Chapter Text
Standing on the start line, Scar shuffles his feet between muddy clumps of grass, nervously awaiting for the judge’s whistle to start him, cracking knuckles in a habit while rocking back and forth gently on his heels.
He glances around the Scrime tent, and takes in the circle of spectators lined up in a herd around the white picket fencing of the ring, all eagerly waiting to see their performance. This fact did not help Scar's nerves in the slightest.
This singular run with Jellie is one of the most important runs of his season, and he cannot mess up.
His placing will determine whether or not he qualifies with Jellie to represent his team in the world agility championship, and it must be nothing less than perfect.
Scar feels like the seconds are stretching into years, but at last the sharp pitch of the whistle ingrains itself into him skull. He sets Jellie up between his feet, facing the first jump, and smooths out her fur before taking a few steps to his starting position.
He glances at his little grey mutt, taking in the determination written all over her furry face, body lowered in anticipation of her release.
Scar can feel his heart pounding, but he can’t let it show, building a wall from his emotions reaching her, because if Jellie picks up on his nerves, they are fucked.
Taking a deep breath, he shakes out his hands and releases her with a simple “ok”. Watching as she takes the first jump, Scar pulls her around jump 2, towards the A-frame.
Getting a blind cross in front of an A-frame with a speedy dog is a difficult feat, but he manages it with trained ease, crossing to the other side just in time to cue the tunnel and catch up to her at the end of it, flicking her round an odd jump, and sending her flying across the dogwalk noting with satisfaction as she hits the contact perfectly.
Now for the trickiest part of the course.
Sprinting ahead, he pushes her round the wing of jump 9, pulling her over the bar, and crossing her to the other hand in an S turn.
She performs beautifully, and Scar takes a moment to breathe a mental sigh of relief while sending her into the weaves from a distance. She enters without a pause, dancing through the poles with ease.
Exiting them, he sends her into the tunnel on the off-hand, cueing the see-saw.
She glides up it, tipping it perfectly on the contact, pausing enough to let it bang into the grass before releasing herself, and chasing Scar down the home straight.
Jump, long-jump, tunnel, jump and they've done it! Scar feels the anxious energy leave his body the second Jellie lands after the last jump, officially stopping the clock.
Thanking the judge, Scar runs out of the ring with Jellie barking excitedly at his heels, a victorious smile dancing across his lips.
The yellow reward bucket is placed at the corner of the exit area, and Jellie springs ahead to it, pulling her toy out, and knocking the bucket over in the process. She playfully growls at him when Scar reaches down to tug with her, but he grabs a hold of the handle, and pulls her side to side, relishing this moment with his best friend.
Letting her win, he reaches down to collect her lead from the bucket, setting it the right way up for the next person, when a force knocks into his shoulder, nearly throwing him off his feet.
“Oh you asshole,” he grunts, but grins beside himself when he catches sight of those deep, mischievous, sparkling, brown eyes.
“Scar?! That was amazing! That time on a clear round is going to be so hard to beat!” Grian grins at him, and reaches down to scratch Jellie, giving her a pat on the ribs while he's at it.
“Thanks!” Scar replies breathlessly ”She ran well for me, I'm just praying it’s enough to qualify.” Clipping Jellie’s lead onto her collar and letting her carry her toy, Scar starts to head back to their van, Grian in step beside him.
“Are you kidding?? Have faith in yourself!” He lightly punches Scar's shoulder, “You're definitely making the team with that performance!” he grins at him again, and Scar feels heat creep up his neck, desperately praying that Grian notes the redness of his cheeks as from exertion.
Scar smiles back at him as if the man hadn't just caused a tsunami of butterflies to catapult around his stomach, spinning in circles and fluttering up his throat in a heated frenzy.
“Good luck later for your run,” Scar replies instead, “You and Maui had better get around, I don't want to go to championships all alone.” He winks playfully, and ignores his friend's reaction, playing up his obviousness deliberately.
Having reached the van now, he pulls open the sliding door, and offers Jellie some water, which she drops her toy to gratefully lap up, before unclipping her lead.
She leaps up the steps to Scar's bed, curling up into a den under the covers when she realises he isn't going to run with her again right now, instead deciding to recuperate after her performance.
Scar beckons Grian inside, and he sits down gratefully, leaning back into the cushions of Scar's makeshift sofa, wincing at a pillow when it falls to the side and pokes him in the back.
“Oof, I’m hoping, Maui has a tendency to knock polls when it's an important run.” He winces, and Scar can almost see him imagining all the poles that could end up lying on the grass later.
He gives Grian a reassuring smile instead, wishing he could lighten the man's mood and take away his stress even if it meant adding it to his own. He would do it in a millisecond for Grian.
“Just try not to show your nerves, that’s what he picks up on.” Reaching into his cupboard, he pulls out two mugs and starts to boil the little sunflower-plaid kettle he keeps in the van.
Grian sighs reluctantly, “I’ve never been any good at that,” he replies, “but I’ll see.”
Suddenly he turns to Scar with a desperately hopeful hint in his eyes, “You’re staying to watch right?”
Placing tea bags in the mugs, Scar doesn't dare turn around as he replies, “Of course, my friend! Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
He glances around and catches sight of Grian smiling back at him, once again setting off that wretched feeling of butterflies in his stomach that Scar is starting to despise, replying with a quiet “thank you.”
🐾‧₊˚✩彡‧₊˚🐾
Scar feels rooted to his position, nerves in his throat, watching as Grian steps into the ring, Maui padding casually alongside his heels, not a care for the crowd or anticipatory energy buzzing around the atmosphere.
Grian’s nervously gazing around the sidelines, glancing hastily from face to face until he latches onto Scar's. Catches his eye, he gives him a reassuring smile, throwing both thumbs up for good measure. Scar can see a small smile tug at the corners of his lips, and he seems to relax slightly, at least enough to set Maui up at the startline.
They manage to get round to the first tunnel before knocking a pole, Grian being too close to the off jump, causing Maui to overcorrect his stride, and drop his legs mid-air, just tipping the pole, but enough to cause it to fall.
Scar feels himself wince as the judge raises her hand in a 5, but Grian doesn't falter, expertly sending him across the dogwalk. Managing to keep up with him, he rear crosses Maui over jump 9, and cues the weaves.
Maui skips through them, his long tan and white hairs fanning out behind him like a cape. He executes the see-saw perfectly, but Scar feels gnawing in his gut as he watches him trip when releasing himself, scrambling to be able to take the next jump, but not being able to correct his stride in time, and his front legs knock the pole, causing the white and blue striped plastic to fall to the grass.
Scar barely has time to react before Grian is thanking the judge, and running out of the ring.
He turns quickly and starts towards the exit arena with haste, jogging around the sidelines and silently praying that Grian isn't taking the result with too much distraught. Really it was a good run, just unlucky, but what is Agility without unluckyness?
Maui knocking 2 poles caused them to gain 10 faults, making them unlikely to qualify, however sometimes the organisers make exceptions, valuing the skills of the handler and dog over the results on the day of tryouts. Scar desperately hopes that this is one of those times, as Grian's skills are unmatched in his height category.
Finally reaching Grian, Scar patiently waits until he's finished rewarding Maui, and has him on lead before giving him a sympathetic smile.
He catches Scar's smile and shakes his head. “I really thought we could do it, I really really thought we could.”
Scar feels the urge to hug him, and almost reaches his arms out, but then out of nowhere the overwhelming thought of being touched hits him, and all of a sudden the urge is gone.
He digs his nails into both palms, desperately trying to think of anything to say instead to help his friend, finally settling on, “there's still time.”
God he wishes so much emotional comfort didn't rely on contact.
Grian nods for a second before sighing. He reaches down to pet Maui, twirling his perfectly long and silky fur between his fingers.
Scar feels a moment of jealousy pass through his mind of Maui's fur, how dare this dog that spends his days rolling in shit and running carefree have the most perfect untangled fur, whereas Scar over here is brushing and detangling his chest-length hair constantly, and putting in the best conditioners, yet still it looks gets tangled immediately and looks like a rat's nest most of the time.
“You did good little guy,” Grian mourners into the fur on his temple, “I just fucked up.” He presses a kiss to his partner's forehead before straightening up to bring him for a cool down lap.
Scar can tell he wants space, so watches them go, and tries to swallow down his own anxiety by going and checking in on Jellie, pushing the thoughts of his friend to the back of his mind.
🐾‧₊˚✩彡‧₊˚🐾
After every competitor has run, the ring closes and the equipment is carried back to its storage containers by many helping hands, eager to get to the results part of the evening.
A group mixed with handlers and spectators alike wait anxiously in the space where the rings were placed 20 minutes previously for the team's qualifying results.
Walking slowly over to join them, Scar drags every step out longer than the one before, stress and nerves attacking his gut with a constant low pain. He spots Grian on the outskirts of the group, and spreads up eagerly in his direction, desperate for a comforting figure. Shuffling between handlers, he scores a spot beside him, and allows himself a breath of ease before turning to Grian.
“I'm so sorry about your run, the poles were so unfortunate”, Scar says by means of greeting, genuine sympathy dripping from his voice.
Grian gives him a sad smile and nods his head. “Ah well, maybe next year.”
Scar scans his face, and sees the facade he has placed over his features, but Scar can read him like a book, and his chest hurts at how broken Grian is by the results of their run, everything he had spent the entire season working towards gone within 40 seconds.
He sympathises with Grian, secretly delighted at how much of a steady dog Jellie is in terms of agility. Once she learns and perfects a command, piece of equipment or sequence, that's it, it's imprinted in her memory.
A dog like Maui is much more difficult, as collies usually are. He can perfect anything in training, but once he gets to a competition everything goes out the window, and poles drop everywhere. He acts as if Grian has never taught him an obstacle, refusing to complete it in the ring, much to his handler's frustration.
Sometimes Maui has a round and it's as if a goddess has blessed him, every single one of the hundreds of hours Grian has begged with him to listen comes back and is worth it for that run, often having them clearing the leaderboard by miles.
It doesn't happen often, but when it does it's just pure poetry in motion, and Scar knows Grian lives and competes for those moments.
Shared nervous silence settles over them both as they wait for the judges to announce results, and Scar wonders for what feels like the millionth time if he did good enough, if he will ever do good enough.
The two of them stand there, in a wordless togetherness for nearly 5 minutes until the judges finally appear, and Scar's nerves return, flicking around his stomach like a cat playing with a mouse before traveling up to his throat, closing his airways and tampering with his nausea for the hell of it.
A black moustached man with slicked back hair, one of Grian's friends Scar recalls, steps up onto a makeshift stage of a crate, and addresses the crowd.
“Thank you all for trying out for the team! Unfortunately we only have limited spots for people to travel to France to represent ‘Red Desert’ in the championship, so we hope you understand that we have analysed every moment of your runs to carefully and precisely pick who is going.”
Scar’s fidgeting gets more intense in anticipation, fingers digging deeply into his palms so harshly he fears he would glance down and find blood. But he doesn't of course, because nothing he experiences is ever that noticeable.
“We have decided that based on this show's results, the team going to represent this year will be:” The man pauses for dramatic effect, nearly sending Scar up to the stage to snatch the page and read it for himself, before he finally continues.
“Joel with Meri, and Scar with Jellie!”
Scar remembers how to breathe again, as people clap for them both, even Grian giving him a half-hearted grin in celebration, being as genuine as he can through his shattered heart.
“Good luck to you both, and we hope you represent our team with confidence and passion.”
🐾‧₊˚✩彡‧₊˚🐾Sitting in bed that evening, Scar runs through the events of the day with the delightfully welcomed sounds of Jellie chewing her prized teddy noisily at the end of the bed as background noise.
Representing his team is a daunting task, especially when this sport and Jellie means everything to him.
What if he makes a complete fool of himself as a handler, and the other teams laugh in pity at him? What if he shows his nerves, and Jellie knocks every pole? What if he screws up and ruins the reputation of his team?
As he's starting to spiral into overthinking, a text from Grian pops up from the top of the screen, momentarily distracting him from his flooded mind. He pushed his stress down as he opens the notification, bottling it into a deeper pit of his mind just like every other time. Distantly he understands that one day everything is going to explode, but he just keeps telling himself that it's not going to be today.
The message is in full caps, but Scar's dyslexia paired with tiredness struggles to read it for a few seconds after he clicks into the chat, before his eyes start to adjust.
Pesky_birb🐾: SCAR I GOT ONTO THE TEAM!!!
Pesky_birb🐾: They never actually looked at the results from previous shows like they should have, and I came out overall on top in the Large height! Mumbo just texted me
Ah so that was his name. Scar briefly tries to file it away in the name storage part of his memory before quickly giving up and continuing to read.
Pesky_birb🐾: Even though me and Maui didn't qualify today, they decided to put me on the team because of my past performance!
Scarred_for_life: That's amazing news!!!!
Scarred_for_life: I mean I love Joel don't get me wrong, but I'm happier to have you with us
Pesky_birb🐾: just you wait, the amount of pranks we can pull on Joel together will be insane
Scarred_for_life: oh YES
Pesky_birb🐾: night Scar xx
Scar's stomach does an unnecessary flip when his mind catches up with what his eyes have just read. He's really starting to hate these feelings.
The two little ‘xx’ stick out to him way more than they should and he spemds a long 10 seconds just staring at them, before muttering quietly to himself, “fuck it, this is what friends do,” and before he can overthink it too much, responds back with;
Scarred_for_life: xxx
Smiling, he places his phone under his pillow, and picks Jellie up off the end of the end of the duvet for some much-needed cuddles. She clutches her precious teddy close between her jaws, but lays it down on Scar's chest, grumbling and judging him for moving her, but deeply not caring too much as she promptly starts chewing it again.
He gazes at her in adoration and allows his lips to split into a grin.
It’s (hopefully) going to be an amazing championship.
🐾‧₊˚✩彡‧₊˚🐾
4 days later, they have their first and only team training before leaving for the twenty hour ferry.
Once Scar pulls into the field of equipment in his van, he opens the door and releases an ecstatic Jellie into the space.
Grian parks beside him in his car, and Joel alongside it in his van.
Jellie runs excitedly up to Grian's door, and when he opens it to greet her, she jumps up onto his lap, wiggling at Maui in excitement, tail carelessly smacking Grian’s face in the process.
Maui wiggles back at her from the passenger seat, and Grian shoos them both out to finish their greeting outside, as he gathers Maui’s training supplies.
Merri jumps into Scar's footwell, and he pats her a brief ‘hello’, before she runs off to join the other two, who are running laps around the agility equipment in excited preparation for training.
Gathering Jellies training things, Scar follows the barking dogs into the agility field.
Their coach has set up a course from a previous world championship for them to train and improve on, which is much appreciated by all three of them, given none of them have any idea what lies in store next week.
As the three handlers walk it, memorising the angles and lines they must take, the dogs run around them, joyfully darting through tunnels and barking at their owners to hurry, eager to get started.
Probing who wants to train on the course first, earns Scar a snarky “I'll go, you can watch and learn from the best,” from Joel as he calls Meri to between his legs.
Scar rolls his eyes at the same time as Grian calls out a “shut up, you know as well as I do that Meri saves your ass most of the time on those courses when you forget where you're going.”
Letting loose a laugh, Scar earns a grin from him, as Joel replies, “ah you're just jealous,” a wink being thrown in for good measure.
Grian ignores him, and calls Maui out of the ring, as Scar steps through the gate with Jellie at his heels, leaving Joel and Meri alone, surrounded by equipment.
They nearly get the whole way round, until Joel isn't quite fast enough for a blind cross, and ends up practically dancing to avoid stepping on Meri, squealing for good measure.
Playful jeering and banter ensues from the other two, perched against the fence, and they earn a deliberate finger being thrown our way in return.
Scar struggles to regain his breath from laughing as Joel repeats the sequence, making the cross this time.
Even though Scar's nerves are far from disappearing about their impending competition, he manages to relax and enjoy their training session, even with paying much more attention to faults in his handling, and limiting them as much as possible to a minimum.
Just as he's about to pull out of the field in the van, Grian runs over and opens his door.
Scar opens his mouth to jokingly ask what he wants, but Grian cuts in before him, saying, “I know you're stressing over this, and believe me, I am too, but we have to try to ignore it, and deal with it ourselves for the dogs’ sake. If they pick up on it, we don't have a chance of getting round the courses in France.” He goes to place a hand on his shoulder, but Scar subtly shys away slightly before he can, and he results in bringing it back to his side awkwardly.
Scar nods, and smiles at him, hoping to convey a silent apology through it.
Grian nods back at him before closing the door, giving it a pat before returning to join Maui in the car.
It's not that Scar doesn't like touch. Actually the opposite, he craves any moment of contact with another person, but it makes his skin crawl sometimes, especially when it's not one of his specific people. He has no idea what it takes to mentally make someone a specific person who can touch him near-freely, but all he knows is that there aren't many of them.
He wishes he could freely touch people, and nothing's physically stopping him, he does try from time to time to engage in those small gestures that seem so easy to everyone else, a touch on the arm when someone has said something funny, or brushing hands while walking, but the feeling of his skin trying to peel itself off always brings him back to shying away, and avoiding it.
He tries to explain it to people, but no one understands. Scar doesn't blame them, he barely understands it, and it haunts him every day.
Most of the time he pretends he can't feel his skin crawling, and shakes the hand anyway out of politeness, hugs the figure anyway out of respect. But it's not something he does willingly, and most people don't even realise he battles internally with himself every time he's near someone, weighing up politeness and comfort, if they'll understand or get upset or lash out.
Maybe one day, it'll be easier, but it won't be today or tomorrow. Hopefully soon. He wants to be normal.
Turning the key in the ignition, Scar pulls out, leaving the comfort of the equipment behind as Jellie happily sticks her head out the passenger window, investigating the scents, and lapping up the air as it flows through her fur.
🐾‧₊˚✩彡‧₊˚🐾
Between team training on Friday, and the ferry leaving on the following Tuesday, Scar fills the days in between with as much training as he can with the limited equipment in his back garden.
Using one of the two sole jumps he owns, he practices Jelly's wing wraps, sending her out around the wing and over the pole, then the opposite direction. Then with the other hand. Then on the other side. Then while running. Then without moving. Scar tries every angle he can, pulling her over the pole, or flicking her ahead of him.
Having no idea what's going to appear in courses in a couple days has him stressing and going over nearly everything he has ever learned, over and over again.
Scar makes sure to stop the session the second he sees fatigue in Jellie, poles dropping, not listening, taking the wrong turn, ect, never letting her get exhausted, and giving her frequent breaks.
Himself on the other hand only stopped to eat, sleep and work. Every turn has to be perfect, they can't afford to lose even a split second of time, so he spends most of his day out in the garden with that jump, whether or not Jellie is with him.
Finally the morning of travel dawns, and Scar groans and grumbles at his alarm, wishing for it to shut up, but to no avail. It continues its rendition of the Star Wars theme tune as he drags himself out of bed to turn it off. Heavy eyes greet him along with a pounding headache from lack of sleep, but he stays standing as he sways in his feet.
Lifting the curtains, the sun hasn't even risen yet, and he turns to gaze lovingly at his soft and welcoming duvet, debating whether representing Red Desert is really that important.
He eventually decides that the competition he's spent nearly his entire Agility career training for is important enough to warrant not diving back into bed and snuggling with Jellie, and sways his way into the bathroom, nearly falling over with exhaustion during his shower, but managing to make it out in one piece.
Lifting a grumbling Jellie from her place of residence at the end of his bed, she snuggles into his hoodie, unhappy with being up so early.
Scar smiles at her, and starts towards the kitchen, placing her down carefully outside, and she looks at him with pure judgment in her eyes for forcing her onto the cold pavement, but eventually she turns away and heads deeper into the garden.
He prepares both of their breakfasts, humming along to his Spotify playlist while watching through the window as the rising sun paints streaks across the blank canvas of the sky, illuminating Jellie’s silhouette.
Letting her back inside, Scar makes her wait in bed before setting her green flecked bowl on the tiles, pausing a second before releasing her, and watching in contemplative exhaustion as she gratefully laps up the food. She's finished in about 5 seconds flat.
Unlike Jellie, and not wanting indigestion, Scar takes his time eating his plate of toast with eggs, accompanied by coffee places in his favourite mug.
Having packed the van the night before, all he has to do is brush his teeth and double check he hasn't forgotten anything for the trip.
Gathering his phone, charger and hair brush, he stuffs them in his front pocket before filling a travel cup with extra coffee to keep him going through the morning. Loading Jellie into the passenger seat, he pulls himself into the driver's, and sets up the sat-nav on his phone.
It's about a 45 minute drive to the port, and he fills that time with blasting music from the van speakers, desperately trying to wake himself up.
Scar texts Grian once they arrive.
Scarred_for_life: hey, made it to the port, where are u?
He get a near-instant response, and if he didn't know better, he would almost have thought Grian was waiting for his text.
Pesky_birb🐾: made it through check-in quickly, so I'm in the loading area
Reacting with a thumbs up, Scar pulls into check-in. Once he makes it through, Scar spots his car, and pulls in behind him. Grian's standing on the polluted sliver of grass located along the side of the area, holding Maui and his other collie, Pearl, on leads.
Switching off the ignition, Scar grabs Jellie's lead, and brings her out beside them for a last stretch of her legs before the long journey.
Grian grins at his arrival, and Scar wanders over towards him, letting the dogs greet each other.
“How are you feeling about the ferry?” he asks casually, trying to hide the unease in his tone. Of course Grian picks up on it immediately nonetheless, replying, “we'll be fine Scar, don't worry, nothing will happen.”
It doesn't cure Scar's nerves, but his words along with a flash of that smile has his mind taking its attention off his overthinking theories of how best both them and the dogs are going to drown.
Nodding his head, Scar gives a sheepish smile back.
After climbing back inside the van, they wait patiently to be allowed to board the ferry, texting each other videos and memes to keep each other occupied and pass the time.
At some point Joel texts that he ran a little late, and has only just arrived. He makes it in just as they start to allow cars to start a slow line towards the ferry, and Scar silently curses him, always one to show up half an hour early to things, unlike his team partner.
Once on board, Scar meets Grian in the pet area, since they decided to pool money and book a bigger crate in the stack, to give all 3 dogs more space and comfort, rather than being on their own in such a long, unknown experience.
Surprisingly neither of them see Joel there with Meri, but Scar just distantly assumes he's at the other section of animal crates.
Giving Jellie one last squeeze, he whispers into her fur, “I’ll be down in a couple hours.”
He's not sure which one of them is going to miss the other's absence more
Closing the crate door, Scar turns as Grian offers his hand out to pull him up. Scar accepts, quickly hiding his arms behind his back after he’s back on his feet.
If Grian notices, he doesn't show it, and Scar follows him up into the midship, letting him lead the way to find their room.
Having received their room keys, all they have to do is find the right number, but it’s a daunting task on a ship this size.
Eventually they come to the right room, and Scar taps their door unlocked with the key, barely having time to take in the room before hearing a call of greeting from behind them that could only be Joel.
“Joel!!” Grian exclaims in frustration, stepping towards the man. “I swear to god I'm never letting you book the room again, I told you specifically to book the option of 4 beds. Cast your gaze in there, and tell me how many beds you see.” His tone is stern, and he’s frustrated but from what Scar can tell, not angry.
Scar follows Joel's gaze inside the room, and they both note the lack of beds. 2 double beds occupy the small space, along with a tiny bathroom.
“Ah.” Is all Joel has to say on the matter, which sends Grian into a frustrated spat of huffing.
He steps inside and closes the door behind him, and it's only then that Scar notices the comically large bag Joel is carefully carrying, slung across one shoulder.
He hazardly questions, “Do I even want to know what you have in there?” Pointing towards it.
A cackle escapes Joel’s lips, and he unzips it to reveal Meri, lying perfectly still and quiet. Scar gasps as he releases her, and she dashes around the room.
Starting to form words he opens his mouth, but Grian beats him to it, exploding with a screech of, “JOEL??!!”
The man in question is doubled over laughing, unable to respond.
“I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU,” Grian adds, and Scar resists the urge to clamp his hands over his ears at the volume of his voice.
Thankfully he lowers it when he speaks again. “Not only have you not booked correctly, you also brought Meri in?? Where in the fuck are we going to sleep?” He tries to stay annoyed with Joel, but there's a smile slinking in between his words.
“I don't care what yous do, but me and Meri are sleeping in this bed.” Joel throws his bags into the bed closest to the door, and Grian turns to Scar with a sudden change in attitude that Scar didn't see coming.
“That's fine, me and Scar can share, right?” He winks at him, and Scar nods quickly, looking away before the blush can spread across his cheeks too obviously, slapping them subtly to knock himself out of whatever stupor Grian puts him in.
The man in question turns towards the other bed, and throws his bags onto the sheets with an aura of finality to his actions.
Well.