I hope you enjoyed the food!” 

“It was lovely,” Grian compliments easily, talons tapping on the floor in a mix of lingering nerves and joy. “I haven’t had food so homey in ages, I loved it, thank you.”

“Funny you say that, Most of the portions we have left were cooked by Mumbo,” she says giggling, as Owen hands her the piece of paper and the coins, the woman immediately checking the price and then counting the money. “Well– This is it! Thanks for visiting the tavern! I hope we can see you again!” She says, but before she turns around and leaves, Owen stops her.

“Wait, uh– We wanted something to take home? Yeah, Grian, do you know what to take for Scott?” The Sparrow asks, turning back to the Sunbird. 

“Oh Gods, I mean– I dunno, they seem to like the beef stuffs I give them?” Grian flounders for a moment, mentally smacking himself for not thinking of this in advance. “Er– Oh, I think I saw Khinkali on a menu somewhere? Did I read it right?”

The woman giggles slightly, covering her mouth for a second. “Not rough enough with a kh sound, but don’t worry, a lot of people struggle with it, and your accent sounds cute, so I’ll let it slide,” she declares as she turns around toward the kitchen. “You can wait in front of the counter, I'll put your order in.” And with the tray with all the bowls and cups from Owen and Grian, she walks to the kitchen, Owen following her with a snort.

“I like her attitude.”

“Of course you do,” Grian whines, reddened face already hidden in his hands. “I never get the bloody pronunciation right.. ‘s not cute.. urghhh…”

“Well, to be honest, I heard Cordelia speaking their language, and her accent was also wacky, and considering how she literally lives here and has known that language for a very long time, I think it’s a very common thing,” Owen shrugs, as they finally stop in front of the counter, the string in front of them, filled with different orders, and the noise in the kitchen with people running around and putting all the food on the trays. She can see Acho in there, talking to a woman probably around her own age, Acho looking slightly apologetic. Mumbo isn’t there. 

Grian hums to himself, talons once again tapping rapidly on the floor as his anxiety rises bit by bit. He’s had a wriggling worry for his partner in the back of his mind since he realized what day, and subsequently what week, it is. Mumbo’s relationship with the color red varies from slight anxiety to bone-chilling shutdowns, and a whole holiday surrounded by the color? A whole holiday centered mostly around the Blood God? Fuck, fuck he should’ve said something earlier, why is he so stupid–  

Owen can see the same woman that took their order moving to Acho and the owner of the place, and telling them something, immediately catching their attention. She can guess that that ‘something’ was her and Grian, because the second she says it, the owner and Acho turn back toward them, Acho slightly grimacing. They quickly wave them in, telling Owen and Grian to enter the kitchen, which starts to kinda freak out the Sparrow.

“Ah– Something is happening, I think,” she mutters, as she walks to the side of the long counter and walks into the open kitchen, slowly getting closer to the duo, as the woman who took their order leaves. 

“Gathered that,” the Sunbird croaks, glancing around the busy kitchen for any sight of the Vampire. Idiot, idiot, he’s an idiot, what’s happening? He has to fight back the puffing of his feathers, claws anxiously tapping at his arms.

“–ne, they clearly need this, I’d rather work here myself for two than force them out, it’s okay,” the woman in front of Acho sounds gentle, as she sighs heavily, looking back at Owen and Grian with a sad smile. “Hello, always nice to meet friends of our newbies here,” she says, trying to keep some humor, as she bumps shoulders with Acho. “I will.. go help out with the tables, you can join once you’re free, Acho.” 

“Okay, Tekla, I’m really sorry again, I trie–”

“Nope, shush,” she interrupts him, turning around. “Get them out of here, I’ll see them around once they are feeling better,” and with that, she moves back to the counter, taking down a note to start making the order.

Acho sighs heavily, rubbing stars eyes. “I’m sorry.. I hoped he would feel better by the time you are finished, but…”

“Acho what’s going on?” Grian questions, trying desperately not to sound demanding in his anxiety. “Where is Mumbo? What happened?”  

“Well..” Acho shifts on stars feet, a bit nervous hearing this desperation in Grian’s words. “I don’t exactly know what’s wrong to be honest, I guess they were kinda.. pretty out of it the whole day? It was a bit better in the morning shift, but he was still zoning out a lot, but then the thing with Martyn happened– Oh Gods, do you know what happened with Martyn? You probably don’t–”

“We do, we visited Jimmy and he explained some stuff that Apo and Scar told him,” Owen says quickly, urging Acho to continue.

“Okay, okay so when we came back here after lunch, I–” They grimace slightly, avoiding eye contact with Grian. “I was a bit out of it for my personal reasons I won’t name, but we had a talk? And I thought we were fine? Mostly at least, it was still a rocky start of the shift, and Mumbo had this strange look sometimes, and I guess everything just broke down a few minutes before you arrived? Elene said something about Mumbo cutting carrots for the next dish that needed to be restocked as quickly as possible, and he accidentally cut his finger? She said it wasn’t much, just a little paper-like cut, but they just.. shut down after that and then closed themself in the bathroom? We tried to call him, and at some point I decided to just enter and talk to him, but he was just.. sitting there on the floor and not saying anything so I just left, because I was told you arrived, and well.. Yeah. He’s still in there,” they say, pointing a finger toward the door in the end of the kitchen. 

Grian mutters a curse, making an aborted half-move toward the door. “Can– A-am I allowed over there, I need– Gods, I need to–” He stops hesitating, speed walking to the door and opening it slowly, carefully slipping inside before scanning the bathroom for his Vampire partner.

Just as Acho said, Mumbo is there, sitting on the floor right next to the sinks, hugging his legs closer to his chest with his face hidden in his knees. They don’t even look up to check who entered, they don’t flinch, or make a noise, just.. nothing. 

“..Hey, buddy,” Grian whispers, slowly making his way over and sitting next to Mumbo, not yet touching them. “...What a day, huh?” He mutters, taking up a similar sitting position as the Vampire, knees hugged loosely to his chest. “Chaos here, chaos there, bit of a break, more chaos… Not our best day, is it..?”

As expected, no answer follows. At least now sitting by their side, Grian can see their side profile, most importantly the way their dazed empty eyes are staring at their own legs, blinking sluggishly, clearly not hearing a word said. At least his breathing is normal, which means that it’s not a bad bad episode of dissociation. They are just.. stuck in between real life and the nightmare, their head empty. A hope that Grian can drag them back before they cross the line.

Grian hums, taking a deep breath. “Okay, buddy, my memory’s a bit dusty, but I’m gonna give something a try, alright?” He mutters, fully aware his partner cannot hear him. Carefully, ever so gently, he slips one of his own hands into one of Mumbo’s before leaning against them as a sort of grounding force. Then he begins to hum, really hoping he remembers the right notes in the right order.

Mumbo taught him a lullaby in the labs. Although it wasn’t quite teaching as much as it was.. doing it in front of Grian enough times that he eventually memorized it. Those early weeks when they barely knew each other, when Grian was dissociated more often than he was present, somehow that weird little melody dragged him up every time. Mumbo once said it was one of their dad’s lullabies, a little tune from the Void itself. Grian’s only ever used it to coax Mumbo back from much shallower episodes, something this deep.. It may not work, but he has to try. So he hums, and he waits.

He has to repeat the lullaby at least three times, before Mumbo finally somewhat responds, his fingers slightly twitching. Only now he notices that Mumbo isn’t wearing his gloves. The Vampire blinks more slowly than before, before he finally lifts his head a bit higher, listening to Grian’s voice while staring down at the bathroom floor.

Grian keeps humming, nuzzling Mumbo’s temple with his forehead and rubbing his thumb over their hand, carefully avoiding familiar scars. He doesn’t falter, doesn’t move even when his legs start to get a little numb, when his wing starts to ache from the positioning. All of his own discomfort fades into the background, in favor of bringing his partner back to reality with their dad’s soothing lullaby.

It’s obvious when the biggest progress hits, Mumbo turning his right hand over and staring down at the little cut on his finger. Once again as Acho said, it’s very little, no more blood coming out of it, but it still looks very red and it seems to be his whole focus, as his breath shudders, closing his hand into a fist, the little old scars spread around his outer palm. 

Before Grian can do or say anything, Mumbo slowly collapses to his side, forcing Grain to straighten his legs on the floor, as Mumbo lays his head on the Sunbird’s lap, his shoulders trembling. Not a single word or a sound is made, as he brings his knees closer to his chest. The hard floor that he’s laying on doesn't seem to bother him, as he finds comfort on Grian’s lap, closing his eyes with a shaky sigh. 

Grian sighs softly, bringing a hand up to brush his claws gently through the Vampire’s hair, before starting the lullaby again. This time, after the initial little melody, he begins to whisper-sing the lyrics he suddenly remembers so vividly.

“I remember tears streaming down your face when I said I’ll never let you go…”

Even in his state of mind Mumbo finds it kinda ironic, how this is when he finally cracks, tears slowly filling his eyes.

“When all those shadows almost killed your light…”

He tries to hold himself together every day, pretending as if he’s not breaking inside out, his mind always rushing back home.

“I remember you said Don’t leave me here alone…”

He knows that he’s not alone. He has found his family, he has Scar and Grian, had them for years now, and he has Martyn, oh his beautiful Siren. And he has friends, they are his friends. 

“But all that’s dead and gone and passed toni~ight…”

And yet, even surrounded by so many people, sometimes he still feels like he’s alone.

“Just close your eyes… The sun is going down…”

He knows his parents are waiting. They promised that they would wait for him.

“You’ll be alright… No one can hurt you now…”

It’s still not enough. He needs them.

“Come morning light…”

He wants his parents. He wants to go home.

“You and I’ll be safe.. and.. so~ound…”

But he can’t yet, and all he sees is red, red, red–

Notes:

Note from the authors, you probably didn't notice but our fic now has been added into a series! The Shadowed Exodus Archives series will now contain every single fic, from the actual main timeline, to backstories, to side oneshots. So keep on eye on the series, subscribe if you want to get notifications when something is added to it!

And on the topic of something being added... We might have decided to be generous this week, so have this chapter and a Mumbo backstory in "The Past We Shadow," our new fic specifically for detailed backstories!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/64449343

And link to our discord server! We'll be happy to have you there!

https://discord.gg/AmcKabb425

Enjoy!

Glitchy Text Translations:
"Don't bother,"
"You can tie me back up now."

Chapter 13: You take the man out of the city

Notes:

Chapter title from "End of Beginning" by DJO.

TW/ Dehumanization, Injuries, Blood, Mental health talk, slight religious talk/imagery.

Hover mouse over italicised foreign language or messed up text for translations!
(Mobile and tablet users please see the End Notes)

“I’m baaack,” Jimmy drawls in a tired groan, entering the hut and immediately dropping down to the ground, faceplanting on the wood. As usual, there are slight snickers around, and soon someone is by his side to help him get up and drag the poor Canary back to his mat.

“You’re very late today,” Joel points it out, helping Jimmy to sit down. Yes, he knows that. Usually he finishes his shift right before the sun starts to set, but as he learned, people don’t tend to be careful on the celebrations, so the place was overrun by the wounded and sick by the end of the day. The moon was already showing up when he finished, the red illuminating the whole village. Sometimes he forgets how bright both blood and blue moons are, much lighter than the regular. 

“Yeah, it took longer than I expected.. please tell me you left something for me to eat..” Jimmy whines, sitting down on the mat, as Joel chuckles.

“We have a ah– cold chicken!” Apo tells them, reaching for the mini-fridge they somehow managed to get from the locals. Jimmy groans, covering his face with his hands, making the Demon chuckle. “No worriiies,” she says, holding the plate and moving his hand right above the cold chicken. For a second the tips of her hands light up, warming up the food, the pointed spade tip of her tail also flickering. 

“That is so useful,” Jimmy awes, suddenly reminded of Apo’s powers. She doesn’t exactly use them often. 

“Can you be quiet over there? Someone is trying to sleep here,” Acho complains under the covers, stars eyes covered with a cloth because of the light still on in the room. 

“Poor Acho, ” Apo mocks, snorting. “Worked very hard today.”

“I did, thank you very much,” the Fae grumbles in response.

Jimmy yawns, blinking away the tears, all the exhaustion getting to him even worse. “I really need to sleep..” He whispers, as Apo hands him a plate with a warmed up chicken. “I should probably check on–” He turns back to find Martyn who has been quiet this whole time, thinking about checking his new wound, but he immediately shuts up, noticing the Siren.

“Ah– Is he.. okay?” Jimmy asks, his voice hushed, as he looks at Martyn, who’s sitting on his mat against the wall shaking and staring at the window. The Siren doesn’t say anything, just looking outside at the red light. 

“Well..” Grian grumbles, lifting his head up from the mat, as he looks at Martyn. “He’s.. nervous.”

“And why is he nervous?” Jimmy asks with a weak snort looking around, and the answer comes to him almost immediately, because Mumbo isn’t here.

“Mumbo went to Scott,” Apo hums, still standing near Jimmy. 

“They what?!” Jimmy exclaims, looking back at the others. “Why? Why alone? What is he doing there?!” 

“Well.. he’s.. He said he’s gonna.. sleep there?” Owen says sheepishly, confusing Jimmy even further.

“Wha– What do you mean Mumbo is gonna sleep on the roof?” 

Grian sighs heavily, rubbing his eyes. “He said something about the moon.. I think he’s forcing himself to stay under the blood moon, so.. He said he’s gonna be okay alone and the way he said it, it was basically a ‘don’t follow me,’ so Martyn is very out of it.”

“Oh gods,” Jimmy says, cringing, hearing the others agree as he turns back to the Siren. 

This.. this is worrying.

~

Mumbo climbs to the roof slowly with a blanket in his hands. He decided to leave the mat behind, he doesn’t mind sleeping on the wood, it’s fine, and as he pops up on the roof with nothing but a blanket and his belt with little pouches, his mind for a bit racing back to his backpack that he takes everywhere. Was it a good idea leaving it behind, even if he’s just on the roof? He’s not far.. He can get it if it will be needed. 

“Hi..” He whispers, standing at the edge where he climbed, looking back at Scott, his eyes gleaming red thanks to the blood moon.

Scott glances at the Vampire, ear flicking as if in greeting as they tilt their head slightly, clearly a bit curious of Mumbo’s presence with them– expectantly, however, they don’t speak on the emotion. They just watch Mumbo with their one eye. Always watching, always paying attention. The slit pupil of their eye is now a very similar red to Mumbo’s irises, strangely enough.

It surprises Mumbo that he doesn’t flinch, noticing that red in Scott’s eye. It’s fine. He’s fine.

“Can I– sleep here tonight?” They ask awkwardly, for a second tilting their head to the blood moon, as if giving the reason why. It’s probably a stupid question, this is a roof, anyone can sleep here, especially one of the group that rents this hut, but.. It feels wrong not to ask.

Scott blinks, almost sluggishly, head tilting slightly more. They look up at the moon, something unreadable in their eye, before they finally turn back to the Vampire and simply nod. They then look down at the mat they’re sitting on the edge of, glancing between it and Mumbo as if internally debating something, while their ears flick and swivel with the wind.

“Thank you,” Mumbo says, his voice shaking, as he moves away from the edge, getting closer to the center. He sits down just a few steps away from Scott, immediately throwing his blanket on and leaning back, as he slowly lays down, looking up at the sky, fingers intertwined on his chest. He breathes in heavily, closing his eyes for a second, focusing on the wind around them, and the shuffle of the leaves. Somehow this calms down his nerves, despite the red still seeping in through his closed eyelids. 

Scott watches all of this with that same curious eye, a bit perplexed by the Vampire. It can’t understand why they are  willing to get so close. Are they not closest to the Siren it bit today? Are they not angry? They.. They look sad. Scott almost wishes it could comfort them, but words haven’t.. been easy. It’s been harder to speak every day, and after biting the Siren, speech became near-impossible. It still tastes blood on its tongue. It really hates the taste of blood. It almost asked the Sunbird for water, but.. it isn’t allowed. It was bad today, worse than usual, so it must be deprived of necessities for a time. 

It looks up at the sky once it realizes the Vampire is not likely to speak, staring at the red moon. A rare sight, for something like Scott. It doesn’t see the night sky for its own pleasure often, and is even less often allowed to simply.. look at it. The red moon makes its pupil red, which is strange and tints its vision with the same color, but it cannot complain. It was fed the blood of a Vampire for its own sake, despite its hatred of the taste. Supposedly.

…Why does it keep thinking like this? It is being childish.

Scott is caught off guard, when after a few minutes of silence, Mumbo once again opens his eyes, looking up at the sky as he whispers, “I’m sorry.” He fidgets slightly with his hands, scratching his fingers, his skin and everything below it feeling itchy, as his fingers start to redden. “For Martyn, I mean.. Acho told us what he said, he’s.. I’m not gonna say that he’s not an asshole, it’s his thing most of the time, but.. doesn’t mean you deserve it. No one deserves this. He’s just a bit of a.. trouble to deal with.”

Scott is immediately confused. The Vampire is.. apologizing. For the Siren? For his words. That.. makes no sense. That makes no sense. Why does nothing make sense anymore?

Its arms twitch in the rope, a frustrated little grunting noise escaping its gritted teeth against its will. Dammit. It can’t speak, of course its throat chooses the most inconvenient time to refuse its primary function. Now with its restraints it can’t communicate the absurdity of this at all.  

Scott huffs, claws flexing in more idle frustration, a motion it doesn’t notice. It’s so lost, and confused, dare it say infuriated. Nothing makes sense. The Siren is the only one that makes any sense.  

Mumbo looks back at Scott, hearing the little grunt. He sees the obvious struggle on their face and the twitch in their hands, which makes him nauseous. But he also notices something familiar in their eyes, that other people tend to point out in Mumbo’s. “You don’t have to talk, or be upset because you can’t,” he starts, slowly sitting up. “I– Do you want me to.. take it off?” He asks hesitantly, tilting his eyes down to the rope, before they dash back to the edge where he climbed from. “I don’t think we will have any company, at least not at night.. I can take it off, nobody needs to know.”

Scott goes stiff again, attention back on Mumbo with a one-eyed squint dripping with suspicion. Why? Why do these people continue to make less and less sense? What logic is there in untying it? Just to communicate? It shouldn’t be allowed to communicate, it should be punished for what it did. It works its jaw for a moment, tongue too dry and throat too uncooperative. Finally, it gives a small, hesitant nod, forcing its claws to cease their stupid fidgeting so it doesn’t frighten the Vampire any further.

Mumbo doesn’t know why he’s doing it. He knows that if the others find out, he might be in at least some sort of trouble, but his biggest worry is Martyn. How will his boyfriend react if he finds out about Mumbo untying them? He knows that Martyn is very anxious right now, probably sitting at the door, ready to bounce the second he hears a scream or any sign of a struggle, but still.. 

Something drives them forward, as they stand up and move closer to Scott, crouching down in front of them. Making sure that Scott isn’t going back or getting scared, Mumbo reaches for the rope slowly, and starts untying it. It would probably be easier if they just cut it with their claws, they know their nails are sharp enough to cut the restraints with little struggle, but they don’t want to leave anything behind that will tell the others about what happened, so they sit in silence, slowly but surely taking the rope off.

“Here,” he whispers, as soon as the rope is loosened enough for Scott to just slide their hands out. “Gonna have to.. put it back in the morning, but for now, I hope this is better.”

Scott hesitates, dragging a claw idly over their arm where the rope was previously, before signing a simple, ‘THANK YOU.’ Then, with very little further pause, they flop onto their back with a soft grunt followed by a shaky sigh, as their back softly pops several times and their legs twitch in that tell-tale sign of almost-painful tingles, blood flow finally returning after long term numbness. They’ve clearly been sitting in that crossed-legged position for far too long.

Right. Grian was teaching them sign language. “No need,” Mumbo answers softly, turning around to also flop down on his back, to Scott’s left. He remembers the blanket that he left behind before moving here, but at this point he doesn’t bother to stand up and go back to it, as he settles down, his head on the end of the mat. And so he continues staring up at the sky, counting all the visible stars around the moon, trying to ignore the obvious red tint. 

Scott just stares up at the sky for a bit, letting its body recalibrate. It can technically communicate now. Should it? The Sunb– Grian has been telling it to speak its mind more. That it’s allowed. But that’s when he’s up here, Scott hasn’t had experience with the Vampire beside it now.

With a small breath, a mockery of trying to steady itself, and unsure if the Vampire will even catch what it’s signing while not looking at it, it slowly signs to the best of its ability. ‘MOST YOU C-O-N-F-U-S-E ME.’

Fortunately, the blood moon brings not just the red eyes. It makes Mumbo’s already sharpened senses better, which is why they immediately catch the movement by their side, as they look to see what’s going on. They catch everything after the letter N, quickly putting together what Scott is trying to say.

“Ah.. confused,” he repeats, moving his hands up to his face and slightly circling them, showing them a new sign. “Why do we confuse you?” He asks, tilting his head, his hands back on his chest.

‘N-I-C-E,’ Scott slowly spells, still staring dazedly at the moon. ‘I HURT ALL YOU. BAD. I DO BAD THING. STILL N-I-C-E.’ Another pause, as their eyebrows furrow slightly. ‘ONLY S-I-R-E-N MAKE SENSE.’

“It’s because you’re used to people treating you like Martyn does,” Mumbo hums with clear understanding. “Sometimes it’s hard to understand others, when in your whole life you’ve known something completely opposite. We.. we aren’t nice–” They put their thumb under their right cheek, and follow the jawline to the left. They don’t mind that Scott isn’t watching, their hands seem to be moving on instinct. “We hurt people too.. Sometimes, you can’t help but hurt them, but there’s always an explanation, you know? It’s not always an excuse.. But if an explanation is good enough, I think we can find forgiveness in our hearts and give another chance or two. Did you.. want to hurt us?”

Scott doesn’t sign anything for.. a while. Yes. No. Did it? It was following orders.. It wants to follow orders, right? It has to. Is there a difference? How is it meant to know what it wants? It’s never been allowed to have a want, so does that mean it didn’t want to hurt them? But it had to, it has to follow orders– but even then, it isn’t following orders now. It should have killed the Sunbird in that forest. It should have ripped the Demon’s head from her shoulders, should have slit the Sparrow’s throat. It should be killing this Vampire, should have done so the moment it was untied. It hasn’t. Why?

…It doesn’t want to. Again, that’s what the Sunbird said. What.. Grian said. It doesn’t want to hurt them, because it doesn’t want to go back to its cell. It is not meant to have desires, so by default, it should not want. Yet it wants… it wants..?  

‘CONFUSED,’ it copies Mumbo’s sign from before, right in the middle of its thoughts, mind continuing to race. Instead of once though, as it stares at the sky, it signs it again. And again. And again. Its hand shakes and it signs that one word over and over and over, thinking thinking thinking, it’s so confused–  

Mumbo is surprised that Scott saw the sign, but he doesn’t complain. He frowns, watching the other repeat the same sign, and waits for a second, hoping that Scott just needs a minute to connect their thoughts; but when the signs don’t stop, he turns on his side, softly laying his hand on top of Scott’s left, catching at least one of his hands in a tight grip. 

“It’s okay,” he hums, looking back at them sadly. “You just.. need some time, and then you’ll start to slowly understand. With us around, it will help you. If you don’t know what you want right now, don’t dwell on it, okay? Take your time.”

Scott finally turns their head to look at Mumbo, hand still trembling in his grip and eye slightly wide. They swallow, looking at the hand looped around their wrist, ear flicking. Their claws twitch, their jaw clenches and unclenches rhythmically, and they stare.

Don’t bite. He is being nice. Don’t bite. Be a good boy. Be a good Dog. Don’t bite no biting no biting no no no no– 

Mumbo winces, noticing something change in their eye, and then feeling their claws twitch under his own, so he quickly moves his hand away, laying on his back again. “Sorry.. Should have asked permission or found another way to help. I’m usually on the receiving end a lot, but still very bad at comfort myself..”

‘IT FINE,’ Scott signs, almost hasty in their response. Then, finally looping back to the question they were asked, they once again put together as coherent a series of signs as they can. ‘I DON’T-KNOW WHAT I WANT. I AM NOT A-L-L-O-W-E-D WANT. I NOT THINK I WANT HURT. DON’T-KNOW.’ There’s that furrow between their eyebrows again, staring down at the wooden shingles underneath them. This time they repeat that ‘DON’T-KNOW’ sign a few times, chewing at the inside of their cheek.

“You weren’t allowed to want,” Mumbo corrects them. “You’re not there anymore, Scott. I know it’s hard right now, but with time.. You will learn how to want something, and when you do, we will be there to help with all of your wants. We can give you a specific food if you like it and you want it, or we can go shopping together one day, and we’ll get you anything you want. It will just.. take some time.”

‘YOU ARE ALLOWED–’ He puts his hands in a fist upfront, and then putting out his pointer fingers, waves them up and down. ‘TO WANT.’

Scott watches the signing intently, still visibly frustrated. Then they curl into themself just a bit, shakily signing, ‘S-I-R-E-N OKAY?’  

“Yeah..” Mumbo whispers, followed by a sign. “I promise, most of us had it worse than some.. bite marks,” they say, wincing, as their hands under the gloves ache. “He took it too far and you reacted accordingly, it’s fine. And I talked to him a bit, so.. I can’t promise he won’t pull a similar stunt ever again, but he will at least hesitate before saying something from now on.”

‘SHOULD NOT HAVE B-I-T HIM,’ Scott signs shakily as if protesting, practically glaring at the roof now. ‘BAD. SHOULD NOT BE SO A-N-G-R-Y EASY. I KNOW BETTER. T-R-A-I-N-E-D BETTER.’  

Mumbo sighs heavily, sitting up. “I mean.. He’s my boyfriend, Scott, and even I acknowledge that what he said was shitty. I meant it when I said you reacted accordingly. As much as I love him, when people treat you like that, you’re bound to get angry. He might have his own reasons– explanations, not excuses– but I can still point out when he does something wrong. He was wrong in this situation, so you don’t have to feel bad for your reaction. It was a normal human reaction anyone would have.”

‘NOT H-U-M-A-N,’ Scott signs without even thinking about it. The Sunbird made the same mistake. Yet another thing only the Siren seems to understand, it’s so strange. ‘D-O-G.’

“Why do you think that exactly?” Mumbo asks, tilting his head and hugging his knees to his chest. “I know they called you that, but is that the only reason?”

Scott blinks, eyebrows furrowing slightly for a third time. ‘WHAT OTHER R-E-A-S-O-N I NEED?’

“I mean..” The Vampire frowns, staring at Scott for a second. “You know that I’m a Vampire, right? And that Grian is an Avian?”

Scott blinks again, nodding slowly. Of course it knows, where is he.. going with this?

“Grian has wings and his talons, and he has his instincts,” he says, pointing a finger. “I know from the Avians that it’s the most important thing, because instincts kick in a lot, and usually affect how they react to things. They were born like it and have those instincts within. Dogs.. Well, the way you use the word dog , it doesn’t seem to be talking about a hybrid, do you? No, you mean a literal dog, because that’s how they treat you.”

He crosses his legs, moving his hands up and laying them on his head. “Dog hybrids mostly have features of a dog. Like ears, or some even a snout. Maybe paws sometimes, it tends to be different. And like Avians, they also have those instincts deep within them that came naturally to them. You are not a dog hybrid, and you are not a dog. First of all, you’re too big for a dog, and have zero features of it, and second of all, you look like a human. You’re not an animal.” He moves his hands back to his knees. 

Scott stares at Mumbo, not quite blank. They.. seem to be registering his words, at the very least. They still seem a little confused, a little frustrated, and they rub idly at their clothed left bicep with a near-unreadable expression. Finally, they slowly sign, ‘I WAS A-V-I-A-N. I H-U-M-A-N NOW?’  

Mumbo shakes their head, “You’re part Human, and part Avian. The instincts, remember? You.. you might not look the same as other avians, but you have instincts of an avian, and they are very important. Grian.. Grian said you chirped, and it made him very happy. Because it’s your Avian speaking, it’s good, because when you do that, your true self isn’t hiding behind a label that they gave you.”

Scott just looks incredibly confused again, squinting at the Vampire and shakily signing, ‘G-R-I-A-N HAVE WINGS AND T-A-L-O-N-S. I DO NOT. WHY STILL A-V-I-A-N? MY S-O-U-N-D-S… BAD. NOT BAD? CONFUSED.’

“Well, as I said, some don’t have the same features,” he tries to explain it, slightly grimacing. “Ah… Oh! For example, Grian has both wings and talons, but Jimmy or Owen don’t! They both have only wings. O-or– Grian and Jimmy both have much smaller wings behind their ears, but Owen doesn’t. That’s the difference between them. And you.. Well.. you had wings. It’s already enough. If..” He shudders slightly, but still forces out those words. “If Jimmy or Owen.. lost their wings like you did… it wouldn’t change the fact that they are still Avians. The same goes for you.”

Scott looks down at the roof again, finally completely curling up into a ball, hugging their knees all the way up to their nose. They look so lost. ‘I AM… A-V-I-A-N. NO WINGS BUT STILL A-V-I-A-N. MY S-O-U-N-D-S… GOOD?’ They sign, looking back up at the Vampire with such innocent confusion that, for a split second, they look like nothing more than a perplexed child. Eyepatch, blood red pupil, frostbitten claws and all.

“Yeah..” Mumbo whispers, smiling at them sadly. “They are good.” 

He can feel his chest clench, as his breath comes out shaky, the winds suddenly feeling too hard on his skin. 

It’s.. not similar, he says to himself. Scott is cut off from who they are, and now they can finally accept it and learn how to love themself as they are. It’ll take a long while, but it’s possible. Mumbo… was forced into who he is. Sometimes he feels like he’s finally good with it, that he finally accepted himself, and then moments like this.. Sometimes it makes him wonder how different it would have been, if he survived that night without being turned. If he was still full human, like he should have been.

Scott is back to staring with that unreadable expression, knees still held up tight and eye scanning the Vampire’s expression, looking surprisingly intelligent for all the confusion they’ve been displaying for the last several minutes. There are gears turning in their head, watching the shifts of Mumbo’s face.

Then, in a move that they couldn’t possibly explain, as if driven by instinct and muscle memory, Scott brings up their hand and lightly pokes Mumbo’s nose with their pointer finger.

The very tip of it.

They literally boop him.

It takes Mumbo a few seconds to properly process what just happened, but as soon as he does, he puts his lips in a thin line, very obviously trying to stop himself from laughing. 

Unfortunately, he’s very weak to stuff like this, so a few giggles manage to escape, as he covers his mouth with his hand. “Sorry– I didn’t expect you to do that, I– Thank you, I was spiraling a little bit. That was nice of you, Scott,” he says with a chuckle, finally smiling in full teeth back at the avian, his fangs rarely so bare. 

Scott blinks, eye going just the slightest bit wide– and dare Mumbo say sparkly– before they return the beaming smile with a tiny shy one of their own. Then they shrug, finally uncurling and twisting over so they’re laying on their back again, staring up at the starry sky. 

Mumbo huffs softly, laying down by Scott’s side. He was just about to spiral into another episode of self-hatred, and yet, now even looking up at the familiar red moon, he felt cheerful.

“Goodnight, Scott,” he whispers with a heavy inhale, as he finally closes his eyes, ready to fall asleep, his blanket long forgotten. 

Scott hums the softest little noise, unsure how to respond. Mumbo’s eyes are closed so they can’t sign, they still can’t speak… Grian recognized Morse, didn’t he..? Maybe…

Drag drag tap. Drag drag drag. Drag drag drag. Drag tap tap. Drag tap. Tap tap. Drag drag tap. Tap tap tap tap. Drag. 

A much longer pause, almost like hesitation. Then…

Tap tap tap. Tap drag. Tap tap drag tap. Tap.

Goodnight. Safe.  

Mumbo chuckles softly, letting Scott know that he heard it, but it makes him wonder if Scott is telling him that he’s safe here, or if Mumbo is safe for Scott. 

Either way, he’s grateful.

---

Chirp!

“Stop it, Xor…” 

“C’moonnn!” Xornoth whines, shaking their twin by the shoulders. “Just one! Nobody’s here, chirp with me!”

“I can’t,” Alinar groans, prying Xornoth’s hands from his arms. “Not allowed.”

“There’s no doctors here to scold you though! A-and none of the other kids are here to tattle!” Xornoth insists. Chirp-chirp!

“Stop.”

“No!” Xornoth growls, grabbing Alinar’s wrist in a death grip. “C’mon.. you love singing with me, Ali, please?”

“It’s not allowed, ” Alinar hisses, yanking his arm from his twin’s claws. “You can sing all you want, but I’m not Avian anymore. Only avians make those sounds.”

Xornoth groans again. Loudly. “Ev still makes sounds..”

“Ev made sounds,” Alinar counters, hugging his knees to his chest. “Ev isn’t here anymore. Because of that. So stop. ”

“I’ll tell False,” Xornoth challenges, crossing his arms.

“False stopped scaring me ages ago, try again.”

“..I’ll tell Gemini?”

“Gem’s my friend. She doesn’t scare me either.”

“Uhh.. I’ll tell Doc!”

“Doc almost got fired ‘cause of me. I doubt he’ll care.”

“He did not!”

“Did so.”

“Didn’t!”

“Did.”

“Agh!” Xornoth snarls, burying his face in his hands, before sighing heavily. “Why’re you so stubborn…”

“Gotta be,” Alinar hums with a shrug.

Xornoth sighs again, rubbing at his face before lowering his arms back to his lap. Blood drips from his lips. “Grian and Mumbo have told you the sounds are okay now. What’s it gonna take for you to believe it?”

Scott hums again, staring resolutely at the floor, ignoring the slowly bloodying image of its dead brother. “They.. don’t ğ̴̼̆ẹ̴͙͓̞̖̘̚t̸̯̹̰̣͋̈̋ ̶͙͈̟̈́̇i̵͎̥̫̅͛̾̓ť̴̯̦̖̜…”

“I think they do,” Xornoth argues, gentle, always so gentle, even in its head. “I think they get it a little too much, and that scares you.”

“Ỹ̶͇̟̑̆͝͝o̶̻͎̔̔ṷ̴̜͉̖̳̎̐̌̉͜ ̸̬̣̈́à̵͉̪̟̬̿̄͑̑͝r̵͕̀̂́̎͊ĕ̷̱̜͜ṅ̸̲̲̣̼'̴͎̀̌t̷̡̟̲̞́̔̇̕ ̸͈̪̄͛͋r̸̥̰̰̓̅̎̊̾̕e̵̡̧̨̫͓̥͛̇ǎ̵̝̰̜͙͖̗̓͐̈́l̵̳̳̠̝͚̓̎͜͠,̴̢̳͓͉̫̉” Scott whispers, resting its chin on its knees. “W̵̙̗̣͍̪̐͂̍̕ḥ̸̨̨̡̺́͋̐̚͠y̷̖̲̯͠ ̷̫̣̫̯̈́a̷̢̩̻͂r̸͉̳̗̘͝ḛ̷̳̗̈́̔̕͠ ̸̢̛̫̝̝̎́͜y̷̙͕̟̩̍̐o̵̫̫̖̘͎̎̏̏͝ű̴̬͚̪̯͝ ̴̛̞̆͛̑ḧ̸̲́̅͛͆̿e̴̞͎̩̋̈́́ȑ̶̨͕̩͓͝ͅę̵̢̢̱̩̌̉̎?̴̩̓͐̚̕͝ ̴̢̰̦̎̿̒͑ͅW̵̨͖͚̝͒ͅh̶͍̮̊̊̀͠y̴̠̓̊͆̑ ̷̢̠͙̺͍̔d̴͍̩̳̠̮̅̍͋͋o̷̟̙̦̦̊̋n̶̛̪̦̗'̴̳͆̀t̵͍̗̬̱͕̔͒ ̸͙̬̾̄̾ỷ̵̧͈̟̀ỏ̵͉͙̲̜̘ư̵̢͊̀̓ ̶͓̿̉͗̆͠ļ̶̺̲̼̒e̶̳͖͚̓̆͑̽ȁ̵͙͆̓̂v̸͕̟̘͌̄͗͠ȩ̸̘̜̬̓̕ͅ ̸͖̪͓̃̔m̴̯̓̏̕e̶̯̳͙̔ ̴͙̮̞̬͑͑̂͜ą̷͔̳͖̐́l̴̘͓̣̔̽ọ̶̡̪͂̑͆̾ņ̵͔̜̣͆́̃̐͝e̷͈̣͎̽̈́͑̕͜?̷̢͍̮̬͘͠ͅ”

“It’s Red Saturday, l̴̗͎͌î̵̡̕ṫ̴͍͠t̷̹̎l̴̲̖͒e̸̳̒̂ ̷̛̝͝b̷̲̰͗̕r̵̨͇̍̓ó̵̬t̴̡̜̀ḧ̵͇́̑e̸̺͆̊ṟ̴͚̋͗.̷̩̠̾̚” Xornoth hums with a gargling little chuckle. “F̸̻̊å̷̗m̸̧͓̄i̵̧̹͐̔l̶̳͚̒y̴̪͔̐ ̵̲̱̋d̷̰͝͝a̸̟̋̋y̷̹͚̋̍.̴͈́͘ ̴̭̂'̴̤̈́C̶̢̪͊͠o̴̰͠͝u̴̲͋r̶͉͌s̷̟͚̆e̴̩͆͠ ̴̣͊͘I̶̐͝ͅ'̴̯̣̾m̷̟͂͆ ̵̺͆̀h̸̺̊̇e̶̝͒r̸̞̩̄ȇ̶̼̎.̶̘̑”

 

Scott blinks awake with just the slightest catch to its breath, staring at the purple and orange sky. The sun is rising. Scott turns its head, seeing the Vampire still at its left, sleeping peacefully.

It could kill him. Easily. Without even a sound.

Instead, it watches them sleep for a while. They look more at ease than they’ve looked in the recent days Scott has observed them, stress lines smoothed and features completely relaxed. Strange, how the Vampire can be at such ease right next to it. Something that’s hurt them, hurt those they care for.

…It should be tied up. The Siren will lash out again if it remains untied, so it reaches forward, and gently pokes the Vampire’s nose. That made him laugh before. In Scott’s experience, waking to laughter is.. preferable. Certainly better than whatever it just experienced itself. Fuzzy memories and that heliotrope-eyed hallucination are always so bothersome.  

Mumbo scowls in his sleep, scrunching his nose, before he slowly opens his eyes. He immediately averts his eyes to the side, avoiding the sunlight, as tries to get used to the light, blinking and yawning. “Wha–?” He whispers, his gaze slowly focusing on the figure in front of him. 

He stays quiet for a second, before he snorts weakly. “Did you boop me again? Good morning.”

‘GOOD MORNING,’ Scott signs, slowly sitting up and grabbing the length of rope from their other side. They stare at it for a second, before extending it toward Mumbo, hand shaking just slightly as they tilt their head. Their foot is tapping again as well. Safe. Safe. Safe. Safe.

Mumbo’s smile drops, his eyes on the rope. He can hear the tapping, he can see the shaking, and it’s just.. so cruel. Mumbo is a very nervous person by nature, it’s hard to be calm and collected when your whole childhood was a mess, every corner another drama consuming you whole. He got used to being nervous, to being paranoid, because good things don’t last long. He had a family with Vampires, and yet he lost them just a few months later. He had a family with his dad and papa, and yet he was taken away, and he hasn’t seen them for years now. Sometimes he thinks that everything is bound to be lost, forgotten. 

This moment they had today was calm, and he thinks it helped Scott in some sense. He can feel the anxiety of this moment ending, that maybe just like Martyn said, Scott is gonna attack him when they can, but they didn’t. He was here the whole night, and they didn’t do it, instead waking him up with a boop. 

Maybe that’s why, for a second, he buries all his worries under the sand. As he sits up, he takes the rope from Scott, and instead of tying it around them, he slowly starts tying one end around their right wrist. “Today is Red Saturday, you know? You.. probably don’t. It’s a.. family thing,” he hums slowly, as he finishes with a knot. “No one is supposed to be alone on this day, that’s why everything is closed for this day, so people can have time with their friends and family. Not a single quest or work today, just people… having fun.”

He ignores the stare, and the tremble, as he reaches for the other end of the rope and starts tying it around his left wrist. “Can’t leave you here alone, can I? Maybe.. You’d like going around, I think. Checking up on everyone, being around. Maybe we can start with this want,” he says, looking back at Scott with a gentle smile, once the rope is secure around his hand.

Scott blinks, looking down at their connected wrists and back up at Mumbo’s face, clearly confused but.. there almost seems to be a little mist to their eye. They chew on their inner cheek again, their free hand moving up to rub at the big star logo on their armored chest, eyebrows furrowed.

With a hum, they use their free hand to slowly and meticulously pull off the thicker long sleeved overshirt, tearing through the right sleeve with a claw to free it without having to untie them again. They’re left in a sleeveless black top, exposing a few old scars along their arms from blades or arrows. The only evidence of their STARR.. ownership is the tattoo on their left bicep. A black star matching the labs’ logo, with a serial number inked right under it– #061221. They stare down at it, visibly frustrated again.

Mumbo does his best not to give any unwanted attention to the tattoo, but he does notice the familiar frustration, as he slowly stands. The rope connecting them is at least two meters. It was the only one long enough that could tie up a person. “They have markets open tomorrow. Just for two hours in the morning, before it closes down for the holiday, we can get you new clothes, if you want?” He tilts his head, cringing slightly, trying to word his thoughts without sounding offensive. He understands this kind of issue. “I can talk to the others and… get you some time alone in our bathroom. It would probably feel nicer to put on new clothes after a nice bath.”

Scott just blinks, staring uncomprehendingly at the Vampire for a moment. There it is again. Being nice. Somehow it still makes no sense, but Scott gives a slow nod anyway, carefully rising to its feet so the rope doesn’t pull taut. This is.. so strange, but if it’s what the Vampire wants… 

“Martyn is gonna be mad at me,” Mumbo whispers to himself as soon as he turns around toward the edge with the familiar rock below. He slowly guides Scott toward it, jumping down to the rock and then to the ground, looking up at them and making sure that rope is long enough. Yes, it reaches to the roof, good. “Come on, I think we have some food left, or we can get something around. I’m sure the little shops are still open until twelve.” As he was told yesterday, the tavern was sadly closed, but.. Tekla did invite them over, saying that tavern owners tend to cook inside on the holidays with their families. He wonders how many of the workers she invited, if she invited them at all, because something tells him that it was just to Mumbo and Acho because of their.. current situation.

Scott hops down from the roof right after Mumbo, keeping their right hand covering their tattoo as they descend and walk beside the Vampire. They seem hesitant to get too close, simply remaining close enough for the rope to dangle loosely between the two of them but far enough to keep it from dragging on the ground. They look out at the street, ears flicking back at the already growing noise of morning.

Mumbo stands in front of the door for a second, breathing in and out, as he tries to collect himself before entering. He knows this is a very risky gamble, he knows Martyn will have problems with this, but he truly can’t leave Scott there. Not this day. 

Maybe it’s his selfishness, seeing some parts of himself in them, or maybe it’s a desire to have someone else close to him that understands.

Scott was Avian, and yet they have Vampire blood. 

Mumbo was human, but he hasn’t been one for a long time. 

They were forced into this, and maybe that’s why he grips the rope tighter and slightly opens the door to the hut.

Before he can say anything or give the group a warning about Scott, he hears a quick footstep and almost loses balance, as he is instantly tugged into an embrace, Martyn burying his face in his chest. “M’rning..” The Siren mumbles, his voice oh so tired, so quiet.

“Morning, love,” Mumbo whispers back, raising his free hand to place it on Martyn’s hair, planting a kiss on top of his head. “I’m here like promised. Just.. don’t… don’t panic, okay?”

“What?” The Siren asks, leaning away, and his gaze immediately falls on the rope around his boyfriend's wrist. He knows who’s on the other side before his eyes follow the rope to another figure, and he feels like choking, as he fights off a wheeze, seeing Scott standing behind Mumbo. “What the hell?” He asks, taking a step back so the others can see what’s going on. What.. What was Mumbo thinking?!

Scott blinks, taking the tiniest step away from Mumbo and looking to the side, hand slowly rubbing at their arm where it’s still held up to cover their tattoo. Their ear twitches, hearing questioning and sleepy groans from inside.

Scott kind of feels like sinking into the ground and never coming out. Why is it here again? It can see a bandage around the Siren’s hand, the one Scott bit so harshly, and it really really wants to disappear.

Ő̶͓͘h̷̭̮̎̈́ ̷̳̄̃ẁ̶̩̈́ǫ̶͇̓w̴̮̐,̶̭̌͋ ̴̝̄̈́i̶̲̹̓͠ţ̷͖̎'̷̩͔́̑ș̸̓ͅ ̴̭͊b̶̯̌͝e̷͙̅̈́e̸̜͌n̵̝͐ ̵͉̞̈̚a̵̟̽ ̶̧͚̽̽w̵̺̭̕ȟ̵̯ĭ̶͕̊l̸̛̝̤ȩ̸͈̏͝ ̸̨̻̌š̷̬͕̔ǐ̵̎͜n̸͓͉͛̇ć̸̺̳͝e̴̫͗̆ ̵̤̓͒y̵͚̜̐ȍ̵̞u̸̙͉̍'̷̮̒v̷̟͊͆ë̶̻ ̶̚̚ͅe̵̥̱̓ẋ̵̫͌p̷͎̿e̶̺͕̅r̵̙̽ī̶̱̕ę̷̛͈͗n̴̖̽̐c̵̲̩̎ẽ̶̝̿d̴̻̼͋̑ ̷͉̈̋a̴̟͇͆̍n̶̘̓̄͜x̷̢̭̌̆i̶̝̓͌ͅẻ̸͖̜͝ţ̶̆ỳ̵̖͖.̷͕̳̊ ̸̣͋̄L̸͓̎̒ő̵̻̼̍o̴̝̽͐k̶͇̄̌ ̴̯̮̀a̵̻͌ṭ̶̔͜ ̵͕̓y̷͔͊͆ỏ̵̩̲́u̷̹̓ ̵͓̞̈́͝w̵̡͋̅i̵̘͊t̵̠̂̈́h̴̹̎ ̴͉͉̿̀t̴̹̭̊̾h̴͙͂͝e̶̱͝ ̸̛͙̈́e̷̝͔͝m̵̮̄͝o̸͕̓t̶̼̳̎̚i̴͍͓͗̃ó̶̮̗͛n̴̫̓s̴͉̱̕!̴͈̩̓̀

Shut up, it thinks back to the disembodied voice, fighting to keep its face neutral and its shoulders from hunching. It’s.. not sure that’s working. Why did it listen to the Vampire… Why does he insist on being so foolishly nice?  

“I– It’s Red Saturday, Martyn…” Mumbo whispers, as if it’s an actual explanation of why Scott is here.

“Yeah, a family day,” Martyn hisses, glaring at Scott behind him. “We were gonna spend some time together, and then go to the tavern to make dinner together, it was not included in our plans. This is supposed to be our family time.”

“Martyn..” Grian groans in the background, finally taking a few steps toward the trio in the doorway.

“Yeah, but Scott doesn’t have their family here, now do they?” Mumbo asks with a frown, his eyes becoming sadder every second. 

Martyn wants to fight against this, but looking his boyfriend in his eyes, he is reminded how much family matters to Mumbo, just like it matters to him. But while Martyn is only focused on his, the idea of someone else spending the family day alone always messed Mumbo up. Of course they would drag Scott down. “Fine..” The Siren hisses through gritted teeth and turns around, sitting back on his mat. 

Mumbo sighs with relief, glad that Martyn gave up, and takes a step to the side, inviting Scott inside. “You alright?” He whispers, tilting his head. “Don’t mind him please, he’s a jerk sometimes.” Martyn in the background just scoffs, but doesn’t protest.

Scott just.. stares. That seems to be all they can do, so incredibly confused and so incredibly lost. They blink, glancing at Martyn for a moment, looking back at Mumbo. Their hand squeezes their own bicep, claws digging in, and they don’t move. Another glance at Martyn, back to Mumbo. They do not move. Another glance in and back, ears now nearly pinned to their hair, feet seemingly glued to the ground. They’re.. nervous. 

“Just come in, Scott,” Martyn says with a grumble, staring at the center of the room.

Well, that’s progress, Mumbo thinks, blinking back at the Siren, before he turns back to Scott. “Don’t be nervous,” he adds much softer than Martyn. “It’s gonna be fine.”

Scott takes a breath, finally shuffling just inside the door, barely closer to Mumbo. Their eye darts around the group, all either still asleep or squinting up from their mats, trying to comprehend the sight of Scott inside the damn hut. They shuffle just slightly more, but don't move further, clearly uncomfortable taking the lead here. Their hand is still occupied with their own arm, the skin under their fingers somehow paling more with the grip they have on their bicep.

“Come on,” Mumbo whispers, slowly guiding Scott through the mats around the floor, toward the door on the end that leads to the bathroom. For a second his and Grian’s eyes meet, and the Sunbird nods at him with a gentle smile, grateful for the Vampire’s help. 

As soon as he’s inside, he turns on the light and then the water, reaching for the empty glass on the sink, starting to fill it with water. Once that’s done, he turns back to Scott, handing it to him. “I don’t remember when we brought you water last, so.. Thought you might want this.”

Scott blinks, finally moving their hand away from their tattoo to gingerly take the glass from Mumbo. They swirl the water around a bit, staring at it with a slight furrow to their brows yet again, before finally moving the glass up to take a sip. A trembling inhale immediately escapes their nose, and they drink much faster after that, their body apparently finally catching up to their dehydration. 

Mumbo winces at that with a frown. Gods, how long ago did they give Scott some water? Are they even helping them at this point? Keeping them tied up with very limited access to food, water, and bathroom. He knows they are taking it slow, but.. He shakes away his thoughts and reaches to the shelf above the sink, which has different hygiene products, many toothbrushes included. He finds his one, taking it, and then his eyes search for something he knows they have. And yep, here they are, two extra toothbrushes they were keeping just in case. He takes one of them too, taking the plastic off.

Scott watches all of this very curiously, clearly still confused but also intrigued. They’ve already drained the glass of water by the time Mumbo turns back around, shifting slightly on their feet and staring at the toothbrush in his hand. Still confused. Still lost. Oh boy.  

“Do you want more water?” Mumbo asks,  tilting his head and pointing one of the toothbrushes in his hand toward the glass in Scott’s hand. “You can drink more, if you want.”

Scott blinks, looking down at the glass. Then they nod, almost sheepish. Or shy, maybe? They glance at the sink, at the glass, at Mumbo– trying to parse if they can fill it themself. If they’re allowed. Then, apparently seeing.. whatever they need to see, they shuffle to the sink and refill the glass, taking much smaller sips of the water this time while leaning heavily against the wall.

“Good, good,” Mumbo hums, nodding his head. “If you ever want water, just tell one of us, okay? You can say it or sign it, whichever one you prefer, we will always give it to you if you can’t access it yourself.” He then reaches for the toothpaste, extending the new blue toothbrush toward Scott. “I’m gonna brush my teeth, you can brush yours with me if you want. It’s okay if you don’t want to right now, but if you do.. We have a strawberry paste? One of the others got it because it tastes better than mint, so..”

Scott hums, finishing the water and gently setting the glass aside, before slowly taking the toothbrush from Mumbo. They stare at it for a second, then sniff at it, nose scrunching slightly in clear confusion.

D̷͎̂̈́o̵̙̯͋ ̷̨̮̌ṅ̷̝̾ó̴̧͠r̴̗̆͠m̴̤͙̉̆a̷͛ͅl̸͇̘̿͌ ̷̛̰͠p̷͇̲͊́e̸̲̲͛ó̴̟̒ͅp̵̜͚̌͋ḽ̸̊̐e̸̩͕̕'̶̪̫͌͘ṡ̴̝ ̸̱̫̓t̶͚̼̅̾ë̷̡̨ẻ̶̬ͅt̸͚́̒h̵̫̗̋ ̴̥̌́n̶̛͓ô̶̖̜t̶͎̾̌ ̴͇̓͛c̵͉̔́l̴̠̜̈́͑ĕ̵͚a̸͙͆̑n̸̘̈́ ̴̢̗͆ẗ̷̖̤́̈h̷̻̿e̴͍͗̄m̶̪̙͆̄s̴͉͌e̸̠͜͝l̶̲̈́̿v̷̮̥̂͒ȩ̶̨̈́s̵̫̯̚?̷̛̳͝ͅ

Guess not… Scott thinks back, glancing at the wall behind Mumbo so they’re looking– and grimacing– at the floating apparition of their brother, bloody and dead. Wonderful. Going visual today too, how lovely.

H̵̱̑̎ư̶͉h̶͈̦̔.̸̥͍͆ ̴̝̬͗̂W̴̦̞͛͘e̴̤͑͋i̴̙͇͘͝r̴̓͠ͅd̸̲͝.̷͉̊̊.̸̥̔.̸͍̎.̷̯̪̌̎.̸̲̽͂.̷̰͙̆͛ ̴͉͊H̵̝̕ë̴͖͇́̔y̵̫̘͠ ̸͉͙͐y̷͙͂ó̴̱͝ụ̷̳̒͆'̸̛̙̲̽ŗ̸̝̋è̶̺͉ ̷̳̔͘t̴̰̹̒á̶̺l̴͙͆k̴̖͕̅i̴̖͆̽͜n̵̝̔͌g̸̨̦̀ ̶͍̩̉̃t̵̡̩͊o̸̟͊ ̶͚͔́̈m̷̟̽e̴̫͠!̶͔͖̉

You’re clearly not going away anytime soon.. Might as well, if you’re gonna be a bother all day.

I̴̢͛'̷̨̐̆m̷̯̀͊ ̷͔̘̀̕ä̶̧̦́ ̴̜͐b̶̟̂r̶̻͙̉̍ơ̶̥̇t̶̤̘̓͌h̴̩̞̋ḙ̸̝̈́͛r̴̺͔̕ ̸̲͓̓a̴͉̗̔l̸̨͚̑̚l̷̰̙̈̅ ̵͍̥̾ḍ̶̎̊ͅa̷̗̒y̷̜̋́!̵͓̜͆̀

…Was that meant to be a joke..?

M̸̭̄̀a̷̗͘a̶͓̓͘y̶̖̌̚ỷ̶̨͓y̸̯̌b̶̲̾̑ȇ̴̝ê̶͍e̸̝̽.̴̢̇.̴͎̦́͛.̶͙͈͒

Gods you’ve really got their age right, don’t you?

'̴̦͆́C̷̼̿́a̸̠̐̋͜u̵̪̜͊̐s̵͇̐ẻ̶̹ ̵̖̈́̇I̶̬̦͗͠'̷̭̑͂m̸̥̟̋͝ ̷̝̿̅r̷͖̘̄e̸̬͍͒ä̷͖́̈l̶̢̈́͗,̸̢̜̌̾ ̴̢͎̚ḑ̷̏̋u̸͔͒͌m̶̬̒m̷̻̈́́y̸̥͂̕.̴̢͕̌̊

Yeah yeah, sure, whatever you say.

Mumbo blinks at them for a second, caught off guard by Scott sniffing the toothbrush. “Ah– Scott? Do you.. know how to brush your teeth?” He asks confused, tilting his head.

Scott blinks, attention snapping back to the Vampire. Right. Pay attention to the thing that’s real in the room, jeez. ‘NO,’ it signs, frowning a bit self-consciously. Taking time out of the day for cleaning its mouth would be.. inconvenient for missions, so the doctors fixed that. It’s never.. manually cleaned its teeth. Another thing that’s apparently not normal. Oh, joy. 

“Oh!” Mumbo frowns, thinking for a second. “Well– Let me–” He takes the cap off the paste and squeezes some of it on his brush before extending it toward Scott. “Like this..”

Scott tilts their head, carefully taking the tube of toothpaste from Mumbo and copying what he did on their own toothbrush. Then they extend the tube in return, still visibly confused but watching intently.

“Great, great,” Mumbo hums, placing the paste down on the sink, and slightly turns the knob next to the faucet, lessening the water pressure. “I guess people do it their own ways, but I usually just–” he dips his brush with the paste on into the water, immediately taking it out. “It brushes better after it gets wet for me, so.. Just make sure that water doesn’t take off the paste, it happens.” He chuckles weakly. “Yeah, after that you just.. put the brush against your teeth and move up and down, and then side to side? Make sure it gets in contact with every tooth, and well.. Don’t put too much pressure with the brush, it might hurt your gums.” He then starts brushing his teeth as a demonstration. 

Scott watches for a few seconds, before awkwardly opening their mouth and copying the Vampire in slow, jerky motions. It’s clearly a bit strange to brush a full mouth of only sharp teeth, but they seem to manage, nose scrunching a bit as they very, very carefully brush their teeth– it’s obvious they’re trying valiantly to avoid mangling the bristles.

There’s a quiet sound behind them a few seconds later, as Grian pops up in the bathroom, looking at them softly. “May I join?” He asks while grinning, receiving a giggle from Mumbo, as he moves a bit closer to Scott to make room for the Sunbird on his left. Grian has to circle them to stand by Mumbo, as he reaches for his own brush and then paste on the sink. “Good morning both of you,” he says, with a nod, staring into the mirror, smiling at them just standing there squeezed in the little bathroom. 

Mumbo hums, nodding his head, as he takes out his brush and starts cleaning it under the water. Putting the clean brush back on the shelf, he puts his hands together, filling them with water, and then sips on it, swishing it in his mouth before spitting it out, and then repeating the process two more times. He licks his own fangs, satisfied with the result, and once again gathers some water to splash it on his face, rubbing his eyes. He reaches for the towel and then takes a step back, giving Scott and Grian more room.

Scott watches and copies again diligently, minus the face splashing. They seem a bit confused by that in particular, giving Mumbo an almost hilariously clear “are you nuts??” look. When they’re done, they slowly shuffle closer to the Vampire, looping the rope once around their hand again and rocking a bit awkwardly on their feet. Their jaw makes these little motions as their tongue drags over their teeth, visibly perplexed by the sensation.

Grian chuckles weakly at the two, with Mumbo raising an eyebrow at Scott. “It’s called washing your face, Scott,” he clarifies, tilting his head toward the towel. “It keeps your face clean, and your skin healthy, also usually helps you to wake up in the morning.” Then he frowns, his own confusion passing by on his face. “I don’t really understand how your skin looks so clean right now..”

Scott tilts his head, squinting suspiciously at the towel and back up at Grian. ‘SOUND LIKE WATER B-O-A-R-D-I-N-G. NO F-U-N.’ A pause. ‘CLEAN BECAUSE D-O-C-T-O-R-S.’

“I– I see..” Mumbo says with an awkward smile, even Grian slightly blinking back at Scott. “I don’t think they would be able to do something.. biological to keep you clean like this, so maybe magical? Well.. we can find out one day, but not today, once you’re ready.” Then as if his filter was completely lost yesterday, he leans against the wall and mutters, “I wish I could be clean like that all the time, Gods know– I wandered the forest for one week and looked like shit with legs.”

This immediately makes Grian choke on the paste, coughing, as he reaches for the glass, filling it with water. “Oh? We joke about that now? When did that happen?” He asks confused and visibly worried, as soon as he spits the paste out.

Mumbo just shrugs, staring toward the door of the bathroom, his thoughts running back to his conversation with Acho.

Scott seems unbothered, just a little confused, looking between the two as if trying to parse what in the Overworld they’re talking about. They don’t seem to spend mental energy on it though, eventually just staring at the wall nearest to them, a furrow once again between their brows as they slightly glare.. at the wall… 

As soon as Grian finishes, splashing his face and taking the towel from Mumbo, the Vampire turns toward the door. “Are you hungry, Scott?” He asks, leaving the bathroom and waiting for them outside right next to the door. He can see half of the group already up, whispering to each other and sending glances toward them.

Scott hums noncommittally, shrugging for good measure while their right hand once again makes its way up to cover their tattoo. They avoid the looks of everyone in the room, staring at the rope around their right wrist like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. They look awkward all over again, grimacing slightly at the floor as they shuffle behind Mumbo. 

For this moment, Mumbo decides to ignore the question about food, as his attention goes down to their hand, realizing where this discomfort mostly is coming from. No, he understands that the situation overall makes them overly uncomfortable, but..

He walks over to their cabinet. It’s mostly empty, they don’t actually have a lot of stuff to store, but some basic clothes and first aid kit was moved there for a quicker reach. A quick search inside the cabinet, and Mumbo finds a pair of crochet fingerless gloves that Scar got for him several months earlier, just right after their escape, when they first started taking quests. 

“Here,” he turns back to Scott, slowly taking their hand in his own, making sure that Scott isn’t about to flinch away, and puts one of the gloves on them, moving it up toward the tattoo. He stops right below their clinging hand, looking back at them as if asking if Scott is okay to move it away, so he can cover the tattoo properly. 

Scott swallows, looking.. almost touched by the gesture. Slowly, clearly still conscious of the many eyes on them, they lower their right hand to their side so the glove– really, it just looks like an armband like this– can cover the inked star and serial number.

T̶̲̾h̴̢͠e̴̳̾̈́y̷̻̯̕̕'̷̞̠̃̓r̴̫̝̃ȩ̵̙̄͝ ̵̻̲̊̊s̵̢̩̉͝o̴̧͍͐̄ ̷̛̭̱n̶̞͓̔i̸͉̼̅č̸̗̦e̶̛̥͗,̵̘̼͋ ̵̣̘͐̽á̵̲̘̎r̵̪̼̄e̴̥͝ń̴̳'̷̰́̄ṭ̴̨͘ ̷̖̙͠t̶͈̟̀h̷̺̉e̴̳͒͛y̵̹̳̆̃ ̶͕͂͠A̶̠̽l̵̜̂i̷͔͊?̸̪͕͑̄

…Yes. They are. I don’t understand.

T̸̙̈́h̸͈̮͗a̴͓̓t̸̲̲̀'̷̛̙s̸͇͝ ̷̞̹̔͆ô̸̧͒k̸͖͝ā̸̼̤y̸̜͠.̶̧̏ ̵̬͖͝L̵̩̍͑ḯ̴̠̰k̴̼̮͂e̵̿͐ͅ ̷͓̰̽h̸̪̍e̴͕̿̀ ̷̼̝̔̋s̸̫͝ả̵̟i̴̬̇̿ḓ̸̣͒̓,̸͖͝ ̴̨͎́̽y̵̥͐̿͜o̶̖̗͝u̶̢͚͑̕ ̴̦̿̑w̴̙̍̽i̷̬̐̕l̵̳̇l̵̼̔͝!̵̥͔͗̎

……Sure.

Mumbo hums softly, moving the glove farther up and covering the tattoo fully. After that, he lets go of their hand, taking a step back. 

“Better?” He asks with an awkward smile, while Scar giggles in the background, lifting up his head from the bed. 

“Of course! I got those gloves! I don’t get stuff that isn't good or comfortable!”

“Can confirm,” Apo responds sleepily from her mat, eyes closed. 

Scott nods slowly, signing a shy ‘THANK YOU’ as they stare at the crochet glove-turned-arm-band covering their tattoo. 

Logically, the thing is meaningless. It doesn’t need its brand covered, doesn’t need some.. silly, colorful thing concealing its tattoo. But.. the color is.. nice? Pleasant..? And Scott.. finds itself deeply appreciating the Vampire’s gesture. A small thing, something he shouldn’t be concerning himself with just like everything else he’s done since the previous night. He wants to teach Scott how to.. want. That’s so odd, but.. it does find itself wanting. It.. wanted the water, wanted its brand covered, despite not needing either of those things. That feels.. strange, yet.. good..? Good, yes, that seems.. an apt descriptor. This Vampire is possibly even stranger than the Sunbird, somehow. Scott didn’t think that particular feat was possible.

“Good, now that you’re feeling a bit better, let’s circle back to another question,” Mumbo starts, tilting his head. “Everyone is gonna get up soon so we can eat, do you want to? It’s okay if you don’t, but it will be good for you. And we have different stuff, Acho brought a lot from the tavern yesterday, apparently a gift from the owner, so you can maybe try some things and check what you like?”

Void, more wants. Want want want want, how do these people deal with so many wants? So many desires? Too many. It does not need– want– need-? How is it meant to want, why is it meant to want–

S̵̡̲̓̽ṕ̷̟̬̉i̷̝̣̐r̵̹̼̒ã̷̦̉ĺ̵͍̗i̸̘̦̔n̵̡̅̐g̷̗̾ ̸͉̠́̾ā̷̭̲͝g̸̰͉̏a̵̞̟̿i̴̤̍͝ń̶̙̼͌,̷͔͐ͅ ̴̖̍͗A̴̩͎͌̓l̸͈̤̐̂ỉ̴̢̑.̸̙̈́ ̷̟̰̉̿B̷̧̘̓̄r̴̡̍è̶̘̙̐a̵̜͂ṫ̶͘͜ḧ̸̰̈́ë̸̳̓.̴̧͙̂̈.̸̪̖̉.̸͖͖͛͐

You’re no help. At all. 

D̵̠͚̈̇o̴̼̅ ̵̧͖͛ý̵̚͜ǒ̷̩̝̋ű̵͎̱͘ ̴͇̄̈́ẅ̷̱́å̷̡̤n̵̼͚͋n̷̬͖͗͘a̴̻͠ ̷̛̳̈́f̶̨̂͠r̵̩͝è̷̟͗ā̸̙k̸͖̦͗ ̵̦̺̅'̸͑ͅe̵̗̦͂m̵̟͗ ̴̲̆́ö̴̫͚̐u̷̗̽͛t̴̢͖̿?̸̙̖̂͘

Could you shut your nonexistent mouth for two seconds?!

There’s suddenly a little boop on their nose, as Mumbo quickly moves his hand away from their face and smiles at them awkwardly, worried that he might have overstepped. “It’s okay if you don’t have an answer right now, Scott.” He can hear a low ”Did he just.. boop them?” in the background, and can recognize that voice as Joel’s, but he doesn’t give it any attention, as he continues focusing on Scott.

Scott blinks several times in rapid succession, mentally rebooting. He. He did the-?

O̶̟̐͘h̶̦͖̍̀ ̷̼͋͘m̴̖̅̓y̷̧̍ ̶͈͛͋g̶̗̅o̴̖͋͑s̷̮͐̀h̸͙̲͒ ̵̪̑̀t̸̹̓͆h̶̼̯̃ḙ̸͐͠ÿ̸͍́̂ ̵̱̼̇̅b̵̭̹̀͝ȍ̴̭̀o̶͉̊̓p̷̪̓̈́e̷͕̞̾ď̵͙̹̑ ̶̢̈́y̷͕̌̑a̷͕͝!̸͙̺͑ ̴̧̺̒A̷͉̤͑͒l̴̫̕í̴̖͓ ̸̧̉ỵ̸̣͌o̵̧͈͊̿u̷̡̻̓̍ ̷̧͘g̶͚̔͛ö̶̡̥t̸̩̟̾̃ ̵̞̲́b̶̲̋͐o̷̘͇͠o̸͇̔p̴͙̙͌͌e̶̳̎d̸͔̍!̷̣̍

Scott blinks again, their ear flicks, and they finally boop Mumbo right back. It feels like reassurance, while the smallest, tiniest little twitch up appears on their lips for no more than a split second.

“Okay now, what the hell?” Grian whines, standing in the doorway of the bathroom. “First Owen gets this wave thing, and now Mumbo with his boops! I was there with them first!”

Suddenly all the sleepiness disappears from Owen’s face, him laying down on his hands, as he snorts and, lifting his hand up, waves at Scott, seeing how they are just in perfect position to see him. Scott seems to instinctively wave back, and the Sparrow beams.

“Get on their level, I guess,” Apo mumbles, immediately followed by a drawn-out yawn.

“What Apo said!” Scar chirps innocently.

Scott glances between everyone as they speak with the most drastically lost expression Mumbo’s seen so far, ears swiveling toward whoever speaks as their eye squints slightly in visible confusion.

“Okay, this is so not fair,” Grian whines, moving back to his own mat and flopping down, face on the little pillow that they managed to get a few days earlier. They are actually.. settling down here, which is a scary thought. They will have to leave sooner or later. 

“Can you get the food?” Owen whines from his place, as Grian snorts.

“Is food always in your thoughts?”

“Yes.”

“He loves free food.. especially stealing the food,” Acho adds with a chuckle, the Sparrow throwing his pillow at star.

“I don’t think we can get the food yet, our stove isn’t working right now,” Joel says, sitting on his mat against the wall with a smirk.

Apo immediately lifts her head up, glaring at Joel. “Are you seriously gonna continue with that bit?”

“Yep,” Joel answers with a pop, making the others chuckle.

“I mean.. He’s kinda right,” Acho says, tilting their head. “Apo.. Apo, you know we love yo–”

“Bah, get the damn food,” she mumbles, slowly sitting up on her mat and stretching. 

With the others picking up a conversation, Mumbo taps Scott’s shoulder, tilting his head to an empty mat, before he moves toward it. Martyn sitting on the mat next to it immediately winces, looking away, avoiding eye contact with the duo. The Vampire slightly shifts the mat to set it horizontally, and sits down, tapping the free space on his right inviting Scott to sit down, his left occupied by none other than the Siren.

Scott hums, unsure, but carefully shuffles over to slowly lower themself next to Mumbo, sitting right on the edge of the mat. It’s immediately fidgeting with the coarse rope around its wrist, forcing itself not to pick at the braided restraint with its claws. It could untie itself.. just tug this off.. It has a free hand, it’s not restrained at all, what’s the point of this..? Makes no sense, it’s so confused, what–

D̵̗̜̂̍o̵̦̟͐̽ņ̵͇̄́'̵̖̀t̶̮͔͂̐ ̵̲̓͛é̷̤v̵͈̔͘e̴͚̲͑ň̶̥̪͋ ̴̭̖̓s̶̩̕t̸̞̺͌a̸̤̫͗r̷̫̃̚t̷̙͚͂̿ ̴̨̠͂a̸̦̿͋g̴̮̤̎͘a̷̲͑̑i̶̳̟̇ņ̷̆,̵̛̬͆ ̶͚͙͆͒b̸͍͗ů̷̥̺͒d̷͚̥͑,̸͖̦́ ̵͓͝c̷̭̀h̵͔̃í̶̦l̷̰̎̔l̶͉̠̈́̐.̵̧̝͘

Shut up.

Ỉ̴̯ ̶̟̅w̵͚͑͛ͅî̶̫͉͋l̴̠̜͝ḻ̴̎͌ ̶̻͇͛b̴̹͖͝ö̶͕́ó̸̧̌p̸̞͋ ̴̲͘y̵̻̿̾͜o̶̡̖̐́u̸̙͝ ̸̜̣̄͛b̶̙͋͠e̸̘̜̎ỳ̵̢̩͋ǒ̵̙ṋ̶̽d̷̢̹̑̚ ̸̩̼̔̄t̷̤̑ḧ̸̥͓́́ḙ̸͆͐ ̸̱͋v̴̡̛̗̽ë̸̤̬́͝ȉ̷̯͂l̷͚̲͝͝,̷̘̀ ̴͖̌d̶̬̑ǫ̶̅̾n̵͈̎̆'̴̨̃t̸̙̾ͅ ̴̧́ţ̸̺̍ĕ̶͎̇s̵̝͕̐͋t̸͉͌̏ ̴̞̲̂m̶̳̑ė̸̩!̵̨̋

The room is filled with the sound of banter and laughter, and Scott is.. so confused. Perhaps it should stop expecting anything about this group to make sense… except the Siren. The Siren makes perfect sense, thank the Void. The Siren does not trust it, does not like it. The Siren hates it, and that allows it to breathe.  

It takes approximately thirty minutes for everyone to get up, do their usual wash-brush routine, before they finally start sitting down in a little circle, poor Apo holding the pot and warming whatever is inside. She thinks she’s finally free, when people start grabbing the other food Acho managed to get back to the hut yesterday, making her groan. With soft giggles, Scar and Grian get little plates– another gift from the locals– and give everyone one, Scott included, placing a plate in front of them. 

“Okay, so what are we planning today?” Joel asks, reaching for a bowl. They might have plates, but sadly they got only three of the bowls, so no soup for the others until the first three are done. “Are we going into town? Or is everything closed? And what was that about the tavern?”

“Tekla said that we can enter the tavern today and cook whatever we want, with all the ingredients in there,” Acho hums, getting himself some potato puree and sausage. “She knows we struggle with money, and we don’t really have a kitchen in this place, this hut is supposed to be a two or three day stay for travelers, so she told us to feel free to enter, get a family meal, you know?”

“Well that’s nice of her!” Jimmy chirps, sipping up a spoonful of soup. “Maybe we should go over there this evening! Eat all together after doing our split-off activities for the day!”

“That does sound nice,” Owen hums, glancing at Apo and Acho. “Are.. are we still-?”

“Yep,” Apo confirms quickly, a small, bittersweet smile on her face. “Right, Acho?”

“Mhm,” Acho hums with a nod, glancing at the Sparrow with a matching gentle look.

“Okay,” Owen breathes, relaxing just slightly.

Scott sits on the edge of the mat, knees hugged to its chest, and simply.. watches. Listens. They’re all so gentle with each other, so.. warm. It’s a little bizarre. Scott’s seen those soft eyes from the Sunbird, the Sparrow, briefly from the Canary, and even from the Vampire recently. It makes so much more sense when they’re doing it at each other, the warmth not quite as stifling, it makes sense here. Toward Scott? Weird. Very weird. It doesn’t understand, maybe it never will understand. Maybe these people really are just.. strange. Is the Siren their sane one? He’s clearly their guard, perhaps in this group the guard also has the sanity. Also odd– the guard Scott is used to is Myth, and he is the peak of insanity on particularly bad days– but that seems to make the most sense, so Scott’s sticking to it.

“Oh?” Grian suddenly looks up from his plate, looking back at the maze trio. “Is everything.. alright?”

Scar, who sits between them, immediately shrinks in himself, looking between Grian and the trio with an awkward smile, clearly already understanding what the three were talking about.

Mumbo hums, sending a glance toward his partners, before he turns back to Scott, who has been sitting still beside him. The plate in front of them is still empty and he doesn’t think they are planning to take anything, which makes them frown, looking down at all the food in front of them. “Scott?” He whispers, turning back to the Avian. “You can take whatever you want. Try something, maybe you will like it.”

Scott looks at the Vampire, a bit startled to be addressed again. Ah. Right, they wanted it to eat. Also odd. It glances down at all the bowls and plates, trying to figure out what literally any of it is. It ends up just grabbing what’s closest and biting into it– a potato, maybe, the only thing that looks familiar– tucking its knees back to its chest and eating the thing. Its throat immediately protests, and it has to fight a gag, swallowing down the chunk of potato before taking another bite. It eats robotically, teeth ripping through the item easily but throat violently protesting every time. It tastes fine. Certainly better than what it’s fed in its cell, but this makes its tongue and throat feel.. weird. 

T̵͓́͂h̴̭̃̎ͅê̸̹̫͘ ̶̨̟̆̄t̵̖̍ͅe̸͇͆x̷͚̳̀͑t̶̽ͅü̶̖̬̏ŗ̵͚̀e̷͎͈̓̚'̶͈́͘ṡ̴͜ ̴̘̾̌o̸̦͌v̶͖͛̈́e̶͚̦͋r̶̩͒̊ş̶̇͗t̵̼̼̉ì̵̮m̴͇̯̄̚ṵ̸̅̎l̴̦̑ͅå̷͕͇̀t̴̹̣̎i̶̧̲̋n̴̲̓g̴̢̩͗͂,̵̟̠̾ ̸̤͛Ā̷̖̱̅l̸̗̑͝ĩ̷̢.̴̧̀̿

Texture? Over..sti… Why are you spitting random words now?

I̵͓̬͐'̴̖̀m̸̳̈́͝ ̴̝̓͋n̴̡̐o̸̜͝͝ͅẗ̶͉̜́̾-̴̤̃͆ ̶̖͕͋͂O̵͔̟͊h̷̝́̾,̶̪͎̊ ̸͔̔͘w̶̰̓̍͜ḥ̵̈a̵͖̓ṱ̶̲̌ẻ̸͚͙̑v̷̜̄e̷̘͘͠ŗ̷̫͋.̷̘͝

“Owen, Apo and I are spending most of today together,” Acho explains after swallowing a bite of sausage. “Same with Monday, if we can. Family day and mourning day, y’know?”

“What star said,” Apo grunts tiredly.

Mumbo frowns a bit, analyzing Scott’s face. He can see the clear discomfort on their face, especially after taking in the food, and it makes him wonder what the reason is. Are they not used to eating? Or maybe just eating solid food? Will it be better with something softer? Something that maybe they don’t have to chew? He looks around, and notices puree on the table. Potato… the same thing, but not solid, maybe.. Just maybe..

He reaches for Scott’s plate and then to the little pot with the puree, putting some of it on the plate, before placing it in front of Scott again, extending an extra spoon to them. “You can try this?” He asks, tilting his head.

Change comes from experimenting to find what’s right. He can do that. He can help with that, he’s good with analysis.

“Ah, I see,” Grian mutters, nervously shifting on his mat. “You.. will be back for dinner though, right? In the tavern?” He.. doesn’t like the idea of the Maze trio spending the supposed to be family day without the others, but.. They are not exactly their family, are they? Not yet. Those three are a family, they have a right to spend the day together. “We will be happy to have you around the other time too, but.. be there for dinner?”

“Yeah,” Owen agrees easily, the other two nodding along. “We’ll be there, ‘course we will.”

Scott blinks, hesitantly taking the spoon and staring at the.. whatever the fuck is on its plate now. It.. smells fine? Fairly similar to the potato it just ate, but certainly different. It scoops up a bit of.. whatever and eats the spoonful, blinking rapidly while its ears perk up just a bit. Oh. That’s.. far more pleasant actually, huh. Smoother? That’s the word, yes, much smoother than the potato. It’s.. kinda.. good? Huh…

.̶̰͍̄.̶̛͖Ṑ̶̤̞h̷̺̄̔ ̷̗͈͊̈́m̵̡̗̓̈́y̸̦͑̇ ̷̘̀g̶̡̲͌̈́ó̸̙s̸̩͕̓́h̸̞̫͋͘ ̵̳͗d̴̨̠̊o̴͇͒ ̷̫̼͒y̸̡̢̛̌o̴̦͇͛͌u̸̹̚ ̷̙̇̌l̸͕̓͝î̵͇̟̓k̶̤̈́̚e̵̞̼͝ ̴̪̈́ï̸̭t̶̛͎̩͘?̷̘̈́̓

..M-maybe? I– Sh-shut up, leave me alone, stop fucking talking already–

O̸̻̔̕ḳ̴͐̈́ḁ̸͒y̷̟͕͒,̵͚͎̐ ̶̝̊ǫ̴͈͗́ḱ̸̪̣ǎ̶͕̠̕y̷̮̔,̶͇͊͜ ̷̡̮͘s̴͓͕͒͋ḧ̷̝͕́e̴̟̒e̶̙͝s̶̭͕̎͆ḧ̵̼̬́̑!̸̙͘

Mumbo smiles, seeing Scott’s.. satisfied? Surprised? Happy face? He notes that they take the partial-solid food much better, it probably goes the same for liquid? Soups will be good, probably. They can try that too.  Then he catches a glance from Jimmy on the other side of the circle, looking at them two. When Jimmy looks back at him, their eyes meeting, he softly tilts his head toward Scott’s plate, as if questioning, and so Mumbo nods his head. As a medic.. Jimmy would probably know best about a food diet, no? They can talk about that later.

“Okay, I know Jim mentioned something about split-activities, was that about quests?” Joel asks, his mouth half-full. “I mean.. I’m pretty sure the quests are off for today, at least most of them. And the shops I think are also closed, so we can’t get out anywhere.. What are we doing before dinner?” He directs the question mostly to others, the maze trio excluded. They apparently had their own plans for the day. 

“Don’t know about you guys, but I’m dragging Owen and Acho to the local temple for a bit,” Apo says, chewing on her chicken, before she frowns. “Gods, I don’t remember the last time I actually visited one, I really need to fix that…”

“I mean I was gonna maybe spend today bouncing around with some of you guys.. Jellie with me of course!” Scar declares excitedly. “I heard some locals talking about a flea market opening at lunchtime! There’s bound to be goodies!”

“I’m dragging Joel and Martyn someplace too,” Jimmy says with a mischievous grin. “Though before that I’m.. doing a solo thing. Quick and easy, won’t take any more than ten minutes, no worries.”

Mumbo bites down on his lip, immediately feeling his fang pierce through. It’s supposed to be a family day. They are supposed to be together the whole day, they are supposed to– They are not his dad and papa. They don’t have to spend every minute of their life around Mumbo.

Apo seems to focus on Scar for a second, thinking, her eyes shifting back to Owen and Acho. Maybe after visiting the temple, they can go to the market with Scar, she knows Scar would appreciate more of them arou– Maybe.. Maybe not today.

“Oh god, what are you planning?” Joel asks with a snort, turning back to Jimmy. 

“I can follow you to the market,” Grian smiles at Scar, his eyes shifting to Mumbo. “You’re coming, right?”

“Yeah, why not!” The Vampire answers, smiling at the duo. “I didn’t even know the markets were open, good to know we can walk around the town, even for a little bit.” 

“Yay!” Scar cheers.

“What I’m planning is none of your concern,” Jimmy hums, still grinning toothily at his brother-in-law.

“That’s a very sinister smile,” Owen points out with a snort. “Why do you have to vanish for ten minutes specifically, anyhow?”

“...Don’t worry about that either,” Jimmy murmurs, wings subtly tucking closer to himself as his grin becomes just the slightest bit strained.

Everyone in the room notices, but lets it go, focusing on their food and small talk between bites. They speak about their plans for the day, about how they spent their last week around the town, what food they liked, and the people they met, as the time slowly passes by. After finishing with their lunch, most of them take a time to change clothes, before they start packing their backpacks and getting together in groups just outside the hut.

Owen, Acho and Apo depart first, waving goodbyes and running toward the direction of the temple, and after that Jimmy disappears to do something in secret, leaving Joel and Martyn sitting on the rock next to the hut, waiting. Scar talks about the market, with Mumbo messing around in their pouch they got just to keep their money in, counting how much they have and how much they can spend. Grian already looks tired watching him do that, understanding that “we cannot spend more than that” hasn’t worked since the beginning, and he’s dooming himself with a stressful time, accompanying this specific duo. His eyes shift to Scott, who stands awkwardly next to Mumbo, looking very out of place. 

He just sighs heavily, happy to at least have them around. Mumbo seems to have found a very good approach in helping Scott, so he’s gonna give it to him and let him continue whatever black magic he is doing, as he slowly follows them toward the market.

The only thing that worries him, turning around, is Martyn and Joel sitting in complete silence next to the hut, and the fact that since the day started, Martyn hasn’t said a word.

---

Jimmy half-drags himself to the forest outside the village, already feeling his breathing pick up. He should really be more responsible about this, should do this more often so he isn’t nearly getting stuck in a state like he is now. Void, he’s so stupid, putting it off like this.

When he can drag himself no further, he finally collapses against a tree, sliding down the rough bark with a groan. He hates doing this, hates that it’s necessary, why’d he have to go and get so much magic–

The Canary finally lets that mental dam inside himself open, just barely keeping the sudden onslaught of magic from breaking through his defenses. He clasps his hands over his ears, despite knowing it won’t help, as he quickly becomes aware of everything. He can hear the whole village, the whole forest, everything is so loud-!

Jimmy can hear leaves falling gently onto the grass, can hear a bird chirp from miles and miles and miles away, can hear children dragging their parents from their beds, can hear the bubble of magic around Tbilisi’s temples, can hear the pulsing of blessings around a few of his friends, can hear–

He can hear everything. Nothing but noise, noise, noise, as the magic that constantly gathers in his Soul finally finds release. He swears he can hear colors, it’s the worst overstimulation he’s experienced since the last time he did this. His head hurts so badly, and he knows Joel and Martyn will clock him immediately once he’s back, and he’ll have to lie about just needing some air, just clearing his thoughts, he’s okay now he’s fine he definitely didn’t just spend ten minutes being so overstimulated he wanted to claw his goddamn ears off–

Joel. Foot tapping, tail swishing, wordless grumbling under his breath. Annoyed. Impatient. Worried. Martyn. Heart slightly too fast, hands fidgeting, foot tapping faster, breathing hitched. Overthinking. Hurt. Terrified.

As expected, it takes about eight minutes for his magic to finally stop crashing through him like a current, and another two for him to find his breath and calm down. Magic at normal levels. Check. Hearing at normal levels. Check. Once he’s sure he’s not going to get any more spikes of magic, he takes a deep breath and stands from the ground, making his way back to the other two on slightly wobbly legs. The rest of the day can be good now. Great.

And as he thought, the second he gets closer to the other two and Joel turns around, noticing him, the Panda frowns, worry and confusion in his eyes, looking the Canary up and down.

“You… alright there, Jim?” Joel asks, standing up from the rock and putting his hands on his hips, raising an eyebrow. Martyn also comes back to his senses for a second, looking back at the Canary with his own frown, but not saying anything. 

Jimmy hums noncommittally, rubbing at his temples for a moment and taking a breath, before plastering on a smile. “I’ve been better, but I’ll be alright! Sorry I took a while, you two ready to go? I have plans. ”

“Whatever,” Martyn scoffs, standing up. His left hand is fidgeting with the bandages on the other, little red spots appearing on the white, before Joel slaps his hand away.

“Stop that,” he says firmly, turning back to Jimmy. “Welp, lead us then, let’s see what you have planned.”

Jimmy grins, taking the lead further into town, occasionally sending glances back at Martyn. He knows why the Siren is upset, of course he does. He.. really hopes what he has planned can cheer his friend up a bit. At least for a little while.

As the trio makes their way through the village, Jimmy marvels at the decorations around. So much red, Jimmy really hopes Grian and Scar are keeping Mumbo occupied a healthy amount. Almost everyone they pass is wearing some article of red clothing, there’s little baskets filled with red eggs, children playing in the street and adults making idle chatter. It’s a cheerful day, good to see. 

Every building they pass has a newly painted red moon, the different symbols in a prayer around it, and it seems that every single tree has acquired a few bells that chime with the wind. Even from here you can hear the main bell of the temple, located right in the center of the town, surrounded by the warm waters. As he learned from Apo who has asked around the first week of them being here, the village was apparently built around the source of the hot water. It’s the only source of warmth in this biome, so it’s not a surprise that people decided to build around it. 

Apo said something about the village reminding her of the Hearth? 

As they walk on the street, they can see tables scattered around the place, some sweets and other snacks on them, probably put together by the locals yesterday considering that most of the shops are closed today, and even the market is only gonna be open for a little bit. Something needs to entertain the children, and what can it be other than chocolate?

Jimmy observes all of this with a small smile, the small wings on the sides of his head now shielding his ears to muffle just a bit of the lively noise. “Almost there!” He chirps, growing both more giddy and more anxious the closer they get to their destination. He’s almost certain Joel will love it, and usually he’d be sure of Martyn’s enjoyment too, that’s why he decided to do it! But then this morning happened and.. Void, he’s nervous, sue him!

Finally, they reach a little walled-off area, and inside are a bunch of carefully cared for springs. The place is surrounded by another audible (to Jimmy, at least) bubble of magic, making it safe to swim in while still being plenty warm. Not nearly as hot as the springs the village was originally built on, but still warm, like a massive hot tub. 

“I.. had a day off from Cordelia that I didn’t tell you guys about,” Jimmy admits, too nervous to look at the two accompanying him. “I came and scouted this out? It’s still hot, b-but it’s erm.. It’s water, yeah? Warm enough to soothe you without charring your scales, M, a-and I know you both like taking dips in hotter water every now and then, s-so I figured– ah– I-I dunno, we haven’t really had the luxury of just relaxing in a while so–”

“Jim! My man!” Joel claps Jimmy’s shoulder, looking around with a grin.

Martyn beside them chuckles weakly, looking at the water. “You know what?” He starts, finally speaking up after almost an hour or two of silence. “I wouldn’t mind some relaxation right now, this is great. Thanks, Tim,” he says, also clapping the Canary’s shoulder.

Jimmy beams, wings fluttering happily. “Oh good! Great!” He chirps, bouncing on his toes. Then he bites his inner cheek, grabbing Martyn by the arm and pulling him into the tightest hug known to man. “‘S gonna be okay,” he murmurs against the Siren’s shoulder, wings briefly wrapped around his best friend.

Martyn’s breath hitches, his smile immediately dropping, as he allows Jimmy to tug him closer into an embrace. He can see Joel from the corner of his eye, looking at him oh so sadly, and he just.. doesn’t understand.

“It was very obvious, huh..” The Siren huffs, his tail behind him nervously swaying, as he hugs Jimmy in response, his voice shaking. “Am I.. overreacting? I probably am,” he says with a sad chuckle, leaning away from the hug, as he slowly moves toward the water and quickly takes his shoes off, dropping down on the edge and dipping his feet in the spring. “We didn’t fight or anything, he took care of me yesterday, and we talked a bit after that when he came back from his shift very out of it. I guess we had a slight disagreement after that, when he said he’s gonna go up to.. to them, but for a second this morning, I thought it was alright, but.. He ignored me the whole time.. Or is that just my insecurities and imagination? Because I swear, if I go at least five minutes without talking he always checks up on me, but today.. He just.. never even looked at me the whole time we were eating.. I don’t get it.” He stares down at the water, suddenly feeling very naked in front of the two. He doesn’t understand why he’s confessing everything right now, but.. This is better than letting his thoughts consume him.

Jimmy slips out of his own shoes and sits next to Martyn, draping a wing over his shoulders. “..Mumbo gets tunnel visioned sometimes,” Jimmy mutters, kicking his feet in slow motion through the water. “We’re not used to seeing it in casual settings, ‘cause usually it happens when they’re focused on a new project or they’re freaking out about something.. As shitty as it sounds, I think their brain’s connected Scott to a project in their head? They want to take care of them, they want to help them, so they’re tunnel visioned on Scott. I don’t.. I-I don’t think you’re overreacting, Martyn… I think you’re hurt, and angry, and scared, so.. you either lash out or you shut down. You’ve always tried to protect us, but now one of your closest friends and your boyfriend have taken to helping someone that hurt us. I.. won’t claim to understand Mumbo’s whole thought process, but.. I know I kind of want to help Scott..? Maybe it’s the medic in me, but seeing what’s been done to them or hearing it from Grian just.. compels me, I guess. I’m still scared out of my wits of them, hurt or not Scott is dangerous and bloody terrifying, but there’s also just.. an instinct, I guess.” The Canary sighs, glancing at Martyn from the corner of his eye. “..I think you should talk to Mumbo. Tell him all of this, just one on one. He will listen to you, M, you know that. You’ve gotta tell him you’re feeling like this. He isn’t Grian.”

“What Jimmy said!” Joel grins, sitting by Martyn’s other side. “I mean.. Come on, Mumbo loves you , honestly, now that we know this, it makes so much sense with the eyes he looks at you. I’m sure he will understand you, he’s usually the first one to listen, he will be there for you– so don’t worry about it so much, just communicate like adults, Martyn.”

Martyn stays quiet for a minute or two, moving his feet under the water and circling this conversation inside his head as he sighs heavily. “Yeah.. yeah, you’re right. I guess, that’s just how Mumbo’s brain works, I will just explain this from my side, and well, we’ll see how it goes; I’m sure he will understand my worries, he always does,” he whispers the last part, nodding, and then goes silent for a second more, before he smiles, clapping his hands on their shoulders. “Thank you, guys,” he says softly, looking between them, and his gentle smile immediately sharpens into a smirk, as he pushes both of them into the water. 

Jimmy shrieks, wings flapping as he sputters up water, ear wings shaking it out of their feathers. “OI! Last time I comfort you, ya jerk!” He declares, entirely untruthful. His claws make a grab for the Siren’s ankle, mercilessly pulling him into the water with one firm tug.

“Come o– ” Joel yells just before he is plunged into the water, Martyn by their side just a second later, giggling underwater like a chaotic gremlin he is. Joel delivers a punch to his side, the Red Panda’s head immediately popping up on the surface. “That’s our fault, honestly what were we thinking?” Joel huffs, with a slight grin. “We were basically asking for it, sitting by his side near water, like come on.”

“You were,” Martyn agrees with a nod, falling back into the water. 

“We were,” Jimmy sighs with a solemn nod of his own, shaking out his wings. Then braces his feet on a rock, using his legs and his wings to propel himself forward and tackle Martyn through the water, his wings making a massive splash while the two basically tussle underwater. For an Avian, Jimmy’s always been surprisingly adept at moving in water– must be the Merling ancestry.

Martyn outright laughs at him, small bubbles around them as he pounces back at Jimmy, being much quicker in the water. This reminds him of the days back on Evo, when they played around like the children they were, having fun on the isles and taking a swim in their waters. Feels very.. nostalgic.

“I thought we were relaxing here, but I guess we aren’t,” Joel comments with a snort, as he sits down on the rock underwater and leans against the other, looking down at his clothes. “Damn.. I guess after this we are going back to the hut and wearing pajamas for dinner in the tavern. What is more familial than going to a family dinner on the other side of the village in your sleeping clothes?” 

“Not much!” Jimmy chirps, immediately followed by a gargled squawk as he’s dunked in water again, water splashing violently from the flapping of his wings. The water barely has time to calm before the Canary is grabbing Martyn by the ankle again, dragging him back underwater for more childish play-fighting. Having Merling instincts flare up on occasion as an Avian is.. very inconvenient, it seems.

Joel snorts again, watching the two with a fondly exasperated grin. Idiots. Blummin’ idiots for best friends is what he’s got. Lovely-jubbly.

~

Apo didn’t even notice when the little rope bracelet around her wrist became heavier. She doesn’t remember when she changed her lucky charm the last time, which is a very bad sign for her. Others don’t really understand her need to have it, but oh well, all of them are a bit weird in their own ways, right? Apo understands that the rope lucky charm isn’t actually blessed, but she grew up having them, so changing things now felt.. wrong. The rope gave her some sense of home, of security. 

That’s why when the three of them are walking to the center of the village, Apo digs inside their little bags, hoping to find another, new one, that she can wear after she burns the one currently on her hand. Since it feels so heavy.. One could say it absorbed too much misfortune and she had to get rid of it as soon as possible.

“And I mean.. On one hand, it feels good, you know?” Owen asks, Acho immediately responding with a hum and a nod. “Like, honestly, I didn’t expect for them to just turn around to us like that, and it is good– but on the other hand, good lord, Grian’s attention on me is terrifying.”

Acho snorts, covering stars mouth for a second. “I mean.. You have been spending a lot of time together these past days, I would say you’re turning into friends, Owen. Besides, I’ve seen him around us lately, and he seems more scared of us than we are of him. ”

“I wouldn’t say that I’m scared of him, just..” The Sparrow tilts his head, cringing. “Weirded out? A bit.. This is just new, after a whole year of no change, this sudden switch is strange. I’m getting used to it, but it's still very strange. And the others? Can’t speak about everyone, but some of them actually listen to me from time to time, and I honestly don’t know what to do? What to feel?” 

“Aha!” Apo mutters quietly to herself, taking a little rope out of the bag and putting it inside the kangaroo pocket on her cropped short-sleeve hoodie, right under the paw prints. She giggles softly, reminded of what she’s wearing; one of her favourite colors and a gift!

“Fair, fair,” Acho nods along, sending an amused glance at Apo while continuing their conversation with Owen. “I’ve bonded with Mumbo, actually, and a little with Grian? The others are making a good effort, and yeah it’s a little strange so suddenly, but it’s endearing. Honestly, once I realized Grian’s bending over backwards trying to make stuff up to us he stopped being intimidating– poor guy feels awful, it’s almost cute. In the way a kicked puppy’s cute, I guess.”

Owen laughs, while Apo finally catching up with the conversation frowns at the duo. “Are you two talking about the others behind their backs?” She asks, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s not like it’s the first time, now is it?” Owen asks, raising his own eyebrow back at the Demon, before he smiles. “Ah right, you’re getting closer to Scar now, you probably don’t tolerate stuff like that anymore, should have guessed..”

Apo kicks the Sparrow with a huff, a smile on her face. “Shut up! Also, Acho, seriously? Mumbo?” She questions, turning back to the Fae. “When did you even have time to– Ah, you do work together.. You probably had a lot of time to talk over there. I guess I just thought you’d be too busy to bond in a workplace.”

Acho shrugs casually. “Eh, we had a little lull in work to get to talking yesterday, not much but.. we connected, you could say,” star explains, glancing to the side with a sort of far-away look. Then, with a wry smile, star adds, “We joked about our trauma together, it was a good time.”

“Oh-ho-ho?” Owen turned back to Acho with his own wondering smile. “Well, isn’t bonding with trauma the greatest start of a friendship? But honestly, I didn't expect it from you, you don’t really share trauma with other people, let alone joke about it with someone else than us, that’s a very big step toward a new friendship.”

“Bah,” Apo groans, rubbing her eyes. “I might have trauma-dumped on Scar a bit.. Concussions are a strange thing.”

“Not very surprising from you,” Owen teases, receiving another punch from the Demon. 

“I also told Grian about my wing,” Acho adds flippantly, only shrinking the tiniest bit at the matching shocked looks it earns him. “Jus’ figured if we’re mentioning who all we’ve told stuff..”

“..Do I also have to share my trauma with Grian, now?” Apo asks quietly, raising a hand, immediately receiving another punch from the Sparrow. “Okay, jeeez..”

“This week is very strange,” Owen comments with a huff. “I mean.. Good for you Acho, if you shared it on your own, I just didn’t expect all of us to.. open up so soon, I guess.” He cringes slightly, rubbing his eyes. 

“I wasn’t.. planning on it,” Acho admits with a slight wince. “You both know I don’t talk about my wing with hardly anyone, I just.. When we went up on the roof a couple days ago to tie Scott up, he.. I’m not gonna talk about what happened, exactly, but he just– I needed him to get it. I realized he kept accidentally, maybe even just subconsciously, expecting Scott to.. listen to him? Immediately? To just get what he was saying and be okay? He was desperate at the very least, but it.. doesn’t work like that, and I only know that because of what I’ve personally experienced, s-so…” The Fae swallows, looking away again. “..Rambling. But. Yeah. That’s why.”

“That.. does make sense for him, yes,” Owen mumbles, awkwardly fidgeting with her braid. “I mean.. Let’s be honest, since we’ve known him, he always expected us to listen and follow, and I guess I also have those exact issues sometimes, because I had to get used to that position of a leader, and maybe it's the same for Grian, but Gods, sometimes it’s a bit too far.”

“He.. does his best,” Acho murmurs. “It’s not sadistic, and I seriously doubt it’s a conscious decision on his part most of the time. He’s a little like Mumbo in that regard, just focusing on one thing he cares a lot about and blocking out everything else. Maybe not on purpose, but.. definitely something to work on…”

“Safety,” Owen immediately supplies. “He’s very focused on safety and in the process, he just.. forgets that health is also very important. You’re right, he does his best, and I trust him to work on it in the future, finally start listening to the others. I guess he just needs some time to get used to it.”

“You had to,” Apo adds, shrugging. “I mean, you weren’t always a perfect leader either, remember times when you ignored some of our advice because you thought it was too much or not enough? You took some time to learn how to listen, I would say that goes for Grian too. I don’t know, Scar said..” She cringes slightly. “He said something about Grian not being himself sometimes? Flipping mindsets? That now on the run he’s even more paranoid than before, so I guess.. he’s struggling right now, not in a very good headspace.”

“Who is in a good headspace?” Owen mumbles with a deep sigh. 

“None of us, that’s for sure,” Acho says with a weak snicker, before perking up slightly. “Oh, hey, is that the temple? How have I never seen this before…”

As if on cue, the bell from the temple started ringing, the sound echoing through the whole village. Strange thing about Apo, she always loved those bells. She doesn’t actually understand why, or how, because a loud noise repeating over and over again, just blasting her ears off, especially when she’s inside of the temple? Somehow she found comfort in that. With them moving closer to the temple, she could see more and more. Apo has walked by this place a few times while doing the quests, but she never had time to go inside. 

In front of them was a lake. She could feel all the warmth radiating from it, as the lake was the natural source of hot water in this village, the source around which they built this village in the first place. There were four matching bridges made of white stone reaching to the small land in the center of the water, the whole land surrounded by different flowers and engraved stones, including a single waypoint near one of the entrances into the temple. The temple was made of four very high columns of the same white stone, their surface covered in different patterns and symbols, mostly representing different Gods. The roof was also the same white, made into the shape of a cone, the roof covering the whole land and protecting it from any rain or snow. 

As they walked over the bridge, she could feel the power as soon as she stepped on the land, her legs shaking. She turned around to check on Owen and Acho, but noticed that they didn’t have a similar reaction to the place, just looking around, admiring the place. Right, not everyone can sense this like she can. She forgets that sometimes. As she turns around, back to the temple, her eyes fall on a pedestal with an immortal fire. Despite the fact that a big portion of Gods abandoned them centuries ago, the fires on sacred grounds still kept their immortality, never burning out. No water or snow could ever harm it. 

She lets out a shaky exhale, moving closer to the pedestal. The floor in the temple was made of stone, and yet the sand circled the pedestal, some candles sticking out of the ground, and she could see a little table on her right, filled with free-to-take candles. 

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” She asks, smiling at the fire on top of the pedestal.

“Yeah..” Acho breathes, rubbing at stars arms and glancing around. The Fae may not be blessed, or even religious, but stars inherent connection to magic still gives star a bit of a weird feeling on holy ground. “Wow… Goddess of the Hearth, right? That’s what that bigger symbol means, ‘s your goddess?”

The mentioned bigger symbol is on the pedestal, the fire shining down on it, making the symbol gleam. Apo hums softly. “She’s often represented as the heart of the Gods.. you know, Hearth. Fire that drives us, etcetera etcetera,” she says with a giggle. “Most of the temples have her symbol either one of the biggest, or in the center of the place. She’s very important, also one of the rare ones that is still around.” She moves closer to the table, taking a single candle, before she turns back to the fire. Holding the candle near it, as the string catches fire, she closes her eyes for a second, sending a quiet prayer to her patron, before she takes a step back and gently pushes the candle into the ground where she just stood.

“I never really got into any of the religions back then,” Owen huffs, staring inside the fire. “It’s probably nice to have some faith, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Apo confirms with a gentle voice, as she stands up and takes off the rope tied to her wrist, holding it in her hand. She murmurs a quiet, “Thank you, Lady Hearth,” before she throws it into the fire, watching it burn.

Acho takes the time to glance at other symbols, curious despite themself. They recognize a few– the Blood God, Moon God, Death Goddess. There are several they don’t recognize, and they end up being drawn to one in particular, shimmering in the light like the symbol for Hearth. Weird.

The Fae slowly, almost cautiously, approaches the shiny symbol on a seemingly random pillar, right at eye level. A shimmery silver four-point star, symbol for.. the God of Souls? Makes enough sense– the shape of a Soul is a four-point star, when summoned into physical existence at least, and each person’s Soul holds two to three colors matching their magic and essence. Acho’s own is a light pink, fading into silver at the center. A star makes sense for a God with dominion over Souls, for certain.

“Shiny,” they murmur to themself, just because. They pause right in front of the symbol, unsure why they’re so drawn to it, aside from it being weirdly sparkly. “What’re you trying to tell me..?” They whisper.

He feels a little ridiculous, standing here and squinting at a symbol on a pillar. It’s probably just iridescent paint catching the light, but he feels.. a pull to the star in front of him. It’s a strange feeling, a sensation he can’t quite describe, can’t quite pin down. It makes.. something in his chest ache. Hm.

Owen looks between Apo and Acho confused, tilting his head. He has no idea what they are doing, but he just sighs, turning around and leaning against a temple column, looking down at the flowers outside as his eyes slowly follow them and lift up to the hot water surrounding the land. This place makes him a bit.. uncomfortable. 

Apo on the other hand seems to feel just at home, as she gets the new little rope out of her pocket, places it on her palm, covers it with the other, and quietly mutters a prayer. She can feel the rope absorb some of the holy power, as she opens her eyes and finally wraps it around her right wrist. 

Once it’s secured on her hand, she smiles and turns around to the other two. “New lucky charm acquired, I’m ready to leave!”

Acho’s ear twitches, but they don’t respond, transfixed on the symbol. Curiously, they reach out and ever-so-gently run a hand over the paint, the pads of their fingers brushing the coarse pillar. They could almost swear the little symbol shimmers just a little brighter at that, curious, intrigued, pleased by its observer.

…Did Acho seriously just personify paint on a pillar? Gods he’s going insane… The Fae groans softly, shaking his head and removing his hand to finally walk back to the other two. He shivers with a half-stumble, a chill bolting up his spine when his hand leaves the rough concrete. Void.. Temples.  

As Acho turns around, they are met with both Owen and Apo looking at him, utterly confused, one more than the other.

“Ahh– You know.. I would.. look into that,” Apo comments with a wry smile, pointing at the symbol behind the Fae. “Just in case, you know? Most of the Gods have abandoned us, but the ones that are still here do tend to reach out to mortals once in a while..”

“Oh?” Owen turns back to Apo, his eyebrows raised. “You think–?”

“I mean.. there’s always a chance…”

Acho just snorts. “A God? Reaching out to me? You’re hilarious, Apo. C’mon, best get back into town– maybe we can find some of the others before lunch, join Scar at that flea market he mentioned?” Star questions, only somewhat rhetorically, already making stars way out of the temple. 

Owen and Apo look at each other with a sigh. If Apo is right– Well, they’ll see what happens in the future. With Apo sending a last glance toward the fire on the pedestal, the two of them follow the Fae out of the temple, crossing the white stone bridge back to the street. 

~

Grian has a few personal missions for today. Simple ones, in the grand scheme of things– it’s Red Saturday, he’s not doing anything insane– but important to him nonetheless. He wants to try and pull Mumbo out of their daze for.. at least a little bit, he wants to prevent a spiral from Scar, and he wants to get some clothes for Scott. One of those things is.. much easier than the others. 

“Oh! Oh! What about this?” Scar asks giddily, running around the clothes and looking back at Scott with the biggest and brightest smile possible. 

Mumbo continues to send nervous glances between the two, worried that Scar’s enthusiastic behavior might put poor Scott even farther off the edge. So far, thankfully(?), they’ve just seemed incredibly confused by Scar’s.. everything. Not put off, though certainly a bit skittish at times, just.. They clearly have no idea what to do with blatant friendliness, much less such loudly blatant friendliness.

“No?” Scar asks, tilting his head and pulling a face, before he turns back to the clothes and, immediately putting a grin back on, darts to another set, pointing at it. “What about this?!”

“Scar..” Mumbo starts with a nervous chuckle. “Maybe we can just.. give them some time to look around before they have to choose anything..”

Scott tilts their own head, glancing between Scar and Mumbo with the slightest little squint. They glance down at the clothes Scar is pointing at, still appearing hopelessly lost, all while scratching idly under and around the crochet glove around their bicep. They’ve been doing that for at least an hour now.

“Maybe.. You can try holding them, Scott,” Mumbo suggests softly, tilting his head. “I mean.. to see if you like the texture? Like–” He moves toward the table full of different clothes, reaching for one of them, a white shirt made of cotton, with little black hearts patched in all around it. “You can maybe see how it feels against your skin? Touch your fingers, just feel if it’s comfortable.” He extends the shirt to Scott, rubbing his own thumb over the shirt. 

Scott takes the shirt curiously in both hands, momentarily letting go of the rope in his right to feel the fabric. They seem neutral about the cotton, their only tell at this point being the twitches of their ears. They both flick down just slightly when Scott’s finger brushes the stitches around the patched-on hearts, alongside a small furrow of their brows. Cotton is fine, but rougher fabrics seem to be a no-go– either that, or it’s simply texture inconsistency that bothers them.

Grian can see Mumbo curiously watching Scott’s reaction and waiting for the verdict, as his face lights up, seeing their brows furrow. He nods thoughtfully, as if writing something down inside his head, as he turns back to the table, looking around. Grian sighs heavily, if someone knows how to search for the right texture, it would be Mumbo; he always had some kind of trouble with it in everything, from clothes to food. 

Grian’s eyes shift down to the rope dangling between the two. They have gotten some.. strange looks while walking around the town, and he has seen at least three parents dragging their children away, who were staring at Scott in the eyes or questioning their collar. As they found out, others are also interested in Scott's unnatural sclera. People that recognized them just send them curious looks, before nodding with a smile and walking away. At this point everyone in the village knew about the weirdos living in their hut, so why not drag another weirdo into it? 

“Oh, what about this one?” Scar asks, holding up what looks like a sleeveless black turtleneck, though strangely lacking the bulk at the neck that most shirts of that style tend to have, especially in biomes like this. Fault of the hot spring setting, probably. “Feel this one, here!”

Scott blinks, taking the offered clothing just as carefully as everything else they touch, rubbing the fabric between their fingers. Their ears noticeably perk this time, dragging the pads of their fingers gently over the smooth shirt while their head tilts curiously. Oh, they like this one.

“Oh? Found something?” Grian asks softly, moving closer and looking down at the turtleneck. He doesn’t really like the fact that Scott is sticking with black, but hey, if they like it! 

“Yeah? Is that good?” Scar asks, leaning a bit forward, while Mumbo already starts his search for something similar to the shirt currently in Scott’s hands. 

Scott blinks, glancing up at Scar and back to the shirt in their hands. They nod tentatively, folding it up and holding it a bit closer to their chest, as if afraid it’ll be taken from them. They look back up at Scar, seeming equal parts intrigued and guarded.

“Great!” Scar exclaims, clapping his hands together. “Now, we can check for something similar and if we can’t find any more in this stall, we pay for that and move to another!” He says, turning around and looking down at the clothes.

“Maybe we can also try other textures?” Mumbo asks nervously, taking a silk shirt in silver. It doesn’t have any patches, and is very smooth, so maybe.. He turns it back to Scott, holding it up for them. “Try this, see if it feels fine.”

Scott drapes the turtleneck over their arm and carefully takes the silver shirt from Mumbo, repeating their little procedure. Their ears perk at this one too, not quite as much but still noticeably. They lift it up a bit, squinting– seems they’re now intrigued by the color of all things.

Mumbo nods with a grin, as he turns back to the table telling Scar to “Search for something in silver!” and Gods, he almost looks delirious. Grian can see the grin, can hear that soft hum, and yet Mumbo’s eyes look both so calculated and.. empty. He’s either getting too focused, slowly spiraling too deep, or both, and Grian doesn’t like either of those options. 

“Oh!” Mumbo exclaims, his eyes falling on something from a nearby stall. “I’ll be right back!” They tell the others as they dart away, and Grian can see them slowly approach a dark blue jacket, looking it over and then talking about something with the seller, pointing toward Grian and the others. With a nod from the seller, they quickly turn back to the others and once again approach Scott. “Try this one, you need one jacket or a coat so maybe this will work?”

Scott drapes the shirt over their arm next to the turtleneck, taking the jacket with the same near-reverence as everything else. This time, though, their ears perk before they even touch the thing, and they only seem more pleased by the jacket’s texture. They stick their hand briefly in the sleeve for good measure, feeling the slightly soft lining, and they’re visibly just as pleased with that. They seem a bit intrigued by the small lapel, and downright fascinated by the two big clasps it has in front as opposed to a zipper or buttons. The length of the actual jacket wouldn’t reach past their waist, which seems to be a very comfortable length for them. They seem just as interested in the deep blue of it as they did with the silver of the shirt now folded over their arm.

“I guess blue is also good?” Grian hums, as Mumbo nods enthusiastically and darts back to the seller, taking out some of their coins to buy the jacket, the rope stretching between the two again instead of dangling. The Sunbird sighs, moving closer to Scar. “You think they’re okay?” He asks in a hushed whisper, looking at Mumbo and hoping that their senses are either not sharp enough right now, or completely out with them being so focused. 

“Gonna be honest, G, I don’t think they’re gonna be okay until this whole thing’s over. At least,” Scar admits with a cringe, speaking just as soft. “You know how they are with red in general. Red Week? This is their first Red Week outside without their dads. It’s not just color this year, they don’t have work or survival to distract them this time. I.. think they’re trying to distract themself with Scott instead, honestly.”

“Yeah, and I know I’m not one to point it out, but.. distractions for Mumbo are not always good,” Grian huffs sadly, his eyes locked on the Vampire. “Every time they find a distraction, it's fifty-fifty, and I don’t want them to accidentally spiral back into–” He grimaces. “–bad habits.”

“Me neither,” Scar mutters, before sighing. “Let’s just keep an eye on them when they let us, yeah? And.. trust them to come to us if they need us.”

“If they notice it before it’s too late,” Grian huffs bitterly, as Mumbo finally turns back to them, following the rope back to Scott. They always had that problem of not recognizing the signs that something was wrong before it was too late, before they were too far gone, or already drowning in consequences of their actions, their habits of dealing with their spirals. Who’s to say it’s not gonna repeat again? 

“Okay, maybe we can search for at least two or three pants?” Mumbo asks as soon as they’re back. “Two can work, I think. Yes, two shirts and two pants, great!”

“More smooth stuff, probably?” Scar questions, already poking around little racks of pants. “Do we think drawstrings or no drawstrings… Probably not? Those tend to have bunching at the waist which could be uncomfortable, hmm..”

“Okay, but they are also good to fidget with? Any type of string is good to fidget with, and–” They turn back to Scott for a second, remembering how they tend to scratch when nervous. Maybe they can help with that habit, considering that their claws are very sharp and can cut skin with no problem. “It would be good to give them something to fidget with, now that I think about it.. Not necessarily drawstring pants, but something ,” they murmur, looking around.

Scar gasps, spotting something in a stall a bit further away. “Oh. My gosh. You two keep looking for pants, I’ll be right back!” The Vex bolts away before anyone can protest, giggling excitedly.

Scott blinks, watching him go with a mildly confused stare. The stand he’s rushed to just looks like a table full of necklaces and colorful.. toys..? That man is so odd… 

“He found something to fidget with, I guess,” Grian snorts, shaking his head and turning back to the clothes. “Scott, maybe you see something you like? Another color that catches your eye and looks pleasant?”

“Well, they like blue and silver..” Mumbo hums with a nod. “And black is an okay color, and texture.. I don’t think they would enjoy jeans, so nothing rough..”

Scott’s ear flicks, and their eye scans the tables and racks again. They seem to stare for a bit, but then they see something, and in the boldest move they’ve made all day they nearly bolt to a rack in a nearby stall. They don’t seem to care about tugging Mumbo with them, half-rushing with single-minded focus on whatever it is they’ve seen. 

“Woah!” Mumbo yelps, following Scott as fast as they can, the rope tugging slightly painfully, before Scott halts and Mumbo almost falls over. “O-okay!” He murmurs, stumbling around and trying to find his balance again.

Grian behind them laughs at the duo, even catching Scar’s attention from the other stall, as the Sunbird slowly makes his way toward them. “Found something interesting, Scott?” He asks softly, standing by Mumbo’s side.

Scott doesn’t seem to hear him this time, reaching oh so slowly for something on the table they’ve stopped in front of. Fingerless gloves, made of what looks like silk? They’re a pink-ish purple, with a single thin black stripe at the wrists. Scott seems transfixed, holding them in both hands as if cradling something incredibly delicate, it hardly looks like they’re breathing.  

Grian nudges Mumbo slightly toward the seller, making the Vampire softly giggle, as he once again reaches for their money. Guess they are buying this too. “You want to put them on?” Grian asks, leaning closer to Scott and looking over the gloves. 

Scott swallows, hands shaking as they continue to simply stare. After what feels like ages, they finally, so very gently, slip on the gloves. They both slide on easily, as Scott dodges their own claws so they don’t even graze the fabric with the pointy appendages, before flexing their hands a couple times. Then they keep staring. They don’t move, holding their hands out in front of them and staring at the gloves for at least a minute.

.̵̛̺̦͐.̵̠̣̰̂ͅ.̶͕̜̇̏Ṱ̶͖̤͍̒ḩ̶̭̻͌e̷͇̣̔̀͜͝ÿ̵͖͎͜ ̴̜̪͋m̷̍̓͜a̶͉͓͑̑͊͑t̵̡̲̘̦̾̈c̴̱̠̀̓h̶̭̗̻̉͒̈̌ ̶͉̐́̂͊m̸̞̺̩̦̾ŷ̷̻͚̣͋ ̵͙͑͊̚ë̷̪́̏͗͂y̴̨̟̽ȩ̶̩̇̔̿̎s̶̬̺͐͆͌́.̷͎̣̙̞̐̏̕.̵̡̹̐͝ ̷̪̚͝O̶̢̮̳͚͗̈́ḧ̴͈̙̺́,̴̰͈̳̞̽͂ ̴̠̙͗͠Ä̸̳̘͚̬́l̶̙͈̫̔i̷̼̊ņ̶͍̎̓̀͠a̴̱͇͗̆̓͝ṙ̶̮̹ͅ.̵̻̃̈́̂̾.̴̝̈̅̌̕.̶̣̖̤̺̇̂͐͗

They’re startled into motion again when a single tear abruptly escapes their eye, inhaling sharply and hastily rubbing it off their cheek, a little rougher than strictly necessary. They swallow again, looking anywhere but at their.. companions. 

Grian’s smile falls, his breath hitching as soon as he sees the tear on Scott’s face. “Oh.. Scott..” He murmurs softly, trying to pull his smile back together. When Mumbo turns around from the seller, having paid for the gloves, they are caught off guard by the sudden change in the atmosphere. They raise an eyebrow at Grian, but the Sunbird just shakes his head. 

“I think the gloves suit you,” Grian finally says, with a gentle look, tilting his head at Scott. “They are yours now.”

Scott doesn’t respond, but Grian can assume they at least heard him. Their right hand moves back up to the crochet around their bicep, scratching around it again while continuing to stare into space.

“I found something!” Scar declares, returning to the three with a beaming smile. “Here, Scott!”

Scott blinks, eye snapping to Scar with a bit of a daze that wasn’t there before. They blink again, curious, and look down at what Scar is offering in his hand. Some sort of small, smooth wooden ring, with a sphere in the center rolling around slightly in Scar’s palm, only halted by the ring surrounding it. Scott blinks again. Again. Stares.

“It’s a fidget!” Scar chirps, undeterred. “The little ball in the middle rolls around, and you hold it by the ring! Give it a try!”

Scott glances up at Scar’s face, then back at the.. fidget. Slowly, they pluck the little object out of Scar’s hand, tilting their head as they figure out a good way to hold it with claws… They find something though, idly rolling the little ball around with their thumb. Their ears perk slightly.

Mumbo hums, sending a quick glance toward the crochet on Scott’s arm. They can see the skin around it slightly red, with little, almost invincible scratches. They pat Scar’s shoulder to show their appreciation, as Grian also grins at Scott, happy to know that they’ve made progress in at least one area. 

“Did you find any pants?” Scar asks, turning back to the duo, making both remember that no, they haven’t. 

“I can’t see anything good here, so let’s walk down the street, there are other stalls for clothing ahead, maybe we can check there,” Mumbo suggests, pointing toward the path down the street. 

“Sounds like a plan!” Grian agrees, glancing at the two shirts and the jacket draped over Scott’s arm. “Ah– Mumbo, I know you got the jacket but did you already pay for the shirts or-?”

“No, they didn’t,” the seller of said shirts snorts from two stalls away, making the other people around also laugh at the group, as Mumbo shrinks in themselves, cheeks slightly pink.

“Sorry, we wouldn’t leave without paying, I promi–”

“Nah, it’s fine,” the woman waves them off, leaning on the table. “I can see you were a bit distracted, and this is a very small village, can’t exactly get away with stealing stuff. I was giving you time with those gloves of yours, considering one of you needed it,” she hums, sending a glance toward Scott, before she turns back to Mumbo.

“Yes, ah– Thank you,” Mumbo says awkwardly, taking out the pouch. “How much.. do we owe you again?”

While Mumbo is paying for the shirts, Scar and Grian giggle at the Vampire, covering their mouths. “Look at them, they are gonna look like a tomato in a second,” Scar teases, knowing very well that Mumbo can hear it. In response, the poor guy lights up in red even more, making Grian burst into laughter. 

Scott manages a shaky huff, not quite a laugh, certainly not the giggle Owen got out of them days ago, but definitely a sign of quiet amusement. A good sign. Their attention quickly returns to the object in their hand though, rolling the ball around their palm and spinning it with their finger a few times. Clearly a good choice on Scar’s part.

Soon enough, a madly blushing, very embarrassed Mumbo has paid for the shirts, and the four set off again. It’s a similar procedure with the pants– a bit of trial and error with texture, and Scott seems to firmly skew toward black things, though Mumbo convinces them to get a pair of soft pastel blue ones as well. Scott doesn’t let anyone hold their things, hugging the folded up clothing to their chest with one arm while their free hand fidgets constantly with the ring-ball, seemingly protective of all of it.

At some point Mumbo suggests to get Scott their own bag, so they can keep all their stuff with them. If they are not giving them now, not a chance they will leave it in the closet in the hut either, so why not? Grian sighs heavily, looking down at their money pouch, while Mumbo is counting coins for the cheapest bag they could find. They really spent a lot today, and while he’s happy that Scott now has their own things, the work that awaits them to get all that money back.. Auf.

That’s when the Maze trio pops up out of nowhere, Apo jumping right behind Scar and scaring him out of his mind, as the Vex shrieks for the whole street to hear, making the Demon giggle in success. Scott growls, shoulders hunched as they squint at the Demon, clearly disgruntled by the scare. It’s a wonder they didn’t pounce on sight, honestly.. progress? Progress. 

Apo immediately puts her hands up in surrender, gulping. “That’s a friendly thing, don’t growl at me like that! Right, Scar?”

Scar giggles, holding onto his stomach, his heart slowly calming down from the scare. “Yes, Scott, don’t worry, it’s fine when friends do that, I promise.”

“I mean, not always, what if I have a weak heart?” Acho says with a snort, receiving a glare from the Demon. 

Scott grunts with one more suspicious glare of their own, before shuffling a bit closer to Mumbo, their fidget tucked between their thumb and pointer finger as they scratch at their forearm, crossed over the clothes hugged to their chest. Then they switch hands, their left scratching at their right wrist right around the rope. They don’t come close to the rope itself, actively avoiding grazing it with their claws, but they do scratch at their skin rather vigorously.

“I see you’re done with your temple visitation?” Grian turns back to the trio with a smile, hands on his hips.

“Yep, as Apo said, it didn't take long, we were quickly in and out, and the place? Beautiful,” Owen claps a hand on Apo’s shoulder, while the Demon nods enthusiastically. 

“Just a prayer, switch of my lucky rope, and we were out!” She says, before her smile falls just a bit. “I mean.. It usually takes longer than that with sacrifices and stuff, especially when you go to the temple with your family, but yeah..”

Mumbo looks away, his own hand moving toward the rope as it slowly descends down to his palm, scratching on the manila. “Yeah..” They whisper softly. It always takes more time when family is around. He would probably not be halfway through the shopping spree if his parents were anywhere in sight, nudging Mumbo around and asking his opinion on different stuff, before they buy it for the house. 

His family.. is very far away, isn't it? Very.. very far away. 

“Mumbo?”

He wonders how they are spending the Red Week this year.. or any past years honestly, after Mumbo was taken.

“..Mumbo?”

Boop.  

Mumbo blinks down at the hand in front of his face, as his eyes fall on the gloves they had just bought a few minutes earlier. Scott blinks at Mumbo, and the Vampire blinks back, the two of them staring at each other for a second, before Mumbo sighs heavily, and boops Scott in response.

“Sorry.. Got a bit carried away with my thoughts,” he says, awkwardly smiling back at the others, his face basically begging for them to not ask.  

“..That’s okay,” Grian softly assures them, glancing between his partner and Scott with a bittersweet sort of smile. Then he shakes it away, good wing fluffing for good measure, turning to the maze trio. “Alrighty then! Did you lot wanna have a look around? There’s lots of stuff ‘rounds about here, plenty to have a look at.”

“Do we.. have money for that?” Acho asks, cringing. “I mean..” Their eyes shift to Scott for a second, landing on the new bag that probably has new clothes inside. 

“I’m sure we can buy something next time,” Owen says with an awkward nod. If they are spending so much money on Scott, they have to save what’s left, they can’t exactly feed themselves properly if they spend everything on this flea market. 

“Yeah, I think it would be the best,” Scar agrees with a sad hum. There’s always a next time. “Maybe we go back to the tavern now? Others might also be going there soon.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Acho hums, sending one more subtle concerned glance at Mumbo, before the group starts making their way out of the market and back to the tavern to hopefully meet up with the others.

---

At some point, Mumbo doesn’t even try to talk to people anymore. As Tekla said, she and her family were inside the tavern when they arrived, Martyn, Joel and Jimmy following soon after, and the last two hours have been.. interesting. There are people talking in every direction he looks at, and the second he turns away, the conversation is completely lost on him every single time. Good Gods.

Joel has been running around the kitchen looking very stressed, which he didn’t understand, considering how that man loves cooking– but then Grian took a minute off to explain that back home Lizzie was the one cooking for the crowd, while Joel mostly did it just for them, because his brilliant cooking usually.. failed under stress.

“Stress-cooking was always her thing, not Joel’s,” Grian says with a snort, as Joel manages to accidentally drop a pot and then explode in screams toward no one in particular, as if one of them pushed him and forced him to drop it. 

They are almost done with all the preparations before they can settle down for a family dinner, the others already moving some of the tables together, making one big table on one side of the tavern for Tekla and her family, and another on the opposite for them, when someone tugs his shirt, forcing him turn around.

“Ah?” Mumbo meets eyes with Martyn, who looks uncharacteristically awkward and.. quiet. Since when is Martyn quiet?

“Hi, sorry, I–” The Siren cringes slightly, his tail behind him twitching nervously. “Can we.. talk? Alone?” The last question is followed by a suspicious glare toward Scott, who’s still tied to Mumbo by the rope and shuffling after him like a lost puppy.

“Ah! Yeah, yeah, of course,” Mumbo hums, suddenly very nervous, as he looks around the group of people in the kitchen. He swiftly moves toward the nearest figure he recognizes as his own, unties the rope around his own wrist, and quickly ties it around someone else’s. 

“Wha–?” Scar winces, looking down at the newly acquired rope on his wrist, and before he can protest, Mumbo darts away, tugging Martyn behind him. 

“Take care of Scott for me, for a bit!” Mumbo yells as they approach the door, and opening it, leaves the tavern. 

The streets are surprisingly.. empty. While people were still around just a few hours ago, now the market closed, most people were either in their homes, or at the temple, which meant that the village from the tavern looked abandoned. Mumbo lets go of Martyn's wrist, sitting down by the table outside and inviting the Siren to sit by his side.

“Is everything alright?” Mumbo asks gently, tilting his head, as Martyn finally takes his seat by his boyfriend. 

“..No,” Martyn sighs, curling his tail around himself and fidgeting with his jacket sleeves. He doesn’t even have the energy to sound angry. He just sounds tired. “No, Mumbo, everything’s not alright.”

“Oh?” Mumbo’s whole body goes tense, as he frowns at the Siren, his thoughts running wild. He can feel the anxiety settling in his guts, as he scratches on the leather of his gloves, his breath slightly shaking. “Okay.. Everything’s not alright.. Do you.. want to tell me why? So we can.. make it alright?” He asks, his voice small.

“Why’d you think I wanted to talk..?” Martyn mutters with a quiet snort, ear fins flicking. “..You didn’t talk to me this morning,” he starts, almost sheepish. “Maybe that’s a dumb thing to be upset about, but.. You always talk to me during breakfast. When I’m quiet, you always check up on me, even with just a glance and a little smile to make sure I’m okay, but you hardly even looked at me this morning. You.. You scared me last night, going up to that roof with Scott, you knew I was terrified, you knew I wouldn’t sleep while you were up there, which is fine! You need your little rituals, Mumbo, I get it, I just–” He grunts, rubbing at his eyes with a huff. “I couldn’t sleep. I was so anxious for you, and then you came back down this morning literally attached to Scott, and then you spent the entire morning without even a glance in my direction. It hurt.”

“I– didn’t? ” Mumbo asks, confused, as he blinks down at his hands. It’s weird, because Martyn is right, he always checks up on Martyn, but now.. “I.. didn’t notice.. that,” he admits, grimacing, before he sighs heavily, scratching even harder. Suddenly his whole body feels like it’s on fire, and his hand is so itchy . “I’m.. I’m sorry. I wasn’t actually.. planning this whole thing, it was a sudden thought that just.. happened. I guess I got a bit too invested, with this holiday I’m a little bit.. off right now, and.. I’m sorry. I can– I can ask someone else to take the rope for tomorrow, if it will make things better?” He suggests awkwardly, fidgeting with his fingers. “I just.. didn’t want them to be alone, and it all just spiraled from there, but it doesn’t have to be me, you know? I can.. ask someone else and.. we can spend time together, again.”

Martyn digs a fang into his lip, wringing his hands. “..I am.. willing to compromise, okay..?” He mutters, staring at his feet. “I.. I want to spend some time together, alright? But.. I’m starting to get that you lot are just.. attached to Scott, and there’s nothing I can do about it. I don’t like them even a little bit, but I can.. acknowledge that the shit that’s been done to them is.. a contributor to their actions. You.. I’d be fine with you still spending time around them, helping them like Grian is, but… Mumbo, I need you to promise me that if they fuck up, if they hurt you, you’re done. You leave them be, you stop. Please.”

“Okay..” Mumbo whispers, his eyes softening at the Siren. He takes a deep breath and allows himself to cup Martyn’s cheeks, forcing him to look back at him, their foreheads touching. “If they do anything to me, I will keep as much distance from them as possible, that’s a promise,” he says, his lips just slightly brushing Martyn’s forehead in a kiss. “I’m sorry. For making you worry like this, I know I’m a.. mess, right now..”

Martyn hums, pressing his own feather-light kiss to Mumbo’s nose. “I think you’ve got a right to be a mess. I forgive you, love. I’m..” He sighs. “...I’m sorry I can’t feel what you seem to feel for them. I know it frustrates the hell out of Grian.”

“Grian’s not right in his head either,” Mumbo says with a snort, once again bumping their foreheads together. “I think all of us are a mess right now, some more than the others. I don’t expect you to warm up to Scott so quickly, Martyn, I understand why you dislike them so much, and Grian shouldn’t expect it either. Take your time, don’t stop being your overprotective self, like it worked with the Maze trio, I’m sure in the end it will work with Scott too. This is.. new and weird, and needs more time than Grian thinks is needed.”

“Yeah,” Martyn hums, keeping their foreheads pressed together and letting himself breathe for a bit. He finally moves one of his hands, lacing his fingers together with Mumbo’s and squeezing gently. “I love you,” he murmurs.

Mumbo chuckles softly, placing a kiss on Martyn’s lips, as he leans just a bit away to be able to speak, whispering back, “I love you too, Sweetheart.”

Martyn huffs, grinning like an idiot, before moving his free hand up to cup Mumbo’s cheek, leaning in for another kiss. He presses them together, and lets himself get lost in Mumbo’s warmth.

---

“Let me know if you need anything, okay?” Martyn asks nervously, tail behind him twitching. It.. has been doing that a lot recently, which makes Mumbo even more ashamed. “I’m serious, if– if something happens, just scream, I’ll be there in a flash.”

“I know, love, I know,” Mumbo murmurs, planting a kiss on the Siren’s forehead. “Just.. I know you’re nervous, but.. At least try to sleep, okay? I’ll be alright, just like yesterday, and I’ll see you in the morning, I promise,” he says, placing even more kisses on Martyn’s face, making the man chuckle weakly.

“I– I’ll try.. Goodnight, Mumbo,” Martyn whispers, moving the Vampire’s hands to his cheeks, so Mumbo can cup them, giving a last kiss on the lips.

“Goodnight, Martyn,” he whispers back as soon as they break apart, Martyn moving back to his mat unsure, as the Vampire sighs heavily, sending a last glance at the others in the hut. 

He sees a soft, encouraging smile from Grian with a thumbs up, and smiling back in response, Mumbo finally turns around to face Scott. “I know we are tied together, but.. I’m gonna brush my teeth. Want to join me?” He asks, tilting his head.

Scott blinks, slowly nodding in response, scratching at their wrist around the rope. The fidget Scar got them is in the pouch attached to their belt, strapped to their thigh, having been put there hours earlier when the itch around their wrist became more than they could handle with the little wooden object. Not that they’ve said any of this– it’s been left up to interpretation by those who notice.

Mumbo guides them back to the bathroom, awkwardly standing side by side, as they brush their teeth together for the night, getting ready to sleep. Mumbo didn’t actually expect Scott to pick up stuff so quickly and go along with it, but it makes it easier, knowing that it’s not as lost of a cause as some of them thought. 

Soon enough, the brushes back on their place on top of the shelf, they walk around the mats on the floor, reaching for the exit door and finally leaving the hut. The red light that meets Mumbo as soon as he steps out of his safe space makes him shiver, clenching the rope in his head. “Okay..” He whispers to himself, as he slowly walks to the rock to the side of the hut, Scott following his footsteps, their new bag on their shoulder. 

He lets Scott climb the roof first, following them close by, as they move toward the single mat on the roof. As soon as Scott sits down on their mat, he points at the rope around their wrist with a questioning look, wordlessly asking permission to take it off. Getting a nod in response, Mumbo quickly works with the rope and unties it.

“Here we go,” he whispers gently, taking it off from his own wrist and letting the rope drop to the ground. As soon as it’s off, Mumbo sits in front of the mat and then flops down on his back, his head on the mat, just like the previous night. “Is this too soon to ask how you’re feeling?” He asks with a nervous chuckle. 

Scott blinks, rubbing carefully at their now-free wrist with their thumb, sticking it underneath the fingerless glove to run the pad of the finger over the little raised scratches. Then they move it, their right hand slowly signing, ‘W-E-I-R-D.’

“Because it’s all new and you don’t understand,” Mumbo says, more like a statement than a question, but still looks at Scott, waiting for something, either a disagreement or an affirmation. 

They hesitate, then nod. ‘C-H-E-S-T FEEL.. S-O-F-T,’ and boy do they look confused at their own wording, ‘SOMETIMES. WARM. W-E-I-R-D.’

“That’s good,” Mumbo hums, nodding his head. “Weird, but a good weird, you feel like that when you enjoy something, or feel happy, or something of that sort. You probably.. just liked today, so you feel.. Good.”

They hum softly, gently rubbing at their new gloves with a slight glaze in their eye. Then they bring their hand to their chin, signing a small, ‘THANK YOU.’

Mumbo doesn’t answer, his eyes moving back to the sky, toward the source of the red light. The moon looks even brighter today than it did yesterday, and Mumbo doesn’t understand what, but he feels like it’s doing something to him. Gods, he’s been very out of it since the start of the Red Week, and at night, under the light it just seems to be worse and–

He turns to his side toward Scott, as he opens his mouth to say something. For a second his throat clenches, not letting out a sound, and he can feel his whole body shuddering, before he finally finds strength in himself to ask. “I.. I know that this is a.. stupid.. question, but.. Do you.. miss it? The labs..” He hugs himself, a sudden cold piercing his body. He can’t even feel cold, so why–? “It’s just.. I always knew what to expect there, and I always had a project or two to hyperfixate on, but here.. I don’t know what to do with myself and my thoughts just.. I don’t think the others would be happy to hear them. You’re confused, and honestly? I’m.. I’m confused, too… I don’t understand..”

Scott doesn’t look up at the questioning, but it.. does think. Does it miss the labs? Does it miss the chain around its ankle? The bars less than a foot from its face, concrete walls on all other sides? The cold cell, the frigid floor it sat on for hours, days, months until its handlers had use of it? …No.

But does it miss its fellow Dogs? Does it miss those small moments of comradery, sitting in the cafeteria and simply existing with its friends? The sparse days when it was allowed out of its cell for training, an opportunity to get its blood flowing and just stop thinking for a while? Gemini? Tick? Myth? Oeca? Doc? Iasoni? Vincent? 

…

It doesn’t respond properly, but it does slump slightly, hugging its knees to its chest and resting its chin on top of them. It scratches its wrist, soothing an itch that isn’t there anymore, staring at the red moon. How is it meant to answer that question? It doesn’t know enough signs to be so intricate, but for the life of it, it can’t make itself speak.  

“Sorry..” Mumbo whispers, his eyes moving to the roof, realizing that the answer probably won’t come. “I shouldn’t have asked, you can ignore it, I was just.. thinking out loud. Forget it.” He sighs heavily, looking back at Scott for a second, before he turns away, his focus going back to the moon. 

“I’m glad you enjoyed today,” the Vampire adds, closing his eyes. “I hope we can make this happen again. Slowly but surely.. It will be better. I know it.”

Scott hums softly again, finally glancing at the Vampire for a moment. Better, huh?

Better…

‘YES,’ they finally sign, staring directly at Mumbo. ‘SOMETIMES. I M-I-S-S SOME P-A-R-T-S.’

Mumbo catches the signs from the corner of his vision, and smiles softly, turning back to Scott. “Yeah.. Yeah, me too..” He ignores the trembles of his body, ignores the weakness in his voice, and the itch in his hand, some kind of satisfaction immediately followed by guilt washing over him. 

Scott tilts their head slightly, still staring at the Vampire. Then they glance away, eye locking onto the folded up blanket right beside the mat, before they grab it and– instead of handing it to Mumbo, or doing anything even remotely normal with the thing– they flop it gently onto his head.

Mumbo doesn’t move for a second, his whole face buried under the blanket. A second passes by, and then another, and his shoulders start to tremble even more, quiet snorts escaping from under the cloth, followed by a muffled “Oh my gods…” before Mumbo finally takes the blanket off his face. “Thank you, Scott,” he says with a giggle, as he unfolds it, and drops half of it over himself, leaving the other for Scott and patting the roof by his side. “I have a work day tomorrow and I need to get up early, so, come on, let’s sleep.”

Scott blinks, visibly hesitating, scratching at their wrist again. They swallow, looking back up at Mumbo’s face, before tentatively signing, ‘HELP ME W-I-T-H SOMETHING FIRST?’ They glance down at their feet, clearly nervous to even be asking.

“Ah, yeah, of course,” Mumbo answers, slowly sitting up. 

They wring their hands for a moment, biting at the inside of their cheek hard, before wordlessly pointing at the collar strapped around their throat. They don’t look up. They seem ashamed.  

“Oh..” Mumbo murmurs, surprised, his bright red eyes going wide. “You.. want me to.. take it off?” He asks gently, tilting his head. “I can, if you want.”

Scott swallows again, nodding once, and only once. Their hands are trembling worse than earlier that day, the pointing hand falling before both claws dig into their arms, not quite hugging themself but coming pretty close. Their breathing is just the slightest bit faster than usual, eye just the slightest bit wider. For Scott? This is an image of utter terror.  

“Hey.. It’s okay, Scott, I promise,” Mumbo whispers, smiling at them softly. He gulps, feeling his own hands shaking, as he moves just a bit closer to Scott, his hands slowly moving to their throat. “I can.. cut it, but it will take some time, is that okay?” He asks, his hands frozen just a few inches from the collar. 

Scott nods again, jerky and quick, squeezing their eye shut. Their claws rake against their skin, bad enough to very nearly break it. Their breath hitches audibly when Mumbo’s hands move closer, and their claws finally draw tiny beads of black blood, the scent of it vaguely akin to the smell of a slightly rotted corpse.

For a second, Mumbo feels his whole body sway, his eyes blinking, as he tries his best to ignore the smell clawing down on his senses. Gods, this smell doesn’t remind him of anything good, and just makes his chest clench, his breathing heavier. He pushes through, because this needs to be done, because this will be good for Scott.

And so finally he comes in contact with the collar, and with his claws, starts to cut. As he said, it took a few minutes to finally cut through, the collar falling down on the roof, as Mumbo immediately moves his hands away from Scott, looking down at their bruised, angry red throat. Gods.

Scott takes a sharp breath, shrinking into themself immediately, making themself as small as possible. Their claws finally release their grip on their own arms, one of their hands moving up to touch their neck. They gasp softly, the sound barely audible, their hand flinching away the moment it presses just a bit on the bruised, irritated skin. Void, that has to hurt.

“Give it time,” Mumbo says softly, his unnaturally red eyes once again filled with obvious sadness. “It needs time to heal.. Maybe.. maybe we can get something from Jimmy? I’m sure he will have some sort of cream to deal with this, if you want.”

Scott hums noncommittally, taking a shaky breath. They finally look down at where they’ve drawn blood on their arms in their anxiety, huffing softly in frustration, before bringing one arm to their mouth and methodically licking the black stains away.

Mumbo flinches, immediately looking away, his nose all scrunched up, as he tries to ignore the way his guts just twisted inside him, his hand flaring up. He wants to scratch, and pull, and cut, and bite–

“I-I think it’s time for me to sleep,” he murmurs quietly, his voice small and shaking. “Yeah.. I–” He grimaces, going quiet. Moving back down on the floor, he covers himself with the blanket, and turns to his other side, his back to Scott. They.. have their own blanket, yeah, they can.. They can use it. He just needs to breathe.. just.. in and out. “Goodnight, Scott,” he whispers, closing his eyes, and hugging himself under the warm blanket. 

Hesitation. Then a softer hum, and Scott’s boot on the roof.

Drag drag tap. Drag drag drag. Drag drag drag. Drag tap tap. Drag tap. Tap tap. Drag drag tap. Tap tap tap tap. Drag. Pause… Drag drag. Tap tap drag. Drag drag. Drag tap tap tap. Drag drag drag.

Goodnight, Mumbo.

Notes:

Translations -
"They.. don't get it..."
"You aren't real," - "Why are you here? Why don't you leave me alone?"
"It's Red Saturday, little brother." - "Family day. 'Course I'm here."

“Oh wow, it’s been a while since you experienced anxiety. Look at you with the emotions!”
"Do normal people's teeth not clean themselves?"
"Huh. Weird... Hey, you're talking to me!"
"I'm a brother all day!"
"Maayyybeee..."
"'Cause I'm real, dummy."
"They're so nice, aren't they, Ali?"
"That's okay. Like he said, you will!"
"Spiraling again, Ali. Breathe."
"Do you wanna freak 'em out?"
"Oh my gosh, they booped ya! Ali, you got booped!"
"Don't even start again, bud, chill."
"I will boop you beyond the veil, don't test me!"
"The texture's overstimulating, Ali."
"I'm not- Oh, whatever."
"..Oh my gosh, do you like it?"
"Okay, okay, sheesh!"

"...They match my eyes.. Oh, Alinar..."

---
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Chapter 14: Because together we will always be alone

Notes:

The chapter title is from Eleanor Forte's cover of "Hole-Dwelling"

Tw/ Dehumanization, speciesism, blood, religion, heavy dissociation, panic attacks, SELF-HARM!!

Sunday’s morning is spent much like the previous, if a bit earlier. The Outsiders get ready for their day, get into early morning shenanigans like they always do, with the very quiet addition of Scott. The blue-haired Avian shuffles in after Mumbo again, brushing their teeth with him like Saturday, and Mumbo leaves them alone in the bathroom to change into their new clothes. A silent agreement is made among those that notice their bare throat– don’t bring attention to it.

Scott woke up earlier this morning feeling.. strange. Somehow it hadn’t fully processed its own request the previous night, and waking up to a sunrise without that familiar weight around its neck was.. weird. It made something in Scott’s chest tighten, giving it a sensation in its lungs that it can’t quite describe. It methodically changes into its new clothes now, finding itself.. relieved? Relieved, that the black shirt it’s been given has a tall neck of its own, the smooth fabric hugging their skin and concealing the atrocious bruising circling its throat. The silver pants it wears now are comfortable, and the blue jacket is.. good. The clothing does its job, and Scott’s less savory features are covered, so it is.. pleased.

“They let you take it off?” Grian whisper-yells at Mumbo, as soon as the bathroom door behind Scott shuts, leaving them inside by themself. Others also seem to be intrigued by that, shuffling closer. 

“I mean, yeah..” Mumbo whispers, rubbing his neck, as he looks around the group awkwardly. “They asked if I could do that before we went to sleep, so I took it off..”

“They asked for it,” Acho repeats, sending a frown toward Grian, who is staring at the Vampire with his jaw dropped.

“I– Wow, I didn’t think– Honestly, I thought it would take more time than this, but wow! You– You’re amazing, Mumbo!” Grian says in between hysterical giggles, as he hugs the Vampire, his hair tickling Mumbo’s neck, who chuckles in response.

“Thank you, Grian, I know I am, but it’s still nice to hear it sometimes!” He teases, hugging the Sunbird closer, with Scar giggling in the background.

“Hey! I tell you that all the time!” Martyn yelps, hands on his hips. 

“You’re my lover, it’s your duty, so it doesn’t count,” Mumbo says, rolling his eyes as Martyn huffs, smiling softly back at his boyfriend. 

“New guy is already taking up space, please I need to brush my teeth and get ready for the day,” Apo mumbles, standing near the bathroom and staring at the door. 

“Your fault for not doing that earlier,” Owen chuckles from the floor, as she seems to be already ready to leave.

“Yeah!” Scar exclaims, patting the Demon’s shoulder. “You knew we were going to the tavern today, should have known better!”

“The only reason why you woke up earlier than me is Grian,” Apo argues, sending a pout toward the Vex.

“Ya hear that?” Scar giggles, turning back to Owen and Acho. “She says you’re not doing well enough!” That earns him a hit in the shoulder.

“Next time I’ll try waking you up at least two hours before the shift, if you’re gonna waste your time like this,” Owen snorts, leaning away as soon as Apo looks back at him with a glare. 

“Gah, Grian you’re so lucky,” Joel complains under his breath, putting down his plate on the table, finished with his breakfast. “What did you say about us having no break today for lunch, Acho?”

“Ah! Yeah, it’s a very busy day in the village, and considering how the tavern closes much earlier, we won’t have a proper lunchtime, but she did mention taking at least a ten minute break in the kitchen so you can eat,” Acho confirms, remembering the schedule Tekla had given them two days ago, right after they finished their shift. 

“How am I lucky, I’m taking a break because I messed up my wing again,” Grian grumbles, looking at the Red Panda.

Acho between them slightly giggles, with a little twitch in their shoulders and– “Am I lucky or unlucky?” They twitch for a second more, before putting a hand over their mouth, staring down at the floor.

“Seriously?!” Mumbo exclaims, spreading his hands around, making everyone in the room wince. “After a whole year, that is what you picked up from me?!” He asks, his own shoulders trembling, as he tries to hold his laughter in.

Acho on the other hand bursts into giggles, hiding their face in their hands. “I’m sorryyyy–”

“Oh? Is that your phrase they picked up by accident?” Owen asks with a smile, and receiving a nod, chuckles awkwardly. “Do we want to know the context behind it?”

“No,” both Mumbo and Acho answer at the same time, looking away with their shoulders shaking. 

About another minute of light teasing passes before Scott finally shuffles out of the bathroom, fiddling with their sleeves and making their way to Mumbo, staring at the rope in his hand. They look back up at the Vampire’s face, tilting their head questioningly.

“Oh we picked well,” Scar hums with a satisfied nod, grinning at Scott’s new outfit. “The jacket was a good spot, Mumbo!”

“Blue is.. certainly their color,” Owen muses with a huff, shaking her head fondly and muttering what sounds like “Blue boy” with a soft snicker.

“Oh thank goodness,” Apo groans, practically bolting into the bathroom to hastily get ready for her day.

“You really gotta stop doing that,” Jimmy snorts.

“Ssshhhhut up!”

“Okay..” Mumbo whispers, looking at Scott, before he turns to the Sunbird. “Grian, since you’re on break–”

“I’ll be taking Scott duty, yes yes,” Grian nods, taking one end of the rope in his hand and tying it around his wrist.

Mumbo chuckles awkwardly, as he looks back at Scott. Getting a nod from them as a permission, he wraps the rope around their wrist, the rope tight on the jacket instead of their skin. He put two and two together, noticing how much they were scratching around the rope too, clearly uncomfortable with the texture, maybe.. Maybe it being on the jacket will help a bit. 

“Here you go,” he hums softly, Grian and Scott now tied to each other. 

Scott shuffles just a little closer to Grian when Mumbo’s done, looping the rope around their hand a couple times and gripping it tightly. They appear somehow more awkward around the Sunbird than they did with Mumbo yesterday, staring at their feet and fidgeting with the slightly frayed manila at their wrist. Their fingers twitch occasionally, clearly trying not to scratch.

“I’m headed to Cordelia’s, have a good day!” Jimmy chirps, shrugging his satchel onto his shoulder and moving to the door. “I’ll see you lot this evening for the lights!”

“The lights!” Apo exclaimed, running out of the bathroom. “Right! They are gonna do the lights at the temple, oh gods, we all have to go there, and by that I mean go inside maybe, put up a candle? Prayers and blessings are always more powerful when more people are involved!” She states, putting on her belt with its little pouch. 

“I’m not big with prayers, but why not,” Joel says, shrugging, as he throws his own bag over his shoulder. “Are we also leaving or–?”

Mumbo looks up at the clock on the wall and cringes. “We should, yeah, if we don’t move now, we are gonna be late, the tavern opens in fifteen minutes..”

“Best get moving then!” Acho agrees, slinging stars own bag over stars shoulders. “Don’t wanna keep Tekla waiting, she’ll kick our asses.”

“Have a good morning,” Martyn hums, moving to give the Vampire a peck on the cheek. “I’ll see you after lunch, yeah?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you at the tavern,” Mumbo whispers to his boyfriend, giving his own peck on the Siren’s cheek. “Good luck on the farm, don’t let a teenager bully you,” he teases, making Martyn snort.

“Shut up, Mumbo.”

“Onward!” Acho declares, taking the lead as the smaller group makes their way to the tavern for the day.

“What jobs are even available in the tavern?” Scar asks, ear flicking curiously while he walks next to Mumbo with a small bounce in his step. “‘Cause I dunno about you guys, but I’m not very good at cooking… I’m so clumsy I’d just burn everything I touch!”

“Well, you can work on taking and delivering the orders, or maybe washing dishes?” Mumbo suggests, tilting their head.

“Yeah, we can cook and put everything on the trays, and you can take it to the tables,” Acho agrees, nodding. “Usually only one or two stick to the kitchen, while the other two work outside, but we tend to switch a lot– this time around, there will be a lot of people, so some kind of organizing will be good.”

“So I’ll be like a waiter…” Scar mutters to himself, before a fanged grin practically splits his face in half. “Oh yay, that sounds fun!”

“I could be a dishwasher, if they need one,” Apo decides, tail swaying sluggishly behind her. “Sounds simple enough to learn on the time crunch we’ve got. I mean it’s just.. rinsing dishes and utensils, right..?”

“Probably. I think I’ll just go wherever I’m needed, to be honest,” Owen snorts with a shrug. “So long as I’m being helpful and I’m not in the way, I’m perfectly happy. I imagine avians aren’t the best to have in a small kitchen though…”

“Hey, all hands on deck, right?” Apo argues, giving a sort of worried scolding look to her friend. “I’m positive this Tekla person’s taken your wings into account. Basically this whole town knows about us by now, she’ll have thought about it, I promise.”

“If you say so,” Owen murmurs with a sigh, clearly not quite believing the Demon.

“Elene, one of the waiters, is an avian,” Acho jumps in, clapping the Sparrow’s shoulder. “She always has her jacket on, so her wings don’t spread around when panicked or excited, but otherwise Tekla never has a problem with her in the kitchen.”

“Yeah, she’s been.. surprisingly very accepting,” Mumbo hums, fidgeting with his claws. “She’s been very welcoming so far, even gave us food for free that was left by the end of the day, and let me leave the shift when I needed a break, she’s.. not bad.”

“..Good to know, then,” Owen sighs again, this time with a hesitant smile. “I’ll still just go where I’m needed though, I genuinely have no preference.”

“Well we can ask, ‘cause there it is!” Scar chirps, pointing at the tavern up ahead. “Man it never gets old seeing this place, even in passing, whoever built it is good.”

“You and your architecture,” Apo teases with a giggle.

“I appreciate a good building, Apo! That’s not a crime!”

“Buildings of all things–”

“There are some dang good ones in the world, alright!?”

“I agree with Scar, for a little village, the buildings here are very good,” Mumbo snickers, moving closer to the tavern. The noise from inside is already very overwhelming, and he sees even more decorations spread around, most of them on the walls or hanging from the ceiling. This.. wasn’t here yesterday. When did Tekla even have so much time to do all of this?

“Oh, I hate this place,” Acho whispers, looking around the hall horrified, all of the tables already filled by the villagers, while the waiters are circling in front of the kitchen, getting ready to start the day. “She should not have let them in before the start of the shift, this is gonna be a mess..” Mumbo chuckles nervously by stars side.

“Oh hey Acho! Hey Mumbo!” A tanned Merling greets with an enthusiastic wave, grinning with a mouth full of sharp teeth. “And company as well! Come in come in, mind the chaos, watch your step!”

“So many kids,” a young black-haired man groans, face buried in his hands while the blonde Half-Elf next to him pats his shoulder empathetically. “I’m gon’ drop somethin’.. I’m gon’ tumble and it’s gon’ be one o’ those little shits’ faults and I’m gonna get yelled at for it uuugggghhhh……”

“Also kindly ignore Preston, he’s in a mood today,” the Shark Merling snickers.

“I heard that Annamae!”

“Oof, bustin’ out the full name, sheesh, vibes received! Keep an eye on him, Hunter!”

The Half-Elf gives a thumbs up and a nervous grin, while the human they’re comforting just grumbles under his breath about not needin’ a damn babysitter, Anna, dear Blood–

Mumbo shifts awkwardly hearing those words, while he slowly enters the kitchen with the others. He was very aware of the beliefs of most of the waiters here, but it still made him feel strange every time.. He was mentioned.

“Let’s sacrifice our youngest,” Elene responds from inside the kitchen, her elbows on the barrels separating them from the hall and her black hair once again in the net, as she looks at the other waiters outside. She’s the only one that wears additional clothes over her red apron, as her wings are tucked under a black jacket, sticking out at the bottom.

“Yeah! Abi, you’re up!” Maia says, clapping the girl’s shoulder, making her squeak at everyone.

“Why am I the sacrifice for the children?! I’m not good with children! Send Wyatt to them!” She yelps, pointing toward her brother, who raises his eyebrow at her.

“You mean to say that I’m good with children? If so, I’m taking that as a compliment.”

Abigail looks at him for a second, squinting her eyes at him, before she turns away with a frown. “I take it back, don’t send him to the children, he will probably traumatize them in a ten second conversation.”

“There you go!” Wyatt says giddily, clapping her shoulder, while Abi punches his shoulder.

Tekla is also in the kitchen, leaning over the table and reading something out of her journal, frowning and biting down on her pen. Her black hair is up in a ponytail, and she’s wearing the same red apron as everyone else. 

“The weirdo entourage is here!” Annamae announces, scarred tail swaying enthusiastically as they make their way over to Maia, giving the Elf a little peck on the cheek. “Over half of ‘em, and we’re gettin’ two more ‘round lunch!”

“Weirdo entourage…” Owen whispers with a nervous, disbelieving giggle, their wings tucked as close as possible to their own back.

“Hello there!” Scar greets, waving happily with a still-wide fanged grin.

“Hi,” Apo huffs with a smaller wave of her own.

“Good morning, Tekla,” Mumbo hums, reaching for the little cabinet with their so-called red uniforms.

“Morning,” the tavern owner responds with a weary smile, her eyes darting toward the others. “You actually got them here, wow,” she awes, returning a small wave. “Good, this is gonna be a hard day, we need as many people as possible,” she hums, for a second looking down at her papers. 

Mumbo takes out the extra aprons, throwing them to the others before putting his on. “You asked for help, we delivered,” he jokes, looking around at all the boiling pots on the stoves, the food almost ready. “Did we.. come here late or something?” He asks, wondering and also tilting his head toward the hall, hinting at the amount of people already settled down.

“Nah, I was here for a while now, but you came on time,” Tekla answers, finally straightening up and leaving the journal on the table. “So, you all know what to do, or? I’m sure others won’t mind explaining a thing or two if needed.”

“We’ll take care of it Tek, go go!” Annamae shoos the owner playfully. “You’re busy! Do your owner things, we got this!”

“You can count on us!” Scar declares, that signature Scar^TM grin still wide and bright on his face as he hooks the apron over his neck, tying the back with a bit of fiddling.

“We’ll show them the ropes, no worries,” Acho hums, tying off their own apron.

Tekla sighs heavily, taking the journal and holding her hands on her hips. “Okay, I will be in the storage, probably until lunchtime, and after that I should be free to help– but if help will be needed before that, just tell me, and–” She turns back to Mumbo, her eyes softening. “If you need a break–”

“I know, Tekla,” the Vampire responds nervously, rubbing his neck. “I will say if anything comes up, I promise.”

The Owner nods, looking at the clock on the wall, before she announces that they have ten minutes before the official start of the shift. “Make sure to look at our menu,” she says, holding out a few little journals to the team. “In case you’re working outside, everything is marked if we have ingredients for it or not for the cooks to get the order done, little personal notebooks for the order papers are on the counter, each can take one, write it down and put it on the string above the counter, let the people inside do the rest.”

“Mumbo, you’re in the kitchen with us?” Elene asks, pointing at Maia behind her. They probably still remember the whole cut-his-finger-and-had-a-breakdown thing, which makes Mumbo grimace slightly. 

“Yes, I’m in the kitchen for today, gonna help with cooking as much as I can,” he answers with a nod. 

“I was gonna volunteer to help with dishwashing-?” Apo sheepishly speaks up, squeaking at the grab that the Shark makes for her hand.

“You’re with me then!” They chirp with a grin, half-dragging the startled Demon to their station.

“Yo, Vex,” Preston grunts from the door, his mismatched blue-purple eyes appearing exhausted already. “Yeah you look fun, c’mon, you’re gonna be on order takin’ with Hunter ‘n I.”

“Works for me!” Scar agrees easily, grabbing a notebook and moving to join the human and Half-Elf outside the kitchen.

“I’ll.. do anything?” Owen questions with an anxious chuckle. “Who, er.. Who needs help-?”

Wyatt and Abigail look at each other, a silent conversation happening between them, as Abi turns back to the Sparrow with a question. “Are you good with children?” She tilts her head, squinting at the older man. “You seem old enough to deal with children.” Wyatt by her side snorts, slapping a hand over his mouth.

Owen blinks, not looking offended in the slightest, just.. a bit confused. “Well.. I mean, sort of? I haven’t been around many kids that weren’t erm–” The Sparrow blinks again, pressing his lips in a thin line. “..Nevermind. But. Y-yeah, I can probably handle kids, sure..?”

“Ah yes, the secrets of your group,” Abi huffs, nodding her head to something.

“So mysterious,” Maia adds with a snort.

“Okay, so delivering the food it is!” Wyatt grins, moving closer to clap the Sparrow’s shoulder. “You’re with us then, try to balance all the trays and ignore the children running around you, or grabbing the food before you have time to put it down.”

“I remember how some kid.. like age four or something, ran between my legs from behind and scared me to death,” Abi huffs with a shudder. “I sent the whole tray flying.”

“And the water. And the food. And the utensils,” Anna lists with a toothy grin, pulling on gloves while Apo does the same. “That poor guy you splashed, Abi, he was so nice about it!”

“Shut uuuuup!” Abigail whines, hiding her face in her hands, making the others chuckle. 

“Oh boy,” Owen whispers, fighting to keep her feathers from puffing up. Her only experience with kids were the ones his father’s army buddies used to bring along, and they were the exact opposite of chaotic. Quiet and traumatized, just like her. Gods, she’s in trouble here isn’t she? The last time she was in a place like this she instinctively pulled a knife on a waitress that dropped a glass, ohh Gods this was a horrible idea–

“It’s okay,” Acho leans in to whisper in the Sparrow’s ear, briefly running soothing fingers through their feathers. “You got this, Owen. Take a breath and let me know if you need to get some air, alright? I know these places get you jittery. That offer to Mumbo goes for you too.”

“Alright,” Owen mutters, smiling shakily and ruffling the Fae’s hair. “Thanks, Acho.”

Acho hums with a small smile, smoothing out one last brown feather before moving away again, leaving the anxious Sparrow in the hands of the siblings.

“Well, I’m leaving you to it, now,” Tekla sighs, and with a little wave, moves toward the stairs on the end of the kitchen, leading to the second floor.

And as Scar and Owen were introduced to the menu of the place, the clock finally hit the needed hour, announcing the start of the shift. It took exactly a minute for the whole hall to dissolve into chaos, hands up and yelling for attention. The waiters running around and taking the orders, the cooks inside finally finishing with the food and putting them on the trays, announcing the orders ready. It might have been very chaotic in the beginning, but slowly the group got used to the tempo and finally managed to move around with the flow, the previous nervousness and panic slowly disappearing. 

As promised, Joel joined them two hours into the shift, after he and Lika closed down the bakery for the day, the woman rushing to the temple. Mumbo laughed slightly the second Joel was pushed into the kitchen confused and terrified of the people outside, and as much as he preferred to have Joel inside like a cook, the Panda was quickly pushed back into the hall with a red apron on, ready to help with the orders. 

Their worries didn’t last very long, as Martyn arrived just an hour later, taking his place by Mumbo’s side in front of the stove.

“Hi, love,” the Siren giggled, planting a quick kiss on the Vampire’s cheek, making him blush as the others in the kitchen chuckle, sending them grins and wiggly eyebrows. 

“We are at work, you are sickening,” Apo grumbles with a smile, washing the quickly arriving dirty dishes.

“Jealous much?” Martyn grins back, sticking his tongue out at the Demon, who rolls her eyes and looks away with a giggle.

“Oh hi Martyn,” Acho greets quickly, clipping several little papers next to others at once. “Warning you guys in advance, we just had a family of ten come in, be ready okay byyeee–”

“Eughhh boy,” Anna groans, scraping vigorously at a dry stain on the plate they’re holding. “How many of those ten do you guys think are just pretentious old people? It’s always the big families, maaannnn…”

“Four,” Owen answers faintly from the front, grabbing a plate and leaving again to deliver it. Anna just groans louder, trailing into a dramatic whine.

“Oof, I don’t envy them,” Martyn giggles at the duo, disappearing back into the hall, as he puts his apron and hairnet on. He quickly cleans his hands above Apo’s dishes, the Demon weakly hitting his fingers with the plate in her hands, and then takes a clean knife and moves toward the table, ready to chop some vegetables. 

“Did you eat before coming here?” Mumbo questions, getting a hum from the Siren.

“I’ll be working for what? Five hours? Decided that it will be easier to just eat before and then give all of you some time to eat. I’m sure half of you didn’t eat anything this morning, before we didn’t have any food.. Except for Joel, bastard got the last chicken.”

“Ah, yeah,” the Vampire nods, sending a quick glance toward the hall on the other side of the counter. “Might drag them here one by one in an hour so they can get a snack.”

Joel skids back into the kitchen not even two minutes later, wheezing for breath with nearly every muscle in his body visibly tense, pressing himself back against a wall. Hunter speed walks in a couple seconds later, hands shaking and approaching the Siren and Vampire.

“H-hi, um. I don’t uh-? I don’t know him and I don’t wanna mess up here, but his tail got grabbed and um. Y-yanked I think..? Some k-kid..” The Half-Elf stutters, sending anxious glances at the clearly panicking Red Panda. “I-I dunno how to calm him down-?”

“What the hell?!” Apo exclaims, turning back and splashing some water with dish soap around. 

“Good gods, some parents really need to teach their kids some manners,” Martyn grumbles, placing down the knife, as he quickly makes his way to the panicked Panda. “At least he ran away instead of attacking, his fight or flight reflexes are very ugly,” he chuckles weakly, as he stands next to Joel, but doesn’t try to go in for contact. “Hey man, you alright? Breathe, you’re fine, it was just a stupid kid.”

“I know,” Joel hisses, ears pinned to his hair. He’s still shaking, but it’s unclear if the tremble is from anxiety or rage. “Martyn it took everything in me not to punt that little fucker into a wall what the hell–”

Martyn snorts. “Yeah, I know that if it was an adult, you would have punched them no matter what, that kid was playing a dangerous game there.”

“If I did something like that as a kid, I would have been hit with a shoe or something for daring to disrespect my elders like that,” Apo grumbles, continuing with her dishes. “I know kids are mostly doing that out of interest, but they really should be taught not to touch people without asking first.”

“I don’t think we have a.. Panda hybrid or someone close to that around the town, or ever had any, so yeah, I would say it’s mostly interest..” Elene adds awkwardly, staring down into the pot. “Doesn’t make it any better, but still.”

“It’s fine, I’m fine, this is fine, everything’s fine,” Joel growls, just barely keeping his claws from digging gouges into the wall he’s still pressed back against. “Void, I’ve gotta go back out there don’t I-?”

“Give it a bit,” Preston drawls, grabbing a tray of plates from the window. “Tekla’s takin’ care of it. Give y’self a good five minutes tah calm down before comin’ back out here.” The man leaves again without waiting for a response, clearly also agitated by the day’s events so far.

“Sorry again!” Hunter rushes out an apology, bolting from the kitchen to get back to work.

Martyn takes out a little chair under the table for Joel, as he moves to the sink to get him some water. “Sit down, Joel, take a breather,” he hums, as Apo fills the glass of water, no words needed, and hands it to the Siren, who puts it down on the table for the Panda. “Don’t let that stupid kid get on your nerves.”

“Yeah, don’t allow kids to bully you, that’s a Martyn thing,” Apo teases from behind, sending an awkward smile to the Siren. 

“Shut up,” Martyn huffs with a grin, knowing that it’s a joke to lift the atmosphere. 

Joel just grunts, taking a swig of the water. “I’m not even mad about what the kid did to my blummin’ tail so much as I’m mad about–”

The Red Panda is interrupted by sudden shouting outside, very clearly a very angry Tekla, and Joel grunts again. “That. Good, she's taking care of it.”

“Wooaahhh, Tekla never yells,” Anna awes, eyes wide. “What’s going on out there??”

Joel sighs heavily, bordering on another growl. “Some bastard threw a glass at Scar. Then proceeded to call him Lurji Eshmak’i.”

“Excuse me?” The Merling whispers, shoulders immediately tensing.

“Oh, wow,” Mumbo blinked back at the Panda, his body tense. “Is Scar.. good out there? Why isn't he here? Maybe he should leave the hall for a bit, maybe he should–” He turns away from the stove, moving toward the exit, before Martyn grabs his hand. “Martyn, he needs to–”

“I know, Mumbo, calm down, you stopped breathing..” 

Mumbo blinks again, suddenly aware that he did stop breathing. As he takes in a sharp inhale, Martyn nods by his side. “He’s gonna leave if it’s too much for him, you know it. Just wait for a bit, come on,” he drags the Vampire back toward the table, pulling another chair for him, as Mumbo slowly sits down.

“Good celebration,” Apo mutters bitterly, gripping the fork in her hand so hard, she thinks she might have bent it a bit.

Anna sighs next to her, gently coaxing the utensil from her grip. The Merling is shaking just as much. “There are bound to be those types, even in a tight-knit town like this one and even on holidays. It still sucks, but.. unfortunately, ‘s just somethin’ we get used to.”

As Martyn suspected, Scar wanders in about a minute later, awkwardly holding a towel to his temple with a shaky smile. “Uhh.. hi? Tekla said you guys keep a first aid kit in here..?”

“Bloody hell, did the glass cut you?” Joel asks, already shaking with anger again.

“Ahh only a little, head wounds just bleed a ton!” Scar giggles, the airy noise sounding more like a wheeze.

Mumbo immediately stands up, darting toward the cabinet to grab the kit. “Scar, how are you right now? Do you need to stay here? Or go back to the hut? You can go back to Grian, if you want,” they ask nervously, moving back toward the Vex and giving up their chair for him to sit on, as they put the first aid kit down on the table. Their hands are shaking as they take out the bottle with familiar transparent liquid and a little cloth, ready to clean Scar’s wound.

“I’m okay Mumbo, just a rowdy customer,” Scar weakly assures the Vampire, sitting down and moving the towel away from his head with a grimace. There’s several long, thin cuts from his cheekbone to his hairline, all bleeding sluggishly. “Tekla’s sorting it out, I’ll be fine!”

“That piece of shit called you a blue devil, Scar,” Joel hisses, fur puffed in agitation. “You’re fluent in Georgian, you know that!”

“Well ‘course I do..!” The Vex giggles breathlessly, squeaking at the first swipe of a wet rag on his cuts. “It’s not the worst thing in the world to be called, Joel, I’m a Vex! I’m used to it!”

“Doesn’t mean you have tah be okay with it,” Anna murmurs, only half of her attention on the dishes she’s washing.

Martyn huffs, placing one hand on his hip and the other on top of his head. “I guess something like this was bound to happen,” he says, remembering Anna’s earlier words. “So far we always had somewhat good encounters, but we are in a small village, come on, it was expected,” he says bitterly, taking down a note from the string to look over a new order, while Mumbo helps Scar with the wound. “I mean, as much as I like Mary and Harley, even their kid makes very stereotypical comments toward me from time to time.”

“That isn’t appropriate, even more on a religious holiday,” Apo snarls, a bit.. aggressively cleaning the dishes. “They sit there celebrating, but then turn around and say shit like that? Disrespectful and hateful not only toward Scar, but also toward the Gods they are asking for blessings from.”

Mumbo just sighs heavily, bandaging the Vex’s head and covering all the cleaned wounds. 

“I’m okay, Apo,” Scar murmurs gently, glancing at the Demon. “This stuff just happens. I’m a bit surprised none of us have gotten something thrown at us before now, I mean.. y’know…” 

“It’s not okay,” Joel sighs, claws flexing around the glass he’s holding in a death grip. “You can be okay to your heart’s content, sure, but Apo’s right. This whole damn village worships a few Gods, and then they turn around being blatantly, violently racist. That shit should’ve left our world with the old Gods that preached it, not stayed. Not festered.”

“And you say you aren’t interested in religion,” Scar teases halfheartedly.

“Don’t have to be religious to tell the truth, sheesh,” Joel huffs, mouth just barely twitching into a half-smile.

“It’s just.. such a shitty thing to do..” Apo whispers, looking down at the rope bracelet around her wrist. “Red Week is mostly centered around Blood and Death, but Hearth is always also there, and Her symbol was the biggest in the temple, which means She’s one of the main gods in this village, and yet.. The word Devil first came as an insult toward my kind, and we are associated with fire, you want to guess who is also associated with fire? Hearth. She’s a patron Goddess for a lot of Demons for a reason, so saying shit like that when you and people around you worship Her? Racist and blasphemy, you’re just a bad person, and no follower at all.”

“Oh.. wow, you really went there,” Elene blinks at the Demon, food in front of her forgotten. 

Apo blushes, suddenly aware of all the eyes on her, and shrinks in herself. “Sorry..”

“Don’t be,” Anna hums, patting the Demon’s shoulder with a bittersweet smile. “Nothin’ but the truth in those worse, Apo. You got a way with ‘em, seems like– words.”

Scar hums, giving Apo the gentlest of smiles. “It’s nice to see you so passionate about something. I really like this side of you, Apo.” The Demon in response goes even more red, staring down into the sink embarrassed. 

“As you should,” Acho quips from the window, grabbing a tray. “Scar, Joel– Tekla kicked out those shitstains, alright? We’re taking care of things out here, so only come back if you’re ready, capiche?”

“Gotcha!” Scar chirps, already seeming in slightly higher spirits after Apo’s rant.

“Yeah yeah, got it,” Joel grumbles, taking one last swig of water before staring at the glass. “..I think I scratched the glass. Ugh.”

“Give it ‘ere,” Anna giggles, walking over to snatch the glass before moving back to their station next to Apo.

“We are just halfway into the shift, and it has been the worst one yet,” Mumbo mutters bitterly, putting the first aid kit back into the cabinet. “Also, Scar, I would use this break to eat something, you really should.”

“Oh yeah, and then we can maybe drag Owen here, is Owen alright out there?” Apo asks awkwardly, looking up at them, the previous redness no longer visible on her face. Seeing how both Scar and Joel were now here after a very bad situation, it made her worried, considering how the Sparrow was nervous about working here.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Maia tells her, grinning. “Abi and Wyatt might be the youngest, but trust me, they know how to bite back if needed, your friend is in good hands.”

“I’ll send ‘im in here in a couple minutes,” Joel decides with a sigh, raking his claws through his hair. “If I go back out there now I might actually shank someone.”

“Well we wouldn’t want that!” Scar laughs, gratefully snagging a little tied-off bag of jerky that the group set aside earlier for an easy snack.

“Best get to work now,” Martyn hums, moving back to the stove now that there’s nothing to worry himself over too much. “I doubt the energy out there will die down anytime soon, and we’ve still got.. what, half a shift? Or do we close early today?”

“We are closing at seven,” Mumbo reminded him, still sending nervous glances toward the Vex. Scar tends to.. worry him a lot.

Mumbo wouldn’t call the man naive , he was far from it. Scar was very cunning and aware of things most of the time, if someone was good in their group with reading people and understanding the situation, it was mostly him. Scar had a way with words and actions and knew how to keep himself afloat, and yet despite that, he tended to be so.. cheery most of the time. He saw good in a lot of people, even if they wronged him, that’s why he was the first one to suggest not killing Scott. Scar was just.. too good for the others. Mumbo was afraid that one day, that side of the Vex would bring him nothing but bad news.

Mumbo winces, his thoughts interrupted by a hand on his shoulder. As he turns to his right, he can see Martyn looking back at him. He can see the worry and the sadness in his eyes, and it makes Mumbo sigh heavily, shaking his head. 

He’s alright. Everything is alright. 

He turns back to the pots, suddenly aware that one of them is already boiling. He should go back to work. There’s a long… very long day ahead.

---

The sun hasn’t even set yet, and the temple is pure chaos. Kids of all ages and sizes running around high on sugar, exasperated parents that are either still futilely chasing their little menaces or have given up completely. Most of the massive collection of the village is human, though some hybrids are dotted around the groupings, either keeping to themselves or engaging in friendly chatter. It’s a small village, but the place gets so lively with everyone around.

Apo had a brief, wordless exchange with a teenage Demon as they made their way to their spot for the evening, no more than a small gasp from the younger and a mutual point, when the two recognized the rope bracelets around each other’s wrist. The Demon seems pleased after that interaction, which the others are happy to see.

Scott is still tied to Grian, looking just as awkward as they did that morning. Such a big crowd has, predictably, earned them several stares from kids and adults alike– they don’t seem to care, or hardly even notice, but Mumbo and Grian try and ward them off anyway. It’s one thing to be known as the visiting weirdos, but the more hostile staring is.. less than welcome. Thankfully, those who know them also scold companions that let their eyes linger a bit too long. Jimmy even sees Cordelia straight-up whack someone over the head for loudly commenting on Scott’s eye, which gets a startled chuckle from the Canary. It’s pleasant, all things considered.

“Oh my Gods, they’re doing the thing!” Apo exclaims, grabbing Acho’s hand and tugging the group to the other side of the small temple island. Just a few meters from the white bridge, there’s a giant open space where the market usually is, now surrounded by little food stands. In the middle of the chaos, there is a bonfire, surrounded by the laughter and screaming of the children. She can see the same teenager from before also circling the bonfire with the others.

“What thing?” Scar asks, trailing with the group and looking around to see children throwing the sticks into the fire to light it up even more. 

Owen winces, going pale. “Oh is this the chia thing you were talking about?” Acho by her side snorts, also eyeing the fire.

“Chiakokonobana, Owen, it’s not that hard to remember!” Apo teases, darting forward, closer to the fire.

“Yeah.. silly me,” the Sparrow sighs, following hesitantly and standing a good few meters away from the fire. “This tradition scares me.”

Mumbo tilts his head curiously, blinking at the fire. He.. doesn’t know anything about said tradition, he’s pretty sure it’s the first time he even heard that name. He has learned a few religious holidays, especially the ones revolving around the Blood God, but he never actively participated in them. He always tried to avoid anything close to red , but his parents didn’t want him to miss the joy that some of the holidays brought, so they would celebrate their own family day of the Red Week. They would just shut the doors and stay inside for the next four days while the festival outside happened, and they would spend time together. Maybe that’s why he never heard that name? Was it even connected to Bloo-

“It’s a Hearth thing, right?” Acho asks, turning back to Owen, who nods in response.

Ah, well.. He guesses not. 

“Oh I think I’ve heard of this actually!” Scar gasps, ears flapping excitedly. “Oh gosh I might be mixing it up with something else, but isn’t this like– Y-you take turns jumping over the fire to burn away bad luck or something? Right??”

“Or through it in some cases,” Owen mutters with a shudder.

Acho chuckles, looking back at the excited Apo, who now also stands in front of the bonfire, ready to join once it starts. “Most of the Demons, especially the full blooded ones are fire resistant, so instead of jumping over it, they jump through it, so the fire can be more effective.”

“Oh, wow,” Mumbo awes, his eyes darting toward the fire.

“I’m gonna pass,” Owen deadpans, even going so far as taking a physical step back. “Me and fire don’t mix. So glad Apo enjoys it but nnnnope–”

“Fire doesn’t mix with anyone but Netherborn species, soooo…” Joel teases, grinning. He snorts at the responding glare, putting his hands up in surrender. “Kidding! It’s a joke!”

“Can anybody do it? Anybody can do it right..?” Scar asks, eyes sparkling. “I mean I don’t wanna intrude if it’s just for people that worship the Hearth or something-?”

As if Apo heard the whole conversation happen, she rushes back to the group, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Who is up to join me? This thing is usually for the teens, but I’ve seen a lot of adults do it back in the village, so why not! I’ve done it sooo many times before, gods, I missed the feeling!”

“I thought we had enough of an adrenaline rush in our lives, but I guess we were lacking the fire,” Martyn jokes with a  snort. “I agree with Owen, I’m not good with fire either for many obvious reasons, so I’m out unfortunately.”

Mumbo tilts his head, repeating Scar’s question now that Apo is here to hear it. “I guess it’s not just a Hearth’s followers thing, then?”

The Demon shakes her head, looking back at the fire. “No, Hearth is very welcoming to other people too– by jumping over or through the fire, you basically embrace Her for the night and She embraces you back, that’s just how things work for Her. You don’t have to be Her follower, just.. Open your heart for the night.”

“I can do the thing then?” Scar excitedly clarifies, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Apo it looks so fun can I can I can I–”

“Sounds like you can, bud,” Grian chuckles, shaking his head fondly. “I’ll sit this out too though, thanks.”

“I may give it a try..” Jimmy muses, glancing back at his wings. “I mean if I lift my wings up maybe..?”

“I’m not gonna risk it, my fur is way too flammable,” Joel mutters with a grunt, tail swishing. “Looks fun, but I’d rather not have a charred tail.”

“I think I’ll join you,” Acho decides. “Looks fun.”

“You can do it, Jimmy! If your wings catch on fire, I’m here to help!” Apo says with a grin, as she quickly turns around and darts toward the others in front of the fire. “Come on, guys! Move, move!”

Mumbo glances toward Jimmy with a nervous chuckle, before he follows the Demon. “I was told I jump well with my tall lanky legs.” Grian behind them snorts, putting a hand over his mouth. 

“It’s true!” Scar agrees, immediately giggling. If it weren’t for the bandage still wrapped around his head, he’d look the happiest he’s ever been. “It’s not a bad thing, Jumbolio, don’t you worryyyy!”

“Jumbolio…” Acho mutters, thoroughly amused. “I know you’ve got your nicknames, Scar, but where on earth did that one come from?”

“Oh gods..” Mumbo sighs heavily, rubbing his eyes.

Scar breaks into more giggles, these with a particular edge of mischief and mixed with little wheezes. “Oh gosh I forgot you guys don’t know about that!”

“They don’t know about Jumbo?!” Jimmy gasps.

“You know about Jumbo??” Scar asks, his grin now very confused.

“Ah–” Jimmy chokes, feathers puffing. “Erm. Y-yeah-?”

Scar squints a bit, but lets it go, swerving his attention back to Acho. “See, okay, when I first met Mumbo he was goin’ by a little bit of an alias! Just ‘cause he didn’t want attention getting back to his family, yeah? So he used the surname Jumbo.”

“Mumbo Jumbo,” Acho deadpans, visibly holding back laughter. “Like the saying-?”

“Like the saying!” Scar cackles. “What’s even worse is that it was literally his first surname though, like before he got adopted? His name was Mumbo Jumbo. It’s an affectionate nickname now, but only Grian and I are allowed to use it!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Mumbo says fondly, rolling his eyes. “You can call me a bunch of gibberish.”

“Honestly? I’ve known you for a year, and sometimes I still don’t understand a word you say,” Apo confesses, looking back at the group, as they finally stand closer to the fire. “I swear that a few days ago you were talking about the multiverse? I blanked out like.. four sentences in.”

“Oh, trust me, it’s even hard for us to keep up with him sometimes,” Grian admits with a chuckle.

“You will never be able to comprehend my genius brian, what can I say,” Mumbo hums, followed by a giggle as Grian kicks at his leg. 

“Yeah somehow their rambling gets harder to understand the more nervous they are,” Scar muses. “One time they brought me down from a panic attack by ranting about freakin’ Magic Theory. I understood absolutely nothing but it helped! Somehow!”

“Mumbo ranting about Magic Theory is the most out-of-left-field thing I’ve heard in a while, what??” Acho questions between surprised giggles. “Why magic of all things?”

“I just picked a topic and stuck to it okay!?” The Vampire whines. “Scar likes magic! It was the first thing I could think of! We’d only been friends for like two weeks!”

“Oh god, this is so embarrassing to admit, but your gibberish was actually the reason why I wanted to get close to you in the first place?” Martyn jumps in, laughing and his face going red. “You supplied our team with weapons and such, and I remember how you got me a bomb once and then went on a half hour rant about how to use it, and how to be careful so it doesn’t explode in my bag or something; I swear you repeated the same sentence at least four or five times the whole conversation, you were rambling.” 

“Shuuut,” Mumbo whines, the tips of his ears going red, as he hides his face behind his hands. “I was panicking, okay?! Also, seriously?! That’s what caught your attention?”

“Yep,” Martyn admits with a pop, clapping Mumbo’s shoulder. “You were very funny and cute, and I went for it.”

“You two make me sick,” Scar drawls, but he’s grinning anyway. 

“Okay this is as far as we go I think,” Joel snorts, standing far enough away from the bonfire to be out of the way while still feeling its warmth. “You lot have fun.”

“Gods that looks so dangerous,” Owen croaks, shoulders hunched and wings pulled close. “That is a massive bonfire, oh my Void–”

“It’s fiiiine,” Acho soothes, patting the Sparrow’s shoulder. “We’ll be fine, and you can stay over here, win-win!”

“..Owen are you afraid of fire?” Jimmy murmurs, tilting his head worriedly. “You don’t need to be so close if–”

“I’m fine here, thanks,” Owen wheezes, crossing her arms and digging her claws into them. “I’m good. ‘S fine. So long as I’m not jumping through the bloody fire I’ll be fine.”

At this point Apo is too far to hear the conversation, as he asks a few questions around, waiting for the others. Fire isn’t as high as she’s used to, but honestly? She lived with a lot of Demons by her side, which is a surprise considering she was born and raised in a fishing village, so it was easy to light up the fire as much as they could so it would tower over them. Now it was just small enough to jump over it. 

“Here we gooo!” One of the kids screams, as he darts toward the fire and jumps over it, people around the bonfire cheering and clapping, as Apo also dissolves into happy giggles. She missed this.

“Oh Gods,” Mumbo mutters again, standing by Apo’s side. 

“That looks so fun!” Scar squeals, practically hopping up and down off the actual ground by this point. “I wonder if I ever did this as a kid? Vex are more closely related to Fae than Demons so probably not… But what if?!”

“Maybe,” Acho shrugs with a chuckle. “Shame you can’t remember if you did.”

“Hey that’s what new memories are for!” Scar reminds the Fae, still grinning ear to ear. “..I probably should’ve asked before, but Mumbo, are my braces at risk if I jump over the fire..?”

“Shouldn’t be,” the Vampire hums. “The metal shouldn’t heat enough with a hop over a flame, even a large one. You should be good to go, Scar.”

“I’m next! I’m next!” Apo exclaims, running forward. She smirks to herself, as she brings her hands up and in a second, the fire rises up, towering the people and making them gasp. Some people take a step back, glaring at the Demon, but she doesn’t give them any attention, as she darts forward and jumps through the fire. 

Half of the group winces, especially Owen, who pales as soon as Apo disappears into the flames– but the Demon immediately lands on the other side, bits of fire following her hair and tail as it slowly dies down, her charmed clothes unaffected. She turns around to bring the fire down, but before she can do that, the Demon from before follows her, landing in front of her with a delighted giggle. Smiling, she bumps fists with the younger, and then brings the fire down to its previous state, letting the other kids continue.

“Come on guys! You can do it!” Apo encourages them from the other side.

Scar giggles excitedly and immediately follows Apo’s lead, jumping over the fire with a squeal and landing with only a slight stumble, his braces giving a single little clacking noise. “Ahaha that’s so fun!!”

Acho snickers, following quickly with a much smoother landing, rolling stars shoulders. “I feel lighter already, strangely enough.”

“It has that effect,” the Demon next to Apo agrees, an elated grin on their face while their tail swishes excitedly. “Goddess Hearth is so kind, She burns the rot away with just a jump through Her flame! Or over in your case.. Either way, it’s a great feeling.”

“Oh boy,” Jimmy huffs, lifting his wings up and out of the way best he can, before taking his own leap over the bonfire. “Oh jeez-! Stuck the landing, phew!”

Apo giggles at them, before her eyes move to the others. “Mumbo, come on!” She calls out, waving her hands. 

“This is– okay, we’ve done things more dangerous than this, this is fine,” Mumbo grumbles before he takes off and jumps over the fire with a stumble, spreading his hands and trying to keep the balance. “Oh gods–”

“You really have long legs, I envy you,” Apo says with a snort, as the Vampire finally finds the balance and straightens up, responding with a “har har.”

Martyn giggles at his boyfriend from the other side, looking back at the others, before his eyes fall on Grian. He grimaces slightly, noticing Scott behind him, but as promised, he tries his best to ignore it. “Grian, you want to try? I’m sure you and Scott can jump together, I’m sure Scott would use a spirit cleansing ritual,” he teases, Owen by his side immediately grimacing. 

“Ah– I’d rather not, I’m good,” Grian declines with a nervous chuckle, head wings giving a little flap. He very pointedly chooses to ignore the latter half of that second sentence. “Can’t really lift my left wing out of the way, and I’d rather not risk it, y’know? I’m alright here.”

“What’s with the blue guy anyway?” A young Demon abruptly asks, gazing up curiously at Scott. The Avian stares back, a small tilt to their head.

“You can’t just call ‘im blue guy, that’s rude,” another Demon kid argues, swatting the first kid’s arms.

“But he’s blue! Blue eye, blue hair!”

“Fish guy just said his name is Scott.”

“Calling him fish guy is SO much worse than calling him blue guy! That’s so rude!”

“Oookay, time to get you two back to mom,” the teenager next to Apo moves, grabbing both younger ones– presumably their siblings– by the hand and dragging them away. “I am so sorry! Happy Red Week, enjoy the lights!”

Martyn grimaces slightly, crossing his hands over his chest, as he stares at the ground, trying to ignore the kid’s comment. Usually he would say a joke or two, but this is.. too early. He’s surprised when Mumbo suddenly appears by his side, taking his hand and intertwining their fingers; but it makes his heart skip a beat, and he looks up at the Vampire, slightly nervous and flustered. This is normal.. This is such normal behavior for them, so why was it so surprising? Why did he not expect this to happen?

“You okay?” Mumbo whispers, his grip tightening, as he looks down at the Siren, his eyes soft. 

“Yeah,” Martyn whispers back, squeezing the Vampire’s hand in response. “I’m okay.”

“Come on, maybe we should get some food or sweets, and then I think the lights will be in half an hour or so?” Owen says, looking up at the sky and noticing how it’s getting darker, dark enough for the light show. 

“Yeah! I saw chocolate somewhere here, I want it!” Apo exclaims, taking Scar’s hand and darting toward the stalls.

“Chocolate!” Scar cheers just as enthusiastically, gladly letting himself be dragged alongside the happy Demon. Owen shakes their head fondly, following at a much calmer pace with Acho right beside them.

“Ooo, I saw a Churchkhela stand, c’mon c’mon!” Jimmy giddily takes Joel’s hand and pulls him to the food stands, the Red Panda stumbling after him with an indignant squawk.

“I’ll go find us a spot!” Grian shouts after his retreating friends, snickering. Then he turns and, with a miniscule coaxing tug of the rope, leads Scott to an emptier spot for the group to eventually settle and watch the light show.

Scott is feeling many things it isn’t meant to feel, and has been doing so since this morning. That weird twisty feeling in its chest has grown worse as the day passed, and has seemed to spike around so many people. This place is loud, louder than the market was yesterday, and it makes something in Scott’s gut feel like sinking. Its heart feels like it’s in its throat, which it knows isn’t possible but that’s the sensation and it’s so strange.

It’s felt this before. Many times. It’s had days in which it’s woken up with a knot in its stomach and less air in its lungs, but it’s never been able to do anything about it. What is there to do? It is being ridiculous again, being childish again. Except it doesn’t feel insignificant, because its breath hitches slightly with every screech of children, and its chest lurches with every sudden surge of noise in the area.

The eyes are also unsettling, in a way. Scott is used to being stared at in numerous ways, of course, but for some Void-forsaken reason that it simply cannot comprehend, the eyes today make it want to duck under or behind something like it’s eight years old and hiding under tables from the doctors again because Ev said to put up a fight and that’s what he did.  

Its heart is racing, and it doesn’t like it. It doesn’t like this one bit. It doesn’t like simply sitting down in the grass with Grian, still tied to him with that gods damned rope that Scott wants to rip off with its teeth. It doesn’t like waiting for the others to join them, for the noise to dip and spike and dip again as the red moon rises gradually in the sky. It doesn’t like that its vision is tinted red, just like the last two nights, and it doesn’t like the mindless chatter as they all wait for something. All of it melds into buzzing in Scott’s ears, incoherent, indecipherable. It doesn’t want to decipher any of it. It wants to leave. It wants to go back to the roof and pretend it isn’t a monster, because there’s a Vampire next to it that feels safe and sounds happy to be around it. Something it cannot quite fathom, but something that.. feels good.  

Instead it is here, in the grass, under the red moon, the buzzing in its ears its only company as it waits.  

“Hey?” Grian calls out with a hushed whisper, tilting his head and sadly staring down at Scott. “You alright there? Do you want something? Food or water maybe? Do you want to see the food stalls too?” He asks hesitantly, pointing toward the others, who are walking between stalls, looking around. There seem to be conversations happening, as Scar and Apo giggle to each other about something, and in another group Martyn bursts out laughing, while holding onto Mumbo, with the others trailing behind them. 

Scott simply shakes their head, sitting cross-legged and perfectly still on the grass, staring ahead at.. possibly nothing, honestly. It’s pretty obvious they’re half zoned out, or something akin to that. Except every time there’s a crackle of flame from one of the bonfires nearby, or a sudden excited screaming from some random kid, or even just a random surge in the noise of the temple, Scott’s body jerks. Just the slightest movement, a small flinch, accompanied by a tiny hitch in their breath. Every sudden noise yields the same result.

Grian’s face falls recognizing the signs, as he sighs heavily and turns back to the people. Maybe he can ask the others to leave.. they can see the lights back from the hut, right? They don't have to be here in the center of the village with all the people around. Maybe…

“We got snacks!” Jimmy calls out with a wide smile, as he and the rest of the group finally approach the two, spreading around the space and flopping down. 

“I don't think we've spent so much money in four months, compared to these last three days, this is terrifying..” Mumbo mutters, looking into the pouch and counting how much they have left.

“You.. sure about that?” Grian asks skeptically, raising an eyebrow. Mumbo is one of those oh-but-we-might-need-this type of people, which is why sending them shopping is always a bad idea. The second they see something somewhat useful, oh you know they are buying it! 

“Yeah, I'm sure,” Mumbo states, not even looking up from the coins, as Scar giggles, sending a leave him be glance toward Grian.

“Oh, come on, we don't usually spend money on fun, so why not?” Apo mutters. Laying down on the grass and staring up at the sky. “We can sacrifice some money for a day or two to enjoy our time. This week? It's not normal for us and you know it, and if you ask me, I think we needed this.”

“Yeah,” Owen hums with a nod. “Being where we were before the run, and now being on the run itself.. we need to relax from time to time, right?”

“Alright, alright, point proven and taken,” Grian sighs with a light chuckle.

“I mean it is a holiday anyway, we’re not gonna be spending this much on a regular basis,” Jimmy points out, picking a bug out of Joel’s tail. “..I certainly hope not, at least. It has been a while since we’ve stayed in a village this long.”

“Oh gosh, yeah, we stayed in the Cliffs’ capital for like.. three weeks, right?” Joel wonders aloud. “Had to run when STARR started sending assassins after us?”

“Man, the old old days,” Acho muses, lounging back against Owen’s side. “Like really late April, just over a month of running, dude we were so awkward around each other it’s almost laughable.”

“Been nearly a year since,” Owen nods along. “Just over a year of running at all.”

“You know, now that Joel mentioned that..” Mumbo grimaces slightly, crossing his legs and putting his hands on his knees. “We've been in this village for so long and yet nothing.. did they just.. stop sending assassins toward us? Did they give up because Scott couldn't get us? Or do they–” He winces, looking away from Scott.

“Or do they hope that Scott will still kill us,” Martyn voices the question instead, making Mumbo flinch again, staring down at the ground in shame. 

It's not that Mumbo believes that, but the idea of STARR still thinking like that… No, he refuses to believe that Scott will hurt them. They had opportunity, and yet here they are sitting by their side, with the rope on that they agreed to. There's no way Scott is going against them anymore.

“You're.. right, maybe we should.. move soon,” Apo suggests hesitantly, her eyes suddenly sad, as she hugs her knees to her chest, looking back at the people. “I like this place…”

“Me too,” Scar hums, pulling the Demon into a side hug. “But.. we were never gonna be able to stay… It sucks, but we all know it. We.. We run. We don’t stay…”

“What if we did..?” Acho whispers, also looking out at the people. “We’ve handled what they’ve thrown at us.. A-and Scott’s the best of them right, if they’re not–”

“There are other Dogs,” Owen murmurs, ears folded back. “Others on their skill level. Besides, if we stay and STARR does end up sending another.. we’d be putting this entire village at risk. I love it here, I’m sure we all do, but.. we can’t. We’d risk the lives of every single person in this village. Scott is.. an enigma, when it comes to mercy.”

Scott does that tiny flinch again, claws flexing against their sleeves. They stare at the grass, wordless as always.

“I.. don't want to stay,” Mumbo whispers with a flinch of his own, staring down at the ground. “Don't get me wrong, I’d like to stop running, but.. I–” He grimaces, putting his hands together, the light from the moon making his usually pale skin seem red. “I have a family I need to go back to. I have to go home.”

Apo frowns at the ground, trying to fight away the tears. Mumbo is lucky. He is very lucky. 

Martyn sighs heavily, leaning to the side to put his head on the Vampires shoulder, in an attempt to give him some comfort. It's always family, isn't it? Mumbo missing his home isn't news for any of them, he has talked about it many times before. Martyn just wishes they could speed up this process. He doesn't want to stay here, he wants to get Mumbo back home. He will meet his parents and maybe, just maybe, he will…

A nice thought. A good fantasy and hope to have.

“I’ve got a very cross wife to report back to,” Joel deadpans, though his eyes are soft as he looks out at the crowd.

“Yeah,” Jimmy whispers, still running his hand carefully through Joel’s tail. “I.. miss my sister. I still gotta tell Tango I found Mumbo, get you two together again…”

“Oh gods, I miss Tango,” Mumbo whines loudly, his shame now nowhere to be found. “And Zed, we were working on a project before I was taken, I wonder if he finished it, we were supposed to take a step into the future with more discoveries and technology! Agh!” He lets himself fall down on the ground, Martyn falling by his side while giggling. 

“Seriously, you knowing who Tango is was such a surprise,” Joel chuckles, putting his chin on his intertwined fingers. “Who knew, right? This world is so much smaller than I thought. Sometimes I wonder if there is something more that would have helped us meet sooner, or maybe something that connected us way before we actually met.”

“I mean, it wouldn't surprise me, to be honest,” Martyn says, turning on his back and looking up at the sky. “Fate is a very strange thing.” 

“Strange indeed,” Scar agrees, glancing at Apo, still hugged tight to his side. “..Can I do your hair, Apo?” He whispers.

“Yes!” Apo immediately yelps, turning her back to Scar and taking out her hair ties, letting her red hair fall to her shoulders. “You know, maybe we can find some way to get your memories back, Scar,” she suddenly says, tapping her claws on her knees, sitting cross-legged. “I mean.. there has to be a way, right? Not only will it be good to know more about your past, but maybe your past also hides some interesting things and connections.”

“That would be magic,” Owen says with a frown. “A strong magic, because I don't think there's another way to bring back lost memories.. I wonder how you lost them in the first place..”

Scar’s hands stall a bit right around Apo’s shoulders, before he inhales sharply and begins sectioning off the Demon’s hair. “...I dunno specifics. I dunno.. who did it, or why, or if it was even on purpose. All I know is that my Soul’s a little messed up. Not damaged enough to start breaking or lead to emotion loss or anything, but.. enough for the amnesia, I guess.” The Vex blinks, shaking his head vigorously and clearing his throat. “I’m sure there’s a way out there to fix me, but I’m happy to wait until we’re safe. ‘S no big deal– not like I know what I’m missing!”

Apo’s own breath shakes, as she looks at her hands, feeling Scar working with her hair. She wants to argue, because what if Scar has someone who's also waiting? What if they live somewhere close? What if they can ask for their help? Or.. or maybe his memories were taken for a reason? Maybe he knew something that he shouldn't have, maybe it's important… but she stays quiet. It's not her business, especially not now. They can find a way to help once the time is right, and now? It.. doesn't feel like the right time. 

“It's starting!” Someone exclaims from the crowd, pointing up at the sky, getting everyone's attention. People around stand up, already screaming and cheering, as they wait for the lights. 

“Oh! The lights!” Apo grins, slowly looking up at the sky, trying not to mess with Scar's work. “Guys, any minute now!”

Mumbo is already staring up at the sky, as is Martyn laying by his side. His vision is tinted red, and he wants it. He wants for these lights to go off, he wants the colors filling up the sky, he needs more.

Scott is infinitely more tense than before, confused and startled by the sudden noise. Its eyes dart around the crowd, teeth digging into the inside of its cheek and claws raking across its arms. What is happening? What-?

“Do you think the lights are just lights or those booming things?” Scar asks, carefully braiding a section of Apo’s hair. “What were they called, fireworks?”

“Yep,” Jimmy confirms, wings fluttering happily. “Pretty sure it’s mostly lights, but Cordelia mentioned fireworks too so.. guess we’ll find out!”

Soon the night sky is filled by a variety of lights, and a few seconds after that is a soft, high-pitched whistling that fades for only a moment before there is practically an explosion of color, accompanied by a sound very similar to a literal explosion.

Scott freezes. It goes utterly still. Its ears ring, its vision blurs at the edges, which is incredibly disorienting with only one functioning eye. It feels like everything in its chest that’s been building since it woke up bursts, and then its lungs are squeezing and its throat is tight and it can’t breathe it can’t think–

Then there’s a second explosion, and it is on its feet before it even registers moving, bolting away as fast as its feet can take it in this state. In its daze, it blanks on the fact that there is a person tied to it with a rope, forced to follow. It can’t focus. It needs to get out, it needs to escape, it’s so loud and Scott can’t breathe why can’t it breathe?!  

“Scott!” Grian yelps as he is suddenly tugged back toward the empty streets, the group immediately perking up. 

“What's going on?” Apo asks nervously, the new braid in Scar’s hand falling apart, as everyone stands up, looking toward the direction the two ran. 

“I don't know, but I don't like this..” Mumbo mutters, as he takes a step forward. His hand is immediately caught by Martyn, who looks at him anxiously. “I'll be right back, I promise,” Mumbo says softly, putting his other hand on the Siren’s, attempting to calm him down.

Martyn doesn't like this either. He doesn't like it at all.. but despite that, he still lets go of Mumbo's arm as the Vampire chases the other two, leaving him back with the others, the fireworks still loudly going off behind his back. 

Scott doesn’t know where it’s going other than away. It’s moving as fast as it can in its panic– which, all things considered, it could be going faster– and just going in the opposite direction of the noise. It only makes breathing harder, wheezing escapes escaping its knotted, twisting lungs, through its horribly burning throat. So loud. So much, too much. It’s only when Scott reaches the border of the village that it realizes it has to stop. It can’t leave, it’s not allowed, it has to stay here has to be good–

The rope, the rope yes it’s still– Grian–

It shoves itself hard against the wall and slides to the ground, barely processing its surroundings or the fact that it’s even on the ground now. Everything is still so loud, too loud, way too loud and sudden and loud. Its claws are in its hair, pulling on blue locks and raking at its scalp, and it can’t breathe, and is it fucking whimpering-?  

Grian struggles to keep up the whole time, having to use his wings sometimes to push him forward, despite all the pain. He could hear Mumbo yelling behind them the whole run, and the moment Scott finally stops, dropping down on the ground against the wall, Mumbo lands behind them, panting.

“What is going on?” He hisses out of breath, taking a few steps forward.

“I– I don't know,” Grian stutters, moving closer to Scott and sitting down on his knees in front of them. “Scott?” He asks quietly, Mumbo moving to sit by his side, shielding the poor guy from the fireworks in the background.

Scott wheezes, eye wide open but glazed, supposedly unseeing. Their hands are trembling an awful amount, and there’s a faint scent of rotting blood– their claws have broken skin, digging into their head as they are. Really, their whole body is trembling, breath coming in no more than choked gasps interrupted by whines and, painfully enough, chirps. Small, helpless, terrified chirps.

“Oh, Scott…” Grian whispers, his voice shaking. He needs to do something, but what? How can he help them? He knows how to deal with the others when they have their episodes, but Scott? They are a mystery to him.

Mumbo sighs heavily, tilting his head with a small, painful smile. “It was too much, wasn't it?” He asks softly, for a second sending a glance toward the fireworks, before he turns back Scott. “I’m sorry, we should have noticed.. we shouldn't have stayed there after the bonfire, it would have been better if we went back to the hut..” He lets out a shaky exhale, listening to all the pained chirps, and seeing Grian shaking by his side, overtaken by the instincts on his own.

For a second his thoughts go back to the previous day, and with his body slightly trembling, he brings his hand up, booping Scott’s nose in desperation.

Scott’s eye darts up at the movement, locked on that finger and choking on its pathetic noise, choking on what’s left of its breath. Hand. Hand moving toward its face, hand with claws, hand with scars, pale and sharp and moving closer and touching and nonono you will not take my EYE FROM ME AGAIN–

Blood. It tastes blood. Again. It shudders, breath wheezing through its nose. It’s still shaking. Its eye burns. Its teeth are digging through leather. Not latex, not that weird paper-plastic, leather. Thin, soft, fingerless. Vampire. The blood in its mouth isn’t from a nurse’s finger it’s bitten off, or a chunk of a doctor’s ear. It’s a Vampire. Scott is biting Mumbo.

Scott is biting Mumbo. Scott is biting Mumbo, and it can’t let go. Its jaw won’t unclamp, and there’s still blood, and it won’t let go can’t let go its teeth just keep digging and it is biting Mumbo.

Bad. Bad dog, let go, let go let go let them go let GO–  

Grian feels like time has stopped, as he stares down at Mumbo's hand, Scott's teeth digging into the leather, the blood slowly dropping down their mouth. He feels like he can't breathe, like everything around him went still, and it would have been true if not for the fireworks still going on in the background. 

“M-Mumbo?” He whispers, his eyes slowly going back to the Vampire, and his guts twist the second he sees their eyes. He doesn't remember the last time Mumbo's eyes were so red. “Mumbo…” 

They're not answering. Mumbo is staring down at their own hand, at the blood dripping to the ground, and not answering. Their eyes seem to be just stuck there, as their breath hitches, their head slowly swaying. He can see that Mumbo is trying their best to keep themself together, to keep their head up, but they are struggling. Of course they are.

“I-It's f-fine..” Mumbo says suddenly, breaking the silence. Their voice is small and breaking with every word, as they lick and then bite down on their lip. “Y-You’re fi.. fine, Scott. It's o-okay..” 

....

What is going on? They don't understand anything. Why are they so lightheaded, why is blood calling out to them, why–

They blink away the incoming tears. They are crying? No, it's probably sweat, they can feel it on their forehead. Right. This is nothing. This is not the first time they felt their hand like this, this is fine . 

This is–

Why can't they–

There's no blood in their mouth, why.. why is there no blood in their mouth, it's supposed to be there. Because that's what happens with every bite, because– 

Because– 

“Grian.. C-can you.. g-get the kit… T-The kit f-from the.. the hut..” They stutter out slowly, choking around their own words, hand trapped between the teeth shaking and slowly going numb.

“I–” Grian chokes, looking helplessly between the two. Then he grunts– though it borders on a sob– and unties the rope from his wrist, stumbling to his feet and sprinting to the hut like his life depends on it.

Scott chokes out another whimper, muffled against the hand in its mouth. It’s shaking too, and its eye is very quickly welling up with something that makes what’s left of its vision unbearably blurry, eye darting between Mumbo’s face and his hand as its breathing picks up again. Air comes even faster now, and through its nose, and gods it’s getting lightheaded already. Even still, it can’t let go.

Why can’t it let go? Why is its jaw locked, why can’t it let go, why is it getting hard to see, why does its eye burn why can’t it– why– why–  

“Breathe, Scott..” Mumbo whispers, his other hand slowly moving up. He watches Scott's reaction carefully, and feels them biting down harder as his hand moves closer to their face, but he can deal with that. It's not the first time.. he can.. he can deal with that.

Gently, he puts his hand on Scott's head, feeling the soft hair and the blood from the scalp. His senses are all going haywire, the stench of the rotten blood assaulting his nose, as he tries to ignore it. 

Ignore the smell. Ignore the pain. Ignore the red, red, red, red–  

Something is missing..

Right, there's no blood in his mouth, why–

“I’m.. I’m n-not gonna h-hurt you, Scott..” He says, choking, trying to keep his voice as calming and soothing as possible, but he can't. It's so much, he can't change it, but needs to. He doesn't want them to panic even more, please–

Scott heaves another noise. Not quite a sob, but something close. They hold eye contact now, with that wide, tear-filled eye. They flinch just a bit at the first contact, and their jaw clamps down harder, but the longer that hand stays in their hair, the more they seem to come back to themself. It’s slow, and the fireworks in the background cause a couple setbacks and more biting and more blood–

But then their eye clears just a bit, and they don’t let go yet– can’t let go, perhaps– but one trembling, unsteady fist moves to their own chest and circles. Over and over again. ‘SORRY. SORRY. SORRY. SORRY.’  

Mumbo shakes his head with a weak, almost hysterical chuckle, his shoulders trembling. “It's f-fine.. d-don’t worry, I– I’m fine.. fireworks.. t-too much.. I under– understand…”

He can't hear the fireworks anymore. Did it stop or is he just too far gone? Maybe.. noise tends to blur in the background a lot, so maybe.. or it stopped.. he hopes it stopped, maybe then Scott will feel better.. yeah.. He needs Scott to feel better..

Scott just whines, still muffled and even gargled now. There is so much blood in its mouth. Stinging in its scalp. But there’s also a hand in its hair, resting there and brushing instead of grabbing and pulling, and there’s no more explosions, no yelling, no anger, just shaky comfort and fear and grief and–

Slowly, with no small amount of popping in its jaw, it pries its teeth from their hand and the leather. It moves so slowly, so carefully, with more cracks and pops in its jaw before it finally, finally lets go. It then immediately scrambles further away, awareness snapping back like the release of a crossbow, and soon it’s curled up on the ground and coughing and trembling and trying so hard not to cry. It hurt them. Bad. It hurt them bad, and there’s so much blood and it messed up so badly it’s so bad it’s such a fucking animal-!

Monster. It’s a monster. How could it have forgotten for even a second?

Mumbo's breath is now shaking even more, his hand finally free. He could feel the teeth leaving oh so painfully, he could feel it tugging the skin back, he could feel–

He needs to comfort Scott. Right, they're shaking, he can see that, he needs to–

There's blood dripping down his hand. He looks down and slowly takes the leather glove off, his breath hitching, as he finally sees the pale skin now completely tinted red, so much red.

He can't move.

He can't speak.

He can't look at Scott, why is he staring at his hand? Why is he staring at the blood?! 

He can.. can feel it in his mouth, now that the blood is fully visible. He knows it's not there, but he can feel it, goddamn it! It's in his mouth, it's on his teeth–  

Grian.

Grian, where are you?

Grian, come back.

Grian, Grian, Grian, Grian, Grian– Red, Red, Red, Red–

“I’m here!” A distant shout, rushing feet, shaking wings. “I’m here, buddy, hey hey– Void fuck, okay, I’m gonna hold your hand now okay? I’m gonna clean this and it’s gonna hurt, Gods can you even hear me– Doesn’t matter, okay, gonna clean this now Mumbo… I-I didn’t have time to grab any of the others, but I can do enough ‘till we get you to Timmy, okay? I dunno if you’re.. processing right now, but one more warning, this is gonna bloody sting. Here I go, buddy..”

Mumbo doesn't react at all. Grian is cleaning the bite and yet he doesn't react at all. He knows it hurts, he knows it's very painful, because the teeth went too deep, so getting no reaction? It makes Grian want to cry. Mumbo's eyes are still glued to his own hand, and he doesn't even flinch. 

He's out. Mumbo is completely out of it.

Grian swallows his emotions and just.. cleans the wound. He steals glances at Scott, hyperventilating in a ball on the ground, and he doesn’t know what to do. He can’t touch them, that much is obvious, but he seriously doubts they’ll hear him either. It’s.. worth a shot anyway, though.

“Scott?” He murmurs, diligently wiping blood away and cringing at the warm red continues to gush from the wounds. Void, Scott has some sharp teeth. He keeps cleaning. “Scott, bud? Can you hear me?”

No response from them either. Shit. This is really bad. He is so not equipped to handle this… Fuck, okay, one thing at a time. Clean the stains of blood first, then compress the active bleeding, wrap it up tight. Jimmy can do a lot better for Mumbo later, this will have to do for now.

Great. Now he’s got an unresponsive, heavily dissociating Vampire and an equally unresponsive mute Avian having a panic attack. What the everloving hell does he do now? He needs to get these two inside, but he can’t touch Scott. He could probably get Mumbo to his feet at least, but then he’d have to leave Scott which also isn’t an option. Gods above, does he just wait? Just sit here? What does he do?!  

There's another quieter explosion in the background, as Grian flinches looking up at the sky, but it's not fireworks anymore, no it's something familiar. It's green smoke, one of Mumbo's prototypes. He was talking about getting them something that can help the others find you, after the whole splitting up incident, and this smoke was really close to them, which meant–

On cue, Jimmy drops to the ground near them. That probably sent him to look around and send the signal after he found them. “What happened?” The Canary calls out, moving closer to the three, as the rushing footsteps follow from the direction of the streets, probably the others or at least some of them coming closer. 

It's not a surprise when Acho comes into the view first, their speed amazing as always, and soon after the others follow, immediate worry on their faces as soon as they see them by the wall. Grian grimaces, looking down at the Vampire's hand. They probably can't see that right now, with Mumbo's back toward them, but as soon as they move closer.. oh gods.

“Mumbo!” Martyn calls out, running up to them. 

“Why is– Why is Scott–?” Scar asks, panting, the group now closer.

“P-panic attack,” Grian stutters, very very carefully watching Martyn. Just.. Just in case. “The fireworks.. freaked them out, really bad. Got overwhelmed, a-and Mumbo.. tried to comfort them…”

“Oh,” Acho chokes, the first to move closer to Grian and see the sluggishly reddening bandage around Mumbo’s hand. “..Oh Void. ”

“Grian they are still panicking though,” Owen mutters, taking a step closer to the trembling Avian on the ground.

“Don’t-!” Grian wheezes, valiantly trying to control his own breathing at this point. “Just– O-Owen don’t touch them, okay? Please?”

“What do you mean tried to comfort them? What the hell did they do? Mumbo?” Martyn growls, as he circles the Vampire and his face immediately pales, noticing the bandages. His left hand quickly moves to his right, grabbing his own bandage, reminded of what happened. “Mumbo?” He whispers, dropping down in front of them, cupping the Vampire's face. “Love, can you hear me?” His voice is breaking, and he knows that it's a dumb question the second he sees their eyes.

As if on a pause, Mumbo is staring down at their hand, the red in their eyes brighter than ever, and Martyn knows he's too late.

“What– the fuck?!” He snarls, his attention going back to Scott on the ground. “WHAT THE FUCK DID IT DO!?” He shouts, letting go of Mumbo and standing up, as he takes quick steps toward the other.

“Oh gods,” Scar yelps, eyes darting between the angry Siren and still sobbing Scott.

“Nononono Martyn–” Grian frantically stands as well, shoving himself between them with shaking hands held placatingly in front of himself. “Martyn they didn’t mean to hurt him, they were having a breakdown they aren’t in their right mind–”

“Oh trust me, it won't be in its right mind when I'm fucking done with it!” Martyn yells, trying to push Grian away to get to Scott, before Joel suddenly jumps behind him and grabs his shoulders, tugging him away.

“Martyn, calm down!” The Panda growls, holding onto the Siren as hard as he can to keep him in place. 

“Please,” Grian croaks, chest heaving with desperate breaths. “I know you’re angry, you have a right to be angry, but please focus this energy on Mumbo. I am begging you to calm down for two goddamn seconds and be with your boyfriend. This was an accident. They are having a panic attack and they bit him because he touched them. If you get close with violent intentions I can tell you with full confidence that you will get hurt again. Please, Martyn. Please just be with him and let me figure out how to handle Scott. Please. ”

The others watch the exchange with off-the-charts tension, eyes wide and breaths caught. There’s hardly a sound for a moment aside from heavy breathing and muffled, impossibly quiet sobs.

Surprisingly, Martyn doesn't even try to argue, as he immediately turns back to Mumbo, his face softening. “Come on, love,” he whispers, gently putting his hands on the Vampire's arms and helping him stand up. “Let's take you back to the hut, okay? You need some rest,” he whispers right by his side, touching his forehead to Mumbo's temple for a minute, before slowly but surely guiding him toward their house.

“Oh, Dear Hearth..” Apo chokes, looking between Mumbo and Scott. She couldn't even imagine that this night would go so wrong so quickly, they were having fun just a few minutes ago!

“This is a mess..” Owen grimaces, looking down at Scott, wondering how they can help them. Grian said not to touch, but it doesn't seem that Scott can hear them right now, or can they?

“It is,” Grian whispers, shakily lowering himself to the ground again to sit near Scott– not nearly close enough to touch, but.. close. “Scott..? Can you hear me? P-please give me some sort of.. I-I dunno, tapping, if you can hear me…”

Nothing. The wingless avian just lays there, curled into a trembling ball, no longer quite sobbing but gasping for breath, every inhale sharp and every exhale a wheeze. Their claws are back in their hair, digging into their scalp, and beads of black blood are starting to escape from their hairline, staining their forehead and slowly dribbling down with gravity. 

Grian mutters a curse, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. What does he do.. Gods, what can he do… 

Then, an idea. Possibly a stupid one, possibly a very stupid one. But it might work. They did it for themself so maybe–

Tap tap tap. Tap drag. Tap tap drag tap. Tap.

Grian taps and drags his foot on the ground, as close to Scott as he dares. After a pause, he does it again. Then again. Just like they did for themself four days ago, when Grian restrained them and they soothed themself. The thing that made him feel so awful. If it’s self-soothing for them, then… Safe. Safe. Safe.

“Gri! You're a genius!” Scar whisper-yells, before he looks down at the ground and, biting down on his lip, gently repeats the pattern with his foot, trying his best to be in sync with Grian, and at the same time to not make the tapping and the dragging louder. They don't need loud, they need unison and reassurance . 

“Oh do we all do that? I think everyone doing that is a bad idea, so the floor is yours,” Acho mutters, taking a step back.

“Yeah, you know what? I agree,” Joel says nervously, also taking a step back. 

“Just.. make it loud enough for them to hear, but not so loud it overwhelms them..” Apo mutters, as she looks down at the ground, and with some hesitance, starts repeating the pattern, joining in. 

Owen just sighs heavily, but instead of joining or moving away, he sits down closer to Scott, cross-legged, putting his hands on the ground to show that she's not here to hurt them. Maybe hearing the code and seeing Owen defenseless might help?

There’s a low growl rumbling in Scott’s throat when Owen gets close, but it cuts off just as fast, wide eye darting from the Sparrow to the Sunbird to the tapping to the Vex to Owen and around and around. Their quick breathing stays quick for a while, harsh and sharp with the occasional near-whimper. Then the foot they have closest to the ground joins the rhythm, tapping and dragging while they seem to melt against the ground. They don’t close their eye, dazed blue remaining locked onto Owen in his proximity, but their breathing starts to slow. Their tremble starts to lessen. It takes ages, it takes what feels like hours but is truly just minutes of sitting and tapping away. Grian’s leg starts to ache, and everyone has to sit down at some point, but those that are tapping don’t pause. Owen’s hands don’t leave the dirt, Scott’s eyes don’t leave the Sparrow, but their claws do eventually leave their hair. They breathe.

Finally, Scott fully sags into the dirt with a shuddering exhale, eye finally falling to the rope still snug around their wrist. They take more shaking breaths, their foot switching to a different not-rhythm. A single sentence before returning to tapping out safe. It’s a long one, a lot of tapping and dragging and a bit of internal translating, but the point gets across. Please tie me up again. Properly.

“Scott..” Owen whispers sadly, his eyes pained.

And just like this, they are circling back to the start, aren't they? They thought they were making progress, and yet..

“It's okay,” Grian mutters sadly, smiling weakly at Scott. “We– We can try this again later, we can always try again,” he hums, as he sits down on his knees in front of Scott, taking the rope still wrapped around Scott's wrist, and starts tying it around them. 

The others can't even speak as they watch Grian tie Scott up, the understanding of the situation finally fully dawning on them. 

“This is.. really fucked up,” Apo whispers under her breath, making Joel snort bitterly.

“You can say that again..”

Owen whispers a curse of her own, rubbing at her eyes and taking a deep breath. It is. It is fucked up. All of it is.. so fucked.

“Back to square one, then..” Jimmy mutters, slumping with a heavy sigh. “Gods.. just.. Gods… ”

“I really wanna give them a hug,” Scar murmurs, leaning heavily against Apo. “I know I can’t.. but look at that face and tell me they don’t need a gosh darn hug, man…”

Grian suddenly winces, biting down on his tongue with a grimace. “I'm sure Mumbo will be more open to the hugs,” he tells Scar, suddenly reminded of their unresponsive partner, who was taken by Martyn a few minutes ago. 

“Oh shoot-!” Scar chokes, suddenly trying to stand up way too fast and almost falling over entirely. “D-do you think– ow, shoot, freakin’ legs– would they n-need space or can we go yet, should we– I gotta–”

“You gotta sit back down mate, blummin’ ‘eck,” Joel grumbles, grabbing the Vex by the wrist and coaxing him back to the ground. “Don’t get up so fast, gods.” 

“I’m okay,” Scar weakly insists, grabbing Joel’s arm in return. “Just h-help me up maybe? We gotta.. We gotta go, gotta–”

“Yeah, yeah I got you Scar, take a breath,” Joel mutters with a sigh, helping the other back to his feet much slower. “Martyn’s taking care of Mumbo, we don’t need to rush. Relax.”

“Don’t tell me to relax,” Scar very nearly hisses, legs wobbling dangerously. “I can’t relax, relaxing is the last thing I feel like doing right now Joel!”

“You can at least take a blummin’ breath!” The Red Panda snaps back, furry ears folded back. “Your legs are actively giving out, just breathe for two seconds and let somebody carry you!”

“Let me help you, Scar,” Apo joins in, throwing his hand over her shoulder, dividing the Vex’s weight between her and Joel. “We are gonna get there faster if you breathe better, okay?”

Owen also stands up from the ground with a heavy sigh, looking back at Grian and Scott, waiting to see what the Sunbird is gonna do next. “We should go, in case people start splitting up and going home, or they do a second round of the lights, I don’t think we can afford them.”

“No, we can’t,” Grian murmurs, standing on shaky legs of his own. Scott just.. sits there, knees to their chest while they stare dazedly at the ground. He can’t risk touching them… Though he hasn’t tied their legs yet. “Scott..?”

The wingless avian jolts slightly, eye darting up to the Sunbird. They can hear him now, at least… “We gotta go back to the hut, okay? Can you follow us?”

There’s no small nod this time, but they get up with a small stumble, shuffling forward alongside the others as they finally get moving. It’s slow going, between Scar’s awkward stumble that the others are unwilling to speed ahead of, and Scott’s shuffling that Grian is unwilling to leave too far behind. Slowly but surely– and thankfully with no more light shows or explosions in the sky– the group makes their way to the hut they’ve been staying in. 

Jimmy mutters a curse when the hut comes into sight and he sees blood on the ground. Mumbo’s bandages bled through quickly, it seems, which is.. very concerning. How hard did Scott bite them..? Void this is a mess… 

“Here we go,” Apo hums, as they approach the hut, and she slowly opens the door, entering with Scar and Joel by her side. Her eyes immediately fall on Mumbo sitting against the wall on his mat, as Martyn sits by their side, the Vampire in a  firm side-hug with the Siren’s head on their shoulder, and hushed, soft whispers filling the room. She knows that Martyn is probably rambling about something, as she found out just two days ago, this helps to ground them.

“Martyn?” Joel calls out softly, but the Siren just shakes his head, not stopping his whispers. As they were doing before, Mumbo is currently hugging their knees to their chest with their left hand, while staring down on the right, the red slowly dripping from the bandages that now have completely absorbed the blood, not a single white spot left. Their eyes are so red, and Joel wonders if he’s ever seen them this color.

Scar’s throat makes this very strange whistling noise as he jerks away from the two holding him, managing to stay on his feet and stumble forward enough to reach Mumbo’s other side. Small high-pitched whistles and what almost sounds like chirping spills from his mouth constantly, alongside noises eerily similar to giggles. Even the softest of little screeches breaks free every now and then, and Scar very visibly does not like the noises, but he clings to Mumbo’s sleeve and presses up against them anyway.

Grian doesn’t come inside, presumably getting Scott up to the roof, but the others slowly file in. No one else gets so close, but they don’t stray as far as they could, settling either on the floor somewhat nearby or on the little one-person bed. Jimmy approaches slowly, the first aid kit in his hand, and crouches about a foot in front of Mumbo. 

“..Martyn?” The Canary whispers, knowing full well that Mumbo can’t hear him in this state. It feels very strange to ask a separate party’s permission to take care of someone’s injury, but.. it’s the system they need for now, with Mumbo effectively detached from reality.

“Just do it,” Martyn whispers weakly, his head still on Mumbo’s shoulder, and both of his hands now wrapped around the Vampire’s right arm. “He probably can’t feel anything right now, so just do it..”

Jimmy hums softly with a small nod, very gently reaching forward and cradling the Vampire’s right hand. He moves forward a bit and sits properly, something in his eyes sharpening as he begins to tend to the bite mark. He’s the only one who doesn’t wince even a little when the blood-soaked bandage is peeled off, face perfectly neutral as he cleans the surrounding skin and thoroughly disinfects the bite. He has to give both sides of the bite a thick pad of gauze for pressure before wrapping the whole hand back up, laying it in Mumbo’s lap just as gently as he took hold of it.

Another high pitched near-giggle escapes Scar when he sees the bite, and he buries his face in Mumbo’s bicep with a shaky whine. Gods. Gods, that’s bad. That’s a really bad bite, the worst he’s seen, even in–

Even–

No. He’s not there. Bites don’t turn people green anymore, it’s fine, Mumbo’s fine. Martyn was fine so Mumbo’s fine too, it’s fine, they’re fine. It’s fine.  

Owen hisses empathetically upon seeing the wound, wings tucking Apo and Acho closer on instinct. How spooked does someone need to be to do so much damage by accident? She’ll be amazed if Mumbo still has full use of that hand after this.

Martyn doesn’t know what caused the shift, the giggle from Scar, or the fact that Mumbo’s hand is finally wrapped again, no blood in sight, but the Vampire suddenly tilts his head left, bumping his temple on top of Scar’s head, his eyes still fixated on the wounded hand. He doesn’t make any noises, his breathing pattern doesn’t change, the color in his eyes is still the same, and yet he seems to have.. responded to Scar’s distress. 

“Oh, love..” Martyn whispers, burying his face in the Vampire’s shoulder.

The touch practically rips another giggling sob from Scar, and the Vex is trembling now, clinging tight to Mumbo’s arm and keeping his face firmly pressed there. “T-take your time,” he manages to stutter out, taking a small breath and not quite managing to swallow back the following high pitched noise. He barrels through it regardless. “Jus’.. jus’ breathe and take your time t-to come back to us, Mumbo.. We’re gonna be here…”

In the best timing he’s had probably ever, Grian enters the hut, shutting the door near-silently behind him. He takes one look at Martyn, his partners, sitting there on the floor– and then he’s moving, nearly collapsing to the floor at Scar’s free side and covering the three with his wing. He doesn’t quite manage to wrap them– his wingspan isn’t big enough for that– but the thought is there. He leans his head on Scar’s shoulder, letting small chirps and trills respond to Scar’s distress.

“Let’s leave them to it,” Owen whispers, taking out his night clothes from the cabinet, and with a last glance toward the four, drags himself toward the bathroom. Apo immediately follows, probably trying to avoid those desperate noises from Scar, her heart aching for her friend.

“Gods, this is–” Acho grimaces slightly, standing far away from the four, Joel sitting on the mat by their side, as they wait for Owen and Apo to free the bathroom. 

“Yeah,” Jimmy sighs, using a wet rag to wipe vigorously at his hands. There’s no more blood on them, hasn’t been. He got it all off minutes ago. “..Yeah. I get what you mean, it’s– y-yeah.”

“...Is it a bad thing that I’m not angry at them?” Joel mutters, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He doesn’t elaborate on ‘they’– the other two already know who he’s talking about. “Maybe I just don’t have the energy to hate them anymore, or.. Gods, maybe it just isn’t anyone’s fault. This is a mess.”

“..Not a bad thing, no,” Jimmy mutters, practically scraping at his hands. “Mumbo wasn’t wrong for trying to help them. Scott wasn’t wrong for panicking, or reacting the only way they knew how in the moment. Panic makes us do a lot of things we wouldn’t otherwise.”

“Your friend there doesn’t seem to think so,” Acho huffs bitterly, leaning against the wall and crossing hands over their chest like Joel, while he looks at Martyn. “You’d think I’d get used to this behavior by now, a year has passed, but was he always like this?” They ask, turning back to Joel and Jimmy with a raised eyebrow. 

Joel snorts. “Yep. Y’know– he’s pissed about Scott biting him and Mumbo, but when he was eight he bit a kid for insulting Jimmy. Full mouth around the arm bite. Martyn’s been ruthlessly protective for as long as I’ve known him, I’m.. really not surprised by these reactions. I just wish he’d realize..” The Red Panda sighs instead of finishing the sentence, leaning his head back until it bumps the wall. “At the very least, he’s not leaving Mumbo’s side by choice anytime soon. After that.. I have a feeling we’re gonna need to keep an eye on him to make sure he doesn’t get into an actual fight with Scott. I already know it wouldn’t end well.”

“You know, I’m not surprised that he was a biter,” Acho follows up with a snort of their own, fidgeting with their sleeves. “He just seems like the type, you know? And yeah, leaving Martyn and Scott unsupervised would definitely be a bad idea..”

“What are we whispering about?” Apo joins them with a hushed voice, now in her pajamas, as she flops down on her mat. Owen also follows, on the way back grabbing Acho’s clothes and throwing them at stars face. 

“Thanks,” the Fae grumbles, making Owen chuckle slightly, as she also sits down on the floor. 

“Jus’ how messed up all of this is ‘n keeping an eye on Martyn like a rabid animal,” Jimmy answers Apo’s question, perfectly deadpan, still scrubbing violently at his hands. 

“That’s–” Joel sputters, cutting himself off just as fast. “..No y’know what that is kind of the tone we’re taking, isn’t it?”

The Canary hums, not looking up. Joel groans. “Go wash your hands properly,” he grumbles, snatching the rag from his brother-in-law. “You’re gonna scratch your hands raw if you keep doing that, go use some soap. Maybe it’ll help with the phantom blood.”

Phantom blood makes zero sense to any normal person, but Jimmy clearly knows what Joel is talking about, as he turns on his heel and shuffles to the bathroom. Besides, “fun” fact of the day, no one in this group is normal.

Owen sighs heavily, dropping down on her back, slightly grimacing at the pain in her wing, but she ignores it, as she tilts her head and watches Jimmy leave. 

“Don’t mind me, I'll be right back,” Acho also hums, standing up from stars place and moving toward the bathroom. They seem to stop for a second in front of the cabinet in the room, as star quickly opens it, their eyes darting around and searching for– aha! They grab Jimmy’s pajamas, and march toward the bathroom, closing the door behind them.

“Has this ever happened before?” Owen asks curiously, tilting her head back to Joel. “Mumbo, I mean. We’ve been on this run for a year, but I don’t remember ever seeing Mumbo so.. gone.. ”

“Once,” Joel hums, glancing at the cuddling group still on the floor. “Roughly the same day actually, if I remember correctly. Same week at the very least. Not time wise, but.. holiday wise. Red Week. The blood moon turns their eyes red, and as long as I’ve known them they’ve had this.. very strange aversion specifically to the color red. It felt like I was watching them torture themself whenever they’d work with redstone back at the lab, or when training got intense enough to draw blood from at least one of us. They never reacted well, but this.. Something similar happened during Red Week last year. I don’t know the specifics, since we’d only known each other for a few months at the time and they spent the whole week with Grian and Scar, but.. yep.” 

“He has a.. very weird relationship with blood for a Vampire,” Owen hums, nodding. “At least that’s what I think the problem with red comes from but, well, not my business to dwell into.”

Apo sends a sad glance toward the four, before she sighs heavily, and slightly shifting her mat closer to Owen's, lays down by his side, the Sparrow immediately covering her with a wing. “I'm exhausted.. I thought maybe we'd have a good day together as a team and.. sorry..” She cuddles closer to Owen, closing her eyes. “We can fix this tomorrow. We always fix stuff.”

“Yeah,” Owen croaks, wrapping both arms around the Demon and burying his face in her hair. “..Most of it was good. It was a mostly good day… And we’re spending all day together again tomorrow… We’ll go to the temple again, won’t we? Black Monday..?”

“Yeah..” But it's a mourning day. They won't be having fun, or sharing time with the others, it's a Death day for a reason. It's not that she doesn't like the day, but the atmosphere.. it's not the same. “Tomorrow..” She mumbles, feeling her consciousness slowly slip away into the night.

The others soon follow. One by one, most of the group settles on their mats and somehow manages to sleep. Jimmy and Joel end up holding each other, and Acho ends up shuffling underneath Owen’s wing, holding Apo from the back. Scar and Grian even manage to pass out at some point, leaning heavily against Mumbo with sleepy trills still slipping from Grian’s throat. 

Martyn tries to stay awake as long as he can, but he hasn't slept for two nights now, and Mumbo is finally right here . He doesn't need to be worried about him dying to Scott, because his boyfriend is here and safe in his arms, and he can feel the sleepiness slowly winning over him. He can just.. relax into Mumbo's shoulder.. just close his eyes.. just…

He's startled awake as his body leans over and starts falling. In a second, as a reflex, he manages to put his hands down on the floor catching himself, and immediately looks around confused, realizing that Mumbo isn't there anymore. He can see Scar and Grian still here, leaning against each other, but the Vampire that was right here, between him and the Vex, isn't.

“Mumbo?” He calls out in the room and his eyes fall on the figure standing in front of the window, illuminated by the red light of the moon. “Mumbo..” he repeats, his worry getting worse, as he slowly stands up, taking a few steps toward the Vampire. He can hear the shuffling behind him, probably the others either shifting around or waking up. 

Mumbo doesn't answer, still looking up at the moon through the window, his hands wrapped around his torso, as if shielding himself from the world around. It makes Martyn sick.

“Come on, love, you should sleep..” He mutters, his eyes falling on the empty bed. Right, Scar is with Grian and Apo is with Owen again, and considering that those two are the ones who mostly use the bed, now it's free for the night. Maybe a warm bed can give Mumbo some sense of.. home? Some comfort that he needs?

He's taken aback when Mumbo shakes his head, for a second looking up at the ceiling. Martyn frowns, not understanding what Mumbo is doing, but the second he does, his face falls even more, now more with sorrow than confusion. 

“Mumbo.. forget about it, please, let's just go to bed, let's sleep, okay?” He asks desperately, his voice betraying him with a crack. 

Mumbo shakes his head once again, and with a shaky sigh, turns toward the door, moving forward.

“NO!” Martyn yells, the time completely forgotten. He doesn't care that the others are sleeping, he's not letting his boyfriend go. “Mumbo, you promised!” He hisses, grabbing onto the Vampire’s wrist, happy that the left hand was the closest instead of the bitten one. “You said if it hurts you, you’ll put distance between you, you said that yesterday!”  

Mumbo makes a choked noise, trying to get his hand out of Martyn’s grip, and the Siren feels like crying. Why? Why is Mumbo putting himself through literal emotional torture? For what?!

“Mumbo, please..” Martyn begs again, his voice much weaker, and it makes him cry even more.

“Mumbo? Martyn?” Grian calls out nervously, as the others also seem to awaken.

Mumbo's not even looking back at him. He shakes his hand again, telling Martyn to let go, and with his whole body trembling, Martyn does it. The Vampire's hand falls, and with unsure steps, he moves to the door and opens it, letting even more light inside the hut. 

Martyn can hear Scar also calling out, as he stands there, watching Mumbo's back, surrounded by the red light. “Please..” he croaks, his eyes slowly blurring from the tears. “Just stay? Please, just stay with me..”

The door shuts, and the Siren drops to the ground.

Mumbo lets his body take him, his mind still refusing to cooperate. He needs to be there. He needs to be on the roof. He needs to–

Why? 

He doesn't know.

It's difficult to climb to the roof with his right hand fucked up, still throbbing with pain. And he can see the slight red tainting the white, as he puts more pressure on the hand, climbing up. He relaxes a bit once he's finally up, and his red eyes meet Scott's similarly red-tinted eye.

Scott stares for a solid five seconds, completely frozen. Their ears are pinned back, their eye is slightly wide, their chest heaves slightly. Then Mumbo shifts just a bit, and they recoil, a choked noise sounding suspiciously like a chirp getting swiftly cut off by a bite to their tongue. Their chest heaves more, their breathing becoming audibly heavy. They shake their head, frantic, desperate. Maybe even confused.

Mumbo shudders, his slightly glazed eyes looking down at Scott with somewhat sadness, his mind telling him to comfort them. Scott didn't do anything wrong, at least not intentionally. 

It's alright, Scott, he wants to say. I’m fine, he wants to sign, but nothing is cooperating with him. He feels like he's cut off from everything he ever knew, from everything that makes him him. 

There's crying in the background, coming from downstairs. He recognizes the voice, just like he recognizes the other voices trying to calm down the tears, the sobbing. 

He takes a few steps forward, standing by Scott's side, before carefully, with some recognition, they tap and drag their foot on the ground. Safe.

Scott jolts in place with another cut-off chirp, swallowing thickly. There’s still stains of black on their forehead, and they’re trembling, and their knees are held so close to their chest, and they look so scared. It’s not a nice image. They swallow again, eye bolting from Mumbo’s face to his foot and back. Then they slide their foot away from themself just enough to tap and drag a different word. Sorry.

Mumbo shakes his head frantically, and before Scott can react, repeats their pattern. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. It's his fault. He saw Scott in such a distraught state, and yet he touched him. He shouldn't have known better. He should have given him space. 

Scott whines, shaking its head right back. Why is he apologizing? He tried to help it, he tried to comfort it and it hurt him! It hurt him so badly, its teeth hurt, it meant to hurt! Maybe it didn’t realize it was hurting Mumbo at first but it was on purpose! It bit him! It bit him with the intent to rip his damn hand off, so why–

It can only shake its head. It wants to explain, but its head is still fuzzy from earlier, and it’s still so hard to think, and articulating everything it manages to think and feel right now would take far too much tapping that it just doesn’t have the mental fortitude for. So it settles for stubbornly shaking its head, unable to do anything more than that, eye wide and breathing still too fast. Its head is so fuzzy.

Mumbo sighs heavily, ignoring Scott's shaking. He can't do this right now. He just can't. So he drops down to the shingles, starfishing on the roof and staring up at the sky instead. He's so tired, and he can see in his peripheral vision Scott still frantically shaking their head, their breathing heavy, and he can still hear the soft sobbing downstairs, followed by the hushed “It's gonna be okay..” and there's light tinting his vision, so red.

It's so red–

He moves his hand higher, looking at his own hand. It's also red. The bandages on his hand, the rays from the moon shining down between his fingers. 

He can see it, but he can't feel it. He can't taste it. It's not there! Why? Why isn't it there!? He needs it. He needs it so much, he–

It's too much. The crying, the shaking, the tapping, the light, it's too much..  

He hears the leaves shuffling with the air. He hears the kids running around just a few streets down, still out despite the ungodly hour. He hears the rush– of water? No. It sounds so close.

Right there, just below the bandages, just right under his skin. He can hear it moving, he can see it . It's so blue despite the red lights, the blue little lines venturing down and disappearing under his bandages. He moves the hand closer. It's nice, the noise that it makes, the speed that it rushes by, the way it travels through his body, reminding him that it's his own.

He bites.

Right there, on the skin right below the white. Right into the blue. He can feel the fangs tearing into the skin, the vein, and he can taste the iron rushing into his mouth.

Familiar.

Calming.

And the noises in the background stop, and the world, for a second, finally goes still.

Notes:

Readers, probably: Wow last week was such a huge amount of fluff, maybe this will keep up for a while! These guys deserve a fluff arc!
The nefarious authors: *this chapter*
Readers: ...What the hell guys
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Chapter 15: Suffocate me so my tears can be rain

Notes:

!!Another very important note from the authors, the thing with Owen? It is NOT DID and we are NOT villainizing DID! There's something else happening that will be talked about in the future.

Chapter title from "The Seed" by AURORA

TW/ Blood, Self-harm, Religious practices, Dehumanization, Grieving, Unhealthy coping mechanisms, Intrusive thoughts/Harm OCD caused by a species' biology.

Hover mouse over italicised foreign language or messed up text for translations!
(Mobile and tablet users please see the End Notes)

“Sweetface, you’re doin’ it again.”

Mumbo winces in his chair at the gentle voice, looking to his left to find Keralis standing over him. He’s looking down at him with his usual soft eyes, as he moves his hand to Mumbo’s face and gently brushes the hair off his forehead. 

“Shashwammy!” He calls out, turning toward the door to the kitchen, his hand still in Mumbo’s hair. “Can you get some blood, please?” Mumbo fights another flinch, as he blinks up at the Hound. He doesn’t need blood, he’s not hungry.

“Be there in a second!” Xisuma calls out of the kitchen, followed by the loud clack of the utensils, as he puts the washed dishes back into place. The Vampire’s ears flap at the sound, eyes darting around, and his jaw clenches, his hand spasming in response. 

Keralis sighs sadly, crouching in front of him. “Sweetface.. Mumbo, you’re hurtin’ yourself, let’s change that, okay?” He asks softly, as he cups the Vampire’s face. “Come on, darlin’, just open your mouth,” he continues, as he tries to help Mumbo unclench his jaw and release the hand. There’s either drool or blood on his chin, and the Vampire whines, trying to move away, clearly against the idea. 

“Is he hungry?” Xisuma questions, worried, as he closes the distance between them, now standing by the two with a bottle of red liquid. 

“I don’t know,” Keralis answers with a deep sigh. “I don’t think so, to be honest.. It seemed like he ate a good lunch, so it’s probably something else..”

As if on cue, Mumbo sobs softly, his hand still trapped between his fangs, as blood escapes his mouth, dripping down his chin and onto his lap. His eyes are stuck on the bottle in Xisuma’s hands, and he doesn’t want it.. He’s not hungry, he doesn’t need blood. He doesn’t want to drink blood. He doesn’t. He doesn’t–

“Mumbo?” 

He flinches at the voice, lifting his head from the table and turning toward the figure to his left. Grian looks down at him sadly, his worried eyes darting from the papers and objects on the table, to Mumbo’s hand that’s firmly held between his teeth. 

“You’re.. doing that again,” the Sunbird says carefully, tilting his head. “Are you hungry? I didn’t know Vampires drank their own blood.. Do you want me to get you proper blood? Do you–”

No. He’s not hungry, he doesn’t need blood. He never wanted or needed blood, and it’s no different now. He’s fine. He just likes this. This feels nice, this makes him feel alive. He’s alive. He’s alive, he’s a person, he’s human too. He can be hurt, he knows it, he’s hurting. He feels worse when he loses a lot of blood, he knows it, because he can feel his head slightly swaying as Grian continues softly talking to him, trying to get his hand out of his mouth. Why? Why can’t they just leave him alone? He wants this. 

He’s fine with this. 

Just a minute more. 

He stares at the blue sky, his eyes lazily blinking, and his right hand itching. The palm hurts and he’s reminded of the incident from the previous night, with Scott biting down on his hand. The itch continues up to his wrist, and Mumbo’s breath shudders, as he finally starts coming to his senses. 

Scott is sitting perfectly still next to him, legs crossed and arms firmly tied. They’re staring at the shingles in front of them, breathing shallow and barely audible– the only movement they make is little flicks of their ear, seemingly reacting to small gusts of wind. They don’t seem all that present either.

M̷̥̝̹̩̒̓̏ȯ̵̢͚͎ŗ̶̧͇͌n̸̼͍̠̺̔͛͆í̵̛̲̬̰͆͘ͅņ̵̖͇͇̀̕g̸͙̬̟̐̃,̶͍͎̦͔̈́͋̿̄ ̶͍̥͆ͅs̷̩̥̘͖̓l̶͓̓ę̴̝̹̝́ȇ̸̡̠͒p̴͓͖̄͛̀h̵̠̲̥̓y̷͕̆̃h̴̞̻̉͂͗͠ḙ̷͍̋̐͆a̴̙͙̙͌͝d̴͔̜̳́!̶̩͈͈͔̈́

They can’t hear you, idiot, Scott thinks at the voice, ear flicking again. It doesn’t have the patience for this. Not today.

Ô̸̧̜̦͉̅́̍ö̷̢̼́̌̚ő̵̯̟͖ǩ̴̨͇̀̈́a̸̢̢̳͖̅ẏ̸̳͖̏,̴̼͂̓̂ ̷̻̮̭̬́̚b̴̨͑̏͝á̷̭̹̗̈́c̵͎̺̄̓̀͐k̵̨̖̫̀ ̶͈̖̪̈͆t̵̪̠͐̈́̓͠ȏ̸̙̇̕ ̵̻͍̱̭̊̍͊̊b̶͈͂̌è̶̢͚̰͜͝į̴̬͎̄̑̀n̶̦̮̼̏͊̂͂g̸̗̔͠ ̶̞̟̆̈̓r̶̩̾ú̶̖̾͊d̶̯̱͍͛͒͘ȇ̸̹͈͔̂̎ ̸͎̩́͋͐͘Î̵̬̱̬ ̸̦̭̽̆͘͝ṣ̶̲̲̈́ę̴̓è̴̼̺̻̱͐.̸̥͇̰̿̋̾.̶̦̬͉̇͂̀.̷̤͂̍

You’re a figment of my imagination impersonating my dead brother on a day of mourning. I’m sure you can guess where the hostility’s from, genius.

.̵̛̖̊̀.̸͍̣͎͂.̸̳͚̆P̵̛̮̮͕͕̐ó̷̰͂̒͜i̸̡̬͕̬̿n̸̛̼͈̝t̷͎̝̃̒̆͑ ̸̰̑t̷̢̤̀͛̂͜͠a̶̦͉̍̑̊͝ķ̶̛̖̤ȇ̸̗̮̞̫́͋n̴̡͚͈̿͒͑.̸̼̅̊͆̓ ̴̧͍̗́͘S̴̪͋h̴͙̦̼͇̑̀͝ų̷̟̅̀͠ẗ̵͙̫́t̸͚͂͝ḭ̷̖̦͍̔n̶̙̤̪̅̎̊͘g̸̩͋̿̄̎ ̸̼́̐̏̚u̸̞͛̏̕p̷͇̳͓̠̍̊̅̎ ̷̖̗̾̚ṇ̸͕͚̘͛̒́o̴͔͒̊w̶̙̓̑͐͘.̷̙̮̊͐͆͜ͅ

Mumbo lays there in silence for a moment, blinking all the dreams and flashbacks away, his eyes trailing the clouds passing by, as he slowly lifts his right hand up. Like yesterday, some of the bandages are no longer white, now a more brownish color, instead of the red under the moonlight. Then his eyes slowly trail down to his wrist, that is itching so much, it makes him want to tear his skin apart. 

Just there, over the familiar blue line, are two dots from his fangs, already healed shut. As a Vampire, his saliva is slightly different, granting him ability to heal little wounds like bites– so the second fangs leave the skin, the torn skin usually closes, but leaves the scars as a reminder, and a result of quick healing. He can clearly remember all the other little dots he has on his palm, now covered with bandages, and probably once again torn after Scott’s bite. He shivers.

With his whole body trembling, he finally finds strength to slowly sit up, grimacing. Everything around is.. surprisingly silent. He can hear the leaves shuffling because of the weak wind, but otherwise, no yelling or laughter from the village, or talking downstairs. 

He can still hear the soft sobbing downstairs– 

Mumbo flinches, his fangs biting down on his lower lip, as he tries to blink away the sudden daze. Keep it together, Mumbo.. Keep it together. 

Scott finally blinks the fog away and tentatively glances at Mumbo, only daring to move its head a little bit. It’s.. afraid? Is that the word? Afraid of moving too much, afraid of getting the Vampire’s attention. It.. hurt them. It was bad. How it hasn’t been punished yet, it has no idea. It’s lost again, confused, it doesn’t understand, this doesn’t make sense. Scott hurt Mumbo, but they’re.. up here. They apologized to it last night, and they didn’t want it to apologize. It doesn’t understand. It doesn’t…

Maybe.. it should go. Why is it staying here again? It doesn’t remember why it’s staying, it doesn’t remember why it decided to just sit here and allow itself to be a risk to these people. It was kidding itself thinking it was simply gathering intel, it’s getting attached. That is.. unacceptable… grounds for getting put down at this rate. It can’t go back to its cell now– can it? It’s a valuable asset, yes, but surely its handlers will at least punish it severely for its disobedience. That’s only if it isn’t made an example and killed outright. It.. can’t go back. It doesn't want to go back.

Maybe it can stay in the woods. Anywhere that.. isn’t around this group it’s staying with for some reason. Somewhere it isn’t a danger to them. Somewhere it won’t hurt Mumbo. Anywhere.. Anywhere else. The Siren would be pleased, at least, wouldn’t he? Or would he be angrier not knowing where Scott is… It may have to risk that. It can’t keep.. doing this… 

Mumbo bites down on his wrist. It’s quick and sudden, and makes Scott flinch, as the Vampire continues staring at the horizon, his Adam’s apple moving up and down with every gulp, the hand slightly shaking. It doesn’t last long, just a minute or two, before Mumbo lets go of his wrist, blood painting his already red lips more red, as he licks it. Then, with his legs shaking, he slowly stands up from the roof, shaking his head before his eyes immediately dart back to Scott. For a moment, the Vampire’s eyes are still red as it has been these few nights, but slowly the red fades. 

Scott ducks their head immediately, ears pinned back against their hair. There’s still black blood staining their forehead, and there’s still just a bit of red blood dried on their chin. They stare intently at the shingles, shoulders hunched and breathing hitched. They’re shaking slightly, just enough to be noticeable. It’s.. probably the worst state Mumbo’s seen them in since he started spending time around them, and it makes him grimace.

Why did.. nobody help them? He knows they were probably busy with him, but Scott still has dried blood all over their face, how is it that nobody thought about washing it away? Did they just.. leave them here without even talking to them or trying to help them through whatever happened last night? How is that fair? 

Tilting his head with a sad grimace, he taps his foot on the roof, repeating the already familiar pattern of safe.

Scott jolts a little, tensing a bit more for just a moment before relaxing again. Though relaxing isn’t quite an apt term– they’re not relaxed, but they at least don’t look tense enough to snap their spine in half anymore. They shuffle their foot out a bit further from themself and repeat the Code once, finally looking back up at the Vampire with what can only be described as anxious apprehension. Their breathing is.. still too shallow for comfort, and their eye has a visible glaze to it, like they’re not all there. It’s a bit too familiar for all the wrong reasons.

The sad grimace changes into a soft, weak smile, as he takes a step toward Scott. He makes sure to walk slowly, and doesn't make any sudden movements, sitting down in front of the Avian. He doesn’t know why he's doing this, but the thought of Scott being abandoned here by the others after what happened makes him feel terrible. Scott didn’t deserve to be left here by themself, considering how the others were apparently not even planning to let Mumbo come back up here. So he decides to risk it. Slowly, he opens his arms in front of the Avian, and making sure that Scott isn’t completely terrified of the situation, leans in closer, then gently wraps his arms around them, putting his chin on their shoulder, waiting for any kind of reaction, ready to move away if needed.

Scott’s breath catches, but surprisingly, they only tense a little bit. They make a low, questioning sort of noise, and sit there frozen for what feels like a very awkward minute. But just as Mumbo starts to think he should pull away, that maybe the touch is too much, they melt. They make another noise, this time of pure contentment, and just slump in his arms with a shaky sigh. Their face ends up buried against the Vampire’s shoulder, more trembling breaths the only noise that escapes them, but nearly all of the tension has abruptly fled their body.

There were no words needed, as Mumbo holds the shaking Avian in an embrace, letting them relax in the warmth, at least the warmth Mumbo can provide. It’s hard being a Vampire when others search for warmth in you, but can only find cold embracing your skin. For now, he throws all of those thoughts away, focusing more on the comfort, for both of their sakes. Scott needs to know that they are alright, that he’s not afraid or angry toward them, and Mumbo needs to know that he’s not doing all of this for nothing, needs to know that he didn’t leave Martyn as a sobbing mess for nothing.

They are gonna be alright. Mistakes happen, and they can learn from them and move on.

~

“..He’s out,” Grian whispers, immediately slumping against the wall. He’s got Martyn’s head in his lap, the Siren finally asleep after spending all night having a full-chest breakdown. “Void below, he’s finally asleep…”

“Thank the blummin’ Dragon, ” Joel quietly groans, flopping exhaustedly onto the floor. 

“How is it physically possible to cry for so long..?” Owen asks the ceiling, starfished on the floor with her wings draped over Apo and Acho like blankets.

“He’s gonna be.. so dehydrated when he wakes up,” Jimmy murmurs, followed by a yawn. 

“..This is gonna be a really shitty day, isn’t it?” Acho mutters, rubbing stars eyes. “None of us slept.. it’s Black goddamn Monday.. gods…”

“Blue moon tonight..” Scar mumbles, leaning heavily against Grian’s side. “Why does Red Week end in a blue moon…”

“Moon God’s weird like that, I guess.. Fits the mourning vibe better maybe, who knows,” Grian sighs, using the hand not in Martyn’s hair to brush through Scar’s. “I’ll stay with you when it rises. You won’t have to deal with it alone, buddy..”

“Do you work today?” Apo asks with a yawn, lifting her head slightly up to look over Owen to Acho. 

The Fae snorts with a grimace. “No, and thank the Gods for that, we can take a break and maybe sleep for two or three hours, and then we can go to the temple like we wanted.”

“Oh nooooo,” Joel whines from the floor, hiding his face in his hands. “The bakery is open for the morning, I need to be there in like an hour..”

“Yikes..” Jimmy grimaces, trying his best not to close his eyes. 

“Should we.. maybe check on Mumbo?” Acho asks, lifting themselves up on stars elbows. “At least Jimmy should, right? Help with the bandages.. and after everything, Scott… you know.”

“Yeah..” Scar agrees tiredly with a sluggish blink, stifling a yawn. “'Least.. somebody should, yeah…”

“I would but I can’t move,” Grian murmurs, continuing to run a hand carefully through Martyn’s hair. “He’s like a cat, if I move him he’s gonna wake up..”

“I’ll go,” Jimmy hums, yawning again before standing up and stretching with a tired grunt. “You guys.. try and rest, maybe..? Joel, try drinking some water, there’s a chance it’ll wake you up at least a little bit…”

The Red Panda just grunts, so Jimmy sighs, rolling his shoulders before quietly grabbing the first aid kit, exiting the hut and slowly making his way to the roof. There’s a chance Mumbo’s bandages have bled through again, and.. Scott might’ve been a little injured..? He can’t remember, it was so dark last night and he’s so bloody tired…  

He’s not sure what he expects to find on the roof, but.. it certainly isn’t Mumbo and Scott practically cuddling. They’re both just sitting there, quiet and still– well, Mumbo is quiet and still. Scott is shaking like a leaf in the wind, making these tiny whimpery noises that Jimmy can only hear because he’s got good ears. Mumbo’s holding them with baffling firmness, and Scott seems to be pressing into the touch with the desperation of a dying man. Jimmy can’t quite decide if he’s endeared or.. disturbed. Both? Both. Both is good.

Hearing the light footsteps against the roof, Mumbo slowly looks to his right, meeting Jimmy’s eyes. He doesn’t move away, doesn’t let go, just sits quietly. For a second his eyes dart from the Canary to Scott, before he moves his hand and gently puts it on Scott’s head, sending a worried glance back to Jimmy. There’s also some kind of.. disapproval in his eyes, as he frowns, signaling to Jimmy that They’re hurt!

Jimmy winces, shoulders hunching in chastised shame as he slowly approaches the two, trying to make his moves at least somewhat exaggerated so he doesn’t piss Scott off. The choked whine they make at the hand in their hair definitely doesn’t rip his heart to pieces. Nope. No overwhelming bird instincts here, so sirree. To his relief, there’s no growling or snapping of teeth. To his.. not relief, their shaking is worse now. Mumbo doesn’t seem too concerned by it at least..? Maybe this is normal for them– so not the time to dwell on it, there’s red and black stains on what little of their face Jimmy can see, how the hell did he miss that?

“Hey, you two,” he murmurs, crouching at Scott’s side. It’s much easier to hear their whimpering, being this close. Void below, is it because they’re being held-? Don’t think about it Jimmy. “Can.. I-I’d like to get that blood off you, Scott, may I..?”

They don’t seem to be interested in removing their face from Mumbo’s shoulder. If anything they just burrow further, concealing the rest of their face with the Vampire’s jacket. Hm. Somehow it didn’t cross Jimmy’s mind that they could be so.. clingy. They didn’t exactly strike him as the type to even be okay with extensive touch, considering.. last night… 

Mumbo sighs heavily, lifting his head a bit higher so his chin comes in contact with Scott’s head, as he starts gently tapping on their back. Safe. Safe. Here. Here.  

Scott whines again, and Jimmy can practically feel his heart crack. Goodness gracious he is way out of his depth here, isn’t he? Thankfully, the Morse Code convinces Scott to lift their face and tilt just slightly toward the Canary, so he flips the first aid kit open, wets a rag with a tiny canteen, and slowly– literally the slowest he can possibly do this– approaches Scott’s face with said rag. They don’t protest aside from little grunts, but their jaw flexes, and it makes Jimmy nervous as hell. Gods please don’t bite me, pleeeaaase–

They don’t bite him, and he is generously allowed to gently wipe the blood from their face. Some stains require actual scrubbing, which makes Jimmy’s heart positively race, but Scott still doesn’t protest or get violent. Small victories.. he’ll take ‘em where he can get ‘em.

When he’s done cleaning their face, he moves his attention to their hair, carefully inspecting their scalp for the source of the black blood. They did have their hands in their hair last night, Jimmy just.. didn’t realize they’d hurt themself. Did Grian? If so, why didn’t he say anything? Too worried for Mumbo maybe..? Despite his concerns, though, there’s.. nothing there. Well– not nothing, there’s more blood crusted in their hair which Jimmy takes the time to pick or scrub out, but there’s no wounds. Just.. a lot of tiny scars all over their scalp. Digging in like they must have done clearly isn’t new for them, but then why..?

…Maybe they just heal fast. Yeah. They took an End crystal to the face weeks ago and were just fine, unblemished the next time the group saw them, it must be more funky DNA bullshit that STARR did to them. Weird, for sure, but.. Jimmy can’t find a reason to be concerned about it. Mumbo has quick healing too, it’s nothing new and nothing to be worried about.

“..I’m sorry I didn’t realize,” he whispers, finally scooting away from the trembling avian. “Your head’s fine now, but.. I should’ve noticed you were hurt. I’m sorry I didn’t.”

Scott says nothing– not that Jimmy was expecting a response– and instead buries their face against Mumbo again. Still shaking. Still whimpering. The Vampire just brushes through their hair with a level of tenderness that Jimmy had genuinely assumed was reserved for Martyn. He’s so gentle with them.

“Can I.. see your hand, Mumbo?” The Canary asks, turning his attention to the other. “I’d like to change your bandage, if you’d be willing to let me..?”

Mumbo huffs, his face scrunching, as he takes his hand off Scott– receiving a quiet keen in response that seems to make Jimmy physically recoil– looking down at it. His eyes catch the new little dots on his wrist, and he feels a sudden feeling of shame swirl inside him, but he shakes it off, giving his hand to the Canary. He might have fast healing, but it’s not very useful with infections, so he always makes sure that the wounds are healing well. Jimmy can do that, he trusts Jimmy. His hand is slightly shaking, his palm facing the ground.

Jimmy hums, carefully taking the shaky hand and unwrapping the gauze. He knows better than to comment or even react to the scars, instead focusing on the much fresher bite marks. The matching wounds don’t bleed immediately at the loss of compression, which is a good sign, but Jimmy washes and disinfects them again anyway. Can never be too careful. Then he patches and wraps the hand back up, nice and firm. “Okay, healing’s doing its work. Is there.. anything else I can do for you? Either of you?”

Mumbo tilts his head, deep in thought, but comes up with nothing. He scoffs, annoyed at himself, clearly disliking the fact that his brain isn’t cooperating with him. After a minute of silence, he just shakes his head, his hand returning back to Scott’s hair. He’s fine as he is. He just needs time to come to his senses, and time for Scott to relax.

“Okay,” the Canary hums, packing the first aid kit back together and snapping it shut. He hesitates again, worrying his lip between his teeth. “...I’m gonna talk to the others. Try and.. s-see if Scott can join us today. See if we can find some sort of compromise. I.. don’t want the both of you to just be up here all day, especially not today. Would.. that be alright?”

Mumbo’s face falls, his shoulders slightly shaking. The others.. Right. How will they react? What will they say? And is there even a chance for a compromise? He shivers, as familiar sobs echo inside his head, and he buries his face in Scott’s shoulder, giving the Canary a small nod. They can try. 

“Okay,” Jimmy whispers. He’s definitely repeating himself at this point. Ugh. “Alright, I’ll.. yeah. I’ll let you know what the verdict is before I go anywhere, yeah? Y-yeah. Yep, erm. Going now, sorry..” With that, he stands up very, very slowly, making his way back down to solid ground and shuffling into the hut. Oh boy. This.. might get messy. Really messy. Oh boy.  

Scott could almost be called content in that moment, nuzzling closer to the Vampire with a soft huff. They’re still trembling, but the whimpering has stopped, replaced by.. rumbling? Certainly not growling, are they.. Are they purring?  

Mumbo blinks down at the avian, his eyes wide. He can’t see their face, but staring at the top of their head is enough for now, as a soft chuckle escapes him, returning his chin back to their shoulder as he continues brushing through their hair. They chirp, faint and shy, which is the only win Mumbo thinks he’ll need for a very long time.

Jimmy closes the door behind him silently, tiptoeing back into the room with utmost silence. Most of the group has fallen asleep, limbs tangled awkwardly and some in very uncomfortable looking positions. Martyn, too, is thankfully still asleep. Joel is up though, shuffling about just as quietly as he tiredly gets ready for the day. Jimmy grimaces empathetically– the Red Panda is going to crash tonight, if he doesn’t do so sooner.

“Hey,” Joel calls out quietly, throwing his bag over his shoulder as he moves closer to the door, dragging Jimmy with him. “How is he?” He asks in a whisper, as soon as they are near the door, as far as the others as possible. There are very visible dark eye bags under his eyes, and his tail is nervously twitching behind him.

Jimmy hums, face twisted in a telling grimace. “He’s.. very nonverbal and.. still really out of it, I think. Hand’s healing at least, just…” He sighs, rubbing at his temples. His brother-in-law’s been very testy with the subject of Scott. Not nearly as testy as Martyn, but certainly up there. Though he did quite literally restrain the Siren from approaching Scott last night so… “He and Scott are cuddling? I’m not sure how else to describe it, he’s.. holding them. Very very intently. Like only-ever-seen-it-with-Martyn levels of intense cuddling.”

“I’m sorry, so Mumbo has been spending nights with Scott outside, while Martyn was waiting for him the whole night, not being able to sleep, and now he left Martyn sobbing, because he wanted to.. cuddle with Scott?” Joel asks with a snort, raising his eyebrow. “If I didn’t know him well, I would have brought up cheating allegations. How are you planning to tell that to him?” He asks, tilting his head toward the sleeping figure of Martyn. 

Jimmy gives his brother a deadpan, alongside his own raised brow. “Do you honestly think I’m gonna tell Martyn any of this? Do you take me for an idiot, Joel?” He pauses as if to let Joel answer, before quickly– and wisely– deciding otherwise. “Actually, don’t answer that– I’m not gonna tell Martyn his boyfriend is having an impromptu cuddle session on a rooftop with the guy he hates with a passion, that’s just asking for more violence and I genuinely don’t have the energy to deal with either his ranting or trying to prevent him from attacking them. So. No, I won’t be telling Martyn any of this, I’m telling you because you’re my brother, ‘kay?”

“Oh, wow, pulling the brother card on me, okay, I see ya, Jim,” Joel says, raising his hands, admitting his defeat. “Then what are you telling him? Because I don’t know if I'll be here for that emotional whiplash. What are we even planning to do from now on?” He asks, his hands back on his hips, his tail now swaying side to side more calmly than before. 

The Canary sighs so heavily it nearly sends him rocking backwards, wings fluttering anxiously. Then, because he knows Joel will get what he means without further explanation, he murmurs, “I.. really don’t want either of them to be alone today…” 

As expected, Joel physically cringes, frowning at the Canary. “You can’t be serious.. Tell me that you’re not serious. You can’t be actually considering suggesting to the others to keep Scott around again. Yesterday night was a good lesson, and I think we should think about that before making any rushed decisions.”

Jimmy cringes too, shoulders hunching as he looks away. “..Yeah. It was a good lesson. Now we know not to.. to do whatever it is that set them off. I mean it was an accident, Grian said so and Mumbo clearly isn’t even the slightest bit afraid of it happening again, considering the cuddling. We’re figuring out.. what not to do, and…” He sighs shakily, hugging himself and staring resolutely at his shoes. “Joel, you guys spent.. five and a half years mourning Grian whenever this day came about. You know even better than I do how important Black Monday is, even to people like us, I.. Surely they’ve got someone they’re mourning too.. or something, just– I can’t.. in good conscience, let them spend today alone. I can’t do it, not without.. trying to… Yeah.”

“Gods.. ” Jole whispers, rubbing his eyes. He doesn’t say anything, taking his hand away, and staring back at Jimmy with a frown, before he finally sighs heavily, shaking his head. “You’re gonna be the death of me one day, and you’ll have to explain it to my wife,” he snorts, clapping the Canary’s shoulder. “Well, I’m sorry Jim, but I’m totally throwing you under the carriage, because I'm going to work, and leave you to explain all that by yourself. Good luck!” He chirps, giving his shoulder another enthusiastic clap, as he turns around and quickly moves to the door. 

“Jooeeellll,” Jimmy whines, futilely chasing after him. “Joel c’mon help me out here pleeeaaaase big brotheeerrrrr–”

“Okay, now that is a dirty move Jim!” Joel groans, turning around. His hands once again find their place on his hips, as he frowns at the roof, and then sends a glance back to the Canary. “What do you expect me to do here? You know Martyn doesn’t like them, and you know I don’t like them either, so if Martyn brings up good points, I’ll have to agree with him; also I’m running late to work. I mean, I can help if you’ll wait another three hours before my shift ends? But it’s a lot of time..” He cringes at that, trying to keep cool, and hoping that Jimmy will buy it, because honestly? Considering how the group hasn’t slept the whole night.. They might not even be up for the next few hours…

Jimmy hums, wiping the dramatic pout from his face with impressive speed. If he were anyone but Jimmy, that is. The Little BrotherTM energy, unfortunately, is par for the course. “..Yeah,” he agrees with a sigh, rubbing his face. “I’m.. probably gonna sleep, in fact. Try not to pass out and stab yourself or something, yeah? Thanks.. yeah. Bye, Joel.”

Joel stares back at Jimmy with a frown, not answering for a while, before he finally sighs heavily, rubbing his temple. “Yeah, go to sleep, and I don’t know.. Even if they wake up, don’t tell them anything, I’ll be back after the shift and we can talk to them together, I guess..” He says with a little groan, as he takes a few steps back toward Jimmy, and gently claps his shoulder again. “You’re.. doing amazing, Jim. Keep it up. I’ll see you at lunch.” With that, he turns around toward the street, and starts walking toward the bakery.

Jimmy huffs, yawns, and shakes out his feathers. With a sigh, much lighter than before, he makes his way back inside and finds a spot on a free mat to curl up and hopefully sleep for a decent amount of time. Gods know he needs it.

---

“Yeah, no,” Martyn says with a deadpan, his eye slightly twitching. 

Jimmy groans tiredly into his hands, unsure how to even argue. He’s made his case, sure, but.. he really has nothing up his sleeve to actually convince Martyn. He should’ve seen this coming, and part of him did, but he’s still wholly unprepared to argue with the Siren on this. “Martyn I’m not asking you to be close to them–”

“Well, I don’t fucking care,” Martyn snarls, the tapping of his foot against the floor now faster and louder. Jimmy swears he can see a vein on his forehead. “You should be glad that I’m not killing that Fucker, and I’m just sitting here waiting. I don’t like that Mumbo is there, I don’t like that he’s easy to attack up there, but Mumbo is old enough to make his own choices and hang out with it if he wants to– but we are not bringing it down here with us. I don’t want to be near it, and if I can respect Mumbo’s wishes to be there for that monster, you can respect my wish that I don’t want to.”

Apo groans loudly, leaning forward and faceplanting against the mat, making Owen by her side sigh heavily. 

Jimmy takes a deep breath, and lets it out as slowly as he can manage. “...Okay,” he whispers, sitting up straighter. “Okay. You’re right, I shouldn’t try to force you to be around them, it wouldn’t be right for either of you. I’ll.. talk to Mumbo and see what he wants to do, does that sound fair?”

“No, no it doesn’t sound fair,” Martyn says, his voice coming out choked, as his eyes move down to the ground. “He’s my boyfriend, goddamn it, why do we have to talk through you? It’s not fair. Nothing has been fair since it showed up–”

“Well what do you want then, Martyn?” Jimmy questions, almost sounding desperate. “You don’t want to be near them, valid and fair. You want to respect Mumbo’s wishes to be around them, but which is it? I mean I can ask if he’ll come down here and talk about this with you, but I sincerely doubt he’ll want to leave their side for long. I’m trying to respect your wishes here, I’m trying to figure this out in a way that hurts either party the least amount possible, okay? I’ll go up there and ask Mumbo what he wants to do. If he wants to talk to you, great, he’ll come down here and you two can talk! Please just work with me here…”

If he wants to talk to you. If he wants to talk to you. If he wants to talk to you. If he wants to talk–

“..Forget it,” Martyn murmurs, standing up. “I’m gonna take a shower.. I don’t want to go to the temple all sweaty. You can reign it with us, I don’t care. If all of you and Mumbo want it, so be it.” With that, he turns around and walks into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. 

“Good Gods..” Joel groans, putting his face in his hands. 

“Honestly? It went better than I thought..” Apo says with a nervous chuckle, finally lifting her head up from the mat.

Grian frowns, looking at the door to the bathroom, before his eyes move back to the Canary. “..Timmy?”

The Canary grunts wordlessly, though the sound borders on a sob, his face having returned to being buried in his hands. He’s even brought his knees up a bit, resting his elbows on them as he takes shaky breaths and rubs at his eyes. “..’m trying. I’m really trying, I don’t.. What did I say, what did I do, what..” 

“Hey, it’s not your fault, Jim,” Joel murmurs, gently placing his hand on the Canary’s back, between his wings. “Martyn.. I don’t think he’s.. well these days.. His reactions are messy, and I don’t think it was what you did, I think it was more of what he imagined with his overthinking brain, you did everything right.”

Jimmy grunts again, falling sideways until his cheek lands on Joel’s shoulder. “..I want our Martyn back…” He mutters, turning to bury his face in the crook of the Red Panda’s neck. His voice is suspiciously shaky, like he’s holding back tears. “I just.. I want him back…”

Ironic, isn’t it? Mourning a living person on a Black Monday?

“He’s just on a rocky path right now,” Joel sighs, gently brushing Jimmy’s hair. “We’ll get him back, just.. Let him figure out what he wants, okay? I think right now.. It’s what he needs the most, some time for himself to think.” 

Jimmy takes a shuddering breath, deciding he’s just.. gonna sit there. Just for a little bit. It’s not every day Joel can handle this much touch, anyway. He should savor the contact. That’s definitely why. Definitely.  

Owen sighs sadly while watching the brothers-in-law, before he slowly stands up and circles to Grian, crouching down at his side with a whisper. “We can go to the roof, let Jimmy rest here, yeah?” He asks hesitantly, sending glances between the Sunbird and the duo. “I think both Mumbo and Scott would be better with you around..”

Grian hums with a small nod, moving to his feet and leaving the hut with Owen. It’s been.. a really long time since he’s seen Jimmy so genuinely upset, and even longer since he’s seen Joel hold the Canary like that. Not out of unwillingness, but it’s not really needed often. Everything is just a mess now… “..Owen, are you three gonna.. need anything from us today?” He mutters, glancing at the Sparrow. “I don’t know what you, Apo and Acho are planning but.. is there anything you need? Even just emotionally or giving you space?”

Owen stares at the ground as they circle the hut, moving toward the rocks on the side. “I– Space would be enough, to be honest. We will go to the temple with you all, but after that we are planning to just.. spend time together, just the three of us. Acho suggested a picnic in the forest?” He sighs, shaking his head. “Just space will be good, we don’t need anything else. And I don’t know how long we will be gone exactly, so.. keep that in mind and don’t worry if we are running too late?” He adds with a weak smile back to the Sunbird. 

Grian nods with a small smile of his own. “Okay. Take all the time you need, yeah? We don’t exactly have plans today that I know of.. We’ve all got our little rituals and routines for today I think, so it’s fine. Just.. stay safe. Y-yeah.”

“We will,” the Sparrow says, as he jumps up on the rock, and quickly climbs up to the roof. 

He expects to find the two on top cuddling, as Jimmy told them, but finds a different picture; Scott and Mumbo sitting side by side, the poor Avian still slightly shaking and desperately holding Mumbo's side with both hands, their head on the Vampire’s shoulder. Scott’s head is slightly tilted back, so the antlers don’t poke into Mumbo’s face, instead firm on the back of his head as the Vampire stares into the horizon, his bandaged and shaking right hand on his knee while the other is trapped in Scott’s grip. They seem to be somewhat comfortable. 

Owen turns back to Grian, raising an eyebrow and basically telling him “Your partner and the guy you bonded with, go on.”

Grian pouts dramatically with a small eyeroll, but sighs, slowly approaching the two. He’s not all that surprised to see Scott untied again, though he is plenty surprised to see the two being so touchy. Scott lashed out in the first place because of a boop, and yet… hmm. It’s strange, but the Sunbird chooses not to dwell on it.

“Good morning, fellas,” he greets, smiling tiredly. He almost goes to ask how they’re feeling, but quickly realizes Mumbo is.. likely still nonverbal. Yes or no questions, then. “..Feeling okay?”

Scott, shock of all shocks, just tries burrowing closer to Mumbo, as if it’s even possible at this point. Their shaking worsens, just slightly, just enough to send a pang through Grian’s chest. Gods, who is this and what have they done with Scott?

Mumbo scoffs at no one in particular, as he moves his right hand from his knee to Scott’s hand wrapped around his own arm, slowly tapping. Safe. Safe. Safe. Here. Here. Here. He then turns to Grian, frowning slightly as he shrugs, his whole posture basically saying “what do you think?”

The Sunbird grimaces. That’s fair. Very.. very fair. “R-right. Ah. Are you.. still wanting to head to the temple with us soon? Martyn isn’t, er.. happy about it, but you could bring Scott along? If both of you wanted…”

Of course Martyn isn’t happy, Mumbo left him behind, crying. His breath hitches, as he frowns down at the roof. He should apologize, he.. He wasn’t in the right mind when he did that, he knows he should have probably stayed back with him, but then.. Who would be here for Scott? 

He turns back to the avian next to him, tilting his head with worry, as he starts tapping again. Stay. Leave. Asking Scott what they want to do.

Scott’s ear flicks, and he nuzzles the Vampire with a soft grunt, tapping his foot in response. Scared. Not know. Then he taps out safe, but traces out a little question mark right after, effectively asking if it’s even safe to go along. It’s not exactly hard to guess why.

Mumbo hums, staying still for a moment, thinking what will be the best to do here. They’re safe, of course they are, the others won’t hurt them, especially if Mumbo–

His finger starts tapping almost on its own. Me. Here. Safe. They are safe with Mumbo. He will make sure of that. 

Scott grunts again, softer, slowly nodding while still expertly avoiding poking Mumbo with their antlers. Safe. Leave. Okay.  

Grian watches the exchange with a small, bittersweet smile. It makes him really happy to see Scott connect to someone other than himself, and to see Mumbo take care of them so diligently. He just.. really wishes it didn’t come at the cost of Martyn. Grian still firmly believes that this can be resolved, somehow, that it can’t possibly be so tense and on the verge of falling apart forever. But Martyn has always been stubborn.. and Grian is scared.  

Mumbo nods in response with a small smile, as he slowly stands up, helping Scott, the Avian’s hands still wrapped around his. He looks back to the rope on the ground, but then frowns and shakes his head, as he slowly drags Scott toward Owen, near the edge of the roof. 

The Sparrow flinches, realizing that Mumbo is not grabbing the rope, and sends worried glances between people on the roof, and the rope on the ground. He.. doesn’t want to tie Scott, but he understands that this is a risk… 

Owen sighs heavily, taking a step to his right, giving Mumbo and Scott a space above the rocks so they can jump down first, while he waits for Grian. 

Grian swallows, shuffling toward Owen and clearly fighting a cringe. “Why do I have a really bad feeling about this..?” He whispers, mostly talking to himself. It doesn’t make him feel great to restrain Scott, but after yesterday? What if they lash out again? What if something sets them off? It’ll be a quiet day, sure, but.. still… 

Scott seems a bit perplexed by the lack of rope, but doesn’t question it, verbally or otherwise. They just keep their hand clinging to Mumbo’s, following him as closely as they seem capable of following. It’s such a drastic shift from their usual demeanor that it genuinely makes Grian’s head spin a little. Seriously, what’s going on with them?

“How long do you think it will take Martyn to blow up?” Owen asks sheepishly, as he follows Mumbo and Scott down. “Because this? This is so much worse than it was, and he was already freaking out.”

Grian groans softly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Honestly.. at this point, he’s either gonna blow up the literal second he sees this or he’s gonna shut down all day again. I don’t even know which one would be worse…”

“Yeah, sorry, but good luck dealing with that after the temple, because I’ll be gone,” he chuckles weakly, clapping the Sunbird’s shoulder, as the four finally approach the front door. 

They are forced to halt, as Mumbo stands in front of the hut for a minute, just staring at the door, before he finally frowns and opens it, taking a step inside. Anxious, Owen immediately follows them, hoping that Martyn isn’t out of the shower yet. 

Grian whines under his breath, anxiety making his stomach churn. There are only so many ways this could go, but they’re basically all horrible. Ohh Void.

Jimmy swallows upon seeing Scott shuffle in, clutching Mumbo’s hand with that same desperation he saw earlier in their cuddling. He waves at the Vampire with a sheepish smile, trying not to make it obvious that his heart is absolutely racing. Oh gods. Oohhh gods this.. this could either go very badly or something pleasantly surprising will happen. He isn’t banking on the latter, but a man can hope. And pray. Just a little.

“Oh, dear Hearth..” Apo whispers, as she grabs Acho’s hand and drags them a few steps back, her eyes immediately darting to Martyn, who was standing with them before that. 

Martyn feels like his head is gonna blow up to pieces, killing him on the spot. Mumbo is back, and so is the Fucker that he wants dead . How dare it? How– How fucking dare it to cling to Mumbo like that, after what it did yesterday? Martyn has never seen the Vampire dissociate like that, and here it was now, holding onto him as if it didn’t hurt him?

Why is this happening? Why.. Why is Mumbo doing this to him?

“Mumbo–” He starts, and immediately flinches, as the Vampire starts moving toward him, dragging Scott by his side. Martyn fights the urge to jump away with a hiss, or even worse, jump on Scott and tear it apart, as they get closer. “What are you–”

The Siren’s breath hitches, as Mumbo slowly lifts up his bandaged hand and takes Martyn’s, for a second gently intertwining their fingers. Both their hands are covered in white, the result of their respective bites, and Martyn wants to cry– he doesn’t understand what Mumbo wants, what he needs to do. He chokes back a sob, as Mumbo lifts their interlocked fingers up to his face, and places a kiss on top of the Siren’s hand, his body answering with a tremble. 

He can see the others behind Mumbo tense, wondering how this will end. And worse, he can see it still by Mumbo’s side, holding onto the Vampire from behind, as if hiding from Martyn, but still not being able to move away. Before he has a moment to register that thought, Mumbo is suddenly tugging him closer, and he hits his face against the Vampire’s chest. He shudders, as Mumbo lets go of his hand, and instead moves it to the Siren’s neck, gently holding him closer to his heart. 

If Martyn had his perfect hearing from his childhood, he wonders if he would hear Mumbo’s heart right now. 

“S’rry…” Mumbo whispers, nuzzling into his temple and planting a kiss there, as Martyn fights back another sob. 

“Okay..” He mutters, closing his eyes and enjoying the contact with his partner. For a moment, he even forgets about Scott being there, and it was the best few seconds he got the whole day, before he finally opens his eyes and leans away. 

He meets the familiar, void-like eyes of his boyfriend, and sighs heavily, his eyes darting back to Scott. “Okay..” he repeats much weaker, as he nods and turns back to Mumbo. “If you’re sure..” He holds into the Vampire’s hand, and places his own kiss on his cheek. “Let’s.. go to the temple, okay? It’s a peaceful day.. We can.. be peaceful.”

Mumbo chuckles painfully, nodding at the Siren’s words, as he tightens his grip on Martyn’s hand. He doesn’t care that his own hand hurts at that, at least he’s holding onto Martyn’s left hand now, so he’s safe. This is good. This is more than good. 

Grian very nearly collapses in relief, muffling the remains of a stressed wheeze behind his hand. That went so much better than he thought it would holy shit–

Jimmy smiles, shoulders finally relaxing. Okay. Okay, good.. This works. This works! Great! Thank the goddamn Gods, wow.  

Scott actively avoids even looking at Martyn, eye glued to the floor as it tries not to tremble and take Mumbo’s attention from the Siren. Can’t be selfish. Can’t be needy, it’s been needy enough already, it’s been selfish enough. Its hand still shakes against its will, and it silently hopes that the Vampire either doesn’t notice or just ignores it. The Siren doesn’t need more reasons to want it dead.

D̴̦̒i̸̗͐d̸̜̏ ̴̳͝y̸̿͜o̴̦͝ủ̵̜.̶̜̏.̸͍̆ ̶̡̈e̴̫̍ṿ̵̑ĕ̷̥r̷̛̝ ̵̂ͅḁ̸̈p̵̯̈o̷͎̓l̷͎̓ȯ̷̱g̶̙͆i̸̠͋ź̵̤e̸̹̒ ̸͔̾f̴̬̈o̸͍͘r̴̜̋ ̵̳̉h̸̪͝u̶̟͆r̶̪͋t̸̢̑i̶̧̽n̸̼͘ǵ̴̪ ̶̻͊t̷̤̾h̶̟̆ë̴̗́ ̵͙̕d̶̺̅ũ̵̦ḑ̶͑ê̵͜?̸̘̅

Yes? …Didn’t I? I’m not that forgetful.

D̷̺̏i̶̞͊i̶͖̎i̴̬̔i̴̛̥d̶̟̓ ̷̖͒y̴͓͌o̶̝͗u̷̖͆ ̶̺̆t̵̠͐h̸̡̋o̷̢͐ų̶̾g̴̣̉h̴̋͜?̸̭͆

…Stop messing with my head. Go away.

.̴̢̈.̴̫͗.̵̣̐.̵̠̚.̸̱͂.̴̍͜S̸̗̐u̸͖͊r̵̩̀ĕ̵̻,̸̼̈́ ̵̠̌k̶̥̍i̸̿͜d̶̒͜d̸̹͐ŏ̷̺.̵͉̍

“I’m.. actually very surprised– WELL!” Owen exclaims, putting his hands on his hips. “Are we moving or not? It’s already past noon, we still need to get to the temple!” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Joel huffs, sitting up on the mat and rubbing his eyes. “I couldn’t even sleep for two hours, you all are evil..”

“You don’t have to come with us, Joel,” Apo says, turning back to the Panda, worried. “You can stay and sleep, we understand.”

“Nah, I’m coming, gimme a minute,” Joel yawns, standing up and with a quick stretch, turning toward the bathroom. “Be right back,” he hums, as he disappears behind the door. 

Grian takes a breath, finally managing to will his feet into movement, walking over to Scar. The Vex is on his own mat, petting a contented Jellie and taking deep breaths of his own. “Ready to go, Scar?”

“..Yeah,” Scar sighs, giving the Sunbird a small smile. “I still don’t know why you insist on bringing me along, Gri, it’s not like I remember if I’ve got anyone to mourn.”

“I don’t want you to be alone,” Grian insists, giving Jellie a scratch behind her ears before she hops up on Scar’s shoulder, and Grian helps him to his unsteady feet. “I know you, and I know you’re gonna be wracking your brain and guilt spiraling over things that aren’t your fault. You didn’t choose to have your bloody memories taken, alright? So I’m dragging you to the temple and we’re gonna spend the day together. That’s the whole point!”

The Vex huffs, amused by the dramatic mini speech. “If you say so, G.” He sends a quick glance toward Mumbo, and his smile drops, followed by a shaky sigh. He’s with Martyn now, and Scott is also there, so now is not the time, but.. They really need to sit down together from time to time, just him, Mumbo and Grian, like they used to do before.

Catching that particular, familiar face expression, Grian’s eyes soften, as he wraps his hand around Scar’s, dragging him toward the door. “Everything will be fine. Come on, let’s wait outside.” 

“Joel! Hurry up!” Jimmy raises his voice, looking back at the bathroom, as the Red Panda’s voice answers from the inside.

“Give a man a minute to go to the toilet, good lord! And the lights are flickering by the way, someone has to change them, and it’s not gonna be me!”

The Canary groans, while Apo and Acho chuckle, passing him by and following Scar and Grian outside. Another five minutes, and the whole group is finally out of the hut, slowly walking to the heart of the village. 

The whole atmosphere of Tbilisi sharply contrasts itself from the previous day. The air is somber, the red is gone, replaced by black and the occasional speckles of white. There are far fewer villagers out and about, and those that are carry a heavy air around them. The whole of the village is in mourning today, all for their own reasons, just like the Outsiders. 

The temple is sparsely crowded– most of the people there are, strangely enough, hybrids. There are very few humans here, and those that are are by themselves. Some villagers seem to be praying, others seem to be.. simply lingering, speaking to each other in low tones or holding each other silently. There are all sorts of offerings under the different pedestals for each God and Goddess, mostly flowers or small rolls of parchment. It’s almost as if the world itself has grayed.

The group is relatively silent as they enter the temple, with Owen and Acho following Apo as she goes to pray, and the others each grabbing a candle from the large basket at the front. It’s a bit awkward, what with them having no prayer to accompany the lighting and placing of their candles, but it’s the principle of the thing at this point. Instead of praying, they just think about those they mourn. Those they miss, hoping silently to themself to they’re safe and warm at home. Maybe it counts as prayer in some eyes, maybe not. It’s not their problem.

Scott, meanwhile, looks around curiously. It was here yesterday night, with the.. incident, but it hadn’t really paid much attention to its surroundings. Even then, everything looks.. very different today. It feels incredibly out of place here, but it can’t leave, can it? Maybe it isn’t tied to someone anymore, but it’s still holding Mumbo’s hand.. It’d be rude to let go… so it shuffles beside them, following silently, trying to make itself invisible. If only.

The waiting lines to the pedestal with eternal fire are long, people surrounding it from every direction, as they light up the fire, and followed by murmurs of prayers, put the candles in the sand, surrounding the pedestal. The group splits in different lines, hoping that it will make the process faster, as they slowly shuffle to the center. 

At some point, Mumbo hears light sobbing, as a family walks away from the pedestal, all of the members wearing white flowers over their black clothing, a sign of recently lost. He ducks his head, looking away, trying to ignore the grieving of another family, bitter and selfish thoughts echoing through his mind. Will his parents mourn him like this? Did they perhaps already do so? After so many years.. they might have lost hope. Mumbo would understand if this was true, sometimes he can’t find that hope either– but then there are fingers intertwined with his own, with Martyn’s light breathing by one side, and slightly shaking hands wrapping around his arm on the other, and he thinks that maybe not everything is lost yet. 

Mumbo doesn’t pray. They never learned a single prayer, despite their dad being religious, because both him and their papa wanted them to have their own opinions and choices in life. If they didn’t want to pray to a god that either abandoned the world, or stayed but doesn’t give any attention to them, well, it’s Mumbo’s choice. 

So as soon as he approaches the pedestal, he lights up the candle with the eternal flames and puts it into the ground, repeating in mind all the names he can remember. He fights the heaviness in his heart, as he reaches the final name, remembering Jill dearly. He can’t do that very long. As much as he wishes to give her an appropriate prayer, or an actual thought, remembering all those moments together.. Every time he reaches memories that deep, memories that emotional, he takes a step back. So that’s what he does, as he quickly stands up, slightly startling both Martyn and Scott.

“I’m ready to go,” he says, his eyes locked on his candle in the ground. Martyn hums by his side, adding his own candle before he follows Mumbo up, tugging him toward the flower fields outside the temple. 

Scott blinks, shuffling after them, half curious and half just not wanting to let go. Wanting. Huh. It’s had more of those lately, hasn’t it? Odd… and kind of nice. It likes this feeling. Wanting.

The fields are pretty, and clearly where the two next to it are going, but it’s stopped in its tracks by the pond nearby. It.. almost forgot. It bites its inner cheek, tapping Mumbo’s arm as gently as possible. Go. I need rock. Is it absurd? Yes. Does Scott care? Not particularly.

Mumbo looks back at them with a frown, tilting his head. He hesitantly nods, facing them, ready to follow, because he’s not letting them go anywhere alone. Help. You. ? He taps back, his grip on Martyn’s hand tightening, while the Siren looks between them with a frown of his own. 

Scott grunts softly, shoulders hunched. This is what it didn’t want, it didn’t want to upset the Siren again. It taps again. You go. Do not need help. Thank you. Go. Go. Siren. Go. 

“You know I can see you tapping, and I know Morse Code, right?” Martyn asks with a scoff, Mumbo immediately tensing, as he looks at the Siren.

Scott shrinks into themself more, biting its inner cheek again. It’s messing up again, it’s messing up again! It huffs, giving up on trying to make either of them understand. If Mumbo insists on being with it.. fine. With another huff, it turns around and approaches the pond, very carefully slipping its hand from Mumbo’s and crouching by the waterbed. It frowns to itself, seeing steam waft off the water. That means it’s.. hot, right? Right, boiling water. Hot springs. Its ear flicks, and it dips its hand in the water, fishing out a small smooth stone and holding it up to squint at it. Steam and water drip from the rock and Scott’s hand, but it remains unbothered, inspecting the stone carefully. Hmm.. this one should work.

Martyn is baffled when Scott just huffs and walks away, and by the looks of it, even Mumbo is slightly surprised by that, but both of them immediately follow it to the waters, one more enthusiastic than the other. Then comes a second surprise, with Scott dipping its hand in the water, and even Martyn can’t fight back the flinch that follows. Those waters around the temple are boiling, that’s a burn right there after something like that, but Scott didn’t even wince. What–

Martyn huffs, taking another step closer to Mumbo, his right hand now also gripping onto the Vampire as he holds his elbow, his other hand still firm in Mumbo’s. “What are you doing?” He asks hesitantly, looking down at the Avian. 

Scott glances back with a blink, tilting its head. Oh. Martyn talked to it. Without hostility. Huh. Weird. It frowns, looking at the rock in its hand and then up and Mumbo. This.. hm. It doesn’t want to upset them… this might upset them, what should it do here exactly? It grimaces, sitting cross-legged on the ground and resting the stone on its knee to sign. ‘B-L-O-C-K NOSE PLEASE.’  

“What?” Martyn asks, confused and slightly irritated, but Mumbo immediately does as asked, and elbows the Siren to also follow. With an annoyed grunt, the Siren also pinches his nose. 

Scott huffs with a small nod, turning back to the rock and grabbing it again, holding the small stone in their hand. They bring their now free hand to their mouth, and with zero hesitation or caution whatsoever, pierces their pointer finger on one of their teeth. They hold it there for a second, before removing it just as fast and spitting away excess blood, using the black now dripping from their finger to draw some sort of symbol on the rock. It repeats this a couple times, piercing different points of their finger until.. whatever they’re drawing with their own damn blood is apparently done. Then they stare at it. Just.. stare. They stare at the rock, at the symbol they just drew– which, now that it’s completed, is clearly the symbol for the Goddess of Death– a small furrow to their brow and that frown still on their face.

“Well, isn’t this a bit creepy..” Martyn whispers, looking down at the rock disturbed, before his eyes move back to Mumbo, his worry seeping through. Surprisingly, he finds Mumbo still pretty much here , as he stares down at Scott while blinking in wonder. He.. expected another reaction, but considering that its blood isn’t red, and definitely doesn’t smell like normal blood, Mumbo probably took it better. 

“What is that for?” Mumbo asks, the Siren immediately letting out a heavy sigh. He’s talking more. That’s good. 

Scott doesn’t respond, not with a sign or more tapping. They stare for a couple more seconds, before taking a deep inhale, and then ever so gently blowing on the rock. Immediately, the symbol they drew flares to life, glowing a bright white. Then it fades into a sort of purple-ish pink color, strangely enough matching the exact shade of Scott’s gloves. They stare at the glowing for a moment longer, before their hand moves to the ground and they rake their claws through the dirt. They dig a small hole, place the stone almost reverently inside, and then cover it back up. More staring. More frowning. 

Their hands move together, and they gently rub at the small indents in their finger. They sit there silently, wiping the blood away, and then.. the wounds close. The tiniest sight of dark cyan and black seem to fill the little piercing wounds, and are then replaced by frostbite-tinted skin, as if never blemished in the first place. All while they continue to stare at what they’ve made in the ground.

.̸͍͛.̵͈̈.̷͈͛Ÿ̶̦́o̵͔͝u̵̧͠ ̵̪̏k̷̠̃n̶̟̋o̷̘͘w̶̮̉ ̶̜͋y̷̙͋o̴̠͝u̶̲̓ ̶̧͘d̷̟̃ǒ̶̤n̸̼̅'̸͎̂t̴̜͆ ̸̫̚g̶̞̃ò̴̰t̸̜̎t̸̡̒a̸̟̐ ̸͔̇d̵͎̈ộ̸ ̵̤̈́t̵͍̒h̶͖́i̷̖̽s̷̯͆,̴̛͈ ̵͙͋r̸̪͠i̵̪͠g̷͇̕h̵͎͗t̶̫̔.̵̲̂.̴͍̔?̴͍̌ ̸̯̄Ă̴͕ḻ̶̎i̸̞̽n̶̤͊a̷̰͝ṛ̴͆?̴̰͒

…Just shut up.

“What– What was that for?" Martyn repeats Mumbo’s question with a frown, slightly uncomfortable. 

The Vampire just stares down at the ground, his head still slightly tilted. “Huh.. Some kind of.. ritual for this day, maybe?” He suggests hesitantly, followed by a shrug. “Is it alright?” He asks Scott, pointing toward the ground. “Did it do what you wanted?”

Scott slowly nods, staring for a few moments more. Then they reach back into the damn water and pull out another stone, this time carving into it with their claw. They cut a single word into the stone, make another, much smaller hole, and gently place the stone face-up to rest right above where they’ve made.. what now looks like a tiny grave. They finally stand up and back away, scratching idly at their neck. The second stone, in messy font, now reads BROTHER.

B̷̜͗ű̷̪d̴͓͑d̷͙̈́y̷̹̒.̸̤̑.̶̰͋.̸̢͐

Stop.

I̸͎͂'̴̤̄m̸͇̑.̶̮̈́.̶̗́ ̴͈͛A̶͕̕l̶͓̓í̷͔,̶̦͊ ̴̙̀I̸̳̿'̵̭͐m̸̞̔ ̷̫͒ĥ̵̪ẻ̴̪ŕ̶͉e̵͕͛.̵̤͋.̸̞̚ ̵̟͗I̴̮͘'̵̟͋m̷̩̾ ̸̱̿r̸͚̈́i̴̭̎g̵̤̔h̸̚͜t̶͇̊ ̴̗̓h̶̳͂e̵̱͛r̶͇̅ė̸̘,̵̺̊ ̶̱̆p̸̮͊l̵̗̄e̴̮̋a̵̟͊ŝ̸̢ḙ̴̐–

Xornoth is dead. I don’t know why, out of all my goddamn hallucinations, you bother me most. But he’s dead. He is gone , so shut the hell up already.

Ï̴͉-̴̥̈́I̵̼͝ á̶̩m̶̢͋ ̶͍͘d̶͎̂ẹ̴͊ȁ̴̡d̷̨̀,̷͎̀ ̵͙̂Ȧ̸̲l̵͖̕ị̷̉,̶̠̃ ̴͕͛b̴̲̈́u̷̠̇t̴͖̐ ̶͙̽I̸̾ͅ'̶̨͆ṃ̶̈ ̸̟̉ṙ̸̼i̷̳͆g̵͍̿h̴̜̆t̵͓̔ ̵̳̋ẖ̶̐è̶̪ŕ̵̲ë̴͙-̸̫̂!̸̯͆

If you were a piece of my brother you’d get my fucking name right. Scott can’t help but mentally snarl at the hallucination, claws digging hard into its neck. It needs the voice to shut up, needs the fake to leave.

.̴̤͠.̷̪̇.̶̘̇W̵̺̒h̵̹̐a̸̳͐t̶̛̞?̷̤̀

My name is Scott now. I stopped being Alinar the day my brother died .

Ȉ̵̭.̴͈̉.̵͖͐ ̴̙͌Í̶̧ ̵͖͂k̵̝͊n̶̢͆e̵͍̒w̶̠̎ ̴̙̽t̷͙̎h̸̢̔a̷͎̍t̷̠̽,̵̜̃ ̴͕͊w̴̙̏h̸͇͌a̵̤͗-̶͇͋ ̶͎͊Į̷̍ ̴̠̓ḱ̸͙n̵̬͐ò̴̩w̴̢̔ ̷͍̃t̴̺̀h̵̝͗a̸̗͂ţ̶̛!̴̞͝ ̶̭̎Ḭ̸̄-̴͎̂I̷̲̓'̶̣̔m̶͉̏ ̷͍̐ŝ̶̖ỏ̵̧r̸̀͜r̴̠̀y̴̺̒,̵̦͋ ̴͉̆w̸͚͠â̷̖i̵͘͜t̷̨̿ ̷̲́I̵̳̚-̶̫̂ ̴͉̍S̶̙͋c̶̲̆ọ̴̍t̵̹͒t̵̂͜,̴͎̅ ̵̭̍y̸̹̆ȯ̶̹ŭ̵̱'̵̣̅r̷̻̋e̶̥͛ ̶̧͠r̴͙͛i̷͔͆g̸̚ͅh̷̳́t̷͎͠ ̸̢͂b̸͕̃ü̶̖d̵̢̆d̴̰́ŷ̷̼ ̸̜̋I̴̗̽'̸̼̌m̸̝̚ ̶̖́s̸͉̋ȯ̶̰r̷̫̎r̷̼̂y̶̰̐–

I’m not his buddy either, not anymore. Your impression is shit and you need to leave me alone .

Ä̴̦́l̷͓̈– S̵̪͂c̸͙̾ǒ̷ͅt̵͍͂t̸̳̿ ̷̜̽y̵̦͗o̷͍̕u̸͜͝'̵͎͝r̷̦̓e̴͙͐ ̸͉̿h̵̩͝u̶̓ͅr̶͜͠t̵̤͆i̴̱͘n̶͚̓ġ̶̹ ̷̧̍ȳ̶̭o̶͙̓u̶͚̔r̴̜̊s̸̞̃ĕ̴̙ľ̶̫f̴̢̒ ̷̞̈́s̶̈́͜ț̴̆o̷̿ͅp̴͖͝-̸̕ͅ ̸̲̔y̸͍̓ȍ̴͚ŭ̷̹r̸̤̓ ̸̦̚n̶̲̋e̸͔͋c̶͈̑k̴̝͠-̷̻̔!̸̦̀

Shut up shut up shut up shut UP-!

“Scott, you’re doing it again..” Mumbo whispers, biting down on his lip, before he winces, blinking at the Avian, realizing what he just said. He lets out a shaky sigh, as he moves in front of Scott, slowly bringing his hands to theirs so he can gently move their claws away from their throat. 

For the first time, Martyn stays silent, deciding not to ruin the moment. Scott had a brother. Had being important here, seeing as Scott just made a mini version of a grave. He wonders what happened, but even he isn’t cruel enough to ask, and now Scott is having another breakdown and letting Mumbo do this is scary. He’s terrified, but he can’t tell his boyfriend to stop, can he? He can’t tell him to step back. 

Scott grunts, hand flexing as its eye darts to Mumbo’s face. It doesn’t.. understand. It hurt him the last time he did something like this. Why does he still care so much? Why is he so.. gentle? It doesn’t make sense. Scott’s learning to want, learning to feel, and yet still so many things make no sense. Its eye burns, just a little, that same feeling from the market when it found the gloves and.. cried? Does it want to cry? It feels pathetic enough already, it can’t cry-!

Y̴̞͆e̵̜͆s̵̱͛ ̴̞̊y̷̗͆ơ̷̞u̴̡͘ ̶̲͠c̷̦̓a̶̜̽n̵͎̈́.̸̠̓.̷͕̔

Scott grits their teeth and makes a small, choked-off whine in the very back of their throat, eye darting back to the tiny rock grave in the ground. Their breath wheezes for a moment, and their claws flex again, making an aborted motion toward their neck. The jerky movement is only stopped by Mumbo, hand still wrapped around their wrist. They keep reacting to something.  

Mumbo hums, turning back to the rock on the ground, putting the pieces together. The way Scott’s face is scrunching, the way their eye is shining under the sunlight, the sound they make.. “You can cry if you want, Scott,” he whispers, looking back at the Avian, and making sure he’s holding their hands strong enough to make them stop, but not enough to make it hurt too much.

Scott grunts in protest, firmly shaking their head. Their face scrunches again, twisting into a silent snarl. Their jaw flexes, and their arms jerk in Mumbo’s grip, and their eyes are locked on Mumbo’s hands, and they bare their teeth–

Then they jerk their head to the side with a whimper, sinking their teeth firmly into their own forearm past their jacket sleeve. They wheeze softly, squeezing their eye shut while their hand spasms. 

Don’t bite him. Don’t. Bad dog. No. He is helping. Always helping, always. Calm down. Calm.. Calm… 

“Oh..” 

Did Scott– Have they.. done this before, or did they see him– Oh.. Oh Gods, he feels sick. 

“Breathe, Scott,” Mumbo mutters, his grip on their wrist still firm. “Calm down.. You’re safe..” he looks down at Scott’s other hand and slightly taps on their wrist. Safe. Safe. Safe.

Martyn feels like he might throw up, as his eyes dart from Scott to Mumbo, and down between their hands. Was this just another thing that Scott did, like digging into its scalp or throat, and it was just a coincidence, or did it see something– 

He exhales sharply, looking back at Mumbo’s bandaged hands. No, Jimmy.. Jimmy would have said if he saw something wrong with Mumbo’s hands, right? But what if– What if it was under Scott’s bite, what if–

No. No, Mumbo wouldn’t do that anymore. He got better. He’s better now. If he did it, he would have come to him, or to Scar and Grian. It’s okay.. Everything is fine. 

The tapping snaps Scott out of its reverie just enough to notice what it’s doing. It’s biting itself. It.. bit itself so it wouldn’t bite Mumbo. It tastes its own blood. Oh. It.. really doesn’t like this taste. This taste is worse than Mumbo’s blood. This taste is familiar, this–

Its eye burns. The wrong eye is burning. The eye it shouldn’t feel anymore burns.

Scott yanks their teeth from their arm with the same level of urgency they bit down to begin with, the hand in Mumbo’s grip practically vibrating as they hunch over and cough harshly, spitting black blood onto the ground. Their free hand wipes vigorously at their mouth as they grunt and whine, their distress visibly spiking.

“It’s alright, Scott. I’m here, you’re safe,” Mumbo murmurs, trying to ignore the smell of rot making him lightheaded. 

“Mumbo? Maybe you should–” Martyn takes a step forward, placing his hand on the Vampire’s shoulder, but Mumbo shakes his head, frowning.

“It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“S̴͖͝ọ̴̅r̸͙͑.̷̨͌.̸̘͌ ̶̛̤S̶̫̋ǫ̵͐r̴̼͋ŕ̵̖ÿ̵̡́.̶̳́.̶͈̃.̵̤̍” Scott wheezes, coughing again. Ohh speaking feels so very wrong, but it’s meant to apologize when it does this. It’s.. hurting Mumbo again. The smell is bad for him, hurting him, it can’t just.. It can’t… It’s being so bad…  

“S̴͓͒̈́̆H̸̛̫̹̺͉̀͒Ǘ̴̪̭̤̓̕͜T̶͍̮́̈́ ̶̨̾U̵̼̗̬̍̏P̶̫̍̿!” The wingless Avian snarls, finally collapsing to their knees with a hoarse sob, their wrist still held in Mumbo’s hand forcing their bleeding arm to stay above their head, black slowly staining their sleeve and spreading. “Ṡ̶̞h̶̢͚͗u̷̧̬͝t̶̗̰̊͆͐ͅ ̶͓͕̃̅ͅu̷̠͎̇͜p̴̫̥̠͊̿̒͠ ̶̧͔̹̔͒͋̕s̴͚̣͘h̸̘̯̻̋ǔ̶̲̠̰̚t̴̛͇̝̬͐́ ̴̢̞̲̉͘͝u̴̞͇̫͂p̶̳̈ ̴̢̠͚̹̕ş̴̬̽͆͜͠ͅh̷̠̬̞̐ͅư̶̭̆t̷̢̬͐̿̈́͛ ̶͕͙̟̰̈́ű̴̡̬͎͍̈́͒p̸̺̪̒..!”

“Scott, this is– what?” Mumbo frowns, finally understanding what is happening. “Scott I don’t know what you’re hearing, but don’t give it any attention, focus on me, I’m here, okay? Whatever you’re hearing is in your head, it’s not real.” He continues tapping gently, trying to calm the Avian down with a familiar pattern. Safe. Safe. Safe.

Scott sobs again, alongside a soft gasp. Not real. Not real.. It’s not real… Focus on.. on… Safe… Don’t give it attention, calm, focus, safe–

They sit there and catch their breath for a while, shaking with the occasional choked sob. Black stains a massive patch of their sleeve by the time they seem cognizant again, curling their finger and gently tapping Mumbo’s hand. Off. Please.

“Okay..” Mumbo hums with a nod, and slowly lets go of Scott’s hand. They take a shaky breath, trembling hands pulling their jacket off so they can inspect the bite mark on their forearm. The blood flow has slowed considerably, and they wipe at the wound with their glove to get the rest, allowing a much larger version of what happened earlier in their finger. The bite seems to become packed with.. what genuinely looks like skulk, seeming to fill in the wound and slowly replace it with scar tissue at such a rapid pace it’s actually mind-boggling. Slowly, but still much too fast for logic to explain, the nasty bite is replaced by a faint scar, and Scott pulls their jacket on again. They’re clearly unbothered by the black staining a patch of their right sleeve, or the fainter black now on their left glove.

“Ew,” Martyn states with a shiver. “Just.. ew.”

Mumbo frowns at the Siren, making him wince and take a step back, his hands in the air. “Are you feeling better?” Mumbo asks softly, turning back to the Avian, his eyes darting from Scott’s face to their forearm where the new scar is. His bites.. also tend to close really fast. Gods.  

Scott hums weakly, finally standing on shaky legs and rubbing at their face, wiping away the lingering tears. They nod slowly, avoiding eye contact but moving to the Vampire’s side again, tapping his arm. Find others now. I am okay.

Mumbo nods, giving Scott a small smile and sending a last glance toward the rock on the ground, before he turns around to search for the others. It doesn’t take long, as his eyes immediately fall on the group standing in the flower fields to their right. Tugging both Scott and Martyn, he guides them to the others. Martyn looks between the two with a heavy sigh. Whatever. 

“We’re here,” Mumbo calls out, as they get closer to the group. The others turn around, most of them eyes wide, as Scar breaks into a bright grin.

“MJ! Jumbolio! Good to have you back, we were just wondering what the three of you were doing for so long!” It's very clear that by Good to have you back, Scar wasn’t talking about all three of them, or physically being back, but no one comments, so neither does Mumbo.

“Yeah, ah.. sorry,” the Vampire says sheepishly. 

“Okay, so we are done with this, right?” Owen asks, jumping into the conversation. “Because if we are–”

“We are, yep, I think we can split up now,” Apo interrupts, and before anyone can say something, she grabs both Owen and Acho, and starts dragging them away. “We will see you in a few hours!” She calls back, before they cross the white bridge, and disappear into the village. 

“And there they go,” Joel mutters with a snort. 

Grian chuckles lightly. “Alright, so.. Who does have a concrete plan for today? I-if any?”

~

Apo drapes a picnic blanket on the grass, smoothing out the edges and sitting alongside the other two. Her brothers in all but blood. The air feels.. so heavy. None of the three seem willing to speak for a while, so they just sit in silence.

It’s several long, near-suffocating minutes before someone finally speaks. “...Spidey,” Acho murmurs. “Remember.. her little campsite by that waterfall? In the corner of the Clearing?”

“Yeah,” Owen huffs, clearing his throat. “We had sleepovers there some nights. I remember.”

“That stupid lopsided crown I made her,” Apo croaks, chuckling weakly. “The thing was so messy and barely stayed on her head, but she never took it off..! And those little.. What did she call them, Sussy’s?”

“The Pocket Sussy’s!” Acho laughs wetly. “So many of those tiny plushies she kept smuggling supplies for!”

“I still don’t know how the Organizer never caught her, oh my gosh,” Owen giggles, voice rough with emotion.

“..Soup,” Apo whispers after another bout of silence. “Ellie.”

“Best medic I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting,” Owen huffs, rubbing idly at his right leg. “And alchemist. A potion-maker.”

“She could be a Cleric if she wanted,” Acho agrees, nodding along. “She’d.. be good at it. I bet she and Cordelia would get along.”

“Nooo, Cordelia would make the poor girl cry,” Apo protests weakly.

“Or the other way around, Soup could be fierce when she wanted to be,” Owen points out. “They’d either butt heads or be two peas in a pod, I think.”

Apo huffs, fidgeting with her tail. “...Rasbi,” she whispers.

Owen flinches, taking a shaky breath. “One.. hell of a fighter, she was.”

“Yeah,” Acho murmurs, pulling stars knees to stars chest. “A bit.. scary sometimes, honestly.”

“She was really nice though,” Apo huffs. “One of the few full-blooded Demons I’ve met. We didn’t get many back home– at least I didn’t meet any.”

“A little on the violent side in the right circumstances, but Gods they were protective as anything,” Owen laughs lightly. “Remember.. Hah, remember that one time they stabbed me in the shoulder ‘cause I snuck up on them and.. and Krow?”

“Oh, Soup was so mad!” Acho recalls with weak laughter of their own. “At the both of you! I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so pissed or Rasbi so upset!”

“She felt so baaaad, ” Apo wheezes. “I swear she cried, it was so funny but so tragic!”

“It took ages to convince her I wasn’t upset,” Owen sighs. The next name comes easier than expected. “Graecie.”

“Bird expert and literally the only one of us that understood how to work the farms,” Acho wistfully reminisces. “She taught us how to make flower crowns..”

“I was so bad at it,” Apo whines, tail flicking as she loses herself in the memories. “She was so encouraging but I was awful at making flower crowns…”

“Only ‘cause your hands would get hot when you got excited,” Owen teases with a snicker. “You caught most of them on fire, Apo.”

“I knooowwww!” The Demon bemoans.

“She and Magic were the best of friends,” Acho mutters, shifting around until they’re laying down on the blanket. “The Girlboss duo. Remember that?”

Owen hums. “Those two were utterly inseparable, yeah..”

“..Kyle,” Owen murmurs, glancing at Acho. The Fae winces, but is the first to speak.

“Saved my life,” star whispers, fidgeting with the edge of the picnic blanket. “Had that dumb ongoing rivalry with Krow from the start.”

“That whole situation was messy,” Apo agrees with a cringe. “Didn’t Kyle try putting Krow in the Cage once?”

“Yup,” Owen deadpans, fidgeting with their braid. “Didn’t get very far since the guards were the only ones with keys, but he sure tried. Still don’t know why Krow didn’t stab him for it.”

“It wanted to, believe me,” Acho snickers. “I had to play peacemaker for weeks.”

“Speaking of.. Krow…” Apo whispers, now glancing at Owen. Just in case.

The Sparrow jolts, taking another shuddering breath. “It was.. in your starting group, Acho. You knew it before the two of us..”

“Mhm,” Acho hums, keeping a watchful eye over stars brother. “It was.. temperamental, heh. One heck of a temper. Scary good with a knife too, sheesh.”

“It acted exactly like the Dragon it was,” Apo agrees, a soft smile on her face. “A bit hot-headed but just as protective as Rasbi.. if not moreso.”

“...I found it incredible that we managed to bond with it,” Owen mutters, staring at the sky and taking steadying breaths. His eye burns. “Especially you, Apo. It hated you with a passion for a while..”

“It wanted me dead,” Apo bluntly corrects with a snort. “Wanted me dead for months, Owen. I’m surprised to this day that I managed to get it to talk to me civilly.”

“Never did find out how that happened,” Acho hums. Apo shrugs, just as clueless.

Owen hums, resting his elbows on his knees to prop his chin up in his hands. Talking about Krow always left a.. sour taste in his mouth. He didn’t exactly have a grudge against it, he.. missed it, more than anything. He’ll regret what he was forced to do to Krow for the rest of his days, but.. something always gave him such a strange feeling when the Dragon was brought up.

The Sparrow breathes. She hugs her knees, tucking the lower half of her face in her arms. She breathes again. Her vision goes orange.

“Shame its death was so pathetic,” He murmurs casually, as if making idle conversation. “So.. anticlimactic.”

The other two freeze, both of their eyes snapping to the Sparrow. Acho sits up, rigid. “You.”

Owen’s throat snorts, orange eyes gleaming as his mouth twists into a cruel grin. “Me. Always so dramatic, little Fae.”

“Today, of all days?” Apo whispers, nearly incredulous.

“Aww, am I hurting your feewings?” The General fake pouts, tilting his head mockingly. It looks so wrong on Owen’s face. “Poor thing. Whatever shall you do?”

“Leave,” Acho snarls, eyes flashing silver for just a moment. They’ve never done that before. “Leave us be for one damn day, you piece of shit. ”

Owen’s face twitches again, and his left eye flickers from orange to brown. He blinks. Then his eyes fill with tears.

“..Owen,” Apo breathes, moving to the Sparrow’s side in an instant.

“Sorry,” Owen croaks, wings folding closer as he begins to shake. “Fuck, fuck ‘m sorry–”

“That wasn’t you,” Acho insists, shuffling to his other side and stubbornly burrowing against him. “You didn’t say that, that was Him. ”

“It came out of my mouth,” Owen whimpers, muffling a sob behind his hand. “Fuck. Fuck. ”

“It’s okay,” Apo mutters, holding him firmly. “You’re forgiven, it’s okay, it’s not your fault.”

“Sorry.. sorry, sorry, I’m so sorry…”

“Krow’s not angry,” Acho whispers, gently running a hand through the older’s wing. “Neither are we. It’s alright, I promise. It’s okay.”

But Owen doesn’t seem to hear them anymore, as more sobs and whispered apologies fill their little spot of the forest, interrupted by patient assurances. They thought it would be better with time, Owen thought he would be better with time, and yet here they were, such horrific words spilling out of his mouth on this holy day. The day that is supposed to be for their dead friends. 

But with tears, comes the realization that he hadn’t cried yet. None of them had. They didn’t grieve those deaths properly, and now with one of them crying after such a conversation, it all snaps back into place. One follows the other, as Acho and Apo hold onto Owen and dissolve into a collective sobbing mess, finally letting their guards down and allowing themselves to face the reality that they are, truly ... the only survivors.

---

Scar is usually indifferent to his Vex heritage. He doesn’t hate it, doesn’t love it either, he kind of just.. is a Vex. But tonight there’s a blue moon in the sky, so Scar’s eyes are silver, and he has tiny silver wings, and a pale blue tail of all things. All small, because Vex are small, and it’s.. really uncomfortable, actually. He isn’t meant to have the motor control for a tail or wings, so the extra appendages are purely magical, giving Scar.. phantom sensations, as it were. That’s truly the best way to describe it. The wings are tiny little things, not nearly the impressive wingspan of his avian friends, they don’t even reach past his shoulders! The tail, too, is stupid tiny– the thin little spade-tipped whip just barely brushes past his knees, it’s so weird!

Blue moons, unfortunately, also come with.. urges. Some are more easily ignorable than others. He wants to cause trouble. He has this purely instinctive urge to sow chaos, to cause pain, to make someone hurt. It’s a terrifying feeling, one he does his best to abate by hugging the everloving heck out of Grian.

The Sunbird takes it like a champ, all things considered. He barely even wheezes, which is honestly pretty impressive, considering the sheer muscle Scar puts into this particular hug. Clinging like this is the only way to keep himself from getting into trouble. If his grip loosens, Grian knows to cling right back until Scar comes to his senses again. It’s a good system, one that Mumbo’s helped with in the past. 

Scar.. really hopes the Vampire spends some time with them tonight. Just a little! He doesn’t need much! Just.. Just a little cuddling. Just a little talking, a little bit of catching up, just goofing around like they used to. He misses Mumbo. A lot.. and poor Grian can only take so much bear hugging!

…

Honestly, he shouldn’t be surprised. What was the saying that people in this village used? “Remember the sun, here comes the sunshine”?

As if hearing his thoughts, Mumbo opens the door, entering the hut. He looks slightly lost, and is visibly very upset, and it doesn’t take a genius to realize why. When they came back and Martyn and Grian followed Mumbo and Scott to the roof, they apparently had a talk, and Scott was once again restrained. The Vampire didn’t seem to like that. 

Mumbo meets Martyn’s eyes for a moment, tilting his head toward his platonic partners, with a quick sign. ‘TALK LATER.’ Receiving a sigh and a nod from his boyfriend, he smiles at him as gently as he can, and slowly moves toward Scar and Grian, who seem to have found a place to cuddle on the bed. Guess it was Scar’s day today. 

“Hi,” he whispers softly, dropping down on the bed. “Mind if I join you?” 

Before Grian can even react, Scar has grabbed the Vampire by the arm and pulled them into a tight hug, high-pitched chitters and giggles escaping against his will. He doesn’t try fighting them this time, knowing any effort to do so would be futile. He just buries his face in Mumbo’s chest, that small phantom tail wrapping around their left wrist and his small wings flapping madly. His instincts preen at the contact, pleased to finally “possess” the one that’s been gone so long. It feels gross. He feels gross. His hands shake, his stupid claws nearly ripping Mumbo’s shirt, so he tries to gentle his grip, but he’s.. not sure how effective he’s being. Stupid blue moon.

“Oh, Scar..” Mumbo whispers gently, followed by a chuckle. “Happy to see you too, I really missed you.” He slowly lifts his right hand up, patting the Vex’s shoulder. “Sorry if I’m late, but I’m here now, hope you didn’t have to wait for too long.”

“We didn’t, you’re alright,” Grian huffs, wrapping his wings comfortably around the two. Cordelia’s a miracle worker, his wing’s mobility is so much better already. “I’m.. not sure you’re gonna be getting anything from Scar anytime soon, though. Moon’s hitting him hard this time.”

Said Vex chitters again, this time with a put-upon grunt, though his head stays firmly against Mumbo’s chest. His tail squeezes, and he makes those unnatural giggles again, immediately followed by a shudder and a growl as his tail quickly loosens again. He’s actively fighting everything his Vex side does, like he always does on nights like this.

And like always, Mumbo argues against that. “Scar, you can squeeze me if you feel like it, you know I don’t break easily, I’m gonna be fine,” he murmurs, brushing through Scar’s hair with his other hand. 

Scar whines, not moving his arms to properly hug the Vampire but indeed compromising with his instincts by letting his tail squeeze, gripping Mumbo’s wrist tightly. He coils it around their arm twice more, just barely keeping himself in check enough to not cut off circulation. His ears flap while he chitters and giggles more, mixed with the occasional chirp or quiet screech-like noise. Gods, he really wants to hurt something. It’s terrifying how much he wants to rip into something. Some one. He wants to scratch something to shreds, wants to tear into something with his teeth until it’s reduced to paste. It’s horrifying. He feels sick. 

He giggles again, this time interrupted by a hoarse half-sob. He knows he’s shaking badly, knows he might scare them, but everything is hitting him so much harder this year. The last time he experienced this he was able to lock himself in an armored room in the labs, far away from anyone he could potentially hurt until the blue moon set. This time he has no buffer. Nothing but whatever strength his partners have to restrain him if necessary, and they’ve never tested it. He’s so scared.  

“It’s okay, Scar.. we are here for you,” Mumbo mutters, brushing through his hair. “The night will pass in a blink, just let us hold you and it will be fine,” he hums, planting a kiss on Scar’s temple. A bit awkwardly, he leans back and drops down on the bed, looking up at Grian and then patting the place by his side, inviting the Sunbird to join them. It’s a little bed, but hey, they have lived in worse conditions. 

Grian huffs with a fond, if sad, smile, flopping onto the mattress next to Mumbo and blanketing the three of them under his wing. Scar grunts and screeches quietly, curled up practically on top of Mumbo, still trembling but a bit more content. 

Right. He has them, he has Mumbo and Grian, they’re here. They’re with him, he isn’t.. alone. He isn’t dealing with this by himself. It should be even scarier, knowing there’s so much potential for him to hurt either one of them, but he trusts them. They trust him. He can stay here without putting them in danger. It’s.. It’s okay. He’s okay.

“Love you,” the Vex croaks, nuzzling against the Vampire’s chest. “Love both of you.. so much..”

“Love you too, Scar,” Grian hums, reaching over to brush through Scar’s hair. “Love you, Mumbo.”

“Mhm,” Mumbo hums with a soft smile, turning his head back to the Sunbird. “Love you too.”

Scar takes a shaky breath, finally shifting his face away from Mumbo’s chest to look at both of his partners, eyes hazy but mouth drawn in a pout. “Both of you have left now..” He murmurs. “Both of you have disappeared ‘n pulled away.. Why does everyone keep doing that..? A-Apo’s great, but.. I’ve missed both of you… ”

Mumbo flinches, biting down on his lip. For a second he feels the rush of red inside his mouth, as he gulps it down with a shaky exhale. That’s… He did pull away for a bit, didn’t he? Just a few days ago he was agreeing with Martyn, about Grian spending too much time with Scott and forgetting about them, and now..

“Sorry..” he whispers, his voice small. “I.. wasn’t.. dealing well with the.. the week. I just needed some.. time for myself, to come back from wherever my head was stuck in. I’m sorry I had to leave you because of it.. Any of you..” Mumbo’s voice breaks on the last words, as he slowly shifts his head to face Martyn, still sitting in the same place, listening to Joel and Jimmy chatting about something. 

Scar hums softly, his tail squeezing just a bit harder for a moment before relaxing again. “Just.. try and split your time now, like Grian does..? I.. I know you both care a lot about Scott now… I get it..! They’re hurting, they need help, I mean I vouched for them for a reason.. I just.. We miss you…”

“I won’t leave again, Scar,” Grian mutters, his wing wrapping closer around the Vex. “We’ve.. got a sort of system now, yeah? Or we’ll figure out a better one… Red Week’s finally over, so hopefully things will settle, okay?”

Mumbo doesn’t know why he’s fighting tears all of a sudden. “Yeah..” His hands around Scar tighten, as he looks up at the ceiling, as far away from himself as he can. He can feel the itch under and below his bandages, he can hear the blood rushing by, and it makes him weak. “Hopefully.”

Scar hums again, satisfied with that answer, burying his face back against Mumbo’s chest with a soft purr and echoing giggle. Good. Good, Mumbo’s staying more too. He’ll have his partners back.. Maybe Martyn won’t be so sad anymore! A nice thought. Maybe he should meet Scott properly sometime.. when he’s more sound of mind, obviously. He really wants to understand what’s drawing his partners in so much about them. What is about Scott that pulls them away? Two people now.. It could be a coincidence, but maybe not? Only one way to find out…

But for now, he needs to stay here. Gods know he’d get himself into something irreversible if he tried interacting with Scott now. Instead, he’s gonna cuddle his partners, and he’s gonna ride out this blue moon. Yes. This is a good plan. He likes this plan.

Notes:

Translations -

"Morning, sleepyhead!"
"Oookay, back to being rude I see..."
"...Point taken. Shutting up now."

"Did you.. ever apologize for hurting the dude?"
"Diiiid you though?"
"......Sure, kiddo."

"...You know you don't gotta do this, right..? Alinar?"
"Buddy..."
"I'm... Ali, I'm here.. I'm right here, please-"
"I-I am dead, Ali, but I'm right here-!"
"...What?"
"I... I knew that, wha- I know that, I-I'm sorry, wait I- Scott, you're right buddy I'm sorry-"
"Al- Scott you're hurting yourself stop- your neck-!"
"Yes you can..."

"Sor.. Sorry..."

"Scott you're not bad, don't say-"

"SHUT UP!" - "Shut up shut up shut up..!"

---
One more reminder, just in case you skipped the beginning notes (which you shouldn't do since we put our TWs there, but to each their own) Owen is very much not a representation of DID or any sort of dissociative disorder. We as the authors are not in any way villainizing DID or its related disorders, and Owen's situation will be expanded upon in future chapters. Thank you <3
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Chapter 16: Can’t you see it’s over now?

Notes:

!!One more reminder from the authors that Owen DOES NOT have DID. It is something else entirely, Owen does not have any sort of dissociative disorder!!

Chapter title from "Confrontation" from Jekyll & Hyde.

TW/ Minor character death, Blood and injury, Dissociation, Dehumanization

Hover mouse over italicised foreign language or messed up text for translations!
(Mobile and tablet users please see the End Notes)

Sunday, April 20, 1528

My dear Lizzie,

It’s been.. a while since my last update. Last notes show it being nearly a month ago, which is mind blowing. I should have written this earlier, but we had a busy few weeks, and now that I can finally breathe and write without getting interrupted, here I am. 

It has been about a month since Scott started hanging out on our roof like a bloody creep “living” with us. I wouldn’t say that they “live” with us, but Grian and some of the others are very stubborn when it comes to Scott, so I’m just rolling with it at this point. What did I say in the last letter? They are just watching and listening to Grian on the roof? Scratch that! There’s a reason why we were busy, and it’s mostly them. They BIT Martyn and Mumbo! Can you believe that?! Yes, the first one was deserved (I guess..) and yes the second one was caused by a panic attack, but excuses excuses! Those two are still bandaged up, but at least Mumbo is apparently in a good mood, telling Martyn that they are matching now. Martyn and I also match, with scars on our FACES (bloody bastard), but you already know that, I think I wrote it in the previous entry letter. 

And if you don’t, why are you reading this one? I know for a fact I’ll give it to you for you to read in order, if you haven’t read that yet, shoo, go back. Also, I just realized that you’re probably wondering who Scott is, that’s the Exor guy, yes, they apparently have a new name now. Don’t ask me, ask Grian. 

I heard Grian and Owen chatting yesterday when most of us were already going to sleep. Apparently they are thinking about moving soon, and while they didn’t seem like they wanted it that much, we do have to leave this or the next week. We’ve already pushed our luck too far with STARR. But I don’t know what we’re gonna do about Scott, because honestly, if you ask me, dragging them with us will be a bad idea, and not everyone will be happy about it. (Martyn.)

What are we even gonna do with them if we take them with us? Keep them tied to someone all the time? Tie them to a tree at night? I guess I understand holding them like this when we have a place to stay at, but on the run? Eh.

But forget them, let’s move to our guys. Jimmy has started taking this medic thing very seriously, he got himself a job with this village’s Cleric, Cordelia. He seems to be having fun, learning a lot. He’s been really proud of himself, which the lad deserves to be fair. I think you’ll be happy to hear that he’s been the happiest I’ve seen him since he found out where Grian was. I know you’ll also be happy to hear that he is still following your advice and pulling the brother card on me every once in a while, why would you do this to me? You KNEW how this would make me feel and that I would be weak to his bratty demands, this is all your fault, I hope you’re proud of him. I’m not. 

Grian has been bothering me for a bit now. I don’t know how to exactly describe it, not much changed, but I don’t know.. I knew he was different when we joined the military. Whatever happened to him before Jimmy somehow found out he was with STARR messed him up real good, but I think he’s somehow even messier now on the run. At least he had orders and consistency back there, so he didn’t have to think much about his problems or us, but now that we are out in the wild, he’s either coming up with plans or searching for jobs to add his own share of money, or getting stuck in his head for a while, overthinking. I wonder what he’s thinking most of the time, but I know he’s not one to share most of his worries, so I just keep quiet.

Weirdly enough though, I think Owen’s been helping him? A little? That guy’s weird too, but I can see that he’s gotten more confident than he was the past year. I guess taking Grian’s place for a bit helped him find a more comfortable position on the team? I don’t know, sometimes he looks comfortable, sometimes not, it’s still hard for me to read him, or Acho. 

Acho is another weird case, I don’t understand them AT ALL, but now that they started talking to us more, we had a few moments together to share some stories, or talk about random stuff. Star seems pretty chill and cool, I’d like to talk to them more. Even if they intimidate me just a little bit. They’re not scary or anything though, that would be ridiculous. Grian also asked us to talk with the Maze trio more, so.. working on that. 

I think the easiest one out of that trio is Apo so far. Oooh, she’s one heck of a troublemaker, you’d love her. She acts all giggly, and cutesy, and shy sometimes, and then she stabs you in the back and throws you under the carriage like nothing! She knows how to have fun, but her sense of fun is sometimes very scary… yeah, you’d love her. That’s even more terrifying, actually. Also apparently she gives Scar-level piggyback rides? Haven’t tested that, she’s got this thing with her spine that acts up, and Owen gets freaky protective over her when it does. Never thought I’d consider OWEN scary, but when Apo or Acho are upset? Bloody hell. No wonder he and Grian are somewhat sharing?? the leadership?? now??

Scar. He’s feeling good I think, or I hope. There was a blue moon two weeks ago, and you know it’s much more rare than blood moons, which is great actually, it was a very hard night to go through. I don't think w We didn’t sleep through the whole night, trying to keep poor Scar entertained or distracted before he started causing problems. He’s better now, it’ll be two weeks since then as of tomorrow and it seems that he moved on, but I guess some feelings still linger. Not as in Vex feelings, I think he’s just still very out of it from what he had in mind that night, I don’t think he enjoys being like that. Makes you wonder..

Martyn. Oh. My. GODS. You know, I kinda understand where he’s coming from, and at the same time get so irritated by some of his actions sometimes, which is fine, but the tension between him and Mumbo recently?? Feels like my parents are getting a divorce. I mean it would have been fine if my actual parents DID get a divorce, but I’m not ready for THESE two divorcing, that’s gonna be the worst. Martyn CRIED, can you imagine? Like, he actually cried till he passed out by the morning, and I just don’t understand what to do?? I don’t think anyone does, honestly, it’s been very messy and confusing. They are gonna be fine in the end, though. I know they will, I don’t think anything will break these guys at this point, but I just really hope that “end” will come soon, because I.. don’t like seeing Martyn like this. This.. vulnerable. It’s not the usual Martyn, you know? Jim’s been losing his blooming mind with worry, feels like the dude’s gonna start molting soon from the stress. You know him, stressing in overdrive when tensions are high? Yeah. It’s not great.

And to the last man, Mumbo. I’m gonna be honest, and this part will probably be the longest, walk with me for a second. At the beginning we thought that it was the Red Week that messed him up. I’ve mentioned in previous letters how this guy gets nervous or gets closed off when that color is around, and I never understood why exactly, considering that he’s literally a Vampire that drinks blood, AND he’s an engineer that works with REDstone, that’s just ironic, isn’t it? But I guess it’s trauma, and it runs very deep, with how detached he got that whole weekend. But I don’t think it was the only thing that happened, and it kinda freaks ME out. Two days ago Jim was helping him with the bandages again, (you know, he got bit by Scott) and he came back both a bit confused, and concerned. Said he saw new pin-prick scars on Mumbo’s wrists, that reminded him too much of fangs, and he couldn’t understand where it came from. I suggested talking with Grian or Scar, because they are his platonic partners after all, and I just didn’t want to take something like this to Martyn, so we approached Grian. Mumbo apparently.. bites himself? A lot? Grian said he hasn’t done that in months now, but the fact that Jim saw the scars.. We think he might have come back to that particular habit either on the Red Week, or right after it. Grian asked us not to tell Martyn yet, apparently he’s aware of that.. “habit”, and won’t take it very well, so we are keeping our mouths shut. Worries me even more. Gives me that weird icky feeling, knowing that Mumbo is hurting himself when we aren’t looking. Grian said he’s gonna talk to them, but.. we’ll see when that’s gonna happen. For now, I’m just trying to keep an eye on them, just in case. 

Okay, done with personal updates, I hope you now understand why there were no letters before. As I said, a very busy few weeks. As a group, we are doing okay, I think! I found a job at the local bakery, Jimmy’s at the Cleric’s, Martyn is at the farm, and Acho and Mumbo work in the tavern, while others are just messing around with the commission board every day. I was asked to drag one of them to the bakery today, because a girl that is usually on the same shift as I am is sick, so.. Thinking about dragging Owen probably, to talk with him one on one, get a bit closer, I need to start bonding with them now, don’t I?

Well.. this is all I wanted to tell you, I think. We are good, we are doing our things, talking with the villagers around here, and sharing our time in the hut. (I hope you never know the pain of sharing one minuscule room with eight other people.. and one shower.. and one toilet.. nightmares.) 

I’ll try writing down another update next week, I don’t want to mess up my schedule even more. I promised to update every week, and I’m gonna stick to that promise. 

But for now, this is the end of this letter. Take care, and remember that I love you.

Your very hot and badass husband, 

Joel. 

 

Joel sighs heavily, snapping his journal shut and capping his pen. The second journal he’s used on this run, and he’s already halfway through it. With the way things are going, he’s gonna need another one soon, isn’t he? With another sigh, he packs the journal and pen into his bag, leaning against the wall he’s sat against with a grunt. If he doesn’t manage to get these letters to Lizzie by journal five he’s gonna riot.  

“Lizzie letters?” Jimmy mutters from next to the Red Panda, making him jump.

“Blummin’– heck, don’t sneak up on me like that!” Joel hisses, smoothing the fur of his tail with a grumble. How does the avian just appear like that, for goodness sakes. “..Yeah, Lizzie letters.”

The Canary hums, nodding slowly. Joel gives him a once-over, just barely containing a wince. “Jim, have you slept?”

“Mm?” Jimmy hums, blinking sluggishly. “Ah.. slept? Yeah, yeah I’ve slept.. yeah…” 

“Right,” Joel deadpans with a disbelieving squint. “Do I need to tell Martyn on you?”

“No..” Jimmy grumbles with an impressive pout, wings slumping. “I am sleeping, Joel..”

“And I’m the King of Mezalea.”

“Just because I’m sleeping doesn’t mean I’m sleeping well.”

“Touché.”

“Hm.”

“Oh hush it.”

“Hah.”

“Menace.”

“Who are you thinking of bringing to the bakery today?” The Canary asks with a stretch of his wings and a yawn, ignoring that last comment. Score one for Joel!

“Owen,” the Red Panda hums with a shrug, setting his bag aside and also stretching, hearing a satisfying pop in his back. “I wanna start actually getting to know the, er.. Maze trio better, figured I’d start with Owen since Apo’s got Scar and Acho..”

“Scares you?” Jimmy snorts.

“Wh– they don’t scare me, Jim, for goodness sake!” Joel argues incredulously, finally pushing himself to his feet. “I’m gonna go talk to Owen now, good bye!”

“Byyeee,” Jimmy waves him off with a giggle. Bloody menace. Now to find that Sparrow.. Where’d she run off to anyhow?

Owen paces restlessly outside, digging her claws into her arms as she wears a divot into the ground. It’s getting worse. He’s getting louder. She lost a whole hour of yesterday while he was doing Gods know what! What if he hurt someone? What if he stole something? What if her face is plastered somewhere on a poster again because she couldn’t keep control of her own fucking body–  

“Just breathe, Owen,” she murmurs to herself, closing her eyes with a heavy sigh. “Just.. breathe.” She has to talk to Apo and Acho again, she needs to tell them that it’s getting worse, that she needs to be looked after, just in case..

With a final, shakier breath, as she finally calms down, Owen stops pacing and stares at the horizon, gathering her thoughts. This is a good idea, yes, she needs to inform them before it’s too late. Someone needs to know. She turns around toward the door and quickly moves to it, her hand flying up to the handle, before the door suddenly flies open, Joel’s face peeking out. 

“Oh! Here you are!” The Red Panda grins, walking out and closing the door behind him. “I was searching for you!”

“Ah– Yeah, I’m here, hi, good morning,” Owen chuckles nervously, her claws clenching her arms, crossed over her chest. “Did you.. need something?” 

“Yep!” Joel chirps. “My usual work partner at the bakery is out sick, and I was wondering if you’d be cool with coming with me today. You don’t have any lingering commissions, do you?”

“Erm. N-nah, I don’t,” the Sparrow stutters, blinking rapidly in surprise. “You.. You want me to work with you?”

“Yeah, why not?” Joel confirms with a casual shrug. “It’s a big kitchen, so no worries about your wings being cramped. I overheard that you had an interest in baking before, so I figured.. why not? Do you want to-?”

“Yes!” Owen agrees, a bit louder than intended. She flushes, clearing her throat awkwardly. “I mean. Yes. I would.. like to work with you today, Joel, thank you.”

The shorter brunette snorts, clearly amused by her floundering. “Great. Grab your bag and we’ll head over there, I’m on the first shift.” Not waiting for an answer, Joel turns around and walks back into the hut, looking around. He can see Jimmy already putting on his shoes, ready to leave, and Mumbo and Acho are nowhere to be seen. 

“Come on, stand up! Come on, let's go, let's gooo!” Scar chirps, gripping onto Apo’s hand and dragging her out of the bed.

“Noooo–” The Demon whines, her tail trying to hit the Vex, but not reaching. “Wanna stay, s’ comfyy.”

Joel snorts, passing them by. “Good morning, Grian,” he says, stepping over the Sunbird, who’s blinking up at the ceiling with a yawn, trying to wake up.

“M’rning..”

Humming a melody, Joel reaches for his bag, throwing it over his shoulder. “I’m taking Owen with me to the bakery, that fine with you?”

“Y-ep,” Grian responds, with a thumbs up. 

“Great!” Joel chirps with a satisfied grin, rolling his shoulders before turning on his heel and returning to the door, Owen in tow with her own bag. “Me or Lika will probably show you the ropes before opening, I doubt she’ll have you on the more important jobs. Honestly you’ll probably just man the storage all day, since that’s what the uhh.. sick girl usually does.”

“You didn’t bother to learn her name, did you?” Owen questions with an incredulous, if amused, snort. 

“Nnnnnope!” Joel confirms with a pop and zero shame. “She didn’t learn mine either, we’re not exactly friendly with each other. We arrive, do our jobs, and leave with very little conversation. I don’t think she likes me.”

“Is she.. human?” 

“Yep.”

“Is she outright rude to you?”

“Nah– well.. Not most of the time?”

“Most of the time.”

“Lika has a zero tolerance policy for discrimination in her bakery, or among her staff. She catches you, you’re out, simple as that; she gives you your final paycheck and you’re done. ‘Sides, most of the time we’re too busy to interact aside from passing comments. This particular girl just.. makes remarks every now and again.”

“Can you not, like.. report her?”

“Hah! And risk ridicule from my coworkers and the rest of the village when she gets fired for it? No blummin’ thanks!”

“...Right. Didn’t think about that.”

“Eh, doesn’t bother me at all. She doesn’t know jack shit.”

“That’s.. good. That it doesn’t bother you, I mean.”

“Someday you just figure out that those people are always gonna be around the place. Always gonna show their faces, make their comments. Why let their attitudes about my existence keep me from living, y’know?”

The Sparrow hums with a small nod, falling silent for a moment. “That’s.. very wise, Joel.”

“‘Course it was, that’s me! Wisest man ever!” Joel boasts dramatically, chest puffed.

Owen snickers. “Yes, right, wisest man. Don’t know how I forgot.”

The Red Panda snorts, kicking Owen’s leg, as they walk down the already familiar village paths. It’s strange recognizing almost every face they pass by. He was used to that back in the military, they would often pass by the other groups, or trainers, familiar faces all over the labs, but after the run? They didn’t have the privilege of staying in one place too long, so seeing so many people he can recognize.. As much as he likes this consistency, he’s also aware that this is probably a bad sign. 

As they approach the bakery, Joel moves ahead and opens the door for them. “It’s me!” He yells out as soon as the door hits the bell, announcing someone's arrival. “I dragged my friend to help!”

“Great! I’ll be there in a few minutes!” A woman’s voice answers from another room. Lika, Owen guesses.

Owen hasn’t been to this bakery before, and this place isn’t exactly what he had in mind, considering that it was the only bakery in the village. The space was small, no tables, just a long glass counter, half of it filled with different baked goods, the aroma of the newly baked ones filling the room. He can see more donuts, muffins, little cake pieces, and some other local pastries and bread on the trays right behind the counter, alongside the coffee and tea pots. And a singular door leading behind, to another room.

“Come on,” Joel hums, circling the counter and opening the door to the other room. Owen follows him closely, as they enter another room, a little bit bigger than the previous. He could see three tables against the wall, two put together with even more trays on them, and one just a bit left, with flour and giant chunks of fresh dough on it. On the other side of the room were the multiple ovens, all of them on and already occupied. The thing that makes Owen stop and stare is something in the middle of the room. He can see that it’s made of brick in the shape of a circle, the top of it covered with a wooden board, some kind of metallic paddle and hook on it. 

“What’s this for?” She asks, circling the thing. When she gets closer to it, she can feel heat radiating from it, which makes her wings nervously flutter. 

“Ah? That’s shoti. That’s where we make the bread, don’t worry about it,” Joel hums, putting his bag down on the far corner. “I’m gonna work with it, because I don’t think you’re gonna handle that well, especially on the first day, so I think it will be better for you at the counter most of the time, maybe? Because shoti is like.. really deep and hot, and I know you don’t like fire very much.”

Owen tenses slightly, shivering and taking an instinctive step away from the shoti. “A-ah. Okay.. thanks for the heads-up, then,” she murmurs, setting her bag next to Joel’s and awkwardly wringing her hands, fighting to keep her wings from outright flapping. Right. Of course there’s a massive fire-making thing in the middle of the damn room she’s gonna be in for hours today. Just her luck! Don’t like fire very much, pff– more like she’s got a deathly fucking fear of the stuff. Ugh.

The Sparrow clears his throat, rolling his shoulders and taking a deep breath before returning his attention to Joel. “Right, so.. do we just wait for this Lika person now, or..?”

“Well–”

There’s a crash from behind the other door in the room, followed by a loud “FUCK, SHENI DEDA MOVT– ” before another sound follows, recognized as a fist against the wall. 

“The answer is no, apparently,” Joel snorts, turning toward the other door that leads back into the front of the bakery. As he reaches for a small drawer under the glass counter, he takes out a little notebook and hands it to Owen, standing awkwardly in the doorway. “This is a list of everything we sell and their prices, all the names are also written under the trays just in case you don’t recognize any of the pastries. Always make sure to check this. You stay at the counter for three or four hours, then I’ll take a break and change places with you, so you can have yours, and then work inside for a bit. Lika with deal with shoti, don’t worry about it, and the fire isn’t high enough to actually see it or anything, but the room will be hot once the board is off, so.. just keep that in mind, and I’ll keep the door open, so you can see me whenever I’m inside or outside, and ask me of something.”

Owen slowly nods along, trying not to appear as nervous as they feel. They did a very similar job at the tavern two weeks ago, and this is a small bakery! Surely it can’t be any worse than what they experienced back then, right? Right??

The warning about the shoti is.. weirdly considerate, though. They’re not sure why, but they really didn’t expect such a thing from Joel. Not calling them on their phobia made them assume he just didn’t get it, but maybe he was trying not to bring attention to it? Calling it a dislike instead of a fear? Maybe.. they should stop assuming the worst of all of the others. They haven’t been doing a very good job of being open to the group now, have they? They’ve still been.. suspicious. 

“Thank you, Joel,” Owen mutters, a slightly foreign sincerity in her tone. Then she ducks her head a bit, clearing her throat and retreating from the room to get a feel for the front. Gods, her bloody mood swings recently, the General’s been getting to her even worse than she thought… 

~

The morning passes strangely for Owen. It starts out fine, taking orders, delivering boxes of pastries and goods, avoiding the shoti like a plague. It works. Then about midway through the shift, her head starts to feel weird. Foggy. It’s a very familiar feeling, and it makes her stomach churn. That telltale sign that any minute, any second now, she could be kicked from her own body and simply black out, forced to awaken later after some monster does whatever he wants while wearing her face. It’s terrifying, and without Acho or Apo.. the best way to fight it off until she manages to tell one of them what’s going on is to push him back herself. 

The difficulty in which she manages to do this.. varies, but it always requires her to put a lot of mental energy toward keeping a wall between him and the forefront of her mind. She has to maintain barriers between the General and control, which leaves her.. vacant, sort of. Apo says witnessing it is very similar to watching someone dissociate. She zones out, goes through the motions on autopilot, sometimes completely shutting down so all of her energy goes toward keeping the General out. This sort of thing happening in public is.. not ideal. 

Thanks to his inconvenient timing, Owen spends the latter half of her bakery shift very out of it. She still takes and delivers orders, but she can hardly make herself speak, and she knows full well that her already pathetic attempt at a customer service smile is even emptier than usual. She can barely register the weird looks Joel keeps sending her, and she’s only vaguely aware of Lika’s concerned murmurs. It only gets worse by the end of said shift. She can’t muster words anymore, her hands tremble violently, and she half-stumbles with nearly every other step. The General only grows louder, his sadistic excitement peaking as her mental barriers wane. She needs her siblings. Desperately. Before she– before the General– hurts someone.

“Hey,” Joel whispers, tugging at her sleeve. “Come inside with me, Lika will deal with the counter for the rest of the shift,” he hums, as Lika pops up by Owen’s side, giving her a reassuring smile and a nod. Then she takes her place in front of the counter, immediately starting a conversation with a customer while Joel gently drags Owen inside. 

The Sparrow swallows thickly, stumbling awkwardly after Joel in a daze. She can hardly think, he’s so loud. She blinks, and she’s past the doorway. She blinks again and she’s sitting in a chair, staring at the floor with her trembling hands resting on her own legs. Oh. Oh Gods she’s blanking, oh fuck–  

“Owen, do you need something? How– How can I help?” Joel asks nervously, crouching in front of her. “What’s going on? Did something happen?”

She blinks again. This is bad. This is really really bad. Her throat is closed up, she can’t– how the hell is she meant to communicate? How does– she doesn’t know sign language, she doesn’t know Morse Code, that’s how Mumbo did it! She didn’t exactly have time to learn! She blinks again and Joel’s concerned expression has deepened, shit. She’s losing whole seconds. It’s only a matter of time before– before he–

She’s sure her entire being is shaking now, body and Soul. She’s scared, Gods she’s so scared. Joel is right here, she’s in a public business place, if he gets a good grip on her body–

Chirp?

Owen chokes, eyes darting back up to Joel and then around the room, almost frantic. What. What? Was that– huh-? Where did that come from-?

Joel in front of her suddenly goes red, murmuring under his breath. “Gods, I haven’t done that in years,” he mutters, before he tilts his head and lets out another, very unsure, but still recognizable chirp. 

Owen blinks. Blinks again. She doesn’t lose seconds this time. How in the everloving fuck– Gods, it’s not perfect, but that was nearly identical to an avian chirp! Its messaging is a bit messy, and the tone is just slightly off from sounding natural, but it’s.. it’s so similar to what she heard from Jimmy that day by the river. Her first connection with one of the others, while he was bandaging her wing. It.. helps. Just a little. Not with the overall situation, hell no, but she is.. panicking slightly less now. The noise even caught the General off guard enough to shut him up for a moment. Huh.

“My wife taught me that..” Joel admits, his face almost as red as his fur. “I knew Lizzie and Jimmy since I was, what? Four? I think. Having two avian best friends, and then another one soon after, Lizzie decided it would be fun to teach me how to communicate. It’s.. hard. I don’t have enough vocals for most of the noises, but I can get close, you know?” He says with a chuckle, before his grin falls into a sad smile. “I– I stopped doing the sounds after I left her. Even when Jimmy asked me, it was kinda.. weird to do it without her, so.. don’t tell Jim I did this, yeah? He will get sooo upset at me.” His awkward grin returns as he slowly stands up, looking down at the Sparrow. 

Owen swallows again, taking a breath. General’s starting up again, so she needs to do this now– “Siblings,” she manages to croak, voice hoarse and clearly strained. Then her awareness slightly dips again, as her mental walls go back up. Hopefully.. by some miracle, Joel gets what she means. She can only keep this up for so long.

There’s another chirp from Joel, before he turns around and runs out of the room, leaving Owen alone. She takes a shaky breath, pulling her knees to her chest and burying her face in the darkness, her wings coming around herself in a cocoon of sorts. He’s so loud. Her head hurts. Just.. just need to wait it out now. Joel’s getting her siblings, they’ll.. they’ll know.. she just needs to hold him back for.. a little while longer…

Just.. a little… 

It doesn’t take long for Joel to run to the tavern. It’s just two streets down from the bakery, surrounded by wide alleyways from all directions. He quickly runs in, almost bumping into someone, but instead of staying to listen to that person’s complaints, his eyes dart around the tavern, searching for a familiar figure. Soon enough, he sees Acho in front of the kitchen, and avoiding the people walking around, quickly approaches him.

“Acho!” He hisses loudly as soon as he gets in the hearing range for the Fae. 

Acho flinches with a squeak, whirling around to face the Red Panda. “Ah– Joel? What-?” Star blinks, eyes narrowing. “...What’s that face for? You okay-?”

“We have a problem,” he whispers, knowing that Fae can hear him despite all the noise around them. “Something wrong with Owen, she asked for you and Apo, but I have no idea where to find Apo and–”

Acho goes pale before Joel is finished speaking, their breathing becoming practically nonexistent. They set their notebook down and stick their head through the window to the kitchen. “I got a family emergency! I-I’m sorry, I gotta go, I’ll be back later BYE–” The Fae doesn’t wait for a response, doesn’t wait for Joel to get his bearings. They instead bolt out of the tavern, faster than Joel thinks he’s ever seen them run before. They’re out of sight in mere moments.

Joel should have probably taken their stuff, but hey, they said they will be back, and Mumbo is still here, so he just huffs and runs after Acho, leaving the tavern as fast as he entered. He’s back at the bakery soon enough, seeing Acho enter it just as he rounds the corner. 

“Good Gods,” Joel exhales sharply as he runs into the building. He’s met by a worried Lika, constantly sending glances back toward the shut door, while still trying to talk with the customer in front of her. “I’m here,” he mutters, out of breath. The customer sends a weird glance between them, but just shrugs, pays for his stuff and leaves, leaving them alone.

“Is everything alright with your friend?” Lika asks awkwardly, crossing her arms.

Joel sighs, brushing his hair off his forehead. “I– don’t know. I don’t think so. We– We’ll see.”

Almost immediately, there’s a muffled thump from the back room, followed by a louder bang and clatters of objects. Then a grunt– very distinctly from Acho– and what genuinely sounds like a deranged giggle. There’s swearing, more thumps and clatters, then a much louder thump. Then there’s hushed whispers, more muffled cursing and hissed words. More giggling. A growl of frustration. Another thump, and another curse.

Lika winces with every loud bang, grimacing, as Joel also cringes. 

“Sorry..” The Red Panda mutters, scratching his neck. “I-I’ll compensate if they break something, I promise..”

The woman sighs heavily, rubbing her eyes. “Gmertebo ra davashave.. It’s fine, Joel,” she says, putting her hands down in defeat. “I will take just a bit from your paycheck if it’s too bad.” She flops down on the chair behind the counter, while Joel grunts. 

There’s another thump, and finally some understandable words from the two inside, though still muffled. It doesn’t lend clarity to the situation at all.

“Quit it already you motherfu–”

“Make me, bitch–”

“Ohoho I’ll fucking make you you piece of absolute–”

“How original–”

“You are going to leave or so help me Gods–”

“Whatcha gonna do? Wack me with a frying pan again? You’re only hurting–”

“Shut up and fucking die you little–”

“What the fuck is going on in there?” Joel mutters, getting more concerned with every sentence, as Lika looks back at him with her eyebrow raised.

“Don’t ask me, that’s your friends in there. Didn’t you call the other one to help? They are fighting..”

“Yeah, I can hear that.”

There’s more growling and even snarls from the room, then another round of hissed whispers before it finally goes quiet. Then, after what feels like an eternity of silence, there’s footsteps and gentler thumps, cupboards opening, the slide of a knife being put back in the knife block. Telltale signs of the room being cleaned back up after whatever disaster just occurred inside, alongside the faintest sound of murmuring, low and hoarse with frustration and worry.

“Erm.. Acho?” Joel yells, knocking on the door. “Is.. everything alright in there?” Lika snorts behind him.

“...Not really,” the Fae answers warily from inside. “Ah.. I-I’m putting everything back Miss Lika, nothing’s broken.. Y-you can come in if you don’t.. ask why he’s.. um. It’s.. complicated…”

“Okay?” Joel responds awkwardly, as he slowly opens the door and looks inside, his eyes immediately darting around to see the damage, and to find Owen, because what is going on?

Owen is unconscious. That’s what he sees first. The Sparrow is out cold, slumped against the wall and sitting on the floor, a black eye already blooming to contrast her scar. Acho is shuffling around, stacking pots and pans back onto counters and sliding cutting boards back into cabinets. There are a few knives scattered around that star is also putting back in their rightful places, dutifully avoiding eye contact with the Red Panda. “..He’s okay now,” star murmurs instead, putting a pair of scissors back in one of the knife blocks. There’s a sluggishly bleeding slice on stars temple, a nasty bruise forming on their cheek, and their lip is busted.

“..So I can’t ask about this..” Joel murmurs, frowning. “Okay.. O-okay, does this.. happen often? I don’t.. remember you two fighting.. ever, ” he questions, his eyes back toward the Sparrow. 

“I don't usually have to resort to violence,” the Fae hums, licking the blood on stars mouth awkwardly. “There’s.. not really a pattern to this. She can go weeks sometimes without it happening, and then other times.. well. This. It’s good you got me when you did, Joel, it.. might’ve been a lot worse.” They glance at Joel for a moment, then down at Owen, sighing. “She’ll be up soon. She’s.. she’ll be okay.”

Joel stays quiet for a minute, staring down at the Sparrow, before he snorts weakly. “Do I just.. punch the bloody hell out of her the next time or what?” He asks with a giggle. “Conversation didn’t help, but brute force can deal with any problem?”

Acho’s quiet again, just for a moment, before finally properly turning to Joel. Stars expression is stone cold serious. “If you ever look at Owen and both of his eyes are orange? Yes. You knock him the hell out, you make sure he’s unconscious, and you come get me or Apo.”

Joel flinches, his jaw dropping. It was a joke. A joke. He didn’t actually expect Acho to take him seriously, or worse, tell him to actually hit her. Knock unconscious?? What the hell?? “O-Okay.. I’ll.. do that..” He mutters, his ears pinned to his head. 

“You are getting weirder every single day,” Lika hums from the doorway, blinking at the trio inside. “You know there are rumors about your group around the village, right?” 

Acho just huffs, stacking up the last of the pans and setting them in their rightful place. “So I’ve heard. It’s not exactly a surprise. ..If you find any damages, let me know? I’ll.. fix it myself or pay you back somehow… I’m really sorry.”

Like sighs, rubbing her temple. “No, it's okay; if something was badly damaged, imma just take money from Joel’s paycheck, don’t worry about it, just.. take care of your friend on the floor.”

“Damn, thanks,” the Red Panda mutters, crossing his arms. 

Acho hums, going to say something else, but their ear twitches at a groan from the previously unconscious Sparrow. They’re crouching in front of her in a flash, gently brushing some hair from her face. “..Owen?”

Owen hums, mismatched eyes opening in a squint. Her brows furrow, and she frowns. “...Acho. You.. did he..?”

“I’m okay,” the Fae mutters, a small smile moving onto stars face. “You know I’ve taken way worse hits, even from the likes of you you.”

Owen huffs at that, leaning her head back until it thumps gently against the wall, eyes fluttering shut again. “..How bad?”

“Not your worst. Could’ve done a lot more damage.”

“Mm.”

“Owen.”

“I know, I know.. ‘m fine. I’m okay, ‘s quiet.”

“...Okay. Can you stand?”

“Yesn’t.”

“Take your time.”

“M’kay..”

There’s a ding behind them in the main area of the bakery, the bell above the door announcing someone’s arrival, as Lika sighs heavily, turning around. “Another shift starts in an hour, so I think me and you can work alone for a bit, Joel, Owen can go home and rest. I have no idea what happened here, and frankly, I don’t want to know, so take your stuff and off you go,” she hums, as she closes the door behind her, going to the counter and leaving the others back in the kitchen. 

“Yeah..” Joel murmurs, looking down at the Sparrow with slight worry and utter confusion. “I think it will be better for you to go back for now..”

Owen hums, eyes still closed. “..Yeah. Sorry, yeah, I’ll go in.. in a second..”

“I can carry you,” Acho offers, stars tone still the absolutely most gentle Joel’s ever heard. “It wasn’t a long one this time, but–”

“Nah I got it Acho, promise,” Owen mutters, taking a deep breath and finally opening her eyes again. She looks dazed. “Just get me to my feet maybe..?”

Acho obliges without another word, carefully taking both of the Sparrow’s hands and tugging her up until she’s standing. She looks shaky, and about one strong wind away from keeling over, but she takes another breath and straightens up anyway. She glances at Joel, wincing slightly. “I’m.. sorry for the scare. I-I wish I could explain, really, it’s just.. I.. I can’t..”

Joel grunts, frowning at the duo. He doesn’t like secrets inside the group very much, but he understands that some of them are very important to share with whoever, and well.. Joel isn’t exactly the closest to them right now, so he lets it go. They need time, he gets it. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” he says with a wave. “Just go back to the hut and lay down, you need a break. And I should be apologizing, I saw that you weren’t feeling well a long time ago, I should have acted before it escalated like that.”

Owen hums again, smiling wryly. “It wouldn’t have made a difference, trust me. Thanks for.. helping at all. It means more than you know.”

“C’mon,” Acho whispers, clutching Owen’s hand tightly and leading her out of the bakery in a bit of an awkward half-shuffle, sending one last glance back at the Red Panda. “Thanks again, Joel, see you later.” With that, the duo continues out into the streets, making their way back to the hut. Hopefully Apo’s either home already or gets home soon.. they still need to go and give a good excuse to Tekla for running out of the tavern like that…

---

Always so grumpy.. It’s pitiful, really.

…

Hm? Don’t feel like chatting now? Aww, is it because I killed your friend? Are you sad? Hmmm?

…Shut up..

Oof, how subdued! You are sad! Poor Owen… You’re no fun anymore, you know that?

I said.. shut up…

Oh please, that situation was never going to end any differently! The task was to the death! Either it or us.

There is no fucking us.

I’m in your head, aren’t I? We share this body.

No we don’t. I was doing fine before you showed up. I was living a whole life before those STARR bastards put you in my head. You’re a parasite.

I’m a weapon, Jutiv.

Agarci.

..Excuse me?

Owen Agarci. Jutiv is my father.

…Hah. You cannot be serious. You named yourself after the-?

Yes. Because I have a goddamn heart.

You wound me terribly, little bird.

I wish. Do you even have a name?

Not one you’d be pleased with.

As if I’m pleased with any of you?

Haha. Touché. It’s Owen.

Your name isn’t Owen.

Yes, it is.

I’m Owen. You may puppet my body, but you are not me.

Told you that you wouldn’t be pleased…

Fine. I’ll just keep calling you the damn General then.

Fine by me. I was very good at my role.

..Sure you were.

Don’t believe me, birdie?

I’ve never heard of any Generals turned war criminals turned parasitic demons, so. No, not in the slightest.

Wounded again!

If. Only.

Oh, come on, did you want that Dragon to kill you?

Maybe I did! Maybe I wanted to get out of this fucking hellhole instead of waking up standing over the corpse of my friend!

…Whistle~

Oh, shut up.

No, no, that’s impressive. I felt that death wish, birdie.

Shut. The fuck. Up.

You do want to die, don’t you? Aww, that’s adorable.

I swear to the Gods when I figure out how to physically fucking strangle you–

Good luck with that, Agarci. Looks like it’s time to wake up. Your little Demon friend is getting worried.

Good riddance.

You wish.

 

“Owen?” A worried murmur fills the otherwise quiet room, making Owen wince and pry his eyes open. There’s an orange glow from the outside, meaning that the sun has started to slowly set. Others are probably already finishing up with their work. 

“He’s a bit out of it…” Joel hums, somewhere to his right, probably also taking a break after a hard day at work. 

“Yeah, I can see that, ” Apo scoffs. Footsteps echo near him as Apo seems to get closer. “He doesn’t usually nap at a time like this. Did something happen?” She asks nervously, her knees touching the floor next to Owen’s head. 

Owen grunts hoarsely, squinting up at his sibling. He very shakily manages to lift his hand and point rather aggressively at his orange right eye, poking the black eye he’s been sporting since the General’s tussle with Acho. Even without words, he makes his frustration very known.

Apo winces, her face scrunching. “Ah.. it’s.. getting worse, isn’t it?” She questions, her voice small. 

Joel and Scar, who entered the hut right behind Apo, meet eyes, both of them confused but keeping quiet. 

Owen slowly nods, her trembling hand falling back to the floor. It is. It’s getting so much worse. Even now she can hear him, whispering and snickering in amusement at every violent, shuddering spasm that tears through her. Few and far between as they are, they frankly suck. Her head aches fiercely, she’s cold, she hates this, and she’s certain her face says all of it. Her siblings have always been able to read her well, especially in this state.

“Oh, Owen..” Apo whispers as she slowly lays down on the bare floor, turning onto her side and embracing the Sparrow, her head against Owen’s chest. “We are here for you.. We will fix this, I promise.”

“..How?” Owen croaks, burying his face in Apo’s hair, right between her horns. It’s awkward, but it’s so familiar and warm. He can’t bring himself to worry about the others in the room, just hoping that the hoarseness of his voice and the muffling conceals his words from everyone but his sibling. “It gets worse every.. every day, Apo, I.. what if he.. what if I lose…”

“We will find a way,” Apo says, her words strangely confident despite the trembling. “You’ll see, one day we will fix this, one day you will feel better. I promised that before, didn’t I? I’m gonna keep that promise,” she adds with a little nod, as she clings to Owen even harder. She’s not gonna lose him. She refuses to lose either him or Acho, they are all she has left as her family, she’s not letting Owen lose control.

Owen giggles wetly, clinging tighter in return. “..Yeah. Okay. Just.. maybe I should stick with you or Acho from now on.. just in case..? Or at least warn the others about the orange.. I-I don’t wanna hurt anyone…”

The Demon physically cringes, followed by a groan. She’s fully aware that Joel and Scar can probably hear them, and considering how their group is a bit too paranoid, they probably aren’t even trying to stop listening. Her disoriented sibling is clearly still too out of it to worry about that. “Yeah.. yeah, we should,” Apo murmurs. “Just.. take your time, okay? You don’t have to do that right away if you don’t want to, but when you feel like it’s the right time.. We’ll be there for you.”

“..Okay,” the Sparrow murmurs, moving his hands away from Apo’s hair to prevent from tugging on it, as another spasm jerks her body for a few seconds. She wheezes, pressing her head firmly against Apo’s head, as if it’ll alleviate her growing migraine. “Ugh.. ‘m so not sleeping tonight…”

“I mean, I can always knock you out,” Apo jokes weakly, looking up at the Sparrow. She can hear a small snort from Joel in the background. Loser isn’t even trying to pretend that he’s not listening. 

“Might take you up on that,” Owen grumbles without even a hint of his own humor, squinting down tiredly at the Demon. “Might shut ‘im up a bit longer. Head hurts.”

Yep. He is out of it, hoo boy.

“Ah, Apo?” Scar calls out, raising a hand. “I can.. go to Jimmy? Ask him for a sleeping potion before he leaves his shift? No knocking out needed.”

“That’s so not fun,” Apo grunts, turning back to Scar with an awkward smile, as the Vex giggles. 

“Imma do that, actually,” Joel grunts, standing up from his mat. “You stay here, Scar, I’ll be back,” he hums, as he quickly finds his shoes, puts them on, and exits the hut. 

Owen blinks sluggishly, watching Joel go as their brain stalls. They don’t blank, thank goodness, but it is.. hard to think. Gods, they’re so tired. “Wha.. Where’s he going..?”

“Oh my gosh,” Scar mutters, half amused and half concerned. “Wow you really need some sleep, Owen, jeez..”

“Sleep sleep,” Apo says, patting Owen’s head twice, causing even more giggles from the Vex. 

“I caaan’t,” the Sparrow whines, shuffling down until he can bury his face against Apo’s chest. “Head hurts… an’ he’s so annoying… Apo he doesn’t shut uuuuup…”

“Who doesn’t shut up?” Mumbo asks with a yawn, walking into the hut right behind Acho, the Fae immediately darting toward Apo and Owen on the floor.

“No one,” Acho says, crouching down by the duo. “Hey,” they whisper softly. “Everything alright in here?” 

Owen grumbles wordlessly, peeking out from his burrowing against Apo to pout as his sibling. He pries his hand away from Apo for just a moment and makes a grabbing gesture, squinting demandingly.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so tired,” Scar murmurs, a bit awed and a lot worried. He lets it go though, moving to Mumbo to cheerfully ask about their day and distract them from their curiosity.

Acho chuckles, circling the two on the floor to flop down by Owen’s other side. “You’re very out of it, aren’t you?” They joke, as soon as they lay their head on Owen’s arm. 

“He’s having a bad day, give him a break,” Apo giggles, lifting her head up to look at the Fae on the other side. 

Owen just grumbles again, nestling back in a nest of siblings. It’s warm.

“Cuddle fest already?” Grian questions, stepping into the hut with Martyn at his heels. “..Long day?”

“You could say that,” Acho huffs, brushing stars fingers through one of Owen’s wings, straightening any askew feathers with the expertise of years of practice.

“Sunlight’s lasting longer to be fair,” Martyn points out with a yawn and a stretch, fins shuddering. “And it’s getting hotter, Gods.”

“Yeah, it’s the end of April, we are slowly entering summer in one month; it’s expected, especially considering what village we are in. It’s already warm here in the winter because of the natural waters, but in spring and summer– especially in summer– it’s gonna be even hotter,” Apo hums, closing her eyes and relaxing even farther into Owen’s touch, as the exhaustion finally catches up to her. 

“Good for all of you,” Martyn grumbles, taking off his shoes and moving toward the closet to get his clothes for the night. “I’m the only one in here affected by the warm weather.”

“We’ll make sure to stop by bodies of water whenever we find them, once we’re moving again,” Grian placates with a chuckle, making a mental note to do just that. To stop more often, too. Gods know some people in this group need regular breaks. He’s ignored that long enough.

“I’m fairly certain there’s these.. ah, hydrating patches?” Mumbo awkwardly recalls. “Ah, Jimmy mentioned them once.. treating a merling that came into Cordelia’s office once, with dried up scales? Maybe you could stop by sometime and ask about those.”

“Good idea, Mumbo,” Jimmy chirps from the door, a grin on his face and a potion in hand, Joel right behind him. He approaches the Maze survivors on the floor, extending the potion in Owen’s direction. “Heard you needed a sleep aid?”

Owen sluggishly lifts her head, squinting at the potion. She huffs with a grateful nod, taking it with a shaky hand and carefully uncorking it to drink, and she cringes at the taste, but drinks it in slow sips; it isn’t nearly as bad as the healing potion she had to take for weeks.

“Thank you, Jimmy,” Apo smiles at him, her hand right below the potion, in case Owen accidentally drops it. 

“And Joel,” Acho adds with a nod toward the Red Panda, stars eyes showing more gratitude than it should for just going to Jimmy.

Joel grunts and nods awkwardly, lips pressed in a thin line as he moves further into the hut to get ready for bed. He still doesn’t know how to feel about what happened earlier, so he’s electing to simply ignore that it happened. For now, at least.

“Not a problem,” Jimmy hums, standing with a grunt and also going to get ready, in a different order of course. Only so many of them can squeeze into that bathroom, after all.

Owen hums, pressing the cork back onto the potion bottle when he’s done with about half of it, setting it aside and huddling back comfortably between his siblings, wings draped over them like feathery blankets. He can’t even be bothered to kick off his shoes at this point– in seconds, still clinging to Apo like a lifeline, he’s out like a light.

“Sleep well, Owen,” Apo hums sadly, also closing her eyes. She wouldn’t dare to stand up right now, and maybe it’s a bit early to go to sleep for her, but she’s not gonna disturb Owen’s peace. 

Acho on the other side debates standing up or not, so star can take off their and Owen’s shoes off, but then decides to let it be for the night, as they find comfort under the wings. 

“Grian?” Mumbo calls out quietly to the Sunbird, standing at the entrance, Scar by his side also turning toward Grian. 

Grian hums questioningly with a listening twitch of his head wings, not looking up, sitting on the floor and picking aggressively at his talons. They’re caked in dirt and blood, nestled in every dip of dark keratin. His claws rake through each one, flicking away the dust and specks of dry blood. It looks incredibly uncomfortable.

Both Scar and Mumbo cringe at that, the Vampire letting out a heavy sigh. “You know what? Nevermind,” he says, shaking his head. “Scar? Can you–”

“Yep!” The Vex chirps, quickly putting his shoes back on. “We are gonna check up on Scott and be right back!” He exclaims, before grabbing Mumbo’s hand and dragging him out of the hut. 

Grian snorts quietly to himself, shaking his head fondly. He’s glad Scar’s started to talk to Scott a bit too. Slowly but surely.. the group’s acclimating to them. It’s nice to watch happen. Even if some people would rather avoid the Avian like a plague.

Jimmy huffs in amusement, switching out with Martyn in the bathroom to brush his teeth. Maybe he can squeeze in some light preening before bed with Grian.. he has a feeling they both need it. If only Owen weren’t so tired, they could finally have that trio preening session he promised ages ago! Alas.. some other day.

Martyn hums, but otherwise doesn’t acknowledge Mumbo going back to the roof, as he approaches his mat and drops down with a grunt. “So are we moving soon?” He suddenly asks, tilting his head left to look up at the Sunbird. “You wouldn’t have mentioned the water on the move if you weren’t thinking about it, and we mentioned leaving the village a couple weeks ago..”

“I mean, we are gonna leave sooner or later,” Joel hums, sending a quick glance at the Maze trio on the floor. All three seem to be asleep already. “Also, the shower is free.” 

“Timmy’s probably gonna take it since he’s in there,” Grian snickers, before slumping again with a sigh, scraping another stubborn clump of dirt off of his talon. “I.. think we should move soon. I have a bad feeling.. we’ve been here too long.”

“A bad feeling?” Joel pries, tilting his head curiously.

The Sunbird hums. “..Call it a hunch, or a gut feeling I guess? I just don’t think we should stay here much longer.. we’ve overstayed our welcome a little, probably. And it’s getting dangerous, you’ve all seen it. People are getting a little sick of us.”

Martyn snorts. “I wouldn’t know, I spend most of the day on the farm, and the family is pretty much happy to have me, I might let them just take me; but I’d rather not do that to myself, I’m not gonna last long there..”

“What, getting tired already?” Joel asks with a snicker, receiving a scowl from the Siren.

“Easy for you to say, you work for eight hours like a normal person, most of us work more. Acho and Mumbo are in the tavern from the opening to the closing, and I also spend the whole day on the farm! Maybe you should try picking up another job, you know!” 

Joel sputters indignantly, and Grian lets their bickering fade into a low buzz, continuing to pick at his talons. They’re mostly clean now– it’s just a fidget by this point. He doesn’t like admitting it, but they have overstayed their welcome, and it’s not just making villagers uncomfortable anymore. He’s seen the rumors start to dig under his friends’ skin, he’s watched them grow more and more exhausted by the day, more and more sick of being cramped in this tiny hut at the beginning and end of every day. Being on the run isn’t the greatest, but honestly? Sleeping in the woods would be a mercy at this point. He’d be able to stretch his wings in his sleep, or rest in a tree to soothe his bird brain, same for Jimmy and Owen. Martyn could rest in some water and actually cool off, as opposed to simply hoping his scales don’t dry enough to crack, the only air on his skin coming from cracked-open windows. It’s uncomfortable here.

And there’s still that gut feeling. That instinct telling him that it’s unsafe staying in one place. He knows he’s just antsy because they’ve never stayed put for so long before, but still. It’s best that they keep going soon. If only to free up the hut for other travelers and rid the group of their restlessness.

Grian is in the shower by the time Mumbo and Scar come back. He doesn’t know what they talked about with Scott for so long, but both seem to be in a good mood, so he guesses it went well. As they take turns in the shower, Grian downs a cup of water, stretches, and crawls under his blanket, trying to find a somewhat comfortable position. Martyn is sitting on his own mat, like always, waiting for Mumbo to finally relax in a familiar embrace. 

“Goodnight,” Scar whispers as he walks by the Sunbird, planting a kiss on top of his head, and then moving to the bed. 

“Goodnight,” Grian whispers back softly from the ground, closing his eyes. 

As the time goes by, his eyes become heavier, and he starts to slowly drift, hearing small echoes of footsteps on the floor as Mumbo passes by, gently ruffling Grian’s hair. He can’t find any strength to answer, but he doesn't need to say anything. He just hums, and Mumbo chuckles, humming back as he moves to his own mat, lying down by Martyn’s side, and tugging the Siren into a hug. By the time everyone is asleep, the stars finally show up in the night sky, a soft glow seeping into the hut through the windows. 

~

Grian wakes up to a very startled Acho. There's a quick shift under Owen’s wing, and Acho suddenly stands up with a loud thud against the floor, making half of the people in the room jump and slowly open their eyes, looking around.

“Wha–” Joel whispers, blinking at the standing figure of Acho, trying to get used to the darkness. The light from the outside wasn’t enough to tell what was going on inside the hut.

“Acho?” Apo asks softly, lifting herself up on her elbows. “Everything alright? Did you get a nightma–”

“Shh!” Acho interrupts her, and a second later, another loud thud follows, but this time from the outside, something hitting the door.

“The fuck?!” Martyn exclaims, getting up on his feet, the others immediately following, as they scramble around for their weapons. 

“They know we’re here,” Acho states, holding up stars fists, ready to fight whoever it is outside; but they frown at the door in confusion, because they swear they can hear a.. fight?

Jimmy is standing stock still, staring intently at the door, not making a grab for any weapon. He stares, squinting and listening just like Acho is. “..Quiet,” he whispers, brows furrowed. There’s definitely a fight going on out there. He can hear the muffled grunts of effort, the swipe of a knife through the air, and.. growling, yes, definitely growling.

“What do you hear?” Grian hisses, wings tense. “Tim.”

Jimmy just shushes him, not taking his attention away from the door. The thud on the door didn’t sound like a knock, it sounded like someone being thrown against it. He’s almost afraid to ask what’s going on out there, but he’s even more afraid to say he has a feeling that he knows. 

“Fuck it,” Martyn snarls, and with a new sword that they managed to get him in the village, moves toward the door. 

“Martyn!” Mumbo grunts, immediately following the Siren. “Wait a minute! It might be a trap!”

“Well, if it is a trap, I’ll play a sacrifice,” Martyn says with a sharp grin, as he kicks the door open, ready to swing his sword at whoever comes his way. 

Instead of a trap, or a lunge of an opposing blade, the group is treated to the sight of Scott roughly pinning a masked STARR soldier to the ground, growling under their breath and pressing a knife to their new victim’s throat. They go stiff at the loud bang of the door flying open, glancing up for a moment, but their grip on the soldier doesn’t let up. They’ve contorted one of their feet to keep the stranger’s arm on the ground, their free hand taking care of the other arm. The soldier’s left leg is bent at a very wrong angle, and the other is pinned by Scott’s other foot. Scott doesn’t seem the slightest bit out of breath or injured, though it's hard to tell in the dim light of the moon, while the masked guy is desperately gasping for air and bleeding from all sorts of precise slices. The rope, previously thought to be holding Scott securely, lays innocently in a heap nearby, not even cut into pieces. They didn’t claw their way out– they simply untied themself.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding,” Martyn whispers, his eye twitching as he stares down at Scott. 

“Oookay, this was not what I expected..” Mumbo murmurs, followed by nervous giggles, as he tilts his head slightly right, calling back into the hut. “Ah.. Guys? There’s a STARR assassin here.. and Scott.”

“And Scott?” Joel squeaks, quickly moving forward to look out of the window, while Grian darts to them at the door. 

“Oh my,” Jimmy croaks, blinking rapidly in disbelief, as if trying to dispel a hallucination. No, nope, what he’s seeing is definitely real!

Scott just frowns, grunts, and returns their attention to the assassin. In one swift motion, they slit their victim’s throat and jump to their feet, wiping the blood off their knife and sliding it into its holster before moving back to the rope on the ground. They pick it up and stare at it for a moment, before facing the group again and extending it with a small tilt of their head.

The group stares at Scott for a second, now even more confused, as Martyn finally turns around and walks back into the hut with a sigh, dragging Mumbo back with him. “I’m going to sleep,” he says, passing a shocked Grian by.

“Ah!” Mumbo exclaims, looking between Martyn and Scott, but doesn’t argue, allowing the Siren to drag him back to their mats. 

“Are they... asking us to tie them up again?” Joel asks with an awkward smile, his eyes darting between Scott and the dead assassin on the ground. 

“What in the name of the Nether..” Apo huffs, looking out of the window. She never had much contact with Scott before. She knew Scott was strange from the conversations around, but this? This is absurd. 

Grian finally shakes away his shock and moves outside, approaching Scott carefully. “Why.. do you want to be tied back up?”

Scott blinks, tilting their head further. They slowly lay the rope over their arm and slowly sign, ‘MAKE YOU-ALL FEEL SAFE.’

Grian nearly chokes. “I– buddy, that was before we knew you could apparently just– u-untie yourself??”

Scott blinks again. Their eyebrows actually furrow. ‘YOU DIDNT KNOW?’

Grian does choke this time. He has.. no words. This whole time. This whole fucking time, Scott was allowing themself to experience severe discomfort with the knowledge that they could escape it at any time, while thinking the others were doing it for the hell of it? That the group felt safe because Scott was uncomfortable, instead of feeling safe because they were restrained? What the hell?!  

“Oh, this is making my head hurt,” Owen grunts, walking back to his mat, while Acho and Apo stay close to the entrance. 

“I wonder if they were alone,” Joel hums, looking down at the assassin. “We should check the territory, right? In case there are more? And, I guess your hunch was real, after all,” he adds with a bitter smile. 

“Y..yeah…” Grian croaks, still staring wide eyed and utterly gobsmacked at Scott. How does he even react to this? What does he do from here? There’s no point tying them up, and they just.. protected all of them. Of their own volition, they saw a threat to the group and neutralized it, quiet and efficient. They could’ve let that assassin get inside. They could’ve turned the other way, or even worse, could’ve helped the guy! They didn’t. They helped the group.  

“..Come on,” Jimmy murmurs, waving Joel forward. “Let’s.. let’s go look around, yeah? I don’t hear any more but better safe than sorry.”

“...Right,” Joel sighs, shaking his head disbelievingly and following Jimmy, the two of them walking out of the hut and toward the nearest gap in the village wall. He trusts his brother-in-law’s hearing, but like he said, better safe than sorry.

Scott stares at Grian, their confusion visibly growing the longer the Sunbird is quiet. They awkwardly extend the rope again, but Grian makes no move to take it, further confusing the wingless avian. Their lips press in a thin line as their eye darts from the corpse on the ground, to the hut, to the others watching from windows, back to Grian. They look so lost. 

Grian blinks. His mouth moves faster than his brain. “D-do you wanna come inside?” He regrets the offer the very moment it leaves him. Idiot.

Scott blinks right back, tensing further and very firmly shaking their head, shoulders hiked up nearly to their ears. They seem to realize that Grian has no intention of using the rope anymore, so they huff, drop the thing onto the Sunbird’s shoulder, and bolt up to the roof before anyone can blink twice. They don’t use the rocks or anything, they just run up the wall of the hut as if gravity is an option they don’t answer to.

“Do you wanna come inside, Grian?” Martyn calls out from inside the hut, obviously mimicking the poor Sunbird. There’s a snort quickly muffled, as someone tries to keep quiet. 

Grian groans through gritted teeth. “Sorry, sorry, I know, I blurted that without thinking! They said no, obviously, come off it.”

“..So who’s dealing with the dead body?” Scar awkwardly questions from his place in the doorframe. “I don’t think the village will take kindly to, uh.. that…”

“I got it,” Grian murmurs, turning and moving to grab the corpse by the leg and drag it into the woods. Can’t exactly start a fire without alerting people, so half-assed burial it is. Far away, obviously. Ugh. They have.. a lot to figure out now, don’t they?

Notes:

Translations -

"MOTHERFU-"
"Gods, what did I do?"

---
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Chapter 17: Do not walk to where you were

Notes:

TW// Dehumanization, blood/injury, brief talk of abuse, dissociating, implied drug use, panic attack, sensory overload.
CW/ Sex jokes, feet?? jokes??? (chat, chat, chat, please, chat no, chat we don't know how this happened, chat-)

Chapter title is from "Neath the grove is a heart" by Yaelokre.

Hover mouse over messed up text for translations!
(Mobile and tablet users please see the End Notes)

Despite claiming that he was gonna sleep, Martyn wasn’t able to close his eyes even for a minute the whole night. He’s getting really irritated by everything at this point, and it needs to be fixed as soon as possible. He.. understands that Scott protected them. He understands that despite having an opportunity to kill them, it didn’t, instead putting itself between the enemy and the team, and that.. makes him feel weird. Very weird. After everything, his instincts are still in disarray, telling him to keep up the guard, to protect his family, especially after the attack. Joel and Jimmy ended up circling the territory a few times just in case, but they didn’t hear anything, so it was said to be safe for the rest of the night, and yet..

By the time sunlight started seeping through the windows, he was still wide awake, when people around him started shifting, leaving their own dreams. How could they even sleep after something like this? Especially Grian, Jimmy or Mumbo! Those three always worried the most, and yet all three were so calm after the initial shock wore off, going back to their mats and falling asleep rather quickly. This made him nervous. He didn’t like being jumpy like this, he knew he was annoying when he was like this, but he just couldn’t stop.

There’s a voice that Martyn recognizes as Owen’s, but he can’t catch a word, making him frown. But he didn’t have to wonder, as Grian’s– much louder– response followed. “Yeah, I think it’s a good time to stand up,” he hums, sitting up on his mat, and stretching, his wings spreading as far as possible above the bodies on the floor, the feathers almost touching the opposite walls of the room. Gods, Martyn hates this place. 

“Wake up, guys,” Grian says louder, crossing his legs and putting his elbows on his knees, one arm over the other. “We need to talk and plan this out as fast as possible, so everyone up!” A few groans follow from around the room, as people start shifting around even more, some even sitting up, trying to keep their eyes open. 

“What time is it?” Apo grumbles from the floor, frowning, as she turns on her side, blinking rapidly. 

“Just passed five in the morning,” Jimmy announced, looking up at the clock on the wall, making the group groan even louder.

“The sun isn’t even properly up, what the hell…” Acho whines, throwing an arm over stars face. 

Scar sits up with a yawn and a stretch, eyes still shut. “So sleepy.. I don’t think I genuinely rested at all, man…”

“I was way too keyed up,” Joel agrees with a tired groan, rubbing at his eyes while his tail flicks irritably. “Saying in advance that this is very rhetorical, but why are we up so blummin’ early…”

Jimmy snorts, giving the Red Panda a consoling pat on the shoulder. Questions for the sake of complaining is such a mood, honestly.

“So.. what is the plan, exactly?” Owen asks, her wings giving persistent pats to her siblings’ faces to get them up. “I imagine we can’t just pack up and leave without a word, right? Most of us have jobs. Temporary, sure, but still.”

“Bah!” Apo huffs, protecting her face from Owen’s feathers. “Meanie..”

“Yeah, we aren’t gonna just pack up and leave without a word, I was thinking about most of you actually saying goodbye to people you know here. You know, the people that you worked with. We can stay in the village for the day, so you can finish the shifts today without others having to find a quick replacement for you, but the moment we are done with work and commissions, we take a three hour break to sleep no matter what hour it is, then pack up and start moving. I think it will be good to leave closer to the night,” Grian hums, tugging at the sleeves of his shirt. 

“Well, if we get some time to sleep before that,” Martyn says, stretching, as he also finally sits up, Mumbo still laying by his side and blinking at the ceiling with a yawn. 

“Yeah, of course,” Grian says, nodding. “And we aren’t gonna walk the whole night either, just maybe four or five hours to get as far away as possible from the place, and then we can take another break for sleep ‘till morning.”

“...Okay I guess I’ll do it, uh..” Scar hesitantly speaks up again, shifting nervously. “What’re we doing about.. y’know…” The Vex very pointedly looks up at the ceiling, then back down at the others with a grimace.

Acho grunts, swatting Owen’s wing away and sitting up. “...Question of the month, honestly. What the heck are we doing about Scott?”

“Oh boy,” Jimmy whispers, already putting his face in his hands. He has a feeling this won’t end well. At all.

Joel’s nose scrunches, but he says nothing. He’s already been trying to figure out how he feels about Scott, and then last night happened. It threw a massive wrench in his already very conflicted emotions. And anyway, he doesn’t exactly have much of a say here, does he? He hasn’t so much as approached Scott since they started stalking the group from that damn rooftop.

“Is there a chance you might consider leaving it behind?” Martyn asks bitterly, raising an eyebrow at the group. 

“Martyn..” Mumbo looks back at him with a frown, as he immediately sits up, their shoulders almost touching. “We can’t just leave them behi–”

“I know, Mumbo, I just–” Martyn cringes, his tail flapping behind him in distress. “I’m gonna point out the fact that I agreed to keep it around if it was bound, so we could feel safe, I could feel safe, but it– That stupid rope was nothing the whole time, and I don’t know what to think about that. I don’t like the idea of having it around us, when we can’t restrain it or protect ourselves, we will be out in the open once we leave the village, this is dangerous.”

Mumbo opens his mouth to say something at Martyn’s first sentence, but shuts it, deciding to let the Siren finish his thought, before he jumps back in with a slight confusion on his face. “Okay, I understand that you don’t feel safe with an enemy being free, but didn’t this show that Scott isn’t an enemy at all? I mean.. All I got from this, is that they agreed to a rope to make us feel safer, then kept it on and even asked to be tied up multiple times, despite being able to free themself the whole time. They never attacked us, or even untied the ropes to run away, instead just sitting in the place where we left them. The only time they moved was when we were attacked and they protected us.”

Martyn bites down on his lip, staring back at the Vampire, not knowing what to say. Mumbo sighs, tilting his head, before adding, “I think.. I think you’re just trying to find a reason to leave them, but there’s actually none, because they proved that they are safe, and yet you don’t feel like it. So despite all the logic, you still see them as an enemy. But it’s… a bit unfair to Scott, don’t you think?”

“If I got called out like that by Lizzie, I would have killed myself,” Joel murmurs, dropping down on the mat, and receiving a punch from Jimmy.

“Dude!”

“Who’s to say they wouldn’t just.. I dunno, follow us anyway?” Acho wonders aloud. “If we did leave them behind, y’know? I mean sure, they could just go back to STARR, but they’ve clearly had that option the whole time. It’s like Mumbo said– they could’ve done any number of things over the past near-month we’ve been in this village, and they didn’t. They weren’t even tied up for the first week! If we left them here, they could just.. come with us anyway, no ‘permission’ needed.”

“...They were making themself feel unsafe to make us feel safe,” Scar murmurs, knees hugged to his chest as he stares at the ceiling. “The Morse Code.. the shaking, them bein’ all jumpy… The random mood swings, the way they could be just fine with closeness one second and.. lash out the next..? The way they show clear, tangible emotion and then shut down at a moment’s notice? Grian mentioned them asking if we’d use chains on them, that’s– I-I dunno about you guys, but it at least paints a pretty clear picture for me… ”

Martyn drops his head in his hands with a heavy, shuddering sigh. Scott would feel more safe alone, without any ropes, or unwanted touches, and Martyn would feel more safe without it being around, why can’t they just under–

“Okay,” he scoffs, placing his hands down on the floor. “Fuck it. If you want to take it with us, go for it. I will try to ignore it as much as I can– if I get irritated or stressed, well you knew it would happen, so..”

Mumbo looks back at Martyn sadly, moving his bandaged hand to Martyn’s healthy one, intertwining their fingers. “It will be fine.. I promise, it’s gonna be fine,” he whispers, bumping his forehead to the Siren’s temple. 

Martyn listens to his boyfriend’s reassurance, and he wants to argue. He looks down at their hands together, and wants to split them apart. Mumbo always understood him, so why is it that he can’t understand him now, when Martyn needed it the most? I promise? He already broke one promise when it came to Scott, who’s to say this one will be true? 

“Okay, so.. we are taking them with us?” Apo questions, lifting herself up on her elbows. 

“I..” Grian hesitates, biting his lip and glancing at Martyn. He can’t.. compensate everyone in this situation, it’s just not possible. There’s no way to please everyone here. He just.. really wishes there was. He wishes they were all on the same page, that Martyn wasn’t so.. angry. More than that, though, Grian just wants to understand. “I’ll.. ask them…”

Joel scoffs quietly, fighting an eye roll. Ask them, right. Suuuure.

Jimmy cringes, shrinking into himself slightly. Well! This.. could be worse. Could be.. explosive, for one. He still doesn’t like the look on Martyn’s face. He doesn’t like the scoff from Joel. He doesn’t like Grian’s hesitance, Grian’s never hesitated so much in his life. He doesn’t like the wariness in nearly everyone’s features, the uncertainty, the fear, the.. divide. Why does it feel like the state of their group is worse than the way they started out a whole year ago? Why does it feel like the drifting is only worsening? He doesn’t want to blame Scott, but.. oh, who is he kidding? It started with Scott. It all.. goes back to Scott…

“I hate to ask, but what’s the plan if they say no?” Owen asks rather bluntly. “If they don’t want to tag along on foot with us? What then, we leave them here anyway? ‘Cause I’m not having them follow us from the damn trees, that’s just freaky.”

“I– ah.. I-I dunno,” Grian admits, his wings already halfway to shielding himself. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know anything.  

“I say ask them what they want, and let it happen,” Mumbo says, shrugging. Martyn sends a raised eyebrow toward him, and the Vampire tenses slightly, fidgeting with his fingers. “If.. If Scott doesn’t want to go with us at all we leave them here in the village, so they can choose wherever they want to go. If they don’t want to follow us by foot, let them do it from the trees until they are comfortable to get close, and if they want to be there with us, we keep them as close as possible.”

“Aha.. ” Martyn murmurs, his grip on Mumbo’s hand getting tighter. He doesn’t seem to notice a slight wince from the Vampire, his eyes for a second darting down to his bandaged hand in Martyn’s. “I– Okay. If you think it’s better…” he says, looking away. 

Joel actually feels like crawling out of his skin, what the hell is going on in here?

Owen takes a deep, steadying breath, rubbing at her temples. Alright. Sure. Basically just suck it up, it’s the stalker’s choice, alright then! Void below, it’s too early for another headache…

It takes everything Jimmy has not to bolt out of the hut, the tension genuinely makes him want to rip his feathers out. He hates this. He hates this so much.

“Y-yeah.. right…” Grian mutters with a nervous smile. The anxiety is becoming a concerningly common sight. “Okay.. O-okay, so we all spend today working our last shifts, saying our goodbyes, the works. Come back and maybe get some rest, pack up, and leave. I’ll.. talk to Scott. Any, erm.. objections..?” 

The group looks at each other in silence, before awkwardly shaking their heads and standing up to start some of the packing. Martyn sighs heavily. Objections? He has many objections, but well. 

“I say just take a shower, and then pack up the clothes and hygiene products, we can leave everything else for later,” Owen mutters, stretching, as he turns back to the bathroom. “Don’t leave the showering for later, we might not have time for that!” He calls out to everyone. 

Grian takes a shaky breath, rubbing at his face and finally giving in, letting his wings scoop around himself in a makeshift feathery shield. Sometimes he really hates himself for getting attached to Scott. Sometimes he hates himself for letting the group split like this, for letting Martyn drift away, for letting everything go to shit. He’s not a Captain anymore, but he is a leader. He’s who they look to for answers, who they need to give them answers, but he has none. He’s just as lost as the rest of them, and he despises himself for it.

He’s.. not in a rush. He doesn’t have anyone to say goodbye to, and he can talk to Scott in a little while. For now he just needs a minute. Or several really, several minutes to drown in the hatred. Just for a little while. Everything’s gonna be fine.

Grian sits there and breathes for what feels like hours, letting the world blur away. He hears the packing and the showering, and he hears everyone slowly file out to go to their respective jobs. Grian stays on the floor, curled up in a ball between his wings for.. not really hours, but certainly a while, just until everyone’s finally left. That’s when he finally takes a deeper breath, unfurling his wings and shakily rising to his feet. To the roof he goes then.. this should be.. hm. He actually has no expectation for this. He knows better than to try and guess how a Scott interaction will go at this point…

The Sunbird makes his way to the roof on that familiar rock pile, swallowing thickly and taking yet another deep breath as his eyes meet Scott’s uncovered one. They look.. tense, antsy, arms free and claws flexing against their legs. Not a great sign.

“Good morning, Scott,” Grian mutters with an awkward smile, putting his hands up to make a ‘HELLO’ sign. His eyes dart around Scott, only now remembering that the fact that they dealt with the assassin, doesn’t mean they got out unharmed. It brings some reassurance, as he doesn’t see anything physically wrong with their new friend. At least nothing that wasn’t there before.

Scott stares for a few excruciating seconds, silent as ever, before signing a simple ‘GOOD MORNING’ in return. Their eye scans over Grian much like his did over them, finally looking down at the roof shingles in front of them once apparently satisfied. Somehow it didn’t cross Grian’s mind that they could be just as on edge from last night’s.. encounter as the rest of them are. They fought the guy for goodness sake!

He takes a deep breath, before he slowly moves closer to Scott and sits down, leaving a safe, comforting distance between them. Not too far to feel lonely, or as if they are scaring him, and not too close to make Scott feel trapped. “Are you.. alright? After yesterday. You did good, I’m saying this to make sure that you know it. You helped us.. Thank you.”

Scott blinks, glancing back at the Sunbird and daring to perk up just slightly. It did good? It was.. It was good… Oh… And he’s worried, that’s– Why is he worried? Why does he look like that? It did good, it was good, so why.. is he concerned..? Its injuries were minor, scarred back over by skulk before sunrise, and only acquired thanks to its own incompetence. It still did good. The Sunbird has no reason to worry.. but he’s always worried…

Scott ducks their head again and nods, a tiny and unbearably shy motion. They’re outright fidgeting with their pants now, picking at frayed threads while their ears lower in what looks like embarrassment.

Grian lights up a bit, not expecting such a shy response, but still appreciating it. It’s nice seeing Scott like this, more.. expressive. More human. “Great, now that you are aware how grateful we are, I wanted to talk with you about something else. The attack yesterday.. Well, we were kinda expecting it at this point, it was bound to happen, but now that it did happen, staying here is dangerous. We are planning to move today. Leave the village, take a direction and follow it until we find another town or a village.”

Scott blinks slower this time, gradually nodding along. That makes sense. They are actively being chased by.. by its previous owners, so.. Yes, it would be wise to stay on the move. What does this have to do with it though?

Ỏ̴͎h̵̰̓,̵̹̍ ̶̜͌y̸̪̐ọ̴͠u̶͈͘ ̸̩̄s̴̼͆w̶͙̓e̷̙͂ë̴͔ț̵̉ ̵̛̙ö̴̲b̴̧͋l̴̰̀í̶͍v̵̲̓į̴͝ȍ̵̺u̴̟̽ș̴͒ ̷͉̀t̴̥̒h̴̘̔í̴̫n̴͉̊g̸̳̓.̴͔̓

Shut.

Grian notices that question in Scott’s expression. Sometimes he doesn’t understand anything that is going on in their head, but other times it’s so obvious, it feels like he’s reading an open book. This particular emotion– confusion– from Scott makes him giggle a bit. 

“Yeah, so now that we will be moving, we wanted to ask what you want to do,” Grian says, pointing at Scott. “Do you.. want to stick with us? You don’t have to if you don’t want to, you can find something for yourself, but if you want, you can join us.”

Scott’s expression pinches this time, head tilting. Join.. them? As in travel with them? As in.. continue to disobey.. continue to run, continue to hide? Why? Why would he want it with them, why would he trust– What about-?

‘SIREN,’ Scott signs with a perplexed squint, frowning deeply in question. Then they add, ‘RED PANDA.’

Grian physically cringes, scratching at his nose. Of course Scott was gonna ask that, they were pretty.. aware of how those two felt about them since the start. Makes sense for them to worry. “They.. agreed to let you join, if you want. It’s-” Grian sighs heavily, rubbing at his eyes for a second, before he puts his hands on his knees, and looks back at Scott. “Listen.. I would say Joel, Panda, is at least somewhat neutral toward you. He.. doesn’t seem to hate you, if you think he does. He’s been warming up to you, it’s very visible. For him it seems complicated, but at this point, I know some part of him is aware that you’re a friend. He’s just stubborn. That same stubbornness goes to Martyn, and well.. He’s.. difficult. He’s worried, stressed, and very irritated, which doesn’t allow him to follow logic sometimes, but even then, he’s just overprotective.. It’s nothing personal toward you, it’s just.. a Martyn thing. He’s gonna ignore you, at least that’s what he said. He’s probably gonna be mean from time to time, and I understand if you don’t want it, if you prefer going on your own, but me and some of the others will be happy to have you around. Martyn just.. needs some time.”

Scott hugs its knees to its chest and rests its chin on them, staring at the roof with its eyebrows furrowed. Somehow it doesn’t believe that for a second. The Siren is.. angry, justly angry, at it. It hurt him, hurt those he cares about, of course he’s angry! Scott doesn’t think the others would be.. happy about it being with them. The Sunbird and Vampire maybe. Probably? But everyone else… it’s seen the discomfort. It’s seen the looks they send it, it’s seen the tension whenever it’s near them, like they expect it to jump at them at any moment. It can’t exactly blame them, can it? Even Scott knows how.. volatile it is. It doesn’t want to lash out, but that doesn’t change the fact that it does lash out. It.. can’t stay.

It already thought about this weeks ago.. It has to leave, has to distance itself from them. They’ll only get hurt if it sticks around, it.. It has to go. The Sunbird is kind, the Vampire is warm, but Scott can’t stay.

‘I STAY HERE,’ Scott finally signs, tucking the lower half of their face between their knees and pointedly refusing to look up at Grian. They look so conflicted, dare Grian say sad, but there’s a firmness in their eye. They’re not allowing themself to budge from this decision.

“I should have just stayed there..”

Grian closes his eyes, trying to fight away the tears threatening to spill from his eyes. Gods, he knows this feeling. He lets himself breathe for a moment, calming down, before he stands up and takes a few steps forward, getting closer to Scott, and shattering their usual “comforting distance” rule. As soon as he’s close enough, he drops down on the ground in front of Scott, his knees almost touching theirs.

“It’s.. not really healthy. For us, I mean. I understand that, I’m not that blind to their problems. Yes, they are scared sometimes, and it keeps us anxious, but they do understand that you’re trying, and they are ready to give you a chance, Scott. I-” He frowns, biting down on his lip. “I’ve hurt people I love too. And Martyn. And Joel. Scar.. has his own problems, and there have been some situations when it was bad, but we still kept close, together. You hurt them, you hurt me too– but I forgave you, because you regret it, and I know others will too, even Martyn one day. As I said.. It will just take some time, but in the end, I know you will find yourself with us.. Please, Scott.. You don’t have to give up on your happiness because of your mistakes that you actually regret.”

Scott curls up tighter, but its eye shifts to Grian, watching him intently. His eyes are sad. It can’t.. it can’t. It hurt them too much, it’s done too much, it can’t it can’t it–

‘I. STAY. HERE,’ Scott signs again, this time with firm emphasis on each movement. Their hands are shaking. They swallow thickly, and sign again, slower and.. afraid. ‘I HAVE-TO GO BACK.’  

Grian feels sick, as his vision sways for a moment, his breathing hitched. “I– Scott, you d-don’t have to go.. go..” He can feel his eyes getting wet, he can feel his whole body shaking. Going back? Back to them? To– to Them? “You can stay here.. Or– or find your own way, Scott you don’t have to go back,” he croaks, his hands itching to grab Scott’s, to make sure that they are listening, that they understand. But he keeps his hands to himself, instead just leaning a bit closer, the desperation seeping in his voice. 

Scott makes eye contact again, and they look so incredibly sad. Almost pitying in a way, which can’t possibly be an accurate assumption, but it certainly looks like pity. They sign again, ‘HAVE-TO. SORRY. SORRY. I GO BACK. YOU GO. S-T-A-Y SAFE PLEASE.’ They go the extra mile, possibly not even consciously, tapping out safe repeatedly with their foot. That goddamn Morse Code.

Grian immediately brushes the tears away, breathing in and out. “Okay.. O-okay, if you.. If you’re sure.. If you think this is for the best..” He mutters, staring down at the roof between them. “That.. goes to you too. B-be safe, okay? Stay safe..” He adds, slowly standing up, his eyes still focused on the roof. He can’t look at Scott, he can’t.  

Scott stares up at the Sunbird for a moment, before gradually rising to its own feet while continuing to stare. It’s seen the Sunbird quiet before, it’s seen him.. small, but this… This is new. This is.. familiar. The Vampire did something when Scott looked like this, didn’t they? They…

It’s moving forward before it can think to stop itself, wrapping its arms around Grian with only a little stiffness. It tries its best to replicate what the Vampire did, squeezing him gently, clinging to the back of his shirt. The Sunbird is frozen, so it stays for a moment, before pulling away and hastily bolting into the trees. Out of sight, it needs to be out of sight now. It’s comforted the Sunbird, so now.. Now it has to go back. It has to go back and just hope that it’s valuable enough to punish instead of kill. Just.. hope.

Grian stays behind frozen. He can’t breathe, but it’s not as if he’s even trying. He stands there, his eyes still stuck on the stupid roof, the arms around him now nowhere to be found. He heard the shuffle of the leaves, so he knows that Scott is gone. Gone.. They are.. gone.

It takes a few minutes for him to finally breathe in, blinking at his surroundings, before he turns around to leave the roof. He doesn’t have any reason to stay there anymore. It’s over. Scott is going back to STARR and he can’t stop them. They are going back to the place that treated them like an animal, the place where they weren’t even a person. 

“Back..” Grian murmurs, as he drops down on the stone at the side, then turns the corner, moving toward the door to the hut. 

It’s empty inside when he walks in, as expected, and he knows that the others won’t be back for at least a few hours, which makes his chest even heavier. With shaking legs, he moves to his mat and once again drops down, shielding himself with his feathers and burying himself in the darkness. All the little moments with Scott pass by inside his mind, reminding him over and over again, that he just fucked up his only chance to give Scott a normal life. 

Scott runs. It runs and runs and runs as if fleeing for its life, running faster than it ran to chase the people it was meant to kill, faster than it’s probably ever run in its life. It’s not entirely sure why, it’s certainly in no rush to return to STARR. Is it fleeing? Not from a beast, but from the Sunbird? Is it fleeing from Grian? Is it afraid?

…It feels afraid. The kindness was terrifying. The care was so.. strange. It’s only ever been cared for by its team, being cared for by the people it was meant to kill is baffling. Unbelievable. Terrifying. So it runs. It runs and it doesn’t look back over its shoulder, doesn’t dare glimpse back to the kindness. 

If it looks back.. it might stop running. It can’t do that.

---

“Just unbelievable!” Scar exclaims, counting the coins in the pouch again.

“He actually gave us less than promised?” Apo groans, moving closer to the Vex to look inside of their little money bag. “You’d think a little town would be mostly filled by nice, honest people,” she grumbles, kicking a stone, as they near their hut. 

“Well, it’s still something,” Scar mutters bitterly, as he hooks the bag to his belt. “We’ll need any money we can get, now that we will be on the move again,” he hums, his bitterness slowly vanishing. 

“Yeeeah, yeeeah,” Apo huffs, as Jellie meows on her shoulder. “I’m so not ready for the run again, we just settled down, I hate this,” the Demon adds, as she opens the door to the hut, Jellie jumping down and running inside first. 

“Me too Apo, me too,” Scar hums with a nod, as he follows her inside. The second he’s in the room, his eyes immediately fall on the bundle of feathers on the floor. “Grian?” He calls out, worried, as he moves closer to the Avian. 

Apo perks up, also looking back at Grian on the floor, and furrowing her brows. Did something happen, or was Grian just.. not in the mood? A lot of the people in the group seemed in a wrong mood recently. 

Grian says nothing. He doesn’t make a sound, he doesn’t even move. Scar’s expression grows a little grimmer, settling carefully on the mat next to his partner. “G? You with me?” When that still yields nothing, the Vex softly sighs, reaching out to run a hand gently through iridescent feathers. “Birdie.. can you hear me at all? I need you to move just a little if you can hear me…”

Still nothing. Not so much as a twitch.

Scar hums, very worried now. He continues brushing his fingers through the Sunbird’s feathers, trying to coax him back to awareness. Something must’ve happened.. but what could possibly get him dissociating this badly..?

“Scar?” Apo calls out quietly, nervously shifting behind him. “Do you.. need anything?” She asks, her eyes moving from Scar to Grian. 

“A-ah.. no, I don’t think so,” Scar hums, smiling tensely at the Demon. “You make sure your stuff’s packed, maybe try and get some rest. I’ll.. try and handle this. I’ll figure it out, thank you though.”

“Okay,” Apo whispers, as she turns around to give them space. Acho and Mumbo said they won’t be staying in the tavern for lunch, because they won’t be taking a second shift today, so looking at the time.. Almost two, which means they will be back soon enough.

Scar takes a small breath, returning his attention to his partner. It’s been a very long time since he’s seen Grian dissociate, and even longer since he’s seen the Avian dissociate like this. Gods, this might be a two person job.. Mumbo’s always been better at this than Scar is..

The Vex makes himself comfortable, continuing to brush through Grian’s feathers to no avail. His wings don’t even shift, which is a whole other level of concerning. What in the world happened?  

It takes twenty minutes for Acho and Mumbo to finally show up, carrying the little plastic boxes filled with food. Probably a goodbye gift from the people in the tavern. Mumbo notices the problem as soon as he takes a step inside, his eyes immediately going wide at the duo on the floor as he puts all the food on the table, and with a wave toward the whispering Acho and Apo, moves to the floor, flopping down on Grian’s other side.

“What’s going on?” He asks anxiously, gently brushing his hand through Grian’s feathers. “Grian?”

“He hasn’t even moved since I got here,” Scar mutters, worry etching every inch of his face and syllable of his words. “Probably even way before that, just based on how.. bad this seems.. Either he can’t hear us or he can’t move, Mumbo, I-I don’t know what to do..”

Mumbo hums, nodding, as his hands tremble in Grian’s feathers. What.. caused this reaction? Yes, Grian was a bit stressed recently, but this? He bites down on his lip, suddenly reminded of something, as he turns back to Acho and Apo, calling out. 

“Guys?” He asks nervously, his eyes darting from Grian to the other two. “Can you.. check up on Scott on the roof? Grian was planning to talk to them, and if I’m right..”

Acho gasps, immediately turning around and leaving the hut, Apo following behind them. The door shuts behind them, leaving Scar and Mumbo alone, sitting around Grian who still refuses to move, his feathers scarily still. 

Scar takes a shaky breath, throwing caution to the wind and nuzzling the Sunbird’s wing. “C’mon Gri.. we’re here, please do something.. You don’t gotta say anything, just.. just a little shift..”

“It’s not gonna work,” Mumbo hums, and as expected, they get no reaction from Grian. Mumbo sighs heavily, laying down on the floor, and running his fingers through his feathers. “Me and Acho talked to Tekla as you asked,” he whispers softly, close enough for Grian to hear. “She was really sad when we told her that we were leaving, but she wished us good luck, gave us food, and even paid us for two shifts, instead of one, despite us not finishing the second, it was very nice of her..” 

Scar looks between Mumbo and Grian with a pained look. Grian is still not answering, but.. He supposes, this has helped Grian before. Mumbo once said that it was probably a genetic thing.. Grian, like an actual bird, finding solace with music or talking. It’s not for everyone though, the voice needs to be familiar, to make him feel comfortable. He guesses the Sunbird would feel much calmer with Mumbo and Scar talking, but still doesn’t help much with his own panic. 

He lets himself drop down on the ground, as Mumbo continues talking about his day in the tavern, not even waiting for Grian to answer or react, just focusing on the story to tell. It grabs Scar’s attention too, and a few minutes later, he notices that Mumbo’s voice was soothing not only for their avian friend. 

“–was sooo upset, she grabbed Acho and hugged them with such a strength, it punched the air out of star, you should have seen Acho trying to stand straight after she put them down,” Mumbo says chuckling, before he slowly tilts his head toward Scar, over Grian’s feathers. “What about you, Scar? How was your day with Apo?”

Scar blinks a couple times, eased from the foggy headspace of just listening to the Vampire talk. He feels weirdly relaxed, almost sleepy. “A-ah! It was.. it was fine? We got underpaid.. again… We did our job down to the letter and he still gave us way less than promised, it was dumb..”

“People are dumb,” Mumbo adds, nodding his head. 

“Everything is dumb..” A low whisper comes from under the feathers, as Grian shifts slightly, curling even tighter, his feathers shuffling under Mumbo’s soft touch. 

The Vampire scrunches his nose, looking at Grian. He opens his mouth to say something, to guide Grian out of his current state, when the door opens for Apo and Acho to enter, both of them weirdly anxious. 

“Ah, Mumbo?” Acho calls, as soon as they close the door behind them. “They aren’t there..”

“Oh?” Mumbo furrows his brows, looking back at the Sunbird, and then at the Vex. So something happened.. Did they have a fight? Did.. did Scott do something again, not meaning it? Oh gods, is Grian hurt under the feathers and that’s why he doesn’t want to show himself?

“Yeah, we thought maybe they were somewhere close, but..” Apo picks up, biting down on her lip, as she moves back to her mat, trying not to look at the trio on the floor. “We couldn’t find them anywhere.. Maybe they are somewhere with the others? Following us again now without the rope?”

Scar swallows thickly, trying not to let his hand shake as he continues brushing through Grian’s feathers. “..Grian? Do you think you could shift your wing a little again if you’re at least physically okay in there? I don’t need anything else from you right now birdie, I promise.”

The Sunbird is terrifyingly still for a moment, but soon his wing does twitch, with a little shake of some feathers. Scar sighs softly in relief, nuzzling his partner’s wing again. “Okay.. thank you..”

“...They left,” the Avian finally murmurs, wings shuffling again. “They.. went back.. I couldn’t convince them not to.. I-I froze up, I..-” He cuts himself off with a warbling chirp, noticeably trembling under his partners’ hands.

“Back? As in-?” Mumbo bites down on his lip, and feels a quick rush of the blood inside his mouth, as his body shakes, Acho taking in a deep breath behind him. 

“Oh..” Apo whispers, hugging the knees closer to her chest, and staring down at the floor. “That’s.. bad. And I don’t- I don’t want to sound selfish, but that’s bad both for them and for us, right?” She asks nervously, looking between the people in the room. 

“But why?” Acho asks, brows furrowed. “I mean.. I know they didn’t have the best time with us, but.. i-isn’t– click-whistle!– going back to them much worse? Didn’t we-we-we decide to let them stay because we thought they didn’t want to g-go-go– whistle!– back?”

“Because they’re brainwashed,” Scar hums, strangely numb now. He keeps brushing Grian’s feathers. “We figured out that they probably grew up in those labs. The pain and.. whatever else they experienced is likely all they’ve ever known. Being smothered in even just two unfamiliar people that genuinely care about them was probably.. a lot. I imagine they coped better with Martyn’s attitude than they did Mumbo’s or Grian’s, y’know..? We already know their emotions are volatile. Maybe they don’t want to go back, but I bet they didn’t think they had a choice.” The Vex sighs, shuffling around so he can press his forehead gently between Grian’s shoulder blades, continuing to brush through his wing. “Escaping that kind of mindset.. it isn’t as easy as walking away.”

There’s a soft sob under the feathers, as Grian shifts once again. This time his voice is even more muffled, wings shaking uncontrollably, as he tries to keep it down. 

“Gri..” Mumbo whispers, as he sighs heavily, putting his forehead against his wings. “You tried to stop them, right? That’s the only thing that matters.. If they chose to go, none of it is your fault.”

Acho’s foot taps against the wooden floor, the sound echoing throughout the whole room, as he suddenly turns away. “I– I’m gonna get the mat and the b-blanket,” they mutter, as they leave the hut, going back to the roof. There’s no need for it being there anymore, Scott doesn’t need it anymore. 

Apo stays behind, as she finally legs go of her knees, and instead leans back, flopping on the mat and staring up at the ceiling. “This is not a good day, honestly, it’s not even an evening yet..” She grumbles, putting her hands on her forehead. “We.. still leaving today or–?”

“Yeah,” Scar confirms with a light sigh. “Yeah, we’re.. we’re still leaving. Later. Gotta.. wait for the others..” Gods, he wants to sleep. Preferably forever. Would Grian mind it if he fell asleep like this?

Mumbo sits up, looking around the room, and once his eyes fall down on Scar, as if hearing the question in the Vex’s mind, he mutters, “You can go to sleep, Scar, if you want to. Grian told us to take a nap after work before we leave, remember? Take your time,” he hums, as he stands up. “I will probably walk around the street for a bit, maybe pop up in the market just in case, and then come back and do the same.”

“You’ll be alright out there alone?” Apo asks, tilting her head, to look up at the Vampire. “You can ask Acho if you want to-”

“No,” Mumbo says firmly, shaking his head. He looks.. very uncomfortable. “I’m gonna.. I’d rather be alone for a few minutes. I’ll be back soon, I’ll be fine,” he hums, his eyes shifting back to the Vex on the floor. “Good?”

Scar hums with a small nod, shuffling around again until he’s curled up and leaning sideways against Grian back, eyes already closed. He falls asleep remarkably fast.

Acho walks back in silently with a passing nod to Mumbo, mat and blanket rolled up underneath stars arm, which they simply set aside before moving to Apo and laying down next to her. They pull her into a hug without preamble, burying their face in the crook of her neck with a sigh. Star’s tongue clicks and their head jerks a couple times, quickly returning to their spot with a soft grumbled apology. The Demon just hums, holding star loosely and paying no mind to the occasional twitch.

As the three fall into a more calm atmosphere, Grian still hidden under his wings, Mumbo sighs heavily, reaches for a little pouch on the table, turns toward the door, and leaves. 

~

“That’s a bit too expensive, don’t you think?” Mumbo asks, frowning, as he grips the pouch on his side harder. They have money, yes, but now that they will be on the run again, this.. This is just not enough for so many people. 

“Listen, my guy,” the seller hums, tapping his finger on the wood, two little bags on the counter. “This is a village, we do not have a lot of resources, so of course everything is expensive. I’ve seen you around for a while now, you should have gotten used to it,” he teases, raising an eyebrow toward him in a mocking manner. “This area is good for gold and emeralds, redstone on the other hand?” He leans over, sliding one of the bags closer to Mumbo. “You can always buy one, if you want, it will be much cheaper that way.”

But he can’t. He needs one bag for the team, and the other… He needs both of them. How long ago did they count the money? Will.. will the others notice if some of it disappears? He doesn’t want the others to know about the second bag, so he can’t exactly explain where fifty extra pieces vanished to. He knows that there’s at least four hundred pieces in the pouch he has right now, most of them either in gold or iron, but fifty is still too much to take without anyone noticing.. What if there’s not enough in the other bag that Scar has been carrying around? 

As he stands there in his thoughts, frowning while his mind paces around, counting all the money they could have gotten in the past month, another person cuts in the line, paying for his items and–

Mumbo blinks, staring at the back of the person leaving, because he turns back to the seller. “Did you– You just sold the same thing for lower-”

“Listen,” the man on the other side of the counter starts again, clearly getting irritated. “You either pay, or you leave.”

“Not very welcoming to travelers, I see,” Mumbo grumbles bitterly, his hands clenching. Someone just got this stupid redstone for half the price that Mumbo was given, how is that fair? 

“Oh, trust me, it’s nothing against travelers,” the man scoffs, leaning back against the chair, and before Mumbo can open his mouth, adds, “And nothing against your kind. I can see it in your eyes, man. If you’re so desperate.. go for it and pay, but if you’re not, well, I’m making it harder for you to get in trouble.”

Ah. 

Mumbo feels as if his blood is boiling. It’s not, he knows his blood isn’t able to even get slightly warm, but the feeling is there. See it in his eyes? Fucking bullshit. There’s nothing in his eyes. There’s no trouble. 

He reaches for the pouch, quickly counting the coins into pieces, as the man in front of him sighs heavily, pushing the second bag toward him. “Well.. That’s your choice. Don’t think you need a manual for safe use of redstone,” he hums, as Mumbo drops the money on the counter with a huff and takes the bags, turning around and leaving the shop without a word, the itch under his skin growing with the desire to sink his teeth inside.

---

“That.. cannot be comfortable,” Martyn whispers with a cringe upon walking into the hut. Grian’s sitting up with his knees hugged to his chest, half-hidden in his limp wings, and Scar is in a very similar position, just.. tipped sideways against the Sunbird’s back. “Scar’s legs have gotta be killing him, jeez.. He didn’t even take off his braces?”

“Should we move them?” Joel murmurs, tilting his head with a frown. “They look exhausted, I don’t want to jostle them too much.”

“Well I’m not trying,” Owen snorts weakly, shuffling past the two so she can join her siblings on the floor. “You two have at it, if you like. I’m getting some sleep.”

“Acho’s here..” Martyn mutters, this time to himself as he squints at the cuddling Maze survivors. Where is Mumbo? They were with Acho all day, weren’t they..?

“Yeah, I’m here,” Acho grumbles from the floor, opening his eyes just a little to look up at the squinting Siren, after hearing their name. Terrifyingly good hearing. “Everything good?” They ask, looking around. “You want me to move Scar?”

“Just go to sleeep, Acho,” Apo whines, headbutting the Fae with her eyes closed, as she tries to go back to sleep with a yawn.

“Ah.. d-don’t worry about it, get some rest,” the Siren assures star with a tired smile, shaking away his worry and making his way to his mat. He needs to have more faith in his boyfriend. Mumbo’s fine.  

Joel heaves a sigh, placing his bag on his own mat and moving to adjust Scar and Grian, just a little bit. He has experience with Grian, and Scar.. he looks tired enough to stay asleep. Hopefully.

Thankfully the Vex and Sunbird both only stir a tiny bit, and don’t so much as open their eyes as Joel gets them into a more comfortable position, laying down and holding each other loosely. Their limbs are still a bit tangled, but the Red Panda just loosens Scar’s braces and calls it good enough, finally shuffling over and collapsing onto his mat with a grunt.

A sound from the outside follows just a few minutes later, as Jimmy also shuffles into the hut, with an extra bag that he did not have this morning. 

“I’m back,” he whispers into the room, noticing that most of the people are either already asleep, or trying to sleep. He takes his shoes off at the door and then leaves the bag under the table, slowly walking over the people on the floor before moving toward his mat. He frowns, as he looks around the room, noticing that someone is missing. “Where’s Mumbo?” He asks quietly, dropping down on his mat between Martyn and Joel’s. 

There’s an awkward shuffle from the maze trio, as Acho sighs heavily. “He went for a walk.. Said he needed some time after..”

“...After?” Martyn asks, sitting up straight as his worry returns with a vengeance. “After what?”

“Ah, so I wasn’t just at a wrong angle,” Joel hums, still starfished on the floor. He sighs. “Scott left, didn’t they? I didn’t see them on the roof.”

“Oh Void, I didn’t either,” Jimmy murmurs, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. “Grian did say he’d talk to them while we were out..”

“Before you get all paranoid and say something,” Acho starts, directed mostly toward Martyn and Joel. “Nothing happened. At least nothing physical. They just talked, and I guess.. Scott decided that it would be best for them to.. go back.. to STARR.”

“Wait, WHAT?!” Owen exclaims, sitting up and staring down at the Fae. “What do you mean back to STARR?”

“Dragon’s sake…” Martyn groans, burying his face in his hands. “Mumbo and Grian didn’t take that well, did they?”

“Of course they didn’t,” Joel snorts with very little amusement. “That certainly explains things.”

“Back to STARR..” Jimmy whispers, looking vaguely ill yet absent, his breath becoming shorter as his hands begin to subtly tremble. “Back.. why would they..? Why would..”

Joel tenses, looking back at Jimmy with furrowed brows. “Jim? It’s– I know you kinda bonded with them, but don’t worry about this too much, okay?” He says softly, sitting up to put his hand on Jimmy’s shoulder. “I don’t think we’d fully understand why they did it, but.. It was their choice.”

Jimmy very nearly wheezes in distress, nodding vigorously and patting at his face a couple times, trying to ground himself. “Right, mhm, don’t.. don’t understand. That’s why, yes, just.. confused. S-sorry, almost freaked out on you there..”

“You’re good, Tim,” Martyn hums, tail flicking and writhing anxiously on the floor. “Who knows, maybe it’s good for them. It’s where they came from ‘n all.”

The Canary goes rigid under Joel’s hand, eyes darting to his best friend. His voice is little more than a croak when he speaks next. “..Good for them..? Martyn, did you just say it might be good for them? Tell me I heard you wrong. Martyn please tell me I misheard you.”

“Ahh– guys?” Joel calls out with a nervous smile, as he tries to slowly move between the two. 

“Oh my god, not again,” Owen huffs, hiding his face in his hands, as Acho snorts from the floor.

Martyn raises an eyebrow confused, slightly turning from where he’s sitting, to face the Canary. “I just mean– Looking at their behavior, they were in STARR their whole life, and they were so confused and sometimes horrified at the way we live, so maybe it’s better–”

“What about us, then?!” Jimmy snarls, his whole body trembling. “Do you think we’d be better, we’d be good back in the military?”

“It’s not the same,” Martyn huffs, looking away. 

“Martyn..” Joel groans, rubbing his eyes. 

Jimmy stares, trembling but silent. His face goes terrifyingly blank, not angry, not sad, just.. blank. Loud. Loud. Loud. Slowly, the Canary reaches up and takes Joel’s hand, slowly moving it off of his shoulder and standing up. Without a word, he robotically walks to the door, leaving the hut barefoot without a twitch in his expression or another sound leaving his mouth. He doesn’t want to fight with Martyn. If he stays, he’ll say something he’ll regret. He can’t risk that, not in this state.

He waits until he makes it to the wall of the forest to break into an unsteady sprint, sobs sputtering violently from his lips as tears stream endlessly down his cheeks. He doesn’t have his shoes, his feet ache fiercely as he runs over rocks and sticks and branches and all sorts of forest debris, but he can’t make himself stop. His magic is going haywire. It’s loud. It’s so loud.  

“Oh boy..” Apo whispers, still laying on the floor and clinging to Acho. She’s a bit more awake now, but she’s almost afraid to sit up and see what’s become of the group. She’s with Owen on this one.. not again…  

“Seriously, Martyn?” Joel asks, raising an eyebrow toward the Siren, a deep sigh escaping him. “You really know how to comfort people..”

“Okay, can you not continue that?” Owen asks, sounding very annoyed, as he stares at the duo. “Others are trying to sleep, you clearly made Jimmy upset, and I don’t think Grian would be happy about this conversation either. Be glad that he’s asleep right now.”

Martyn scoffs weakly through gritted teeth, resigning himself to curling up on his mat, facing away from Joel. Why is shit always his fault now? What the hell does Jimmy have to be so upset about? It’s not the same! It’s so far off from being even close to the same! Scott chose to go back, he was trying for once to be a little positive about that Fucker to make Jimmy feel better and he still gets ridiculed for it? Gods above, why does he even try anymore?!

As Joel also turns away from Martyn with a huff, laying down to sleep, Owen sighs heavily. “Good gods,” he mutters, as he leans back, once again finding comfort between his siblings. This.. makes him worry. Grian makes him worry, now Jimmy also does, and what are they gonna do with the whole Scott situation? Are they truly gone? He doesn’t know, and he has a very bad feeling about it. His eyes dart toward the exit, and something catches his attention.

“I’m gonna go check up on Jimmy,” the Sparrow whispers to Apo and Acho, as he slowly stands up. “He left without his shoes, and I want to see if he’s okay.. Might also find Mumbo, he was gone too long, I think.”

“Are you sure?” Apo asks, her voice very tired. Owen just smiles, ruffling her hair, before he does the same to Acho, and then moves toward the door. 

“I’ll be back soon,” he promises, putting his own shoes on, grabbing Jimmy’s, and leaving the hut. 

~

Jimmy didn’t think it was possible for his magic to get this bad. Every sense he has is completely drowned out by what he can hear.

His feet are bleeding, but he hears the blood sluggishly leaking from the wounds there instead of actually feeling the sting. He hears his own wheezing and gasping and sobbing, but he can’t taste the salt on his tongue, can’t feel the way his lungs struggle with every breath. He can certainly hear it all. He can’t even see. He hears the forest, hears himself, hears the village and the springs and individual conversations. He tries to tune them out, he really does. It helps, in the worst way, that it all blends together at some point as long as he lets it. 

His feathers are probably actively staining green. That sickening bright green, the green of Them, the green of his self-imposed prison all those years ago. He can hear it, the way the magic in his wings is sparking with the wrong energy, turning both sets of pretty yellow feathers into Their green. He’s certain he’s surrounded by it, the area around him alight with tainted magic, and he’s certain that anyone near him would be able to feel it. The wildlife certainly does, retreating from him as the energy grows. Even beings without access to magic of their own would be able to feel the pure Void-dipped energy around him now, twisted by power he never should’ve allowed himself to get. Wrong. It’s wrong, it’s loud. He’s in a bubble of corrupted magic, and he doesn’t know how to make it stop this time. No amount of breathing will fix this. 

Good for them.

Good.

They went back.

Maybe it’s good for them.

Should’ve stayed. Never should’ve left. It was safer there, shut away from the world, from anything that could hurt him like They hurt Grian. 

Maybe it’s good for them.

Were They good for him?

Good for them.

Good.

Good.

Good .

~

If Owen learned anything both in his time in the maze, and with this group, it’s that if something emotional happens and someone runs away visibly distraught, on the verge of tears, search for them in the forest. There’s something calming about being surrounded by so many trees, and being able to see or hear someone approaching, so it also gives some sense of privacy, which is the main factor most of them go for when upset or distraught. 

That’s why, the second he’s out of the hut, Owen darts toward the closest gate out of the village in search of Jimmy. He thought it would be harder to find the Canary, considering that Owen gave him a long time before finally going after him, and yet, he’s staring at the grass in front of his feet, slightly stained in red. Jimmy’s blood probably, as expected; he did run away without his shoes on, and most of the way between the forest and the town is just sharp stones. 

“Jimmy, where are you?” Owen mumbles under his breath, following the trail of blood. It takes him at least another minute or two before something reaches his ears. He can make out Jimmy’s sobs, often interrupted by a hiccup and him hyperventilating, choking, and gasping for air.  

Gods, Owen understands that what Martyn said was kind of upsetting and insensitive, but he didn’t expect such a reaction out of the Canary, which makes him tense even more, as he finally circles the last trees between them, and finally sees Jimmy’s state.

The first thing that catches his attention is.. his wings? Why.. why are Jimmy’s wings green? They are not green, he’s lived with this man for a year now, he would know! In fact his eyes are green too, and those aren’t meant to be green either! He’s certain of it!

“Jimmy?” He whispers, as he steps closer, noticing the Canary holding his palms down on his ears, as if trying to cut off all the sound around him. 

The Canary shakes his head violently, not so much as glancing up at Owen. He heard the other coming, of course he did, he hears everything. The footsteps on stone and grass were like gunshots in his ears, and the whisper of his name sounds more akin to an explosion going off right beside him. It’s a wonder he hasn’t lost his hearing, like Martyn did, but it only gets worse. How can the world possibly be getting louder?

Jimmy’s breathing doesn’t slow, his sobs don’t falter, and the green only seems to spread. The air almost feels.. thick? The sensation is hard to describe, like something pushing the Sparrow away, making all sorts of alarm bells go off in her head. Something is deeply wrong here.

Owen’s wings twitch behind his back as he gives out a low chirp, taking another step closer toward Jimmy to sit down by his side. He notices Jimmy’s hands pushing down even harder, worried that at this point, Jimmy might actually hurt himself. Honestly, people often underestimate the physical strength of avians, because sometimes they can easily break someone’s bones with a hard enough grip, so Jimmy pushing down on his ears and skull like this? Threat of brain damage right there. 

“Jimmy,” he whispers softly, as low as he can, knowing that he probably hears him, as Owen slowly lifts his hand toward the Canary. “Are you with me? Can you hold my hand?”

The offer of physical grounding is far too enticing to pass up, so Jimmy is grabbing Owen’s hand in the deadliest of death grips before she even finishes her sentence. He only barely reels himself in enough not to literally shatter her bones, but that’s where his restraint ends. He’s.. probably hurting her anyway, but he doesn’t hear any threats of breaking from anything in her hand, so it’s probably fine. It helps. His other hand naturally migrates up, tugging ruthlessly at his hair, grounding him further. He can’t yet tell if it’s making everything louder or quieter though. He hit the threshold of how much he can feasibly process a while ago.

Owen winces at the grip, but doesn’t say anything, instead taking a deep sigh and sitting even closer, as she slowly wraps her other hand around Jimmy, tugging him closer. She does it as slowly as she can, testing the waters, making sure that Jimmy is alright, while her eyes continue darting between Jimmy’s distraught face, to his wings, to their locked hands. 

Jimmy just whimpers, nearly scrambling in his haste to press himself up against the Sparrow, shaking so badly it almost feels like he’s vibrating. He finally finds words, but he sounds so small, “‘S loud ‘s loud ‘s so loud, Owen, I-I can’t make it stop–”

Owen doesn’t know what to do, how to help. Gods, he doesn’t even understand what Jimmy means by this. Loud? He knows that Jimmy has good hearing, and there were situations when he proved it was better than Acho’s, who is a Fae! Good hearing is their thing! But Jimmy shaking like this, being in pain like this, because everything is... too loud? What does he even do with this now?

“I– I’m sorry, I don’t– know how to help,” Owen confesses, trying to keep her voice as low as possible. Is she hurting Jimmy by talking? “Jimmy.. How can I help?” She mutters, holding onto Jimmy’s back, keeping him close to her chest.

“I don’t know,” the Canary sobs helplessly, pressing his forehead way too hard against Owen’s chest. “I don’t– hic– I-I don’ know, ‘s never this bad, I– did I-?” He sobs again, squeezing the Sparrow’s hand just a little harder. Oh Void he might actually break her hand– “Did– were They– were They good for me? Surely They weren’t, surely– Should I have gone back-? No, no surely not right, I-I shouldn’t go back, I don’t want to, ‘s not good–”

Owen hums sadly, starting to put some pieces together. “I don’t know, Jimmy, do you think STARR was good for me? Should I go back into the Maze?” he says, sounding strangely soft, instead of bitter. “It’s… Hm, I think what Martyn said was really stupid. Just because Scott found this world weird or uncomfortable, doesn’t mean that their previous life was better. When something happens in your life that makes you sheltered, that makes you surprised by the world outside, by the kindness, I think it’s safe to say that it wasn’t good for you. And I think it’s safe to say that if they hurt you, or you don’t want to go back, then it was not good for you.” She circles her hand between Jimmy’s trembling wings, trying to bring some comfort, while ignoring the pain in her hand. Honestly, she doesn’t care right now if he breaks it, it totally won’t be as painful as a broken wing, and well, if she survived a broken wing, she can survive a broken hand. 

Jimmy very belatedly realizes that he’s not crying anymore, instead taking.. probably still too fast breaths, but not as frantic as before. He sniffles weakly, loosening his grip on Owen’s hand and letting go of his own hair. If they hurt you, then it was not good for you. They.. certainly hurt him.

Then it was not good for you.

That’s what gets the noise to die down, just a bit. The green stain on his feathers begins fading, and he manages to relax slightly in Owen’s arms. It’s slow, but that bright Canary yellow gradually returns to his feathers, and he doesn’t think he’s ever been more relieved to see the color yellow. It’s still loud, so terribly loud, but it’s reaching the point where breathing does help. “Not.. good.. Not good f’r me…”

“Yeah, not good for you,” Owen hums, nodding. Her eyes are fixed on Jimmy’s feathers as they slowly turn their usual yellow, and she smiles softly, noticing the Canary slowly calming down. “Hey, how are you feeling? Does anything hurt?” She asks, gently putting her chin on top of Jimmy’s head.  

“Mm..” Jimmy hums weakly, giving a small shake of his head and nuzzling against Owen’s chest. “..’M sorry. That was a lot, I.. don’t usually let that happen…” He swallows thickly, making himself as small as possible in the Sparrow’s arms. “Not that bad, anyway.. I tend to have a better handle on it…”

“I have no idea what that was and I’m very confused,” Owen says with a chuckle. “Do you feel better now, at least? It looked.. painful, whatever it was. And color changing?”

“Mhm,” Jimmy hums again, agreeing to.. basically all of that. “My.. magic. I-it’s hard to explain without a lot of context, and I don’t.. I really don’t want to scare you..”

That makes Owen chuckle again, as she remembers her own little scary stories and explanations she has to tell the group one day, probably as soon as possible. “Yeah, trust me, whatever you say, nothing’s scaring me of all people. I have my own relation with weird things, and weird magic.” He stops for a second, letting out a heavy sigh. “Should explain that to the team soon.. Acho and Apo know, so they can deal with it, help me when I need it, but.. Keeping such a big secret from the team you basically spend your days with, is a bit.. stressful and hard.”

The Canary hums a third time, this time in understanding. It.. would be nice for someone to know, wouldn’t it? The only person he’s ever told has been his husband, and Tango isn’t exactly on this run with him now. He can’t bring himself to tell his closest friends or his brother, and he and Owen.. did bond a little, didn’t they? That day by the river? Owen opened up to him.. Maybe it’s Jimmy’s turn.

“..It’s gonna sound insane,” he murmurs, half warning Owen and half stalling. “You might think I’m insane.”

Owen giggles, slightly hysterical. “It’s kinda ironic that you’re telling me that out of all people, to be honest.. Will–” Owen bites down on her tongue, grimacing, as her smile drops. “Will it be better if we do a secret for a secret? So both of us can look a bit insane.” She doesn’t know why she’s doing this. Just yesterday she said that she wasn’t ready to speak with the others about this, and yet, this moment feels right..

“Y-you don’t need to do that,” Jimmy croaks, feeling a flash of guilt at the notion. He wouldn’t dream of having Owen explain something they’re not ready to explain! Certainly not a secret, he just needs to pull himself together. “I.. I’m not saying I’m opposed, but if you’re not ready..”

“I mean.. I do have to tell it either way,” Owen says with a nervous giggle. “And honestly? When I do.. I’d rather have someone from.. the others already knowing, instead of just Apo and Acho, you know..” She looks away, slightly tense. She knows the reason why she’s afraid of telling others this, and she knows that having someone already know and.. well.. accept it, would be much better than facing the whole team later on. It will be a bit reassuring, knowing that at least someone from the others will understand and be by her side.. If Jimmy will be, of course. But looking at how worried Jimmy is at his own secret, she thinks she has higher chances with him than any of the others. 

Jimmy swallows, slowly nodding and relaxing against the Sparrow again. “..Okay. If you’re sure, then.. d-do you want me to go first..? I think I can go first..”

“Yeah, you can go first if you want,” Owen says softly, bringing his other hand up to Jimmy’s head to brush through his hair. 

The Canary hums, taking a deep breath. The world isn’t loud anymore, he can breathe. It makes what he’s about to say.. just a little easier. “...The short answer is that I joined a cult when I was nineteen. I’m what’s called a Listener.”

---

The path back to the hut is short, as they walk side by side in silence. They talked and shared their worries, and it was enough for now, as they both ended up being comforted by the other. As Owen thought, talking to Jimmy was the best idea, considering how accepting the Canary was in the end. He reassured her that everything was alright, and nothing would change toward her; at least now he would know what she’s going through and how she might need help from time to time.

Jimmy’s secret… well, it’s certainly a load of baggage. Makes Owen a bit worried about the Canary’s mental health currently, she will make sure to keep an eye out, and maybe cover him when he needs some time alone in the forest again. Hiding this and sneaking out is probably not a good way to deal with such a painful magic release. 

She’s still surprised by the fact that she’s the only one on the team to know, though. Now that she knows the context, it.. sort of makes sense, considering the super hearing, but the idea that Jimmy’s family doesn’t know.. wow. Things are really changing in the group, huh? 

When they finally reach the hut once again, she notices Jimmy going still by her side for a second, giving out a deep, heavy sigh, before he starts walking again, getting closer to the door. The first thing that Owen notices upon entering the hut is that everyone is already asleep. The second thing is that instead of three empty mats, there’s actually only two, Mumbo’s mat now occupied as the Vampire spoons Martyn, holding the sleeping and relaxed Siren in a tight hug. 

This month was really just a constant up and down with this duo, wasn’t it? At one point Mumbo is keeping away for some reason, making Martyn both upset and angry, and the other they are spooning, their mats pushed together. 

“Those two..” Jimmy murmurs, visibly exasperated but smiling fondly. With a sigh, the Canary pats Owen’s shoulder and nods toward her siblings, before walking over to his own mat and flopping down unceremoniously. He is exhausted, and they don’t have long left until they need to leave this village.

Owen chuckles, leaving his shoes by the door and moving to her mat between Acho and Apo, flopping down. Acho immediately cracks one of their eyes open, staring at the Sparrow. 

“You good?” The Fae asks in a whisper, and Owen nods, getting comfortable between the duo.

“Yeah.. better than expected, honestly.. I will tell you when we’ll be on our way,” Owen says, covering herself and the other two with her wings, and with her head against a soft pillow, she starts to slowly drift, all the exhaustion catching up to her. “Good sleep,” she mutters, both to Acho and Jimmy, knowing now that the Canary is very capable of hearing it, as she gets a hum in return from the Fae, and the sleep takes over. 

Jimmy huffs softly to himself, curling up and blanketing himself with one wing. He told someone. He really told someone about the Listeners. He told Owen, and Owen told him about…

Gods, so many things make sense now. The warnings Owen gave him about potential situations was certainly.. worrying, but nothing he felt he couldn’t handle. The General… He can’t say he saw it coming, but it did make a few things finally click about the Sparrow. Namely, the low hum of unnatural magic that seemed to follow her like an infection. A parasite, she called it. Called him. It sounded terrifying, the uncertainty of control over her own body, that she could be kicked into the back of her own mind at a moment’s notice. Horrifying.

It felt like a relatively equal exchange of information, which.. does help. But now he can’t sleep. His mind is racing. He’s so tired, but there’s so much to think about. He needs to plan. Surely there’s a better way to reign Owen’s control back than knocking her out… Surely he can figure something out. And Jimmy is nothing if not a planner.

It was in two hours or so, when the silence in the room was disrupted by a shuffle, as Mumbo blinks his eyes open, scrunching his nose. The sun is still in the sky, and one look at the clock tells him that it’s not even eight yet, which is good, they planned to move before nine, so they have another hour to pick up the rest of their stuff. That doesn’t matter right now though, the only thing that matters is the smell of blood. For a second he wonders if it’s his own, maybe the bite on the vein didn’t heal well, but giving another sniff, he recognizes it as Jimmy’s and immediately sits up, startling Martyn, who was in his arms before being violently thrown away.

“Ah?” Martyn yelps, looking around in search of a thread, his eyes blinking. “What?!”

“Ah–” Mumbo cringes, turning back to the Siren. “Sorry– you alright?” He asks nervously, reaching toward Martyn’s face, and brushing his thumb against his cheek. 

Confused and disoriented, Martyn immediately calms down, leaning into the touch. “Yeah– Yeah, I’m fine. What about you? What was that? Is everything alright?” Before he adds in a soft whisper, “Did you have a nightmare?”

The Vampire nods, looking at Jimmy, sleeping close to Martyn from the other side. “Sorry, I just– smelled blood and panicked.”

“Blood?” Martyn asks, Mumbo’s words finally waking him up, as he follows the Vampire’s eyes toward the sleeping Canary. “Ah.. he ran away without shoes, maybe–”

“Yeah,” Mumbo hums. “That’d explain it, the smell is coming from his feet,” he says with a yawn, as Martyn snorts.

“Do you sniff people’s feet often?” 

“Okay, now stop that–”

Martyn moves closer to Jimmy with a little giggle, ignoring the Vampire behind him, as he slowly shakes the sleeping man. “Timmyyyy,” he chirps, his hands on the Canary’s shoulder. “Are you huuuurt, Timmyyy?”

“What’s going on in there?” Acho yawns from under Owen’s wings, lifting their head up to look at them. “Is it time already?” Star asks, stars eyes darting toward the clock on the wall.

“Yeah, I think so,” Owen grumbles by stars side. 

Jimmy grumbles, batting the Siren’s hands away with his wing and opening his eyes into a squint. He tries.. very hard not to make his lingering devastation present in his face. He thinks he succeeds. Probably. “‘M not hurt, M, go ‘way.. tryna sleep..”

“Hear hear..” Apo mumbles tiredly, still nuzzled rather aggressively against Owen. “Sleepyyyy, sshhh…”

“You’re always sleepy,” Joel snorts, throwing his pillow at Apo, but accidentally hitting Owen instead. 

“What did I do?!” Owen yelps, not expecting a pillow at her face right after she woke up. “Don’t drag me into this!”

“Are we gonna start a pillow fight?” Martyn asks, grinning, as he turns back to Jimmy. “Because if you’re not gonna wake up, so we can check where you got hurt, I’m hitting you with mine again and again until you’re fully awake.”

“Good gods, Martyn, he’s hurt, give him a break,” Mumbo laughs, dropping back onto the pillow. 

“I am not,” Jimmy groans his insistence, swatting at Martyn with his wing and curling his legs backward to hide the dirty wounds on his feet. Hm. Maybe he.. should’ve cleaned those actually, Mumbo can probably smell the dried blood.. aaand they might get infected, not exactly good practice, he knows better than this… Ugh.

“Yeah ‘m always sleepy, so lemme sleep,” Apo whines, burrowing stubbornly under Owen’s wing.

“Did I hear pillow fight?” Scar questions groggily, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes. “‘S too early for a pillow fight, guys..”

“Okay, Jimmy, we need to get your wounds cleaned, come on, man,” Martyn grumbles. “Mumbo can smell your feet! I’m deeply uncomfortable by that fact, just so you know!”

“Oh– my gods," Mumbo mumbles, hiding his face behind his hands, as Joel near them bursts into laughter, followed by both Owen and Acho’s low chuckles. “Shut up Martyn!”

“Wha’s this about feet?” Grian murmurs from his place on the floor, sprawled out on his stomach with his cheek squished against the wood. “Why’re we smellin’ feet, Mumby?”

“Oh my gods,” Owen giggles, lifting his wing and poking at Apo’s cheek. “Up up, c’mon.”

“Nooooo…” The Demons hisses, swatting rather pathetically at the Sparrow’s hand.

“Stop smellin’ my grippers, Mumbo, jeez,” Jimmy mumbles, flapping his wing at Martyn again. At this point it’s just to be annoying, honestly. He can’t stay upset with Martyn for the life of him.

“I’m not smelling anyone’s– I hate this place, I hate all of you, running away, never seeing you again. Breaking up with all three of you,” Mumbo grumbles, pointing at Martyn, Scar and Grian. “I’m done with all of you, you all hate me.”

Martyn giggles, avoiding Jimmy’s wing, and leaning back to drop on Mumbo’s stomach, kicking all the air out of him. “Listen, we don’t judge anyone in this group, you don’t have to worry! But, I mean, of all people picking a married man is kinda–”

Mumbo puts his palm on Martyn’s mouth, shutting him up. “Shhh, just– just be quiet for a second, can you?” The Vampire asks, lifting himself up on one elbow, and looking down at Martyn, who blinks up at him innocently, followed by a muffled–

“OH MY GOD,” Mumbo cracks up, laughing, as he takes his hand off Martyn’s mouth, making the Siren giggle even more.

“This turned weirdly erotic too fast,” Joel mutters, immediately looking away. 

“Gods forbid someone wants to sleep, why am I being forced to wake up to moaning, can we chill for a bit?” Apo groans, finally sitting up while blinking rapidly, her hair a mess, as she yawns, rubbing her eyes. 

Jimmy’s problem seems to be forgotten. 

Thank the Dragon, the Canary thinks to himself, slowly uncurling and sitting up properly with a wince. Yep yep, ow, tender feet. Yikes. Jimmy sighs lightly, chewing on the inside of his cheek and debating the merits of sneaking to the bathroom to rinse his wounds. There’s still bandages in there, right..?

“You two need to get a room,” Scar grumbles lightheartedly, stretching his arms over his head with a yawn.

“Love ya,” Grian chirps, still half asleep and unmoving, basically faceplanted on his mat.

“Oh we’re all adults here, relax,” Acho snorts.

“Doesn’t mean I need to enjoy men moaning,” Apo grumbles, as she bumps her fist into the air. “Women!”

“Gods, we really need to find you a girlfriend,” Owen snorts, slowly standing up from the mat. 

“Women!” Joel calls back to Apo, bumping his own fist. 

“You’re a man, it doesn’t count.”

“I– What??”

“Burn the cishet at the stake!” Martyn exclaims, dropping on one knee and pointing at Joel, while pretending as if he’s holding a torch in another. 

“WHAT?!”

“Nooo, we gotta keep our pet cishet!” Scar declares dramatically, waving his arms sporadically. 

“WHAT THE HELL?!”

“This is incredibly entertaining,” Acho snickers.

“The point of entertainment is to let it play without commentary,” Owen stage-whispers, an amused grin on their own face.

“Ah, yes, of course.”

Jimmy giggles lightly, managing to lift himself onto his feet and successfully bite back a hiss– a small whimper still escapes, but it’s small it’s fine– before hobbling to the bathroom. Gods, traveling is not gonna be fun for a while.. Ow…

~

It takes at least thirty more minutes for them to finally stand up and pack up the rest of their things, mats included, ready to go. The sun is slowly setting, the moon already visible in the sky, as they slowly gather outside in front of the door. Mumbo notices the weird glances Grian is sending toward the roof, and sighs heavily, putting a hand on his shoulder. He understands what Grian feels at this moment, sad that most of the others don’t. 

“Okay so, I checked over everything again, just in case, I think we are ready to leave,” Owen declares, coming out of their little cabin, and closing the door behind him. He stands there for a second, taking a step back to have a better look at the house. “Ah, feels weird, doesn’t it?”

“A little bit, yeah,” Apo agrees with a hum, the bag over her shoulder. “Bye-bye the comfort of an actual roof above your head.”

“We were suffocating,” Joel says with a snort, elbowing the Demon. 

“Yeah, but at least we didn’t have to sleep outside in the rain or snow, or any cold weather actually,” Apo argues back, poking the Panda’s cheek. 

“Well, everything good comes to an end,” Owen mutters bitterly, mostly to himself, but Acho immediately pops up by his side.

“Dude.. stop that.”

“Sorry, sorry!”

“There are perks to being on the move at least,” Jimmy hums, already stretching his wings. “Namely, trees. Guys, we can sleep in trees.”

“That’s a you, Grian, and Owen thing, Tim,” Martyn snorts. “Avians and altitude, not really the greatest comfort for us ground folk.”

“I think everyone should be able to appreciate a good tree sleep actually!”

“I mean sleeping in branches is at least a little safer than scattering on the ground,” Mumbo admits, sending a sheepish grin Martyn’s way.

“Iiiis it though?” The Siren counters with a skeptical squint.

“Anyway!” Owen grabs their attention again with a clap of her hands. “Can anyone think of anything at all they’d like to do, any loose ends to wrap up here before we leave? I’d rather us not have to double back…”

“You sound like a mum wrangling her kids on a road trip,” Grian murmurs with a snicker, putting his hands up in surrender when it earns him an unimpressed side eye. “Kidding! Teasing! Carry on!”

“I’m pretty sure we are done, yeah?” Martyn asks, looking around at the others. He catches the glance of Mumbo, whose eyes seem to be glued to their little hut again, a frown on their face. 

“Yeah… I think we did everything we wanted to,” the Vampire hums, turning back to the Siren. “You talked with the farmer family, right?” Martyn gives a short nod.

“Goodbyes have been said, now we leave,” Joel declares, as he turns around and starts walking toward the gate, making Jimmy by his side scoff and follow him.  

“Great,” Owen mutters, the others by her side chuckling, and then follows them with a sigh. “Off we go then.”

“We need to distance ourselves from this village as much as possible before we can rest, so the sooner we leave and the faster we walk, the faster we can find a place to settle down,” Grian adds, trailing next to Owen behind the group. 

The group dissolves into random chatter, as they get closer to the gate of the village, ready to leave. Then there’s a voice right behind them, followed by quick footsteps against the stone pathway. 

“Aye! Canary!” Cordelia calls out, approaching impressively quickly with a look of fierce determination on her face.

“Ah- Cordelia?” Jimmy questions, brushing past the others to meet the woman halfway. “What’s-?”

“Ya left so fast I nearly forgot,” she grunts, grabbing Jimmy’s hand the moment he’s in reach. She digs something out of her pocket, turns the Canary’s palm up, and presses said something into his hand. “Here. Yer takin’ this with ya.”

“A-” Jimmy chokes, staring wide-eyed at the handheld device. “Cordelia, you.. A communicator?”

“It has my number in it already,” the human declares, crossing her arms and practically glaring up at her student. “You are to call me when you get into trouble, y’hear? You don’t go longer than a month without a call or you will be sorry, young man!”

“I..” Jimmy whispers, eyes misty. “This is.. Cordelia this is too much, how much did you-?”

“Don’t you worry ‘bout that none,” Cordelia grumbles, jabbing a finger at Jimmy’s chest. Then she softens, just the slightest bit. “I ain’t ever gonna have the time to teach ya everythin’ I know, but I’ve taught ya a start. You’re gonna keep learnin’ as ya go, and I’m gonna hear ‘bout yer progress once a month at most, capiche?”

Jimmy sniffs, holding the black boxy object to his chest, as if cradling something sacred. “Y-yes ma’am. Capiche.”

“Good,” Cordelia grunts with a firm nod, patting his shoulder. “You go on now, kid. Take care o’ that family ya got, and take care of yerself. I’ll know if ya don’t.”

“Haha.. ‘course you will,” Jimmy giggles, wiping at his teary eyes. “I won’t let you down. Thank you.”

“Bah!” Cordelia scoffs, waving him off. “Don’t go gettin’ sentimental on me! Go, shoo, yer folks’re waitin’.”

Jimmy just laughs, pocketing his new communicator and pulling his mentor into a hug. She grumbles and rolls her eyes, but a smile twitches onto her face as she pats his back, enduring the embrace. It doesn’t last long, and soon Jimmy is pulling away and turning back, waving over his shoulder.

“..Sorry,” he huffs as he returns to the others, rubbing at his eyes. He’s grinning. “Ready to go now.”

Owen sends a glance behind Jimmy, noticing the woman still standing there and waving at them with the matching grin on her face. He chuckles, waving back, as others also pick it up, their little way of saying goodbye.

“Good,” Grian hums, putting his hand down. “Let’s go, we have a long way ahead.”

“BYEEEEEEEE!” Apo yells at Cordelia, waving both of her hands, while Acho grabs her hood and starts dragging her away. The others follow with giggles as they pass through the gate, leaving the grounds of the village. 

It’s strange, slightly uncomfortable, leaving after such a long time, but they don’t really have a choice, and so they move. Maybe this.. run of theirs will take much less time than they think, and they will have an opportunity to come back one day without the fear of being hunted. But for now, it was a goodbye for an unknown future.

Notes:

Translations -

Oh, you sweet oblivious thing.

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Series this work belongs to:

• Part 2 of The Shadowed Exodus Archives