Chapter Text
Goodness, did Scar love his job, but it was times like these that made him wonder how exactly he started as an architecture major and ended up as a kindergarten teacher.
He massaged his temples and sighed helplessly at the stubborn little kid in front of him, who seemingly was not able to sleep no matter what Scar did to make him comfortable. Jimmy Solidarity was not a difficult child otherwise: a little clumsy, sure, prone to breaking things, but Scar was too! And Jimmy tried his best to fix his mistakes, which made him an eager learner. Seeing how he was the only avian hybrid in the classroom, Scar had been a little worried about bullying at the beginning of the year, but Jimmy was friends with mostly everyone, especially other hybrids like Scott.
But Scar had quite literally no explanation as to why Jimmy simply wasn’t able to nap like the rest of his friends during naptime. He’d gently suggested just keeping his eyes closed even if he wasn’t sleeping, and brought in his own very special blanket for comfort, but nothing worked. And then Jimmy was just cranky and sulked for the rest of the day. “Oh my goodness gracious,” he murmured, leaning heavily on his cane, thoughts slowing to a sluggish drip. He should’ve just brought his wheelchair today instead of pushing it with his cane.
The child in question fluffed up his pastel yellow wings and drew Scar’s blanket over his shoulders, pouting.
Wait. Scar’s eyes flew open.
Wings!
Grian had told him that avian society had a bunch of rules about seemingly random things, so maybe there was something about sleep as well? Gosh, Scar needed to call him. Scar turned to Jimmy again.
“Alrighty then, buddy, did you bring a snack? You can have it early to keep your energy up and at break I’ll give you a cookie.” Scar rubbed his hands conspiratorially.
“Really?!” Jimmy’s eyes lit up, all tiredness forgotten immediately. He discarded the blanket and stretched out his wings from where they were folded.
Tracking the movement, Scar replied absentmindedly, already rehearsing what he would say to Grian. “Just one time, mister, okay? Just for today!”
Jimmy started flapping his hands in excitement. “Okay, okay, okay!! Can I split it with Scott?”
Attention snapping back to the present, Scar smiled broadly at the little kid. “Awh, buddy, but we don’t want anyone else to get sad that you didn’t split it with them. Tell you what?”
“What??” Jimmy questioned, only slightly perturbed.
“I’ll talk to my friend, and he’ll bake some delectable cookies for everyone! Go get your snack, Jimmy, I’ll start waking everyone up.”
Jimmy bounded up, and for a second he looked just Grian. Scar felt a little bit lightheaded from how happy the connection made him. Really, the similarities did not end at being avian hybrids. Both had a laugh like a witch’s cackle, smiles just a little too sharp and a penchant for trouble. His smile faltered a bit as he thought of his best friend. He missed Grian so much that it hurt, sometimes, a dull ache like a bruise that never healed. Nearby, Jimmy nearly tripped and he called out a “Careful, careful!” to the little kid.
He knew Grian hated children in general, but Scar felt Jimmy could change his opinion.
Scar was soon sitting on a chair thankfully, and in a circle with a gaggle of just-awake children awaiting him. “Hi everyone! Good morning!” he chirped excitedly. He recieved a chorus of groggy greetings in return. Scar knew exactly what would do the trick.
“Yesterday, we learned all of the alphabet, so let’s go around in a circle to see if we remember it or not. I’ll start,” Scar screwed up his face in mock concentration. He tapped his brain and very seriously stated, “The first letter of the alphabet… it’s K!”
His children started giggling. “No, no, uhh, it’s Q! Or J, or M!” Scott raised his hand while laughing. Scar smiled goodnaturedly and called on him.
“Mr. Scar, the first letter’s A!!”
Scar made an exaggerated shocked face. “Scott, you’re right! Let’s go around, starting with Scott!”
The children managed to get almost all of the alphabet right, and they all got a high five for it.
They were just wrapping up when Lizzie started waving her hand around excitedly, the gills on her face no longer shyly hiding her. There was definitely a learning curve with water-based hybrid children, but Scar had panicked and done maybe too much research, and now everyone in his class was well hydrated. Scar was really happy to see that the axolotl hybrid was engaging in class more; at the beginning of the year, she was extremely reserved, but likely through the influence of her new best friend Joel, Lizzie had quickly become a bit of a chatterbox.
“Hi, hi, Lizzie! What can I do for you?”
“Mr. Scar, I have a magic trick! Can I do it on you and show everyone?”
Scar didn’t even think about it. “Yeah, we have five minutes to go!” He raised his voice a bit. “Eeeeeveryone! Lizzie has a magic trick, gather one, gather all!”
The children, who had just finished packing up, settled on the floor with their backpacks, looked up at Scar and Lizzie with a knowing sparkle in their eyes and mischievous smiles. Well, Scar was best friends with Chief Mischief Grian himself, and Scar knew a scheme when he saw one. Whatever this was, it was orchestrated. Interesting.
“I have one question, Mr. Scar,” Lizzie said in a very business-like tone. “What is your favorite letter of the alphabet?”
Scar laughed nervously, wondering where this was going. “Good question, Lizzie, I like all of them!” Hearing their immediate groans, he quickly amended his answer. “Okay, if I had to pick a favorite, hmmm… Probably G?”
A variety of oooohs sounded, and Scar felt the back of his neck prickle. “Why? What’s the magic trick?”
Lizzie laughed and exclaimed, “My mom said that the trick tells you the first letter of your soulmate!”
Scar’s brain short-circuited. It was just a little kindergartener trick, and he was sure it was prompted by when he told the kids that your soulmate doesn’t have to be romantic, but still. Still he short-circuited as his kids left the classroom to their buses, chattering and smiling. Still, unbidden, his mind went to red sweaters and vibrant wings and a smile that was a little too sharp.
Scar laughed at himself. God, how’d he get where he was now, wondering if he was in love with his best friend or not? This wasn’t worth it. Scar should go home to his cats. His friend Mumbo, who taught math to Grade 1, tapped on the open door. “Hiya, mate, need a ride?”
Scar nodded gratefully.
When Scar finally got home, Katy Bee and Mr. Finnegan were waiting right at his doorstep. Scar wearily sat himself down on his wheelchair, and almost immediately the kitties leapt into his lap, excited to say hello. Their purrs were rhythmic and Scar felt tension in his shoulders that he didn’t even realise he had slowly dissipating.
“Hi, kitty cats. No Jellie today?” he hummed in their direction, not really expecting Mr. Fin to snuggle into his collarbone.
His friend Mumbo worked a lot with the undead, and he had come up with a special spell that let Jellie come and go as she pleased from kitty heaven as a ghost. Scar generally woke up with her in his face, and she stuck around to play with the new kitty cats, but otherwise she was off doing Jellie things. Scar loved all of his cats, and seeing Jellie still happy and well definitely soothed him.
Scar wheeled over to the kitchen, cats still in his lap. He was humming a song that he associated with Mumbo while he put the kettle on when he remembered that he had to call Grian. “Doo, doo, doo, Griaann-“ he sang while opening up his speed dial and clicked the call button.
Ring, ring. Ring, ring. Beep!
“Scar? Are you making tea?”
Grian’s voice was soft and tinny, with a bit of rasp in it, and hearing it made Scar start grinning like a fool. Lord knows he’d never live it down if it was a video call. Scar chuckled and put his phone on speaker so he could continue making his tea. “Sorry, did I wake you up, G? Can you hear the kettle?”
A yawn comically cut off Grian’s mic. “No, no, I was doomscrolling anyway. What kind of- what kind of tea are you making today, fella?”
Scar looked over at his jars of tea, generously donated to him by his British friends (cough, Grian, cough) who claimed that steeping in a saucer was the proper way to have tea. “I think today’s a poppy tea kinda day.”
“You okay, Scar?” Grian questioned immediately, and Scar could hear his concern over the telephone line. The avian let out a series of chirps, each sounding more worried than the last. The poppy tea worked as a kind of natural pain killer, and Scar reserved it for Bad Days, like today.
“Ehhhh,” he replied noncommittally, not wanting to worry his best friend. “Anyways. I need you to tell me about avian society again,” Scar deflected. The distraction worked, because Grian immediately trilled in surprise. “What specifically?”
The kettle was done boiling, so Scar poured out the hot water into a saucer with the tea leaves and started heating it on his stove. Turning his wheelchair towards his phone again, he asked Grian: “Is it normally difficult for avians to sleep?”
A cough sounded from his phone. “It depends, uh, on your nest I think?” Grian’s voice raised in pitch endearingly. Scar felt very silly all of a sudden. Mumbo had mentioned how Grian never let anyone into his nest.
“One of my kids, he’s avian and he can’t ever sleep during naptime. Should I- I mean, am I allowed to build him a nest?” Scar knew avians can be kind of cagey about personal things like nests and preening. It was special and only for your favorite people. He said as much to Grian just then.
Grian let out a thoughtful Grian noise. “You’re not flock, I don’t think. You should ask one of his flock members to make it with him.”
Scar moved the saucer away from the stove, turning it off with a click. He was straining the tea when he realised he had made two cups. (He wondered if he was flock to Grian. If Grian would drink his tea and pet his cats and read books with Scar.)
Scar hadn’t realised he was vocalising any of his thoughts until he asked in an altogether too vulnerable voice, “Come here? I made tea for you. Without- um. You know.” He immediately cleared his throat, regretting saying anything at all. Goodness.
There was a bit of awkward silence and shuffling about as Scar just looked. At the two cups of tea.
Grian laughed breathlessly, though there wasn’t any amusement in it, just maybe- anticipation? Embarassment? The man was hard to read, okay? “You- you made me a cuppa?”
Scar smiled despite himself, and hoped Grian could hear it in his voice, resting his elbows on his wheelchair and burying his face in his hands. “Yeah?” he said in a small voice.
Scar’s brain started flashing with the news that that wasn’t a very platonic thing to say to his best friend. Okay, damage control. Scar got this. “I want you.”
No! That was even worse!
“-to, uh, show me how I can help my kid with the. Nest. And things.” So eloquent, Scar, nice work. He gently hit his head with his hand repeatedly.
A beat passed. “I’ll fly there, yeah? Ask Mumbo for my landing gear. I’ll be there by first light tomorrow,” Grian declared.
Click! The call ended. Scar’s brain was filled with increasingly incredulous question marks. He grabbed a cup of tea and scrolled on his phone to his texts.
Scar: grain what
Scar: are yo uactually flying here
Grian: who is this grain character. lol
Grian: yeah
Grian: anything for you scar
Grian: omw :)
Scar resolutely ignored the way his heart flipped around in his chest and instead tapped on Mumbo’s profile to dm the mustachio man.
Scar: hi mum bo
Mumbo: hi mate :)
Scar: g said to ask you for his
Scar: the thing
Mumbo: the what?
Scar: bcs he’s fluing here
Mumbo: he’s WHAT
Scar: yeah me too
Mumbo: he’ll need his landing gear, i’ll drop it by your house rn
Scar: ok :D
Mumbo: omw!
Scar closed his phone, and scratched Mr. Fin behind the ears as he sipped his tea. Grian was, like, going to be here. Soon. He was actually going to be here, and Scar didn’t have to settle for his voice through speakers or his face through screens.
Scar leaned back into his wheelchair and giggled helplessly.