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Twilight stared over the toilet. Blood still dripped from his lips where he choked back a guttural coughing fit. His chest seized and injury throbbed.
He supported himself in the sink, wondering how much longer he could keep up his lie.
Rasps of knuckles on wood reached his ears. “You good Twi?”
“Yeah, sorry. Hands are still jittery. Shavin’ taken me a sec.” He called back to the worried voice of the Captain.
Truth be told he hadn’t even picked up the blade to clean up his face. Two weeks worth of stubble on his chin. Eye bags hanging and eyes dull. Even his hair was slightly longer than he liked.
“Alright, call if you need help. Nothing wrong with it.” Footsteps retreated, but Twilight couldn’t muster up the energy to even acknowledge the Captain’s words.
He stared at the mirror of his slanted self, worn away by injury and time.
The wound had knocked him down. Lack of healing had carried on for a week, and trying to bounce back was growing impossible by the day when his injury never truly left.
Healed and scarred over— yes. Still present and making itself known… also yes.
That day he stood— walking down those steps with Time’s help— had been the turn in morale the boys needed. Twilight couldn’t stand to see their down trodden looks when he was but a dying man bedridden.
His act against the injury had proven something of relief, but it had been a lie altogether when he’d collapsed getting back to his room. Spewing blood and coughs wracking his body had sent him spiraling once again, this time, he kept everything hidden.
He wouldn’t be the reason the boys were upset. He wouldn’t let himself die a disgrace.
Proving this was not easy. Just as much was shaving when he was curled over the sink, using both hands to hold the razor steady so he wouldn’t knick himself— at least not more than once.
Once he was done he collapsed back against the lip of the tub with labored breath. Each moment standing— traveling was wearing him down. He couldn’t regain his strength and using up what he had was torturous.
Another soft knock on the door made his ears flick up.
“Twi… are you sure you're okay?”
It was now Time.
“I told the captain, ‘m fine.” He gritted only slightly annoyed at the lack of confidence the Captain had in him.
Time didn’t back off however. “Pup, I think we both know you're pushing yourself too far. This won’t mean anything to the boys if you go collapsing again.”
Oh and Time knew. He knew what Twilight was doing and allowed him to get to the point he couldn’t refuse his help.
“You're a sly old man, you know that?” He huffed leaning out to unlock the door.
“I like to think cunning. But also worried.” Time stepped in locking the door again. “How you—“ he paused, catching the blood on the toilet seat. He peered over and grimaced.
“I didn’t realize it was that bad.”
Twilight waved him off. “Not as bad as you think. Better coughing up blood than dying.” Time didn’t make a remark as he lowered Twilight to the ground to rest.
“Here, tilt your head up.”
“Why?”
“You missed a bit while shaving.”
Twilight frowned feeling along his face and huffed when he felt the stubble.
“It’s fine, I’ve gotten pretty good at shaving.”
Twilight eyed him. “You were bad?”
Time chuckled realizing how he’d said it. “No, I just meant I’ve had to do it more recently and for other people. A few of the boys don’t really have those father figures all us heroes seem to have.” Twilight caught the sarcasm.
“During— when you were injured. I had a bit of hair grow in. Warriors commented on it and I figured I could drag the boys away from your bedside for a moment to take a breather while also focusing on something else.”
He hummed, applying a bit of foam to the patches he missed.
Twilight just sat under the care letting Time tend to him. Too hurt to actually refuse any help.
Carefully he drew the blade down. Whipping it away he continued on.
Twilight focused on the man, finding it hard to even do that, as Time’s eyes never strayed from his task.
He felt his eyes wetten with a jolt of pain through his side. He wasn’t crying but he was growing emotional over the pain and helplessness he felt. He just didn’t want to admit it but it hurt and he wanted to cry.
A shaky breath left him.
“What’s wrong?” Time voiced seeing him resigned.
“It’s just— it hurts.” He answered helplessly. He shrugged, placing a hand against his side. “It just hurts.”
They couldn’t do anything for it. They’d tried already and the man used to be manageable. He used to be able to grit his teeth and hold back a faint curse when the walking grew too long or the weight of his chainmail dragged him down. Twilight wouldn’t complain because it would worry the others and the reason he was even pushing himself was to ease the others, but with how his body strained and hurt…
It didn’t feel like he’d ever not hurt again.
Time frowned. “Do you want to lay down? A potion?”
Twilight waved his hand. “It’s just a constant ache. Makes it hard ta not focus on it. Makes it hard to sleep and do anything without it.”
“The black blood must still be in your system but in a lower dose.”
Ain’t getting it out unless everyone liked the idea of bloodletting and from their different time periods Twilight would say half of them wouldn’t agree to the dangerous suggestion.
“M’stuck with it then.” He sighed despite wanting to cut his side open to let the blood seep out.
Time would have too much to say about that regarding the wound that barely managed to close at all.
Twilight didn’t want to put his and Hyrule’s efforts to waste anyways, but the feeling of his own blood writhing under his skin made it hard not to.
“It’ll heal.” Time said.
If Twilight couldn’t see the worry in his eyes he’d say the man sounded sure of it. They both knew otherwise.
Dryly swallowing, Twilight leaned his head back against the rim of the tub for Time to have access to his neck and under jaw. He closed his eyes wishing he had a response.
Time finished his spotty patches fairly quickly. Twilight had managed most without nicking himself, but compared to previous shaves that hardly took a minute or two, it was nothing to brag sitting winded on the ground for nearly thirty minutes.
“Feel fresh?” Time prompted.
He brushed a hand over his chin, stubble free now. He still felt how he did bed bound, but not nearly as uncomfortable with the prickle against his skin.
“As fresh as I can.” He sighed.
His hair was still too long, irritating his neck. It was harder to wash at this length with hardly any energy. His ends were spilt and dulled in color to look more brown.
Time caught where his attention lingered.
“I can cut it for you?”
He felt resigned to deny it, but truthfully Twilight didn’t think cutting his own hair was something he had the power to do.
Though his pride wouldn’t let him accept outright.
“You teach the boys that too?” He countered instead.
Time half heartedly smiled. “A little. I’m no stylist though, the best I could offer is a trim… and it might not be straight.” He said a few moments after.
Twilight decided right then, no matter what, he didn’t trust Time with those scissors, but his energy be damned.
“Well I guess it couldn’t do harm.” He shook his head with a smile. Already twisting himself into a more comfortable position. “Besides, even if I hate it, ain’t like I could chase after you.” Time smiled despite himself.
“Hopefully, I’m not that bad.” He rolled his eyes but it made Twilight snicker so he wasn’t wholly offended.
Time dug through the drawers for a pair of scissors. Nothing fancy, but they’d do the trick.
He set them to the side to look for a comb next, only to spot from the corner of his eyes Twilight picking them up. Between his shaky hands the blades jerked too hard.
He raised them as if to mock cutting his own hair, but Time stopped him.
“You don’t need to prove anything,” he said softly. Pushing the rancher’s hand down from his face.
“If you need help, all you need to do is ask. There’s no shame in it.” He squeezed Twilight's forearm in a reassuring way.
Twilight puffed his irritation of his helplessness.
“God, I’m pathetic.”
Asking for help would undermine everything Twilight was trying to get away with. The others would feel betrayed knowing Twilight lied that night and since then.
They would never trust him to be alone by himself, let alone hold a knife to his throat to shave or cut his own hair. He hardly trusted himself for that matter but it would feel worse coming from the others.
He already felt horrible needing to ask for such a simple task from the older man.
Time stopped, “you’re not pathetic.”
“I feel pathetic,” he stressed.
“Needing help does not make you pathetic.”
Twilight didn’t feel similarly and Time could see it written over his face.
“Would you think that of any of the other boys if they were in your position?” He surely wouldn’t. They both knew—
“Well they aren’t, are they?” He grit. His side seized on him as he met Time’s look with a glare.
“No,” he answered gently. “And you’re the reason they’re not.”
Their stare off was nothing impressive when Twilight gave. His eyes glued to the floor as he strained to not cringe at the thought of pain.
“Twilight,” Time grabbed his shoulder. “This will mean nothing if all you do is push. You’ll make those boys cry.”
They knew that. They both did. Time was guilting him. They both knew that too.
Time pulled the scissors out of his grip. Twilight released them begrudgingly, but didn’t have the fight to hold on to them.
Taking a thick curl between his fingers, pulling it off the nape of the rancher. Using his fingers to keep a straight line he snipped. There was already a visible difference in Twilight’s tense shoulders and the hair that lay on the ground.
If only he’d let someone care for him as much as he cared what others thought.
“You need to be doing this for more than just the boys.”
Twilight had been at the worst point not even a week ago. The blood in his system finally gave enough for Hyrule’s magic to push back and close the wound, and just hours before then, Time was holding the man’s hand assuring him blindly that things would get better.
The man did not have the heart then, laid out dying.
“You’re mad I tried to give up.” Twilight annoyingly inferred what Time definitely wasn’t thinking.
“I am not.” His word was firm. “I’m mad you are driving yourself into the ground. I’m mad that you think I don’t respect you to want to take care of you.”
More snips and more dead ends scatter on the floor.
Time cursed gently when he realized his cut was angled a little too high. Twilight flicked his head obviously hearing his mistake.
There was no comment made.
“You weren’t healthy enough to stand, you weren’t healthy enough to travel, and right now you’re not even healthy enough to be having this conversation, but you’re too damn stubborn to sit down and listen to what your own body is telling you!” With his irritation grew his voice but he wasn’t yelling, his worried temper was just showing.
Limply, Twilight grabbed his abdomen, holding his hand there as Time spoke. His voice was a very needed distraction from the throbbing pain in his side and the most likely butchering of his hair.
His words weren’t going in one ear and out the other, but Twilight couldn’t say for sure he’d remember everything later.
“What my body is telling me…” he repeated some time after Time had stopped his ranting to focus more on his haphazard cuts. He perked up when Twilight spoke.
He leaned forward out of Time’s hands, bracing his head against his knee.
“I think I’m at my limit,” he cursed to himself. Curling closed around himself.
Time’s firm hand set against his back as a comfort.
“And it’s alright, I promise.”
Time gently pulled the man back from his hunched position, tilting his head back to brush out and cut to make the sides even.
“It’s only been a week. No one is rushing you.”
“I know,” he conceded quicker than Time would have thought. He could just tell the man was thinking more troubling thoughts.
“Does it feel better?” He curled up the hair at his neck, rubbing his hand over his back to brush off stray hairs. “It’s not very straight, sorry.”
Twilight couldn’t help his laugh. It hurt, but he laughed anyway because he’d cry otherwise. “I— I promised not t’chase ya, yer fine.” He swallowed the gurgle of spit in his throat, to speak.
“My hair, it grows quick anyways.” He managed without pause or stutter.
“Mine was the same when I was younger. Used to find ways of keeping it up before getting Malon to cut it.” As he cut some final hairs, he spoke.
Twilight’s breathing and hunched posture slowly and relaxed the longer he listened and the more he answered back.
“She still cuts your hair?”
Time smiled. “She’s the reason I kept my style. She won’t let me style my hair any other way. Says I remind her of a little fairy-boy.” He grinned knowingly. Twilight smiled softly at that.
“Though, considering hair cuts, I think that’s enough.” He dusted off the rancher’s shoulders. In the end, it had been a lot more than a trim. “Anymore and I’d feel the need to make it up to you for the cut.”
Twilight took a breath and didn’t immediately look pained. “Thank you.”
“You won’t be when you look in the mirror.”
This forced another hearty snicker.
“Thank you, still.” He meant it genuinely.
Time didn’t need to be thanked for caring for the man, but he’d nod along because Twilight felt he needed to be.
Twilight cursed, gentle as it was, it could've just been a gasp of pain as he pressed backwards against the tub to lift himself up.
He did not object to Time helping him stand, but they could both see, deep in his gaze, he resented the need for it.
When the tub could no longer be used to stable himself, he reached for the counter. Silently shifting all his weight in a silent pained expression as he peered close enough to the mirror to spy his ragged features.
Was this really the look of a hero?
His chin was free of stubble and his hair just slightly cut off, hardly enough to notice. The act of being clean made him feel better, but his eyes could only be drawn to how daunting his eyes looked, how dull his hair, and how shaky his hands were.
“Do you want to lay back down?” Time asked, seeing him take a pause.
Twilight shook his head. “Think I reached my limit long ‘go,” he gasped. Swallowing, set his side on fire.
Time had this sickening sad look that made Twilight hate more than the wound in his side.
His body screamed for him to sit. His hands shook for stability. If Twilight listened, there was only one answer…
“I’m leaving myself behind. Next time we’re in my time.” He shook his head, already seeing the frown forming on Time’s face. “It’s realistic.”
“And you’re deciding this now?”
“You said to listen to my body—“
“I said to let it heal.” Time cut him off sharply. “I understand the feeling of uselessness, but that is far from the case. And if that’s truly what you want then that’s up to you, but that’s not something you’re going to decide because you decided to only hear the words you wanted.”
And if there was ever a time the man before him sounded like his mentor, it was then, because Twilight felt shame well up between his ribs and into a pit in his stomach.
He bowed his head, unable to look at himself or the man.
Time’s eyes softened in understanding, but his gaze remained firm in his words. “The pain you feel is not permanent. This decision you're making is.”
“You need to understand that healing can’t happen all at once and it can’t be put off for another day. You’ll only recover if you give yourself the chance to.”
It was a needed reminder that Twilight always seemed to forget when it was himself who was hurt.
Twilight, who felt backed into a corner, wanted to run, but there was nowhere to go with the man pinning him with questions.
Time grabbed his shoulder, forcing him still, “I want an answer. Is this what you want?”
Twilight had never felt more a disgrace to himself and everything that embodied a hero than that moment. It was a slow realization when he was so used to throwing himself into danger, that he could actually die.
Coming so close made him fearful.
Pushing himself through a half-hearted recovery made him realize his weaknesses.
He didn’t want to die and make people regret, he didn’t want to stay and be a hindrance either. His options were laid out in front of him, waiting.
Twilight wasn’t sure what to say.
“Tell me t’ keep pushin’ forward.” He grabbed Time’s shoulder, pleading to hear Shade’s command to stand back up and be the hero they both knew he could be. “If you tell me I will.”
No matter what, he would listen. He wouldn’t think of refusing the man’s request.
Time grabbed his hand. Squeezing steadily. “I’m not going to make you do anything. It is your decision, but I will be here no matter what you say.”
He felt his eyes wetten again. The pain in his side was dull but present and what lay ahead of him was the most difficult problem he face.
Pressing the back of his palm against his eyes he whipped away the stray dampness.
“M’sorry… to make you witness my falters.”
It always seemed to be Time to find him at his weakest points.
It was never his intention to put such weight on the man’s shoulders.
Time pulled him forward, bracing the back of his head into his shoulder. “Hush. I won’t hear a single word of that. Not now and not ever. You are not weak, you are hurt.”
Twilight nodded into his shoulder. Sinking into the man’s arms to stay upright.
His tiredness overwhelmed him entirely. His shoulders sagged and all the pushing he’d done to his body that weak had built up in layers that was crashing down around him.
“I really want to lay down.”
He wasn’t sure how his feet were even holding him up.
Time rubbed his shoulder, wrapping his arm around his back for support. “Alright. I'll bring you a potion and some soup.”
“The boy’s, besides the captain, should still be in town shopping for supplies. They won’t need to know anything.”
And that was all Twilight wanted. To make those boys smile and laugh without knowing the aching truth, and to be told there was still more for him.
“Yeah, okay.”
—
Warriors smiled seeing Time helping Twilight, not because it meant the man was struggling, but because it finally meant he was getting help.
When they passed down the hall they spared Warriors a glance. He could see the stubble free chin and the new cut the rancher sported.
What he noticed, probably quicker, was the backside of the rancher’s head.
Time shot him a look that spoke a million words, all of which threatened if Warriors opened his mouth.
Quickly, the captain turned away forcing back a choked laugh and grin. Ignoring how Twilight glanced over his shoulder suspiciously before giving up for being too tired.
What the rancher didn’t know wouldn’t kill him, he supposed.
Especially if that happened to be the butchering of the back of his head, that Time seemed to call a haircut. Jagged cuts and uneven lines. Unless peered at from behind the cut seemed fine.
Twilight wouldn’t know for a while, at least till Wild took a picture and showed the poor man, and Time would be safe… at least till Twilight could run.
So for now, while poorly hiding his grin, Warriors would mind his own business and pretend he didn’t just see a crime worthy hair cut.