Chapter Text
"It is her, I told you it was! The Firehawk!"
“The Firehawk’s back!”
Ignoring the whispering voices outside the door, Lilith pressed her fingers against her temples and fought the urge to groan out loud. It had been a very long few days filled with fear, exhaustion and stress. She'd hoped that being reunited with her friends and allies would leave her euphoric, but all she felt was the intense pressure of other people's expectations.
Hell, I almost miss being just some psycho clan's demigod. At least the Children of the Firehawk mostly just set fire to each other.
Glancing up, her eyes fell on Zane, lying still in the bed beside her chair. He'd collapsed not long after their "rescuers" had arrived, his injuries and exhaustion finally catching up with him as soon as the fight was over. Lilith herself had slept for almost 48 hours after they arrived at the new Sanctuary, built from the bones of the old one. She didn't have extensive blood loss and a lingering concussion to contend with, though, so she was allowed to be up and about as soon as she felt strong enough. As for Zane, Tannis (as the closest thing they had to a doctor) had decided it was best to keep him sedated for the first few days, to allow his body and his brain time to heal. They all knew better than to hope the stubborn bastard would actually agree to being confined to bed-rest for any length of time.
Lilith wasn’t exactly comfortable with this, considering what had happened the last time he'd been medicated without his consent, but she had to agree he needed the rest. He hadn't had a proper night's sleep in weeks. She hadn't either, but with her powers restored she could already feel herself healing and regenerating with each passing day. Even the scars from where she'd been burned by Troy's shock device were slowly fading away.
Every tiny spark still made her flinch, though.
“I have to say, you make a great test subject.”
Running a hand through her hair, she shook her head as if to shake the echoes out of her brain. As she brought her hand back to her lap—ignoring the way it trembled ever so slightly—she felt an odd frisson of surprise at the sight of the blue twisting lines snaking up her arm. After so many years of being a Siren, it was amazing how quickly she’d become used to being an ordinary human.
Nobody is taking my wings from me ever again.
Looking down at Zane’s hands where they lay resting on top of the bedcovers, she marvelled at the sight of pale, clean skin, littered with tiny scars. He’d spent so much of his life soaked in blood that it almost seemed unnatural to see him so clean. She knew better than to ever tell him that, though. Her own hands never quite felt clean of the blood she’d spilt over the years. How much worse must that feeling be for him?
Voices chattered again in the hall outside and she winced, looking back at Zane to check if he’d been disturbed, but he didn’t stir. Tannis had warned her she was taking him off the meds today, to see if he woke up naturally, but whatever she had last dosed him with must’ve been strong stuff.
She hoped he wouldn’t be too angry with them for doing that, once he woke up.
“Go on, knock. I dare you!”
Muffled giggling.
Oh, for fuck’s sake…
She got to her feet and walked quietly to the door, taking a breath before pulling it open just enough to see through the gap. “Something I can help you with?” she demanded.
The three people outside the door looked young enough to be doing something this stupid, but still old enough to know better. Maybe I should talk to Amara about keeping the recruits in line, she thought, before remembering that she wasn’t the commander anymore.
Still, these idiots didn’t need to know that.
“Oh, no… We, uh…”
“Sorry, Firehawk! We just—”
Her eyes narrowed. “This is an infirmary. People are resting. Unless it’s an emergency, go away.”
They scattered and she closed the door, leaning against it with a sigh. She had probably been too sharp with them but honestly, she felt like an animal in a zoo. Everyone wanted a moment of her time, when she felt like she could barely get a moment for herself. It was painfully ironic that as soon as she’d been reunited with her people, all she wanted was to be away from everyone for just one fucking minute.
If not for the fact that she didn’t trust anyone here enough to leave Zane alone while he was so vulnerable, she’d have left to seek solitude elsewhere. It was probably overthinking on her part, but she wasn’t going to take the risk that someone might want revenge on him for what happened.
What he did, you mean.
She pressed her hands against her face. He didn’t have a choice.
Unbidden, memories began to rise to the front of her mind. Glowing claws stabbing a crying prisoner in the back of the neck; cold, blank eyes staring through a curtain of bloodstained hair; hysterical laughter echoing from behind metal bars.
That wasn’t him. He wasn’t himself.
"Kill ye…kill ye dead…"
ENOUGH.
She slammed her fist against the metal wall, hard enough to hurt. The pain radiating from her knuckles made her eyes water, but it also served to dissipate the shadows creeping in around the edges of her thoughts.
“Ugh…”
A soft groan snapped her attention to the bed where she was stunned to see Zane was stirring. She must have made more noise than she’d realised.
Shit. Oh god, oh hell, why did he have to wake up now ?
Lilith moved closer, then took a hasty step back. She didn’t want to be the first thing he saw looming over him; then again, maybe a familiar face would help if he was confused and started to panic? She had no idea what the right call was here.
Dammit, where the hell was Tannis when she needed her?
Aww, you scared?
She scowled. No. I just… don’t think he’d appreciate being crowded.
Sure. Keep telling yourself that.
The sneering echo (why the fuck did it have to sound so much like Troy?) finally faded away as she looked back down at Zane, just in time to see his eyes flicker open. For several seconds he just stared up at the ceiling, expression flickering from confusion to anxiety. Last time she’d seen that look on his face, he’d just had an intense flashback and had no idea where he was. Now, in unfamiliar surroundings, it was no surprise he was disorientated.
I should say something.
Say what? What could she say that wouldn’t either be a banal reassurance or a stupid question? He surely wouldn’t want to talk about what they’d just been through and asking how he was feeling only invited much-deserved sarcasm.
“That you, Lil?”
His voice was quiet and rough from disuse, but more lucid than she'd expected. Surprised that he’d broken the silence first, she took a moment to gather her thoughts before she spoke. “Y-Yeah. I’m here.”
“We safe?”
She nodded, then realised he couldn’t see her and said aloud, “Yeah. They’ve rebuilt Sanctuary. Well, it’s a work in progress but… Yeah, we’re safe here.”
He closed his eyes again and didn’t reply for almost a full minute. Just as she thought he might have fallen back to sleep, he spoke again. “Shitshow, that was.”
The understatement startled a laugh out of her. “That’s one way of putting it.”
His lips curved into a small bleak smile as he continued, eyes still closed, “Who's ‘they’?”
“What?”
“Ye said ‘they've rebuilt Sanctuary’. Who?”
Who survived, in other words.
“Oh, well, Moxxi and Ellie pulled everyone together. Your crew are all here, plus some of mine. Even some new recruits.”
She hoped he wouldn't ask specifically which of them weren't here, but it seemed he was still too tired and unfocused to push for those details. Small mercy, but she’d take it.
“Good. S’good.” He opened his eyes, slowly turning his head to face her. His eyes traced down her bare arm, following the blue lines swirling down to her wrist, and as he did so some of the tension seemed to leave his expression. “So, how’s it feel? Bein’ the Firehawk again?”
“Honestly?”
Uncomfortable. Awkward. Demanding.
Maybe full honesty wasn’t the best policy right now. “Weird. But good. I think.”
“Mmm.”
She watched his face as he drew a breath, catching the flicker of pain before he composed his features. “Tannis said you might be sore. Want some painkillers?”
Zane shook his head, then winced. “Maybe just a drop. No more’n that, I’ve slept enough.”
His tone didn’t give anything away but she eyed him thoughtfully as she pulled out her Echo, wondering if he suspected that he’d been drugged. If he did, he wasn't pressing the point right now and for that she was grateful.
When Zane had first opened his eyes to a completely unfamiliar ceiling, coupled with the fact that he wasn’t lying on cold metal or rough dirt, he’d genuinely considered the idea that he might have gone mad.
Had to happen sometime. You’ve finally lost your last marble, Zane boy.
At least, that was the only explanation his exhausted mind could come up with until he’d realised there was someone else in the room with him. Had to be Lilith; he could hear her fidgeting. Now that had been familiar. Perhaps the Calypsos had just moved them somewhere else, as part of some new game?
But that wasn’t right either.
He’d killed the Calypsos. Hadn’t he?
Only when he’d seen her tattoos, those familiar blue swirls and dots flowing down her arm and up the side of her neck, had the memories come flooding back. They really had made it out. By all rights they should not have survived all of that but somehow, incredibly, they’d done it. There were still stretches of time he couldn't quite recall in detail, though. It was like there was a barrier between him and his memories. He knew they were there; he could feel their edges every time he tried to reach for them. He just couldn’t focus hard enough to draw out more than fragments.
The thumping headache really didn’t help.
“I am working on that, you know.”
Shite, AGAIN? You really gotta work on keeping your inside thoughts inside, boyo.
He cracked a wry smile as Tannis neatly tore open a box of pills. “Sorry, doc. Not tryin’ to be impatient.”
“No, I imagine you would prefer to be an outpatient,” she replied, utterly straight-faced.
There was a pause.
“Tannis, did you just—”
“Yes. That was a joke. You are permitted to laugh, so long as it does not cause you more discomfort.” The Eridian expert (and Siren apparently, now that would take some getting used to) held out the pills and a drink to take them with.
Zane chuckled obligingly, taking the meds with some degree of difficulty given that even the small glass of water felt like it weighed a ton to his kitten-weak muscles. Still, he managed to avoid spilling it down himself so he’d count that as a win. Tannis took the glass from him and set it on the side table, along with the rest of the pills. “No more of these for at least three hours,” she said firmly. “They are terribly addictive and can do horrendous things to your insides, in large enough doses.”
He must have visibly blanched because she rolled her eyes and continued, “Obviously I have calculated the correct dose for you to avoid that unfortunate side effect.”
“Obviously,” he muttered, eyeing the little box as if it might explode. Or worse, make him explode.
“Tannis, stop scaring him. I'll take it from here.” Lilith rolled her eyes and headed for the door, holding it slightly open.
Tannis shook her head but followed Lilith's lead. “Very well. Let me know if you need anything. And, Lilith?” She paused in the doorway. “Please make sure to get some rest before the memorial tonight.”
“I will. Thanks, Tannis.” Lilith closed the door but didn't return to her chair by the bed.
Zane cleared his throat. “Um. Memorial?”
“Yeah. They've turned one of the walls of the old bridge into a kind of memorial space. People have been putting candles and stuff there all week. Pretty moving stuff, honestly.” She smiled but even from across the room he could see how strained it was.
Riiiight. She's hidin’ somethin’. “So what's tonight, then?”
“Oh, um… Just a bit of a gathering, I guess. Some of the others wanted to make a ceremony of it, give people a chance to speak about who they lost. Like a big funeral, I suppose.”
“Sounds nice.”
Actually, it sounded morbid as hell but if it gave everyone closure, he supposed it made sense. Not everyone dealt with grief the way he did: burying himself in work until the pain went away. Probably not the healthiest method but it had always worked well for him.
Keep tellin’ yerself that.
He resisted the urge to roll his eyes and tuned back into what Lilith was saying, just in time to hear: “—think it's for the best if you just stay here and rest.”
“Sorry, what?”
She hesitated again and he resisted the urge to snap at her to spit it out, damn you.
“Your injuries were pretty serious, Zane. Tannis said you should stay in bed for at least another few days.”
His eyes widened. “Eh? But I've been awake five minutes and I'm already bored outta my brain.”
“I know, but you need rest if you’re going to—”
He shook his head, pleasantly surprised when it didn't make his headache worse. “I’m fine. Spent enough time lyin’ down recently.”
“You’re not invincible, Zane!” Lilith didn’t even try to hide her exasperation. “You almost died in there!”
“Wouldn't be the first time.” He was getting sick and tired of her evasiveness. “What exactly are you gettin’ at?”
“Like I said, you were badly injured. You should be—”
He cut her off with a raise of his hand, keeping it from shaking through sheer force of will. “Try again. The truth, this time.”
She broke the staring contest first, turning away with a groan and pressing the palms of her hands against her face. “Fine. I just… I don't know if everyone out there is…ready, yet.”
He didn’t mean to shout, he really didn’t, but he’d had enough of her riddles. “Ready for what? Stop pussyfootin’ around and feckin’ talk to me, Lilith!”
“Ready for you, Zane!”
As soon as the words left her, she raised a shaking hand to cover her mouth and her eyes went wide. She clearly hadn’t meant to say it so bluntly, but it was too late to take it back.
And now he understood. Oh yes, now it all made sense.
“Take it they watched the broadcasts, then?” he asked flatly, turning away so he wouldn’t have to look at the expression on her face. “All o’ them?”
“Y-Yeah, they did. But—”
“No, no, I get it.”
Easier to hate the monster that’s still alive than blame the one that’s dead.
“You’re not a monster.”
You know better than that, Lil. Better than anyone.
He glared up at the ceiling, hands clenching into white-knuckled fists on top of the bedcovers. It didn’t matter that he barely remembered what happened that day. It didn’t matter that he had been given two horrific choices and had made the best decision he could, to cause the least suffering. It didn’t matter that he’d almost died trying to save them.
It still wasn’t enough.
“Zane, please…”
His head was starting to pound again. “Well, if I’m so badly hurt, you better clear out and let me rest, hmm? We can’t all be invincible heroes.”
“Zane—”
“Get out.”
Over the years, Zane had been given many opportunities to appreciate his own mortality.
At the tender age of six, his older brothers had introduced him to a game they called ‘Pandoran roulette’. When he’d been a couple of years older, they’d forced him through what they called ‘survival training’—holding him underwater to see how long he could hold his breath; making him sleep outside in the cold to ‘train his endurance’; gifting him with his very own pocket knife, only to tell him it wasn't really his until he could beat them both in a fight. Of course he’d lost it straight away—he’d been nine years old, for feck’s sake!—but he’d won it back eventually, and left them both with a few scars to show for it too. That was when the real torment began, as soon as he’d proved he was strong enough to take it.
He'd collected a few scars of his own since then. Mementoes of moments where he really should have bitten the dust but somehow didn't. Every so often, he counted them, just to make sure he didn't lose track of just how lucky he was.
You almost died in there.
He’d almost died plenty of times. He’d been shot, stabbed, half-drowned, poisoned, you name it and he’d already survived it. Physically this ordeal hadn’t really been that much worse than what he’d already walked away from intact. Why did this feel so different?
You know why.
His jaw clenched.
The difference is, you didn’t hate every second of it. Did you, Zane boy?
Shut up.
So what if you enjoyed it? There’s always a bit of a rush when you make a good kill. But you’d know that better than most, wouldn’t you?
SHUT UP!
Zane held his head in his hands, fingers curling into claws in his hair until his scalp ached.
You can’t ignore this forever, boyo. It’ll fester inside you like a wound. You know that.
Regrettably, he did know that.
Forcing his fingers to loosen their grip on his hair with an effort of will, he grimaced and looked across the room at the dusk-tinted square of the open window. He really should have been trying to get some rest—despite what he’d said to Lilith, he was exhausted—but his mind was still far too active. Resigning himself to sorting out that mess before he made any attempts at sleep, he allowed himself to cautiously ponder the real reason for his dark mood.
There was a certain thrill to be had in any good fight, whether you were shooting down a Maliwan squad or punching out some arsehole's lights in a bar. That wasn’t the issue. When he’d faced down those psychos—no gun, no gadgets, just him and his blades—part of him had enjoyed every second of it. The snap of bones, the slick of blood between his fingers… He remembered smiling down at one of them as she’d tried to crawl away, before his boot had landed firmly in the small of her back. It had been a long time since he’d seen one of Pandora’s crazies actually look scared.
That had felt good. Still not the real problem, though.
Once the fight had ended and there were no more enemies to eviscerate, he’d looked up at Tyreen, chest heaving and adrenaline hammering through his veins. She’d looked back, lips curving in a cruel smile, and she’d nodded in approval.
And he’d felt a surge of pride. Just for a moment.
Immediately he’d been sickened by his own reaction and looked away, fists clenching at his sides, but the damage was done. Whether she even realised what had happened was immaterial. He knew. It was one thing to take pride in a job well done, to survey the carnage he’d wrought and be glad to be the last man standing. It was another thing entirely to find himself seeking the approval of a monster like her, just as he would from his own commander.
Zane had only wanted one thing from Tyreen Calypso: to make her bleed. He only regretted not making it slower.
Whatever helps you sleep at night, boyo.
His fingers rubbed over the rough ridges of healing skin across his right palm. He could still feel the sharp pain of the electrical current arcing through his hand.
The soft give of flesh beneath blades.
The crunch of bones underfoot.
Tyreen Calypso’s pulse fluttering under his hand.
"That was a hell of a show, Superfan!”
He shuddered.
Careful, Zane. Only room for one lunatic in this noggin.
His stomach lurched and he clenched his fists hard, nails digging into his palms. Raising his head, he drew a deep breath and opened his eyes, using what he saw to ground himself in reality.
Open window, no bars. Door, no locks. No cameras, no screens. No cage.
He was free.
Not a prisoner.
Not a caged beast.
Not a monster.
I’m not a monster.
I’m not.