Scraps of us

by Rudidodi

Summary:

“Hey, Joel, there's a package out here.” Jimmy called.

“Who’s it from?” Joel asked, laying underneath Jimmy's beat-up car, busy patching up an oil leak.

“Uh… it doesn’t say.” He replied. Joel got out from under the sorely loved Toyota and crossed the length of his garage to stand beside Jimmy.

“That’s weird,” Joel grunted. The package was heavy, and wrapped in plain brown paper that rubbed against Joel's oil-stained hands. Without a second thought, he tore back the packaging. His eyes fell onto an old, worn book with a purple gash on the front.

“That’s kind of creepy,” Jimmy chuckled.

The gash twitched upon the leather cover and slowly blinked open, a purple pupil boring into Joel.

Notes:

Hiiii! I want to preface this by saying that you probably don’t have to be too familiar with Malevolent or cautious of spoilers to read this. I don’t plan on including any characters from the podcast, at least, definitely not Arthur, John, or Kayne. Any and all Lovecraftian references in this are either a) completely accidental, or b) made up and pulled out of my ass. Malevolent is the only lovecraftian media I have ever/plan on consuming. This will probably contain Malevolent spoilers, but as to how big of a spoiler or the context it will be in, I don’t know yet. I’ll put a warning at the top of any chapters that could contain a spoiler. The watcher lore in here is also not totally accurate to Martin's main lore.

Chapter 1: The Voice

Joel liked to think he was a tough guy. Sturdy and capable, thats who he was. He could take a hit, or several, really, and still walk away grinning like a madman.

The headache that was thrumming through his skull was far more than several hits.

He staggered and felt himself fall to the ground against the front of something large, and cold. Rusted metal pinched the exposed skin of his back where the stretched collar of his tank top drooped.

He groaned and rubbed his eyes. The power must have gone out or something, because he couldn't even see his hands in front of his face!

He felt behind him and braced himself against the bumper of a car. Jimmy’s car, he remembered. There had been another nasty oil leak, and Jimmy was paying Joel to fix the poor thing for what must’ve been the third time this month.

He grunted as he pushed himself up and pressed the heel of his palm to his forehead.

“Fuuuuck…” he grumbled.

“Are you done yet?”

Joel jumped. He backed away, towards where he knew his workbench must have been. “Who’s there? Jimmy, did you turn the lights off?”

The stranger sighed like a tired professor who's been teaching the same student the same material for far too long. “No, not Jimmy. Jimmy isn’t here right now. Calm down and let me—“

”Who are you?!” Joel demanded again. He grabbed a wrench off his workbench and waved it around him. He was surprised when he didn’t hit anyone at all. The voice sounded so close to him.

“Calm down, and maybe I can—“

“No, I won’t calm down! You’re a stranger in my garage, I can’t see a thing, and you had to have done something to Jimmy, because he’s not responding.” He whirled around to his left, where he thought the voice had been, then to his right when the left held not a soul. He felt the hair on the back of his neck stand to attention, and he spun around to wave the wrench in the open space above the desk. Again, no one was there.

Joel was met with silence.

“H-Hello?” He turned to face what he thought was the garage door. Hadn’t he left that open? It shouldn’t be this dark, even if the power was out, if the door was open.

”I’m still here. Are you going to keep interrupting me?” The voice came again and Joel couldn't pinpoint from where it was coming.

He swallowed. “Fine.”

“I am your newest and only friend. Congratulations! And you’re going to do as I say for the time being.”

“Yeah? What does that even mean? Why would I do anything for you?” Joel huffed and brandished his wrench in an increasingly sweaty grip.

“Because I’ve done something to Jimmy, just like you said. And until you do what I want, his fate is in my hands.”

Joel let out a shaky breath.

“Put the wrench down and step forward.”

“I can’t see where I’m going.” Joel resisted.

“Put the wrench down and walk forward. I’ll tell you when to stop.”

Joel slowly relented, and dropped the wrench down onto the desk to his right. He took a few tentative steps forward. “Why am I doing this? Can’t you turn on the light?”

”Light wouldn’t make any difference, I’m afraid. I’m looking for something you dropped.”

”What do you mean—“

“Stop.” The voice instructed. “Bend down, it's by your left foot.”

Joel sighed and bent down and felt along the cracked, cold concrete until he found the thing. It was a book. A large, heavy book with rough leather binding and lines carved into the front. Joel traced the indents with his finger.

“Good. Now, turn to your right and walk.”

“You’re awfully demanding,” Joel muttered.

“I have a hostage. I could really be asking for more, I bet.”

Joel set his jaw And walked to the right until the voice told him to stop. He set the book on the desk.

“Good! Now, open it, and turn the pages until I say.”

”Where are you? How can you see anything when it's this dark?” Joel looked to his left again, and still, nothing but darkness. He frowned and started turning pages.

“There, stop. No—go back one. Yes, stop.” The voice ignored his questions.

”What are you doing?”

“I’m reading. It’s a book. Meant to be read.” The voice scoffed. “Now shut up.”

”Hey, I—“

”SHUT UP.”

Joel shut up.

The voice began mumbling to himself. It was almost musical, the way he read out the words on the page that Joel himself couldn’t see. The whispering reminded him strangely of a bird song.

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit!” The voice muttered.

”What is it? What did it tell you?” Joel asked.

“Nothing useful. Stupid, rotten book…” The stranger huffed.

Joel frowned and stepped back. “Okay, I got you the book. Where’s Jimmy?”

”What are you doing? Stop.”

Joel felt along the wall of the garage. The button to the garage door should be here somewhere on this side, but if the stranger knew what he was doing, why wasn’t he stopping him?

”I said, stop! You don’t know what you’re doing. This won’t get either of us anywhere.” The voice insisted. It followed Joel, hovering around him like a fly that wouldn’t be shooed away.

“I’ll see about that for myself.” Joel frowned. At last, his hand brushed against the button.

He pressed the button, and the garage door started to close.

“What? That can’t be right,” Joel shook his head and stepped closer to where the door should be. He stuck his hand out past the wall, and sure enough, the garage door was open. It was open to a dark void that should have been a yard, a street, and a dollar store on the other side. He gasped and drew his arm back when he felt that heavy metal slide down its frame and push his arm away.

“I told you, but you didn’t listen.” The voice scolded.

Joel blinked, then blinked again. He felt his face and his eyes for something that would explain what was happening. “No. No, no, no, this can’t be happening.”

”Just calm down, friend. Take a breath.”

”Have I gone blind?!” Joel exclaimed. He stepped to the side. He had to get inside his house. His phone was on the kitchen table, he could call the police, the ambulance, someone—

He tripped. His foot got caught on something heavy, and Joel fell against the now-closed garage door.

Joel felt along the floor for something to tell him what way he was facing. This couldn’t be happening, this wasn’t happening, this was all some weird dream, or maybe he’d gotten oil in his eyes, or—

His hand brushed against something smooth, soft, and warm. He grabbed it and felt along until he found fabric, and further up still until his hands met gentle curly hair.

”Jimmy? Jimmy, answer me, are you okay? Hey—hey, man, what did you do to Jimmy?!”

The voice was silent.

Joel pulled himself closer to Jimmy and felt his knees grow damp. The smell of iron penetrated the thick stench of gasoline.

”Oh my god. Oh my god, you killed him!” Joel felt his lungs seize up in his chest as he grabbed onto Jimmy's shirt and pulled him closer, shaking him. “Jimmy, come on, wake up, Jimmy!”

”He won’t wake up, Joel. He’s dead.”

“Who the hell are you?! How do you know my name?!” He demanded.

“My name is Grian. And for the time being, I own your eyes.”

Chapter 2: The Book

Notes:

I totally forgot to mention this in the first chapter notes, but me writing a Gribeans fic is completely inspired by @napbogar on TikTok! They make amazing life series art, and it's the reason why I started to ship them, lol. Go check them out! I’m going to a summer camp after I publish this so chapter three won’t be out until after next week. Sorry!

also my italics aren’t translating from google docs over to AO3 for some reason, so… :’)

Joel pushed away from the limp body of Jimmy, crawling backwards until his back slammed against the wall. He gasped and grasped the collar of his tank top, his lungs shuddering and seizing like a car in the dead of winter. His ears rang and his body grew heavy, weighing him down to *this*—this *moment*, this corpse, this *nightmare*. Grians voice sat heavy on his chest, holding his lungs captive so he could not breathe.

“Joel? Joel, can you hear me?” Grian asked through the incessant screaming of Joel's panicking mind. “I need you to calm down. Panicking won’t do either of us any good.”

”No. No, no, no, no, no! You don’t get to—you can’t just—“ Joel stammered. Jimmy was *dead*, Joel had a voice inside his head—he’d gone insane or something, hadn’t he? Had he lost it and smashed Jimmy’s head in? Was he going to be put away in some empty white room?

”Joel! Will you stop spiraling and *listen* to me?” Grian demanded, breaking through the whirlwind of Joel’s thoughts. Joel's overexerted breath stuttered and he covered his mouth.

“Okay, good. Just… take a deep breath, alright? Can you do that for me?” Grian soothed. His voice grew soft, like he was consoling a child. It made Joel bristle. He was *not* a child. He tried to slow his breathing, tried to lasso his fleeting heartbeat.

Eventually, he’d gotten a handle on himself. He could still feel himself shaking, but he wasn’t whimpering behind his hand anymore.

“There. Easy enough, right?” Grian chirped.

“Explain. Now. Whatever’s going on—am I insane? Be honest with me, man, are you a figment of my imagination? Is that why you know my name?” Joel croaked.

Grian sighed, like he was holding in a laugh. “No, you’re not insane, Joel. I could try to explain what little I know, but… I’m nearly as lost as you are, I’m afraid. I know your name because I doubt that man on the floor would scream his own name before dying.”

Joel clenched his fists, his nails digging crescents into the blisters on his palms. “Jimmy. Why did you kill Jimmy?”

Grian hummed. “He was too close.”

”What does that mean?”

”When you opened my book. He was standing too close.”

“What, so—so you killed him?!” Joel snapped. “And that book—what do you mean it’s ‘you’re’ book?”

Grian cleared his throat, “*Yes*, it was my book. I was trapped inside it. My… essence, my being, my ‘soul’, whatever. I was trapped inside the book, and you opened it. I was released… only to be immediately trapped inside *you*.”

“Trapped *inside* me. Like, you’ve possessed me? Are you a ghost, are you dead?” Joel frowned incredulously.

Grian groaned, “No, I’m not dead! And I haven’t *possessed* you, either. That would imply that I have control of your body. The only thing I control are your eyes.”

Joel swallowed and tried to wrap his head around that. Some guys soul had been trapped inside a book, and was now trapped inside *him*.

“So… why did Jimmy have to die?” He asked. It felt so weird to say that, to acknowledge that his best friend was… dead.

”He was standing so close to you, I felt myself begin to… split. I was being pulled apart, towards both of your souls. It was incredibly painful and killing Jimmy was… a reaction rather than intent, if that comforts you at all.” Grian explained

“It doesn’t.”

”Didn’t think it would.”

Joel grunted and stood up, walking forwards with his hand along the wall. The door to his house was somewhere along the way.

”Looking for the door?” Grian guessed.

“Yeah, should be—here.” Joel nodded and felt around for the handle. He stepped inside, tripping over the ledge.

“You’re going to leave Jimmy dead in the garage?” Grian scoffed. Joel reached out to his left where he knew the kitchen counter would be. His hand brushed against the smooth, cold countertop and he grabbed his phone.

“No, I’m going to call the police.”

“Now, hold on a minute. What are you going to say? You opened a book and it put a voice inside your head that killed Jimmy? How does that sound, Joel?” Grian berated. Joel could *hear* the eye roll in his voice. Joel stopped, phone in hand.

“Okay, fine. What do you suggest we do, then? What’s our plan?” Joel scoffed and set his phone back down.

“Figure out how to seperate us.” Grian replied.

“Okay, yes, that’s somewhere on our to-do list, but we can’t buy milk without a car to drive to the store.”

“What?”

“Never mind. Who were you, before the book?” Joel pressed his hand against his temple. Grian was quiet for a moment.

“Well?” Joel pushed.

“I… don’t remember,” Grian answered.

”Now, how can that be?” Joel barked. “You kill my best friend and take over my *mind*, and you don’t even know who you are to be doing that? I call bullshit!”

”I’m serious! I don’t—it’s all a… void. A dark, black, gaping hole in my mind, okay? I was trapped inside the book, and now I’m trapped inside *you*. That’s it.”

“Really.” Joel skeptically nodded and paced blindly along the length of his counter, his hand on the smooth surface to guide him. “That’s *all*? Nothing else? Nothing glaringly important?”

“I… well, I think I was… I don’t know. I have a… feeling. A fear, really.” Grian tentatively mentioned.

“Which would be…?”

”I feel like I was being hunted.”

Joel stopped pacing. ”Hunted,” he repeated. Grian hummed in confirmation.

He dragged a hand down his face. “Are you *still* being hunted?”

”I don’t know, but I’d think so. If whoever was hunting me put me in that book, and now I’m *out* of the book…”

“You’re assuming they know you’re out of the book,” Joel interjected.

“I think we can assume a lot of things right now if we want to keep our wits about us. Just like we assume I’m not your subconscious and you’re not crazy.” Grian retorted.

“Fair enough.” Joel agreed. He dragged a hand down his face and swallowed the lump in his throat. He had to think. Jimmy was—no, not Jimmy. That was just a corpse now. He had a corpse in his garage and he was being hunted down. The garage had been open when—when he’d open the book, so someone could’ve seen the murder.

“We have to leave,” Joel decided.

“Alright, but where?” Grian asked. Joel thought for a while. He didn’t have anywhere to go, did he? The only place that came to mind was his father-in-law… but he reckoned he’d quicker be turned away at the door than helped by the man.

“I don’t—“ a knock on the door interrupted him. Joel reached out to feel for the wall.

”To your right, careful, you’ve left clothes on the floor.” Grian guided. Joel felt his way through the dark of his vision, walking slowly down the hall towards the front of his house.

“Excuse me, Mr. B? We heard some racket from down here… is everything alright?” A woman called from the front porch.

“A little farther. Just—there.” Grian whispered. “Now, I have to look out the peephole. A little to the left—stop, I can see.”

Joel waited. The dooming cold of the door pressed against his stomach. Had this woman seen what happened to Jimmy? She’d heard it, at least. Would she report him to the police?

”We have to go out. She knows we’re home, she’ll—she’ll know something happened if we ignore her.” Joel muttered.

Grian huffed, “You’re right. She’s alone, by the way. An older woman.”

Joel took a reach and felt for the handle. He opened the door.

“Hello, Mr. B! I heard some shouting while I was in my garden, are you alright?” The woman asked. Joel recognized the kindly, private cadence of her voice as Ms. Martha, the widow from two houses down.

“Yeah, yeah, uh—just fine, just fine. Just—working on a car, dropped some… equipment.” Joel fabricated, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Real smooth,” Grian muttered.

”Are you sure? Dear, is that blood on your knees? Are you okay?” Ms. Martha fussed. Joel flinched as he felt her warm, thin hand touch his shoulder.

“Oh, right! Uh, no, no, its just… paint. My buddy, Jimmy, he… I’m giving his car a new paint job.” Joel fumbled.

“I thought his car was that dreadfully yellow one! I swear, that hunk of bolts is older than me.” She chuckled, apparently satisfied with Joel's tragic excuse of a lie.

“He, uh… wanted a change, I guess.”

“Oh, well, alright. I guess I won’t keep you any longer. Have a good day!” The woman chirped and Joel heard her sandals fall against the concrete steps that led up to his door.

“Yeah, yeah, you too..”

Joel cleared his throat and felt behind him until he could open the door, stepping back inside. He shut it and fumbled around till he could twist the lock.

“We’re going to end up in jail if that's your best lie,” Grian commented.

“She believed it, didn’t she?” Joel scoffed.

“Barely! She still looked… skeptical when she left.”

Joel groaned, “You need to tell me these things! If we’re going to be stuck together and you have my eyes, you need to *be* my eyes, alright?”

“I didn’t want her to hear me!”

“I doubt she can. If you control my eyes and share my body, then… maybe we share a mind, too.” Joel speculated.

“And you’re suddenly an expert on mind-sharing.”

”It’s just an idea!”

”We;ll, how about more ideas on how to get us out of this mess!”

Grian demanded. Joel leaned back against the door and sank down to his knees. What was he supposed to do? Pack a bag and hitchhike like he did in highschool? Where would he even go?

he dragged a hand down his face. “Do you know where your book was last?” It was a shot in the dark, but the dark was all Joel could see right now.

“Oh! Yes, it was at a library. Some kid started to open it, and I saw out just for a moment before he closed it again. I was on a little cart next to the checkout desk.” Grian recounted.

Joel snapped his fingers, “Brilliant! There’s a library not too far from here. We could walk there, I bet!”

“Ah-ha! Maybe this won’t be a disaster after all, then!”