Chapter Text
and god i would never want to hurt him, but he's got hurt in his blood
and only i could know that dying could save him and he felt nothing but love
but i doubt you can reach me out here and i fear i’m closer to
i am closer to another shore
- Homeless by Aihvhia
[]
It was 2AM. Scar was having a panic attack.
He was on the bathroom floor, the harsh hum of fluorescent lights and the persistent drip of his leaky tap. The world was ending. The world was ending. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think, his mind was caught in like a rabbit running the same little doomed circles.
He had his phone out, sitting on the floor, ready to call for help. He didn't want to call anyone. There was only one person he wanted to call and they'd broken up over two years ago. Sure, they were still kinda friends... but it wasn't the same.
Scar needed so very badly in that moment for it to be the same. He didn't even care of they weren't romantic anymore, he needed his best friend that he lost two years ago.
In his contact list Grian was listed simply as 'G'. No contact photo. It was a grey screen with a single letter.
When he called, the tinny speakerphone echoed in the small space. Trapped, confined, enclosed. It rang three times. Four. Five--
The line connected. The universe opened its eyes. There was a shuffle, and a sleepy, "Scar?"
He last saw Grian a few weeks ago. They made awkward eye contact, exchanged pained smiles and offers to have coffee that neither of them would follow through with. Scar missed him, missed him, missed him.
They never told their friends what happened. Scar insisted. They claimed the break-up was mutual.
Grian really flourished afterwards. Got a new job, a new place with his new friend Mumbo, and managed to track down his sister Pearl again. Scar was really happy for him, even if the growth his ex had was entirely at his expense. It was fine, Scar had met Mumbo, he met Pearl, and they were awesome.
Cub was the only person who consistently challenged this new status quo. But being brothers to them meant something that humans could never comprehend, and lying to Cub was about the same level of successful as lying to himself.
It was possible, but it was obvious that you were.
Two years later it was not Scar's place to be calling Grian at 2AM. That was long gone. But the problem was that everything felt like it was crushing him alive, that he was going to suffocate, and only one person in the world could make him feel safe enough to continue.
"Scar?" Grian repeated, more shifting, like he was sitting up. Tired but gentle confusion in his voice. "Are you okay?"
Scar should've hung up. It was bad enough he'd actually called. He should've lied, should've said it was a misdial and pretended to be okay. He should've done a hundred things and he did the one thing he shouldn't, because despite everything that happened between them, Scar felt safest with the one who hurt him. He said, a trembling whisper, "No."
Movement. Grian was awake now, for sure. He said, brisk, "Where are you?"
"Home." Scar pulled his knees up and shook, stomach sore with the force of it.
"Okay. I'm coming."
It snapped something in his chest. Two years had passed. There were mountains and lakes of hurt between them, pulling them apart. But even now, to this day, Scar needed him and Grian was coming.
Somehow it hurt more than if Grian never answered the phone. It made him feel things he didn't want to be feeling, especially not when his mind was already a cacophony of emotion.
Grian didn't hang up, so neither did Scar. He listened, tugging on his hair, the sound of doors open and shut. A car starting. Engine hum and ticker of a turn signal. Time moved so slow, like dragging a corpse across the floor. The panic was still molten hot. He didn't think he was going to survive this. Eventually, the car sounds stopped.
"Scar." Grian's voice came over the speakerphone. Distant, as he said, "I don't have a key anymore."
Yet another sore reminder. Scar dragged a ragged breath. He couldn't push words past his teeth.
"You're gonna have to come let me in." Grian told him, gently.
Scar couldn't move. His legs were locked, stomach rolling, heart rocketing in circles in his chest cavity, wild and loose.
"Okay. Okay. I can probably just fly up to your window, is it unlocked?" Grian said. Then a more hesitant, "Will you magic still let me in?"
It never stopped. Whatever that said about Scar. Probably that he was an idiot. He said, "Y-yes."
"Good enough for me." Grian muttered, then there was the muffle of the phone being shoved in a pocket. A moment later, his bedroom window slid open. A thump on his carpet. And footsteps to the bathroom door.
It seemed almost ridiculous for Grian to hesitate at this point, but he stopped there, and pulled the phone back out of his pocket. He said, quietly, "Do you want me to come in?"
Scar hung up the call. Then he shifted on weak knees to catch the door handle and pull it open before falling back again.
His heart clogged his throat at the sight of his ex. Grian was wearing a too-large hoodie over leggings and huge wool socks, contrasted terrible with the half-asleep decision to wear sandals. His colourful wings were folded up close to his back, face unsure, hair wild, and holding only his phone and car keys.
The first thing he did was drop both of them on the sink counter. He said, "Door open or closed?"
Scar still couldn't quite manage a proper inhale long enough to reply. Grian half-closed it, and sat on the floor facing him, chewing methodically on his lip.
"You really want me here?" Grian asked.
Scar extended a hand towards him, trembling horribly.
His ex sighed. Then took the hand in both of his, like he always used to when Scar panicked. Grian counted the knuckles, one side to the other then back again, slow and purposeful. Pressing on the tendons, counting out loud in a breathy rasp, "One, two, three, four five. Five, four, three, two, one."
The response was automatic, completely thoughtless. Inhale one direction. Hold for the return. Exhale as it came back. Grian's steady hands were in his, warm.
One, two, three, four, five. Grian's eyelashes were fanned against his cheek, dark against pale, focused intently on his task of Scar's larger hand in his.
Five, four, three, two, one. Scar wasn't wearing a shirt, just sweat pants, his skin goosebumped now overtop his map of scars. He didn't think it was from the cold.
One, two, three, four, five. They were quite close together, the bathroom not very large. Scar's toe was almost touching Grian's knee. Grian's wrist was almost resting against Scar's calf.
Five, four, three, two, one. Scar had a thought in his head that wasn't the strangling panic. It was, what the fuck did you just do. Why did he call?
... why did Grian come?
Scar could practically taste his heart crawling up his throat, acidic, blocking off all the air. It all pounded back over. The panic redoubled. He gasped out, "I really can't do this."
The grip on his hand tightened. Grian said, voice deceptively level, "Do what, Scar?"
Grian really should know. Scar said, "It's the festival."
"Oh." Grian's face did something incredibly complicated. A flash of multiple emotions, not settling on one long enough for Scar to read. He swallowed and said, "You're twenty-five."
The Festival of Hearts was held every year. It invited people from all over, but it was especially important to Vex. At twenty-five years old all Vex were required to participate in the Trial of Hearts. And this year, that included Scar.
For some people, it was easy. If you were already married or with someone, then it was just a fun little month where you got to be closer together.
For others, it was an arduous and potentially shitty event where you ended up bound to a stranger for a month.
"I can see why that would be freaking you out." Grian said, after a long moment of thought. He ran his thumb over Scar's tendons in the same pattern, slower now.
"I'm not like Cub." Scar said, through gulps of air. "I can't just... brush it off. I can't be vulnerable like that with someone. I can't, Grian, I can't. I can't."
"I understand." Grian replied, and he really sounded like he did.
It was disarming. It was 2AM and they hadn't had a real conversation in eons but Grian was right there, listening. Scar said, trying to out-pace the race of his heart with his voice, "I can't get out of it. The council is expecting me to participate. I could be kicked off if I don't. It's a right of passage for Vex, I'm supposed to be brave about opening up my heart--but I can't. I'm not in the right mental state for this right now, I'm really, really not. If they bind me to a stranger for a month I'm gonna have to--"
Scar cut himself off, not wanting to put a voice to his intrusive thoughts, and withdrew his hand to tug on his hair again. He whined in the back of his throat and hated the honesty that ripped from his vocal cords the moment he was alone with his safe person.
His safe person who was looking rather pale. He said, "What else has been going on, Scar?"
Scar couldn't stop the bitter scoff from erupting, and turned his whole body away. While Grian's life suddenly got a whole lot better after their break up, Scar's definitely got worse. Between his health and the friction with the Vex council and the constant panic attacks and relentless insomnia, he felt like he hadn't caught his breath in months.
The harsh tug of honesty was not that strong. He said, "It's been fine. I just. I can't do it. I can't."
"Okay." Grian agreed, didn't argue with him. He sounded a little lost, especially since Scar didn't answer his question.
"I'm serious." Scar said.
"I know you are."
Scar made a frustrated noise and pulled away from his hair to glare at his ex. "I can't do it. But I can't not do it. I'm... I'm trapped. I'm, it's killing me, I can't, I can't--"
"Hey, look at me."
Scar's heart was exploding again. The world rushed loudly in his ears, like he'd started to fly at top speed with no warning. Or maybe a free fall, it certainly felt like the world had vanished beneath his feet. That might've been the lightheadedness, because he couldn't breathe, couldn't get any air between his teeth. His eyes were swimming with tears and encroaching dark as he breathed too hard, too fast.
Then a tug on his hands, insistent. Grian leaned into his narrow sight line, peripherals dim, and there was a worried furrow between his brows. Eyes shadowed by his messy light hair hanging in his face. His lips were moving. His hands were pressing in a steady, familiar pattern on the tendons of his knuckles.
It was like being pulled out of the sea mid-way through drowning. One-two-three-four-five. Grian was there. Five-four-three-two-one. He was safe if Grian was there.
Scar gasped for air and the ringing in his ears subsided. Shame and embarrassment had a wash over him. What was he doing? The dampness of tears on his face was a shame, bore to someone he never should've called in the first place.
"Look at me." Grian implored him, again, this time with a slightly more frantic tinge. It spurred him on to comply. He looked at Grian.
His wing feathers were puffed in concern, eyes searching his the moment they locked. He had a death grip on both of Scar's hands, tugging. He said, adamant, "It's going to be okay."
Scar scoffed, because he called Grian for his realism, for the way he never gave him the bullshit platitudes. In his panic he wanted reality. Grian was supposed to be giving him reality, and a grip on it, literal -- with fingers pressing into his knuckles and an objective view.
"No, I'm serious." Grian dragged his attention back, dipping his head to keep his sightline. "We're gonna make it okay. I've got a plan."
A conflicting riptide of two oceans colliding -- dread and relief. Scar said, weakly, "A plan?"
"Yeah." Grian injected confidence in his voice. "You have to go, it's a rite of passage. But you don't want to get assigned a stranger for the rituals. You had told me--"
Grian stumbled, stopped. He licked his lips and looked away. He continued, less emboldened, "You told me when we were together that... that you were gonna bring me."
"That was then." Scar said, voice thready.
"It-- it doesn't have to be me." Grian's voice went higher, almost nervous. He squeezed the hands he was holding, getting that encouraged steam again. "You could bring anyone you trust. Then you wouldn't be suffering a month bound to a stranger, right?"
Scar really didn't know how to tell him this. His throat was dry. He said, "Grian... there isn't anyone else."
Grian stared at him. After a long moment he said, "No, you've got so many people who love you Scar, come on."
"I can't." The only thing Scar could articulate, helplessly.
The expression on Grian's face hardened, and his wings tucked close to his back. He exhaled slow and purposeful through his nose. He said, braced, "Could it still be me?"
"No." Scar said, without even thinking about it.
"You called me here. You didn't call anyone else. You say there isn't anyone else. I'm not saying we do it seriously. I'm saying we do it to get your rite of passage, to get the council off your back. So that you can get through this. I can help you get through this." Grian told him.
"Why would you want to do that?" Scar asked, ignoring the rest of the impassioned take.
Grian faltered, but didn't stay down long this time. He rolled up the sleeves of his giant hoodie, freckled arms bare, bracing them against his legs. He said, after a beat, "Because you called, and I still came."
Scar wanted to repeat the question why. He wanted to give the same thoughtless no.
Grian was right, it was a plan that would solve the problem. No one would even question them going together. There had been so many of sideways comments over time mystified at why they even broke up, since Scar refused to admit the reason. All their friends saw was that they were sickeningly in love, and then they weren't.
"What about your life?" Scar said.
Grian looked surprised that was his next question. "What about it?"
"You're just going to drop all that to pretend to date me?"
Grian swallowed. He said, "I was going to the Festival anyway. And I... I want there to be room for you in my life. I'm sorry I've sucked at staying friends. Maybe this will help?"
That was a bit of a nuclear option for friendship. Scar couldn't believe he was even considering it. He said, "We'd have to lie to everyone. You're only meant to enter with someone if you're serious. The council will be even more angry if we get found out."
Grian's mouth did a funny twist. "I don't think anyone will question us."
Grian likely had no idea the reality of what he was agreeing to. And no matter how badly Scar wanted his best friend back, there were so many very good reasons that he should not.
He shook his head. "No. I'm... don't worry about it. I'll get through. Maybe it'll work, maybe I'll meet my soulmate."
A hundred unreadable emotions fought for position on Grian's face. Eventually, he said, "Fine. How are you feeling now?"
Hungover with panic. Still incredibly shaky. He faked a smile and said, "Great. I'm... I'm really sorry I called."
"I'm not." Grian said, no argument. "Come on, it's very late, you must be exhausted."
Scar didn't disagree, because he didn't know how to explain to Grian that he was plagued with horrible insomnia and hadn't slept properly in months. Instead he allowed Grian to leverage him up by the elbow and guide him with thoughtless ease through the dark bedroom. He flapped back his blankets and basically tucked Scar in, hovering a moment. He opened and closed his mouth a couple times. Then he said, "Goodnight, Scar."
"Goodnight, Grian."
Grian grabbed his phone and keys from the bathroom, shut the light off, and let himself out into the hallway. Scar stared at his ceiling, eyes swimming with darkness, heart punching his ribcage. He knew it wasn't his dysautonomia when being prone did nothing to help. The panic was background, it was constant, it never went away anymore. Just sometimes it got so much worse and he ended up falling apart in a bathroom.
The crying had made his eyes burn, and he shut them just for that. Sleep didn't come so much as hung around, there but not staying. Not sticking.
The sun came up eventually. And Scar heard someone moving in his living room. A weird heart-stutter, before he realized it was Grian, that he'd never actually heard him leave the house last night. He shifted up, limbs heavy, and fewer spoons than ever. He grabbed his cane. And a shirt. He really needed all his interactions with Grian to have a shirt, at the moment.
Scar padded down the hall and slowed when he heard Grian talking. Close enough to see him sitting up on the couch, a blanket over his shoulders and comically squished hair. He had his phone to his ear.
"... I didn't want to wake you. No, I'll be back later. ... Oh. Um. I'm at Scar's. ... Yes. That Scar."
Grian's tone of voice went very weird. It made Scar's throat hurt. He came into sight, three legged taps, and Grian looked up at him.
"I'll see you in a bit, Mumbo." Grian said. "Yeah. Bye." Then hung up, keeping eye contact that burned too much for something so early in the day.
The silence stayed heavy around them. The sun streaked sideways through his blinds, dust particles running over Grian's face, honey eyes and freckles. Neither of them moved.
"You stayed." Scar said, eventually, the only thing he could think to say.
"I..." Grian began, then didn't seem to know how to explain himself because he didn't continue.
Scar tightened his knuckles on his cane. He needed to be a good host, if that was the role that would get him through this. He said, "Coffee?"
Grian visibly swallowed. "Sure."
Scar made coffee. Grian came and sat on his counter like the bird he was, watching Scar move around his kitchen. The elephant in the room was crushing him. It was already hard enough to breath with the thin, constant band of panic around his ribs. He still had the Festival of Hearts. He still had the expectations of the council. He still had sixty drafts to look over this weekend alone. He still had--
"Can we talk about last night?" Grian said, legs swinging off the edge of the counter, because he was a shit-disturber and never left anything well enough alone.
Scar let the frustration into his tone. Keeping the man at an emotional arms length almost desperately, protectively. He said, "I was kinda hoping we were going to pretend that never happened, actually."
"You wanted to go through the Trial with me, once upon a time." Grian reminded him, ignoring the plea.
Scar willed the coffee to brew faster, keeping his eyes on the drip, death grip on his cane. "It's a mating ceremony, Grian. And we were boyfriends. Of course I did."
"But I was someone you could imagine doing the Trial with." Grian persisted. "You don't want it to be a stranger. I'm right here. Wouldn't a stranger be so much worse?"
That was the real question. Would it be worse? The immediate panic said yes, because it washed over him and he stumbled over to sit down on his kitchen stool.
Grian watched him, a spark of worry that he didn't voice. Scar said, raspy, "You really don't know what you're signing up for."
Grian said, almost robotic, "The Vex have a mating ceremony called the Trial of Hearts. You can participate at any time with a chosen partner, but by twenty-five it is considered a rite of passage to participate if you haven't already. If the Vex does not have a partner, the elders will assign them one. Usually based off arbitrary compatibility more attuned to nepotism and superficial traits. The Trial involves a magic bond between the participants, lasting a month. For those entering with a chosen partner it is meant to solidify bonds and prove the strength of the relationship. For those assigned it occasionally leads to long term relationships, but more often than not is just a test of character."
The recitation of facts made Scar's stomach sink. He struggled to keep this off his face. He said, a little more strangled than he wanted, "And what do you know about the bond experience?"
Grian faltered, as if he suddenly realized why this might be upsetting, and wrung his hands for a moment. Then answered, regardless, "It's completely different between every pair. Some have very intense experiences, involving shared mental states and even health status. Others have more mild, like Cub and his assigned partner."
His brother had hit the jackpot, getting a month of telepathic haikus. Cub brushed off the experience with little interest, but still occasionally had coffee with the person the Elders gave him. They definitely had not been compatible, but it had given Cub a greater appreciation for poetry and a slightly better pinball skill.
Cub succeeded in the rite of passage by enduring a growth of character even if it hadn't found him a partner. But Cub's generally unaffected attitude made it easy for him.
It would not be easy for Scar. His mental state was in shambles, and the idea of having any kind of forced connection with someone he didn't know right now was utterly nightmareish.
Grian had no idea what being in a Vex bond was truly like. He couldn't understand what he was offering, even if he felt like he did. But Scar was never going to succeed in telling Grian that he couldn't do something.
Especially when Grian hopped down off the counter, crossed over to him, and took both his perpetually trembling hands. He made Scar look him right in the eye.
"Scar. I want to make it up to you."
Scar bit his lip, hard. He didn't know if he wanted Grian to make it up to him. But Grian's life was so much better, and things were different, and maybe he was tired of feeling hurt over what happened, and maybe this would be the right way to go. Or not. Impossible to say until they tried. And until now, neither of them were trying.
Here was Grian, looking at him and saying he wanted to try.
"And what happens at the end?" Scar said, quiet in his defeat.
Grian exhaled slow and purposeful through his nose. "We just need to get you through the rite of passage, correct? Is it still considered a pass if you break up at the end?"
"As long as you endure the whole month, yes. Partners who decide during the Trial that they are not compatible is not uncommon and considered a moral worth to mutually split afterwards."
"We've already got practice doing that." Grian gave a pained smile.
Scar did not smile back.
After a moment, Grian’s smile faded too.
The tense silence was broken by the sound of keys in the front door. Scar’s magic welcomed his brother immediately, the two of them pinging back and forth quickly through their own bond. Scar’s washed a caution. Cub hummed curious worry inquiry.
“Cub?” Grian guessed, quietly. He’d told Scar once that he got a certain expression on his face when utilizing his Vex bond with his brother.
“He's helping me prep for a meeting later.” Scar said.
“I could go?”
Scar didn’t want to kick a guest out, but he also really couldn’t handle this much longer on so little sleep. He shrugged, letting the lack of a proper response be his reply.
"I'll go." Grian confirmed, picking up his phone and keys and hesitating, wings pulling in behind his back, a flash of uncertainty on his face. "Are we... are we doing this?"
A fist closed around his throat. He tried very hard to suppress it, but Cub must've felt his distress, as he chose that moment to enter the room.
"Grian." Cub greeted, in a very carefully flat voice. The ping Scar received was not as neutral.
"Hi Cub." Grian said, doing a great job of sounding normal even as his fingers tightened on his keys.
"What are you doing here?" Cub said, a trickle of white in his eyes. A warning, if he was unwelcome.
But this house was swallowed in Scar's magic, it was physically impossible for someone unwanted to come in. Cub knew that. Scar pinged him with his own warning.
"I'm..." Grian started, then cast Scar an uncertain look again. He didn't elaborate, waiting to follow his lead.
Scar didn't want to decide right now. But he could taste the panic from the night before on his teeth. He answered them both at once, "I'm going to be entering the Trial with Grian."
Grian's wings relaxed, even as his face stayed the same. Cub also remained impassive, while internally harassing Scar with a repeated magic ping, the equivalent of an exclamation mark over and over.
"Interesting." Cub responded.
"But uh, I better go. I'll text you?" Grian said, skirting around the counter and the brothers.
"Sure." Scar agreed, mostly to be complacent.
"Bye then." Grian waved, and disappeared.
Both Vex waited until the magic relaxed as Grian had left the premises. Cub was staring at Scar, searching his face. Scar's guard was up, and he was waiting for the arsenal of questions lashing Cub's tongue.
But it was none of that. Cub said, "Did you sleep at all last night?"
Scar turned away from his brother, not responding verbally and instead flinging equally loud annoyed pings at him repeatedly. He went to pour himself some coffee.
"Real mature." Cub followed him around the kitchen counter, getting down a mug and pouring some for himself too. "Will you sit down before you fall down?"
Scar wanted to be a smartass about that as well, but it was unfortunately rather accurate. He took up a stool and sipped his coffee slow enough that the lasting tremor in his hand didn't impede him.
Cub sat beside him, chin in hand. He let the concern singing down their bond speak for itself.
"Did you review the notes for the meeting?" Scar said.
"I'm sorry, are we not gonna talk about the fact that you're going to do the Trial of Hearts with your ex?"
Scar grimaced, then blustered on a fake smile. "It's nothing to be concerned about. We've got work to do."
"You work too much." Cub said, flatly. "Why Grian? Why not just take the Elder's choice like I did?"
Scar felt like he'd been asking himself 'why Grian' for years and he was no closer to an answer.
"He's the only person I could." Scar replied, even though that answer did nothing to explain the 'why'.
A fissure cracked Cub's expression, his calm. He said, wretched, "He hurt you."
Scar's heart skipped a beat. He yanked back magical pings as quickly as they tried to leak down their bond to Cub. He said, faked-mild, "The break-up was mutual. It was no one's fault."
"Why do you lie to me when I know you are?" Cub said.
Scar swallowed. He couldn't voice another lie, so he shook his head.
"Something happened. And even if you won't tell me, I can feel how it affected you."
"I've forgiven him." Scar said.
"Have you?"
Scar pretended to be more interested in sipping his coffee.
Cub's gaze was burning holes in the side of his head. He said, "Why would you give him the power to hurt you again?"
A long, searching silence that Scar made no attempt to fill.
Cub sighed, deep and long suffering, and bumped shoulders with his brother. "I'm the one that's gonna be stuck feeling your psychic misery again after all this. Can't you spare me that at least?"
It was an attempt at a teasing normalcy, coloured wrong by his desperation.
Scar grasped the escape with both hands and said, "Gotta keep you on your toes, man. Should've thought twice between binding yourself to me. Can we get to work now?"
His only saving grace was that his bond with Cub was proximity based, and when his brother left later he was free to break down in the bathroom again, not disturbing anyone with his conflicted misery.