Chapter Text
It felt like thousands of years had passed to Davenport, but it had only been sixty- or sixty-one? Exhaustion was taking its toll- his own sense of whether he was awake or dreaming had been slipping. With the long hours it took to stay just one step ahead of the Hunger, it’s no wonder he doesn’t get much sleep.
Still, he keeps up appearances. He was their leader, the man responsible for the mess they were in. And goddamn it if he wouldn’t put in twice as much effort trying to get them out of it.
Leaning back in his desk chair, Davenport pinches the bridge of his nose. It seemed like he always had a headache, when he finished reading something. Poring through the few texts they’d managed to scavenge on planar entities had filled his whole day, except for a small break for lunch where he’d laughed and joked as normally as he could with the others.
It was wonderful seeing Lup and Barry grow closer; sometimes they felt like the only bright spot onboard. He fondly remembers meeting them both, in their original reality. Barry had been a highly respected researcher on planar travel, as well as more secretly studying necromancy. His expertise with life and death allowed him to begin research on an experiment to remain past death as a lich entity, although as of yet he had asked Barry to keep these experiments a secret.
Lup and Taako he’d run into when asked to sit in on senior Academy students as they completed their magic practicum. They had insisted on completing the test together, at whatever difficulty the instructors found acceptable for two mages. They passed with flying colors in half the next shortest time, and Davenport offered them a job on the spot. Taako jumped at the chance to learn more about magic, and Lup had just been glad to see more of what was out there (and light a few baddies on fire given the chance).
Davenport misses that, back when they’d all just gotten together, the excitement of it all. Science and adventure always just around the bend while planning their voyage. He’s not regretful that he brought them along and had a family on this neverending voyage, or fled their previous world when the Hunger appeared. But he would give anything to have never seen the Hunger at all.
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Lup and Taako are out wandering with Merle, looking at plants for those with unusual magical properties. In a fit of extraordinary bravery Lucretia has agreed to accompany Magnus out to visit a nearby village to see and document their trading system. Only Barry and Davenport remain behind, Barry working out in front of the ship examining specimens in the bright sun while Davenport reads sedately through Lucretia’s first journal. If pressed he would claim to be looking for clues from their first encounter with the Hunger, but really he’s just dozing and reminiscing. They’d landed and seen the eyes ten months prior, had located the Light within a week of landing, so they had two months before catastrophe.
Well, they should have had two months.
Davenport is still sitting legs propped up, reading Lucretia’s journal, when he gets a call from Lup’s stone of farspeech. Even before answering, Davenport feels a pit grow in the center of his chest.
“Holy shit dude, you need to book it,” Lup stutters out in a hurried whisper. “Dav, the Hunger’s here early; it landed a couple minutes ago basically on top of us.”
“How? How is- No, no, unimportant. How far away is the Hunger from the ship?”
“I’d say a few minutes at most,” she says, followed by “Oh shit,” and then Lup’s stone cuts out.
Booting up the exterior scanners takes precious seconds- why had they thought they were safe?- and the image that clicks onto the screen shows Barry fighting agents of the Hunger not 30 yards from the ship. Davenport doesn’t hesitate; he slams the hatch button to close the ship up, and the ship launches upwards seconds before Barry is cut down.
Davenport grits his teeth and ignores the pang of yet more death, dodges the Hunger’s tendrils trying to bring the ship to safety. Stomach acid crawls up his throat, acrid panic at being the last man standing. Lucretia and Magnus’ stones of farspeech are reported destroyed just as the ship leaves the atmosphere of this world. The Hunger is still reaching out to grab the ship, and Davenport guides them to the edge of this reality with opal darkness like a clutching hands behind him.
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When he dissolves into light and is reformed, Davenport is terrified. Every time so far that they’ve died they’ve all come back, but they have no idea what the limits of this game are. He’d nearly lost everyone , lost the ship, any hope of stopping the Hunger before it ate all of reality.
His panic is so severe, it takes Barry half a minute of gently shaking Davenport to get his attention.
“Cap, you were having a nightmare- seemed pretty bad. You doing alright?” And no, no- that doesn’t make sense. Davenport sits up, sees Lucretia’s journal tumbled to the floor, and pieces together his thoughts into a semblance of order.
“I… I was dreaming?” His lips are dry, skin pulsing with heat and discomfort and weakness. Davenport doesn’t have nightmares; he’d had Taako charm them away a long time ago, tired of wasting valuable rest time on useless worries. No one’s found him like this in years.
So he reacts the way he always does to fear- locks it down, goes into captain mode.
“Thank you for your concern, I’m fine. I just need to go wash up, must’ve fallen asleep- too many long hours.” His words hitch at the end, stupid fucking weakness pushing its way out into the light, and Barry frowns.
“Dav, are you su-”
“I’m fine!” The outburst is too loud, belies his words, and it’s all Davenport can do to stand up, muscles taut, and march his way to his bathroom before letting the tears flow out. He doesn’t sob, doesn’t allow himself to attach any particular significance to them. He just lets them leave, washes his face once they stop, and trudges back out to the common area where Barry- damn him- waits patiently.
Davenport hops into a chair and sighs. Barry doesn’t seem to have any intention of starting the conversation. That’s one thing he definitely has over on the rest of IPRE, barring Lucretia- the man doesn’t rush unduly into conversation. If it’d been Lup or Magnus, he’d already be getting hugs and told how it’s okay to cry and other shit that doesn’t apply to him.
Finally, he decides to open up the small amount he thinks (hopes) is both the bare minimum and a healthy amount for his sanity. “Had a nightmare. It won’t happen again, I don’t think; Taako gave me a charm a while ago to block them. Just need a top-up, I’m guessing.”
Barry nods. “I won’t ask about it- I’ve got enough fodder for my own. If you want to tell someone, Merle’s got a good ear for confessionals and knows when to stay quiet. But Dav-” Barry shifts, lets him see the exhaustion on his face, “if you’re having trouble, you gotta do something. I don’t know what- lords know I have my own shit- but you have to fix it or learn to deal. We’re a team, but you’re our Captain. If you go down, we all go down- and the solution ain’t to bottle it up.”
Davenport nods, trying to consider what Barry’s saying but trapped in a maze of responsibility. He probably won’t change his behavior much, but he appreciates the concern nonetheless.
When Barry calls the rest of IPRE and has them all trek back to have family dinner (with a smothering dollop of concern from Magnus and Lup), he is significantly less appreciative. The dream he has that night- of a future wrought in gold and joy- almost makes him reconsider having Taako renew the charm. Almost.