Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I am outnumbered. Outgunned. And overwhelmed.

I slam my blade against the ground again, the stones erupting beneath my boots. Flames whip around me, acid hurling through the air, the skies flashing black and red and blue as the world quakes.

Something attacks me from behind, jagged claws ripping through my Hunter gear as the monster charges past, tearing my blade out of reach. I crash forward onto my knees and wrench my gun from my thigh holster, agony exploding across my side and hot blood gushing as I spin and fire, again and again and again.

An earth-shattering roar chills me to my core. I can see the flames of a shrouded creature growing stronger, blooming to life.

All it takes is one second.

One. Second.

The world erupts and I am thrown through the air by the blast force, slamming into the ground so hard I can’t breathe. My head hits something sharp and the world reels, leaving me fighting to remain conscious.

I can smell my hair, my clothes, everything burning before I see it. Clawing at the gravel, I choke out a scream, searching frantically for my gun, my blade, anything, barely able to see through the suffocating vortex of smoke.

On your feet. On your feet! my instincts scream at me, but my legs won’t cooperate; nothing will.

There’s a heinous screech; my head snaps up in time to see another fireball hurtling towards me.

I am in its path. I will not escape in time.

Outnumbered. Outgunned. And out of chances.

A crow caws. The temperature suddenly plummets, the world plunged into blackness.

I see him; a mere shadow, slashing through the darkness in flashes of red, magic swirling around him and the frightening glow of his eyes unmistakeable. The fireball veers off course. Creatures screech, wailing heinously before vanishing into dust.

Until all that is left is a shrill ringing in my ears.

It takes a long time for me to hear him again; to make out the slow, steady sound of his walk through the fires.

“Sylus?” I choke out.

The sharp sound of a turn, and the footsteps start to run.

Through my agony, I can only muster one coherent thought: Sylus never runs.

“Oh, kitten.” The words come out in a rush. “I told you this might happen. You’re lucky I found you when I did.”

He gathers me up in his arms, cradling me against his chest. I cry out as pain ricochets through my head, my body, everywhere -

“Shh,” he murmurs. “Settle. I’m here now.”

I can barely comprehend that the tone is all wrong. That he doesn’t sound angry. He sounds worried.

“Sylus,” I rasp again.

Lips brush the top of my head. “Hold on, sweetie. We’ll be somewhere safe soon. Just keep your eyes open.”

I shake my head listlessly, already begging the universe to please, please let me pass out.

“I know, darling. But a wounded person might never wake up again if they fall asleep, and I’m not willing to take that risk.”

But I’m already falling … falling …

“Sweetie? Hey.” His voice is harsh and loud in my ear. “I order you to stay awake. This isn’t the time for you to ignore me. I implore you. Kitten?”

It’s too late. The darkness rips through my mind, and the world turns to black.

o-o-o-o-o

Time is a blur.

I fall in and out of consciousness, the hours stretching and galloping by all at once. Sunrise, nightfall, daylight; all seep through the windows, through the curtains blowing gently in the breeze.

Sylus is always there.

A whispered word; a cry for help; the touch of his hand against my own; a damp cloth across my forehead. Between seconds; heartbeats. The world is a fog of agony, taking and taking until I have nothing left, tearing at me from all directions until I’m left screaming; in my head, or out loud, I cannot tell, until I barely know who I am anymore.

His voice dances in and out of my delusions, murmuring words I cannot understand, but the tone painfully soft; a whisper in the night.

Oh, sweetie. There, there, settle down. Kitten, please. I’m not going anywhere.

He anchors me, keeping me tethered to the world as I hurtle through stars and dimensions unknown.

I’m not letting go.

Finally, finally, the worst of the pain subsides, and I wake up in a cold sweat, swathed in blankets. The world lurches violently as I wrench my eyes open, everything suddenly far too bright.

My heart races as I realise where I am.

Sylus has many guest rooms, all of which are empty. There is no reason I should be here in his private suite right now - and on his bed, no less. The other side is cold and noticeably untouched, the dark sheets and plush duvet still meticulously tucked in.

A glass of water perches on the nightstand beside an empty chair. I lunge for it, gulping it down, the cold liquid soothing my raw throat.

Even with a clearer head, there is still only one person on my mind. And I need to find him. Now.

Pushing myself upright, I try to stand, but my legs are so weak that I instantly crumple to the floor.

“Dammit!” I spit out, memories slamming through me; of fire, acid, and darkness. Everything aches, and my limbs are covered in stitched cuts, scrapes, and bruises.

I’m just starting to crawl my way forward when the door opens, and my head snaps up.

“Really?” Sylus says, stepping into the room. “Is that the best you can do?”

I start to retort - but quickly stop. His expression is warm, his eyes dancing with relief.

“Where were you?” I finally demand.

Sylus chuckles, walking forward and kneeling down beside me. “No matter what you think of me, I still have … needs that must be attended to.”

“You - I was in your bed,” I splutter.

“Observant, as always.” He sounds like he’s fighting back another laugh. “I am nothing but a gracious host.”

Leaning down, he scoops me up in his arms and rises to his feet. It’s only then that I realise I’m wearing one of his shirts.

“I can walk, you know,” I grumble, flustered.

“Says the kitten who so spectacularly hit the carpet a minute ago.”

I wince. “You saw? Or did Mephisto?”

“I have sensitive hearing. But don’t worry.” He smirks at me. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“But -”

“You know, as much as I like to see you struggle, I’d rather not have to send my rugs for cleaning. They’re rare and expensive.”

“Prick,” I mutter, and a smile pulls at the corners of his mouth.

Sylus carefully places me on his bed again, and I sink into the soft mattress. He sits down beside me, but with a hesitation I’m not familiar with from him.

“You should be careful,” I say.

He frowns. “In what way?”

I smile a little, reaching up and brushing a hand across his cheek, my fingers tracing the shadows beneath his eyes. “Someone’s gonna think you’re soft.”

Catching my fingers and interlocking them with his own, he doesn’t laugh. “You’ve been out for three days,” he says. “Your injuries were substantial. To say I was worried is … inadequate.”

“Good bait is hard to come by, right?” I joke.

“… Perhaps.”

Something uncertain flickers in the depths of Sylus’s eyes. After a moment, he carefully leans towards me. His nose brushes mine, his mouth hovering over my own. “May I?” he whispers.

I tilt my head up, closing the distance between us. The kiss is achingly sweet and gentle; one of relief, of regret.

“I never want to see you looking like that again,” Sylus says quietly, meeting my gaze. “Do you understand me?”

It’s the first time I’ve ever heard him sound even the slightest bit desperate.

“How did you know where to find me?” I ask weakly.

He sighs. “When I hadn’t heard from you, I knew something was amiss. And once I caught wind of an unusually large gathering of monsters … it wasn’t hard to put the pieces together.”

I nearly cry in relief. “Did you get all of them?”

He nods. “Every last creature. You did well, but these Wanderers were far superior to ones that even I’ve encountered previously. I don’t know how they found you … but I intend to find out.”

The flash of anger is visceral in his words, his voice hardening. But there’s an underlying pain that’s hard to ignore.

“Are you injured?” I ask, glancing over him. “Did they hurt you?”

A short laugh. “You don’t need to be concerned for my wellbeing.”

Amidst the agony, frustration slashes through. “I signed up for this when I swore my oath. You didn’t.”

“You seem to forget that your problems are also my problems.” Sylus points to his eyes, then he solemnly points to my heart. “Now tell me what’s really on your mind.”

My eyes burn. “There are people out there who want to take you down,” I finally get out. “What if it had been a trap to lure you in? I’m a liability and you know it.”

“I’d rather risk exposing my weaknesses when I protect you than see you injured. But even then, I was almost too late.”

His voice wavers, but his gaze is steady. I stare at him, stunned.

Sylus leans towards me. “I’m not planning on attending your funeral anytime soon,” he says quietly, “so you’re just going to have to forgive my intrusions for now.”

For a long moment, the silence stretches.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, my voice shaking. “For being too weak to handle it myself.”

“You’re still here, aren't you?” Sylus cups my cheek, brushing away my tears. “In this world, dying is easy. Staying alive … now that’s the real proof of strength.”

Leaning into his touch, I close my eyes, swaying a little as my headache rages.

“What’s the matter?” Sylus asks. “Are you still in pain?”

I shake my head, but he sees right through me.

“I’ll send for some soup from the kitchen,” he says. “You’re still weak, and evidently exhausted. We must keep your strength up.”

Sylus begins to move, but I grip his hand tighter before he can slip away. He meets my gaze, and raises his eyebrows just a touch.

“Don’t go,” I whisper. “Please.”

After a moment, Sylus’s mouth twitches. “You really went to all this trouble just for an excuse to cuddle me? I’m flattered.”

“I still know how to use a gun,” I remind him.

He chuckles, the sound deep in his throat, warming me to my core. “I recovered your weapons, by the way; they’re downstairs,” he says offhandedly. He lifts our hands and bites my fingers gently. “But it appears this kitten still has her claws.”

A strangely fond smile pulls at his mouth, the emotion in his eyes so strong I have to look away. “I’m not losing them anytime soon.”

There’s a slight pause. “I’m glad.”

I can feel my face slowly turning red. Clearing my throat, I begin to roll sideways - and grit my teeth, fighting back a curse as a sharp ache ricochets through my torso.

Sylus’s arms are instantly there, bracketing my body so I can’t move. “Stay,” he orders. “Your ribs clearly still have some work to do. Allow me.”

Any other time, the sight of Sylus hanging over me would have me reaching to pull him down for whatever kisses I can wrangle, aching to be as close to him as physically possible. But I’m too exhausted, and weak, and in pain.

I really am as helpless as the kitten he calls me by.

Sylus slides onto the bed on my other side, tucking himself in close and carefully pulling me onto his chest. My ear presses to his heart, the muscle steadily thundering against me; instantly, everything in me relaxes.

There was once a time I didn’t feel safe with Sylus. Now, I know my life will never feel the same without his presence.

“Damn it,” I mumble. “I owe you now.”

Sylus laughs quietly. “This isn’t the first time,” he reminds me. “But get better, and I might … consider us even.”

I glance up to see him already looking down with warm eyes. “I thought bargaining was supposed to be your strong suit,” I say. “You’re terrible at this.”

“My dear kitten.” Sylus brushes a strand of hair off of my face. “When it comes to you, all bets are off.”

He presses a kiss to the top of my head. “Sleep,” he says. “I will keep watch.”

He begins to hum, a soothing rumble in the quiet of the room as he combs his fingers through my hair, and I’m slowly lulled into a gentle night.

Chapter Text

“Sorry I missed your call! Please leave a message and I’ll -”

Sylus hangs up. He sighs heavily, glancing at the time on his phone before storming towards the entranceway.

He should have heard from her by now.

“Yo, Boss-man!” Kieran calls. “Heading out?”

His hand on the front door, Sylus throws the twins a withering look, but neither pays him any mind.

“Better watch out,” Luke tells him. “Word on the street is there’s a whole lot of Wanderers heading south -”

“Like they’re being called to something,” Kieran adds excitedly. “The energy convergence there is off the charts!”

Luke laughs gleefully. “Wouldn’t wanna be on the other end of - woah, hey!”

Sylus’s Evol lashes out before he can stop it; a vase smashes, but he barely hears it, his vision blazing red and a lead weight dropping in his stomach.

“Tell me everything,” he barks. “Now.”

Suddenly, he knows exactly where she is.

o-o-o-o-o

Sylus arrives into the middle of a full scale battle.

Flames whip around him, acid hurling through the air, the skies flashing black and red and blue as the world quakes with explosions, Wanderers roaring and screeching amidst the chaos.

He can sense her. Maybe because they’re intrinsically bound, but he knows she’s here.

He just has to find her.

Sylus blasts through the horde of Wanderers that turn on him, black and red tendrils swirling around his body as he darts in and out of the shadows, barely aware of the pain flitting across his body as fire grazes his skin and weapons slash at him.

It only makes him angrier.

He tears across the battlefield, laying waste to anything and everything that dares to attack him. The lack of gunfire around Sylus makes him anxious.

But as long as they’re pursuing him, they aren’t touching her.

The sky falls apart, debris hailing down until finally - finally - all becomes quiet.

He takes careful, measured steps through the carnage, listening to the ringing silence as his eyes sweep the area.

Where are you?

“Sylus?”

He turns sharply. The voice is devastatingly weak, and barely loud enough to catch his attention. But he would know it anywhere. Anywhere.

He’s suddenly running, fighting to stamp down on the rampant emotions tearing through him as he charges blindly through the smoke.

Just when he’s about to shout her name, Sylus suddenly sees her.

Lying amidst the destruction, she’s barely recognisable beneath the layers of ash and dirt, bruised and bloodied and painfully battered.

But, against all odds, she’s alive.

“Oh, kitten.” The words tumble from his mouth in a rush, regret and worry and relief clamouring to be spoken all at once. “I told you this might happen. You’re lucky I found you when I did.”

He leans down and scoops her up in his arms as carefully as he can, cradling her against his chest. But even then, she cries out in pain.

He’s never heard her sound so helpless.

“Shh,” Sylus murmurs. “Settle. I’m here now.”

“Sylus,” she rasps again.

Sylus presses a tender kiss to the top of her head. “Hold on, sweetie,” he urges. “We’ll be somewhere safe soon. Just keep your eyes open.”

But she shakes her head listlessly, her eyelids fluttering. Pain is etched into every line of her face, and Sylus can hardly bear it.

“I know, darling,” he soothes frantically. “But a wounded person might never wake up again if they fall asleep, and I’m not willing to take that risk.”

He glances down in time to see her eyes glaze over.

“Sweetie? Hey,” he calls harshly, trying desperately to make her listen. “I order you to stay awake. This isn’t the time for you to ignore me. I implore you. Kitten?”

But she’s already gone, slumping in his embrace as her head rolls sideways against his chest.

Time is running out.

“Mephie,” Sylus croaks out.

With a caw and the flap of his wings, Mephisto lands on his shoulder, his beady crow eyes staring at Sylus expectantly.

He suddenly realises it’s the first time he’s used the nickname she gave his pet.

Sylus jerks his head in the direction of the sky. “You know what to do.”

o-o-o-o-o

The door opens before he’s even reached it, the boys ushering him inside.

“Boss! Infirmary is prepped and ready to -”

“Mephisto was -”

“Holy smokes -”

“What happened to her?!”

“Is she okay?!”

Luke and Kieran’s voices overlap in a chaotic mess. Sylus jerks his head. “Wanderers. She was the target.”

The silence that follows him down the hallway is thick and heavy. All he can focus on is her laboured breathing, and the weak cries of pain that tumble from her mouth even in the depths of unconsciousness.

Her presence is so big in his life that it’s unnerving to see her appear so small.

“Boss?” Luke calls suddenly.

Sylus glances over his shoulder.

“Is she going to die?” Kieran asks.

Sylus wonders when she meant so much to them too.

Gritting his teeth, he tightens his hold on her. “Not if I can help it.”

o-o-o-o-o

The lights are uncomfortably bright. Sylus recoils against the glare but doesn’t turn the brightness down, instead focussing on the task at hand.

He works quickly and meticulously, fighting the shake in his hands as he cleans her wounds and stitches them up. He places cooling patches to her burns, and carefully peels away her ruined, scorched clothing and replaces her shirt with one of his own.

He can apologise to her later. But not while her life hangs in the balance.

Sylus knows she has friends at Linkon’s Akso Hospital. It would be easy to call in an anonymous tip, and leave his car idling in the emergency bay with her cocooned in the backseat.

But he can’t.

And what would she think? That he had abandoned her when she needed him most? No. He won’t do that to her.

Besides. He might not even get there in time.

Finally, he’s done. Gathering her up in his arms again, he carries her upstairs to his private suite, carefully tucking her into his bed.

“Oh, sweetie,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Kitten.”

But now, all he can do is wait.

o-o-o-o-o

Minutes turn into hours, which then slowly turn into days.

She falls in and out of consciousness, trapped in a delirium akin to a fever. Every time he catches a glimpse of her, he barely has time to acknowledge it before she vanishes into the darkness again, between one heartbeat and the next; sometimes, she screams as it happens, tortured by something he can neither see nor feel.

“There, there, settle down,” he soothes, tenderly running a hand over her hair as she shudders violently. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Her head tosses. “Sy,” she whimpers frantically.

He takes her hand, squeezing her fingers and hoping a part of her can feel it. “I’m not letting go,” he promises. “I’m here; I’m here.”

o-o-o-o-o

Standing in the kitchen, Sylus stretches his neck, his body aching and stiff from his time spent dozing in the chair at her bedside.

The base is hauntingly quiet without his beloved’s usual flurry of activity and noise.

He sighs, putting his now clean dishes aside and turning off the tap, his eyes a little glazed as he dries his hands.

Maybe he should have taken her to the hospital. Maybe he should have tried harder to stop her going. Maybe he should have been paying more attention to the happenings of the N109 Zone; maybe then he would have been there sooner.

Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.

Sylus doesn’t make mistakes like this. He’s careful, methodical; cold and calculating.

But something about her makes him lose sense of himself; makes him want to be more than how he’s seen by the rest of Onychinus, by the world. She wore away his hard, cruel edges, and brought out a side of him he barely knows; that he hasn’t felt in a long time.

A side … that only belongs to her.

He would burn down the world to keep her safe. He doesn’t know what he would do without her now.

How had he survived so long before she came into his life?

He suddenly hears a distant thud, followed by a muffled curse.

Sylus is already halfway up the stairs before he’s even aware of it, his heart racing.

His hand shakes as he grips the doorknob. He takes a deep breath to steady himself.

But there’s nothing to fear. Because when he pushes forward into his room, there she is - somewhat dishevelled from an unceremonious landing on the floor, but awake.

“Really?” Sylus teases even as relief consumes him. “Is that the best you can do?”

Her mouth opens and closes silently for a few moments. “Where were you?” she finally demands.

And as she glares at him, Sylus falls in love all over again.