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“Impulse.” Skizz called to him from behind. Impulse turned from lining and counting their flashlights. They’ve found the ghost, figured it’s a Revenant, and decided to leave before it got bloody. Besides, they’ve already gone quite a few rounds, and he could only figure Grian and Scar were tired.
He was right. Grian was exhausted. He was laying on Scar’s shoulder, seemingly asleep. Scar was deep into the little thing he’d brought with him, some spin-off Star Wars pocket game that he’d not been able to put down since he got it. If it weren’t for his clinginess to Grian, he wouldn’t have gotten up to find the ghost at all.
Impulse smirks. He was happy knowing Grian was comfortable enough to fall asleep so near them, knowing they haven’t known him as long as Mumbo or Scar has. He sort of just appeared one day, nobody knew where he came from, but being around him long enough Skizz could tell he didn’t come from a good place. Impulse wondered if he ever got the freedom to be vulnerable around people before he came there, based on his actions, sometimes Impulse thought he’d maybe not have anyone at all like that. Had he any parents? Parental figures? People he could trust?
Scar looked content where he was, and they both knew he wouldn’t be budging for the rest of the van drive back. However, Grian was sure to fall where they got on the road in his position, and definitely wake up with a back as stiff as the bodies left under the cabins in the Maple Lodge map.
Skizz looks over at him, and in proper husband fashion, they exchanged the same idea in their eyes. “I’ll grab him, you start the van?” Skizz whispered. Impulse nodded.
Skizz reached for Grian and looped his arms under his legs and back. Impulse smiled when he saw Grian lean into Skizz’s chest.
“We’ll be in the front, okay? Walkie-talkie me if you need anything.” Impulse patted Scar’s back, and turned to follow Skizz when he got a humm in response. He and Skizz, now holding a very asleep Grian, walk out the back of the van and close the pulldown door of the cargo bed. One day they’ll get a truck that isn’t 2 separate sections, maybe one with an opening so Impulse and Skizz could talk to Scar and Grian as they drove, but at the moment the separation was handy. They could keep an eye on Grian, who, for the first time, seemed to let his guard down around them. Impulse could tell Skizz was also surprised about this as he lifted himself, and then Grian, to the passenger seat of the truck. The steps were nearly 5 feet above the ground, and Impulse had to grab Skizz’s hand to help him up.
“This is crazy,” Skizz whispered to him. Impulse grinned, nodding.
“I–” Impulse spoke a little louder. He was testing the water on how asleep Grian was, on how quiet or loud they could be.
Skizz smiled at him. He tucked Grian’s head into his chest, and due to his size, easily laid on Skizz’s lap. It was the most contact either had gotten from him. Ever since Grian had flinched at that one time Impulse had only put his hand on his chest, they both took notice of the way he interacted with the world around him. Especially Skizz, being the mind-reader that he is, could easily read some of his struggles. Impulse had learned a lot from what Skzz had figured out, and they both had come to the conclusion that his childhood was something between non-existent, a parentified version of himself, or a painful and abusive one. A thing neither wanted to talk about but both thought. He struggled to let his guard down for anyone, he never let anyone help him if it were anything more than a little task. He could easily gain control of a situation, be it suppressing or hiding it. Skizz being Skizz, and Impulse being a caring, concerned friend of his, they both set off to do anything they could for Grian; because after so many years of being in Hermitcraft, Mumbo or Scar never seemed to notice.
And now,
Now.
“All of our work seemed to come together now,” Impulse smiled. He turned the keys below the steering wheel and the loud hum of the engine filled the air.
“I really hope we can help.”
“However we can,” Skizz reached for his hand and they gave each other a fateful smile.
“This has to be a Polty.” Impulse said. Skizz hummed in agreement.
“Do you want to grab a cruci and see if you can bring it through the Polty pile?” Grian offered.
Impulse nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah.”
“I’ll grab it,” Skizz said. “You two set everything up. Maybe we can use the Monkey Paw and save some time.”
Grian went to grab as many plates as he could hold to drop onto the floor next to the small pile already made. Impulse grabbed piles of forks and spoons to join the shattered plates below them. Once they were satisfied with the Polty pile, Grian went to find the Monkey Paw. He and Skizz both arrived back to toss him the paw and crucifix, before swiftly making it outside to the van. Impulse picked up the Monkey Paw from where it had been set down on the table and took a deep breath.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw two heads peering out from the kitchen window. Skizz and Grian were giggling to themselves as they watched Impulse give them a sarcastic look.
He turned away to grab the crucifix and start the hunt. “I wish–” he started. The Monkey Paw curled in his grip and sent shivers down his spine. No matter how much he played this game, it never failed to put him on edge. “–to see the ghost.”
The lights shut off and the room went dark. The distant sound of the door locking and the sudden pounding in his ears flooded his senses
Impulse rushed to the corner of the table, and kept his eyes locked on the paths in front of him. The first glimpse of the ghost was to his right, and he tumbled to the side. It flashed a couple more times before he had a clear view of the horrific monster in front of him. Its mouth was torn to its ears, rotting flesh decorated its arms and legs and– Skizz was cracking up behind him. Grian was grinning like he'd just cracked the best joke known to mankind and Impulse’s curiosity peaked at the way Skizz could not stop cracking up. It was impossible to do anything around these two.
He glared dryly at the two. The ghost grew closer and Impulse leaped to the side to dash in the direction of the Polty Pile. It stumbled over top of it and, as they expected, threw 2 shards of plates at the same time.
“It’s a Polty!” Impulse shouted, throwing his hands in the air in celebration. The ghost seemed to dislike the racket, however, and suddenly sped up. At the level they were playing at, it still wasn't very fast, but enough to make Impulse panic.
He dashed over to the other side of the kitchen to go roundabouts around the table until the hunt ended. He ran past the open kitchen drawer, and saw the ghost reach for one of the utensils. He saw it pull out a knife, and Impulse laughed.
“It’s gettin’ creative!” He shouted to Skizz and Grian behind the window. Of course, the ghost was not going to kill him through a knife. No ghost they have come across ever threw things at them, let alone a knife, for they seemed to hunger for the living bodies rather than the death of a steel blade.
To his surprise, though, the knife came flying right at him. It didn’t give aim, for it was most definitely a mere coincidence it was in his direction, but it was close. “Woah!” He jumped to the side. If it weren’t for all the arrows of the LIfe series thrown at him, he’d not be able to dodge it in time.
The stutter he’d in his stride was enough for the Poltergeist, however, because as soon as he was able to get out of the way of the blade, hands wrapped around his neck and eyes and his neck snapped in half.
“Impulse!” Skizz shouted, laughing. “I’ve never seen that happen before.”
“He–” Grian’s smile dropped. He wasn’t laughing or smiling or enjoying anything anymore. Skizz immediately took notice.
“You okay G?” He asked.
Grian didn’t answer. He bore inscrutable eyes into Impulse’s dead body. Skizz had seen that look only a few times, when Scar had asked something about Grian’s past, in which he went completely silent, and another when Impulse offered him his headphones when he got bored in the truck ride. He didn’t understand what was so hard about taking the headphones, but he wasn’t about to question trauma.
Now this. They’ve watched Impulse die before, he didn’t understand what was so different about this one. The knife?
Had Grian been stabbed before?
The thought made him fume. He was only so young when he joined Hermitcraft, even if Skizz wasn’t around back then, between visiting Impulse and stories he’d heard he’d learned that he was only a few years older than Gem, the youngest of the Hermits. Whatever had happened, because he was sure it wasn’t from Hermitcraft, had happened when he was a young teen.
“Grian.” He put his hand on Grian’s shoulder. He didn’t react to it, taking that as either a good or a bad sign, either way. “You okay buddy?”
No answer. Skizz saw a gleam of tears in his eyes. He turned away and the cuff of his red sweater came to wipe the tears away. “Sorry–” he choked.
Skizz’s heart immediately dropped to his stomach. He hated seeing this. Immediately he wanted to hug him and never let him go, in proper Skizz fashion, but he knew that only goes for Impulse and Tango. He didn’t know how Grian was about touch just yet.
But he didn’t know how else to comfort him.
Impulse was dead, and no doubt that he was watching, painful as this was. So Skizz took the leap and put his hand on the back of Grian’s head, gently tucking him into Skizz’s chest. Thankfully, to his relief, Grian didn’t seem to resist. Skizz wrapped his arms around his shoulders.
Skizz had no idea what had triggered him, but he knew both him and Impulse would do anything for Grian, including letting Impulse stay a ghost for a little bit until Skizz can get Grian into the van.
Grian leaned into the hug. His hands were shaking.
Skizz leaned out of the hug to lead him to the back of the van, with hand on his back. He sat down, gestured for Grian to follow, and pressed the ‘end game’ button. The door closed behind them and Impulse respawned on the floor of the van. Skizz could tell by the look in his eyes that he saw everything as a ghost. He was quick to sit next to Grian and lift him up to sit him on his lap. Grian curled up and wrapped his arms around Impulse’s neck.
Impulse gave Skizz a concerned look over Grian’s shoulder. They were all quiet, but he was sure they both were thinking the same thing. This was new.
Very new.
And they neither planned to back out, because he needed this.
A grumble comes from beside him. Impulse wakes up to pitch black, the inability to see anything halters his desire to get up. He was a deep sleeper, and often never woke up at night.
“Door.” Skizz grumbled beside him. He was sprawled out on the bed in a t-shirt and shorts, so barely awake Impulse was surprised he could form words.
Impulse sat up. The window to the outside was pitch black, and in the distance he could barely make out the stars of the Hermitcraft server. Wait. The brain fuzz of sleep withered away just enough to process what Skizz had mumbled. Door?
Like– the front door?
Sure enough a knock came to the door. The sound cut through the silence of the night, startling them both. Skizz kicked Impulse’s leg from under the covers, a forced invitation to get the door. He grumbled. Who could possibly be knocking on the door at this hour?
As he got up, he saw a glimpse of the person through the peephole. He couldn’t tell who it was, but it was someone short. As he reached for the bone-chillingly cold doorknob, he caught another glimpse of the person, and large wings behind them. Suddenly, in realisation that this was not, in fact, Tango needing help on another one of his late night contraptions, he yanked the door open and was met with Grian. If it weren't for the moon’s gleam he wouldn’t have caught the tears in his eyes. Quickly he forgot any curse to the time of night and let him in from the cold.
Grian stuttered, his wings pulled tightly against his back. “I couldn’t sleep…”
Impulse smiled. He’d come to them.
“Alright. Come here, I’m sure Skizz wouldn’t mind,” he led Grian to their bed and let him crawl into the covers. He was so tired to really think anything past getting everyone comfortable and sleeping, so thankfully Skizz had woken up enough to welcome him in. Impulse crawled in next to him, and his eyes closed as Grian’s head rested on his chest.
Waking up the next day was weird, for Impulse at the least. As per usual, he woke up first, ready to get coffee going and make something for Skizz, until he’d be off to build with Bdubs in the Cyber City. That’s what’s happened since the beginning of Season 10, since Skizz was finally here with him and they could actually spend their nights together. But this time he woke up with Grian’s head on his chest, and large parrot wings covering him and Skizz. For a moment Impulse saw a gleam of old tears from yesterday.
He smiled, and gently ran his fingers through Grian’s red and yellow feathers, causing him to twitch in his sleep. His wings came up to unconsciously stretch and cover Impulse’s face, giving him a mouthful of feathers.
Impulse laughs. He gently takes the wings to move them lower. Grian’s eyes opened a little bit to look at him, as his wings came up to cover Impulse’s face again. He smirks at him.
“Morning,” Impulse said. Grian grinned.
“G’morning.”
“Care for some breakfast?” Impulse offered, gesturing to outside the bed.
Grian got the message and got up before Skizz could be woken by their racket. Impulse led him to the kitchen, a small extension of the little house they’ve been staying in. He turned around to watch Grian follow while he reached for the coffee maker.
Grian walked to stand next to him, and watched as Impulse took the coffee grounds from the little container and poured them into the machine. A cup of water later and it made a low rumble. The cup under it began to fill.
Impulse turns to Grian, and ruffles his hair. “Your hair is a mess,” he comments.
Grian giggles. Not like a cute thing, not like Skizz, but like a little kid. And suddenly Impulse wanted nothing less to hear that again.
“How’d ya feel about coffee, G?”
“Do you have any tea?”
“Um–” he already knew the answer as he glanced into the cabinets “No. None of that.”
“Hmm. I guess coffee works.”
Impulse gave him a nod. “You don’t have any allergies, do you? Any food you hate, or anything?”
Grian shook his head. “No. Why?”
“I usually make breakfast for myself and Skizz each morning, but I wanna make sure you can have it.”
“What?” Grian puts his hands out. He suddenly seemed more awake. “No, no. You don’t have to make anything for me. I’m perfectly fine making something for myself, and–”
Impulse cut him off. “G.”
“No, seriously, it’s fine, I didn’t mean to–”
“Grian.” He pulled him into his chest. “It’s alright. It’s okay.” Once he was satisfied Grian wouldn’t be arguing anymore, mostly because he can’t talk tucked into his chest, he let go. “It’s okay. Let us take care of you.”
Behind him the door to the kitchen swung open slowly and Skizz walked in. Through his eyes Impulse could tell he’d heard everything, and they both were sure neither knew what was going on.
Everytime they seemed to lose hope in helping Grian open up, they found a new trigger or weakness. Each more heartbreaking and question-raising than the next. This time was different, though. He came to them. It wasn’t brought up by any of GIGS crew, and Grian certainly didn’t chose to cry in the middle of a ghost hunt, but that’s the way it was, and Impulse and Skizz decided to step forward to be the people he needed in that moment, and he finally came to them.
And Grian must have picked up on one of their eye-conversations because he looked between them, trying to figure out what they were doing.
“You guys do that thing where you talk with your eyes.” Grian comments. “Like an old married couple.”
"Technically–" Skizz shot him a warning glare. Nevermind.
Skizz walked past them both to grab the newly made coffee. He pulled out their container of sugar and dumped half a cup in, before taking a sip.
“Hey. That’s mine!” Impulse exclaimed.
“It’s mine now,” Skizz side-eyed him, shrugging.
Grian came up to lean on Skizz’s chest as he drank his coffee. His eyes were closed, and he was completely silent.
Impulse’s eyes met his. They both shared a ‘what the hell’ moment between them, and panic and surprise turned into excitement. They both got exactly what they wanted.
And, through their magic eye-conversations, they both decided exactly what they wanted to do.
“Impulse!” A distant voice called to him from the streets of Cyber City. He’s been detailing this freaking wall for the entire day, and the sudden change of scenery, also known as the other side of the street, made his head dizzy.
“Grian?” He called back. The familiar parrot wings dragged behind him. The sight of his– what was he? He surely was too close to be a friend, he wouldn’t welcome him in to sleep in their bed every night if it were anyone else. But he’d never, ever, think of ever dating him. He was married, of course. “Over here!”
Guess it’s something to talk about with Skizz.
Grian excitedly beat his wings, launching himself in Impulse’s direction. He took flight for a second, and ended up stumbling in his direction. As he got closer, Impulse reached his hands out, half in welcoming and half in alarm. Grian landed right in his arms, the impact forcing his wings forward to cocoon them both. “Impulse!”
“Yeah? Quite the entrance there buddy,” he said as he let Grian down from his arms.
Grian excitedly nods. “Okay, I have something I want to tell you, but I want Skizz to be there too.”
Impulse nods, struggling to keep up with the excitement. “Sure. Want me to text him?”
“Yeah!”
“Okay. Give me a moment,” he pulled out his communicator and wrote out a text to Skizz. Hey, Grian came over and he says he really wants to tell us something. Can you come over?
As he suspected, he got a response immediately. OMW.
“He says he’s on his way. Here, there's a little shop Bdubs built a little bit ago if you wanna sit while we wait.”
Grian nods.
Impulse led him over to an open seated area. As they walked, Grian grabbed onto his arm. The touch made him smile. As much as Grian had slowly been more and more comfortable with them, he did enjoy the little things. At one point he’d grabbed both their hands, and swung them between the three like a kid. Impulse had caught him at one point arguing with Gem after she'd referred to them as dads. Something about that had made him defensive.
“I’m here!” Skizz called. His angel wings followed him as he glided down to meet them.
“Hey Skizz!” He beckoned him over to take the last seat. Once he was sat and they were both able to give Grian their full attention, he started.
“So–” his feet swung under the table. “I was thinking since… uhm, we’ve, like, been getting closer n’ stuff,” Impulse snook a glance at Skizz. He had this expression on his face, of a love and affection that Impulse couldn’t recall ever seeing before. Other, than maybe, on him. “I kind of wanted to… come out to you.”
Impulse turned back to him. Come out? Like, from the closet?
Skizz smiled, urging him to continue. “I’m gay.”
A moment of silence cut through the air, not in an uncomfortable way, but Impulse was searching for the best way to answer. He had a feeling, and it’s not like it changed the way he looked at Grian, but he didn’t want to say something that sounded like ‘I don’t care’, because he couldn’t care about him more.
“Thank you for trusting us with this information. You know we’d support you no matter what?” Skizz said.
Grian grinned. “Yeah.”
Impulse was married to another man… maybe it wouldn't hurt to explore labels himself. Suddenly an idea popped into his head.
“Hey, Grian!” He called. He watched as Grian stuck his head out from the door of the bathroom.
“Yeah?”
“I got something for you.”
“Okay, hold on.” Grian set down his toothbrush he’d brought to their house around the 4th time he’d come to them. “What is it?”
Grian crawled onto the bed next to Impulse as he reached into the drawer of the bedside table. He pulled out a little black box, and handed it to Grian. “Here.”
Grian curiously took, swinging his leg off the bed impatiently. He opened it to see a little cushioned ring. His eyes widened. It looked expensive. Like, very much. The outside was lined with gold and diamond, and while it wouldn’t be hard to get, the detail and casting must have cost a ton .
He took it out and held it to his finger. “And look–” Impulse pointed to the inside of the ring. “I got a little pride flag to go inside.” A little rainbow decorated the inside of the ring, that way he could show his support without Grian having to take it off everytime he didn’t want to be outed if someone saw it.
“Wait– how?” Grian asked. “Did you go to another server to buy it? Did you make it?”
“No,” Impulse laughed. “All credit goes to Gem. After I found out she does jewellery, I immediately asked her to make something for me.”
“How much was it?”
“Don’t worry about it. Bdubs pays for most of our materials anyways.”
“Thank you,” Grian said, wrapping his arms around Impulse’s waist for an awkward hug. His wings draped over their legs, and Impulse patted his head in welcome.
Skizz came to sit next to them, and slumped down onto his pillow. “Long day?” Impulse asked.
“Yep,” he dragged out. “Bed now?”
“It’s 5. We haven't even eaten dinner yet.”
“Shut up.”
Impulse laughs. He gets up to pull something together as he usually does for the three of them, and Skizz follows him. Grian stayed in the bedroom.
“Nice of you to get Grian that gift,” he said.
“Yeah, “ Impulse responded. “Actually–” he debated how to say it. “I got something for you too.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” Skizz walked over to meet him.
“It’s uhm, well I realised we’ve been married for a few years now. 5… to be exact.”
“Oh. I didn’t even realise.”
“Yeah, well, we kind of walked down to the courthouse on a tuesday. It’s not exactly a very memorable experience like most weddings are.”
“Mm. That’s true.”
“I don’t regret it though. Even if we don’t tell anyone.”
“I didn’t want anyone to feel like they weren't invited or something. It’s just a promise of friendship. I don’t know how to describe that to someone.”
“Other than Tango. But he’d definitely find out at some point if we didn’t tell him.”
“Mhm. Well I thought maybe you could use a new ring. Something more… I dunno.”
Skizz definitely looked confused. “Okay. Uh– thanks?”
A silence fell through the room. Impulse didn’t know what else to say. “Do you ever wish that maybe… we were…”
He trailed off and Skizz’s eyes widened. “Are you… suggesting…”
“I dunno. I was wondering if you wanted to try something, uhm, more?” The silence spoke to it all. A swirl of anxiety and regret left a pit in his stomach. “Sorry. This was a bad idea. Just pretend I didn’t–”
“Impulse.” He turned around, meeting face to face with Skizz, who was grinning. “Are you kidding?”
The surprise of seeing him happy after the atrocity he had just stumbled through made him very confused. “What?”
“It took you years , dipple dop!”
“I don’t get it.”
“Have you seen me date a single person since we met?”
“Well… no.”
“I’m sorry, have you seen me with Tango, or Zed? Versus with you? You're an idiot. An oblivious idiot.”
Impulse’s jaw dropped. “Wait– so you– you’re–”
Skizz put his hand out, and pulled him in. Impulse felt the blood rush to his face as he was yanked right in front of his face and–
The door to the kitchen swung open, so fast that the boom of it hitting the wall shook the whole floor.
“You're married? ” Grian shouted at the top of his lungs.
“We’re the worst!” Tango threw his hands up. Etho laughed behind him. They were staring at the MCC leaderboard, and they placed proudly at 10th, last.
“Not only that, but all 4 of us are dead last,” Skizz pointed out. They were all laughing. “37th, 28th, 39th and 40th.”
“Loud and proud.”
“I was the best of us though,” Etho remarks. “Technically, I’m the best out of the team.”
“Oh, I’m sorry mister OG Minecraft, didn’t know we were playing that game. Technically–”
“Alright, alright,” Impulse threw his hands out between Skizz and Etho. “It’s all fun and games.”
“Best MCC I’ve done so far,” Tango smiles triumphantly.
“You came dead last.” Impulse glares at him.
“After you!”
“Only 5 minutes after finishing and you all are already at each other's throats.” Scott walked over to him.
“That’s what she said–” Tango mutters under his breath. Skizz gave him a jab in the side.
“Uh, Impulse and Skizz, False wanted me to tell you that your… son asked for you.”
Skizz paused.
“You have a son?” Tango asked.
“No. Who would she be talking about–”
“Grian.” Skizz cut him off.
“Oh. Shit, we should probably go.” Impulse blurted. “I’ll see you later?” He waved to Etho and Tango.
They gave them confused looks, but awkwardly waved back. Nonetheless. “That was weird,” he heard Tango say as they dashed to the portal to Hermitcraft.
“This way,” Skizz signalled. Impulse shouted a thanks to Scott as they hopped through and spawned on the top of Magical Mountain. The familiar weight of their armour and elytra came back, Impulse could feel his tail swinging behind him subconsciously.
Looking around, they both realised neither knew where he was. Skizz, being as quick as he was, pulled out his communicator. He typed something, and a buzz of his own came from his pocket. You alright G? Skizz sent in a chat between him and Grian. Coordinates? Impulse added. After a moment another notification came to the both of them. [Grian has sent you their location.]
Impulse and Skizz made eye contact, before launching off into the sky, nearly in sync. Impulse followed Skizz as he followed the map, and sure enough Grian was at his own base. “Maybe we should have checked here first,” Impulse commented. “Would’ve been easier.”
Skizz cracked the door to Grian’s base. It was nearly empty inside, but the light from the window let enough light in to see. In the corner, red and yellow feathers were wrapped around what they could assume was Grian.
They both rushed over to sit down next to him. His wings slowly lowered, and Impulse immediately saw that he was shaking. Tears streamed down his face. Skizz gave a look of concern and surprise, and Impulse returned it. He pulled Grian in by the waist and wrapped his arms around his shoulders. Grian went limp in his hold, and rested his head on Impulse’s chest.
After a while they had gotten used to comforting him in times like these, but this time they had no idea what had triggered him. Skizz worried that something was happening on the Hermitcraft server, because it’s been so long since he’s been in a series that Impulse or Skizz haven't been in as well. In fact, they're sure that he hasn’t been on any server that wasn't in their inner circle of friends, the Hermitcraft, Empires and Life Series members specifically, since season 6.
Grian sniffled in his lap. It seemed like the tears had stopped, but he hadn’t moved or said anything. Skizz ran his fingers through Grian’s left wing’s feathers, and his shoulders untensed.
“Grian?” Skizz whispered. Grian shuffled in Impulse’s lap to face Skizz. “Do you want to… talk about it?”
Grina gave him a fazed look. Impulse continued. “This isn’t the first time this has happened. Which isn’t a problem, and we’d do anything for you, but… maybe, talking about it… wouldn’t hurt?”
A few seconds pass, and Skizz and Impulse make eye contact. Skizz definitely was thinking the same thing as him. Please, oh please, talk to us .
A minute passed, and then another. And then finally Grian spoke up. “When I was 14 my parents sent me away to Japan.” Impulse widened his eyes. He’s talking to them. “I think my mom wanted me to get away from my father. I barely remember anything back then.”
Okay. Abuse. That was a factor that played into it. “But there I had a friend, I guess you could call him. He… uhm. He had some problems. Whenever our friend– his best friend– Taurtis, left, he would go totally insane.”
It took him a while to keep going. This was a while ago, he was surprised Grian could remember so much. He was, like, 21.
“One of our teachers hung himself in a classroom. I guess that’s where it started.” Impulse’s jaw dropped. “And then one night, he…” Grian sniffled. “He stabbed Taurtis. He called it a joke. And then we were going home, and he bled out and we crashed…”
Skizz was stunned. He had no idea what to say. He couldn't imagine ever going through that. “And Sam couldn’t handle it, and he went… insane. He made me Taurtis. He made me wear his clothes and eat the thing he ate and when Taurtis came back he didn’t recognize him…”
“A little bit after I was able to fix it, his girlfriend went insane. We followed her to the top of the school and she jumped off. She died.” Impulse bit his tongue. This was insane. “Sam, Taurtis, another friend of ours and I all were brought to a different city in witness protection. The next year or so… it got so much worse… I–”
He choked a sob and Impulse pulled him in again. “I never saw my parents again.”
Impulse’s hand balled up knots into his shirt. “You never saw them again?”
Grian nodded. “After, I was pulled into Evolutions SMP just to get away from Sam. I tried going back home but the server I grew up on was gone. It got deleted and I don’t think there’s a chance I can find them again. I learned how to cook and care for myself pretty quickly, though. And I did a lot of that back with my parents too. I don’t think I ever got the attention that everyone else got from their parents. I always just stay with a group from Empires who don’t have family either for the holidays.”
Skizz grabbed his hand in comfort. “I’m sorry.”
“‘S Not your fault.”
“I know. But that shouldn’t have happened to you. I wouldn’t wish that upon anyone…”
Impulse nodded in agreement. “Yeah.” He paused. “Do you want some pancakes?”
Grian giggled. “What?”
“Pancakes. I got the stuff to make some for tomorrow morning, but I feel like maybe I should make them now.” He said. So they did. They made pancakes, and ate them, and went to bed, and Impulse held him– both of them– tighter that night.
“Are you sure? This is going to work?” Skizz asked.
Impulse nodded. “I promise. This is exactly what he needs from us.”
“Okay. Alright. Let’s try this.”
Skizz took off first, while Impulse grabbed at his rockets to launch him in the air. Catching up with Skizz and Grian while flying always took so much of his rockets, and it was a big relief when he opened his inventory to the new rockets had just bought from Cub the other day.
Skizz circled the area above Grian and Gem’s base. It was pitch black out. Thankfully the light from the powerlines allowed him to see the reflection from Skizz’s iridescent wings.
Impulse signalled to the light coming from inside Grian’s storage system.
They both flew down to find Grian absentmindedly rummaging through chests. “Looking for something?” Skizz asked. Grian jumped.
“Uh– no, just trying to make it decently organised before the big ol’ mega base. Y’know.”
“No, I don’t, but sure,” Skizz comments.
“Welcome to Hermitcraft,” he responded sarcastically. “Need something?”
“Yeah.” Impulse said. Grian raised his eyebrows. “You.”
“Me?”
“Mhm. We have a surprise for you,” Impulse grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the cover of the weird diagonal building.
Grian had got the message and extended his wings to follow them, and the three made their way back to Skizz’s place, the place where the three of them had been sleeping for the past few days. When Skizz joined Hermitcraft, finally, Impulse had skipped making his own base of sorts and had settled staying with him instead.
They landed in front of the large S, and Impulse watched as the two landed elegantly behind him. They both fold their wings at the same time, remarkably similar.
Skizz walked up to him, sharing a hopeful smile. They interlocked hands, making Grian scrunch his nose. “You guys make me feel single sometimes.”
“Maybe if you left the fishing dock you’d find somebody too.”
“You can do it. We believe in you.” Skizz added, and Grian scowled.
“C’mon.”
Grian followed them into the living room, where the bed in the middle was gone.
“Woah. Where’d everything go?”
“We added another floor,” Impulse responded. He pointed to the ceiling above them and the staircase to their left.
“But that’s not the thing we wanted to show you,” Skizz said. He tapped Grian’s shoulder to direct him over to a door behind the couch. For once in the season their house was finally decorated.
Grian watched as Skizz brought him over to the door, pausing when he reached for the door knob. “So, me and Impulse finally did the interior in here. And… we thought, that maybe, you’d appreciate a place where you could come whenever you’d like… and…”
He cracks the door open. Inside there was a bed draped with dark red bed sheets, the same colour as the rug and curtains. On the bedside table sat a red parrot plush. “Wait–” Grian asked. “This is for me? Like the room?”
“Yeah. All yours, kid,” Impulse said.
Grian grinned. “Really?”
“Mhm,” Skizz smiled.
“Thank you!” Grian exclaimed. He wrapped his arms around the both of them, pulling them into a hug.
“And, hey,” Impulse started. “Next time holidays come around… maybe we could, I dunno, figure something out.”
Grian looked up at them in awe. Impulse could tell he knew where they were getting at. “Yeah! Yeah, that’d be really great I–” he burst out. “Thank you!”
“We love you, kid.”