Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Guardian?”

There’s a voice coming from somewhere above his head. His eyes are hesitant to open, the lids heavy and sluggish, and his limbs feel much the same. A groan escapes his lips and it quickly turns into a cough.

“Oh! Guardian?”

There’s the voice again. Prying his eyes open is a monumental task, one he immediately regrets when a bright light flashes in his eyes. He squeezes his eyes shut and drags a hand onto his face.

“Oh, shit—the light, sorry!” The brightness no longer prods at his eyelids and he manages to squint his eyes open again. What he sees is—it can’t be a bird, can it, though it’s flying right above him. He blinks, his eyes opening further, and sees a metal contraption faintly illuminated by the moonlight. It spins in the air and he jumps in place—as much as he can while still lying down.

“I’ve finally found you!” The source of cheery voice certainly does seem to be coming from what looks like an angular creature made of metal. A light, less harsh this time, flashes from its orb center and scans over his body. It does another twirl in the air. “You’re in tiptop shape, now! But you’ve been, well, a pile of bones for a long, long time. Take some time to adjust!”

He still feels something akin to a pile of bones as he pushes himself onto his elbows. The inexplicable contraption hovers close in front of his face, looking at him—expectantly? Its circular middle flashes in almost a blink. “Can you talk? It’s okay if you can’t, I just—”

“What—” His voice comes out rasp, throat dry and scratchy, and he coughs again. “Are you?”

It bobs up and down in the air. “I’m your Ghost! The Traveler made me—well, made all of us Ghosts. Oh, the Traveler is the big white ball in the sky, you’ll see it soon enough. It’s our calling in life to find our Guardians and bring them back from the dead to protect humanity!”

He stares at the hovering creature—this “Ghost”—his head spinning. 

“So…I was—”

“Dead, yeah.” Its shell sags for a moment before bouncing back. “But now you’re alive again! And as long as you have me, you’ll stay that way.”

The light coming from the creature’s eye is not very bright, but he still finds himself squinting as it flashes its gaze on him. He takes a shaky breath. This must be some kind of strange dream, he thinks. In a few minutes, surely he’ll wake up and find himself back—

Where?

Ice spikes through his veins. Glancing up, his neck swivels side to side as he tries to make out his surroundings in the darkness. He finds himself lying on the grass, within a smattering of trees, and can faintly see a few pinpricks of light in the distance. Where would he wake up? Where is this ?

“Hey? Guardian?”

The buzzing in his ears nearly drowns out the creature’s voice. His stomach twists into knots. He opens his mouth to speak, forcing his voice up through his throat.

“Who am I?”

“Oh—oh, gosh, okay, I knew this was coming!” The creature flutters up and down in the air. In a voice likely meant to be a whisper, but coming out considerably louder, it mumbles, “Okay, okay, you know what to say here!” It flies into his chest with a little too much force. “Even though you don’t remember who you are,” it says in a well-practiced cadence, “it’ll be okay! You’re my Guardian, and we’ll figure out who you want to be from now on, together.”

When his only reply is a blank stare, the creature glances up from where it rests on his chest. “Um. Are you okay?”

He blinks down at it. With how earnest it sounds, it’s difficult not to believe it. He breathes out a weak laugh. “I am not certain, to be perfectly honest.”

It leaps up from his chest and gently bumps itself against his forehead. He doesn’t even have time to be surprised. 

“Well, I can’t answer who you are, but maybe I can answer something else for you!”

Many questions swim in his mind, but—

“Why…why can I not remember who I am?”

It hums thoughtfully. “That’s, um—a whole Guardian thing. Everyone gets a fresh start, but…no one can remember who they were before.” It sighs. “We Ghosts aren’t allowed to tell, either, even if we know.”

“Right,” he mutters, shaking his head. “It is somewhat of a relief to know it isn’t just me.” Next, his attention turns to his so-called Ghost. “Then…what are you ?” He plucks it out of the air, cradling it gently between his palms. Far from being agitated, it nuzzles into his hands with a hum. “How are you suspended in the air? Where is your voice coming from?”

Its eye flashes in a blink. 

“My voice comes from me, but, uh…I don’t really know the technical stuff. Huh! Wait—shit, I guess that’s another question I can’t answer.”

He releases his grasp on his Ghost, but it still rests perfectly content in his hands. “Alright. What can you tell me, then?”

“We’re in the EDZ!” Another blank stare. “Um, the European Dead Zone.”

He frowns. “Why is it a dead zone?”

“A really bad thing happened a long, long time ago—called the Collapse. Lots of people died. You might have died then, too! But me—us Ghosts were born right after.”

“By this—Traveler,” he says, and his Ghost nods. “Right. I see.”

“Oh! Really?”

He clears his throat. “Actually, that might have been a lie.” A gust of wind rushing by makes him shiver.

“Okay, well, forget about that, for now we need to get you out of the cold. Can you get up?” the Ghost asks as it flitters around him.

Good question , he muses. He pushes himself off the ground, getting to his knees. Some strength seems to have returned to him. Next is to his feet, where he manages to keep standing, albeit on wobbly legs. 

“Fuck yeah!” his Ghost exclaims. “Now we just gotta—uh. Get you somewhere safe.” It twists in the air, the small light of its eye flashing over the trees and grass around them. “I can get you to Devrim, probably. Though he might be asleep by now! Shit.” It flies back in front of his face, seeming to motion him to follow. “Let’s give it a try, anyway. Then I can answer more of those questions! Maybe!”

As they make their way through a tangle of trees, faint lights set atop tall poles flicker beyond the branches, though it pales in comparison to the glow of the moon. Reaching the road, it seems ill-fit for travel by anything but on foot, large cracks and gaps adorning the route. 

His Ghost takes a long look down one direction, then the other. “Okay, I think it’s—this way!” Following the gaze of his Ghost, he studies each path thoroughly, though there is still no spark of familiarity in his mind. All he has is his little guiding light, who he dutifully follows down the winding road.

“Crow?”

Glint’s voice cuts through the hum of Crow’s sparrow. The light of the day gave way to the full moon’s glow hours ago. He speeds down the cracked streets of the EDZ, relishing the bite of the wind against his face.

“Um. Crow? We passed the Accipiter a while back…”

Crow doesn't want to ignore his Ghost, but—he also doesn’t want to think right now. He doesn’t want to think about going back to his apartment for a sparse meal and a fitful sleep, doesn’t want to think about the poor plant he’s left dying and neglected on his windowsill, doesn’t want to think about barely being able to meet Ikora or Zavala’s gaze even as he begs them for work, for something to keep him occupied, for him to do something good —to prove he’s not him —

Crow takes a shaky breath and glances up at the moon. Out here, at least, the hum of the sparrow under his legs, the scenery passing by in a blur, his face free from the mask—

At least for a moment, he can simply exist .

Glint pokes out of his spot in Crow’s hood. “If you don’t want to talk, then fine, but for the love of the Traveler, could you at least—” Glint is jostled as Crow jerks his sparrow sharply with the curve of the road. “Gah! Slow down a little?!”

Sighing under his breath, Crow finally lets up on the accelerator. “Sorry, Glint.” 

“Hmph!” Glint grumbles, but there’s no heat behind it. “I know you know this, but—you know you can tell me anything, right?”

A small smile tugs at Crow’s lips. “I know.” He also knows his Ghost, infinitely patient, won’t push him to talk about more than he wants to. (And he knows his Ghost is too good for him, but he doesn’t voice that aloud.) “Sorry,” he says again. “It’s just—this really is a nice night.”

Glint doesn’t call out his obvious deflection, instead humming softly and glancing up at the sky. “The moon is lovely.”

The knot in Crow’s stomach loosens. He reaches back and gently pats Glint through his hood. 

“And—you’re right; I should get heading back by now.”

“But…I didn’t say anything.”

Crow smiles slyly. “I could hear you thinking it.” 

“Well, then maybe you could have said so a little soon—Crow! Watch out!”

Crow’s eyes snap to the road ahead. There’s the faintest pinprick of light hovering in the air and a form Crow can just barely make out in the darkness, frozen in the middle of the road. He brakes hard and his sparrow skids to the side, stopping inches before colliding with a guardrail. “Shit,” he hisses, glancing at the road for any sign of the figure. Finding nothing, his heart pounds in his chest.

“Guardian!” The source of the light—a Ghost—twists frantically in the air, flashing its light in every direction. “Guardian, are you okay?!”

Crow jumps off his sparrow, running towards the Ghost. “Shit, I’m so sorry, I didn’t expect anyone to be on the road at this time of night.” The Ghost spares a brief glance at him before resuming its search.

“Just—help me look for my Guardian. Please! He’s not even one day old!”

Crow nods and waves Glint over, who brings his own source of light—drowning out the dim illumination of the street lamp above. 

A faint, shaky breath catches Crow’s attention—seemingly coming from nowhere, but if he squints, he makes out the faintest shimmering distortion against the base of a tree. “Think we found ‘em,” he calls out, running over to the nearly-invisible figure.

“Hey,” he says, kneeling down in front of the New Light. “I’m really sorry about, uh—almost running you over. You’re not hurt, are y—”

Crow is cut off by the unfamiliar Ghost zipping past his head and straight into the chest of its Guardian.

“Oh you’re here, thank the fucking Traveler!” its muffled voice calls out.

An invisible hand cradles the Ghost, and the Lightbearer lets out a brittle sigh. 

“What is happening to me?” he whispers.

“Yeah, this stuff—your powers—they can really mess with you at first,” Crow explains in a gentle voice. “But nothing bad is happening, promise. It’ll subside eventually.” He reaches a hand out. “Are you okay otherwise?”

The Lightbearer swallows. Crow feels the warm brush of the Lightbearer’s fingers against his, gently clasping his hand. “I believe so, yes. The—my ‘Ghost’ warned me of the peril before we collided.” With a sharp exhale, the veil of invisibility falls away and the Lightbearer comes into view. He blinks up at Crow with eyes of a deep brown, wisps of dark hair that have escaped his long braid framing his face. His stare bores into Crow, and now is a bad time for Crow to realize just how handsome he finds this Guardian’s face.

“Your eyes…” The Lightbearer squints. “Why do they glow?”

Crow blinks in turn. “Well, because I’m Awoken.” A blank stare is his only response. “And…that doesn’t mean anything to you, huh.”

He shakes his head. “No. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Crow looks down at their still clasped hands. “That’s, well…kind of a long story. For now, let’s get you off the ground. Can you stand okay?” Crow gets to his feet, and the Lightbearer follows after. Crow flashes him a crooked smile.

“It appears so.” He brushes the dirt off his pants and breathes a sheepish chuckle. The wind whistles through the trees and he tugs his arms around himself with a shiver. 

“I know I should have made you thicker armor,” his Ghost laments.

“Crow, you should—” Glint starts to whisper, but Crow is already pulling off his cloak. 

“Here,” he says, holding it out to him. “Try this on.”

The Guardian blinks, taking the cloak from him and carefully pulling it over his shoulders. “Thank you,” he says as he tugs it over his arms. The corners of his eyes crinkle with his smile, and—no, it’s still not a good time for Crow to realize what a nice smile he has, too. 

The Lightbearer’s Ghost’s sheepish gaze turns to Crow. “I, uh…just realized I hadn’t told him about his powers at all. So—thank you for that, also.”

Crow waves it off. “Hey, least I could do. I’m always happy to help a New Light out. Especially one I almost ran over.”

“In that case—” The Ghost glances around. “Do you know which way Devrim is? I’m not even sure if we’re going in the right direction.”

Crow clicks his tongue. “Unless you were planning on taking the scenic route, you were pretty off-course. And I doubt even Devrim is still at his station, right now.” The Ghost swears under its breath and Crow considers the pair. “Tell you what—to make up for this whole incident, why don’t I give you a ride? And…if you’re comfortable with it, I could take you back to my apartment for the night, get you settled with the Vanguard in the morning. Or…set you on your way somewhere else, if that’s what you wanted to do.” Crow shrugs. “Your choice.”

The Lightbearer and his Ghost glance at each other. “Really?” the Ghost exclaims with a twirl. “That would be a big help.”

Crow waves them over to where his sparrow rests on the side of the road. He mounts it and pats the empty space behind him. The Lightbearer doesn’t make to move, instead eyeing the sparrow warily. His brow is set in a frown. “You would have me ride…this?” 

“It’ll be fine,” Crow insists. “Now that you’re not on the wrong side of it. C’mon, Guardian or no, I don’t want you to freeze out here.” As if on cue, a strong gust of wind whips past them and the Lightbearer tugs Crow’s cloak around him with a shiver.

“Well…” He walks a circle around the sparrow, eyes narrowed as he examines it, and Crow watches with amusement. “I…suppose if you say it will be alright.” With careful, deliberate movements, he climbs onto the sparrow behind Crow. 

“I’ll try not to go too fast, promise. You can go ahead and grab onto me if that’ll hel—oof!” Before the words are finished leaving his mouth, the Lightbearer’s arms are squeezing tight around his middle.

“Ah, my apologies,” comes a sheepish voice from behind him as his grip loosens.

Crow pats his arm and looks back at him with a grin. “You ready?”

Lips pressed tight together, he still manages a small smile back and nods. “Yes.”

Crow starts the sparrow and hears a muffled gasp as he accelerates. Though his fingers twitch to up the speed, he sets a slow pace for the sake of his passenger, carefully watching the road for any gaps or cracks.

“So responsible,” Glint whispers in his ear, and Crow snorts as he swats him away.

The Lightbearer pokes his head forward to look up at Glint. “You also have a ‘Ghost’?” 

Crow glances over his shoulder. “Sure do. I'm a Guardian, just like you.”

“Are you able to disappear as well?”

“I can! Probably not the best time to demonstrate that, though.”

“Also, he prefers being flashy,” Glint chimes in.

“Yeah, yeah,” Crow says as he rolls his eyes. “Why d’you ask?”

The Lightbearer hums. “I…am struggling to understand much of what I’ve heard about—or seen—today. Part of me feels as though I’m still in some strange dream.”

“Yeah,” Crow breathes. “I know what you mean. It’s scary, you know? Not knowing who you are.” Crow can feel the Lightbearer nod against his shoulder. “But I can tell you right now—you’re not alone.”

The Lightbearer’s arms squeeze a little tighter around Crow’s middle. “Thank you,” he whispers. “You’re very kind.”

Something prickles in Crow’s chest and he shrugs lopsidedly.

“I…when I was first rezzed, I had a…rough time.” He can feel Glint’s eye fall on him. “I don’t want you to go through anything like I did, is all.”

“Thank you,” the Lightbearer says again, voice full of warmth. “How…might I address you by?”

Crow blinks. “Oh, shit. I, uh—haven’t introduced myself yet, huh?” He raises a hand in greeting, quickly glancing over his shoulder. “I’m Crow.”

“Crow,” the Lightbearer slowly repeats. 

“Yeah, like the bird. And my Ghost, that’s Glint.”

Glint bobs in the air. “Hi!” 

“Crow,” he says, “and Glint. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He falls silent for a few moments. “I’m afraid I have no name to offer in return.”

Crow waves him off. “Don’t worry about it. You’ll figure that out in time. It took a while for me and Glint to get our names, didn’t it?”

“Crow gave me mine first. After almost naming me ‘Sparky’!”

Crow snorts. “Hey, I still think that one would have been pretty cute.”

Crow can hear the Lightbearer whisper to his Ghost, “Did you have a name as well?”

“Nope!” it cheerfully exclaims. “I’ve been waiting this whole time for my Guardian to give me one.”

“Then…I shall do my best not to disappoint.”

Crow smiles to himself and Glint settles on his shoulder, giving him a knowing look. 

“What?” Crow mutters with a sideways glance. “It’s a nice night.”

If Glint could grin, he certainly would right now. “It sure is.”

The rest of the ride is spent in a comfortable silence, blessedly free of any roaming pike gangs or imminent collisions. The night sky is clear, the moon now low in the sky, and Crow finds comfort in their leisurely journey. It doesn’t take long to reach the clearing where Crow parked the Accipiter and he brings the sparrow to a stop.

“And—we’ve arrived, safe and sound.” Crow pats the Lightbearer’s arm. “See, that wasn’t too bad, was it?”

He slowly unfurls his arms around Crow’s middle, once again tugging Crow’s cloak around him. “It was…not as terrible as I was expecting.”

Crow chuckles. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” He slides off the sparrow and holds a hand out to him. “That’s the hard part over, at least.”

With a glance at Crow’s hand, the Lightbearer clasps it and slowly climbs off the sparrow. “I’m quite relieved to hear that,” he says with a huff of laughter.

Crow gently tugs him forward. “This is the next part of our trip,” he says with a wave to his ship. He gestures at Glint to lower the ramp. “She’s a smooth flight, promise.”

The Lightbearer’s jaw falls open as he stares up at the Accipiter, then turns his wide-eyed gaze to Crow. A short sound of confusion leaves his throat before he sighs, rubbing at his eyes. “I am sure,” he says in a cracked voice. 

Crow has to stifle a grin. “Sorry to keep bombarding you with weird shit,” he says, leading the Lightbearer up the ramp. Once inside, Crow releases his hand. “There’s not much to see, but take a look around if you want.”

The Radiant Accipiter has room for two and little else, though Crow’s knickknacks are scattered on the sparse free surfaces—the now-tattered remnants of his burial shroud, once white but now a dingy grey; a spare stash of throwing knives Glint is always chiding him to keep locked up somewhere more secure; spare screws and tools he uses to tinker with his guns. The Lightbearer’s gaze dances curiously over all of it on their way to the cockpit.

Crow plops down in one of the two seats and motions the Lightbearer to take the other. He sits down, his curious gaze now not leaving the window. “Is this where you reside, then?”

Crow waves his hand. “Most of the time, no. Not unless I’m out on an assignment for a while. It’s a little too cramped for that.” He turns to him with a wide grin. “But this is the gal who will take us to where I do.”

The Lightbearer furrows his brow as he meets Crow’s gaze. The cockpit isn’t really a cockpit, windows stretching far over where a console should be, granting them an unobstructed view outside the ship. Crow directs his thoughts to the Accipiter and it begins its gradual ascent. The Lightbearer jumps in his seat, gripping tight onto his chair. 

“Wh—what is happening?!"

Crow rests a hand on his arm. “Believe it or not, we’re going to go even faster this time.” The trees grow smaller beneath them, roads twisting and winding far, the moon shimmering against the dark surface of the sea.

The Lightbearer’s grip on the arms of the chair only tightens. His mouth hangs open as he stares at the ever shrinking landscape. “What on earth—?”

“As I’m sure you’ve noticed,” Crow says as he stretches out his arms, “we’re flying.” 

He blinks, staring outside the window, then blinks again, as if that would dispel what had to be an illusion. “Flying.” 

“Flying,” Crow says with a nod. His lips quirk in a smile as he watches the Lightbearer lean forward for a better view, curiosity overtaking trepidation. How many times has Crow taken in this view without a second thought?

“How…” The Lightbearer’s eyes are wide as his gaze sweeps over the windows.

“Well,” Crow drawls, “this ship has a mind of its own. Literally. We’re still not sure how it works, exactly.”

His brow twists in confusion. He sits back in his chair with a thump, and for emphasis repeats once more under his breath, “Flying.”

Crow stifles a giggle with his hand. “Don’t think too much about it. Just go ahead and enjoy the view.”

Gaze shifting to Crow, the Lightbearer’s expression softens. The landscape shifts as they leave the EDZ behind, the dense forest giving way to rolling hills and snow-capped mountains. He carefully rests a hand against the window and a soft smile forms on his lips. “It is beautiful.”

Crow leans forward and follows his gaze. “Yeah,” he whispers. “It is.”

The Accipiter sets course to the Last City, cutting through the night sky—and though Crow is rough on his ships, just this once, he makes sure to be gentle.