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Is this what they were destined for? To be displayed as a trophy, as a weapon, no, as their weapon. The warlock struggled with her autonomy enough as it was, feeling like every other criticism of the path she had walked down, the path she was revived to walk down, pierced her resolve like spikes.
This was supposed to be the end; she would finally have some time for herself. Some time to breathe, some time to be normal and lead normal lives. That was wishful thinking on her part.
To think that she would ever— could ever catch a break was a wish that made her chest tighten and tears threaten to spill in frustration. The warlock liked to entertain herself with imaginary fantasies of stargazing, exploring, and peace. Ones that didn't seem so far away the last time she did.
Now? Well, let's see. She had been separated from her ghost too many times to count, terrified that Shatter met an end that she couldn't herself; She had been forced to kill countless times, over and over again, like a broken record refusing to budge from its loop; She had to watch her best friend die not once, but almost twice as she was powerless to help the hunter vanguard.
She didn't like to host herself pity parties, but emotion laced her actions, her outbursts, and etched itself into her bones.
She didn't mean to snap, didn't mean to upset anyone, but once again, she had. It seemed she couldn't go a single day without falling back into the constant cycle of destruction, despite the power of creation infusing itself in her blood.
Again, she found herself in her apartment, eyes glued to the computer, instead of around them. Instead of around him, she reminded herself, pressing her palms into her eyes as she tried to stay awake, reviewing paperwork and past mission summaries, light white dots beginning to spread over her cheeks.
Shatter buzzed beside her, the little light in a state of rest, as he had been for the last couple of hours, since they had gotten back from Kepler. The buzzing filling the air reminded her of human snoring. She looked fondly down at the little light on its perch before yawning and moving her attention back to the reports, hoping to clear her mind.
Well, that wasn't working. She had been up for hours, trying to finish the mission report. Recalling the memories of how well they had all gotten along during their time in the traveler. Well, at least before Cayde had gone off and hurt himself fatally. Before she had snapped at Crow for trying to comfort her.
Cayde was recovering, albeit slowly, without Sundance by his side, was the last she'd heard. Crow was his usual self, with polite smiles but an unmistakable sadness in his eyes. Why wasn't he angry? Why wasn't he upset at her for letting it get to this point? For not protecting everyone?
The warlock wished he would just snap at her already. Get upset with her attitude, with her withdrawal, but it never came. Instead, she was treated like a wounded animal, one that had to kill too often to survive, one that wasn't afforded the luxury of mercy, of love. One that he had to convince that she, too, destruction and all, was worth sticking around for. Was worth loving.
She tried to shake away the thought, solar energy flicking up her arms at the emotion. She had holed herself in her apartment since she had returned from Kepler; her usual refuge, the Nevermore, a sleek jumpship that Crow had helped her paint, (there he was again) sat in the station for repairs.
She knew she was avoiding him. His gentle smile, understanding eyes, and oh, too many small, loving gestures, the way his orang eyes sparkled, his black hair framed his face, the giggles they had shared when she had braided his hair late one night.
Fuck- She couldn't think. At least not about anything but him. Her thoughts swayed with guilt, knowing she had to apologize but not knowing how to even begin. It had been days since she snapped or maybe— (weeks? Months? She didn't know anymore. Time worked so much differently on Kepler.) She was almost thankful for it. Almost thankful for the escape the distress signal provided her.
She was being childish. She didn't want to face him, didn't want to face Cayde, didn't want to face her failures. She had let one of her own— the most vulnerable of them— get injured. He had nearly died. If it wasn't for the beat of light the Travler had sent out— she paused, going back to filling out the mission report, recalling how she had passed through the threshold, how she had followed the taken to the old outpost, and found him. Found them. Cayde and Crow, the two most important people in her life.
"The only two people you fail to protect, even from yourself." A small voice rang out in the back of her mind. She turned the music in her headset up, trying to drown out the voice.
"That was a lie," she responded with a bite to the voice in her head. The warlock had managed to protect Lodi, making sure he didn't meet the same fate as so many of her friends before, as they tore themselves apart with power they couldn't handle.
"He's practically a stranger," The voice reminded her. "He doesn't mean as much to you as they do." She tried to ignore it. "Admit it. You destroy everything. Everything you touch, Everyone you come close to. It all ends up in ruin anyway."
She seethed a breath in through her teeth, the familiar mantra holding its place like a lead ball dropped in her gut. She destroyed everything.
Crow was worried, to say the least. The warlock, his warlock, had been gone for two weeks: no message, no calls, no nothing. His transmissions would normally be full of updates from her, complaints about the Hive or Vex, or about Ikora's stoicism.
Technically, she didn't need to report to him. Her vanguard was on Kepler with her. But Ikora never stopped her from sending cheesy 'I love you's or sending him pictures of flora and fauna alike that reminded her of him.
He was still sending her updates about Cayde's condition, Shatter always notifying him when they were received. Her line was still up, and his messages were going through. Why didn't she want to talk to him? Had he done something wrong?
"What's got your panties in a twist?" a familiar robotic voice spoke up next to him, as Crow startled from his thoughts. Cayde laughed beside him, the lights around his voice box twinkling in amusement, as he wiped a pretend tear off his face. "You really oughta stop letting people sneak up on you like that, Crow."
"What are you doing? You're supposed to be on bed rest." Crow fussed, standing up from the desk full of paperwork that he had volunteered to do for the Hunter Vanguard. "I'll help out with any paperwork that needs to get done; you just focus on recovering. "I wasn't gonna do it anyway, kid, but thanks."
"Figured I shouldn't shoulder the burden of all of the paperwork I never did onto your shoulders." The Exo spoke, amusement flickering through his tone. He held an IV stand in his right hand, the wire from it leading under the twists and wires to the crease of his artificial arm. That's weird. Crow didn't know that Exos had fluid running through their systems. It made sense, he supposed.
"Paperwork or not, you won't recover if you don't give yourself time." The Awoken spoke as he stood from his chair, pushing it back in the desk after organizing the files. "Come on, I'll walk you back to your apartment." Crow spoke, leaving no room for argument."
"Oh, you party pooper, you're no fun," Cayde said as he followed him out the door anyway, his IV stand rolling beside him as he walked.
Crow returned his remark with an eyeroll, well used to the antics of the Hunter Vanguard. They had spent weeks together in the Traveler's Pale Heart before the Guardian showed up.
There she was, always occupying a place in his mind like the thought of her paid rent. If Cayde caught on to his uneasy expression, he didn't mention it. Crow was thankful for that.
They headed down to the Hangar to use the portal system present there to get down to the Last City. As they entered, Amanda Holiday stopped them, walking with them through the platform. Cayde welcomed the distraction, thankful for any minute he could spend outside of his apartment recovering.
Crow looked around as they talked, a nervous tick he developed during his early days as lightbearer, constantly on alert to his surroundings. Nobody liked him much then, nobody really gave him a chance, except his guardian, ever the giver of second chances, and, with a little bothering, Cayde.
His eyes stopped as he surveyed the room, practically glaring at the other side of the hangar. Nestled in the back, in Amanda's personal workspace, was the Nevermore, his guardian's jumpship, their handprints still painted on the nose of the ship.
Amanda caught Crow's look and followed his eyes, clicking her tongue as she sighed. "I don't know what your guardian did, but she managed to fry the circuits a good bit. I had to replace half of the damn engine." Crow blushed at the implication of "his guardian": Amanda speaking up with a laugh. "She brought it in late last night for Nevy's routine inspection, and the engine was holding on by spite and spite alone." Amanda sighed, using a nickname she had come up with for the ship years ago.
Wait. She was back in the Last City? Crow's expression softened from the glare into confusion and shock. She was back for that long and didn't tell him?
"Anyway, as great as it's been chatting wit y'all, I gotta get back to Nevy, she still got some parts that need replacin'. An' I believe tha' you should be in bed." Amanda said, poking a playfully accusatory finger into Cayde's chest before bidding them farewell.
The journey to Cayde's apartment wasn't far, almost right outside the portal. Crow made sure that everything was okay and that Cayde was actually in bed before he left. "Is everything okay? Do you need anything? A glass of water. "M' fine, stop mother-henning me." "Yeah, whatever, call me if you need anything."
Crow closed the apartment door as he left, before he took a deep breath. If the guardian was back in the last city, why didn't she tell him? She usually sought him out as soon as she got back, seeking him out to complain about the mission. He always listened to her, content to just be in her presence, to hear her laugh at stupid remarks he made.
Fuck it— the paperwork could fucking wait. He thought, turning away from the path to the portal, as he went deeper into the last city. If her ship was being repaired, he could only think of one other place she would be than by his side.
After a few blocks, he reached their shared apartment. He stood in the hallway and knocked on the door. No answer. He messed around in his pockets, hoping that he hadn't left his keys in the hunter vanguard's office.
He eventually found them, opening the door with a creak. The apartment was warmer than it usually was; he usually didn't spend much time here unless it was with his guardian. He closed the door behind him quietly, taking off his shoes and hanging up his jacket next to the door, knowing it was a pet peeve of her's when he would walk through the apartment with shoes on.
Everything that he could see was untouched, except for her own boots and robe placed near the door. Good. That meant she was here. "I'm home," he called out into the apartment. Silence.
Anxiety stirred in his gut as he started looking around the apartment. She wasn't in their bedroom. She wasn't in the bathroom. She wasn't—he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Of course, she was in the office. Shatter whirred to life beside her, hovering in the air, looking at the screen before noticing Crow.
The little ghost greeted him with a chirp, as Crow's worried expression faded into one of fondness. She always threw herself into her work whenever something was wrong. Wait— what was wrong?
Crow turned towards the ghost buzzing in the air as he moved to pick up the warlock's sleeping form from the chair, a look of confusion on his face as he spoke softly, careful not to wake the sleeping figure in his hands.
It seemed Shatter knew exactly what he was upset about, as he spoke, following Crow as he carried the sleeping warlock into their bedroom, placing them gently on the bed, and pulling up the covers over them. "I told her that she couldn't keep on avoiding you. But you know how she gets. Probably the most stubborn Guardian I've met."
Crow moved to place a kiss on her forehead, her stirring slightly at it. A small smile graced his face. He turned to look back at Shatter, already leaving the room to grab a glass of water for her. "Wait, why was she avoiding me? Did I do something wrong?" Crow spoke, a confused tone coating his words.
"She thinks that you're upset with her. Something about never being able to protect those who matter the most and constantly failing at keeping you all safe."
Oh. Oh. Of course, she would think something as silly as that. Of course, she would spiral and think that Cayde getting hurt was her fault, despite the reckless actions of the Hunter Vanguard. Of course, she would think that he's upset with her and throw herself into working to avoid him. Of course— the water spilling over the cup and onto his hand from the faucet startled him from his thoughts, before he poured a little out, filling up another glass.
Everything made sense now. The lack of communication from her on Kepler. Why she hadn't come back to see him when she arrived at the Last City. Why she avoided everyone like the plague when she did come back. He shut off the water, carrying both of the cups back into their bedroom, placing one on her nightstand, and one on his as he closed the blinds and turned off the lights. He could never be upset with her. Not for getting frustrated, not for showing her emotions, not for feeling like she wasn't good enough. But that was a conversation for the morning. After they had gotten some rest.