Chapter Text
Hunter has very few memories of his childhood, but the few he does have he guards with enough fervor to rival that of the Bat Queen’s protectiveness over her palismen.
He remembers his uncle’s fond touches and gentle smiles as he played at the foot of his throne, still too young to walk without stumbling every few steps. He remembers the burning gold of talons being shucked aside as he tucked him into bed, telling him tales of the human realm where the oceans do not boil, where monsters do not lie underfoot to gobble up young witches, where magic was merely a slight of hand and a farce of tricks and gentle foolishness.
He too remembers with less fondness the sight of pale flesh turning an oozing green and muddy sludge as it cracked artfully crafted marble floors. Remembers the searing hot pain of it slicing through his cheek, his ear, his arms and legs. The barking orders to do better, to not disappoint, to follow the will of the Titan.
Those memories he allows to tuck away in a little box to reprimand himself in the dead of night, using them as fuel to complete the next mission, and the next, and the next, and the next after that.
(Hunter does not remember when that small box turns into a room, and the good memories he does have are tucked into a drawer and hidden like all precious things are.)
But, he knows that Belos loves him. There has never been any room for doubt that he loved him. There have been harsh (painful) reprimands, but underneath it all there is still love, still care, still affection in his eyes behind the mask when he looks at him. He knows that. Hunter knows that.
It’s why it hurts.
“I’m starting to think you make those things just to destroy them. You have FUN with it. Admit it!” The shadow jeers, a shrill child’s laughter following it only to be abruptly cut off with a rebuking glare.
“I do not.” Belos hissed, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. A habit Hunter was all too familiar with. It was his as well. “This one is different.”
The Collector scoffed, sliding away to rest against the stairs in a hollow replica of an actual shadow. “Oh please. You’re just saying that because this one’s the youngest you’ve made yet!” Towards the end it was almost a whine. “They all turn out the same in the end anyway.”
Again, his uncle shook his head. “This one is different. He will be different.”
Roving eyes studied him, skeptical. “Don’t tell me…you love it?”
“Yes.”
“Ugh.” The Collector groaned and slinked away into the shadows. “Just wait old man. Like I said, it all ends the same.”
This time, his uncle stayed silent, staring blankly at the door.
Luz stepped away from the memory and he followed, just as silent as his uncle.
“What did you do to the other Guards?”
Begging, his uncle has always told him, was not something that suited someone like him in his station. True, he has never really begged for anything, but he begged for the answers now as he stood there, feeling like a living graveyard. He pressed harder despite the pain blossoming in his uncle’s eyes.
“To our family? It wasn’t wild magic, was it?”
“Our… family.” His uncle muttered, expression forlorn as he turned his gaze to the path of broken masks and torn portraits. Belos shook his head, eyes clearing as he focused again on him. “Oh, they aren’t our family dear boy. They were mere Grimwalkers, they had their purpose. Though I suppose in the end, it was all for nothing.” Each word said softly and gently as though it would mask the devastating blow. The affection in his speech a trap drowned in honey.
“Grimwalkers.” The name fell like sand past his lips, grinding against his teeth with disgust. “Is that what I am?”
“In a sense, yes.” Belos tilted his head in thought. “But you are a… better version, let’s say, of an old friend. You look so much like him. Nothing like the others.”
“The others.” Hunter scoffed, bile rising in his throat that he swallowed down. “And they meant nothing to you.”
“Of course not.” Belos chuckled, as if finding the idea of the boys he had poured life into and then killed something to laugh about. “You are different.”
He shook his head, vision swimming and feeling nauseous as Belos stepped closer. “Different. I’m not even your nephew. I-- I’m just some thing!” He cried out, near hysterical. “Just an item for you to toss aside when you’re done with it! Oh, the Golden Guard, just the Emperor’s little pet!” He spat out, echoing one of the nastier insults he had heard around the castle.
“No!” Suddenly, his uncle was in front of him, leaning down to catch his eye, unheeding of Luz’s wary gasp from his speed. “No, you are my nephew. I love you.”
Hands, uncovered now from golden talons, cradled his unscarred cheek, just as he once did when Hunter was just a boy and scared of shadows in the corners and monsters under his bed. Softer, blue eyes softer than he’s ever seen them, Belos sighed. “I love you.”
Tears in his eyes, Hunter fought the urge to preen, to soften under his uncle’s gentle gaze and caring touch. It would be so easy, so, so easy to just… let go. To fall back under his uncle’s steady wing, to follow him to the ends of the Isles and then some. To be told to jump and only ask, ‘how high?’ It would be the easiest thing in the world to accept his uncle’s love.
He sighed and closed his eyes, allowing himself the aching comfort in his embrace as unshed tears were brushed away by familiar hands.
Shaking, he let himself be pressed into Belo’s chest, the other hand snaking through his hair and rubbing his scalp in a comforting motion. He shuddered and mumbled into pristine white robes, “I know you love me.”
He heard the warm smile in voice as Belos chuckled. “I do.”
Hunter did not open his eyes as he gently pulled himself out of Belos’ embrace. He did not know whether to laugh or cry when his uncle let him.
“I love you.”
He opened his eyes now, watching Belos’ face twist in confusion. “I love you too. Hunter…”
“I love you.”
He backed off, daring to look away from Belos, though the glinting golden masks begged him not to. Their ghosts telling him that doing so would be the last mistake he ever made. But Belos said it himself. Hunter was different.
“I love you.”
He reached out blindly, grasping Luz’s hand tightly, his eyes already roaming the sandy ground for the bright color of her weird human gadget.
There.
“I love you.”
“Hunter-”
“I love you.” He choked out, feeling Luz’s hand tighten. His uncles expression falling, putting together the pieces of what was happening.
There was barely a moment’s pause before they took off running, Luz slamming a glyph into the ground between them and Belos though it was quickly torn away by a wicked blade that Hunter was all too familiar with. But by then it was too late and they were diving towards the gadget with her screaming for the Owl Lady to get them out.
“Hunter!”
He spared his uncle one last glance before the light blinded him.
That one glance lasted an eternity.
Numbly, he thought he felt very guilty as his uncle stared after him in desperation, the expression so unfamiliar on his face. But, he knows what he saw. He knows what he plans to do next.
Still. Belos loves him.
“Whatever happens… I love you too.”