The Void's Song.- Desert Duo. (slow updates)

Alone.

The Hermits were a closely-knit group. Most of them had some kind of trauma, or were abandoned by the world in one way or another. They talked about that trauma a lot, sharing their stories, having group therapy sessions, shit like that. They bonded over it. There were no "expectations" that you would reveal all your secrets or anything, people just did.

Grian didn't.

People on the Hermitcraft server knew what pain is like. They aren't gonna make you talk about it if you didn't want to. Grian was heavily thankful for that, he wasn't used to sharing his feelings with others, he was one to bottle up everything inside and hope that he never snapped and let it all spill out. It mightn't have been very healthy, but it was how he did things. He liked secrets.

He always was alone, in one regard or another. It was as he were the only one to wear a costume to a Halloween party. That never happened though of course, for the majority of hermits lived for dressing up and being dramatic. More likely, he would be with a group of people. Someone would start crying randomly, muttering nothings and nonsense. Everyone would crowd around, whispering words of comfort and encouragement. Grian would sit there, at a loss as to what to do. He didn't know how to help. He never let people help him, never even see that he was suffering.

He was alone. He was alone when he joined the world, seeing people spawn in around him and shout words of confusement at his unannounced arrival. He was alone when he discovered that the mycelium that the resistance was harbouring had potentially harmful effects. He was alone in his guilt when Scar dragged him towards a desert on a llama. He was alone when he began to see visions of his past after not sleeping for weeks. He was alone when he realised that no players from the second death game had remembered him, even though he didn't remember them either. He was alone in his little alchemist boot when he had a mental breakdown a couple weeks ago. He was alone.

He knew that people loved him, they told him so, constantly. He had a support system, people willing to help him. He didn't truly believe it though, didn't let himself believe it. Didn't let down all his walls. He had asked for help a few weeks ago, went to X and explained a few things. Nothing too detailed, and X suggested he go to one of the group therapy sessions that Gem, Pearl, and Impulse held occasionally. And he did. He talked. And clearly, that had been the wrong thing to do. If only he had kept his mouth shut. If only he had kept bottling up his emotions. If only he kept his walls high, and guarded them with his life. Then maybe. Just maybe, this wouldn't be happening.

They woke in a circle. A ring around a book, a lectern this time, no enchanter. A scene so familiar yet so strange. There were 20 in total, more than ever before. He had confided in them, asked them for help. Now they knew, so now they'd been dragged in as well.

Gem. Jimmy. Pearl. Scott. Tango. Iskall. Doc. Bigb. Ren. Martyn. Cleo. Etho. Impulse. Mumbo. Joel. Lizzie. Bdubs. Xisuma. Scar. Grian. The circle was wide enough for Grian to see all their faces, their reactions and confusion. Scott in particular, held an expression of dread.

The others stood up, some of them conversing, asking questions, others splitting off and gathering wood. Scar stumbled towards Grian, unsteady on his feet. He was shaking. He had a right to be. He held eye contact with Grian for a beat, unspoken words passing between them. It was an art that they'd masted long ago, without realising.

They're back.

I think so.

Well shit.

Yeah.

And Grian was so glad that they still had that level of communication. That they were still them. He haad been so worried when he awakened that maybe the Watchers would throw them for some kind of loop. Had been so scared that they would do something like wiping their memories or something of the sort.