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Only a few hours after he lost his alliance in the world where time ticked on, the two boys he was closest to despite the inevitable fate of losing them, Grian was already being provoked again.
“Your feathers look awful, Grian.”
He glowered at the man who said it- the ever-so familiar Scar, his hands slung into his pants pocket and his bare chest exposed to the air with his cover-up loosely hanging over his shoulders. He was slouched casually in the evening sun, posing no sort of threat at first glance but having a glimpse of old gunpowder stains still on his hands and rustling through his dark brown hair. He was giving Grian a crooked smile, but there was something hidden in his eyes when they met Grian’s that was sheltered by the mischievous glint always lingering.
They both found themselves hovering by the crevice that divided the Clockers family with the Nosy Neighbors, where Grian was trudging to now after clearing out his house after agreeing to joining them after he lost the remains of the Bad Boys. He packed up his stuff from his old base as quickly as he could, the unusual silence wrapping around his throat within the walls and almost suffocating him before he was able to escape. It felt a lot more empty now without the usual laughter.
But now here he was, interrupted by the man with faint red shades and a coy smirk that Grian was unfortunately familiar with and would’ve smashed the whole world apart in that breath if he could to wipe that smirk off of his face. Grian folded the magpie wings he had tightly against his back, steeling his glare towards Scar as his voice came out rough and guarded, “Haven't exactly had time to preen and make myself look pretty, Scar.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” Scar mused, kicking a small rock by his feet as he challenged a step closer. Seeing Grian’s frosty look, he remained where he was afterwards and splayed his hands out innocently with another crooked smile. “You manage to always look very pretty, Grian.”
“I don’t appreciate this sarcastic flattery,” Grian noted drily, not giving into Scar’s charm as he turned back towards the looming wall he promised his new home would be. His eyes traveled up the stacks of stone, folding his arms close as he frowned. Not exactly in the mood for his shenanigans. I just want to settle down. And sleep. Maybe try and sleep away everything that just happened within the last few hours. Try to pretend nothing’s wrong while sleeping in a stranger’s bed.
He adjusted his wings, wincing at the way the feathers slid together and at the sickly oily feeling he got from being unkempt. Scar didn’t say anything for another moment as he only watched Grian study the canyon below, spotting the small puddles at the bottom of the ravine and the slabs of stone cutting through the dirt. Grian was acutely aware of the eyes following him, and he finally craned his head around towards Scar to glare at him again.
“Got something to say?” Grian grumbled, fluffing his wings out again as he gritted his teeth and kept his eyes wandering so they didn’t just stay on Scar’s unnaturally focused gaze. “I’m not quite in the mood for your usual antics, Scar.”
Scar studied him again, his arms folded and his face slack in a neutral expression that was different from his usual coyness as he finally adhered with another thin smile, “I know.”
Grian wrinkled his nose at him, both of them hovering in an uncertain silence after that. The fading sun was beating down both of their backs, contrasting the wisps of storm clouds rolling away from them earlier in the day with small lines of sweat trickling down Grian’s nape and forehead while it glistened on Scar’s chest, where he glanced for only a second to see it, and along his face as well. Scar’s lips were pursed, eyes furrowed with another serious expression that Grian detested and puffed up defensively at. This man has never once taken things as seriously as they should be, even from lifetimes and memories before that I can barely remember. He looks so out of place when he looks like that. What is he up to?
But before Grian could even begin to question him or try and escape away from his prying eyes, Scar finally spoke up an offer, “I can help clean them for you.”
“Clean what?” Grian clarified crossly, the objects in question starting to puff up again and stretch out towards the last bits of sun despite the awkward sliding the feathers had against each other. I really do need to clean them, but I would rather not have others point it out. That’s how I know they’re bad. But no way am I going to let him trick me like this.
“Your wings,” Scar confirmed with a small head tilt, still smiling as his eyes flicked through to analyze the feathers that were shown to him. “I can still see the dirt and ash stuck in the feathers. They probably feel really gross, with how they look.”
Grian’s wings instantly folded up again to flatten against his back, glaring at him much more harshly now as he hissed thinly, “See, your offer instantly nullifies itself when you insult me.”
“I wasn’t trying to!” Scar protested with another small laugh, palms shooting up once more in a feign of innocence and genuinity. He gestured to the clumps that Grian was able to see himself, offering him another smile. “It’s probably hard to do it yourself, considering how tired you are and how far you can reach. I can help clean those out; I’m more than happy to help.”
Grian narrowed his eyes at him, pausing as he stared at him for a long moment while his stained fingers flexed. It was true; the exhaustion he was feeling from the day was slowly creeping in on him, but there was no way he would allow his guard to drop right now in front of Scar. I don’t care what’s happened in lifetimes before. We’re not allies now. He has no reason to do this, and I have no reason to accept his offer. Unless he wants something, there’s no way he wants to do this just out of the goodness of his heart.
But Scar’s expression remained earnest, more perked up again as he waited for Grian’s response. Grian gritted his teeth, wings twitching closer into his back again as many different denials came to his tongue. He spoke them out in a flurry, briskly and straight to the point to try and deter him, “You wouldn’t know how to do it right.”
“You could teach me.” Scar didn’t relent and didn’t hesitate, eyes still on Grian and making the avian man puff up again. What’s he trying to achieve with this?
His feathers still ruffled and body still coiled, Grian didn’t give in as he scolded, “You could break my wings; you’re a lot stronger and a lot more clumsy than you think you are. You could take out the wrong feathers. You realize if you tug too hard to remove them or accidentally damage certain feathers, I could bleed out?”
A familiar smile, although small, returned to Scar’s face as his eyes didn’t waver. The one negative side effect to knowing Scar well from ancient memories- knowing he was just as stubborn as Grian. “I’ll be really careful. I’ll listen to you.”
The gentleness startled Grian, enough for a lapse in his heart at the familiarity before his defenses came back up, attempting to build up despite the exhaustion almost winning over with the elongated argument. Grian narrowed his eyes at Scar before ducking his head, hands grasping his sleeves as he folded them against his chest and muttered, “You don’t owe me anything. I’m not doing this so you can have some stupid I-O-U later that winds up in me dying.”
“Nothing needed in return,” Scar enforced again, still smiling. He seemed to not move at all during this except for an occasional step closer to Grian, but nothing below their feet signaling any sort of trap. “No cost at all.”
This could absolutely be a lie, Grian wanted to call out, riding back on the memories he had on him before. But Scar had a different glint in his eyes, one that was insistent and imploring that startled Grian. His fingers bunched up again, the jacket under his fingers shuffling from the tension as he looked away from Scar again, his voice only wavering slightly as he mumbled, “I can just do it myself. I don’t need assistance.”
“I know.” There was a shifting of pebbles underneath their feet as Scar shifted one step closer, the only sign of truce or plotting with his ambling feet. But Grian peeked at him briefly to see a much more genuine smile on Scar’s face, eyes sympathetic and understanding. “Just seems like you could use some company.”
“I’ll have company with BigB and Pearl,” Grian informed, one of his feet taking a step back to emphasize the partnership he formed behind him beyond the wall. His wings fluttered behind him, and he winced at their heavy weight. They do need to be groomed, but Scar doesn’t need to do it. I can't trust him. I don’t know if BigB and Pearl would actually help me considering our alliance is brand new, they probably still don’t trust me, but Scar doesn’t need to know that either.
Scar huffed, rolling his eyes in good-nature as his voice came out light and teasing, “Right, well, they’re not fun. I am. I’m great fun. And I don’t want anything in return for helping you.”
“You’re a horrible liar,” Grian grumbled, taking another small step away from him and tucking his wings close. He winced faintly at the feeling again, shaking his head. I can't let him. I don’t want to owe him something in the future. We aren’t as close as we have been before; is he forgetting that somehow? He knows we aren’t true allies, right?
Scar’s expression softened again, ducking his head to meet Grian’s eyes and startling the man with their sincerity again. “I promise you, I don’t need anything back. It’s just a little task, and it’s something that’ll make you more comfortable. You can relax a bit after… After everything.”
The pause was enough for the weight to return to Grian’s shoulders, a sudden heavy wave of exhaustion hitting him as everything felt twice its size from the implied words unspoken. The wings on his back felt much heavier, feathered deadweights dragging on his back, and he sighed thinly as the energy snapped away from him, nodding in resignation. I don’t know if I’ll win this with how tired I am. I can’t keep going after everything.
If he traps me or kills me, if he does anything, fine. I don’t have the energy to complain or try to refute him anymore. But I’ll get him back, and I’ll kill him until he remains dead and the thunder sings my praise. I’ll need some applause after dealing with everything I’ve gone through.
“Fine,” Grian croaked out quietly, clearing his throat to let it slate over as his steps finally moved forward, shoving him lightly with a shoulder. “Just know that if you kill me, I’m not going to stop coming after you until you’re dead.”
Scar perked up immediately, eyes shining as he gave Grian one of his signature grins and saluted, leading the way into the clock tower he shared with his allies. “Loud and clear, Gri. Loud and clear.”
Grian didn’t bother furthering the conversation, instead silently tailing after him as Scar led the way around towards the entrance. Before they entered, however, Grian staggered in his steps as he paused to look behind him and study the thin bridge up above hovering over a crater that was starting to be patched up by BDubs in the distance, waving at their arrival.
But Grian’s eyes were still on the uneven bridge above, hashed into the sky unnaturally and angling upwards with evidence of rails lining them. There was a long shudder that ran along his back as more thoughts drifted into his head, the events of hours before his brain was already trying to cloud and gloss over from his mind’s forefront.
A falling cart. A falling canary. A desperate yell. The roar of thunder. Looming silence.
A deep shudder careened through him, and he shook his head before storming his way into the tower, ignoring Scar waiting for him by the doors and thumping into him briefly before shoving his way inside. Inside felt more hushed, the warmth of the enclosed environment sinking into his body to cancel out the cold rain that had occurred previously in the day. The main room was dotted with torches and chests, a small desk set up near their enchanter with books and papers scattered around. There were holes gaping around them from the carnage before, but wooden boards were placed to patch it up temporarily.
Cleo was downstairs when they first trudged in sitting at the desk, blinking at the ruffled appearance of Grian frizzed up in front of her. She arched an eye at him in faint surprise, gaze shifting from him to Scar thumping up behind him as she mused, “Got some roadkill for dinner there, Scar?”
As Grian bristled with a warning look, Scar chuckled and thumped Grian’s shoulder with his hand as it settled over him. There was something grounding about it, familiar again but still too heavy for him to bear. He bristled again with his touch, the scorching hot feeling making his skin sear as Scar mused without even looking down at him, “Nah, not today. He’s had a bad day, I’m gonna treat him with some Clockers kindness. Some T-L-C, if you will.”
Cleo snorted vigorously, her coiled orange curls trailing around her bemused face as she waved her hand, returning her eyes down to her task at hand with a book on the desk in front of her as she dismissed them. “I see. Have fun, then.”
“Thanks, Mom!” Scar chirped, and Grian twitched when Scar’s hand moved to his back to guide him up the spiraling stairs along the side. Grian followed still mutely, shooting one last wary look towards Cleo that she missed before trudging upwards. The tower was wrapped in lanterns that dangled by their heads, small fireballs of light guiding their steps while the open windows whistled with brisk evening air as the last bits of daylight peered around the cracks and dabbled small bits of warmth along their pathway.
Grian studied them with a small frown, shaking his head slightly. He’s the one to talk about being disheveled. Their base has been beaten up quite a bit too. Remembering the leading cause being a man’s desperate scream to stay alive, Grian bit his tongue down until he tasted blood and washed away any sort of snide comments he had.
“We’ve done a little bit of repair after everything that happened,” Scar informed as they ascended towards the higher levels. He shot a faint smile behind his shoulder at Grian, expression wry as he predicted Grian’s thoughts. “There was a lot to fix, so it may not be the handiest of work. But it’s enough that it won’t be too cold for the night, hopefully.”
Grian’s eyes strayed to the wooden bearings and blockades as they climbed placed along the walls, the odd material standing out from the natural stone they had used to build their tower. Grian bit his tongue again, shaking his head with no response as he did his best to continue shoving the previous memories away. I have no room to judge right now. And I’d rather escape this place with my life, if possible.
But finally, they seemed to reach the room of interest as Scar stopped him from going up the remaining flight of stairs. Scar had made the room adjusted to his liking, a bed pressed against the wall with a red carpet laid across wooden flooring, a window laden with glass in front of them showing the forest nearby and the horizon stained in gold with the fading sun’s shadow. A wooden wall was constructed beside the stone, only a small peek left as a window to catch a faint glimpse of the setting sun itself and letting in a pocket of warmth highlighting one area on the floor. Even though it was one of the higher rooms, it still remained spacious with only a few chests and a crafting table lodged against another wall being the only other furniture. There were more stairs leading to the last few remaining floors, but they were almost at the top with where they stopped.
Scar extended an arm out into the room, rolling his shoulders back as he smiled when presenting it to Grian. “Mi casa is your casa.”
“Don’t think that’s how it goes,” Grian grumbled, but stepped cautiously into the room and glanced around. There were a few buttons and levers decorating the walls as decoration, but Grian shuffled his feet and crouched down to peek under the rug while sweeping his eyes quickly around. Is this trapped? Any string hidden under the rugs? Will it make me fall down to the bottom floor? Anything that I can’t see?
His predictability being sensed, a quiet chuckle left Scar’s lips as he walked up beside Grian and crouched next to him, smiling faintly. “No traps in here, Gri. You’re safe for the night.”
Grian inclined his head towards him, narrowing his eyes at the foreboding of the last sentence, but didn’t pay it anymore heed as he finally settled down on the rug. His fingers combed through the red-dyed wool, kneading underneath him as he curled his legs under him to sit on them with his knees pressed onto the ground. It’s comfortable… And solid. No traps down here for now. Maybe he wasn’t lying…
But we still aren’t allies. This isn’t whatever lifetimes we’ve had before. There was a faint twist in his heart, one fueled by the quick glance he shot towards Scar before moving it away at the features that shone just as clearly as they had before under a shining sun. It can’t be the same. For our own safety. Which is why I don’t understand why he’s doing this.
Scar shuffled so he was sitting in front of him, hands folded into his lap as he studied Grian expectantly. When Grian only narrowed his eyes at him again, Scar chuckled softly and stretched his palms out again with a weak smile. “Sorry. I don’t know how this wing cleaning thing works. It’s been a long time since, uh… Since I’ve really seen this done. Do I… What should I do?”
Grian’s fingers tightened on the rug below him, but slowly relaxed as he exhaled faintly. Suppose that’s fair… Can’t exactly be suspicious and untrusting when he hasn’t done anything yet since he doesn’t know what to do. Scanning Scar’s face again, he admitted quietly to himself, At least he seems genuinely interested in learning about this.
Grian reached up and started tugging the thick jacket off of his shoulders, seeing Scar’s eyes widen briefly before Grian nipped at him, “It’ll be easier at least without the jacket. Usually it’s better without anything, but I’m keeping my shirt on. No friskiness here.”
“No friskiness,” Scar echoed, but his eyes were still tracing the outline of Grian’s shoulders under his black shirt and his evenly toned arms exposed to the last flickers of sunlight before it faded away as he bundled his jacket away, resting it on the ground beside him. “None at all, got it.”
Grian shot him a suspicious look, but his thoughts were elsewhere as his eyes returned to the piece of clothing, his fingers traced the numerous zippers and folds of the jacket he had on previously. His eyes lingered on all of the small tears and metallic shimmering caught in the sunlight, his mind drifting towards two familiar faces.
A smirk highlighted by a streak of green. An earnest and innocent smile shining with golden eyes and wings, laughter that sounded like a song. All of them brandishing the same clothes, laughing and cheering as they rejoiced and slung their arms around each other in a sign of promise and joy.
The memories coiled around his mind briefly, stirring an ache down in his chest before dissipating quietly. Grian blinked back into reality hearing shuffling in front of him, turning to see that Scar had shifted close enough that their knees almost bumped into each other as Scar studied Grian’s face again with a head tilt.
“What’s next?” Scar asked, studying the magpie wings still bunched along Grian’s back. “I, uh, imagine your wings don’t stay folded like that, right? Do I need any specific combs or anything?”
Grian snorted softly, shaking his head as he shifted into position. “No, no special combs. We can usually just do it by hand, but it takes a bit of practice to really clean them well if you do it by hand. Especially if you don’t have wings yourself, it might take a bit to do it as well as we can.”
Scar nodded slowly, but jumped when Grian started shifting around so his back was now facing Scar, letting out a long sigh before closing his eyes. The shirt he still had on gave him a bit of comfort, a small barrier that offered a bit of protection, but this position was always vulnerable. Turning my back to someone… Openly showing them my wings… He could very easily rip my wings off. Or snap them. I don’t know why I’m trusting him so openly.
The welcoming times of long before peeked in again, and Grian shook his head briefly. No. Even back then, it was ages before I let him even touch my wings. And by then, we were so busy almost all the time that I didn’t groom them properly at all. Other times I just did it myself, even when we were soulbound, and they were preened enough to my liking.
I don’t know if this is trust. Maybe it’s not. Maybe it’s just me being exhausted. I think I’d rather blame it on the fatigue then try to ponder why in the world I’m choosing to be vulnerable with him. Still, this could be an expensive and emotionally damaging mistake.
But when he twitched his ears to listen to Scar, there was no sound of a sword or anything signifying he had moved or tried to attack. All he could hear was a stuttered breath, followed by hushed noises as if he dared not to breathe and control his breaths. Grian felt himself soften slightly, breathing out slowly again. He won’t hurt me… Right? He’s not going to hurt me. If those times before meant something to him, then maybe he won’t hurt me.
Please… Please don’t hurt me. Not right now. Not after everything that’s happened today. Please don’t hurt me.
Slowly, finally, Grian let his wings stretch out so that they were splayed out to the world and to Scar behind him. There was a hitch of breath as he marveled in the sights, Grian peering his eyes open to see the mixture of black and white feathers behind him with hidden hints of purple and green metallic sheen. The wings were a lot smaller than what he felt used to, memories of larger wings in a fog he didn’t dare to touch still, but they were agile and smoother than the other ones he had remembered.
They still did feel heavy, however, and Grian could see the buildup of grit and debris within them that Scar had noticed as he winced. Smaller wings are always harder to clean, but they’re the most noticeable when they get dirty. They really do need a tune up.
“Okay,” Scar breathed quietly behind Grian, a small jolt running through him as he forgot momentarily about the man behind him. There was a small brush of feeling by the tip of one of his more medial feathers, and he bit the inside of his cheek to repress the urge of wanting to close them back up. “How… How do I do this, then?”
Grian thought for a moment before huffing to himself, turning sideways and curling one of the wings so it was resting more in Scar’s lap while his side faced him. A startled expression crossed Scar’s face, hands stretched out to the side of him in order to not touch the wing, but Grian chuffed again and murmured, “You’re fine, Scar. You can touch the wing. Just follow my lead.”
Scar looked up with deer-wide eyes, Grian folding the other wing down into his own lap as best as he could. When he had a good handle of some of the end feathers, he smoothed his fingers through the few feathers he collected and pinched up his fingers, running them through and explaining to Scar, “To get out the grit and such like this, you need to pinch around it and pull. Some of the grit is more hardened so it might be a bit more difficult, but the pulling needs to be gentle or else you might damage or pull out some of the feathers. It’s a gentle plucking process, basically, but it’s not actually plucking the feathers. It’s getting all the grubby stuff out in between.”
Scar let out a small noise in understanding, Grian shivering as he looked down at the wing in his lap and reached for a clump of dirt that had gotten stuck near the end, fingers working around it. The nerves around the end started to fire off in alarm, Grian bristling instinctively, but Scar continued to wonder as he started slowly working through the clump, “Is feather plucking a different thing? Then, um, feather cleaning?”
“Preening and plucking are different, yes,” Grian responded, his eyes firmly fixed on Scar’s fingers. He was working the clump out as delicately as possible, Grian surprised that the roughened hands were running through with no harm. Usually he’s trying to set off explosions or kill other people. Didn’t know his hands could be used for kindness and could be so gentle. It’s been a while since they’ve been this gentle.
But Scar tilted his head up briefly, waiting to hear the rest of Grian’s sentence, and the avian man looked away quickly back down to his other wing as he explained quietly, “Preening is our general cleaning and maintenance of our wings. It’s natural and good for us. Plucking is pulling out feathers due to stress when we shouldn’t be, so naturally we don’t want to do that. Feathers may not grow back if we pluck at them excessively, and considering we only have our wing feathers it can be really damaging and cause further emotional turmoil.”
“I see,” Scar murmured, and Grian looked up to see the pinched ball of grit in his fingers as he completed the first task. He was squinting down at it, scrutinizing the materials within it before showing it to Grian. “Like this, then? Was that okay?”
Grian blinked in surprise at the small follicle he had pulled; besides the initial alarms at someone else touching his wings, he hadn’t felt any pulling or tugging that he was expecting. He did better than I thought he was going to be. I think I was expecting some purposeful tugging, but he didn’t do anything like that. The outer feathers are usually easier, but it’s promising.
So Grian nodded, rubbing his hands and shifting around so his back was to Scar now as he eased slightly from his success. “Yeah, that’s good. Go ahead and do as many as you want now, I’ll get the rest later.”
Scar let out a small noise behind him, and Grian tilted his head back to see his confused expression as he brushed the small clot off to the side. “Did you not want me to do all of them?”
Grian shrugged, his ears burning slightly as he looked back down at his own hands with a grunt. “I wasn’t really expecting you to do all of it; that seems silly. Just do enough that I don’t actually have to pay you back.”
Scar laughed softly, a note of exasperation slipping into his words, “Grian, I told you. No payment needed. I’m just trying to help you out. I’d be happy to clean it all out for you, if you’ll let me.”
“Alright,” Grian mumbled, hearing Scar rise to his feet and leave for a moment towards another corner of the room. Grian watched him and the shadows folding around him as he slipped off the cover over his shoulders to reveal the musculature of his upper body, swaying and moving along with the shadows as his broad shoulders and arms shifted around for something. Grian’s eyes slipped away, ears burning again as he chastised himself internally for his wandering eyes. No need for that, Grian. Come on. This isn’t meant to be like that.
Even though the process of preening is a bit… Intimate. I won’t let him see me like that. I don’t want to. I can’t. He stared down at his hands, his fingers twitching as another memory resurfaced briefly from a time not long ago.
Golden feathers and downy fluff as residue in his grasp, laughing softly with the taller man as they both resided in each other’s company. The other boy of their group had chosen not to join, bearing no wings of his own, but it allowed for the canary and the magpie to nestle together and help one another out with their preening. Grian’s shirt was taken off to let the canary man easily preen the rest of his feathers closer to his back, his fingers careful and expertly fitting around them to clean them up as he hummed throughout the process. Grian remembered feeling nervous, not liking his shirt taken off in general, but the canary never batted an eye and continued grooming the feathers as if nothing had changed.
Their first preening session with the boy he considered kin after that moment was filled with nothing but respect and friendship, both of them understanding the delicate process due to their shared avian heritage. Grian left that session after feeling as if he had basked in sunlight and was dripping in gold. He trusted the canary man wholeheartedly afterwards regardless, a portion of his heart allowing room for the canary and the other man as their allyship was realized.
Grian twitched again, hearing a small thump behind him and craning his head back to see Scar with a lantern that he set down on a small slab beside him, giving Grian a wry smile when he saw his eyes looking back. “Sorry. It’s getting darker, so I wanted to grab a light.”
Grian mumbled incoherently in response, now aware of the dimmed lighting outside as twilight air snuck in from the cracks in the architecture. Dusky colors of splayed orange and black puffed outside, swirls of sky fire mingling with the early night canvas. Grian let his eyes study the wisps of clouds and smears of color, trying his best to stifle the anxious beating of his heart as he felt Scar’s fingers start to brush through his wings again as he went along. There was a small tremble coursing through them, and Grian did his best to ignore it for both of their sake.
If he’s nervous, hopefully that would mean he’s taking this seriously. Hopefully. He did his best to relax again, tilting his head up with another soft sigh, but he could practically feel his jugular pulse bounding out of his throat. Hopefully.
The good luck didn’t last for too long, and soon enough there was a tug that felt a lot more aggressive than before. Grian winced, letting out a small hiss in pain, and Scar immediately babbled out an apology, “Sorry! Sorry, your wings, um… They’re a bit dirty. A lot dirtier than I thought. Some of these are really stuck in there. I’ll be more careful, I promise.”
“More than I thought too, apparently,” Grian grumbled mostly to himself, adjusting his stance to try and relax again. The awkward tension was starting to become palpable in the room, coating his tongue as he shook his head at himself. I still don’t understand why I let him do this. BigB and Pearl could’ve potentially helped me out with this. Or I could’ve done it myself.
Would they have helped, though? We’re kind of allies, but it’s been more of a neutral stalemate with them than anything before… Everything occurred. I don’t think I would’ve trusted them with this.
Scar has sort of been an ally, but also has tried to kill me before. Yet he coaxed me to let him do this. He felt Scar’s fingers traveling through his wings again, small tugs met with hushed apologies before he continued on. Grian’s breathing was much more even now, but his heart was still missing a few beats here and there with extra heat traveling to his ears. What an anomaly he is. I don’t know what his true motives are, but I’ll figure them out eventually so I’m not stranded and vulnerable. I’m alone now; I can’t let him get to me.
But when Scar spoke next, it was still hushed and revered with as much respect as he could manage as he inquired politely, “When was the last time you, um… Preened your wings? I thought you usually liked to keep them clean. How did they get this dirty?”
Grian’s open wing twitched, feeling Scar’s hands move more inwards towards the bunched up ones that probably had more dirt and grit behind them as he huffed softly, turning his head briefly towards him. “I do like keeping them clean. It’s been a while. The last time they were preened was-“
He cut himself off, preventing the wave of crashing emotions about to pour over him. When Scar paused, glancing up at him quizzically, Grian turned away back towards the windows and finished the thought more bluntly than he intended, “It was when Jimmy was alive.”
“Oh.” Scar paused again with his cleaning, his fingers still running along the feathers and making Grian repress more shudders at the drawling feeling, small dabbles of heat crawling up his neck. Scar’s fingers wavered listlessly, continuing on quietly, “Did Jimmy help you clean them out? He had wings too, right?”
Grian swallowed, his throat drying out as he looked down at his hands. He confirmed out loud, his voice a bit more hollow, “Yeah, he did. We helped each other clean since we were familiar with it. It’s… Become a bit harder to do it by myself since he’s been gone.”
Scar let out a soft hum in understanding, going back to the process that he maneuvered carefully with. After Grian had settled back down, Scar spoke up briefly again in a voice still quiet with sympathy, “I’m sorry about Jimmy. And Joel.”
Grian’s heart twitched and recoiled fiercely at the mention of them, the memories before now shooting away as well with the stuttering pain felt in his chest. The words tumbled out of him hoarsely before he could stop them, “Let’s not talk about it. Please.”
Scar paused for a brief second, a beat of silence lingering before he responded just as softly as before, “Okay.”
There was no insisting, no jokes like Grian was expecting. Just a quiet acceptance and a continued repetitive motion that was lulling and comforting, familiar and paired with the missing ache in his heart. He closed his eyes, doing his best to control his breathing from it becoming wavered.
I’m not used to Scar’s more solemn and serious side, Grian observed, letting the confusion and uneasiness churn around in his gut. But the suspicion and uneasiness was fickle, filled with a more genuine curiosity instead. What is his plan for this, really? We’re not exactly allies, but… He’s being kind. Gentle. Soft. And I don’t get it.
“Hey, Grian?” Scar spoke up again after a while, distracting Grian once again from his thoughts and from him almost doting off lightly. Grian turned his head towards him again, the room now practically completely dark and faintly seeing him in the small basket of light the lantern gave as he had moved to the outer edges of the other wing, studying the ends curiously. “Why do your wings look like they’ve been, uh… Cut, I guess? Trimmed? I thought they would be a lot longer or something.”
Grian hummed again, glancing down at the frayed ends he was referring to as he nodded aimlessly with his mind still trying to pull itself out of the sleepy lull it had been in. “Yeah, wing trimming. It’s to stop me from flying since it’s not allowed in this universe.”
“Oh.” Scar paused again, a concerned furrow in his brow as his hands released some of their tension. “Does it hurt?”
Grian shook his head, watching Scar’s fingers trail over his feathers again after the reassurance. They were careful and gentle still, petting down and softly brushing over them enough to stir a small pit of warmth and safety starting to brew. So careful… So cautious… He can’t be thinking anything sinister, can he? But I can’t let myself fall into this… Not again…
Trying to swallow down the bumbling pot of warmth, Grian looked back down at his hands instead as he explained, “Not really. The only time it’ll hurt is if the feather itself is coming out, and even then it’s not usually super painful unless it’s accidentally a blood feather.”
“Blood feather?” Scar echoed, voice still mixed with concern but also filled with wonder. Grian couldn’t help a small half smile at his curiosity, Scar’s fingers starting to move in the familiar pattern again to start preening again. The instinctive trust that came with the preening was building despite Grian’s defenses, already slack from exhaustion but genuinely built out of a foundation made from the sincerity in Scar’s eyes and gentle caresses of his fingers.
“Blood feathers have our wing’s primary blood supply,” Grian continued to explain, his body relaxing as he let his eyes drift close. “If you pull or trim one of those, it’s adjacent to slitting one of our arteries. We could bleed out in minutes.”
Scar flinched, drawing his hands back away from his wings when Grian eyed him with a small huff of amusement. He gave Grian another concerned look, wide-eyed beside a weak smile that didn’t meet the worry in his eyes. “That doesn’t sound pleasant.”
Grian gave him a small smile back, shaking his head slightly as he murmured, “No, it wouldn’t be.”
Scar’s smile lingered, and both of them sat for a moment as they gazed at each other. Grian saw the flecks of red swimming around Scar’s eyes through the lantern light, the lines of his biceps seen through the creases of shadows that traveled all over his barren chest. Grian felt the heat from his ears crawl to his face, and he quickly jerked his head away with another internal chide, Good heavens. This isn’t dignified. These natural pheromones from the grooming are getting to my head. I need to keep my guard up. I can’t let myself feel mushy.
It might be too late for that, though. Much, much too late. If he betrays me now, I’m a goner. But I think I can trust him. He doesn’t seem malicious.
But Scar seemed to scoot just a hair bit closer, a stray hand running over to rest on Grian’s back in between his shoulder blades. Grian jolted slightly from the touch, cheeks heating up further as the fingers softly nestled into his shirt in comfort as Scar finally spoke again quietly, “You can talk about them, you know.”
Grian tilted his head around, startled to see Scar’s face hovering near his. His breath was faint against Grian’s cheek, already warmed from the intimacy, but Grian did his best to blink past it as he stifled his fluttering heartbeat down. “What?”
Scar gently rested his chin on the very end of Grian’s shoulder, his fingers running up and down Grian’s back in a comforting motion that Grian did his best to stifle the yearning he had for his fingers on his actual skin. Scar’s eyes were still sincere though, hesitating for another moment before murmuring softly, “I think that’s part of the reason I invited you up here. I know you don’t have any more super close allies, but I figured… I hoped I would be an option, if you wanted it.”
“Why?” Grian whispered to him, the billows of his breath gently swaying the tips of a few small hairs dangling on Scar’s forehead. His heart was thudding louder again, surprised that Scar couldn’t feel it through his back. Why do you want to see me in such a vulnerable state?
But Scar smiled, giving him an answer he wasn’t ready for and sending his heart and mind reeling. “Because I’ve missed you. And I’ve missed being close to you. That’s the truth; no manipulation, nothing to barter out of you. I’ve missed your company, and I know you’re probably missing your friends. I wanted to help out, even if it was as little as this.”
Grian’s throat ran dry, his eyes starting to sting at the corners as he searched every inch of Scar’s face to see if there was any lie detected within. But nothing came out, just an honest man with his head gently resting on his shoulder and giving him a look that broke down the primary walls he had built up.
How can I say no to that? How can he break me apart so easily just by being honest? He blinked rapidly to force the tears away, sniffing softly. I can’t… If I talk about them now, I may just break entirely. But if he’s being honest about all of this… God.
“I don’t think I want to right now,” Grian finally told him, still denying but feeling his reserve caving with the sincere intent in Scar’s eyes. He forced himself to look into them, not trying to stray his eyes lower but feeling the room’s air thicken as they met the other’s eyes, his voice growing more hushed again, “I don’t want to right now, but… Thank you.”
Scar studied his face for a long moment, Grian’s pulse jumping when they lingered on his lips for a brief moment before he pulled away, the hand on his back retracting as he nodded once more in resignation with a voice gentle and understanding, “Okay. If you’re sure.”
I’m not, Grian almost responded out loud, but didn’t let himself speak. He could only nod in response, the back of his neck crawling with heat again that matched the blushing marks on his face as he turned away. Don’t say anything right now. I need to make sure I won’t collapse if I choose to confide in him. I trust him. I just don’t trust myself to not collapse.
But Scar didn’t return to the preening, now changing the conversation with a hint of shyness in his voice as he mumbled, “I, uh… I think I’m done except for… For those feathers closer to you. Can’t really reach those other feathers closer to your back though. Unless, um…”
Unless the shirt comes off, Grian finished his thought for him, more of the tension pressing into the room and burning his face. He let out a begraddled sigh, pressing a hand to his face in a failed attempt to cool them off and instead feeling them heat up more. I need to relax. I don’t have to do that. I can end it here.
But the heaviness of dirt and clutter within the base of his wings was the worst, always being the most with how compact the wings were in comparison to the ends. And deep within his heart was that longing for comfort still with Scar’s presence, protesting in wails at the thought of leaving Scar now after everything. His chest was pounding loudly and constricting still, attempting to find a bit of humor in the situation as he mused to himself, Of course it would be Scar as the only other one to see me shirtless besides someone I considered family. Scar isn’t exactly family, but he isn’t really a stranger either. Furthest thing from, actually.
But the longing and yearning was calling out louder, yearning for Scar’s touch again and leaning back towards him instinctively. He let out a soft sigh, closing his eyes again. I don’t want to leave him, though. Not just because of the feather preening, but because of… Of everything else.
There were many more faint memories of their pasts together, of lifetimes before where a desert sun bore above them and a conjoined heartbeat connected them in threads of green. Of the times where they were true allies, taking each other as far as they could standing right by the other’s side. Grian knew Scar’s smile from lifetimes before, had practically memorized it from those times he knew he couldn’t forget if he tried.
But there’s different reasons I don’t choose to remember them every day, Grian let himself admit, looking up into Scar’s eyes again where he had scooted back. He was still watching Grian, quietly folded into himself in the early nighttime light. The lantern smoothed over his features, accenting his hesitance but hidden yearning. Whatever Grian had been wandering through in nostalgia, it was clearly a path Scar was walking as well. Because I know I would miss him badly enough that we would never know what the feeling of strangers was again.
He’s never been a stranger, though. Not even after resetting all of those worlds, he’s never been a stranger. Grian met Scar’s eyes briefly before his hands slipped down towards the hems of his shirt. Scar’s eyes followed his hands, arching briefly with another hint of cherry wine coloring spilled on his face as it burned with the realization of his action. Grian did his best to keep their eyes locked together despite his own flustered heartbeat still racing, the uncertain and anxious feelings rushing away with the blushing face across from him still holding so much trust and care. If I could trust anyone after losing my closest allies, it would be him.
So he curled his wings back in, tucking them close in order to fit his shirt off above them and finally take it off. His skin instantly felt goose-pricked as cool air rushed by, bumps running over his arms and his wings stretching over his exposed but compact back. He turned away from Scar’s wandering eyes, going from goosebumps to overheating almost instantly with the gaze he could feel already running all over his back and searching the wings that started to spread out again. Grian let Scar admire it, his hands resting over the small roll of his stomach as his face continued to seethe in flustered heat.
Both of them remained hushed for a long moment after Grian’s exposure, but he finally was able to find a few words as he willed Scar quietly, almost pleading with the remaining fear still running through with his fragile wings exposed, “Just be gentle.”
Scar didn’t respond, but Grian could practically feel his thundering heartbeat through his fingertips as he began the careful process again, going into the thicker clumps of feathers. He obeyed Grian’s wishes as best as he could, but Grian knew there was more grime that was thickened and more difficult to pick out as Grian could feel the clumps much easier now without the restraint of clothing. Even so, however, Scar seemed to be taking his time to take it all out bit by bit, a delicate process he respected and paid the time for while they both continued to simmer in the thickening tension. The moon and stars were the only company they had, but even the crescent above was shying away while the stars hid behind wisps of clouds from the intimate setting.
Grian tried to find words to say, anything at all, but there was nothing through a tongue that felt as if it carried its own pulse now and was heavy in his mouth. All he could focus on was the hands gently combing through his wings, his back arching briefly when Scar’s fingers accidentally slid to his back and touched the burning skin there. All of his vessels felt dilated, his whole body warm and mushed from the tender care given to his preening.
I can't feel like this, Grian tried to deny himself, helpless to stopping the thumping heart in his chest from kicking up its pace. I can't grow close ties again. I can't risk my own heart again by losing someone else I care about. I can’t. Especially not Scar. I can’t do this again.
But even so, his heart still thudded the same pace with the same earnesty. He felt Scar’s breathing on his neck when he leaned in to focus on the wings more, Grian still holding himself as still as he could with the tips of his wings shaking as he finally accepted the reality of events. That’s virtually impossible now with him. Even with the memories bundled away, I know how I’ve felt about him before. Our allyships, our bond together… No matter how I’ve lost him before, my heart will always leave a bit of room for him. Enough to destroy me every time.
He was so lost in his thoughts, he almost missed the words slipping from Scar’s mouth had he not touched Grian’s back purposefully again, his words hushed as he gently murmured again, “I know you may not fully trust me in this universe, which I get. But… You’ve been through a lot, Grian. Are you sure you don’t want to talk about things?”
Scar’s hand trailed lower, the tips gently grazing the lumbar portion of Grian’s spine and making him bite his tongue again to prevent it from curling under his touch as Scar continued softly, “I know I’m not supposed to, but… I still care about you, Grian. I’m here if you need to talk, seriously. No questions asked. I’d always be here for you.”
And finally, feeling the remaining weight of the dam holding back all of his feelings fissure the last few defenses away, he finally paused and didn’t deny him right away. He hesitated, enough for Scar to lean forward so his chin rested on Grian’s shoulder again and his chest pressed gently against Grian’s back. Immediately heat spikes impaled Grian from where their skin contacted, more heat pouring all over him from the proximity and making his stuttering heartbeat continue to kick wildly.
But even with the wild beats, there was a small dark pool sitting at the bottom of his gut and infiltrating the last bits of his heart still rotten and cold to the core. The last pieces of the dam still holding it together, the trickles of everything pouring down only faintly into the pond of guilt and agony. Those pieces shivered, however, at Scar’s warm words, reared when Grian turned his head so his nose gently brushed against Scar’s as he looked right into the emerald eyes swirling red. Emeralds and rubies hid in those depths, shining with nothing but care and a kindness that ran Scar’s blood with ichor and shattered the rest of the resolve Grian tried to have.
Their breaths mingled for a moment, Grian studying Scar’s face and feeling his hands run down to wrap his arms around Grian’s waist. His hands rested over Grian’s resting in his lap, calloused and scarred but still the hands carrying the most love he had ever encountered. The times before of allyships, ones Grian swore could never be the same again, suddenly didn’t feel like lifetimes ago anymore.
So Grian breathed out evenly, both his and Scar’s eyes met as he finally whispered, “I miss them.”
Scar held his gaze steadily, his hands squeezing Grian’s as he didn’t try to speak any further and let him pour. He nestled his chin more into Grian’s shoulder, silently adjusting so Grian was sitting in between his legs that spread out on the side of him, the magpie wings still extended out to shift around after the preening. Nothing gave way in Scar’s eyes, the continued genuine intent shining true within as he watched Grian with patience.
Grian could feel his eyes starting to prickle again, the cold sadness he was feeling before starting to melt away with Scar’s golden touch and trusting eyes. He closed his eyes, soaking in the joint breaths they took and the heartbeats pattering just as intensely together as words gently sprung free from his lips, “I miss them. I miss the boys that I called family. I feel so alone now without them. I hate having these connections because I lose everyone I bond with, and the bond I had with these guys was… Whole. Fulfilling. Enough. And I cared for them so much. That always seems to be my hubris, and I… I miss them.”
The rest of the dams broke, emotions running through him and swamping him over. The tears trickled free from his cheeks, letting a few of them trail down and soak up in their hands. He choked on his own cries, turning his head away from Scar’s in an attempt to hide away still even after their vulnerable position. Even though there was no regret, there was still shame coursing through Grian’s skin at his sensitivity.
There was another beat of silence, one that lingered until one of Scar’s hands unwound and reached up, gently brushing his thumb under Grian’s eyes to wipe away the tears. His chest expanded and stretched beyond the capacity he thought it could, making room for the bursting warmth now taking over as the sadness was swept away. Grian opened his eyes briefly, seeing Scar’s thumb lingering right by his eyes as he gave Grian a weakened smile, eyes showing nothing but love.
He makes it so hard to not trust him immediately with everything I have when he looks at me like that. Grian’s eyes squinted at him, letting out a small laugh and giving Scar a weak smile in return when their eyes met again as a slip of their usual humor cut into his words. “You’re dead if you ever tell anyone about this.”
Scar laughed softly with him, scooting closer and letting his hand fall so now both of them rested on his hands again. Grian’s back was now fully pressed against Scar’s chest, feeling his heartbeat right between his wings as Scar gazed at him with a faint smile. “Don’t worry, Gri. It’ll be just like old times. Just you and me.”
“You and me?” Grian echoed, the word’s charm casting their own spells over the other. Scar’s eyes were trying to stay focused on his, but they kept straying downwards and making Grian’s chest clench once more. Just like old times. How it’s always been. And not how it’ll always be, but in the times that we get together… It’ll be like nothing’s ever changed. It’ll feel like how it should always be.
Scar’s face inched just a bit closer, and his words came out quiet but genuine as he breathed in confirmation of conjoined feelings, “You and me.”
His eyes flicked down to Grian’s lips again before up into his eyes, a silent plea within his irises. And Grian responded by meeting him the rest of the way, breaths mingled before his eyes closed and their lips finally met, chasing away the lingering tension between them building for the whole night. Both of them immediately relaxed as their bodies were freed from the tense bindings, Scar’s hands moving away from Grian’s towards his hips to trace the faint lines along his ribs as his lips swam with the taste of cherries and lantern heat. Grian leaned back into his touch, his hand curling around to cup Scar’s heated cheek to bring him closer and snag a few loose tendrils of hair beside his ear to toy with.
Even though the heat passed between them in a case of infernos, there was no urgency behind it as they soaked in each other. It was a simple message, one they already conveyed as their touches whispered, You. At the end of the day, when we lose everyone and can’t turn elsewhere, when we can’t trust anyone else, it’ll be you. Even if we’re enemies, it’ll be you. Even if we’re at each other’s throats fighting for our lives, it’ll be you. My heart will always have you. In these moments, it will just be you and me.
You and me. Always.
They parted after a few moments to breathe, Grian sucking in the fresh air and running his fingers along Scar’s cheek and jaw to trace along indents that were all too familiar. Scar’s eyes slid open briefly to watch Grian, full of an affection and love that he knew would only be for this moment while his hands continued to run along his ribs and travel down to his hip line. Grian soaked in what he could, pressing back against him with a long and shaky breath.
After tonight, we keep playing this game against us. We won’t trust each other the same anymore. But for now, he can see my wings. He can kiss me until we convince ourselves it’s enough. And we can tell ourselves it’ll be enough until next time.
“You’re not alone,” Scar finally murmured, nudging his head forward until his and Grian’s foreheads rested against each other. His arms wrapped around Grian’s waist again, tugging him in with the newly preened and loose wings folding back against his chest as a barrier for his heart. Scar’s eyes were earnest, melting with determination and clarity. “You won’t ever be alone. You know that, right?”
“I do,” Grian breathed softly, nodding with him. Because deep in his heart, he knew. After that first universe where we were put into these games, it was never going to be just me. He was always going to be with me, whether we were allies or enemies. I thought it was a burden, but now it’s a lifeline. Now it’s what I look forward to every time we enter a new world.
Scar searched his face, searched his expression before his eyes lowered for a moment, murmuring softly, “You know as well as I do though about what happens tomorrow. Separating. Trying to potentially kill each other again. We know how it goes.”
“We do,” Grian confirmed, opening his eyes again to watch the lanterns accent the sincerity in his depths. His hand reached back up to run along Scar’s face and tousle around the small strands of hair again, watching him lean into Grian’s touch instinctively.
Scar closed his eyes in the brief bliss he experienced from Grian’s touch, Grian feeling his pulse stumble briefly before kicking back up when Scar’s eyes danced open and met Grian’s gaze again, whispering softly, “But you don’t have to be alone. Not tonight. You can stay here. You can grieve. You can stay with me. And when you’re ready in the morning, you can build yourself back up to go out there and win this.”
Grian laughed softly, shaking his head slightly as he smiled faintly at him. “I don’t know about winning this whole thing.”
Scar gave him a small smile in return, his head ducking to plant a small kiss on his shoulder that sent a brief shudder through Grian’s body and out towards his wings that trembled. “I do. You’re Grian; you can do anything if you really want to. I know you can. And I’ll be cheering from wherever, the afterlife or the ground nearby, as you move forward. I’ve always believed in you, regardless if we’re enemies or not. You’ll always be an exception.”
Scar pressed his lips together briefly, another small kiss on Grian’s shoulder before looking back up at him with understanding eyes. “I know you’re upset about Joel. About Jimmy. For good reason. But I know you can win, whether it’s for yourself or for them. I know you’ll be okay, even if it hurts right now.”
Grian felt his face soften out with Scar’s more serious message, giving him another weak smile before planting a small kiss on his nose, whispering softly, “Well, you seem to be helping out quite a bit with this grieving process.”
Scar perked up briefly, eyes shining with a faint giggle before he sobered up again, resting on Grian’s shoulder again and his hands moving back to gently grip his hips as he whispered again softly, “You can stay tonight, then? Stay and heal. I can help you with the rest of your feathers and make sure they don’t have any more dirt on them before you leave.”
Grian couldn’t help but smile again, all of the aches before already vacant and his preening nearly forgotten as he nestled back into Scar’s grasp, finally whispering back, “Okay.”
Scar’s eyes twinkled with understanding and light as he finally leaned forward again. And as Grian leaned back into him, lips connecting again, Grian’s heart chimed softly, I’m not alone anymore. I’m never alone again. It’s you and me.
You and me. Always.
And while they stayed wrapped up in each other, lips connected and entangled in an embrace as Grian turned to face Scar now, Grian’s newly preened magpie wings stretched out behind him with the shimmering colors that had never glowed as brightly as they did now.