Chapter Text
The Titan inspects the barrel of his weapon, maneuvering a cloth along the inside to clean away residue.
His Ghost, Fractal, hovers over his shoulder with no small amount of intrigue as she watches her Light-Bearer work. It's a nightly routine of theirs - him, with his weapons and her, fully enthralled by the simplistic matter of cleaning said weapons. She finds it satisfying to watch the dirt disappear to reveal something shiny underneath. Sometimes she'll even ask questions about the mechanisms of the weapon. She could easily scan it and answer it herself, but something about the way it can be explained, simplified - she enjoys that. The Ghost is always curious. She balances out his resigned nature, his tendency to be content with the answers sitting before him.
It drives his Little Light nuts.
The Titan tears his gaze away from the weapon disassembled before him to look at the Ghost. For the first time, he notices her shell has been looking a bit worn. Perhaps she's due for her own cleaning. "Maybe I should shine your shell next?" He remarks with an edge of amusement in his voice.
"Really?" She beams, flickering upward and then forward, "I mean, it's not that dirty and your weapons need it more--"
He reaches up, gently patting the top of her shell, "I'm sure I can spare a few minutes for you, Little Light."
"Thanks, big guy," she nuzzles up into his hand as the peaceful silence settles back over them. He shifts his attention back to the rifle before him and begins the progress of reassembling it while she alights onto the fur along his pauldron, watching the mechanisms lock and whirl back into place as he works.
Within five minutes, the weapon is assembled, checked and double checked before being deposited on the table. “Alright, you’re next,” he chuckles softly, standing to grab a clean cloth for the Ghost. But just as he’s about to step away from the table, there's a loud bang at the front door just before it’s thrown open.
"There's a battle beyond the village gate!" A man bursts through, heaving for air. Fractal transmats and the Titan snatches his scout rifle from the table top, slinging it along his shoulders as he darts out of the small house toward the sound of battle.
By the time he’s close enough, he can make out a Warlock being shield bashed by a Titan. The blow came swiftly after she'd dispatched the Hunter trying to flank her. His eyes track the Hunter's Ghost rezzing its Light-Bearer but the Warlock is struggling just to get to her knees. The Hunter is up. The Warlock won't make it to her feet in time. It's as if the moment were in slow motion. Solar energy building and building and igniting along the Hunter's frame. The Exo is just barely close enough. The Warlock’s head snaps upward as he skids to his knees beside her, deploying a bubble shield just in time to protect them both from the blade barrage.
Her attackers back off as the Exo gets to his feet, the shield fading, "You're not welcome here."
"This area is unclaimed by any Warlords." The Hunter shouts, moving up alongside the Titan standing opposite Fractal's.
"And with good reason." He bites back just as harshly, maneuvering the Warlock behind him protectively. She is shaking, but he has a sense it's not from fear - but anger and blood loss.
"So, you're the only protector?" The Titan scoffs, "How no one has made quick work of you, I'll never know." He steps forward, the Hunter beside him and there's another Titan coming out of the treeline.
The Exo's hands clench at his sides, his voice low as he addresses the woman behind him, "Can you fight?"
"Managed well enough before you arrived," she returns, stepping up beside him. She sounds calm, but he detects a twinge of pain within her voice. He chances a glance down at her, noting the shredded state of her robes, the crimson staining her torso. She's injured - badly. He doesn’t have time to question her about why her Ghost hasn’t healed her, so they’ll have to make due with her current state. He steels himself, looking back to their adversaries. He'll need a few more minutes before he can summon a Sentinel shield and he has no idea where she is at strength-wise.
For a moment, he considers trading her for the safety of his people. Force them to take their battle elsewhere...but she'll die if that happens. This wasn’t a fair fight to begin with and he’ll be damned if he’s going to let her die alone.
"This is your last chance to leave peacefully." He calls, dragging his rifle off his shoulder as if would pose an actual threat against all of them.
"You're shit out of luck, asshole!" The Hunter barks, "You have any idea who you decided to protect? That bitch works under Warlord Shaxx. Our boss has a bone to pick with that bastard!"
"Do I look like I care?" He returns gruffly, "I stay out their wars. What bothers me is when idiots like you bring your war to my village.
"Well, you are technically stepping into it by protecting me," the Warlock beside him returns with a soft, labored laugh.
He looks down at her, noting the laugh with a modicum of concern. "You rather I leave you to the wolves?"
Her head lifts but even that seems like it takes a lot of effort. "...no."
"Then be quiet."
"Sir, yes, sir," she mumbles and he narrows his eyes before looking toward the Light-Bearers across from them.
"Leave. Now."
"Not without your girlfriend."
"She's not my--" he cuts himself short when he detects the sparks of Light beside him. She's charged up. He has but a moment to pivot and get behind her before the chaos reach surges from her hand.
She got all of them.
The energy cuts off and she hits the ground, chest heaving as gloved fingers dig into earth, her other hand clutching at her side. He steps past her, moving toward the first Titan's Ghost.
It shies away quickly, afraid to be crushed.
"When you rez him, you take him back to whatever Warlord you serve or the next time I kill him," the Sentinel shield sparks to life along his forearm and he holds it up menacingly "You'll go with him. Clear?"
"Crystal," the Ghost's voice trembles as it shrinks back beneath the Light.
The Exo steps back and the Ghost resurrects his Titan. He starts to reach for a weapon before his Ghost cuts in.
"No. We should go."
"You can't--"
"Listen to your light bulb. His life is on the line now, too." The Exo warns, holding the shield up a bit more and the enemy clenches his hands at his sides.
"Fine." He seethes, "This isn't over."
"For your Ghost's sake, I hope you're wrong."
The Exo watches the Titan corral his newly rezzed fireteam, taking a few steps after them until they are well beyond the treeline.
Fractal materializes beside him, "Light bulb?" She fumes indignantly.
"Not now, 'tal."
"That was rude."
He sighs deeply, "Wasn't directed at you, Little Light."
"Still!"
"It was a threat, nothing more."
"You're--" She pauses, "...go help your new friend. Her life signal is fluctuating." The Ghost's voice softens, rotating as she speaks and he follows her gaze to the Warlock.
She's sitting back on her heels, skin pale from blood loss, her helmet discarded in front of her as she coughs. The amount of blood along her neck is concerning, not to mention the half-lidded eyes fighting to stay open.
The Titan strides over to her quickly, kneeling down to try and steady her with an arm wound around her shoulders, "Can you walk?"
She doesn't respond but she looks ready to pass out and that's answer enough.
She should have been healed by now.
"Where's your Ghost?"
"Low...on power," she whispers, slouching into his side. "Chased us...awhile."
Hunted you, you mean.
Anger flares in the back of his mind as he carefully maneuvers her into a position he can pick her up from. Her head sags against his shoulder as he carries her back inside the village walls, giving orders as he walks to keep an eye on the treeline. He carries her borderline unconscious form toward his small corner of the village, shouldering open the door to his home and gingerly lays her on the bed.
"Check on her Ghost," he says to Fractal when the Ghost darts toward the Warlock. He moves to warm some water and retrieve a cloth as well as bandages.
"Right!"
The Ghost darts closer, scanning and signaling the Warlock’s Ghost until it makes an appearance. Her shell is just as battered as the Warlock’s robes, as if she'd taken a hit while her Guardian was down.
"No wonder you couldn't rez her," Fractal says softly.
"It's been a tough couple weeks," the Ghost returns and the Titan swears he can hear exhaustion in her voice.
"I'll take a look at your wiring after I patch her up," he says quietly, filling a bowl with hot water and moving to the Warlock’s side.
"Do you two have a name?" Fractal asks, trying to act as somewhat of a liaison while her Titan sets to work.
"I'm Ember. Her name is Essa." The Ghost alights along the Warlock’s thigh.
"It's nice to meet you two. I'm Fractal and this...he doesn't think he needs a name, so the village just calls him Titan."
"He wouldn't let you name him?" Ember tilts, confusion in her voice though he imagines it’s a desperate attempt to process something beyond the current situation.
Her Light-Bearer is dying and if he can’t stabilize her and mend her Ghost—
"Nope. He prefers his nameless tall, dark and handsome anonymity." Fractal tries to joke.
He sets about moving the shredded robes aside and carefully begins to clean around the first laceration along her rib. Something sharp ignites along his forearm, the sensors flaring and numbing until the shock spreads to the rest of his arm and he jolts back, shaking his hand.
He narrows his eyes at the Warlock laying before him and he notices a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips
"Men usually...buy me dinner first," she murmurs.
"Very funny," he grumbles, rubbing at his arm, "I'm trying to help you."
"Mm, sorry," her head turns toward him. He notices the soft blue of her eyes for the first time, the aching exhaustion in them. He quashes the urge to touch her arm reassuringly, shaking his head instead and turns to inspect what little he can see before she zapped him.
"S'fine," he mutters, working the material away from the wound once more. He's as gentle as he can be with cleaning the injuries. The stitches go in with very little difficulty, though her features reveal the pain she's feeling. Bandaging is a bit more difficult given her half-conscious state, but he manages to do a good enough job to tide her over until he can get her Ghost back to full strength.
She didn't offer much in the way of conversation either. She had watched him work, only reacting when he'd had to tie the bandages tightly. Her hand jolted to his wrist, Light igniting against his metal plating and it took all he had not to pull away from the painful sensation. Eventually, she'd drifted off, likely from the pain and he didn't have the heart to try and wake her to change into something less bloody. So, he redressed her as best as he could, washing away as much of the blood along her neck and face as he can before leaving her to sleep.
That was hours ago.
Her Ghost is back in working order, but she needs some time to regain her power before she can repair Essa's wounds.
So, that left him. He'd sunk into a chair near the fire, still fully armored out of habit - no one sees him without it. Keeps people from getting scared of a metal man. That's why he doesn't have a name - people can't decipher what you don't give them clues to.
He shakes his head to clear it, settling in against the back of his seat, "'tal?
"Yeah?" The Ghost materializes beside him, keeping her voice down.
"What do we know about Warlord Shaxx?"
"Not a lot...but the Iron Lords seem pretty fond of him. We picked the right side, big guy. Don't worry."
He casts a glance over at the sleeping Warlock, "I hope you're right."
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He's sound asleep in his chair; chin slumped against his chest, breathing even and steady. He looks...peaceful, even fully armored.
Fragments of the night before settle into her mind and she recalls the bandaging, his annoyance. She works the blankets off cautiously, keeping a careful eye on him to ensure he doesn't stir but something bothers her about last night. His hands had been cold. Not like human skin. It had been metallic. He's an Exo, at least, that's what she suspects. By all rights, she doesn't really need to know but, out of idle curiosity, she wants confirmation.
She limps across the wooden floors, wincing with every step from the pain in her torso but she remains undeterred. By the time she's at his side, she wonders how he hasn't woken. Ember tells her the Titan was up most of the night keeping watch over her, checking her bandages and the like. Essa's fingers gently trail through the fur of his pauldron before lifting to touch the underside of his helmet, stilling when they find the cool metal of his chin. It has a different texture from his helmet, an almost electric thrum beneath her fingertips.
But, then he's awake. His hand snaps to her wrist and tugs it back away from him.
"You're not supposed to be out of bed." He says sternly though his voice sounds groveled and heavy with sleep. "Not until your Ghost has recovered enough to patch you up."
"I'm fine, barely hurts," she chuckles, testing his grip on her wrist and it tightens.
"Really?" He questions skeptically, reaching out with his other hand and lightly pressing on the bandages.
She winces and shies away from his touch, one that relents quickly after the initial flinch.
"That's what I thought." He returns, releasing her wrist, "Back into bed."
She narrows her eyes, studying the blank exterior of his helmet, "Since when are you my keeper?
"Since you decided to nearly bleed out on my mattress." He stands from his chair, towering over her yet she holds her ground.
"Wasn't my first choice of a location." She counters with a shadow of amusement.
"Bed." He says simply, a degree of annoyance at the edge of his voice.
"Or what?" She challenges, meeting his gaze firmly despite how close he is. Ordinarily, she would be able to feel the warmth of someone this close - but his is unusual. It's like Solar energy, subtly channeled to feel like body heat to anyone who can't recognize a difference between Light and what would be considered normal warmth.
He's projecting a human appearance. She notices for the first time that his gloves are back on - what could have possibly happened to force him to hide what he is?
He doesn’t allow her much time to muse. He shakes his head and the next thing she knows, he's swept her up off her feet, a soft yelp of surprise slipping free as he carries her to the bed. She barely had enough time to wrap her arm around his neck, taking note of how even his armor veils the firm metal beneath with the illusion of fabric along the back of his chest plate and a scarf around his neck.
He is thorough.
"I can walk, you know." She grumbles, choosing not to press the issue as he stops beside the makeshift mattress.
"Obviously." He lays her back down on the bed and she relinquishes her hold around his neck. She watches him straighten up and make his way over to a trunk in the corner of the room and open it. A few moments later, he tosses a shirt at her, "Here."
She looks down at the Titan-sized shirt, tilting her head curiously, "What's this for?"
"Your robes...thought it might be more comfortable." He rubs the back of his neck and gestures to the general state of her robes.
That's...oddly considerate of a total stranger.
"Right. Turn around."
He turns without a second's hesitation, trying to give her as much privacy as the one room house would allow.
She waits a moment until she's sure he won't turn back before carefully beginning to remove the bloodied, shredded clothes. She gingerly pulls his shirt over her head with a soft growl of pain, one she notes he straightened at.
"Thanks," she finally manages quietly, leaning back against the wall to try and steady her racing heartbeat. That was more exhausting than it should have been. Perhaps venturing from the bed had been a bad idea after all. Not that she’ll give him the satisfaction of admitting it. She’s only just met the man and she has a sneaking suspicion he is used to being right. That isn’t the worst thing in the world, but she’s far too stubborn to play into something like that.
"You're welcome," he says quietly, keeping his back turned.
She tilts her head, "You can turn back around now, tough guy."
The Titan is slow to comply, his head tilted downward as if uncertain as his body begins to rotate. When he finally lifts it, he seems to relax a bit and it's...almost adorable. He looks sheepish, awkward and...dare she suggest, nervous.
"This the longest conversation you've had with a woman?" She teases and is genuinely surprised when he nods silently. She starts to ask something else when there's a knock at his door. She pulls the blanket up ever so slightly, as if wearing his shirt made her any less modest. Clearly the village had seen the battle yesterday, her wearing something beyond her robes wouldn’t be that bad. Still, her pride demands the small comfort - even if it’s moot at this point.
He turns immediately to answer it, pausing in the doorway as one of the village elders comes into view
"Ah! Titan. Good to see you up and about. And you as well, m'lady."
Essa gives a quick nod, her eyes darting from the Titan to the elder curiously.
"Titan, we sent out that messenger as requested. The fortress is a two day ride from here so--"
"Thank you," the Titan says softly, "Were there any sightings last night?"
"No. It seems you two scared off her pursuers."
"Good," he looks over his shoulder at Essa. She shifts uncomfortably under his gaze, trying to avoid it altogether. For a moment, she wonders if he'll betray her - hand her off to the small Warlord that roams this region but if they're talking about a fortress--
"If there's nothing else?" The elder asks and the Titan shakes his head. "Then I'll bid the two of you a good morning." He nods with a warm smile and heads off.
The Titan closes the door, turning to face her, "I've sent word to your Lord Shaxx. Told him what happened yesterday and my recommendation for him to send someone to accompany you back."
She squares her shoulders, a degree of indignation in her voice when she speaks, "I can manage on my own--"
"Those Light-Bearers could still be out there and they may not let you work your way back to your fortress this time around. I cannot leave my people undefended so your Warlord will have to come to you." The Titan cuts in firmly, moving over to the table to inspect his weapon. It’s an older scout rifle from the looks of it. Not from the Golden Age but, it looks durable and functional enough.
"He really isn't leaving much room for argument," Ember mumbles as she transmats beside her.
"No, no he's not." Essa narrows her eyes at him. "And what am I supposed to do until then?"
"This village is small, we don't have inns, so...you can stay here. I'll take--"
"If you say floor, I will storm call your ass right here and now." She watches him set down the gun. Her remark gives him pause. He stares at her silently, his head tilted in a borderline adorable display of confusion.
"I--"
"You're sleeping on your bed." She folds her arms over her chest. She’s put him out enough, the least she can do is insist he sleep in his own bed. But judging by the fact this is the longest he’s spoken to a woman and his general lack of manners, he’s going to fight her on this.
"But you're sleeping there--?"
"It can fit two people." She returns easily and she swears she can see the heat rising in his helmet.
"I don't think--"
"Then don't." She cuts in and he stiffens.
"You trust far too easily." He bites out, folding his arms over his chest.
So anger is his default reaction. He doesn’t have a counter and his first instinct is to find something to alter the odds in his favor. It’s a good strategy, might even work if he hadn’t spent the whole night playing nurse. He’s rendered his own argument useless.
"Well, I see it another way. If you had wanted to hurt me, you would have done so last night when I was defenseless. Given that the worst you've done is prod my side to make a point, I think I'm safe enough sleeping next to you."
"Next to me," he repeats quietly as if lost in a trance. He looks uncomfortable, self-conscious even.
She needs to get him off that track. Perhaps it's a small mercy to spare him this awkwardness after he saved her life.
"Ember tells me you don't have a name?"
He straightens, "No. I don't."
"Why not?"
"Don't need one."
She arches an eyebrow, "Everyone needs a name. What does Fractal call you?"
"Big guy," the Ghost materializes beside the Titan and he looks at her. He starts to lift his hand but stops himself as the Ghost nudges against the side of his helmet, "It's sufficient."
"Cute. You need an actual name," Essa deadpans, arms folded over her chest, "I'm not calling you Titan everytime I address you."
"You'll be here, at most, four days. You'll survive." He moves over to the waning fire and crouches down, gripping a few logs and placing them in the flames.
She wrinkles her nose, slouching against the wall, "Are you always this stubborn?"
"Yes."
It's succinct. Pointed. He likely intends for it to discourage anymore questions but she won't be deterred so easily.
"Why do you project Solar energy?" She asks abruptly and his whole body goes rigid. He doesn't answer. Doesn't turn. Just continues to place wood in the fireplace as if she hadn't just challenged his facade. There must be something integral to this tendency. Some hellish experience that forces him to conceal something so benign. Every other village she’s ever been to, Exos walk freely amongst humans. Why can’t he do the same?
Essa carefully slides to the edge of the mattress, blue tracing along the sharp lines of his armored back and shoulders. "Is it because you're--"
He's upright, facing her and even beyond his helmet, she can feel his anger. There’s something else there, something intended to be menacing. She almost flinches, almost shies away from him but...something tells her he won't hurt her. It's for show. It's to shut her up. Nothing more.
"Whatever you think I am, you're wrong." He bites out with a deep, low tone.
He's angry but - scared. He's not used to people seeing through his projection. She's caught him off guard. She’s found the thread, now she just has to follow it. Essa stands and the way he shifts tells her all she needs to know: he doesn't know how to handle this. Intimidation apparently usually works but he's grappling with why she's unaffected.
Perhaps it's because she has stared down far worse than a Titan just trying to hide the fact he's an Exo
She takes a step closer and he holds his ground though his voice softens with uncertainty.
"You shouldn't--"
"Be out of bed?" She tilts her head with an innocent smile and he manages a slow, stunned nod. "I won't tell if you don't."
He stares at her for a long moment, the silence hanging between them uneasily before he gathers himself and simply turns away. He crouches back down by the fireplace, stoking the small flames with an iron prod as if the last two minutes hadn't just happened. He must feel humiliated and some part of her feels bad but the other is more...intrigued. Part of her wants to push and find out just how far he'll let her get before he pushes back. But then there is the piece of her that pities him - to be so afraid to reveal what he is - she can't imagine.
"Hey," she sinks into the seat beside him and he turns his head toward her ever so slightly, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you." Remorse is her safest bet at this point. The man did save her life. She can’t push too far too fast, not in her current state at least. But even then, he doesn’t seem the type to just snap and throw her out - no matter how hard she pushes. Still, she’d rather not test that particular possibility.
So when he nods once and turns back to the fire without a word, Essa sits quietly for a few minutes, granting him a respite. The silence eases into something comfortable while he tends the fire. Eventually, she summons the nerve to lay her hand on his arm and he stills beneath it.
The Titan’s head tilts down toward the point of contact and then up to look at her.
"...for what it's worth, you don't have to hide from me. You're not the first I've met."
He nods slowly, making no move to touch her hand or even react to her touch. He just...stares up at her curiously.
"You gonna stare all day?" She teases gently and he looks down sheepishly.
It takes him a second but he pulls away and gets to his feet. "I have some rounds to take care of. I'll send someone with some food for you."
"You're ditching me in the grungy--" She trails off when she notes his expectant tilt of his head, "I mean...this nice little house?"
He shakes his head, whether it’s amusement or annoyance, she isn’t sure. She can’t quite get a read on him. The helmet and armor conceal the micro-movements, the subtle indications of his mood. Even Exos have them, reminiscent of their time as humans, but he seems to have found a solution to that particular indicator.
"You're in no state to be going on patrols and don't say otherwise," he points at her the instant she opens her mouth to argue. "I'll be back in a few hours. Stay here, get some rest. Your Ghost should be strong enough tomorrow morning to heal you. Just...stay put, alright?"
He sounds exasperated but there's something else in his voice - something she can't identify
...and he's waiting for confirmation.
"Alright, fine. I'll stay put," she sighs, slouching back in the chair.
His gaze lingers a few moments longer before he turns on his heel, picking up his scout rifle and heads out the door
"...he seems nice." Ember remarks, alighting along Essa's leg.
"He...is a mystery."
"How do you mean?"
"He's an Exo that hides the fact he's an Exo. He is fiercely defensive about that but falls apart the instant his usual approach fails. He doesn't want a name because...it could be an indicator as to what he is." She returns thoughtfully. She will have four days to decipher him. That doesn’t seem like nearly enough time but it will have to be sufficient.
"What if we gave him a human name?"
"That might work," she smiles slightly, "Guess we'd better brainstorm."
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