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The castle always had just the right amount of light. Not too bright to hurt the eyes, but not too dark to prevent anyone from seeing properly. That was something Hunter appreciated about it. Outside of its walls, it was always far too bright. No shadows to hide in, no easy way to block out the harsh light, save for a protective mask. It was a little claustrophobic, and the glaring world could still be seen, yes, but it all seemed just dim enough to not be unbearable.
The world isn’t just horribly bright, though. It’s also full of distasteful textures.
Mud and grime underfoot, the rough bark on the trees, certain clothes that civilians wear, a fresh corpse from that day’s mission, slimy blood and bile staining capes and cowls, the too-cold hardiness of ice and wetness of snow, greasy hair and matted fur…the list could go on and on. Just about everything is too horrid to even think about touching—if he did, Hunter is certain he’d vomit. Vomiting is not an option. Vulnerable. Weak. Disgusting.
Now, he can’t return to the safety of the castle’s walls. He’s trapped outside.
There is some salvation, though. The familiar weight of his armor may be gone, replaced by soft cloth—horrible for defensive purposes, he ought to get something sturdy—but Hunter still has his gloves. Small victories. Not enough. Not enough. Never enough.
He misses his mask. But people recognize it better than his face, and he doesn’t think he could stomach wearing it anymore. He hasn’t come up with any alternatives, yet, but perhaps this is a good thing. After all, he needs to get better at dealing with the world. He doesn’t expect it to accommodate him, as unchanging as it always is, so he may as well adapt to it. Thus far, this hasn’t worked out very well, but that’s his fault. He’ll learn to deal with it.
If anyone else has noticed the way Hunter squints, or how he keeps his head low, no one has mentioned it. He’s thankful for that. They’d probably just get mad at him for being so weak. Weak, pathetic, get over it, stop whining, just deal with it. The light hurts his eyes, but that’s fine. No one’s fault but his own. And even if it does hurt everyone else's, well, they don’t seem to show any indication of it bothering them. He just needs to be better.
If he lets them think he’s weak, that he’s not good enough— never enough never enough never enough —they’ll surely get rid of him. He can’t let that happen. He has to prove that he’s useful, strong enough, good . Greater, really. Hunter knows he can surpass their expectations if he just tries hard enough. Will it be enough though? Will you ever be enough? Do you really think they’ll let you stick around just because you’re useful? You have to be good, too.
He’ll show them that he is. He is good. He…is good. He can be good. He can be enough.
So Hunter ignores the way his hands ache, ignores how bright everything is, keeps his gloves on, and keeps his mouth shut.
A good soldier doesn’t complain. They just do what they’re told.
So when Gus or Willow ask him for something, he gets it. When Mr. Porter tells him to do or not do something, he does as asked. When Darius asks him to go protect Luz, he does it.
Except he doesn’t, he doesn’t, he doesn’t, he doesn’t, he doesn’t, failure failure failure, stupid, fuck-up, dipshit, look at what you’ve done, look look look. You should’ve been the one, should’ve should’ve should’ve, but she was and it’s all your fault. You should’ve known, should’ve done something, paid more attention, it doesn’t matter if it was bright and everything was so fast and everything hurt because you had to keep moving, it’s all your fault.
Hunter has to make up for it.
So when Ms. Noceda asks him to do chores, or to take a break, he does it immediately. When Vee asks him for help with her homework, he helps. When Willow tells him she’s worried about her plants, something is wrong with her magic, he helps her figure it out. When Gus gets quiet and somber, he comforts him. When Amity gets worried about Luz because she can’t find her, he helps her look. When Luz comes to him for help with figuring out how to find a way back, he stays up late with her and does research.
He’s tired. His hands hurt. His eyes hurt. But that’s alright. They need him. That’s all that matters.