This chapter is Grian's point of view of the last chapter in first person, and also gives some insight on how he sees things in general :D

Trigger warning, this chapter includes themes of bullying, sa, and mention of sh. The F slur is also used once (before anyone gets mad, I do not support using slurs towards other people, but I am in the LGBTQIA+ community, I'm a lesbian). Be safe, loves <3

(This chapter is also a bit longer so brace yourselves lol)

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I woke up with a headache, and that was the first of my problems today.

I was confused when I got up, forgetting I had to stay at Timmy's the last night. I shook myself and went over to the closet to find some of my old clothes. They were pretty torn up - shocker - and some of the sweaters looked like they would fall apart as soon as I touched them. I did find a nice jumper that wasn't too tattered. It looked pretty good on me.

I went to the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth, covering the mirror with a towel. I hated mirrors, hated seeing my reflection. There were too many scars everywhere on my body for it to look loveable, and since I had gotten frostbite, there was an ugly, brown, circular scar around the tip of my nose. My cheeks were also scarred from blisters. It wasn't flattering at all.

Daniel made breakfast since Lizzie was sick. Blueberry pancakes. They weren't as good as Lizzie's in the slightest, but who am I to complain? Food is food.

As Daniel set two plates in front of me and Tim, I couldn't help but feel an underlying anxiety that I'd be in trouble if I took any. Mum would trick me like that, leaving food out that had my name on it only to scream at me about taking her meal.

I knew Daniel wasn't like that. If he was, I wouldn't be allowed to stay with them. But the feeling was still there.

"Go ahead," Daniel whispered to me, winking like he knew what I was thinking. He nudged the plate a little closer to me. "I'll get the syrup from the cupboard."

Timmy stuck his tongue out. "That stuff does not belong on pancakes," he murmured. "Waffles and crepes only."

I blinked at him. "You do realize that crepes and pancakes are, like, the same thing, right?" I deadpanned.

"Crepes are crispy."

I sighed. "Whatever." Looking down at the plate before me, I couldn't find my appetite as thoughts of last night came back to me and I realized what had happened. "Oh my God," I muttered. I probably looked stupid staring down at my plate the way I was.

Timmy looked at me and started talking with his mouth full. I couldn't understand a word he said. I guess Daniel noticed because he asked if I was okay after a moment.

I shook my head and covered my face with my hands, feeling ashamed but not wanting them to see it. I know Lizzie said it wasn't my fault, but...

I still felt awful about it. And it was true, if I didn't run away this wouldn't have happened. Joel would be happy in his flat and he wouldn't be in trouble with the police.

"Hey, kiddo," I heard Daniel whisper next to me, "you wanna go eat in the other room?"

I peeked between my fingers to look at him. He had that weird smile on his face that he always has when he talks like that. It was a soft smile, kind, sweet. I can never tell if I like when he smiles like that or not. It makes me feel weird, like my chest gets fuzzy like I'm happy but my stomach churns like I'm nervous.

I nodded and he took my plate for me as we went into the living room. Daniel set up a TV tray for me to put my plate on while I ate.

"I get it if you don't want to talk about what's going on," he said quietly, kneeling next to the sofa. "You don't have to tell me jackshit if you don't want to. But please make sure to eat, okay? I know it's a sensitive topic, but I also know that you don't exactly eat enough as it is." He held up his pinky. "Promise to put in the effort?"

My vision was suddenly blurry with tears and my face felt hot as I nodded, holding out my own pinky in return. I don't know why I started crying. He didn't say anything mean. I hate when I cry for no reason.

Daniel just smiled and hugged me. "I'm so proud of you, Grian," he whispered. "I know you're going through a lot right now, but you're still here and that's what matters."

Nobody's ever said that to me before. I froze, sniffling a bit, and just stared at him when he pulled away.

"You alright?"

I paused, then nodded.

"I'll believe you," Daniel teased, ruffling my hair, which was getting pretty long now I noticed. "Now, eat up so I can get you to school."

The morning wasn't too terrible, nothing more than the typical bullying from idiots who can't count to 5. It's funny how much they used to bother me, but now I couldn't care less about what they say to me. I suppose Joel making fun of them in return helped with that.

My headache got pretty bad in third period, and that's where everything really started going south. I couldn't focus on a single thing with my brain feeling like it was slamming against the inside of my skull over and over in attempt to escape. I eventually had to be walked down to the clinic because the bright lights made everything worse. Of course, being in the clinic didn't help much either. It wasn't any dimmer in there, and taking pain killers when it had already gotten so bad was basically pointless.

The nurse kept me there for the rest of that class, then let me go for Spanish.

I never liked that class. The work was too easy, and Mr. Fletcher was creepy as hell. He was always hovering over my shoulder, watching me do the work, and he only ever seemed to call on me. Timmy being there helped a little bit, I guess. He was very tolerable compared to everything else.

The bell rang, signalling the end of class, and Mr. Fletcher gave his goodbyes and a reminder to do the homework.

"Grian," he called after me just before I made it to the door. I should've pretend like I couldn't hear him.

But instead, I turned around and acknowledged him. "Yeah?"

He smiled at me, waving me over. "Mind helping me clean up? I know you have lunch now, but I could really use a hand."

"Promise me you'll eat today."

Chewing on my lip, I almost felt stuck. I didn't mind the thought of helping Mr. Fletcher tidy up his classroom, cleaning was fun. But I promised Daniel I would make sure to eat. If I stayed too long, I wouldn't have time to get lunch.

I bit back a sigh and nodded. "Sure." I figured it would help me relax a bit, clear my headache. Cleaning always helped me calm down. Joel said it was ironic, though, considering Mum would hit me if I didn't clean quickly enough.

Mr. Fletcher looked more than happy when I said yes. "Great!" He clapped his hands together, rather loudly. "Mind erasing the chalkboard while I go get the cleaning supplies?"

"Yeah." I set my things down to grab the eraser and start rubbing off the chalk. I had to get a chair to reach the top. Mr. Fletcher was so much taller than me.

At first, I was right. Helping Mr. Fletcher clean up was really calming. I enjoyed wiping down the desks and sweeping, it helped clear up some of my headache. And it took my mind off of things.

I was carrying textbooks from one bookshelf to another to organize them when my grip slipped and I nearly dropped them on my toes. I bent over to pick them up and was startled when I felt Mr. Fletcher's hand on my shoulder. I jumped and nearly hit him in the face by accident.

"Oops, didn't mean to scare you," he apologized with a laugh. "I was just about to say how great you are at helping."

I let out a fake laugh and turned back around to put the books on the shelf. "I like helping," I said. "Knowing I've made other people smile makes me happy."

I heard Mr. Fletcher hum to himself. "Does it now?" His voice was lower than his usual speaking voice.

"Uh, yeah." I turned to face him once I finished putting the books away, though, there was one book that I couldn't find a place for. I left that one on top of the short bookcase. "Where should I put-" I stopped when Mr. Fletcher began to crowd me against the bookcase. "I-"

"You know, Grian," he started, lifting a hand to rub up and down my arm. I shivered at the gesture. "I lied a little bit. I never needed help cleaning." He pressed his body against mine, easily towering over me, and leaned down to whisper in my ear, "I just couldn't stop thinking of how good you would look under me."

For a split second, I thought I was going to drop dead right then and there. I felt like I couldn't breathe, claustrophobia and pure fear getting the better of me with him pressed so close. I knew what he meant, several of Mum's boyfriends have said similar things. I just didn't really expect it. How, I have no clue. The signs were all there, but it was still a surprise.

He touched his nose to my neck and breathed in deeply. "And since you like helping so much," he said, "maybe you could help me with this little problem I have here."

I tried my best to squirm enough to get out of his hold as he rubbed his crotch against my hip, but it was practically useless. "Mr. Fletcher, please," I murmured, not enough air in my lungs to be very loud. "I don't think this is okay-"

"But don't you want to help me?" he interrupted, his breath hot against my neck. "You'll make me smile, and then you'll be happy, too." His hand moved down my side and his fingers slipped just beneath the waistband of my jeans. "I promise it'll feel good."

"I don't want to," I croaked. I could feel tears building in my eyes, sobs threatening to force their way out of my throat at any given second.

I felt his lips curl into a sick smile against my skin. "I didn't say you had a choice." He started to kiss my neck, occasionally nipping at my skin.

A quiet cry left my lips and I couldn't do anything to stop another from following suit. Hot tears rolled down my cheeks as the teacher started to pull my pants down and I moved my hands to rest on the top of the bookcase to brace myself.

This is actually happening, I thought to myself. I'm actually going to be raped. I let my eyes close as I took as deep of a breath as I could to prepare myself. I'll be okay. It'll be over soon, and I can leave and go about my day. And he promised it would feel good, too, so maybe it won't be so bad...

As I told myself assurances, my fingers felt the cover of a book. A thought crossed my mind that maybe, if I could push Mr. Fletcher away for long enough, I could use the textbook to keep him away. A hit on the head would certainly do the trick. Not to hurt him or knock him unconscious, of course, just to shoo him away.

Suddenly confident and full of relief, I began to thrash against him, squirming out of his grip to the best of my ability before getting enough space between us to push him back against a desk.

He had the same look Mum always had when she was about to hit me when I did that. "Grian-"

Before he could finish, I lifted up the book and swung as hard as I possibly could. I hit him right on the head and he collapsed onto the ground, totally unconscious and bleeding.

I dropped the book to cover my mouth, shocked at what I just did. "I killed him," I sobbed into my hands. Part of me wishes I actually did kill him. A glance at the clock told me lunch was half over. If I leave now, maybe I won't get caught? I shook myself, pulling my jeans back up, and stepped around Mr. Fletcher's unconscious body to grab my things and leave.

I ran as fast as I could through the hall, still crying. I knew Mr. Fletcher was a weirdo, but still... damn.

"Hey, kid, slow down," the hall monitor said to me, grabbing my arm to stop me. I nearly fell backward when she did that. "You shouldn't be running in the hallway, whether it's crowded or not. Where's your pass?"

I didn't turn to look at her, not wanting her to see my face. "I was just helping Mr. Fletcher clean up his classroom," I answered. My voice was shaky. "I'm going to lunch now."

She hummed and let me go. "I'll go check in with him. You better hurry down to the cafeteria, though, the lines might be closed already." I started walking briskly, and she called after me, "No running, young man!"

I started running again as soon as I turned the corner. I didn't want to be in sight when she found Mr. Fletcher lying on the floor unconscious.

It was loud in the lunchroom, loud enough to cause a panic attack. Mumbo told me that morning that he would be in the computer lab during lunch, and Scar was staying with his Nana sick. I tried to think of anyone else I knew that had the same lunch as me when I felt something underneath my foot.

"Ow!"

I looked down to see Timmy underneath of a table. Why was he under there? "I'm so sorry, Timmy," I apologized. I could hear laughter coming from somewhere nearby, but I couldn't tell from whoch direction. I winced at the fact that Tim now had the print of my shoe left on his hand. "I am so sorry."

"It's fine," Timmy said as he looked up at me. Something in his expression changed, but I couldn't tell what. Was he mad at me? Was he going to yell at me? I braced myself in case if he would. "It didn't hurt that bad," he said instead, surprising me. "I promise."

I looked away. "Okay..." I felt my hands start to shake, so I busied them by helping Timmy up from the floor. Surely he wouldn't notice.

The laughter in the background disappeared suddenly, and Fwhip seemed to materialise in the corner of my eye.

He gave me a weird look. "You good, G?" he asked. "You're sweating quite a bit, there."

"I'm fine," I answered quickly. Maybe too quickly. I paused for a second before speaking again. "I just need to calm down is all." I took a deep breath, feeling my shoulders relax a bit. My hands were still shaking.

Fwhip glanced at Timmy. "Calm down from what?" the ginger asked. "Running a marathon?"

I let out a small laugh. "Something like that..." I shook my head. "Can I sit with you guys? Mumbo's in the computer lab, and Scar's home sick, so I'm kind of lonely."

Timmy nodded. "Go ahead."

Beautiful relief flooded my body, and I could myself relax completely. "Thanks," I said as I sat down.

I was thankful when I could finally go to robotics club to see Mumbo. As soon as I laid eyes on him, I was rushing over to hug him.

"Oh- hello," he said with a laugh. God, I love his laugh. It's so gentle and sweet and happy. "How are you?" His fingers began to rub at scalp and I felt like I was melting into him.

"'M okay," I answered. "I missed you at lunch."

Mumbo chuckled again. "Did you?" He pulled away just enough so he could look at me, then kissed me on the forehead. "I missed you, too, birdie."

I could feel my face heat up, my stomach doing a whole gymnastics routine. I must've been staring at him for while because he started to look worried.

"Too soon for kisses?" he asked nervously.

I shook my head. "No, I just... Nobody's ever done that before."

Mumbo's expression softened, then turned sad. "Not even your parents?"

I blinked. "Huh?"

"Like... your parents never kissed you on the cheeks, or..."

I looked away. Parents were supposed to do that? Since when?

Neither of us got the chance to say anything else before Mr. Hermann was telling us to take our seats.

Robotics was fun, I got a lot of progress done on painting Grumbot's exterior and spending this time with Mumbo was even better now that we're actually dating. It went by pretty fast (too fast for my liking, if I'm honest), and Mr. Hermann was dismissing us.

I offered to take Grumbot home, and Mumbo agreed.

"That sounds good," he said as he helped me put Grumbot into his box. "By the way, did you finish those math formulas? I want to start on the chips tonight, and the math one will probably be the hardest, so I want to start with that one first."

I nodded and switched to searching through my bag for the papers with all of the formulas (that I knew, of course; I'm not Sheldon Cooper for goodness sake). But I couldn't find them. I scowled at my bag. "I could've sworn I put them in here."

"It's fine if you don't have them now," Mumbo assured me. "I can work on the other subjects until you do have them."

Shaking my head and sighing, I closed my bag and tossed one strap over my shoulder. "I probably just left them in my locker," I said. "I can grab them and send you pictures later."

Mumbo shrugged. "That also works."

We exited the workshop, Mumbo gave me a forehead kiss goodbye, and I started for my locker. Which, unfortunately, just so happened to be on the other side of the school.

I carefully set down the box with Grumbot in it once I got to my locker, and I put in my combination. Just as I figured, all of the formulas I wrote down for Mumbo were right there, sitting on the top shelf of my locker.

I sighed and grabbed the small stack of papers to put them in the box with Grumbot. "I really need to stop forgetting things," I mumbled to myself, then closed my locker and got ready to leave.

But when I turned around, I was met with the faces of three, much older looking boys. The one on my left had dark skin and vibrant red dreads tied into a bun, the boy in the middle had slightly lighter skin and black, curly hair, and the one on my right had pale skin and blonde hair. They looked like they could be basketball players.

"Hey, cutie," said the guy in the middle, smirking at me. He backed me up against my locker. "What you got in that box?"

I repressed the urge to correct his grammar. "It's none of your business," I huffed, trying to maneuver around him. "Now, if you excuse me-"

"I didn't say you could leave," he said, using a single hand to push me back against the lockers and pin me there. "What's in the box?"

A sick feeling bubbled in my stomach, and I couldn't tell if it was because of my sudden nervousness or because I didn't eat lunch. "It's just a robot me and my boyfriend were making in robotics..." I trailed off as the blonde boy started to laugh.

"So, he's a nerd and a faggot," the blonde said. "Zach was right about this idiot."

"Zach?" I echoed. "Are you here to annoy me because of something Zach said?" I sighed. "And I'm the idiot here."

The boy keeping me pinned against the lockers moved his hand from my chest to grab aggressively at my jaw. "Watch it," he warned. He glanced down at the box in my hands, then snatched it from me.

"Hey!" I shouted, reaching for it immediately. "That's mi-" I let out a high-pitched yelp when I felt arms wrap tightly around my torso, lifting me off of my feet. "Put me down!" I thrashed about, trying to kick my way out of my captor's hold.

The boy opened the box. "Oh my god," he laughed. "Joey, look at this thing!" He took Grumbot out of the box to show it to the blonde boy, who I assumed was Joey.

Joey took it and started to examine it, turning it over in his hands carelessly. "Looks like the work of a preschooler," he said, nudging the other boy's arm. "Who painted this, a newborn baby?" The boys all laughed at that.

"Put it down," I pouted, giving up on trying to squirm away. "It's fragile."

"Hear that, Dante?" Joey turned to the boy with curly hair, Dante. "He wants me to put it down."

Dante smiled. "Poor choice of words, cutie."

Joey let go of Grumbot as soon as Dante finished his sentence, the unfinished robot snapping in half.

I couldn't help the horrified scream I let out as Grumbot hit the ground. All that hard work Mumbo did... I wanted to throw up just thinking about how he would react. He'd be so angry if he found out I broke it. He'd probably yell at me and break up with me because I'm such an idiot, incapable of doing anything right. And he was so excited, too. The fair is in two weeks, and our project was ruined because of me.

Hot tears streamed down my face as Joey and Dante cruelly stomped on the poor, broken robot.

"Stop it!" I screamed as loud as I could, my throat not happy with that decision. "Please, Mumbo worked so hard on that!" They didn't listen to me. They acted like I didn't even exist, like they couldn't hear a word I was saying. "You assholes!" I yelled. "Stop it!"

Joey seemed to hear me this time, pausing momentarily to say, "Cole, shut him up," and the boy holding me let go of me to slam my head against the lockers.

I sobbed at the action, though I didn't have much time to do anything other than that before Cole grabbed my wrist and lifted me up off the floor again to throw three hard punches to my belly. When he let go of my wrist, I fell onto the floor and vomited what was still in my stomach from breakfast, wrapping my arms around my torso and keeping my head down.

"Gross," I heard Joey say before one of the boys kicked Grumbot's smashed parts over to me. "Have fun at the science fair, loser."

I waited until I couldn't hear their footsteps anymore to look up at the damage they caused to Mumbo's robot. The base of it what shattered into millions of little peices, held together only by the tangle of detached and frayed wires. When I picked it up, several little pieces fell onto the floor. The eyes were shattered and the little machine that printed the paper was in bits.

Sighing, I tossed the robot corpse in its box and kicked its splintered-apart exterior underneath the lockers. It wasn't important anyway, it wasn't my project. It was Mumbo's. And I ruined it.

I'm an awful boyfriend.

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*Cutely crushes your favourite lil robot guy* /lh

I'd like to say again that I do not approve of calling other people slurs, whether you're technically allowed to say it or not! It's rude and hurtful, and can especially be hurtful if the person you're saying it to is uncomfortable with it. I understand joking around with people who don't mind it, but don't use it to offend others! /gen

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this cutscene /gen/pos