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sparksnevadas · 1 year

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Hewwo its me sparks, a little bug that hasnt been feeling well for the past x amount of time. I wrote a little angst/comfort drabble thats not really canon to gihasm but it fits where you want it to fit after last chapter. Its not my usual quality but it seems lots of people are not doing great so im just going to share. I hope you all feel better. <3

(tw: negative thoughts)

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The alarm bell rang and Grian knew it was going to be a bad day.

He had had the dream again, the one about flying high above the clouds before something changes, and he plummets to the ground. He’d kept dreaming as he hit the floor, pain a distant thing (shock, his sleep-brain reminds him, shock can make things hurt less).

On the floor, he was twisted up, broken and civilians gathered immediately. He can still hear the disgusted murmurs of them, see their pointed fingers and see their sneers.

“Someone put it out of its misery.”

Grian forces himself to turn off his alarm through the fog. His body feels tense, his wings are tensely held on his back. He doesn’t feel like moving at all, and barely manages to curl back up when his energy leaves him again. The wings on his back feel like a burden, their ugly state makes Grian want to go into hiding and not see another person. He was broken, trash that someone forgot to take to the curb.

Amidst dark thoughts and the blankets, Grian slips in and out of restless sleep. When he’s not asleep, he stares at the wall. He feels like a broken computer, repeating the same ideas over and over, feeling worse and worse as it gets harder to quiet the thoughts down.

“No one cares about you if you can’t help them,” his brain reminds him. “You're nobody if you're not Apollo. No one trusts you. No one cares.”

He covers his head in the blankets, upset and angry at himself. “I'm useless, if I can't help people or make them safer, what's the point of it all? Why do anything at all?”

Pressure builds in his chest, something heavy and disgusting. “Im pathetic, worse than…”he hesitates as he realizes he can’t insert the name of his former nemesis, not after the past months. He lets the sentence linger.

Grian both wishes for and hates the idea of Scar or Mumbo noticing his lack of presence today. Maybe theyll realize how much of a burden he is to keep around. Will they realize it's better to drop him off at a random bus stop, send him back on his way to be dealt with by Pearl?

Mumbo would know. He left for a whole year and didn’t need him at all.

Grian surprises himself when tears burn through his eyes, forming fast enough that he doesn't process he's crying until he's struggling to catch his breath. It still hurts to remember that Mumbo did not trust him enough. Maybe he had been right to not trust him. Grian was an idiot, a fool who had to have his eyes pried open to actually see the reality of the world around him. The world was cruel, it hated him and it was right to-

Distantly, Grian hears some sort of sound behind his cries. It's only when a door is being opened that he realizes it was knocked.

“Grian?” Mumbo calls out cautiously. “Are you sleeping in?”

“Mm,” Grian hums noncommittally. Something must sound off to Mumbo, because he doesn’t retreat.

“Grian?”

“I’m fine,” Grian chokes out. “Give me a moment, I’ll- I’ll be back to-“

“Grian?” Mumbo closes the door and immediately steps further into the room, coming to kneel at his bed. “G, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

Grian frowns, face still hidden from Mumbo. He shakes his head emphatically so Mumbo can see his answer. His throat is swollen, he won't be able to talk like this.

“Are you sick?” Again Grian shakes his head. Mumbo pauses. Slowly, like a person approaching a wild animal, he asks. “Are you not feeling well?”

Grian doesn’t respond.

Mumbo waits for a long moment, before taking a deep breath.

“I can imagine what this might be about, mate, we should talk about-“ Mumbo says, and Grian curls up further into a ball. Mumbo pauses.

Tense quiet fills the room. Grian tries to suppress a sniffle but doesn't succeed. He grips his arms, trying to hold himself together, at least while Mumbo sticks around.

Mumbo shifts, more of his weight pressing against the mattress.

“Y’know what usually makes me feel better on bad days?” He asks Grian. Something light touches the bed beside him. Grian hesitates to peek at it, but Mumbo tells him what it is. “Holding a friend’s hand.”

Grian tears up again at how considerate his friend is. Consideration even for someone as undeserving as himself. He pulls away the blankets, revealing himself in the process of taking Mumbo’s hand into his own. He doesn't look at Mumbo as he sniffles and silently cries. He's overwhelmed again.

Mumbo’s hand is warm and heavy. Grian holds his hand tightly, almost scared that Mumbo will disappear. Mumbo’s thumb caresses his own idly, his hold more loose, but still caring. Grian lays there, holding Mumbo’s hand tightly until the wave passes him, his head coming up for clear air after an indeterminate amount of time.

Grian slowly, almost cowardly, looks up to find Mumbo’s face, only to see that Mumbo is already looking at him. He looks saddened, but not angry. Grian isn't sure why he expected Mumbo to be angry. Mumbo was not an angry man by nature.

“I think it works a little,” Grian says, his voice a little stronger now. He squeezes Mumbo’s hand even tighter for a beat. Mumbo smiles and sighs through his nose.

“I'm glad,” Mumbo says. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Shame fills Grian’s mind as he shakes his head. Mumbo doesn't press further

“Then, Is there anything else I can do?” He asks sincerely. “I don't like seeing you like this, Grian, it hurts me.”

“Im sorry,” Grian apologizes quickly. “You don't have to stay-“

“No, that's not what I meant,” Mumbo cuts him off. “It's just… Grian you’re my best friend,mate, I don’t want you to ever feel bad. I… y’know I really care for you. You're one of the most important people I've had the luck of ever meeting, much less become friends with, yknow?”

The words almost fall on deaf ears, Grian’s brain twisting the words against him. How unlucky, Grian mentally corrects. He means how unlucky he is he's stuck with me.

Grian struggles to quiet his brain, something Mumbo likely notices in his face. He looks conflicted, almost lost as he leans closer to Grian.

“It’s true, you're my best friend,” Mumbo insists. Grian’s mouth twists, feeling himself tear up again.

In an impulsive moment, Grian lets go of Mumbo’s hand and throws his arm up, looking at Mumbo. Mumbo hesitates for only a second before climbing into the bed and wrapping his arm around Grian. With his weight against him, Grian suddenly feels like he can breathe.

He tucks his forehead against Mumbo’s neck, soaking in the warmth of his best friend's body. It warms him where he hadn't realized he had gotten cold, something human replacing the mess of tangled emotions in him. Grian presses his entire body into Mumbo’s, clinging onto him, feeling relief in every touch Mumbo easily offers.

Mumbo’s heartbeat is loud and clear, heavy and smooth. He presses closer, almost suffocating warmth in Mumbo’s embrace.

“I love you,” Mumbo whispers into his ear. It's not the first time he's said it at this point, but it's still rare to hear this soon. “You are so, so important to me. To scar too. He told me to check on you. Wouldnt tell me why.”

Grian nuzzles him, throwing a leg over Mumbo’s. He can feel Mumbo’s heartbeat through his neck, and he concentrates on it, closing his eyes.

Scar knew he was feeling bad but hadn’t wanted to come in. Was Grian that much of a burden? Or was it that Scar knew Grian would more likely kick him out than let him close like he would Mumbo when he felt this terrible? Grian isn't sure. He feels himself starting to shake, his wings shifting and rustling. Mumbo reaches for them, but Grian pulls the betraying wings away, shaking his head. Mumbo relents, wrapping his arms tightly around his waist.

“Can we lay down like this for a while?” Grian chokes out through his guilt. “Or-“

“As long as you like,” Mumbo nods. “I don't mind.”

“…You're too nice,” Grian whispers. “I don’t deserve you, do I?”

“Grian…” Mumbo answers softly. “Don’t say that. You mean the world to me.”

It only makes Grian want to cringe more. It made him feel guilty. “You deserve someone as kind as you. Someone good.”

“You’re good,” Mumbo insists, hugging him tighter for emphasis. “Grian, you don’t understand how happy I am that you’re in my life, that you cared enough to keep looking for me after I left. It takes a good person to assume the best in others, even if we did nothing to deserve it.”

Grian frowns. “Still,” he tries to enlighten Mumbo. “That’s just the bare minimum of what you deserve, you should be with-”

“Stop it,” Mumbo’s hold loosened. “Stop talking about who deserves what. I love you. I don’t care about anybody else,” His hold shifts, one of Mumbo’s hands reaching into Grian’s hair as he pulls the avian against him. “Only you and Scar. I’m going to love you no matter what, Grian, stop trying to convince me not to!”

And Grain can’t help it. He tears up, feeling like a child. He whimpers and sobs and wipes his tears on Mumbo’s poor shirt, holding onto the shirt for his life. He’s so undeserving of this kindness, but he wants it so badly. Mumbo holds him through it, whispering little reassurances into his hair, gently combing it with his fingers. Intense and burning fondness for his friend rears its head in Grian, making him catch a sob in his throat as words spill through.

“I love you too,” Grian sobs into Mumbo’s neck. “I love you so much.”

“I know,” Mumbo kisses his hair. “I love you just as much.”

And to imagine this much love and adoration flows through Mumbo like it does Grian breaks him a little inside. Mumbo deserves so much more. He deserves a nice set of partners, with a normal home and a normal kid. Or maybe it would still be Grumbot. But if this is the life he wants, all Grian can do is count his luck and love him back more.

Grian tilts his head up and kisses the underside of Mumbo’s jaw. Mumbo leans back, tilting his chin down to look at him. The angle gives him a bit of a double chin, which Grian eagerly obliges with another kiss. Mumbo smiles at him. Grian can’t quite replicate a smile on his own face now, but he leans up and gives Mumbo’s cheek a kiss. He kisses across Mumbo’s face until the two are forehead to forehead across Grian’s pillow.

“I don’t like my wings,” Grian says quietly.

“Do you want to bleach them?” Mumbo asks.

Grian hesitates. “I’m not Apollo anymore.”

“You can still bleach them if that’s what you want, Grian,” Mumbo answers calmly, still playing with Grian’s hair, softly kneading Grian’s scalp in a way that makes him want to sigh dreamily.

“I don’t know,” Grian closes his eyes against the sensation on his scalp. It tingles pleasantly.

“Or we can dye them another color. Not white, but something different,” Mumbo suggests. “You’ll still be nice with any color of wings.”

“Pretty?” Grian asks, smiling a bit. He opens his eyes to see Mumbo roll his eyes.

“Yes, very pretty,” he corrects. “And very handsome, Grian.”

Grian smiles, leaning forward to press a kiss to Mumbo’s nose. Mumbo huffs.

“Can you stop missing already,” he says with mock annoyance. “I want to be kissed by my very pretty best friend.”

Grian smiles for a second, leaning in incrementally before the guilt makes him freeze. Mumbo closes the gap, pressing a kiss to his unmoving lips. Mumbo pulls back.

A few seconds pass before Mumbo leans up and kisses Grian’s nose. “It’s not just the wings, is it?”

Grian frowns, not meeting his eyes. Mumbo nods anyway.

“We don’t have to talk about it now if you don’t want to. But Scar and I are here when you want to,” he reminds him. “We love you, you know.”

Grian sighs. “I know.”

“We love you a lot,” Mumbo nods, pressing his nose into his hair. “Do you want to cuddle until Scar misses us and comes looking?”

Grian rolls his eyes but tucks himself into Mumbo’s shoulder, closing his eyes. His dry eyes find relief in the darkness again, this time a lot less heavy than before. Before he knows it, he starts to fade into dreamless sleep.

—------

Grian wakes to hands combing through his wings, the sensation of a loose feather being pulled giving him relief. He finds himself laying on his stomach, warmly tucked against Mumbo’s heart. More than a pair of hands make their way through his wings, bringing him pleasant warmth. He spreads his wings further with a soft groan. Mumbo stiffens under him. Scar has the opposite reaction; he laughs delightfully. The sound is full of love, especially when it gets closer, and Scar presses a small kiss to the back of Grian’s neck. Grian tenses, feeling a warm wave wash down his spine from the feeling.

“Go back to sleep, birdie,” Scar coos. “We got you. We’ll take good care of you. We’re right here.”

And for the moment before Grian falls back asleep, Grian believes him and smiles.

#mumscarian #gihasm #grumbo #theres a few typos sorry

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