Chapter Text
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Sword tried to ignore it. That gut-sinking feeling, the idea of something bigger or beyond him trying to grab at his back. He recognized what it was, but the two choices it left up to him weren’t pretty.
There was the normal option, pretending Darkheart didn’t exist for the sake of getting left alone. It took a lot of effort, and a lot of ignoring all the times he’d say ‘I can tell you hear me, Sword’.
Because he’d always grimace at that sentence.
But it would work after ten to thirty minutes.
He’d try doing that, but Darkheart wasn’t usually around when he was about to change.
Or when he was planning to go to Rocket’s shop to interrupt his shift.
Both very important things in his eyes, despite how he tried to underplay it. The changing was simply embarrassing when watched, and he knew Zuka had a personal grudge against all the Swords, minus Venomshank.
All in all, he was phucked. In royal terms, he was even fucked, but he’d try not to say that so openly.
“Sword, you can react.”
And there it was.
The noxious energy he brought around by speaking, along with the feeling of dread. Sword hated it.
“It’s fine if you don’t,” the voice was taunting him as he left his closet, trying to comb his hair and fit on his helmet, “We can always go mess with Rocket. That’d be better, wouldn’t it?”
That wasn’t Darkheart’s script.
Sword turned around instantly, looking more irritated than before. Darkheart stood before him with that big Cheshire cat grin, his presence darkening the room without even meaning to.
He was beginning to dislike him more than usual.
“Leave Rocket out of whatever you’re doing.” Sword grumbled, combing his hair a tad bit more aggressively before trying to make the braid.
His helmet was stubborn today.
“We could.” That implied something he didn’t want to hear.
“But then you’d keep ignoring us! And that’s jus’ no fun.”
Sword finished the braid and pulled on his helmet, pushing past his uncle and only somewhat continuing the argument, “I’m not gonna keep acknowledging you if all you’re doing is threatening my friend.”
“So cruel!” He could see Darkheart trailing behind in his footsteps, silent as if in thought before trying to attack something personal again, “Hm, we suppose that’s what Venomshank’s parenting does.”
“And this is what having no parents does,” he mumbled back, ignoring the feigned overdramatic gasp he got in return.
To be real, Sword had no idea why Darkheart was choosing to follow him out. He knew the deity wasn’t visible in his shadow without some clear training.
Zuka would definitely see the way his shadow flickered, or the little bits of it that’d practically spark. It was a skill obtained only by people the deity chose, unfortunately.
Walking around the Crossroads would’ve been easier if there wasn’t some secondary mind interrupting all his peace with annoying remarks.
“We could use my doors, Sword. Wouldn’t that be easier?” Darkheart chimed, practically swirling around him while speaking.
Those doors sounded annoying right now; that was most definitely a trap.
“I prefer walking.”
“How boring!” But still, the deity didn’t force him into anything.
Thankfully.
He remembered being pushed down that doorway before and trying to figure his way out. Darkheart truly did add nothing but evil to his life, now that he looked back on it.
“Your expression hides none of what you’re thinking. We think that’s a good trait, though! Look at how grumpy you are.”
Sword’s cheek was being pinched. The walk to Zuka’s shop had never been so long in his life! Being annoyed was one thing to make it take longer, but he could tell when the alleyways looped into themself. Alleyways that he’d memorized after years.
Darkheart was intentionally trying to stall out how long his walk was with that dumb manipulation.
Sword’s a lot of things. He’s nice, and he knows how to be patient when he needs to. That, along with being a ‘little’ naive, but there was a difference between that and being stupid.
The difference was small in theory, but it was bigger in practice.
Which was why he knew Darkheart was trying to make him feel stupid.
“Can you not do that?” He’d still try being decent about the whole thing, turning the same corner for the third time with a little sigh.
The whole ordeal had likely kept him stuck being ten minutes away.
He could see the shadows forming in front of him as Darkheart appeared, trying to play up his sweetness, “Do what?”
“That!” Sword pointed to where the alley ended, watching it slowly shape and form into another, “I know that’s not the real path.”
“That’s not us.”
“Really?”
“Yup, just poor architecture.”
This liar.
Being played for a fool once or twice by Rocket was cute, and Sword even found it funny when he looked back on the moments positively. But he didn’t like being treated stupidly otherwise.
This wasn’t his first time being subject to taunting.
Sword summoned his gear, triple-checking the walls around him weren’t real with some slow presses of his hand before directly throwing the sword into a wall.
It worked!
He was back in the normal alley, and he must’ve looked somewhat crazy sprinting onto the walkway.
“Notice how Rocket still hasn’t asked where you are?”
That was such a stupid tactic.
Talking to himself in public did make him look crazy, and it somewhat embarrassed him, but there weren’t many other options.
“Rocket is just working and worried about that.”
“Or he doesn’t care about our favorite nephew.”
“You don’t care about your favorite nephew either.”
There was a small pause; Sword’s sign he was right. But still, that annoying voice persisted.
“Then why would we try to bring you to godhood with us?”
Was that what this was about?
“You should go tell Venomshank you’re doing that.”
No reply, again. That better have been a joke. Sword didn’t want to deal with all that.
Zuka’s store was finally closer than before, and he could see it now! Which meant he could ignore Darkheart by hyperfocusing on Rocket’s voice, appearance, or anything. It’d keep him from losing his mind.
There was still a silent presence behind him as the bell on the door rang, with it being held open a second longer by Darkheart entering behind him.
“Good morning, Zuka!”
He smiled like nothing was bothering him, but he could see it in the man’s reaction.
His eyes narrowed in on something behind Sword, and he had a feeling he knew what it was.
“Mornin’.” Zuka redirected his gaze after a second, looking at his face before questioning:
“You been feeling good today, Sword?”
“I’ve been just fine!”
That wasn’t really believable.
“You can tell me if you’re not.”
“We forgot about Rocket’s father,” Darkheart was more hushed in his ear, as if trying to conceal himself.
Whatever those two went through before, he didn’t want to become involved enough to know the details.
Sword cleared his throat upon seeing Zuka continue staring at his shadow, hesitantly asking, “Is Rocket upstairs?”
“Mhm.”
Having a veteran trained on something he wasn’t meant to see was odd. Not that odd, but it served as his reminder Darkheart was a deity who could flip at any moment.
“Stay down with me for a second.”
The grin Sword came in the store with faded, but he listened. Zuka pulled up a stool behind the cash register, into a position that’d put Sword sitting down right next to him.
Darkheart was making everything harder.
He could feel himself becoming irritated; he didn’t bother with saying anything aloud.
His uncle was some horribly old creature; he could learn consequences himself.
“You just sit right here; I’ll go get Rocket to come sit down with you.”
With one practiced, respectful nod, Zuka moved back as if he were going to fetch the other. But then Sword flinched, watching the other wind his arm back before aiming directly for his shadow.
So now Darkheart knew to move?
“Zuka?” That was too close to his head for him not to get scared.
“Saw a beetle, never mind that.”
That was a complete lie. It did work on getting the deity away from him, and Zuka did become more intent on bringing down Rocket by the time he did that.
Rocket was still in his pajamas while coming downstairs, carrying his own stool with a tired look. Sword looked away by the time he heard that tired, long yawn, unconsciously flushing when he stared too hard.
He placed it down next to Sword without a second thought, leaning his head right on him and grumbling a small, “G’morning.”
“Did Zuka wake you up just to hang out with me?” A nervous laugh came out of him before he adjusted himself, trying to get Rocket in a more comfortable position.
“Yeah.”
“You can’t go back to sleep on me.”
“You’re my best friend; just give me five minutes.” There was a head fully tucked into the crook of Sword’s neck despite his complaints, and one heavy prosthetic arm keeping him in place.
With a few little attempts at squirming away, he fully gave in, all red and irritated, “Go clock into work.”
“My shift starts in an hour.”
“Go do your overtime!”
He’d almost got caught being all comfortable, ignoring the sense of foreboding he could feel without Zuka in the room.
Darkheart was still in a shadow; he didn’t know which, but he was around.
That thought quickly left his head as Rocket pushed his face more to the side, making more space on his shoulder while retorting, “You’re the one who wanted to hang out.”
“Yeah, and I didn’t mean falling asleep on me.”
“I do this all the time!”
If Sword upset Rocket too much, he’d wake him up. He’d been tempted into their usual banter, but hearing the almost yell-like tone got him right back into being quiet.
Zuka didn’t even look surprised as he came back in, narrowing his eyes at Rocket and commenting, “Employee handbook doesn’t let you do this sort of thing in public.”
“‘m not doing anything.”
“Right.”
If anything, the man was looking more at Sword while continuing, “Looks like you’re doing something.”
His face being red gave him away.
“Still say I’m not.”
“You know, if you’re awake enough to try resting on Sword— why don’t you go ahead and get to work?”
Rocket didn’t even try to be quiet about his annoyance at that, using the fabric of Sword’s shirt to muffle the loud groan that got out of him.
He ignored the slight bit of spit it got on the cloth; Sword wasn’t too subtle about his embarrassment.
“Rocket.”
“I’m going, I’m going,” he could hear the power-up sound of Rocket’s leg.
Was he that serious about falling asleep on him?
Rocket stretched his arms and legs with a small whine while getting up, pushing at Sword’s head and heading back to his room.
Then it was quiet.
“Sword.”
Why did he think he could properly hide a lie from someone practically trained on them?
“You truly mean to tell me your morning’s been all fine? Nothing out of place? No repeating alleys while you got here?”
“Yeah, I mean—” He felt a headache forming. That wasn’t random.
“I just got a bit lost.”
“From the path you’ve followed since you were eleven?”
Sword gave a small nod, seeing the clear skepticism on the other’s face.
“I won’t bother you about it if you don’t want to tell me. Blood’s blood, or whatever.”
He knew.
His expression must’ve given him away, likely into one of horror. He couldn’t really control his face when being interrogated.
Darkheart was still unfortunately his blood, and the only reason Zuka would have a reason to say that was him already knowing.
“Just tell me if you need him off your back. Alright? I know that’s your- somethin’, so long Rocket isn’t involved, it won’t be my problem.”
When Rocket walked back into the room, Zuka was playing it off by giving him a ‘small and playful’ smack on the shoulder.
One that was definitely meant to scare off Darkheart.
It had worked, even if it was only momentarily.
He didn’t think there’d be some other return anytime soon.