Another warning for mention of cigarettes/smoking and drinking! Be safe, my friends <3

Also, does anyone remember the Mumbo for Mayor scat song from season 7? The one by jono? Yeah, that's Grian's ringtone in this fic.

[If you don't know what I'm talking about, search something along the lines of that and you should find it quite easily]

Also, also. This chapter is a lot longer than normal ones just because I'm going to be going away for a while. But I'll explain more into detail about that at the end of the chapter, so for now, be spoiled with content :) /pos

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The door slammed shut, and Grian wanted more than ever to melt into a pile on the floor and cry. Why did she leave? Why didn't she just stay and protect him? Why didn't she take him with her?

"Dammit!" Joel's holler, along with him kicking the oven, made Grian jump. "You've got to be fucking joking." His eyes met Grian's and he sighed, leaning over the counter and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Grian, come here," he said calmly. Grian didn't move. "Grian."

Shaking his head, Grian stepped back. "No," he tried to say firmly, though his bottom lip quivering didn't help much with that. "No, you're going to hit me and yell at me 'cause you- y-you're probably d-drunk or s-something."

Joel's expression changed from annoyed to bewildered as he straightened his back. "Drunk?" he echoed. "Why would I be-" His eyes found the box of cigarettes on the counter. "Right..."

"You're just like her," Grian sobbed. He was clearly trying to sound angry, but between his sniffling from being sick and his hiccuping from crying, he sounded more heartbroken than anything. "It's yelling, then it's c-cigarettes, and then you get drunk all the t-time and-"

"Grian, I'm not drunk," Joel interrupted. "And I won't hurt you."

Grian looked down at the ground. "How am I meant to believe that when you just hit Lizzie?" he mumbled, sniffling.

Joel sighed. "Fine, don't believe me," he huffed. "That's fine. It's not like a care anyway."

Grian looked up at Joel, hearing his mother's words repeating over and over in his head.

"I don't care about you."

"You don't matter to me."

"It doesn't make the slightest difference to me if you're hurt."

With a loud, choked sob, Grian shouted, "I hate you!" and stormed away to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him. Once the door was closed, he let himself sink to the floor and cry for a bit. He felt nothing but anxiety and betrayal.

This was supposed to be a safe place. He promised me a safe place. That thought only made him sob harder.

Finally calming down some, Grian's thoughts began to clear. I need to leave, he thought to himself. I'm not safe here. He glanced around his room, subconsciously scanning the place for necessities. I need clothes, food... With shaky legs, he got up from the floor. He grabbed his backpack and emptied it to stuff inside it a couple of jumpers, a pair of jeans and sweats, and some fruit snacks and cereal bars he'd hidden under his bed. He opened his window, grimacing at the icy blast of cold air, and shoved the red bag out onto the ground. The sound of it hitting the concrete below was probably loud enough for some neighbors and possibly Joel himself to hear, and Grian froze for a second to listen for footsteps incase Joel came to check up on him.

Now that I think about, it's kind of weird that he hasn't come to talk to me yet. Grian shrugged. Better for me, I guess.

He shifted to sit on the window sill, then threw his legs over the side, gasping when his hand slipped and he nearly fell forward. After taking a moment to gather his bearings, he reached forward with one hand and grabbed onto the branch of a tall, dead tree. It was risky, but he gave the branch a hard tug to make sure it wouldn't immediately snap once he jumped. He took a long, deep breath before putting his other hand on it and launching himself off the side of the apartment complex, hooking his legs around the tree as he swung himself forward.

"Holy shit," the dirty blonde breathed, seeing his hot breath in the contrasting frigid air. A small rush of adrenaline filled him after that, and that was enough to give him the courage to shimmy down the tree to the ground.

Putting his feet on the sidewalk was a whole different kind of relief.

He shrugged his backpack on - it was surpringly heavier than he expected - and stared out at the street in front of him. Cars whizzed past him at tens of kilometres an hour, and a thought dawned on him - What am I meant to do now?

Anxiety bubbling in his chest, he realized he didn't have anywhere to go. He figured that he shouldn't go to Lizzie and Jimmy's house. If Lizzie wanted him there, she would've taken him with her, right? And though he knew how to get to fWhip's house from here, he probably wasn't welcome there.

I'm stuck.

Before he could think of anything else, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket, followed by the silly ringtone that was just for Mumbo. "Hello?" he said once he answered the call, hating how hoarse his voice was.

"Hey, Grian," the blackette said, quite cheerfully in contrast to Grian's tone. "My parents aren't home and I was wondering if you wanted to come over, but, uh... Are you okay, buddy?"

Grin sniffled and wiped at his nose. "Uh, yeah, I'm just feeling a bit sick," he fibbed. "What was that about coming over?" If I can convince Mumbo to let me stay the night, I could probably use Scott's set up behind the stage at school, he thought.

Mumbo hummed. "Well, Scar practically invited himself over for a sleepover, so I thought I could ask if you wanted to come, too," he said. "Are you sure you're alright, mate? You sound like you've been crying."

Shaking his head, Grian took a slightly shaky breath. "No, I'm fine," he said. This is perfect, I just need to get him to believe that I'm okay. "I promise."

"If you say so," Mumbo sighed. "So, about that sleepover..."

Grian giggled. "I'll be there in a bit," he said.

He could hear Mumbo turned away from the phone and shout, "Scar, he said he's coming," followed by a cheer from the brunette. Mumbo cleared his throat. "Sweet," he said calmly. "Tell Joel to be careful driving. My mom said that there's ice on the roads."

Grian's breathing hitched. "Right," he said stiffly. "I'll, uh... I'll make sure to let him know."

"See you when you get here."

"See you." As soon as Grian hung up, a harsh wind tore at his hair and sweater, making him shiver. This is going to be a long walk, he thought tiredly.

And it was. It took him roughly thirty minutes to get there.

He'd taken out his phone to text Mumbo that he was walking up the driveway when he noticed his fingertips turning white. Under his nails were a deep blueish color as well.

Frostbite, he thought immediately, grimacing at the stinging. Well, I'm here anyway. Knocking on the door was a bit more than painful, his knuckles flushed a bright pink and aching. I can't imagine what my nose and ears look like.

The door opened, revealing a smiling Mumbo, but his smile faded as quickly as it came. "Holy crap, Grian," he gasped, stepping aside so Grian could walk in. "Come inside, don't stand out here any longer."

Grian listened immediately, basking in the warmth of Mumbo's home even though it stung his frostbitten face and hands.

"Did you walk here?" Mumbo asked as he guided Grian into the living room.

Grian nodded. The movement was small enough that it could've gone unnoticed, but Mumbo seemed to understand.

"Jeez, Grian," he murmured. "Tell me next time when you don't have a ride. It's dangerous to walk out in cold like that." His eyes widened when Grian shifted out of his backpack and sat down on the sofa. "Oh, and you don't have a coat, either-"

The sound of running came down the hall, followed by Scar poking his head into the room. "Is Grian here?" His face lit up then he frowned, the same way Mumbo did. "Are you okay?"

Grian nodded, now sitting with his legs crossed, but Mumbo shook his head, running a hand through Grian's hair which was wet from melted snow.

"'M fine, Mumbo," the younger mumbled, letting his eyes slip close as a wave of sleepiness hit him like a tsunami.

Mumbo chuckled humorlessly. "Right, and I'm Albert Einstein," he said as he quirked a brow. He sighed. "You probably need a hot bath or something. Come on."

Grian whined as Mumbo reached for his wrists to gently pull him to his feet.

"I know," Mumbo whispered, wrapping an arm around Grian's torso once he was standing. "But you're going to really feel it in the morning if you don't do something about it now." He turned to Scar to whisper, "Can you call Joel?"

Grian's eyes opened wide. "Don't call him," he blurted. "Please, don't call him."

Mumbo gave Grian a bewildered look. "Dude, your fingers and ears could fall off and you're telling us not to call the person who knows better than any of us how to treat frostbite?"

"My fingers and ears aren't falling off," the smaller huffed. "'S fine."

"It's not fine, Grian," Scar said, coming up from behind the former as he pulled his phone from his pocket. "I'm calling Joel whether you like it or not."

Grian gasped and turned to face Scar. "No, don't, please," he begged. "Please, he's going to get ang- err, uh..." He shook his head when Scar put the phone to his ear. "Wait, Scar, please-"

"Hey, Joel," the brunette said, and Grian could hear Joel's tired hello in response.

Whining, Grian reached for Scar's phone. "Scar-"

Scar moved out of the way. "You wouldn't happen to know how to treat frostbite, would you?" he asked.

Grian relaxed slightly and let Mumbo pull him back. At least he didn't say it was me, he thought. But then he could hear Joel ask who had frostbite, and his anxiety spiked again. He shook his head when Scar glanced at him.

"Mumbo and I were being idiots," he lied. "We tried to see who could keep their hands in ice longer and now Mumbo's fingers are, uh" - he looked at Grian's hands for reference - "white and- are those blisters?"

"Oh, goodness," Grian could hear Joel say as Scar put the phone on speaker. "If it's blistering, give him an anti-inflammatory. It should help with any pain, too. Uh... right, make sure to warm his hands up, too. You could put warm water on a towel and wrap them or put his hands in bowls of warm water. And use warm water. Using water that's too hot could make the skin numb and it could burn his fingers. There would be more blisters and it'll make it ten times worse."

Scar nodded. "Okay, tha-"

"Oh, and put some aloe vera on it," Joel added. "Is it numb or does it burn or sting?"

Grian whispered, "It stings," and Scar relayed the words.

"Okay, that's good," Joel said. "Er, not the stinging part. It's going to hurt quite a bit, but it's better than it being numb." A hum came down the line. "I'm trying to remember, was there anything else?" he mumbled. "If it's still, like, frozen, don't rub it or anything. It could damage the skin."

Mumbo leaned over Grian's shoulder to be closer to the phone. "How long should we soak it for?" he asked.

Joel sighed. "Jeez, do I even remember?" That earned a small snicker from Scar. "Uh, probably thirty to forty-five minutes, I would think. Or until the skin turns pinkish." He sighed again. "But if it's blistering, it's better if you go to the hospital to get it treated. I'm pretty sure they'll give you an MRI or something and scrape off the dead skin."

Mumbo and Scar exchanged glances before Scar asked, "What if you can't go to the hospital?"

"What? The hell do you mean, you can't go to the hospital?"

"Uhh..."

"Scar, is everything okay? Should I come over?"

"No!" Grian shouted before he could stop himself.

There was shuffling on the other side of the line. "I'm sorry, was that Grian?"

"No," Scar said quickly. "Thanks for helping, bye." Before Joel could get another word in, Scar hung up and pocketed his phone.

Mumbo rolled his eyes. "That could've gone better," he sighed. "Come on, Grian, let's go get you a warm bath."

Grian didn't protest as Mumbo guided him up the stairs while Scar went to grab towels. Grian had convinced Mumbo it would be better for him to shower so the water would warm up his face, and Mumbo had Grian touch the water to make sure it wouldn't burn him before going to leave.

"Wait," Grian murmured, wincing slightly as he grabbed Mumbo's shirt. "Stay with me, please."

Mumbo's face turned slightly red at the request. "I can't exactly-"

"Please," Grian said again. "I won't get fully undressed." Mumbo stared at him a moment. "I don't wanna be alone. Please."

Sighing, Mumbo nodded. "Sure, Grian," he said. He watched for a second as Grian fiddled with his sweater in attempt to take it off. "Need help with that?" Grian nodded. "Okay. Arms up." Once Grian put his arms up, Mumbo pulled the sweater over his head and tossed it to the side. "Oh, Grian..."

Grian looked up. "What?"

His shoulders, along with his elbows, were a bright pink and slightly white. They'd gotten frostbitten, too. At least they weren't as bad as his fingers and face.

Mumbo sighed. "Nothing." He glanced down at Grian's jeans before looking away again, blushing a bit. "Do you, uh... Do you want to keep your pants on or..."

Grian shrugged. "I don't care, 'm freezing," he mumbled.

Nodding, Mumbo thought about taking off his own jumper. It would be uncomfortable to have the thick material cling to him, but it felt strange for both of them to be shirtless in the shower together. But then again, being in shower with anyone was a strange thing in itself.

I guess it couldn't hurt, Mumbo reasoned. We've gone swimming together in the past, so it's not like we've never been shirtless in front of each other before. Sighing, he pulled the jumper over his head. He'd completely forgotten about the shirt he had on underneath. Another sigh, yet this one of relief, left him. That saves me some nervousness, at least.

"Actually," Mumbo said just before Grian got into the shower, "if you don't want to, uh, take off your jeans, I can go get some shorts for you to borrow."

Grian's mouth didn't move, but his eyes seemed smile at Mumbo. "Okay," he said simply.

"You could run your hands under the water while you wait," Mumbo suggested, and Grian nodded. "Alright, I'll be back."

When Mumbo left the bathroom, he didn't close the door completely, leaving just a little bit of room between the door and the frame. He turned around and almost yelped, startled by the fact that Scar was standing just behind him, half buried in towels.

"Scar," the blackette breathed, placing a hand on his chest. He chuckled. "Announce yourself, maybe."

Scar bent over to set the towels on the floor. "Sorry," he shrugged. "How is Grian?" He looked behind Mumbo toward the bathroom door as if he was able to see Grian through it.

Mumbo sighed. "He, uh..." He turned his head away as his cheeks grew warm and red. "He said he wants me to go into the shower with him, so I was just-"

"What?!" Scar blurted. "That's so lucky!"

Why that made Mumbo's face heat up more, he had no idea. "Wha- What do you mean, lucky? I-"

"Dude, you get to shower with the cutest guy ever, you think that's not lucky?"

Mumbo stared in near disbelief at Scar. Never, ever, had he heard anything like that come from Scar in his life. It was almost hilarious. "I'm-" He shook his head. "So, you like Grian, too, then?"

"You didn't know that?" Scar blinked. "Mumbo, you are dense."

"I- You know what, I have to go grab Grian some shorts," Mumbo huffed in mock offense while Scar giggled.

The couple minutes that it took Mumbo to get the shorts and come back was a bit too much time for him to think in his opinion, as he quickly became nervous about going back into the bathroom. He stood in front of the door for a moment, and when he was about to go in, he heard Scar laughing. Walking into the bathroom, he found Grian had already gotten in and Scar had taken off his shirt and joined him.

Relief and disappointment filled Mumbo. Why am I upset? I didn't really even want to in the first place...

Scar noticed Mumbo and waved him over. "Come on, Mumbo," he laughed. "We've got room for one more."

Sighing, Mumbo put the shorts down on the sink and walked over. "You sure? It looks a bit... cramped."

"Come on, Mumbo," Grian whined, reaching out for Mumbo's hand. His face was flushed, more so than what hot water would cause, but Mumbo assumed it was because of the frostbite. "Please?"

Mumbo stared at Grian for a moment. "I mean..." He groaned and reached to pull his hair back into a small bun. "If you want me to."

Grian smiled, a drunk-looking expression on his face. "Yay," he drawled, wrapping his arms around Mumbo as the latter stepped into the warm stream of water.

Mumbo couldn't help but smile a bit at the way Grian grinned against his chest. The taller looked up at Scar, who had a fond look of his own as he stared at them.

Scar ended up giving Grian a scalp massage before actually washing his hair for him while the latter was practically passed out against Mumbo, who was absolutely melting at the sight.

I'm so lucky to have these two as my best friends.