Remember you - Third life fic
One life. Fundamentally everyone had one life to live, to experience, to grow through and grieve through. One life of memories could crush a person. So, what would that person do, theoretically, if they were forced to live lifetime after lifetime? Would they be building up the walls in their mind with every memory as a brick and every emotion acting as cement? Or would they be seeking ways to shatter the translucent barrier of regret and pain to free themselves from the prison of their loneliness.
Perhaps, the person left to sit in the four walls of their being would slowly unravel into something not entirely human. A monster, curious to see how far others can be pushed before they reach their breaking point and tear down the walls confiding them to their ever so pitiful existence. Morality, empathy, compassion, and commitment dissolving into niceties that are no longer necessary in day-to-day relations.
As Grian stared, vision blurred by tears at the temporary darkness that occupied the land between life and death; he began to suspect himself a marionette to the creature that despised life. The glimmering barrier, glass like and icy to the touch– showed beyond a world so vast, one couldn’t even begin to imagine the possibilities of from whence they came. What life they once lived, the people they had once been before they had been plucked away and locked in the four walls of their very own personal hell.
Fourteen people from fourteen different walks of life had been thrown together in a land where resources were limited and their days numbered. No building blocks to build themselves up from past lifetimes, only the knowledge that they had three lives before they ceased to exist. Grian had built himself up as a sand castle. Something that had been a bad idea in hindsight.
Sandcastles were beautiful after all, they represented innocence and creativity - but they were always so easy to break. With walls brittle and weak, and foundations that cracked beneath pressure. The moment Grian's thoughts became a storm all the hard work he put into establishing himself came tumbling down. And this time, this time Grian was going to take Scar down with him.
If Grian was the marionette to the monster's puppeteer, Scar was the monster's mouth piece. Manipulation, exploitation and fake empathy are what made Scar a force to be reckoned with; and as Grian slowly opened his eyes to the darkness ebbing away from his vision he decided that he wouldn't give Scar a chance to talk. His honeyed charisma was no match for the bitter bite of betrayal, not anymore.
Perched on the temporary stone tower, the duo had raised themselves above the pandemonium of conflict, the brittle aftershocks of explosions and the ever growing presence of players after their heads. Now that Scott was dead, there was no one left to distract Grian from his initial goal: to protect his best friend no matter what circumstance arose next.
“Is this where we show everyone where our true alliances lie? To each other and no one else?” Were the words Grian spoke earnestly, so full of trust and absolute faith.
“No one else,” Scar parroted, a warm and present hand clasped in his with a mirrored smile of trust.
“No one else,” Grian spat bitterly, his hurt now festering like the monster he once feared. His breaking point wasn't the fall of the desert, wasn’t the demise of his allies, but was instead the piece of paper that had slipped through his fingers. His worth, was less than one of Scar’s stupid friend passes. “No one else, huh?”
Standing rigidly, Grian wobbled unsteadily on his feet - feeling lightheaded with the insistent ringing behind his eyes and stiff with thinly veiled rage.
Grian raised a brow in confusion as Scar appeared with a hunched figure before him; grey skin, pleading crimson eyes, unkempt hair and a freshly picked purple hyacinth clutched carefully in trembling hands. He found himself wondering when the good man he called a friend would become the monster they knew he was fighting against.
“We can still be friends, right?” Scar asked tentatively, evidently nervous about the prospect of his only ally, his only friend leaving him now that he was on his last life. Smiling with acceptance, he gratefully accepted the flower that had begun to wither in Scar’s presence, willing it’s life to return so that it might bloom again.
“Of course, I still owe you my first life, remember?”
Rummaging through his emergency supply chest, Grian was thankful that he was prepared. Grasping his armour, Grian paused as his hand brushed over a dry, flaky object. The purple hyacinth was dead, lifeless and withered to a point where anybody else would have failed to recognize what it once was. What it once represented and the significance it held to him. Swallowing thickly, Grian crushed the plant beneath his foot, wedging it deeply in the gravel and sand - imaging that he was burying the fleeting feeling of forgiveness that was adrift in the storm of his mind.
"I need to find Scar and Bdubs,” was the resolute command he gave himself. Grian brushed his hair out of his eyes before he set off down the uneven halls. His pace was quick, irregular as he half walked half jogged - fueled by his blood lust and murderous intent; now submerged in the blizzard of corruption so different from the frost of danger that had crept along his skin as a malevolent green player.
Emerging from the entrance of his bunker, hidden in the side of the last remaining sand dune and facing the unchanging world border, Grian cringed as he narrowed his eyes to adapt to the blinding light. Sand clung to his clothes, gnawed at his skin and settled in his hair as he began to descend the dune. Despite never having ventured into the desert beyond the wall, Grian was familiar with the shape of the world that was but a breaths width from his own.
It was a particularly cold night as Grian leaned against the wall of the tallest turret, the red flag fluttering behind him in the dry wind, preoccupied with the struggle of trying to comprehend what mysteries the desert beyond the barrier could solve. The hair on his arms standing on edge as blurry indistinct images flashed dimly in his mind - just out of reach, where he couldn’t grasp onto them, letting names, faces, places and experiences slip through his fingers like the sand he picked at aimlessly. From below him, Grian could hear Scar returning from wherever he had gone off to, the light footsteps approaching up the stairs prompted Grian to turn around with a thin grin.
Scar’s head appeared from the doorway first - golden eyes matching the golden sand that had piled along the rim of his desert hat.
“You okay there G?” Scar asked as he settled himself at Grian’s side.
“I’m thinking, Scar. Do you remember about the world outside of this cage? Anything at all?"
"Not really. Feelings, perhaps, are things I can remember, but not very vividly. The longer I spend in my second Life, the more I forget the feelings I associated with certain people."
"What feelings do you associate with me?" Grian was looking curiously at his ally, the silhouette of the unfamiliar desert forgotten.
"The feeling of laughter," was Scar's reply. "A sort of humidity, warmth. I remember the most about you Grian, the more time I spend with you the more I seem to remember about you,"
Silence lapsed between the two of them as Grian scrutinized Scar's words, his eyes searching for any hint of a lie on his friend's face. But Scar was either too good at lying or being too sincere, as no detail betrayed him. He felt conflicted, he owed Scar his first life and knew that they got on well enough to be friends; the only person he remembered vividly enough to associate feeling with was a tall man he was sure had dark hair and tidy clothes. Was he missing something in his relationship with Scar?
"Do you think we knew each other before this all started, then?"
"Maybe. Grian, in another life I think we were very close friends."
Turning away, Grian traced the shape of the desert dunes, deciding that he'd been on the fence about Scar long enough.
"Let's be close friends in this life too then,"
Treading carefully along the gaping pit in the heart of the desert, Grian ignored the ruins of his home that shimmered in the corner of his eye. Broken arrows, collapsed wooden Walls and scattered stone marked the desert's violent history as Grian surmounted the obstacles and followed the worn path over the lava, the ravine and the cactus wall.
Having escaped the desert heat it was easier to detect the burn of bloodlust in his veins. He wasn't just hurt by Scar, he was furious with him; and Grian wanted Scar dead, permanently. He would win and would tear down Scar's grave, burning everything and anything left in his path. The grass beneath his feet muffled his footsteps and the canopy of trees, coupled with the foliage provided Grian with an extra level of cover that the desert could never provide.
So he walked slowly, sword drawn and close to his side as he listened for movement. Not daring to breathe, Grian startled as he heard approaching footsteps, a twig snap and laughter. Frozen in place, resentment sunk like a stone in his stomach. Scar had given Bdubs a free pass to kill his closest ally and he was laughing about it? Grian saw red.
Grian flung himself at an unsuspecting Bdubs, clawing and scratching at his face. Using his body weight, he shoved Bdubs to the edge of the cliff that separated the forest from the fields of flowers, and with a maniacal grin he thrust his sword through Bdubs chest then kicked him over the edge.
In his blind fury Grian had failed to register the shouts of surprise that had come from Scar, or the way he'd hurried after Bdubs, not to help him, but to kill him. Grian noticed Scar at the bottom of the cliff where Bdubs lay motionless.
"Betrayal!" Grian interrupted, spitting angrily as he advanced swiftly into the knee deep water, whacking Scar over the head with the flat of his blade. Falling backwards blindly, Scar reached his arms out in a passive motion, his voice apologetic.
"No! You betrayed me Scar, and I'm going to kill you for it!" Towering over the only other person left on the server, Grian was sure he looked the picture of hostility; flaming red eyes, knotted hair, torn desert clothes and cold iron armour. His heart was pounding so loudly in his ears, the roar of vengeance so loud that he almost didn't hear the words Scar choked out.
"You can kill me. For everything you've done to keep me alive, you can kill me, you deserve to win," with his hands raised, Scar smiled whole-heartedly at Grian, pouring all of the love he had for his friend into his submission.
Grian stumbled back, Scar's words twisted into his stomach like a knife, dislodging the icy barbs of hatred and instead giving way to a pitiful fear. Tears welled in his eyes, blurring his vision and making the world tilt.
"I- I can't, I literally can't," Sobs shook Grian's shoulders as he sank to his knees in front of Scar. Dropping his sword, Grian cupped his hands over his mouth to try and quiet his hysteria.
Scar was his friend, his only friend, the only person left of the server who would keep him from the darkness in his mind. Scar, who he had recently been able to recognise in the obscurity of his memories - dressed in a suit with a welcoming smile on his face. Oh god, Grian was going to have to either kill Scar, or get killed by Scar. They couldn't be happy like they used to be, couldn't be the friends he knew they were before the world they were now trapped in.
Gentle and tentative arms settled around Grian's shoulders, pulling him forward into a steady embrace.
"It's ok, it's ok," Scar repeated, bringing a hand up to cradle Grian's head, supporting the trembling blond as he clutched his armour desperately; as though he were afraid Scar would disappear the moment he let go. Tears welling his eyes, as he too brought Grian closer.
"I'm sorry that all this happened, I didn't mean for Bdubs to get the life pass," Scar whispered into Grian's hair, afraid to speak too loud despite nobody being around to hear them. Despite everything that had happened, he still found peace in Grian and was still ready to give up his life so that Grian could live a little longer; but as he rocked Grian gently in arms, watching the water ripple around them as they cried, he found himself wishing the moment would never end.
They held each other silently as time passed. Absorbing everything that had happened as they let the damn of their pent up emotions burst, and flood the valley of their fears. Grian spoke first, quietly.
Shuddering, Scar pulled away slightly, tears still running down his blotchy grey skin and wetting his cheeks.
"What about me do you remember?"
"The way you smiled when you did something nobody could predict, and the way you spoke when you were passionate about a project. Nothing special, just you being you,"
Scar chuckled deprecatingly, letting his arms fall from
Grian as he slumped back in defeat.
"How ironic that we only start getting to know each other properly at the very end of our time together,"
Grian said nothing, his reflection staring back at him with pinprick eyes and pale skin. They couldn't keep going on like this. Standing with finality, Grian scrubbed his eyes with his soaked sleeves and fished his sword out of the water.
"In that case why don't we end our time together properly? When we meet again, we'll know each other tenfold, both from this world and from beyond it. What do you say we go to the desert, to the tallest hill and control the world as we please?" Reaching out his hand, Grian parroted the proposal Scar had first made to him all those weeks ago.
Recognition glimmered on Scar's face as he accepted Grian's hand and hauled himself out of the water. He looked older, more grave and tired than the Scar Grian first met - but it was to be expected with the weight of their past lives pressing heavily on their hearts.
"Let's go to the desert," He agreed, as he followed Grian along the path home one final time.
"Grian! Come to the desert with me, we can make a monopoly on Sand!" Green eyed and energetic, Scar bounded around Grian animatedly, like a puppy who's owner had arrived home.
"You know the desert is massive right? It would be really difficult to stop people from just, coming in and taking sand,"
"But use your imagination, Grian! On that hill, right over there-" Scar gestured to the largest Dune, baking between the Sun and the barely visible shimmer of the barrier. "A castle! We could rule the desert together, be in command of the whole world! Don't you want that?"
"Not really," Grian shook his head, unconvinced, moving away from Scar the more he spoke. "Besides, I've already got a home and an Alliance, find someone else Scar."
"Oh come on, Grian, please? We would be so good as a team!"
"Maybe, but for now I'm not interested. Someone else might want to be your ally though, and control the flow of sand. So, good luck finding them," was Grian's nonchalant farewell. Rolling his shoulders, Grian released a breath he'd been holding - relaxing as he once again disappeared between the trees and moved back towards the communal village, Grian felt as though he'd truly dodged a bullet by shutting Scar down then and there.
"I guess it was meant to be!" Scar giggled gleefully, as he tugged the Llama forward, Grian sitting guiltily on it's back. It was his fault Scar had been killed. He'd taken the first life of the server and he couldn't turn a blind eye to it - which had landed him down shit's creak without a paddle. Already Scar was starting to get on his nerves, but his guilt far outweighed the feeling of annoyance at being constricted to Scar's side for as long as he was in the green.
"This is going to be a disaster," Grian told Scar halfheartedly, watching the colourful world around him transform from an Eden of flowers to a wasteland of sand and dry shrubbery.
"Maybe!" Scar wasn't discouraged, "But it'll be our disaster, and I know we'll make a great team!"
"Whatever you say Scar, Whatever you say." Grian dismounted Pizza and scrutinized the area he had to work with. Already the sand was digging uncomfortably into his skin, getting caught in all his heavy clothes and getting tangled in his hair. Muttering complaints to himself, Grian added 'desert clothes' to his mental list of things to do.
"Hey grian! Come look at the view from up here!" Scar yelled down to him enthusiastically. Tilting his head, to watch his new ally pace curiously across the summit of the dune, he felt the ghost of a smile tracing his lips. Perhaps he could make this work.
After all, what's the worst that could happen?
