Archive of Our Own

“On your left!”

Ryder’s head whipped around, and he threw up his arms in the same moment that he boosted himself backwards. He moved so fast he didn’t even have time to see what exactly he was moving from. That is, until it had its jaws clamped onto his gun, which he held defensively over himself. A Challyrion bore against him, clawing inches away from his armored suit, snarling and drooling.

And then it exploded into chunks.

Ryder fell back as the weight of the creature suddenly disappeared, and he landed with a grunt. Moments later, a hand extended before him.

He took it and pulled himself to his feet. “Thanks, Jaal. Nice shot, Vetra.”

Vetra gave him a salute as she stood and moved out of her cover. Jaal scowled at the Pathfinder as he brushed the dirt off his ass.

Ryder scowled back. “What?”

“You are reckless.”

Ryder shrugged. Jaal’s scowl deepened.

“Roekaar.” Ryder muttered, glaring over the rock he was hiding behind. He hated fighting them. He had come here to make friends, not enemies, and though Jaal had never actually said anything about it, he couldn’t help but feel guilty for shooting Angarans. Even if they shot first.

“Maybe we can get around them,” Vetra suggested. She pointed vaguely towards the right and put her arm momentarily over Ryder’s shoulders to reach.

Jaal shook his head. “Not possible. This area of the wilds is under their control. No matter the direction we go, we will encounter them.” He sighed and lifted his gun, “It cannot be helped.”

Ryder groaned. Fine. Shooting it was.

Vetra made the first move, taking out one Roekaar with a clean headshot. Of course, this alerted every Roekaar in the area, and all hell broke loose. Gunners transferred from cover to cover, shooting as they moved. Ryder hopped over the rock in his way and skirted around to the side of a towering tree. He poked his head around the trunk and raised his rifle to take aim.

Now that he was focused, he realized his throat was very dry. Scratchy. He squeezed his eyes shut as he cleared his throat, and when he opened his eyes, he thought he felt better. 

But as he emptied his clip, over and over and over again, mowing down Roekaar with Jaal and Vetra behind him, the feeling gradually returned. His chest ached, his shoulders protested every lifting and lowering of his arms, his throat was bone dry. As he knelt behind a piece of Remnant tech and leaned into his rifle, he felt his fingers lock up, slip from the trigger as he instinctively recoiled from the dull pain. He shook out his hand, gritting his teeth, and glanced behind him. His mysterious symptoms were unnoticed by his companions for now, and he intended to keep it that way. When all was clear and they had a moments rest, he would let them know; no point in causing worry in the middle of a fight.

Soon enough, the Roekaar ranks thinned and the sound of gunfire lessened. Jaal called out. Someone was disrupting shields, and Vetra’s were down. Ryder panicked.

Slowly, he backed up, moving towards his partners, putting himself in between them and whoever was fucking their shit up. He scanned the wilderness before him, flashlight cutting through the darkness.

There! The glint of metal.

Leaning heavily on the rock that provided his cover, he pulled himself up and over it, just enough to line up his sights. But his head was spinning. One tree turned into three, Jaal’s voice scraped through his ears like glass and no word actually processed, his eyes were hot and melting from his skull. He did his best to steady himself by taking a deep, long breath, and pulled the trigger. In the same moment his rifle kicked back, something invisible hit him, effectively knocking all breath from his lungs, and his shields.

His suit beeped at him as he collapsed, just in case he was aware of the fact that his shields had been drained by the enemy.

Footsteps running, away or towards?

Voices, but whose?

He rolled his head round and round, but all he could see were splotches of colors.

Purple, grey, blue, then...black.

“Fuck…” Ryder put a hand to his head and groaned.

A sigh beside him, full of relief. Vetra’s face appeared. “Ryder,” she whispered breathlessly, “You’re awake.”

Ryder closed his eyes hard and ground his teeth together. His head felt like it was splitting in two, and his limbs weighed a million tons. His throat was still dry, too, and every swallow was labored. Vetra gently took his hand and laid it back down at his side.

“What the hell happened?” He would have sat up if he could, but he was pretty sure he couldn’t, even if he really, really wanted to.

Vetra leaned in and put her hands behind her neck. She hung her head.

“Apparently, when that Challyrion knocked you over earlier, you fell right into some sort of toxic plant. Jaal said you must have touched it with your gloves, then touched your face some time later, and because no one realized you even had it on you and you never washed off, it seeped into your skin and you had a reaction.” Vetra threw up a hand, exasperated, “And get this--having your throat close up, your joints swell, your muscles tire, and your vision fail is apparently a mild reaction. Jaal said it can kill some Angarans within hours. The theory is that their skin is a lot more...permeable, I guess, than human skin, so you absorbed it slower, and the effects were lessened.”

“Holy fuck,” Ryder let out laugh, though it was more out of nervousness than anything else. “That’s...scary.”

“I’m very aware.” Vetra rubbed at her own shoulders, trying to soothe herself, and lowered her head even further, until she laid it on the bed beside the Pathfinder. Ryder let her sit there for a second in silence, feeling bad. She looked like she sorely needed rest.

After a while, she popped up as she recalled something suddenly, and reached in her chair to pick up a small container off of the floor. She unscrewed the top and handed it to him.

Ryder slowly, weakly, brought it to his nose. He sniffed. Smelled like nothing at all. “What’s this?”

“An anecdote. Eat it.”

He did. Some sort of weird paste, he scooped it out with his thumb and licked it clean. Tasted like nothing, too, but maybe that was better than tasting nasty. He handed the container back and realized very suddenly that he was suit-less beneath the blanket. As he drew his hand back, he pulled the blanket up closer to his chin.

Vetra couldn’t help but giggle, despite herself. She leaned back in her chair and put her hands on her thighs. “I had to wipe you down, by the way. To get the toxic residue off.”

Ryder flushed. “Great.”

Another laugh. “Don’t worry, I only touched your upper body. And it was just me.” She gestured over her shoulder, at the closed door behind her. “You know how Angarans are kinda weird with this stuff. They gave me what I needed to take care of you and said ‘good luck.’”

Ryder scoffed. “ Great. ”

“Doctor Vetra will take good care of you, Ryder, don’t worry.” Vetra smirked, and pat his hand under the blanket. “Just get ready for a lecture from Jaal later. He did tell you to be careful of the flora.”

Ryder laid his head back and closed his eyes. “Can’t wait.”