Chapter Text
The terrain they were traveling through was lovely, in its own way. It was a shame none of them were in any condition to appreciate it.
Their group of nine had been fighting a running battle for three days, constantly hounded by monsters that seemed too clever and too strong by half. They hadn’t been able to sleep through the night without being attacked in the darkness, and their waking hours had been filled with bloodshed—both the monsters' and their own. Wounds accumulated, aches compounded, and they found themselves in a desperate race to find somewhere safe before their injuries led one of them to their doom.
The little group was especially anxious because they knew, to a one, that they could be swept away by a portal at any moment. They had already been in this in-between era for two weeks—by far the longest they had ever stayed in one Hyrule in the short six weeks they had been questing together.
Their luck was coming due, for good or ill.
They had been chased far from civilization, and were now deep in the badlands. The arid landscape was beautiful but harsh. Rocky outcroppings in every shade of orange and yellow and pale brown turned into a mountainous maze of gullies and valleys, shining golden under bright sunlight unobstructed by clouds. The soft sand that layered the bottoms of the gullies whispered gently to them with the wind. Sagebrush and hardy flowers clung to the thin soil, proving the resilience of life. The dry air caught in their throats and made them all gasp for breath, but at least it smelled clean, free of the stench of monsters, blood, or smoke—for the moment.
Twilight found the rocky ground to be challenging footing, with little stones constantly shifting underfoot and threatening to turn an ankle. And every tiny slip sent agony through his left knee.
He had taken a moblin's club to the kneecap in that morning's battle, and by now he could feel the heat radiating from the swollen joint. He was pretty sure that it was dislocated.
Twilight wanted nothing more than to ask for a halt to their weary march so he could deal with his knee. He knew from experience that he needed to set the joint before taking a potion for the pain and swelling. But that was where things got tricky.
Every step throbbed, every breath puffed between his clenched teeth, but he was careful not to let it hiss. He knew he wouldn't be able to keep his pain concealed from Hyrule if their healer was well, but Hyrule was currently draped over Time's back, exhausted from saving Sky's life on top of a hard battle. That meant the Old Man was also distracted from noticing Twilight's discomfort.
Four and Legend were leaning on each other, Four in worse shape than the Veteran by a long shot, just off a fairy that had healed his gut wound. Wind, meanwhile, was tasked with keeping Wild talking, to see if his head injury was worse than they thought. And Warriors was keeping hawk eyes on Sky, who—still disoriented from shock and blood loss—needed help walking, his eyes drooping closed and his steps stumbling.
They didn't need to know how much pain Twilight was in. It didn't matter, anyway—nobody would be able to carry him or help him walk, and Twilight wasn't quite ready to face the excruciating pain of setting a joint.
Besides, something wild in his heart refused the idea of letting someone else do him harm, even if it was to help him. Something in his very veins shuddered at the thought of anyone touching him today. All the ambushes and constantly being on high alert had tuned his senses tightly, and he found himself completely wound up, tense as a strung bow.
He was actually afraid of what he might do to one of the others if they deliberately caused him sharp, sudden pain.
He wouldn't chance it.
They rounded yet another pile of rocks and suddenly the path they were following opened up slightly, depositing them into a small sloped area with boulders all around. It made a kind of sheltered rock clearing, protected from the dry wind and hidden from view. A natural fort.
"Packs down," Time said immediately, his normally smooth voice raspy with exhaustion.
No one else even had the energy to reply, shrugging out of gear and dropping where they stood. Wild started to haul himself up on top of one of the boulders to keep watch, but Wars coaxed him back. "Better we stay unseen for now," the Captain advised.
Twilight looked around with eyes glazed over with pain, and realized this was his best opportunity.
"Canteens," he offered. He had to concentrate in order to not slur his words. "I'll fill 'em from the stream."
A few canteens were listlessly held up for him to collect. Twilight grit his teeth as he carefully made his way around the group, trying not to limp too visibly. He didn't want anyone to stop him. His nerves were singing, not just from pain, but from the anxious feeling that he didn't want these people to know he was injured, didn't want them to get involved.
The wolf in him was afraid that injury was weakness and weakness meant vulnerability. He didn't want to find out just how far their forced camaraderie extended.
No one was watching him. Before he could lose his nerve, he slipped away between the rocks.
He didn't want to go far, but he knew he would probably make some noise when setting the joint, so he tried to get far enough away that nobody would hear him. The pain in his leg had become a monotonous drone, drowning out all other sensations and dulling his alertness. He could barely see through watering eyes, so he picked his way blindly between the rocks, using them where he could to take weight off his knee.
Finally he picked an area that he thought was far enough—though it was hard for him to tell, actually; with how his leg was paining him, he felt like he'd walked for miles already.
He set his back against a boulder and slid down it, trying to keep his leg still. His knee was screaming at him. He sucked in breath after breath through clenched teeth, trying to calm his racing heart enough that he could set the joint.
There was a sharp "Psst!" behind Twilight, and he startled, jolting forward. Agony shot through his leg and he curled around his knee as his vision went red.
The hiss was followed by a rustling sound, the scuff of boots on gravel, the swish of fabric rubbing against fabric.
"Rancher?" came Warriors' voice, his tone one of professional concern.
Twilight had to swallow back bile from the pain. "Captain," he managed to return.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Warriors step around the rock Twilight was pressed against, his distinctive blue cape filling Twilight's field of view. The Captain stopped short when he saw Twilight crumpled.
"Twilight, what the hell?" Warriors barked. "Why did you wander off? We need to stick together—"
"None your business," Twilight gritted out, refusing to look up. His cheeks burned with embarrassment at being caught so easily.
Warriors paused. "Twilight, are you—Are you injured?" The Captain dropped down to squat beside him, hands already reaching out to poke, prod, grab, to hurt—
"Leave it!" Twilight snapped, his head jerking up so he could glare, wild-eyed, at the Captain, his teeth bared unconsciously.
Warriors jerked his hand back as though Twilight had tried to bite him. "What's wrong with you?" he demanded. "If you're hurt why didn't you say anything? You need help—"
"Don't need nothing!" Twilight barked back.
"Clearly you do!"
"Don't need nothing from you," Twilight insisted. "Just gotta set th' joint, drink a potion, and move on. Nothing to it."
"Goddesses, you're stubborn," Warriors groaned. "Is that what this is about? Your pride?"
Twilight swallowed back a snippy retort. The high-and-mighty Captain was the wrong man to lecture him on pride. But Twilight didn't know how to explain that he felt like if anyone so much as touched his shoulder right now, he would scream. So he stayed silent.
"Twilight, we're a team. We were brought together for a reason. We need to be able to trust each other, and yet you hid an injury and lied about where you were going—"
"Trust, huh? Why'd ya follow me then?" Twilight snarled.
"Stream is that way," Warriors pointed out, but Twilight caught a flicker of guilt in his eyes. He wasn't sure how to interpret it.
Twilight knew he was being unreasonable. Inside, he was squirming like a child. He was mad at Warriors, but mostly mad at himself.
And he hurt, and he knew it was going to hurt more soon, and he was afraid.
"So? Why did you lie?" Warriors pressed him, looking at him with something like pity in his face and something like hurt in his voice, and it seemed thoroughly out of proportion for the situation.
"Everybody lies, Captain," Twilight spat.
Warriors rocked back on his heels. "I suppose they do," he replied bitterly.
The two of them lapsed into thorny silence.
After a few minutes, Warriors seemed to steel himself for another attempt.
"Let me help you reset it," he said. "I have medical training. I have experience. And it's safer to have someone do it to you than to try doing it yourself."
This was the first Twilight had heard of Wars having medical training. "What, you some kind of bonesaw?"
"Field surgery," Wars replied quietly. He didn't seem to care to elaborate.
Twilight tsked and looked away. He wanted to give in, to give up on his pride and accept what was being offered. But he also powerfully didn't want that. He felt disgusted with himself either way.
Warriors' face fell, but he didn't give up. "If you won't let me help you, then come back to the others with me. I'm sure Wild or Legend has something that will dull the pain."
Twilight shook his head sharply. Bad enough that Warriors had caught him. He didn't want to go through this mortification with anyone else. Better to not see them until he could stand on his own two feet.
Wars sighed lightly. "At least let me offer you something, then."
The Captain reached into his bag, rummaged around for a second, and then pulled out—not a potion—but a large metal flask. He extended it to Twilight, and as it came under Twilight's nose, it smelled sour enough to make him flinch even with the cap still on.
"What kind of belly rot is that?" Twilight demanded, gagging.
"It's just brandy," Wars said with a frown, sniffing the vile stuff himself. "It's medicinal."
Twilight scowled and reached his hand out for the flask. He took four heavy swallows, grimacing as the unfamiliar taste hit his tongue.
Medicinal, my ass.
"I won't judge you if you keep going," Warriors said. Twilight sneered at him and defiantly capped the flask. The harsh liquid burned in his stomach, which was still churning, but it hit his head quickly, making his scalp tingle. After another minute passed, he decided he felt a little floaty.
He thought maybe it would be safe, now, to let someone else touch him.
As though reading his mind, Warriors said, "Now will you let me look?"
Twilight grudgingly started to tug his pant leg out of his boot and roll it up. Even with the brandy softening the edges of the pain, he had to pause every few seconds to carefully breathe through his nose.
Warriors hovered, helping him tug and tease the pant leg up over the swollen joint. Together they revealed a knee that had ballooned to twice its normal size, red and hot and angry, with mottled purple bruising starting to emerge. Pinpricks of burst blood vessels dotted Twilight's skin like freckles.
"Merciful Farore," Warriors hissed, "you walked on this?" His voice took on a tone of outrage.
Twilight couldn't help but flinch. Why was Warriors mad at him? He'd only done what was best for the group.
"You could have done serious damage to the joint," Wars scolded him. The Captain rubbed his hands together briskly to warm them, reached out, then paused. "May I touch?" he asked.
Now Twilight was even more confused. Who asked before touching? He swallowed, tasting the lingering brandy on his teeth. He consented with a nod, and Wars laid his hands on either side of the knee, feeling out the joint.
Twilight struggled not to whine in pain, struggled to stay still. Wars was not the most experienced doctor he had ever had poking at him, but he had the steady hands for it at least. Twilight felt his ears pin back against his head and he strove to bear the touch against inflamed, sensitive skin, every brush of sensation making him shiver with the overwhelming awareness of his own vulnerability. Even so, the gentle touch of sword-calloused hands felt… nice, somehow. A touch with no other purpose that to soothe, no other motive than to heal.
Wars gave the knee a slight squeeze, and Twilight couldn't help the yelp that he let out. "Shh, shh, I'm sorry," Wars said quickly. "I'm so sorry. That must have hurt."
"No shit," Twilight retorted.
Warriors snorted on a laugh. "At least you can joke about it," he said encouragingly.
Warriors moved his hands to gently lift Twilight's heel, and black sparks filled the rancher's vision for a moment. When he could see again, Wars was sitting very still, supporting his heel and watching his face closely. The worry in his expression cleared a little when Twilight met his eyes.
"I'm ready to pull the leg straight," Wars said softly. "May I?"
Twilight shook his head sharply. His stomach was cold and sinking. This was going to hurt, it was going to hurt so much. The brandy in his veins was helping his courage but not his nausea. He was going to throw up, surely.
"You can trust me, Twilight," Wars promised.
Twilight closed his eyes. His pulse was pounding in his temples.
Finally, Twilight nodded his agreement.
Twilight heard fabric rustle as Wars returned the nod. "One, two—"
The ground dropped out from under Twilight.
Where his hands had been braced against the ground, suddenly there was nothing below them. Where his back had been pressed against the boulder, instead there was only emptiness. He was falling backwards with no way to catch himself.
Like plunging into icy water, Twilight felt the shock of going from warm air to chill emptiness. The void embraced him from behind.
There was a yank on his leg as he was torn from Warriors' grasp, a shout above him, and then the portal swallowed him whole.