Archive of Our Own

It is a long fall. 

He expected it to be a long fall, considering that he couldn't see the bottom of this particular crevasse. He hadn't expected Topjoy's magic shot to break the ground so deeply but, ah. The ground here was made weak by design. Everything was prone to collapse and breakage. He had nearly fallen in himself a few times due to crumbling ground during the span of time they were all familiarizing themselves with the newly built island. 

He had wondered back then, in the back of his mind, what it would feel like to fall so far. 

Well. He knows now, he supposes. 

Logically speaking, it is not actually a long fall. It's no grand canyon, after all. Still a deadly height, sure, but it takes less than a minute to go from top to bottom in a fall. 

For a leaguer, though, with minds running as fast as theirs do, it is just long enough to….think. To ponder and grieve, for what little he can grieve for, anyway. He finds he doesn't do much of it, these days. He hasn't for a while. 

It is only long enough for thoughts to fray and flow, breaking up at the seams and floating away. Simple and disconnected. 

What happened, he wonders distantly. Was it really their ejection that broke them? Or were they just….rotten from the start? Dark had never been a forgiving place anyhow. Small kindnesses were stomped out ruthlessly. A precedent was set, long before they were made. Long before they had the decals scrubbed off, sent away to fend for themselves. 

For years they have survived, and not lived, till the ‘Prince Of Darkness’ decided to issue his own form of mercy. 

Damn him. Damn him. But then, if Grey Link was less of a coward, perhaps he could have avoided this in the first place. He should have said no. Should have been smarter. Should have kept him and his team away and dealt with everyone else's anger for it.

Should have, should have, should have. So many things he should have done. 

He didn't, though. And now he will die with his regrets. What a truly pathetic ending for him. Of course he had to bring Topjoy with him. Damn leaguer couldn't just let go. 

Ha. There he goes again. Blaming everyone else for his own problems. He always was going to drag someone down with him in the end. The biggest crab in the bucket. Inevitable. 

In another world, things would have been better, he thinks. Perhaps things are better, in every world but this one. And isn't that just a depressing thought? Briefly, he wishes for the crack of stone against his skull, if only to stop it.

In another world…..

For just a moment, he deigns to crack open his eyes as dark rock whizzes by, the air screaming past his audials. Not far away, falling alongside him, Topjoy waves his hands about in a panic, voice broken off into static that blends with the whip of wind. Eyes flicker behind that deep purple visor and, for only a brief moment of it, their eyes lock. 

He is surprised Topjoy doesn't look more betrayed in the moment. But then, maybe it's hard to focus on the betrayal when death is only seconds away. Closer and closer as time drags like cold syrup. High powered processing makes a single second last an eternity. 

For one eternity, their eyes stay locked. Grey Link can only look resigned like this. Perhaps even relieved. It's over now, after all. He doesn't need to think. He'll be joining his team wherever they go, or perhaps simply….nowhere. The lack of worry will be an undeserved mercy. 

Despite everything, the idiot, twisting through the air, still reaches for him with an expression that, somehow, steels instead of breaks under pressure. Fingers catch against his shoulder and, without gravity, it is easy to drag him back into a chest that still heaves with panic. Twists them so that Topjoy is on the bottom.

“What are you doing?!” He barks over the wind, a flash of erroneous panic lighting in his chassis. Erroneous, because they are going to die either way. Topjoy doing this is useless. He must know that. He has to. 

“I told you!” Topjoy shouts back, voice squealing high with a vocalizer long due for a reset, “I'm not letting go!”

“You-!”

Idiot. Idiot. 

None of it matters. They must be close to the bottom now, anyway. His processor tangles and stutters over itself anyway. It struggles, attempts to process a long forgone conclusion. He wants to laugh. Or maybe cry. If he does, it is lost to the whipping scream of wind and water. 

……Hold on.

Water?

His processor has only one spare second left to choke before-

Splash

The world turns on itself.

His sensors, already on the fritz, scream and flash illegible warnings in shades of red, orange, yellow. He can't see anything, and he can't be sure if it is because it is dark, or because he has been blinded by the sudden overload of data. It is hard to tell, between the static, warnings, and his gyroscopes spinning so fast that he can no longer tell what is up. If there is an up. 

Cold, cold water floods his mouth and throat. His vents. He coughs to no avail, more flooding in until he finally shuts his mouth and every opening that he can shut, in an attempt to prevent further flooding to his system. More warnings flash about obstructed or flooded filters and yes. He knows, thank you very much.

Leaguers can't drown. They don't need air, technically. Breathing only serves the function of cooling them down and mimicking humans. 

As he feels the side of his head and a good portion of his shoulder ram into a floor of rock, he starts to think that isn't going to be his worst problems.

Made of metal aside, getting caught in what he can only assume is some particularly deep rapids, tends to disagree with bodily integrity. Pain matches impacts as he and his unfortunate passenger go tumbling from ground to wall, across rock and gravel and whatever else happens to be at the bottom of this canyon. Dents and breaks are gathered in droves. Paint must be scraped down to bare metal. He feels his visor crack when he goes face first into the ground, is twisted around, and does it again. He thinks Topjoy is yelling, but he can't be sure. 

Topjoy continues to not let go. Grey Link finds, hands clinging to the ones around his chest, that he no longer can either. Whether it is willing or because of his hands being broken is to be seen. Either way, they tumble together.

It hurts. Of course it does. Getting thrown around by waters that apparently don't give a damn how much they weigh is awful. It is one wall after another. Grit in his seams, pain shocking down his nerves and freezing his limbs. His head spinning may be as much processing damage as it is actual spinning. This part, he thinks, takes longer than the fall. It is worse for the fact that he can't see anything. The water is so dark, and his visor is cracked, and he thinks one of his optics broke when he slammed his face into the ground, and it hurts-

It only stops when the pair slams into one of what must be a thousand walls, and sticks there. Pressed into a merciful little crag, it keeps them from continuing their tumble into deactivation. Grey Link's hands scramble for a hold, and by the lack of one arm around him, he imagines Topjoy is as well. By some kind of miracle, he manages to find a tiny outcrop of stone, just enough to grasp and pull. 

One hand and foot at a time, between the two of them, they are just barely able to yank themselves up and over the surface of the rushing water. A little more, and they can almost avoid the larger waves of it, though many still crash over their heads, shoving them roughly up against the rocks. Not that he cares, considering half his paint is already gone at this point. 

“Oh-” Topjoy gags and shudders, spitting up salty water, “My god! We're alive! We're alive!”

Battered, yes, but alive indeed. He feels dizzy with the realization, though perhaps it's also all the damage reports attempting to flood his HUD, right alongside the water. It is about then that he realizes that yes, he is currently half blind. It does not bode well for any escape attempts. 

Grey Link coughs himself, spits as his body rejects the flood of water that had attempted to invade his fuel tanks. It nearly washes right back in as more water splashes up from below and over their necks. He pulls them both up a little further with one arm.

“I didn't-” He wheezes and spits again. His throat feels raw as the rest of him. Everything is so damn cold. It was snowing near the swamp just minutes earlier. “I didn't think there was water down here. It- It must come off the ocean and feed towards the swamp.” He coughs out, stunned by his own observation considering the situation. 

Topjoy wiggles uncomfortably against him, and he has to tighten an arm to keep the damn guy still so he doesn't send them both back down the rapids all over again. He digs his heels harder into the rock and wishes for climbing boots instead. He considers activating his claws to dig into the rock, but a flex of his arm tells him that yeah. That isn't happening. Something in there is damaged. Maybe a lot of things. 

“Oh no! We survived the fall but now the water is going to kill us! What kind of luck is that?!” Topjoy wails, in a manner that Grey Link is inclined to agree with.

There is very little else to do. So he curses vitriolically at the world instead.

“Shit. Fuck.” He says emphatically, and Topjoy proceeds to make a scandalized noise in his audial, face shifting to match it like a particularly crumpled piece of paper. 

“Don't swear!” The leaguer scolds, brows furrowed with more offense than when Grey Link had been actively trying to kill him.

“I- What?” He coughs, the sheer incredulity pooling off his words, “Are you seriously telling me off for cursing? When we're-?! After I-?!” 

The ridiculousness of it must catch up because Topjoy, still halfway drowning and clinging for life against the weak rock wall, makes an O face, then has the gall to just look sheepish. 

“Oh- Sorry! We're not supposed to curse around Owner since she's so young so- And Ryuuken is very convincing!”

This explanation, unsurprisingly, fails to make it any better. And anyway, isn't Silver Castle's owner a teen already? She's not that young- Or she is but- She's not even here-

He shakes his head furiously to stop his thoughts from spinning away from him. He only succeeds in making himself feel worse, considering the cranial damage he is currently nursing. Biting down the groan that wants to rise in his throat, he focuses on the matter at hand.

“We need- To find a ledge to climb up on.” He says, coughing again as water splashes up into his mouth. He'll be flushing salt from his intake for weeks after this, he thinks. 

Entertaining the idea that there will be weeks after this makes him feel- 

Something. He doesn't know.

Even still, he is caught on the way Topjoy's face twitches, then pulls into something more tightly determined. It is a strange look, almost ill fitting on such a joyous face.

“We-!” Topjoy splutters as water washes over his face. Gags as he pulls himself up a little further. “We won't get upstream! We just have to go down and-” 

“And pray.” Grey Link finishes, to another nod. 

It is an awful, treacherous journey to attempt to make. The rocks are slick with rain and saltwater, the rapids below are fast enough to drag and batter them against the rocks, even the walls could be at risk of breaking off. They are built to break off in part, to make it purposefully more likely for leaguers to fall off. (His own teammate, not minutes before. Getting stupid and stomping on the edge of a fragile cliff face. Grey Link hadn't even called back when he screamed going down. He was probably dead. Most of his team were probably dead. What an awful captain he is. But then, that isn't new.)

There is, however, no other journey to make. The Prince of Darkness will not come to save them if they stay still. They can only keep moving. 

Bodies still hooked tight to each other, it is exactly what they do. 

The rapids crash over them as they crawl sideways across the walls, following the flow. Fingers and boots find chips and cracks, occasionally making new ones or deepening old ones to get a hold. More than once, they slip. And when one does, the other tightens their hold. Somehow, they do not lose each other to the rip. 

Time becomes ironically liquid, dashed across the currents. It bleeds out across the waves like shimmering oil. They could be at it for minutes or hours, stretching into the horizon like the steady dip and rise of the sun. They are battered to the point they must eventually stop feeling it, their modules so overtaxed that error codes become background ambience. Metal creaks and protests at every bend. Scars are dug into fingertips as they claw at sheer rock. The pain blends with every other possible sensation. 

It is impossible to say how long it takes, through the swimming of his processor. Progress is taken slowly, or perhaps not at all at times. The only spare warmth they take is from the metal they have pressed to each other, and from the echoes caused by their own pain. 

Progress must happen, though. It must. Through the fog of their exhaustion. It must happen because- because there- 

“Topjoy!” He barks through a voice that feels more raw than it did minutes or hours or days ago, and points up. 

Not just a ledge, but a path. Jutting out from the rock, a bit craggly and broken edged, but certainly made for walking on. It goes all the way down the cliff, disappears around the dark corners into….somewhere. It's high enough for the water to miss it, but not too high. Not for him.

“Oh my god! But- How are we getting up there???” Topjoy says, already vibrating excitedly, and Grey Link laughs through a salt scraped throat.

“Hang on.”

Topjoy has no reason to trust him. Really should not, considering their situation. He would have every reason to let go and leave Grey Link to his death, or perhaps every reason to think Grey Link would do the same. Perhaps they would have both been better off for it.

But no. Topjoy, if nothing else, deserves to live here. He is owed that much, for his troubles.

Gritting his teeth through pain, Grey Link reaches up and engages both his springs and his boosters. Low energy as they are on, his boosters sputter and cough as they are choked with water. It is, however, just barely enough for his extended arm to catch on the ledge. Feet scraping against the rocks, they are dragged upward as he forces his springs to pull back in again.  

Through no small amount of pain and scrambling, somehow, they end up pulling themselves over the edge in a heap of splayed out scrap.

Topjoy, expectedly, wails from joy. 

“Oh my god!!! We're alive!!! We're alive!!! We survived! Oh my god!!! Grey Link! We-! We're going home! Auugaggggghh!”

Numbly, Grey Link tolerates a hand grabbing onto his shoulder with a vice grip and shaking. The feeling leaves an imprint in his armor as it leaves, Topjoy going back to gasping for clean air as he splays on the ground. Water pools beneath the two of them, and drips off the edge. It is tainted with precious bits of oil coming from many breaks in armor and mechanical veins. The side of Grey Link's face is very warm with it. 

They're alive. He should be happy. 

He is happy Topjoy is alive. He hasn't seen a leaguer with such a bright spark in…..well. He's not sure if he ever has, actually. 

But as for himself? 

What next? What now? 

He had been content with dying, he thinks. When you're dead, you don't need to worry. Your sins won't follow you, because there is nothing there to follow. Dead is dead is dead, and in death there would be release. 

He will be granted no release now. His engine still runs in his chest, churning around the sputter of water draining from his internals. He wishes it felt like it stopped, even a little bit. But no. Instead, he simply….is. 

His team is gone. He will have nowhere to go after this. 

Dying would have been easier. 

He doesn't know what to do now.

“Hoooo! Ok! We- We don't have any maintenance supplies! But that's ok! We can probably do….something? Oh, Grey Link. You look awful!” Topjoy rambles and, with some miracle of god, sits up. He wobbles where he is even so, wincing sharply as he brings his hand up to his very dented skull. Somehow, his visor has stayed intact save for a couple cracks. 

“Thanks. I feel awful.” Grey Link says dryly.

Topjoy nods sympathetically, then winces again. A reprimand rises, then dies in Grey Link's throat as he watches it. He sighs again instead, petering off into a pained groan. 

“We have to see if there's some way up! There has to be, right? If they put a path down here…” Topjoy rubs at his chin, and Grey Link….closes his eyes. 

“You really are just a bundle of energy, aren't you? Take a break, Topjoy.” He says, waving one hand vaguely at the other leaguer. 

“I can't! My teammates-” 

“Won't be helped by you looking like that. Just lay back down. The water needs to drain anyway.” He interrupts.

There is, by some miracle, a small pause. And then, a little distressed whine and the creak of metal as Topjoy does that. Gingerly of course, with all those injuries. 

The heat settles itself next to him. For some reason. 

“Oh you're right! I barely have any energy, and I think my ankle is out of place, and my arms hurt and my head hurts and-!” Topjoy despairs. The air is displaced, presumably by arms waved about in distress. 

It is almost impossible to superimpose the leaguer that had stayed steady under his assault, had caught him in their fall and held tight till the end, had shattered the earth with his throw, over….this mess.

“Well. You won't be in pain for much longer. You'll be found and fixed, or-” Oh, right. That. 

“The hurricane machine will activate and kill us anyway. There's not much time left, I think.” 

“That doesn't make it better??? Grey Link! If that happens, you'll die too!” 

Yes, he would, wouldn't he?

He expected to die when he was falling. 

Years ago he expected to die homeless and jobless and hungry in some god forsaken abandoned part of a city he no longer belonged to.

Even more years ago, he expected to die doing what he loved, danger all around him even with a cool court under his feet and fans screaming from the stands. 

Every day, he is disappointed. It's pathetic that he is but, well. He is a pathetic leaguer regardless, so it isn't new. Just another dent for a pride that has long been beaten into the dust.

“Yes.” He says simply, and the quiet that comes after is crushing. 

Topjoy, for once, does not speak for a second. After such loud rambling, it feels unnatural. The high, whistling pitch is missing from the air, although the warmth is not. 

“Grey Link?” Topjoy asks tentatively. It is soft enough to be nearly inaudible.

“Hm.”

“Why- Why did you break the cliff? After I caught you?” 

Grey Link does not open his eyes.

“Mmm. I wonder.” He says vaguely.

“Grey Link!”

He did not expect to see tomorrow. He still may not, if the last members of Silver Castle fail to reach the goal. And even then…. 

But he lives to see now. He has lived to feel warmth as a hand slides out and bumps his own, enough contact to feel strange about no matter how little it is.

“Grey Link…” Topjoy repeats, even softer, and he has to cut the leaguer off before it goes any further. 

“What were you thinking when you grabbed me, while we were falling?” He asks, finally deigning to open his eyes. The black space on one side of his vision should not stun him again, but it does. His head throbs at the attempt to compensate for it. 

Beside him, Topjoy stares with his own eyes wide behind the visor. 

“I-! I told you! I just knew I said I wasn't going to let go, and…I wasn't going to break that promise!” He says, frowning. A pause, and he shuffles in place, “If I died, I didn't want to die on my own either.” He admits. Grey Link's ash choked heart throbs for it. He only hums again. 

Topjoy shuffles. His fingers- one of his pinkies seems broken now that he's looking at it- stiffen against the rock below. 

“What…..what were you thinking? When we were falling?” Topjoy prods further.

This, at least, is a question he doesn't mind answering so much. Although it will be embarrassing in hindsight. If there is any hindsight to be had after this.

“I thought we could have been friends, in another life.” He admits distantly, staring at the cracks that run up the canyon walls. “You were on the team made to replace me, after all. If we hadn't been pushed out, and you had been made a little earlier….”

It is an odd thought to have. Trying to imagine his own team's greys and oranges over the other leaguer is an image that is….ill suited. The bright pinks and deeper blacks fit him much better, like something out of a disco. The emblem on him now fits him better than a Dark brand ever could.

Besides. If Topjoy had been on the same team, he would have been resigned to the same fate. He almost had been, were it not for Silver Castle picking him up in the manner of a sad, rain soaked kitten. Not that he doesn't still radiate the same pervasive (unfortunately cute) patheticness.

“I was what???” Topjoy squawks, so high that his vocalizer squeaks at the strain. Grey Link blinks and finally turns his head, eyes (Eye now, he supposes) narrowing at the thoroughly shocked expression on the other leaguer's face. Eyes wide, mouth all agape. Is he-?

“You didn't know that?” He asks incredulously, “Don't you keep up with news on your own sport? I know they give you a prepackage of cultural data when you online.”

Topjoy reels back, hands flailing in every direction. He sputters, flusters, stops and starts on syllables that choke and break before they manage to be more than nonsense. It takes a moment for anything coherent to come out.

“Well yes- But I-! You-? I didn't think-!” 

“Stop.” Grey Link grumbles, his head throbbing sharply at the noise. He allows it to rest back once more, closing his eyes again and allowing the dimness of storm clouds to soothe the agony. A rock digs somewhere into his hip, and he reaches under himself to toss it out. He sighs heavily. 

“It doesn't matter. It…..it doesn't matter.”

The only reason he knows is because of The Price of Darkness mentioning it. Probably to get him riled up. And, at the time, it had. He likely wouldn't have recognized Topjoy otherwise, because hell. Pink and black basketball leaguers are the new model now. Matched sets pumped out in droves. New replacing the old. Topjoy was hardly even special. Every team had at least one model made to stick out, for publicity if nothing else. 

Maybe he should be incensed about it now. And- Well he is, somewhat. His already broken pride hisses and spits under his chest plate. Drags at the anger that had kept him going this long. Did a good job at making him ruthless. 

Even so, he can't find the rage he did just minutes before. He loses his grip on it as soon as it comes, draining out of him with water and leaked oil. 

More than anything now, he is tired.

He feels Topjoy shift again, and he only jumps to look when that weight suddenly goes over him. A hand lands next to his shoulder, and all at once Topjoy causes the shadows to become all the deeper as he leans completely over Grey Link. There is so much in his face, but he can't read any of it.

“W-Well! Even if that's so…I think we could be friends anyway!” Topjoy says, quieter in a mercy for his aching head, but words hitting him like a hammer all the same. 

“I- What?” He chokes. 

“You said…when we were falling. That you thought we could have been friends in another life. Well, i think we can be friends in this one! So…what do you say? Grey Link?”

For the second time today, Grey Link is stunned stupid. That said, he really should not be. Topjoy's priorities have already been made clear. They are carved into him and shone through by a kind spark that has somehow survived despite where he came from. 

Topjoy has shrugged off his scars and stepped into the light as innocent as he must have been when he was first made. Impossible, yet somehow present. 

The dark has not stained him as it has so many others. He shines with well polished silver and, Grey Link thinks, he must have quite a team if they have managed to keep this spark of his so bright. 

“You're insane.” He whispers helplessly, and is rewarded by a mischievous grin. 

“Noooo, I'm happy!” Topjoy giggles. 

A genuine laugh is torn up and out of his raw throat. The salt chips away under the vibrations, and at that maybe later time, he expects he will need his fuel tank flushed. Topjoy's eyes go bright at the sound, and that wide grin stretches wider as if in victory. Armor rattles against the ground and soon, Topjoy is giggling in that high, crackling way he does too. 

Some seconds later, the laughter peters away. It is carried off on the sound of cold wind and crashing water not that far below. Topjoy is still leaned over him, blocking him from the wind and rain that has, at least, somewhat cleared. The enclosed space between them is made warm by engines running off stressed heat, and the soft patter of water against metal is so very distant like this. 

“We should find a way out. Do you think you're able to move?” Topjoy says, finally leaning away. Grey Link, somehow, finds himself sitting up. Chasing that echoing warmth and star bright light kept trapped behind the unbroken lenses of Topjoy's eyes. He is pulled as if on a string, and it is….easier like this, to follow it instead of sitting and letting his oil run out right on the ledge like he could have done instead. 

“I'll be fine. I'm more at risk of falling off the edge, if I can't compensate.” He says, waving a hand in front of his broken eye. Topjoy nods, and hops up to his feet. 

“Ow-!”

He nearly falls over, were it not for Grey Link's hand at his back. The leaguer's face pinches in pain, and he leans onto one foot, keeping weight off the other. The springs and ankle joints there, he notes, are indeed misaligned. A new model basketball leaguer's legs are sensitive, and even small dents and chips can cause issue. 

“I can keep us away from the edge if…you don't mind helping me with walking.” Topjoy says with a tentative smile. 

Grey Link huffs, and stands with a groan. His frame keens miserably in protest as every sensor in his body sparks with pain. He, evidently, is not quite so good at shaking off the pain. 

Topjoy must be some kind of masochist, he concludes.

Reaching out, he allows Topjoy to toss an arm over his shoulders. They find their balance together and, like that, they start forward. Careful of the weak, rain slick edges to the chasms around them. They limp along, injuries grinding together and causing one stumble after another. Somehow, they manage not to fall.

The path is a long one, though not particularly treacherous. It must have been made for maintenance, or perhaps to assist construction while the island was still being made. Otherwise, it makes it easier to fish bodies out of the water below. The road is flat and curving, only covered by spare scatterings of soaked rocks that crunch wetly underfoot. It is a merciful road to traverse. Salt clings to the walls and shakes loose at every nearby step.

They settle, for a while, into silence as they limp along, every step painful. The rain lightens to a trickle, and then to nothing. Curves are taken one by one, examined thoroughly at every bend. It could take hours to find any way up. Neither of them are in any condition to be climbing up the wall. 

Things are, at least, not as bad as they could be. They could have crashed against the rocks and survived, left to a slow death from mechanical failure and oil loss instead of a quick one. They could have gotten stuck underwater and died there. They could have lost each other in the tide. There are a thousand things that could have happened down falling down here, none of which did. 

Grey Link is alive, and he has company. Who insists on wanting to be his friend. For some goddamn reason.

The company is nice. He's still debating over the alive thing. 

The quiet is broken abruptly by a loud, awful grind. Topjoy stumbles slightly, face pinching in pain, then horror. 

“Oh no! My disk player is broken…” He whines despairingly, staring down at his own broken chest with despair. Grey Link flaps his mouth, just for a second. 

“Wh- What were you planning to do?” 

Topjoy, at that, gives him a Look. “I was going to play music! It's boring just walking without anything to listen to, you know!” He replies with a pout. 

Music. In a situation like this. Goddamn happy go lucky-

He almost laughs again. Perhaps, at this point, he is starting to go insane. He feels light headed, or perhaps just light. It must be the oil loss by now. 

At the very least, he does not feel cold.

“You'll survive, I'm sure.” He says dryly, as Topjoy sticks out his lip at him. 

“Says you! Come on, Grey Link! Don't you like music?” He says, jostling like he wants to nudge Grey Link, but unable to considering their position. 

“I like music.” Grey Link frowns. “I just don't think it's the time to be listening to it. We need to hear anything coming our way, or to any crumbling rock from the cliffs above.” He says, pointing upward with a raised brow. 

“Oh….you're right. But still.” Topjoy sighs miserably, tilting his head at Grey Link. “But really! What kind of music do you like? Are you going to be listening to any….after this? Where will you be going?”

It is….a whole lot of very obvious prodding. Topjoy, it seems, is very bad at hiding his intentions. They are worn like neon signs across his arms. The curious light sparkles behind his eyes. So damn genuine. 

“I….don't know what I'm doing after this. I didn't plan that far.”

He doesn't know why he admits that. He shouldn't have admitted that. Topjoy's mouth opens in a surprised O and matches his own. Grey Link does not cuss himself out, despite it. He refuses to push Topjoy off and shy away. Even so, he breaks eye contact and keeps his gaze on the cracks in the rock. He keeps his feet moving forward, against exhaustion of frame, mind, and heart. It helps that he is aware he has to at least get Topjoy out from these damn cliffs.

“Oh. Well you…..hm.” Topjoy stops, and the way he purses his lips is audible. The pause stretches for uncountable seconds. Above, the clouds continue to swirl dark. 

“Will you be….around our city? We could hang out sometime, if you are! You seem like somebody who needs to get out more often!” He continues eventually, grinning brightly.

The offense comes in staggered and stumbling. 

“I- Excuse me?” Grey Link squawks, almost sending Topjoy flailing when he jerks, “I get out often. It wasn't like I had a complex to live in, most of the time!” He says defensively. 

“But that's different! Do you do anything for fun other than killing people on murder island?” Topjoy replies, one arm flailing out for emphasis. 

“Murder isl-” A breathless, wheezing laugh comes out of Grey Link's chest, unbidden and disbelieving. 

It is technically not a false description. It is, in fact, an island built with the express idea of murder in mind. Silver Castle's murder specifically, but many leaguers had already met their end here in the testing stages. 

Murder island is technically not a false description. Dammit. 

Humor obviously broken, he laughs again, incredulously. 

“Fuck. I guess it is. And I…..I didn't……” He reaches up with a free hand and rubs at his face. The unbroken side of his face at least, “We still play basketball, when there's a court around.” 

Topjoy blinks at him expectantly. 

“Anndddd…???”

“And nothing. Getting oil and a place to recharge from the prince didn't cover extracurriculars.” Grey Link replies with a frown. Topjoy frowns back. 

“Well that's sad. You need to get out more! You know, a friend of Bull Armor started an American football team all on his own, recently. Maybe you could do that with yours! You could get your spirit back!” He says. Visibly, the leaguer aborts a happy little skip. Nearly stumbles over the messed up ankle and takes Grey Link with him. With a grumble, Grey Link corrects their course again. 

“Spirit, huh?” He says, mostly to himself. 

Spirit. What an odd thing to imagine a leaguer to have. Could a machine ever truly have one? He never used to think about it. More recently, he wondered if they had enough of one to ever go to an afterlife. If there was anything left for the ones not made of flesh and bone, once they were scrapped. He doesn't believe there is anything after for anyone at all, but….it is interesting to think about. Or perhaps just sad. 

“If we survive, I'll think about it.” He says eventually, and Topjoy grins with all the brightness of the sun. Faced with such…aplomb for life, it is difficult to imagine there isn't some kind of spirit contained in that warm metal chest. Even if it is a warmth that his fellow leaguer has not shared in some time.

“We'll survive. Magnum and everybody will get the ball through the goal, I just know it!” He proclaims, bold as anything. Bright like he believes it. 

“You have a lot of faith in your team.”

“I do! They're the best team in the whole world, don't you know?”

Grey Link laughs again, short and disbelieving. This guy….. The ridiculousness of it all is….so much. 

He finds himself almost believing it, all the same.

He refuses to let himself think of his own team at the moment. He cannot. If he does, he will falter and break, all over again. He will spill off the edge and not come back. 

He led them here, and turned his back when they fell. No matter if he was their captain, made to guide them to places better than this. No matter if he was supposed to do something, anything other than let them die in some god forsaken hole in the ground. 

He was their captain. For all the good it did anyone. He doesn't deserve the title. 

“Are you thinking of something?” Topjoy asks softly, and he scoffs. 

“Trying not to.”

“Oh….”

Topjoy frowns again. Grey Link does not fill the silence as it comes and rises around them once more. Broken only by limping feet and delicate rocks crunching underfoot. The rumble of water rushing below. There are no answers to be found here, between the stones. 

Topjoy continues to stare, something inscrutable behind that cracked visor. The silence becomes oppressive very quickly with that gaze on him.

Inevitably, Grey Link breaks.

“What?” He grunts. Topjoy's frown deepens, drags the material of his face into creases that mimic the craters that surround them. He is a leaguer, Grey Link reminds himself, that is older than he looks. Or acts, for that matter. 

“You know….maybe you should talk about what you're thinking anyway?” Topjoy offers, hesitantly. “You seem like you have a lot on your mind anyway and….you know, it's bad to get stuck up in your own head!” 

Grey Link's eyes narrow. “And you would know that from personal experience?” 

For once, Topjoy doesn't flinch. Once again, his face has gone strange and flat, lips pulled in a thin line. 

“I do.”

Grey Link stares. 

After everything, however, he does not make for a very good opponent. Once more he breaks the contact first, doesn't stare at his feet so he doesn't make them stumble. The air in his vents stays forever cold. Sighing it out does not help.

“My team.” He says flatly, the words grinding through his throat as broken gears do, “I put them here. And they-” 

He scoffs tightly. 

It would be easier to blame them, he thinks. They could have left, after all. Sports is not the only place leaguers are allowed to work. They could have done anything else with their lives, rather than tagging at his heels and promising that he was still their captain, and that they were in it together. In a way, it would be their fault that they followed him here. Had willfully and gleefully taken part. It would be their fault that they cared at all. 

Always there, from the moment he had been made. Hands on his back and grins that matched his own. 

Singular. Constant. Gone. 

To be made as a part of a matched set is no small thing, as any team would recognize. Sacred in it's own right. And still, here he is. He has lost anything he has ever held tightly to. Crushed it between his fingers and watched the pieces fall like sand. Never bothered even trying to wash the oil off. 

The loss was inevitable in that constant downward spiral they had been subject to. It was going to happen one way or another. In a ditch or to battle or just from sheer stupidity. He had waited and anticipated, but he had never wanted to be the last. He never wanted to-

“Grey….Link?” 

Crying with a broken optic, as it turns out, is very painful. He has to stop walking and crush his lids down as mechanisms spark and hiss. He chokes, and pretends to himself that it is only the optic that pains him. 

Closing his eyes does not help. The lubricants gather and spill anyway, trapped in that space and seeping into the broken components. Wires and metal bits sting violently in protest as the agony pools down. At his shoulder, Topjoy tugs. 

“Hey…we should sit down.” He says, and Grey Link does not protest. His legs fold like flimsy paper, bringing them both down with a sharp clattering sound. He tries very hard not to let the impact shock the helpless, angry sob out of him that wants to come out like glass in his throat.  

He fails, of course. 

Silently, his fellow leaguer reaches out and wraps an arm around his shoulder. Under it, Grey Link trembles and does not shatter completely. He would not survive it. Not today, when he has already been broken down so thoroughly. Today, when all his armor has been peeled off to expose the rotten, ugly thing inside.

He kneels, and shakes, and does not allow himself to cry as the temperature rises in his chest till he is forced to breathe with a dragon's glut of steam. Topjoy's arm stays around his shoulder, and he does not shake it off. The exhaustion sinks back in all over again like cold fog on his bones. The grief and anger stick behind his teeth like bad oil. He almost marvels at how quickly his emotions can turn for the worse if he just thinks too much.

They stay like that for….longer than he wants to admit. Breathing in salty air and regret. It is Topjoy, this time, that breaks the silence. 

“We should keep moving.” The leaguer says softly.

Grey Link cannot help the rise of something awful like bile in his throat. He forces it to come out in a snarl instead of a sob as he grips his fingers at the ground petulantly because he is tired physically and emotionally, and it makes him angry. He always reaches for anger instead of anything else. 

“I don't want to.” He snips at the rock below, crushing pebbles into his seams. 

“What?” Topjoy squeaks at him. 

“I said I don't want to!” He barks, and the sound is loud enough to echo. Bouncing off every wall and making it louder. All encompassing and despairing. 

He doesn't want to keep going. All over again, what he wants to do is lay down and just stop. Because he doesn't- What is the point? Why did he get up in the first place? Because Topjoy wanted him to? Because the radiating hope was infectious? But why hope at all when he is this? Where would he go from here? There isn't any point. He is now alone, too broken to fix with money he doesn't have, too broken in other ways for any other team to take him….there was never any point.

This had been their last hurrah. He had thought they would have burned out more brilliantly than this, but here they are. Their chances were dead in the water the moment they left the league. It was all just….

“Captain?!”

He blinks. 

“‘Scuse me?” He asks dumbly. Topjoy blinks back at him with wide, wide eyes. 

“That…wasn't me.” Topjoy says. 

“Captainnn???”

Both of them tilt their heads up as the sound echoes off the walls, bouncing back and forth between rock and stone, ferrying itself innocently through open audial receptors. It is not a hallucination. As if called by some kind of summoning ritual, the voice of a familiar teammate spins between the cracks and shatters a downward spiral where it is.

“You've got to be fucking kidding me.” Grey Link says, helpless and disbelieving as he stumbles up to his feet. “There's no way. There's no way.”

He reaches down, snatching Topjoy roughly by the collar and bullying him onto his boots too, regardless of the pained complaints and groaning, creaking gears. No matter the strained wires and mechanical tendons. Together, stumbling and awkward over aching struts, they trip down the rocky path and around the next corner.

What he sees must be driven by miracle, or luck, or some god's fucked up sense of humor.

Favoring one leg and pressed to the wall as he limps along, one of Grey Link's very own team blinks watery eyes up at the duo through a cracked visor. Buddy, Grey Link registers distantly. The first one to fall, being a dumbass who had kicked a cliff out from under himself while attacking one of Silver Castle. Worse for wear of course, but alive. Bits of armor missing, scraped down to metal in places, visor broken, but still limping along with the springs of one leg out of place.

“Buddy!” He shouts, watching the ghost made manifest perk up.

“Captain!!” Buddy shouts back, nearly falling over his own legs picking up speed. Or trying to, on his broken leg. 

Grey Link, despite his haste, does not drop Topjoy on the ground. This does not mean he is gentle in dragging the both of them forward to meet his teammate, ignoring the many pitchy complaints as Topjoy is dragged along beside him. His own body hurts too, but it is washed away in the rush of the moment, just trying to get closer to see. He only stops dragging when they nearly tumble into each other, shoulders banging with a clatter of already abused armor and teeth gritted into their grins. 

“Captain! You're alive! And- Uh-” Buddy starts, and Grey Link cannot be insulted by how genuinely surprised he sounds. The greeting, however, is stopped short in light of eyes finally focusing on who said captain is dragging along with him. They narrow into confused slits as Topjoy giggles nervously into his audial, half hiding behind him. 

“Ignore him. We're done, Buddy. The battle is over.” He says, voice rough in his throat for one too many reasons. Scraped raw and hurting as his teammate focuses on him again with raised brows.

“We're……?”

“Done.” He repeats, nodding shortly. “There is no battle for us here, anymore. The Prince of Darkness has left us to die for our failure, and the rest Silver Castle has moved on. This one is….” 

He pauses. Sighs, because how is he supposed to explain Topjoy? 

Topjoy, with a smile starting to cross his face, finds a description for himself. 

“We're friends!” The leaguer chirps cheerily, a blat of grinding static coming from his speakers as he tries and fails to start playing music. Buddy's jaw drops. Grey Link's eye twitches.

“Don't get ahead of yourself.” He growls pointedly, shoving Topjoy with a shoulder before huffing through his nose. 

“We have no reason to fight any longer. He….helped when we fell into the water together. Everyone did, I think. But you've been down here the longest. Are you-?” 

“Living.” Buddy says with a rough, sideways sort of grin, “Fell in the water too, but I was right beneath one of these paths. I was knocked around on the way down, but I managed. Lucky that my arms didn't break.” He says, flexing the springs of one arm.

“Ha. Aren't we all.” Grey Link laughs, breathless and throaty. He ignores the kind of look it gets him, because he has other things to worry about. He does not dare start hoping now but- 

“Buddy. Do you know where the others are? If they-?”

Already, Buddy is shaking his head.

“I didn't see anyone. But before I heard you I thought I heard a- A truck? Or…something. But it could have just been the water.” He says, shoulders bobbing awkwardly. 

“A truck.” Grey Link says dubiously. Next to him, Topjoy suddenly grabs him and shakes excitedly. 

“Oh! Grey Link! That could be Silver Castle's mechanic! He was riding around in a truck to help us before! He's probably looking for me! If he is, he could help us all out of here!” He says, bouncing on his one good leg. He does not seem even mildly cowed by the looks given by both opposing leaguers.

“Your mechanic. Helping us.” Grey Link says through a deep, deep breath. “Topjoy. We tried to kill you and your team. I nearly succeeded. Don't say such-” 

“He would!” Topjoy interrupts, face gone hard, “You're not the first ones to try to kill us, you know! We've come a long way, on our trip here! It's like I said before! When the battle is over, all leaguers are friends! Our battle is done, right? So we're friends! And because of that, our mechanic will definitely help!” He says confidently. There is only a small pause. “As long as he has..time. Between fixing everybody else.”

Buddy's jaw has dropped open at Topjoy. The surprise is dulled for Grey Link, but he still agrees with the sentiment. All over again, he wants to laugh. 

“You really are something else.” He mutters as the leaguer just grins, bright as sunshine. 

Grey Link, with a grind and a spark of pain, rolls his shoulders back and breathes in the salty air. One more deep breath for the road, because now, no matter the ups and downs, he will have to keep moving. No matter how much he wants to lay down and let the storm take him. He will not fail his team again. What is left of it, at least.

It is easier to think of it as spite. The Prince had wanted them all dead if they failed, but it doesn't matter what he wants. They will continue regardless. After all, it is not the first time they have been abandoned. He reaches out. 

“Come on, Buddy. There is nothing back where we came, so we will see what you heard. There has to be a way up somewhere here.” He says with a nod to them all. And, no matter how much he has failed them, his teammate still does not argue as he comes up on Grey Link's other side and wraps an arm around his shoulder.

Together, they walk on. Three sets of feet moving in heavy limps, slow over the craggy ground. Through the twists and turns. Here, Grey Link can see where Buddy had walked. Smearing drips of oil are on the rock, on the walls where Buddy had held on to stay steady. There is a small puddle at one point, where his teammate had obviously stopped to rest. It is not enough to worry about sudden deactivation for now, but they will have to worry eventually. Hopefully after they all get out of here. Dying to a slow leak after all this fuss would be pathetic.

The silence here is not broken, this time. Not by Topjoy, by Grey Link, or by Buddy. It is not a heavy quiet, but it is…..something. The air sinks in and cools heated vents. Overclocked processing begins to cycle down into a chugging sort of exhaustion. Introspection happens, but it is made dull in the wake of aching bodies and waning energy. Above, the sky rumbles dark. 

One step after another, they keep moving. They have to now, by obligation if nothing else. Bound by one another and fleeting, tired hope. By a chance that Grey Link did not want, but will be getting anyway. 

It continues to be an odd feeling. No matter how familiar he is with being obligated to keep going. He puts one foot in front of the other and keeps his eyes ahead. 

Eventually, Buddy raises his free hand towards a- A bridge of some sort. Made between one rock wall to another path on the other side. The bridge is rock as well, and lacks any rails, but it looks sturdy enough. For three leaguers, certainly. It is the first one they have seen this whole trip, and idly, Grey Link wonders how far these paths go. 

“There. I heard it somewhere over there. But still, I think it may be the water. I'm not- My sensors…” 

Grey Link nods, and hikes his tagalongs up a little more. With a frown, he strains his hearing. 

Distantly, beneath the rushing water, he thinks he hears…..something. A distant whirr of an engine. It's too hard to tell if it is a hallucination or not. Regardless, he nods sharply. 

“Then we go there. It's better than nothing.” He says firmly, pushing all three of them cautiously forward.

Bits and pieces of loose rock fall as the three trundle their way over the bridge. Dust blows from around their feet and wisps away off the edges as they move, disappearing into the air and down below the waves. Far below, the water continues its unrelenting crash, wearing down at the walls and carving steadily along the path.

One day, perhaps soon, the bridge will collapse. 

The most important thing, however, is that it does not collapse now. It holds strong, and they make it over the waters without stumbling and falling all over again. There is no sigh of relief, but the feeling is still palpable. Carried in a brief moment of shaking knees. 

They keep walking. One turn after another.

The first clear thought that bubbles up out of the darkness for Grey Link, as they move on and on, is that the noise was a goddamn truck. It was not simply imagination.

The second thought is that god absolutely has a fucked up sense of humor. 

Because under the rumble of water and the whirl of a truck's engine, he hears the quiet chatter of his team. Tensed, pitchy, someone has a broken voice box he thinks, from the static in the voice. 

Silently, the three of them exchange a look. They stumble forward in tandem, faster. That they again avoid completely falling over each other is yet another undeserved blessing. The pains are ignored completely for the few steps it takes to get around the next corners. 

The truck, as it turns out, does not belong to Silver Castle's chief mechanic. 

Splayed on the ground and up against the walls is the rest of his team. A couple of them are unconscious, and all of them are in a shape just about as rough as one would imagine. Broken, dented, missing pieces and scraped to raw metal. Some of them are still dripping water, seemingly freshly retrieved. It pools beneath them and slides off the edge of the cliff. Fills the cracks in the rock and sinks into the dirt. 

At the center of it all is a large truck, a long crane for grabbing leaguers extended from the back. Sitting on the edge of it, Grey Link is surprised to find a familiar face smiling languidly back at him and waving a small, calloused hand.

Ricardo Ginjo, one leg crossed over the other, sleeves rolled to the elbow, and lab coat draped over the edge of the truck bed, greets the three with a slack shouldered laxness that says he is not, and could never be, worried at all about the situation they have found themselves in. He radiates the same kind of calm he did when they had first met the man. Nothing has changed. Not a bit. A tablet is held loosely in his lap.

“Mr. Ginjo?” Topjoy yelps, promptly drawing the attention of all leaguers in the general vicinity. Grey Link's team, understandably, goes up in a roar upon seeing them. Teeth gritted, Grey Link keeps them moving forward to a reasonable distance for conversation. 

“Right on time. We've been waiting for you, you know.” Ricardo says smoothly, the smile on his lips serene as anything, “Your team was very worried, Grey Link. Buddy. I'm glad you found Topjoy as well. It will be easier to get everyone back together this way, though I'm afraid we don't have much time.”

“I…you…..why are you here?” Grey Link chokes out. Ricardo's smile twitches just that little bit higher in response. 

“Unlike what some may think, no leaguer is replaceable. I came down to retrieve you.” He says mildly, head tipping slightly, “Though it seems you have retrieved yourselves well enough. It does spare me having to find you, at least. These roads are very thin.” 

Grey Link pointedly does not grind his jaw at such a casual approach to this all. A side eye towards the rest of his team, and one of them shrugs helplessly. Evidently they too have become familiar with this strange treatment. 

“Oh well! We're in good hands, then! Thank you, Dr. Ginjo!” Topjoy says cheerfully, bouncing on his one good leg as Grey Link frowns back. 

“Good hands.” He repeats, dubiously. Topjoy nods. 

“He did weird things to Ryuuken! But they turned out to be good weird things, so it's ok!” He says. Grey Link's head spins. 

“W-Weird things?” 

“He put an extra driver in, a long time ago! And it set Ryuuken on fire!” 

“Oh.” 

The dubious side eye he sends Ricardo, despite these reassurances, does not get any less intense. Under the scrutiny, the man only shrugs and hums. 

“I won't do anything ‘weird’ to you or your team. You have my word, Grey Link.” He says, dripping quiet humor as the leaguer's eye twitches. He isn't sure he believes it, but what other choice do they have? 

With a quiet whuff of air, Ricardo takes his tablet and pushes off the side of the truck. No longer blocking the view, Grey Link is suddenly treated to the realization that there are other leaguers in the truck, and that he is being glared miserably at by a set of goggled eyes. 

“Wishbone?” He asks incredulously, nearly tripping up his passengers as he forces his way up to the edge of the truck. On the other hand, it allows said passengers to finally let go of him, clutching the edge of the truck instead, and easing the aches in his struts that Grey Link didn't even realize he had. 

Indeed, Wishbone and his team are, in fact, also in the truck. Looking…strange. Ice clings to armor and joints and forms large puddles as it melts into the truck beneath them. What few are awake look appropriately miserable, armor clattering as they shake. 

“What the hell happened to you?” He asks incredulously. 

“The hockey leaguer,” Wishbone hisses behind his teeth, “had a freezer module. He froze the whole swamp around us.” 

Despite himself, Grey Link whistles. Impressive. And certainly a bit funny, turning the team's one greatest strength into the means of their defeat. 

Distracted as he is, he nearly jumps out of his armor when a tiny, warm hand is placed on his back. 

“As much as I would like to allow you all to chat, we are on quite the time limit. Would you please get in? Grey Link, you should help the rest of your team as well. They are not in the best shape, and using the crane can be quite rough.” Ricardo says with a vague little smile as he walks around to hop in the front. 

Gritting his back teeth, Grey Link is forced to concede. Wordlessly, he helps Topjoy, and then Buddy into the back of the truck. Winces are made as they plop into the puddles of ice water, but there isn't much to do about it anyhow. Them settled, Grey Link makes his way to the rest of his team.

“You're alive.” One of them says, sounding….more than a little awed at that fact, and Grey Link does not bristle or feel his chest fill with guilt. He leans down to start helping gather the ones who can't walk on their own. 

“I'm alive.” He agrees. “And so are all of you. That's good.”

It is the only thing he says on the matter, because it is not the time or place to get emotional. He doesn't trade hugs on a good day, nevermind now. He will not cry again, and he will not let the sigh of relief that wants to come out break him down to his barest struts. Not now. Just the looks his team are giving him are enough. One of them squeezes his side as he hauls them up, and he does not shiver. Bunch of troublesome….

“So what's up with the-?” Another asks, looking pointedly over at Topjoy, and Grey Link huffs. 

“The battle is over, so there's no point fighting him anymore. He…helped save me. Insists on being friendly.” He says, and bares through the confused looks he gets. “I know. But he's- He is no longer our enemy. So stop looking at me like that and just….”

He huffs through his nose. 

“Be nice. Or something like that.”

His team does in fact gape at him for that. In response, he only hurries up in shoving them roughly into the truck, biting through his own pains to send them kicking over the edge and into the bed. One by one, with various clunks and painful sounding bashes of metal, they are hauled into the back until finally Grey Link can also hop up. 

It is, predictably, horrifically cold thanks to all the drippings. Grumbling the whole way, he bullies a teammate out of his path so he can plonk down next to Topjoy. Beneath them, the truck rumbles into motion and jostles as its hover pads activate and lift them into the air. 

Topjoy, of course, is grinning at him. He frowns. 

“What?” He grumbles.

“Nothing! I'm just happy we're here together! I hope this isn't the last time we see each other!” Topjoy replies, kicking his feet. 

Grey Link is very, very aware of the looks he is getting, and bites his tongue around anything defensive he could say.

“I'm sure it won't be. You seem very persistent.” He says vaguely, and Topjoy smiles like he just made his whole day. His whole week. 

Just from that. 

“I'm glad, then! Once we're off the island, I'll give you our contact number! Then we can call whenever we want!” Topjoy says, knocking into his side happily. He, for some reason, does not begrudge this. Such open contact is….nice. Reluctantly, he admits that the contact and irritating amount of happiness is nice. 

He makes it a point not to smile. Looks for something to distract himself as Topjoy reaches up and wraps an arm around his neck. Jostles and chatters next to him for all the world to hear. When Wishbone raises a brow at him, he smirks back.

“‘Oh defeating them won't be any problem’, he says. ‘We have the perfect advantage in our environment’, he says.” Grey Link negs, letting his body drape back over the edge of the cars bed. The aches of broken armor sting into his sensory net, but the relief of incoming maintenance is a quiet balm to the pinch. 

“Shut up.” Wishbone growls back, expression dropping and comparatively heated as he continues to shake hard enough to make a symphony of his plating. Broken ice and frost continues to make the bottom of the bed wet and cold. Though it is hard to matter, between the rain and the mess of his own team. He still resents the chill of it.

Tucked against his side in something that should be far too close for comfort, though, Topjoy is very warm.

The truck rumbles onward and with it, Grey Link supposes he will just have to stick around to see what happens next. With his team alive and a new friend brushing up against him, the thought is more pleasant than it used to be.