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It starts with the Hunter.
There are multiple hideaways dotted around the City designed specifically for Guardian use. They range from colourful to dark, loud to quiet, comfortable to bare. Some are staffed by Guardians, some by frames. Their only commonality is that they are only for Guardians; Cityfolk are simply not allowed in at any time.
Hours after a grueling debrief with the Vanguard over the state of Venus, followed by some aggressive haggling over weapons mods with some City weaponsmiths, the Hunter takes a lift to the bottom of the Tower, and hangs a left when he steps out. Only a couple of hundred feet down the mostly empty road, he ducks under a series of long, beaded curtains and emerges into a colourful room dotted with multiple couches, chairs, and pillows. The lighting is warm and heavy. Shadows gather in corners. A single frame wanders about, sweeping at the thick carpets ineffectually. No one else seems to be around.
With an exhausted groan, the Hunter flops onto one of the wide couches, throws an arm over his eyes, and falls asleep almost instantly. His Ghost lands on his chest with a small thump and begins cataloguing briefings, remaining on constant watch as his Guardian rests.
Scant hours later, an Awoken with white-blond hair pokes her face into the room. Her eyes rove around before landing on the sleeping Hunter on the couch. His Ghost catches sight of her and offers a welcoming blink. Grinning slightly, she bounces over, carefully lifts his legs, and plops down, letting his calves rest on her lap. She pulls out a tablet and begins to flip between scout reports. Her own Ghost materializes over her shoulder and mutters suggestions in her ear as she works.
Shortly after the Warlock’s arrival, the Titan arrives. His bulky frame pushes through the curtains without hesitation, and he makes a beeline for the duo on the couch. He pauses when he gets there, head tilting slightly, trying to decide what to jostle and where to sit. Finally, he very carefully sits up the Hunter, scoots underneath, and lays him back down. The Hunter only grumbles slightly and shifts into a more comfortable position. The Titan lets out a rumbling chuckle as he crosses his arms, tilts his head forward, and rests his eyes. Just for a little while.
Outside, there’s a light rumble, and the skies open wide. Rain falls heavily, rattling against roofs and windows. The Warlock glances at her Ghost but says nothing. She just flips to another report. Better to let them rest, she thinks.
Three more Guardians arrive amidst the rainstorm; a soaking wet Titan, a Warlock that was infinitely more prepared for rain, and a grumpy Hunter that looks annoyed when he realizes there’s no room on the couch. They steal pillows and drag over chairs, and soon, all six Guardians are gathered in a loose ring. They flop over the chairs like cats and bury themselves in warm pillows. They toss blankets over each other to ward off the chill and bump heads together as they relax.
And they are content. There are no gods to slay today, no City-ending threats to defuse, no dangerous Fallen or Vex or Cabal or Hive. Their allies are safe, and their enemies are quiet. For now, there is nothing to do but rest.
The Hunter cracks an eye open and peers at his fireteam ringed around him. He smirks and goes back to sleep.
All is good.