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"It's okay, it's okay, I've got you."
How long has he been crying for? How long has he been screaming? How long had he been alone for?
Is he still alone?
"Hey, hey, Scar, look at me, look at me, it's okay, I've got you."
It hurts. His heart feels as though it's splitting in two, shattering into a thousand pieces. He is so alone. He has always been so alone. He isn't filled with loss, because that would mean he had something to lose. No. He's always been alone.
It hurts.
"Scar, please, you're scaring me."
Loneliness is not a new thing for him. It has been with him his whole life. It follows him closely, clinging to his shoulders in a way that cannot be shaken. He is alone and he always will be. No one cares. No one will ever care. He will never make the connections he wants. He will never grow old alongside another person. He will never be someone's most important person. No matter how much he wants it, how much he craves the feeling of being wanted, being loved, he will never get it in the way he needs.
That's how it's always been. That's how it will always be.
Alone. Forever.
He is eight years old. His parents have just brought home a new baby brother. This is the fourth child they have had since him. Every two years, his mom goes to the hospital and comes back with a child. There has never been room for him, not since he was two years old.
He is in third grade. He's young for his class, but desperate for the approval of his peers, teachers, and parents. No matter how hard he tries, he never stands out enough for them. At least, not in a way that they like. He gets ignored unless he speaks out, and he gets in trouble nearly daily for "attention seeking".
His little siblings constantly demand attention, they're young, they need it. He doesn't need it. He needs to be quiet. Needs to take care of himself and the siblings closer to his age. Needs to be independent. If he wants attention, he has to work for it. He needs to get more than straight As, he needs to be better than everyone. His state test scores come back and he is reading at a college level and solving math equations at an 8th grade level. His parents praise him for what feels like the first time in years.
He chases the high. How can he not? It's the only way his parents will tell him they're proud of him. He has to be the best. He has to be better than the best. He has to be exceptional. But as the years go by, progression becomes impossible. He isn't failing, but he isn't improving. His test scores stay at college level and 8th grade until he hits middle school and they drop. Reading becomes a nightmare. Math is a tangle of letters and symbols that he can't possibly understand. He's just like all of his peers.
His parents start asking him why he can't do what he used to as a kid. He is, it just isn't as impressive as when he was eight years old. They are paying attention to him now, in fleeting moments, but the praise is gone. He has to get better.
Years pass. His older brother excels, more so than he is, and his parents start asking why he can't do what his brother can. He is trying. He is trying so hard. He compares himself every single day in the mirror.
He isn't sleeping right anymore. He can't focus. He can't think. His grades are still all As, but he gets worse and worse with every passing day. His anxiety spikes, exhaustion clings to his frame, he has three friends but two of them are dating each other and when it all inevitably falls apart, he will be forced to pick a side. He picks the side with more people on it. He can't afford to lose two of his three people.
It still feels like the wrong choice.
His parents have moved on. His older brother has always been more impressive. Their lack of attention hurts. It sits deep in his chest, throbbing in his heart, and he cries himself to sleep at least twice a week.
When he finds out he isn't a girl, he doesn't tell them. He knows how they'll react. Negative attention is worse than no attention at all. They don't need another son anyway, they already have four.
When he finds out that not everyone experiences agonizing pain in their limbs that makes it nearly impossible to get out of bed, he keeps it to himself. It would just be an excuse to his family anyway. It would be considered laziness, not a condition. He is fine.
His brother makes it into the prestigious college that his parents went to and met at. His brother is celebrated. A party is thrown. Everyone is delighted.
When he gets rejected from the same school a year later, everyone is silent.
He goes to the lesser university only a short drive away. It has a reputation. The school for rejects. His parents help him move in, say they're proud, but it's not the same as the celebration that was thrown for his brother. He'll never get that.
And then the news comes. The end of the world. A plague that turns people into zombies. The world is shut down, quarantines are put into place, but none of it works. And soon Scar is the only one left.
He is so utterly alone.
"I can't break him out of it, he's stuck."
He is so alone.
"Scar, please, look at me. Just look."
He opens his eyes. There is nothing there.
"Hey, hey, there you are, there's those eyes."
He can't see. But he can feel a pair of arms wrapped around him. Holding him close. Keeping him safe.
Is he...is he still alone?
"Breathe, Scar. Can you hear me?"
Slowly, shakily, Scar nods.
"Can you see?"
Scar shakes his head.
"Okay, that's okay. We're going to breathe now, alright? Can you breathe with me?"
There's someone with him. He isn't...he isn't alone. There's someone here with him.
"Okay, here we go. Breathe with me. In, two, three, four...and out, two three four."
Scar tries to breathe. It hurts, not as much as his heart aches, but it stings his throat as he drags oxygen into his lungs.
"Good, good. You're doing great, Scar. You're doing so, so good."
The praise almost hurts more. Tears spill from his unseeing eyes as he breathes in again, and again, and again, hoping and praying that they will give him more.
"Good, Scar, good. That's it. Keep breathing. You're doing amazing."
His sight trickles back a little bit at a time, starting from a point in the center of his vision and creeping out towards his peripherals. His head is resting against something soft, and red takes up half of his vision. It takes him several seconds to realize that it's Grian's sweater. Grian is holding him.
There is a hand in his hair, gently carding through it, and another hand rests on his stomach, the arm wrapping around his waist. He is being held.
"You coming back to me, Scar?"
Scar stays still, his breathing rasping in and out in the pattern spelled out for him, even as the counting has stopped. He is scared to move. Scared to break this moment. It is more attention than he has received in years.
But that wasn't exactly true.
He had been pulled out of his world by Cub, and then world-hopped with him to Hermitcraft. He met dozens of people, all who welcomed him it. For the first time in many, many years, he had friends.
He has Grian.
He isn't alone anymore.
He lets out a quiet whine, squeezing his eyes shut and burrowing deeper into Grian's sweater.
"Oh, Scar." Grian says, but it isn't disappointed. It's sad, sympathetic, but most of all, filled with love. "It's okay. I'm gonna get X to tp us to the zoo. We're gonna go take a nap, alright?"
Shakily, Scar nods. As long as Grian's arm stays wrapped around him, as long as he is not alone, he will be fine. He just needs Grian to stay.
As if reading his thoughts, Grian speaks up again. "It's okay. I'll be with you for as long as you need. Just keep breathing."
Grian doesn't let go of him. Even as the world disappears around them and reappears a split second later, Grian's arms are still wrapped around him. His shoes are gently nudged off of his feet, clattering to the floor, and Grian lays back, taking him with. A blanket is draped over them both, and the entire time, Grian stays.
"You did good, Scar." Grian murmurs softly into his hair, even as his system begins to shut down after the overwhelm of his panic. "I'm so proud of you."
It is the phrase he has waited for his whole life, imbued with meaning and love.