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5. Adding To The Drama

CWs/TWs: sa (PLEASE be super careful about this!! There's a scene where it starts to happen and there will be an extra warning before the scene so you can skip it if need be), PTSD, referenced character death

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"Can we talk?" Mumbo said quietly, pulling Grian aside after leaving the security office. He shifted awkwardly when Grian glared at him. "Look, I just want to figure things out. Obviously you're pissed at me. I just want to work this out so it's not a problem anymore."

Grian sighed. "Later," he said, turning away. "We have a job to do right now-"

"No, I want to do this now!" Mumbo snapped, moving to stand in Grian's way. He didn't miss the way Grian flinched. "You can't just dismiss the problem and not expect it to get worse!"

Grian rolled his eyes. "We're not partners right now, Mr. Jumbo," he said with a sassy attitude, "we're coworkers. I'd appreciate if you'd respect that." He walked around Mumbo and grabbed Impulse by the hand, practically dragging him down the hallway. "Stupid asshole," he muttered as he let go of Impulse's hand to storm away, grumbling about how awful Mumbo was.

Impulse blinked and glanced back at Mumbo, who was facing the opposite direction. He sighed and jogged to catch up with Grian. "Dude," he said, reaching for Grian's hand. "Hey, stop!"

Grian listened and Impulse bumped into him. "What."

Impulse quirked a brow, confused at how quickly Grian had lost his temper. "What the hell is going on between you two?" he asked. "I mean- I understand why you were upset with what happened at the airport, but... What- What is going on?"

"Nothing," Grian said simply, turning his head away. "Now can we do our jobs please?"

The taller man sighed. "I guess, but I really think you should calm down before we get to work," he suggested. "If you're not in your right mind-" Grian started to walk away. "Wha- Hey!" Impulse jogged after him. "Grian!"

"I'm perfectly fine, Impulse," Grian snapped. "I'm- fine... I'm fine." He looked down at the floor. "I'm fine."

Impulse sighed. "Repeating that a million times isn't reassuring," he said gently. "Frankly, it makes me think you're not alright even more than before."

Grian looked up to glare at Impulse. "Can you stop goading?" he said more than asked. "It's really annoying."

"Grian, it's like you said," Impulse started, making Grian quirk a brow at him. "We're at work and we have a job to do. Let's be professional. So drop whatever you're upset about and-"

"I can't just drop it!" Grian shouted, earning glances from down the hall. He looked like he was going to cry. "Mumbo is an awful person! He's a disrespectful asshole and he's treating Scar horribly all because of me! He's blaming Scar for what happened when I'm the one who raped Scar!"

Everything went quiet.

He couldn't believe he just said that for everyone to hear.

Impulse looked horrified, like Grian had killed somebody in the most gruesome way possible. "You... raped Scar?" he asked timidly.

Grian sobbed. "Yes," he answered quietly. "I did, and I feel horribly about it. And it nearly ended years of friendship between me and Scar!" He hiccuped. "I don't know why Scar didn't say anything about it being my fault." He paused, then murmured, "I wasn't even drunk."

Scar stared at Grian, tears springing to his eyes at the memory. He wrapped his arms around himself and pursed his lips. He hated thinking about it and now that Grian had said it out loud for the first time, all he could do was think about it.

Mumbo also stared at Grian, though in utter disbelief. He couldn't comprehend what could've possibly gone through Grian's mind to make him actually rape Scar. He couldn't fathom what kind of reason he'd have to do something so... so awful. He didn't even want to think about why. Taking a deep breath, he said quickly, "I need to go," then took off toward the lobby without another word.

Grian watched him leave, feeling hopeless. He really messed up.

Pearl cleared her throat. "Let's get back to work, shall we?" she said, and Scar nodded, heading back to the security office. "Come on, Ms. Maymerry," she said to the housekeeper. "Why don't we talk some more about Mr. Thompson?"

Ms. Maymerry nodded hesitantly. "Sure," she answered, sounding nervous. She followed Pearl down the hallway after stealing a glance at Grian, her heels clacking against the floor.

"Let's get back to work, huh?" Impulse said softly to Grian.

Grian lowered his gaze to the floor. "Right..."

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Scar locked himself in the office and sat in the corner on the floor, wrapping his arms around himself as he tried hard not to cry. He couldn't breathe, couldn't form a single clear thought in his mind. All he could think about was what had happened that night, and he hated it.

He hated Grian.

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[TW for rape! This doesn't go into full detail, but it does talk about what happens in the beginning! The scene ends when the italicised text ends at "At least that's what Scar thought."]

"You sure 's okay for us to be drinkin' all this wine?" Scar asked with a goofy, laid back smile on his face. He was already drunk. "I mean, Mu'bo won't be happy about you gettin' drunk again."

Grian had invited Scar over for some drinks and a movie, saying he'd been too lonely with Mumbo out on a work trip with Pearl and Impulse. Scar couldn't possibly say no to a friendly date with his BFF, so he and Grian made arrangements for Cub to watch the kids whilst they hung out at Grian's place.

Grian stared intently at Scar for a moment, then blinked and waved at him dismissively, pouring himself another glass. "It'll be fine," he said, taking a sip. It was his favourite wine they were drinking. "Besides, my tolerance for alcohol is high. I won't get drunk that easily." He stared at Scar again before taking another drink from his glass.

Scar hiccuped and laughed. "O'gey," he said as he took a long drink from his glass. He set it down and reached for some pretzels when Grian grabbed his wrist. Scar turned his head to face Grian. "Wha-" He was quickly silenced when Grian pressed a long, sloppy kiss to his lips. "Mmph!" Scar tried to push Grian away but ultimately couldn't when Grian moved to sit on his lap, wrapping his legs around Scar's waist.

Grian finally released Scar from the kiss, the two of them panting.

"Gri, stop-" Scar looked around in confusion whilst Grian held him by his wrists to keep him from fighting him. "Wha' are you doing?" Grian started to slowly grind down onto Scar, making the brunette tip his head back. "Stop," he murmured weakly. He still felt alert, but his body, being drunk, couldn't keep up with his brain. And despite being cognizant, he couldn't come up with a reason as to why Grian would be doing this. "Stop, please-"

Grian hushed him with a kiss, using one hand to hold Scar's wrists together whilst the other unbuckled Scar's belt. "Shhh..."

Scar couldn't understand why this was happening, why Grian was the one to do this to him. He never would've thought Grian would've even thought to sexually assault someone. Especially his own best friend.

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At least that's what Scar thought. But here he was now, having a panic attack over just the mention of the horrific event. He'd never thought of it as actual rape before and hearing it called that made him feel even worse about it.

He sobbed, then let himself fall to pieces, wailing to himself in the security office. He wanted Cub, his fiance. He wanted a hug from him. Cub always gave the best hugs. But a thought popped into Scar's head that destroyed him.

What he takes advantage of me, too?

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"I can't believe you actually did that!" Scar shouted, making Grian wail. "And you're crying about it?!"

"Scar, I said I'm sorry," Grian cried, sitting cross-legged on the sofa. "I'm really, really sorry!"

Scar shook his head, reaching for his clothes. "I never thought you would've done this," he said as he stepped into his trousers. "To anyone. I can't even express how angry I am at you right now." He glared at the smaller man when he sobbed harder. "You have no right to cry about this."

"I'm sorry, okay?" Grian said, rubbing his eyes. "How many times do I have to tell you that?"

After slipping his shirt back on, Scar started toward the door. "I'm done being friends with you," he said as he grabbed his car keys. Grian froze. "And you can say goodbye to Olive because there's no fucking way in Hell that I'm going to let you see her now, you fucking creep."

Grian started to cry again. "Wait, Scar, please!" he begged, jumping off the sofa to chase Scar out the door. "Scar, wait! Please, just give me another chance! Scar!" He watched as Scar got into his car and slammed the door shut. "Scar, please!"

That was the last time Grian talked to Scar for three weeks.

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Impulse couldn't help but stare at Grian as the two of them walked toward Conner's office, thinking about what might've made him do such a thing to Scar. Obviously there had to be a reason. Whatever it was, it wasn't exactly justifiable (no reason was), but there had to be one. Grian wouldn't have just done that.

Would he?

Grian opened the door to the late hotel owner's office and gasped.

"What is it?" Impulse asked before looking into the room, noticing the empty noose hanging from the ceiling. He gasped, too.

Mr. Thompson's body was missing.

Impulse scowled at the noose. "Who could've taken his body?" he asked without looking at Grian. "And what would they want with it?"

Grian shrugged. "Maybe the assassin wanted it," he said. "Or perhaps the Count." He entered the room and began to inspect the area below the noose. "There has to be something that can tell us what happened or who took it," he said intently as he moved the rolling chair out of the way so he could look under the desk. Underneath was a briefcase. "Aha! This could be a lead." He pulled it out and opened it after setting it on top of the desk. Inside was...

"A set of work clothes?" Impulse asked, peeking over Grian's shoulder. He sighed. "Man, that has nothing to do with a missing body. Super disappointing."

Grian narrowed his eyes at the clothes, noticing something beige underneath them. "You're wrong," he said. He pulled out the suit and set it aside to reveal what looked like an unstuffed dummy. The clothes and dummy were splattered with something red. "Probably paint," Grian thought aloud after bringing to clothes to his nose to sniff. "What if..." He paused, then closed the briefcase. "I need to see the security footage from last night and earlier when the Count was in the office again. I think I know what's happened here."

"What do you think happened?" Impulse asked, and Grian looked up at him.

"Call me crazy, but I don't think Conner Thompson is actually dead."

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Mumbo caught a ride on a carriage to the Count's palace, assuming that's where fWhip had fled to. He had a lot of time to think on the way there due to traffic and distance. The more he thought about what Grian had said, the more angry he got.

He shook himself out of the cycle of thought, reminding himself that he needed to stay on track. Grian was right; they had a job to do and it was more important than something that could be dealt with back in Boatem.

"We're here," the driver said, and Mumbo tipped him as he got out of the carriage.

"Thank you," Mumbo said, waving to the driver. He watched as they left, then turned toward the palace and sighed. He knew the Count probably wouldn't want to talk to him, but it was worth a shot. He has to come clean and confess what he knows about these assassinations, Mumbo thought as he approached the Count's home. He has to at some point.

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"What do you mean, the Count is missing?"

The guard blocking Mumbo from entering the palace sighed. "I mean what I said," she answered. "He's been missing since last night. No one's seen him."

Mumbo frowned. "But that's impossible, he was just at the hotel..."

"Look, I don't know what your deal is," the guard said, "but I'm going to have to ask you to leave before I use force to remove you from the premises."

Sighing, Mumbo silently obeyed.

This doesn't make any sense.

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"Ack!" Grian rubbed his nose after smashing his face into the door to the security office. "What the hell?" He jiggled the doorknob. "Why is this locked? Scar?" He knocked on the door. "Scar! Are you in there?" He knocked again, stopping when Impulse reached for his hand. "Hm?"

Impulse gave Grian an unsure expression. "You don't think the assassin..."

Grian's eyes widened. "No..." He turned back toward the door and started to pound on it. "Scar! Scar, unlock the door! Scar!" The thought of Scar possibly being murdered in there terrified Grian and made tears spring to his eyes. "Scar!"

Impulse stopped Grian. "Let me," he said, then led Grian away from the door so he could kick it open.

There was a shout as the door hit something hard after swinging open, making Grian and Impulse exchange confused looks. A sleepy Scar poked his head out the door, rubbing his eye.

"What the fuck?"

Grian let out a long sigh of relief. "Thank the Void," he breathed. "We thought you'd been murdered. What you doing, sleeping?"

Scar's cheeks turned pink in embarrassment. "Uh, yeah, actually," he said as he brushed hair out of his face. It had fallen out of its braid. "I didn't mean to, sorry." He looked away from Grian.

The three of them stood in an awkward silence for a moment until Impulse broke the quiet with a clap.

"Alright, let's look at those cameras, eh?" he said, trying to sound cheerful.

Grian looked up at him and paused before nodding. "Yeah."

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GUYS I PROMISE THE STORY IS STILL ON TRACK, THIS ISN'T AN UNNECESSARY TANGENT I PROMISE

Ahem

Anyway

I hope you guys enjoyed! Have a wonderful rest of your day :]

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