Chapter Text
Conscience returned to Scott in small waves. At first, all he was aware of was the ringing in his ears. Slowly… his fingers twitched involuntarily, and he started to become aware of his body.
His face scrunched up in slight discomfort. Despite his awareness being returned to him, he felt… numb. In front of the pain from the phantom warden shrieks, his other receptors were all dulled enough that for one second he couldn't even feel the bed beneath him.
One of his most disadvantageous deaths, especially one for which he didn't have a good remedy that could get him back on his feet immediately.
A soft noise left him as he willed his eyes to crack open slightly. Light was cutting through the gaps in the curtains, clearly signalling it was early morning or close to afternoon.
… Waking up three days after a warden death? Pretty common for him. Ah, but this means he missed a task…
Another sharp shriek tore through Scott that made him feel like it was spreading through his whole body, and he flinched, eyes clenching shut.
Shit… and now the agony will start, with a sharp phantom shriek every 3 minutes. Yes, he has timed it from his warden deaths in the other worlds. In front of sensory overload, that's all a desperate man can do to anchor himself to reality.
He acutely became aware of a weight on his chest, and God- it was heavy. What the hell was crushing him…?
Relaxing his eyes and opening them again, he realizes it's all… blurry. Force blinking away the definitely not present tears, Scott's eyes flicked downwards and- brown hair…-?
…
Grian-?
The parrot hybrid was asleep contently on top of Scott, eyes closed, one hand tucked under his head, the other clutching his shirt tight. Scott's brow furrowed, trying to make sense in his current, disoriented state.
So I died… because of the… warden, right. And then… I probably spawned back but I… don't remember that… oh-
…
Oh no.
Did he… end up worrying Grian…?
A pained noise left Scott's mouth, gaze averting to a random corner of the room, eyes going glassy. But it wasn't because of the shrieks this time. He didn't want Grian to worry… Grian didn't have anything to worry about. Scott would've been fine without any of this…
he hopes, he really does, that this doesn't mean deep rooted care. If it does… if it does it will make this more than just a fling and Scott- Scott can't handle that thought right now-
He faintly felt Grian move, but it was hard to make sure. He couldn't really feel much of anything except for his sensory overload.
But then Grian's hand weaved through Scott's hair, a whisper of comfort leaving him.
“Hey, Scott… It's okay. You're safe, you'll feel better… you can get through this…”
The whispered care was both soothing yet jarring, cutting through the sensory overload, grounding him- but leaving a rattling echo of itself.
Scott liked it. He was scared that he liked it. He hated how easily he got attached. Jimmy. Martyn. And Mi-
Another pained noise left Scott's mouth. No, no he can't think about him- if he thinks he'll fall down a rabbit hole and this time… he might never be able to climb out.
Instead- he desperately tried to focus on Grian's voice and the hand in his hair. Grian's other hand slowly interlaced with Scott's, and the elf hybrid squeezed it to say he was present.
He was alive.
He was here.
Grian squeezed back in reassurance; the litany of comforting words a soothing balm, yet equally overwhelming to his fractured senses.
______
It was only after Scott had started to doze off again did Grian stop the reassurances. He was relieved- relieved he didn't accidentally ruin Scott in any way. Didn't damage him.
But he was also a bit concerned. The distressed sounds that had left Scott seemed less from pain and… more from something else. Unfortunately, Grian couldn't grasp what could have made Scott like that.
…
Or maybe he was assuming and it was wrong and the warden death was still weighing Scott down.
Really, he'll never know, because he bets his next death on it- Scott will swear on his life that he made no such concerning sounds while he was half delirious from pain.
Sighing, Grian left a peck on Scott's temple, patting his hair gently, before untangling himself as slowly as possible so that the fragile peace Scott had found himself in wouldn't be broken.
Quietly closing the door behind him, Grian went into the kitchen. Okay. Time to lift Scott's spirits with a well made favorite dish!
…
Eh-
Uhhh...
what is Scott's favorite dish though-?
…
PEARLLLL-!
Martyn was biting the stick hard, trying to ground himself, tremors wracking his body as sweat glistened down his temple. Lying on his bed, his arm was thrown over one side of his head to block out as much noise as possible while his other ear pressed hard against the mattress.
But it was as useless as ever. The shrieks… just wouldn't stop. Of course they wouldn't. They were phantom shrieks only he could hear. But trying to stop them was basic nature in such a painful state.
Jimmy quietly opened the door, peeking in, clearly worried. “Martyn…? Need anything?”
Martyn clearly didn't hear him, eyes still fogged over with pain. Another wave tore through him and he flinched, a muffled sound of pain escaping around the stick as he bit down hard again.
Jimmy swore he could hear the stick starting to break.
Taking out a bottle of water, Jimmy crouched down next to the bed, gently trying to tug the stick out of Martyn's mouth. Martyn finally let it go, the half bitten stick falling down.
Breathing heavily, his eyes lifted up, trying to make out the silhouette.
Blue jacket…?
S-scott-?
…
N-
Another shriek hit again, and Martyn clenched his eyes shut, teeth instinctively grinding down. But without the stick he accidentally bit down on the side of his cheek, blood slightly pouring out the side of his mouth. He didn't notice.
“Shit- Martyn look here-!”
Jimmy tried to get him to sit up, to drink some water or rinse his mouth, but Martyn didn't budge.
“g-go… away…”
The whisper was barely heard by his own ears, but it was a clear denial of any help to Jimmy. The canary hybrid clenched his jaw in conflict. On one hand he understood that Martyn needed space.
On another part… he just couldn't help but remember a pair of caring hands helping through every problem, every pain, every death. And it always frustrated him that he was the one receiving, not giving.
“...”
Still quietly tugging the out-of-it-with-pain man into a half sitting position, Jimmy brought the water bottle to Martyn's slightly slack mouth, hand beneath his chin so that any dripping water could be caught.
“Easy… come on, Martyn, you can do it…”
Faintly registering the coaxing voice, Martyn drank what little he could, the water soothing his parched throat. Somehow it was a grounding sensation, as he blearily blinked to properly catalog the discovery his brain was making before getting rudely interrupted by pain.
It wasn't Scott, it was Jimmy.
“What're you… doing here…?” a rough voice asked, and Martyn recognized it as his own.
Jimmy sighed. “What does it look like? I'm taking care of my big dog.”
Martyn couldn't help the raspy sound supposed to be a laugh that left him. Momentary distraction, and it was a blessing.
…
But only for a minute.
He fell back onto the bed again, hands covering his ears and gripping his hair as another scream muddled his brain, a groan leaving him.
“Shit… st-op…”
Eyes glazed over once again, Martyn breathed out yet another dismissal.
“I can… get through this Tim- hah-”
“Martyn can you please stop being-”
“I said I can handle this-!”
The feeble attempt to assert his dominance over the situation would've made Jimmy laugh, in literally any other scenario. Right now, he could just frown in concern.
Martyn took in a shuddering breath, eyes cracking open slightly to glance at Jimmy with a wincing, wry smile.
“I’ll… let you help till tomorrow yeah? Shit- but for today… please let me handle t-this…”
Jimmy was quiet for a minute, before nodding slowly, whispering to keep it easy on Martyn's ears. “Okay… okay, I'll leave water and some- yeah, I have some berries here as well and-”
“Thanks mate…”
Placing the fruit and water next to the bed, Jimmy stopped by at the door for a moment longer, hesitating, before closing it behind him.
Martyn raised his shaking hand, browsing through his inventory and taking out another stick before immediately biting onto it as another wave hit. Hell these were relentless-
The stick was already dented with how hard he had grit his teeth against it, and Martyn hoped it would take at least 4 more bites before it inevitably broke.
Breathing heavily, eyes fluttering shut, his thoughts went back to Scott.
He's glad he at least got to save him.
Forgiven or not, he won't give in to the watcher's temptation ever again if it means he has to see that expression on anyone's face once more.