~The First Step~ a Hermitcraft AU

Chapter 62

wc: 1774

tw: discussions of grief

It had been a while since Mumbo had last slept properly. The days after the battle passed in a strange haze, and before he knew it, everyone was back on Hermitcraft, huddled in a tight group. Xisuma had quietly announced that they would be moving on to the next season as soon as he'd gotten a world set up. No one had argued.

Eventually, hermits split off to return to their bases and parse the past few weeks' events on their own time. Mumbo barely even realized- all he heard was the last crackles of static in Grian's breath before the comm cut, all he saw was the graying skin of his best friend, all he could feel was the awful knife twisting his gut with grief.

All this to say, when Mumbo finally reached his own bed after... an unbearably long time, he could barely bring himself to lie in it.

However thick the guilt was, the exhaustion was thicker. Mumbo collapsed on top of the blankets and breathed in the familiar air of a bed he'd carved himself.

He dreamed:

"Mumbo!"

There was Grian's face, split with a wide grin, wearing a familiar oversized jumper and sporting great, billowing white wings. He pushed himself forward with a flap, flinging his arms around Mumbo's neck.

"Hey, Grian," Mumbo replied, smiling softly and placing a hand on Grian's head. Something's wrong, the back of Mumbo's head whispered. This shouldn't be happening. "Wh- what are you doing... here?"

"Pearl let me come," Grian said easily, going on his tip toes to bump his forehead against Mumbo's. "I'll visit some of the others, too. Just to say bye."

"Why are you saying bye?" Mumbo frowned, tangling his fingers in the back of Grian's jumper. "Can't you stay? I'm sure I've got tea somewhere, and..." He turned to see a field, sunflowers swaying softly in a gentle breeze. "Where...?"

"Pretty, isn't it," Grian said, more of a statement than a fact. "I dunno where this is, either. It's a dream though, anything's possible, hm?" His eye twinkled. "Anything."

"Grian, what's happening?" Mumbo said softly.

"I'm dead," Grian replied, staring straight ahead at the gentle scenery before them. "At least, my physical body is."

Mumbo choked. "What..?" The brunt of a week (or two, or maybe three)'s worth of grief slammed into his gut like a steamroller, painful and heavy. "Grian, Grian, I-" He whirled, fingers reaching, only to find Grian staring up at him calmly.

"I'm still here, though," Grian said, his cadence soothing. He reached back, tangling his hand in Mumbo's. "I'll be here. And I'd do all of it again if it meant that we won." His smile widened from a soft thing into a sharp grin. "Which we did, Mumbo. We saved so many people."

"But we lost you," Mumbo said before he realized his mouth was moving.

"No you didn't," Grian retorted, cheeky. His flashed his gremlin's smile again, taking Mumbo's hand in both of his own. "You never did. Bye, Mumbo."

"Bye, Grian," Mumbo whispered, watching as the landscape blurred and faded away.

Mumbo woke with tears in his eyes and a soft smile on his face.

~~~

When Scar opened his eyes, he immediately made a beeline for his desk, yanking open his notebook and grabbing a pencil.

Quick lines began to make up a sketch of Grian's profile, lining the soft curve of his nose and the quirk of his smirk. Scar hummed as he worked, hands steady, never wavering. Even as a tear rolled down his cheek and splattered the paper below, he continued, marking out the angle of Grian's neck and detailing messy wisps of hair framing a beautiful face.