Chapter Text
Grian can’t focus on his book. Not that he’s ever been much of a reader, but he’s at least pretending at the moment. Because pretending to stare at a book is better than acknowledging where he is right now.
Scar is still motionless. Still, lying in bed with Jellie curled on his chest like he has been for the past week since they found him. Today is the first day Grian brought up the courage to visit.
Everything still feels loud. Big, bright. Ren had given him a spare pair of sunglasses, which helped with the light a little and he was needing them less and less. But there was still so much, and he had only been out of the void for a few weeks.
Sometimes, he wonders if he’s still there and if he slipped into Void Sleep himself. Maybe this all is a dream he came up with to amuse himself. Maybe he never left the clutches of the void.
It feels more real now that they found Scar. He was alone, drifting motionless through the void. Unconscious - when he had been taken by the Void Sleep, Grian wasn’t sure. But he did know Scar had been alone when it had happened.
He stares at his book.
What was it like, drifting alone? Part of him thinks he knows. Part of him doesn’t want to think about how he knows.
He gives up pretending and folds the book closed, not bothering to bookmark his place. It’s not like he’s actually reading it anyway.
Scar’s chest rises and falls slowly, the only sign he’s alive. He’s pale, he’s thin, he looks sickly. Grian knows that he would recover - Mumbo and Impulse are both almost ready to be discharged from the hospital wing of the ship, and Pearl cheerfully teases him from her bed.
Scar would recover, Grian knows. But…
But he still has dreams, dreams of the void and of eyes Watching him and of being alone. So desperately alone. And Mumbo’s eyes are haunted whenever he looks out the window of the ship. And Pearl couldn’t sleep for a week after she woke up without Grian curled beside her. And Impulse still struggles to sleep through the night without jerking awake.
Scar was alone.
Because Grian had let go.
He’d run the scene through his head a thousand times. Scar had drifted, slipping out of reach. And Grian - one hand holding Impulse, one hand holding Mumbo - hadn’t gone after him.
Maybe he could have. Maybe he could have moved everyone closer so Scar could grab on. Maybe he could have thrown the others to Scar, so if someone had to be alone it was Grian. Maybe, maybe maybe maybe.
There were so many ways he could have changed things. So many options and all of them meant Scar didn’t have to be alone.
“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I’m sorry I let you go. I’m sorry I let you be alone. I’m sorry. I never meant for that to happen.”
“No.”
Grian blinks, looking up, seeing Scar’s eyes open slightly. He smiles weakly, a cheerful, lopsided grin that’s so Scar.
“What?” Grian says softly, reaching forward to grip his friend’s hand.
“You didn’t let go,” Scar says. His voice is hoarse, cracked. Like he hadn’t spoken in a while, like he had screamed until his voice gave out.
“I did,” Grian says, and he squeezes Scar’s hand, trying to fight back tears. “I let go. I watched you float away. I -”
“I let go.”
Scar’s voice is almost too soft to make out, and Grian isn’t sure he heard it correctly.
“Wha-?” he starts, his voice dying in his throat. That doesn’t make any sense. He must have heard wrong.
“I let go,” Scar says again, and this time Grian’s sure that’s what he says. “I -” He closes his eyes, and for a moment, Grian wonders if he’s slipped back into Void Sleep. But his eyes open again, and he flashes that lopsided grin.
“Why?” Grian asks, his voice cracking. Why would Scar let go - why would he drift alone into the Void? Why would he leave?
“I… my fault,” Scar mutters. “Impulse fell asleep and I didn’t want…” He trails off, shutting his eyes again. He’s tired, Grian can tell, but he needs to know so he squeezes Scar’s hand again. “I didn’t want to see everyone go,” Scar whispers. “So I left.”
“I - I could have stopped you,” Grian says, and he’s surprised at how steady his voice is. A large part of him wants to break down and cry, but he did enough of that when they were first rescued.
“No,” Scar whispers. “I’m sorry,” he whispers after. He shuts his eyes, and Grian can see the edges of his face shining with tears. And there’s more meaning to that apology, Grian knows.
He wants to be angry. Maybe he will be, once Scar is in more of a state to be angry at. Maybe he’ll shout and glare and rage about how Scar had left and how he had been so afraid and how they should have stuck together and maybe even how Scar had dropped them in the void to begin with.
But now, Scar is slipping back into sleep, and Grian is too tired for anger. So he squeezes his friend’s hand and just sits.