Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Torak tried not to tremble as Edon led him up the ramp of his ship. His hands were covered in blood, his entire body felt slick with it. It coated him like sweat, or at least he thought it did. Red and the dark bluish black of the Hive’s own blood, mingling on his skin as his light hid tucked away in his gut. He didn’t blame it for hiding. He wanted to. Perhaps that was why it was hiding, because it was him, a new expression of himself he was still getting used to. Still trying to understand.

He’d never been in a more savage battle, and even as a young guardian, that was saying something. Since the moment he’d been revived, he’d battled his way across Earth, fighting across continents and oceans as he worked to reach the last city. Many of the battles he’d endured had nearly left him depleted of his light, and more still had refused to leave him after he’d left them, the monsters returning to haunt him behind closed eyes. He’d believed few battles could be worse than the horrors he’d endured during his travels, or at least that he would not survive the battles that were. But this one…it had topped all of them, ten times over, even. He wasn’t sure the horrors he’d witnessed today would ever leave his mind, even while he was awake.

He’d been separated from Edon when the Hive had swarmed them. They’d driven him back into a dark cave. He’d hardly been able to see the space around him as Hive poured in through entrances he couldn’t detect. He’d fought until he died, and when his ghost had got him up, he fought again, and again and again. The lives blurred in his memory. All he could remember was death and pain and resurrection. Fighting until his body broke, then mended and broke again. He’d been low on light, too, screaming to Edon that he couldn’t survive another death. He’d been terrified, worse than that, even. If he died without the light for his ghost to revive him, it was over, he was over.

Edon had broken into the cave at the last possible second, a fury of fire as he annihilated the remaining Hive in the room, and lugged a nearly lightless Torak back to his ship. He couldn’t help it any longer. He did tremble. Edon didn’t seem to notice, helping him the rest of the way into the ship and easing him down to sit on the floor.

He tried not to wince as he leaned back against the wall, but he did when Edon began to pull at his armor, going as far as to gasp in pain before Edon released him hastily.

“Sorry.” He said, glancing up at Torak’s pinched expression. The other titan said nothing in response, but his face was pale as he reached to his belt and drew out a knife, handing it to Edon without a word. He knew most Titans didn’t keep knives, they were a Hunter’s tool and nothing more, but Torak cared very little for those judgments. He’d never turn away a weapon if it could prove useful to him, especially something as small and easy to carry as a knife.

Edon took it with a little frown, but carefully set it to the side of Torak’s armor, cutting around the heavy plate until he was able to carefully slide off the top section of his armor, his heavy gauntlets and pauldrons included. Once it was off, he moved quicker, seeing the amount of blood that soaked his undershirt, it was alarming to them both.

He tore away the rest of the under armor that covered Torak’s torso, until he was bare from the waist up. Edon’s ghost had already transmatted a large medical kit to rest beside him, and his hands moved in a flash, grabbing thick stacks of gauze and bandages and piling them onto his wounds, leaning forward to put pressure on them. Torak was still shaking when Edon lifted his chin with a quick hand.

“Don’t look at that.” He told him firmly, putting pressure on the worst wound—a deep slice across his abdomen—with one hand as he used the other to grab for a set of needles and stitches. “Look at me.” He told him, and Torak did, meeting his eyes for a second as he nodded to Edon.

His breath was coming in shaky bursts, tumbling out of him roughly as he tried to stay calm. Pain ravaged his body as he leaned back against a few of his wounds. He wasn’t strong enough to sit up on his own, he knew without having to try. When he met Edon’s eyes, he let out another trembling breath, pursing his lips as he tried to focus on something other than his intense pain.

Edon hardly held his gaze for more than a few seconds, but it was enough to knock the breath out of Torak, even in his pained state. Perhaps that was why it did, because of his pained state. He wasn’t sure how much blood he’d already lost. He hoped that was the reason.

The other titan’s eyes were wide and alert, the deep brown orbs trained on him just as Torak’s own were trained on his. His brows were crinkled with concern, his face pinched, focused, but Torak watched it shift, and even soften, if only for a brief moment before he dragged his gaze back down to Torak’s wounds.

He didn’t have long to think about the look, or to be astounded at the sheer amount of concern in the other man’s face. He’d never felt cared for like that. No one had ever been so concerned for him. He realized with a start that he’d never let anyone.

Something pierced his abdomen and Torak looked down quickly to realize Edon was already stitching his deep wound closed, pinching the skin together with one hand as his fingers worked quickly. Edon pushed his chin back up as he finished a stitch, forcing him to look up at the ceiling. Despite himself, Torak wanted to lean into his touch, but he shoved that desire deep into a pit within himself, locking it away.

He forced his breathing to remain steady, even shallow as Edon pressed a hand to his stomach to try to calm his rapid breaths. Edon’s hands were hot with his own blood. He tried not to think much about the fact, instead leaning his head back against the wall behind him.

Though Edon was quick, it took an agonizingly long time for him to stitch the wound closed. Once he had, he helped Torak off the wall and up to a chair at the table, where he stitched up the wounds on his back. There certainly were more of them than on his front, but most of them were shallow enough to not need stitches. Still, some of the thrall’s claws had cut deep, leaving long gashes on his lower back, dropping low enough that Edon dropped out of his own chair to sit on the floor while he’d stitched them up.

“Your leg is bleeding.” Edon observed once he’d finished with the gashes on his back. He’d risen from his seat on the floor, cleaning off his needle with a cotton ball soaked in rubbing alcohol. It was the third time he’d done so, the scent of the liquid shoving itself up Torak’s nose every time he’d wiped the bloody needle down.

Torak managed a breath, but only nodded, having been worrying about that very wound since the moment Edon had started taking off his armor. The wound was on his upper thigh, large and deep enough that it would have to be stitched, and he’d have to take off his leg armor to get to it. A foolish, fearful part of him had wished Edon wouldn’t see it, that he wouldn’t notice the growing stain of blood leaking around the gash in his armor. That part of him was overwhelming now, even as his eyes found the wound once more and the pain seemed to intensify at his own acknowledgement of the injury.

He clenched his hands into fists in an effort to keep them from shaking as Edon came around to the front of his chair and knelt down in front of him, the chair angled enough away from the table for him to comfortably knell in front of Torak. He watched his eyes flick up to him as he undid the clasps on his boots. He slid one off silently, looking down to the task at hand, then back up to Torak above him.

“Are you alright?” He asked him, noting the way his hands were still curled into fists. “Am I hurting you?” He asked, his hands working carefully on the clasps of his second boot.

“No- I-“ Torak shook his head quickly. “I’m fine.” He promised after a moment, drawing in another shaky breath as Edon drew off his second boot. His hands uncurled and went for his belt, shaking heavily.

“Torak.” Edon set his hand on his knee and Torak tensed, but didn’t look up from where he struggled with his belt, his bloody hands now slick with sweat. Edon quickly withdrew his hand. “Torak.” He said again when the Titan didn’t look up.

When he finally did, he saw Edon was looking at him, his face open and calm, but full of concern. Torak hoped he wouldn’t make him say anything, he wished he couldn’t tell he was nervous, but he knew he could anyways. He had never been nervous like this before. He’d never been protective or self-conscious of his body, but the idea of Edon taking off his pants made worry and dread fill his stomach. Not to mention how pathetic he felt along with it, given that taking off his pants and shirt was far from stripping naked for the man. Still, ever since he’d been revived, such fears had dwelled within him so deep Torak could never hope to explain it. In whatever past life he had lived, he knew he must have spent all of it avoiding these very feelings, avoiding any ounce of attraction towards the men around him. He had no idea why, and he knew the city was different. Whatever consequences he feared were far away from the life he lived now, but everything inside of him told him this was wrong. These feelings were wrong. He was wrong.

At the very least, his feelings opened him up to a vulnerability he wasn’t comfortable with. Worry wreathed in his gut so much he felt sick. He hoped Edon couldn’t see it all written across his face.

“Torak.” Edon said again, though the titan had already met his eyes. A long moment passed between them. Torak had to force himself to hold the other man’s gaze. “Just relax.” He told him at last. “It’s going to be okay.”

Torak held his gaze for a few moments more, then nodded, taking a slow, deep breath and nodding again. His hands were less shaky as he returned them to his belt, managing to undo it himself, though Edon did help him stand so he could slide the leg armor down, off of himself before he sat back down on his chair again, then slid the armor the rest of the way off his legs. He repeated the motion with his under armor, the layer tight against his wound, peeling away blood clots as he slid them off with a wince. He sat down again in only his briefs, and he hoped Edon couldn’t hear his heart pound as he gently nudged his legs open to get closer to the wound. The very motion felt like Torak was plunging his entire body into a lake of ice.

He couldn’t remember what had delivered the slash, but he guessed it had been a thrall, the gash cleaving down from his upper to mid-thigh, curling inwards as it went down his leg. Edon didn’t look up at him as he carefully cleaned the wound, though Torak winced and hissed in pain as he worked. He didn’t restrict him from looking, either, as he retrieved his needle and carefully and quickly stitched the wound closed. When he had finally finished and was carefully bandaging the wound, Torak shuddered at his touch as it shifted up his thighs. Edon moved more gently after his shudder, and Torak prayed the titan had only dismissed it as a pained reaction.

Finally, he finished bandaging the wound and slid back, away from Torak. He took up the male’s discarded leg armor, handing it back to him silently. Torak was grateful when he busied himself with cleaning up the medical supplies, letting him slide into the leg armor on his own, his under armor far too damaged and blood soaked for him to even bother with it. He was even more grateful when he stepped out of the room, and he was able to breathe a small sigh of relief at simply being alone for a moment, simply not being seen.

When Edon returned, he held a small tube of some sort of medical cream. When he noticed Torak’s gaze he showed it to him.

“It’s for your shoulder.” He explained simply.

His shoulder had been hit with a wizard’s blast, the orbs having left burned, pink flesh across the back of his shoulder, the wound curling up and over a bit towards his collar bone. Torak watched as Edon took up the seat he’d set behind him while he’d been stitching his back. He returned his gaze forward as he removed the cap of the tube, squeezing a generous amount of it onto his hand.

He had to bite back a groan when Edon’s hand rubbed gently over his wound. The cream was cool, spreading across the burn and seeping into his skin, cooling the angry red flesh. It felt incredible, and Edon’s gentle touch felt like a massage, even as his skin was going numb from the cream.

“Batter?” Edon asked. Torak hadn’t even realized he’d relaxed to lean back in his chair, his shoulders relaxing as they forgot their previous tension.

He hummed in response, finally breathing deeply as Edon rubbed his shoulder until the whole wound was numb. Once he had finished, Edon returned the cap to the tube, standing up and returning his chair to the table. He set the tube in front of Torak.

“You should probably keep that.” He told him.

“Thank you.” Torak responded. After a moment he looked back up to Edon. “For everything.” He added.

“Don’t worry about it.” The titan responded after another moment. Torak tried not to notice how his gaze lingered on him. Edon abruptly dragged his gaze away. “You should get some rest. Take my bed,” he nodded to his bed, tucked into a little pocket in the far wall that reminded Torak of a bed built into a cave wall. There were a set of drawers underneath the bed as well, and Edon pointed to them. “There’s spare clothes in there, too. Take whatever you’d like. And there’s washcloths under the sink in the bathroom if you want to wash up. I’ll fly us back to the Tower.”

Torak thanked him and watched him disappear into the cockpit before he stood from his chair and limped his way to the bathroom. Without Edon to support his weight, his legs ached, and his muscles in his thigh burned as he moved them. His ankle wasn’t too happy about his weight, either it seemed. Especially without his sturdy greaves to brace it. The bathroom wasn’t far, but by the time he’d made it he was panting, and he’d begun to tremble again, though this time it was due to his pain.

He found the cloths under the sink in the little bathroom, and he wet one and used it to mop up the blood covering him like a second skin. Some of it had crusted around his wounds. He had to rinse it out multiple times before he’d managed to wipe away most of it.

By the time he made it back to the bed, his legs felt ready to give out, but he managed to pull through Edon’s draws for a change of clothes, grabbing the first things he could, which ended up being a pair of dark sweatpants and a T-shirt. He slid into them with a bit of pain, though Edon had securely wrapped bandages around the worst of his injuries, which still held well. He’d known better to mess with them while he’d been cleaning up.

Finally, he dragged himself into Edon’s bed, just as he felt the ship lurch into warp speed, though he knew it would still take them over an hour to reach the Tower even at the high speed. It was a bit of a comfort, actually, knowing that he would have time to rest before he and Edon would be back at the Tower. The rest of their fireteam would probably be curious about what had happened. The thoughts left Torak’s mind as soon as his head hit Edon’s pillow.

Chapter Text

When Torak woke, Edon was standing over him, a hand on his shoulder. His wounded shoulder. He blinked his eyes open with a grimace, his face pinched with pain. Edon quickly realized and released him.

“Sorry.” He said, then looked away. “We’re here.” He told him, looking back. “I called Damian and Ikora when we were on the way, I told them what happened and they said they’d look into it. It’s not like the Hive to attack like that.”

Damian was their fireteam leader, a hero of the Red War and just about every other Guardian conflict Torak had ever been told about. In just about every conflict that had occurred within the past ten years, he and the rest of the team had made significant victories against their enemies, having brought down monsters he'd only ever been told about. Ghaul, Oryx, Crota. All of this included Edon, of course, the titan just as critical as any other member. Torak was still surprised he’d been pulled into the group at Damian’s own insistence, replacing their previous Titan leader who’d died defending the wall on the night Ghaul had attacked the city. The team had accepted him well enough, but after the way he’d been overrun by the hive today, he wasn’t sure they’d be keen to keep him around any longer.

“Do they want to see us?” Torak asked, sitting up with quite a bit of effort. He pushed the thoughts from his mind. Worrying about his position on the team wouldn’t get him anywhere. Unfortunately, as soon as he pushed one set of worries from his mind, another set crept in. He was still in Edon’s bed. Admittedly, it had been wonderful, and he really didn’t want to leave it, but his mind barked at him for the actions, worry and fear swelling up in his gut as his mind panicked. Unknown consequences seemed to be lurking behind every corner, hoping to take him down just as he was growing comfortable. It was an effort to keep his breathing steady.

“No.” Edon answered with a shake of his head. “I told them you got pretty beat up and that you should be resting. But I figured you might need help getting back to your apartment.”

Torak hummed in agreement. He was already leaning back heavily on the wall behind him, his weight shifted to lean back on his left, uninjured shoulder. He could hardly contemplate trying to stand, let alone walk all the way to his apartment, especially with his injured ankle. Edon was already one step ahead of him however, Torak’s discarded greaves in his hands. He set the boots down in in front of the bed, opening them up for him to slide his feet into. If they could brace his ankle the way they had when he’d broken it, the walk across the Tower to his apartment might just be manageable.

He pushed himself off the wall with a little grunt of effort, pulling back the blankets and shifting to set his legs down on the cool floors just behind the greaves. At the sight of his legs, he saw Edon bite his lip. His left ankle was swollen up to more than twice its size, unset and unbound. Neither of them had cared to deal with it earlier, since it hadn’t been anything life threatening. Torak didn’t exactly regret that decision, the sleep he’d been able to get wasn’t something he would have given up, but he had no doubt that this step in their plan was about to become a whole lot harder.

Still, he leaned down to pull the boot closer to him, grimacing at the pain it drew out from his torso, but managing to grab a hold of it and slide it next to his foot without making a sound. As soon as he’d lifted his left foot to slip it into the boot, Edon’s hands were there, bracing his injured ankle and foot, guiding his ankle to flex just enough to fit into the sturdy boot while Torak grit his teeth against the surge of pain the movement awoke. Edon guided him to push his heel down, slowly forcing his swollen ankle the rest of the way into the boot. The motion dragged a curse or two from his lips, but he managed and soon his foot was all the way inside the boot and Edon was tightening and adjusting the boot around the metal armor plates to secure it around his leg.

The right boot came on much easier than the first, and he was able to slip it on without Edon’s help, though the other titan did help him tighten it around his leg and foot. Once the greaves were on and secure, Edon stood and offered Torak his hands, his stance sturdy and ready to bear Torak’s weight, should he need to. At first, Torak dared try to stand on his own, setting his weight on his right foot and going as far as lifting his left foot to rest only the toe of the heavy, armored greaves on the ship’s floor. His legs burned at the exertion, but he managed to stand steadily. Slowly, he lowered his left foot back to rest on the floor, glancing briefly to Edon as he slid it forward just a bit, preparing to take a small step. The other titan quickly understood, backing up a step or two out of his way, though his hands were still raised and open, ready to assist him if he needed it.

He drew in a deep breath before shifting his weight, only to swear at the pain that flooded his leg in response. His ankle barked in protest, the bones bearing his weight in the wrong way entirely as he shifted. He scrambled to shift his right foot forward to catch his weight while his left leg buckled. Like all armor pieces he wore, his greaves were filled with all sorts of helpful technology, somehow still alive and well after the awful firefight he and Edon had been dragged through. He could feel the plates and supports reading the damage to his ankle as they shifted and adjusted to brace the injury, not that he allowed them time to really work. Edon didn’t either, the other titan already at his side, taking Torak’s left arm and throwing it over his shoulder where he held onto it with his own, his arm right moving to wrap around his waist.

“Well,” Edon murmured once they’d both stabilized themselves and Torak had leaned into Edon more than he cared to admit. “That didn’t go as well as I’d hoped.”

Despite himself, Torak snorted a little laugh, and he glanced to his left to see Edon wearing his own small smile. As much as his mind barked at him, and as much as some part of him wanted to fight it, he felt good tucked against the other titan’s side. Admittedly, Edon was lifting his weight off his injured ankle, which gave him no small amount of relief, but the man was also warm against his side, and sturdy. A reassuring presence if he’d ever felt one, despite all the pain he was in from his other injuries.

“I’ll be happy if we can even make it to my apartment.” He told Edon, looking away from him as soon as he realized he’d been staring. The other man’s small smile stayed though, and he nodded in response.

“If worse comes to worst, I can carry you.” Edon supplied, and Torak barked a laugh.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” He told the other Titan, “My dignity would never recover.” Edon only grinned at him in response.

The walk to Torak’s apartment was horrendous. They moved at a snail’s pace, even with Edon holding half his weight, his ankle still roared every time he tried to set weight on it, only the greaves making the walk somewhat manageable. Whatever adrenaline that had been keeping his pain at bay while he’d been fighting was long gone, and in its place was only horrendous, teeth grinding pain. Still, Edon was able to wave down a second titan while they’d been leaving the hangar, and the guardian had come to assist them. They must’ve been one of the Titans Edon oversaw, as they asked a multitude of worried questions as they held Torak’s other side. All of which, Edon dismissed with more or less half-answers, frequently interrupting the other titan’s pestering to point out upcoming terrain to Torak as they walked. It wasn’t as though Torak couldn’t see the staircases or ramps they limped down and up, but if the words cut off the other titan for even a second, he was happy to hear them.

By the time they made it to his apartment, Torak was sweaty and exhausted, and he hardly had the strength to unlock the door when they arrived. Edon however, was kind enough to continue assisting him as he yanked open the door and dismissed the other titan from Torak’s side, thanking him for his help but also closing the door immediately on him as soon as they were inside. He’d gone as far as to cut off the titan’s last words. If he hadn’t been so exhausted, he would have laughed.

He didn’t though as Edon returned to him and helped him hobble the last few paces to his bedroom. The other Titan guided him into the little room and deposited him on the bed with enough gentleness that it actually surprised him—as if Edon’s gentleness and kindness hadn’t been surprising enough thus far. Torak had always known Edon was kind, someone caring and reliable, but to have all of that focused solely on him…it was breathtaking at the very least. He hoped the other titan couldn’t see it written all over his face.

Edon was already moving on, however, and he crouched down in front of Torak and set to removing his greaves while he sat still trying to catch his breath from where he was half laying on the bed. He watched the other titan as he worked, reaching down to assist when he fiddled with the clasps and locks that refused to release Torak’s foot from the boot. It took some convincing, but the greaves finally loosened and Edon opened them up as much as he could, holding them still while Torak drew out his swollen ankle. It certainly hurt less to slip out of the greaves than it had to force his ankle in, and the swelling had even gone down from the pressure the greaves had been applying to the swollen joint. His second boot came off quickly, and soon enough Edon was seated on the floor below him, leaning back on his hands as he studied the injury.

“I don’t really know anything about broken bones.” He confessed, glancing up at Torak. Just as he spoke, his ghost appeared beside him, the machine flying to inspect the injury itself. Edon watched the little machine as it moved, grabbing a little piece of its shell between a finger and thumb just before it could throw its shell wide to scan his ankle.

“Ask.” Edon reminded his Ghost in a quiet voice, and given the look the Ghost sheepishly returned, they’d had a conversation about such things before. Still, Torak stayed quiet as the Ghost nodded to Edon, then turned to look at Torak, flitting up enough that he didn’t have to lean down to see it.

“May I-“ The Ghost broke off, likely unsure of how to word the question, but Torak nodded anyways.

“Go ahead.” He told the Ghost, shifting his leg a little further out to give the Ghost a better angle. It nodded in return, drifting back down to his leg and setting to scanning the injury before it.

Both Titans were quiet as the Ghost worked, Edon observing while Torak did his best to stay still while the Ghost scanned the injuries. He’d never really met Edon’s Ghost before. He wasn’t sure this counted as a proper meeting either, given that he didn’t even know the Ghost’s name. He did know that the Ghost had met his own, Edrei. So far, she was still offline, his lack of light having forced her to shut down. He knew from Damian that Ghosts processed losing light in different ways. Some had gone offline for weeks after the traveler was caged, but he wasn’t lightless permanently, all he’d done was expended his powers. If he stayed close to the traveler, Edrei would wake up in due time, and his injuries would have to wait until she did.

The Ghost finished quickly, and a data tablet formed in the air just a few inches above Edon’s hands. He caught it easily—the link between guardian and ghost was close enough for such things like the transferring of items to be second nature to them—and peered down at it as the Ghost spoke.

“I’m afraid it’s more than broken.” The Ghost confessed, looked to Torak. “The whole ankle is nearly shattered. If I were trying to heal it I’d dissolve the bone fragments and regrow the whole structure.” Edon leaned up, handing the tablet to him as the Ghost spoke.

Just as the Ghost had described, the injury was displayed before him in a sort of x-ray, his ankle—or what was left of it—depicted from a side view. The knob and surrounding bones that made up his ankle were in a number of pieces, all somehow still within the general area of where they should be, but certainly not in the right formation. He peered down at the tablet, recalling only vaguely how to use the device, struggling to remember what Damian had taught him about such technologies. He slid his finger across the screen, the smooth surface advancing as though his finger had found purchase upon it and he was able to drag the image away, replacing it with another image of his ankle, this time from a different angle.

“What should we do for the time being?” Edon asked his Ghost, raising a palm. The Ghost floated back to it with little thought, hovering over his Guardian’s hand even as he faced Torak, looking at the injury again.

The Ghost recommended they secure it so that Torak would not be able to move it until his own Ghost awoke. Thankfully, instead of locking his greaves around it, they created a sort of makeshift splint using a bandage wrap and a set of thin metal rods. It certainly wouldn’t hold up to much, but it was enough for Torak as exhaustion was returning back in full force. Edon seemed to notice, rising to his feet and looking him over.

“You going to be alright?” The titan asked him, crossing his arms lightly over his armored chest as Torak dragged himself back towards the pillows at the head of his bed.

Torak only nodded. It was the best he could do as he yawned, a hand raising weakly to cover his mouth. A habit he’d had since he’d been revived. It confused him just as much as the other things he’d brought with him had, but he was too tired to consider them now.

“Alright, listen,” Edon was saying, and Torak lifted his head to look at him as he took a step closer, an orange bottle in his hand. Torak hadn’t seen him pick it up, but with his Ghost, he wasn’t surprised. “These are painkillers from my last…” He trailed off, then shook his head, “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. The point is you should probably take one now, and then another when you wake up.”

He moved to hand the bottle over, and Torak lifted his hand to accept them only for Edon to pull away quickly.

“These are really strong.” He warned, “Don’t take more than one at once, especially since your Ghost isn’t awake. I’ll be back to check up on you in the morning.”

He handed the bottle over, and watched as Torak fumbled to open the cap, his tired fingers fumbling a few times before he managed and drew out a single pill. He stared at it in his palm for a little too long before remembering what he was doing and moving to pop it into his mouth, accepting a little glass of water from Edon’s outstretched hand.

By the time he’d swallowed it down and set the water on the little bedside table beside him, Edon was still standing beside him. The titan seemed to realize at the same time, stifling a little cough into his hand before turning towards the door.

“Thank you.” Torak blurted quickly, just as Edon had stepped towards the door. He watched the other man pause. “For saving me and for everything else.” He added, “I don’t know where I’d be without you.”

He watched Edon shift, still standing in the doorway, he could see him bite his lip as he glanced back towards Torak.

“Unfortunately for me, I think that without me you wouldn’t have been getting your ass kicked in the first place.” Edon told him, half turning to face him again. Torak managed a tired laugh, and Edon only gave a weak smile. “But you’re welcome.” He continued, looking somber now. “I’m sorry everything got so out of hand.” Real guilt flashed across the titan’s face, but Edon quickly looked away, gripping the open door in a hand.

“Sleep well.” He told him, again only half-looking at him. “I’ll be back in the morning.”

Without another word, he slipped from the room, then the apartment, shutting both doors behind him as he went. Torak hardly heard the second door shut, already easing himself beneath his blankets and flicking out the lights. Exhaustion overtook him as soon as his head hit the pillow below him.

Torak’s mind opened to screams. Shouts and cries of pain reverberating against cave walls. Human, but accompanied with something utterly foreign. Completely alien. He recognized the shrieks of Wizards, the roar of Knights and the screams of cursed thrall. Scrapes and shots filled the gaps between the noise, the sounds of acolyte guns firing straight towards him, of thrall tearing their way across the space to rake their claws through his skin. All of the sounds melded together, assaulting his ears in such an overpowering sensation that he could hardly place what was where. Whether the thrall were on top of him or yards away, he hadn’t the slightest idea. Even the Wizard seemed to be at the same time breathing down his neck, and paces off, firing at him from a distance.

It took him a long time to realize he was still connected to more than one sense. Smell was the second thing that came to his attention, the scent of blood so overwhelming it was like he was swimming in it. Drowning in it. Touch was the third, the feeling of the blood grappling at him just a moment later. He could feel it slipping down his throat, pouring from his nose, from his eyes, even. It flooded his sinuses before it found his throat and choked him, causing him to double over onto his hands and knees.

Claws met his back, and his own screams shattered through the song of the Hive around him, piercing through its overpowering presence as if he could hope to compete with it in some way. More claws raked down on him, as if a second group had come. They tore through his armor, as if the plates that covered his back were for nothing, melting away under the thrall’s touch like they were made of little more than water, and not the solid metal that could stop bullets better than a rock wall.

Then he could move, really move. The feeling of the ground under his palms met him just as the thrall’s claws did, and he shoved against it, pushing himself up, enough for him to use his legs and stand, stumbling forward, away from the thrall at his back. He made it all of two steps before something slammed into his right side and he was flying, only to collide with the cave wall an instant later.

The crack that met him reverberated through his entire body, sending tremors along every nerve as pain raged through him like an electric wave. He didn’t know up from down, left from right. His head was spinning and perhaps broken, and the feeling of the ground below him had faded back into nothingness. He knew he wasn’t falling, but what was still holding him up was far beyond him. He wanted to raise his arms to shield himself, but he had no idea if he had even moved them. The only thing he could feel was the pain still shocking him, overwhelming his nerves so intensely it was like he was burning from the inside out.

He reached out to his light, pulling from the well that his power rested in deep within his gut. Only there was nothing to draw from it. Whatever well he’d grown used to pulling from was empty now, only drops of water clinging to its sides. Not enough to use, not enough to protect him. Slowly, feeling began to return to him as hopelessness crashed down upon. The Knight’s roars were closer now, but as he felt along the ground around him, his hands only met firm stone, the floor rough and ragged, but all intact. No loose stones, no stalagmites or rock formations he might be able to break and use as a weapon. He had nothing. There wasn’t even a knife at his belt, or a sword at his hip.

Panic threatened to drown him, as suffocating as the blood that still seemed to clog his throat, his mouth, his nose. His eyes. He realized with a start, raising his empty hands to his face, to wipe away the blood covering his face, blinking as tears fought to clear what his hands could not. Still, he saw nothing, only darkness meeting him, as if his brain could not even begin to process another sense with the others so ravaged. But he didn’t give up, and suddenly light blurred across his vision.

It was only there for a moment, a quick streak across him as a boomer knight fired its gun, their large projectile slamming itself into the stone somewhere to Torak’s left. He could only see the orb under the blur of so much red, but he could see. The quick burst of light was enough to place the knight somewhere ahead of him, forward and to his right, advancing quickly. He scrambled to shove himself to his feet before it could reach him, but his whole body buckled against the pain he ignited as he tried to move.

Where he thought his groan of pain should have been, a knight roared just to his left. Closer, not the one that had fired at him. He heard the telltale song of a blade in the air, so quick he could only brace for the impact before the world exploded into light.

Roaring, burning light filled the cavern, cleaving the darkness in two. A hammer shot towards him, embedding itself into the Knight just beside him, surrounding it in flames so bright they nearly blinded him. Torak flinched back, more hammers following the first. The whole cavern was lit up by them, an all-out assault on the hive around him. The screams shifted from rage to fear and pain, finally mirroring Torak’s own.

A group of thrall exploded into chitin, bones flying like shrapnel from an explosive as they blew apart. Another hammer cleaved straight through a wizard, leaving its body a burning torrent of flame even as the hammer plowed on into the wall. The acolytes charged, only to be destroyed one after the other, the knights just behind. The Titan didn’t pause once they’d purged the room of the Hive, another hammer ready in their hands as they turned to face him, their arm raising as if in slow motion. Torak watched the weapon leave the Titan’s hand, but he couldn’t move fast enough to dodge the attack.

Torak awoke gasping, clawing his way free from bed sheets wrapped tightly around his body. Pain roared through his entire being but he didn’t stop, throwing himself upright and kicking his way from the bed, shoving everything away from him as he scrambled to his feet, only to let out a mangled cry and collapse to the ground.

Moonlight met him, filtering through the half closed blinds, washing over him as it urged his panic away, as it illuminated his empty bedroom, clearly and utterly safe, even from where he lay on the floor. He let out his breath with a soft sigh, letting his head fall back down to rest on the floor below him, his injured shoulder digging painfully into the carpeted floor. It was enough to ground him, to calm him enough that he let himself roll onto his back and lay still for a long moment, his gaze drifting over the dark ceiling above him. He checked each corner. Empty. No monsters waiting to pounce, no creatures hiding in the darkness, no flame wielding titan ready to destroy him.

His gut twisted a bit at the last thought. Edon… the titan had been Edon. But Edon had saved him from the Hive ambush, he’d broken into the cave to save him. To protect him, to rescue him, and yet in his dream… Even his unconscious mind was afraid of the man. Torak let out a deep breath, a hand rubbing over his face. Unsurprisingly, the only layer that covered it was sweat. No blood flowing from his eyes, or his nose, or his mouth. And when he opened his eyes again, his vision was clear. There was no red haze, nothing to obscure his vision of the empty bedroom.

He lay on the floor until his heart had stopped pounding in his chest, until he’d pushed the other titan from his mind so many times it was impossible not to think about him. Only then did he sit up, and only then did he drag all his weight upwards, onto his knees, then onto his left knee as he lifted his right leg to stand. He had to use the windowsill to haul himself upward, and then relied on the wall as he limped along the edge of the room, never daring to put weight onto his left leg as he hobbled forward.

It took him an achingly long time to make it out of the room, and longer still to make it to the little breakfast bar that sat in front of his kitchen, connected to the counter below. Here, he eased himself into one of the tall bar stool, shivering as his sweat had begun to cool against his skin. He always kept the apartment cold at night. If he didn’t open up the windows to let in the cold air from outside, the air conditioner would kick on and adjust the temperature itself. It was doing so now, cool air flowing into the room from a vent on the ceiling above him.

He wrapped his arms around himself. He hadn’t brought anything with him, no blankets or extra layers, and nothing was within reach. He could see the thermostat in the entryway to the apartment, it’s light watching him as he watched it. He didn’t have the energy to stand to turn it off, but he wasn’t about to sleep, either. Instead, he drew in a deep breath, setting his arms down on the counter and leaning into them. He out let his breath as he settled himself in his position, hunched over the counter as he sat, content to wait out the night alone.

Chapter Text

There was no answer when Edon knocked on the other titan’s door the next morning. He certainly hadn’t expected one, doubting the other would wake up for another few hours, having only returned back to the Tower mere hours ago. He’d waited until eight to return to Torak’s apartment. So far, he hadn’t received any word that the man’s Ghost had woken up, not that he really expected that either. Ghosts were sensitive to the light, especially when their Guardians possessed it in only small quantities. Being drained of light effected them poorly, some might even say worse than losing it all entirely, worse than when they’d all been severed from the Traveler at the start of the Red War.

            He wasn’t surprised about the silence behind the door, it was just as he expected it, after all. What he was surprised about however, was the soft click that sounded a moment later, just as his hand had been reaching for the knob to test the lock. Just before his fingers had brushed the knob, the lock had slid free, the automated systems controlling the apartment security responding to his very presence. The noise made him pause, as did the little green light that flashed just above the knob, indicating that the door was unlocked, but not indefinitely. It would lock again in a moment, which meant the apartment wasn’t responding to his presence. Someone was letting him inside.

            His hand grabbed the knob and twisted just enough to engage the mechanism, just enough for the flashing to stop as he reached out with his mind to the tether that lay between his Ghost’s consciousness and his own. Mind to mind, he fired off a quick request, and the Ghost replied without words, it’s own mind shifting to comply without any hesitation. Request heard, he dropped the tether, drawing in a deep breath and twisting the knob the last bit of the way, unlatching the door and easing it open slowly.

            What met his eyes certainly wasn’t what he was expecting.

            Torak sat at the breakfast bar just a bit beyond the entryway, only partially in Edon’s line of sight as he eased his way into the apartment. With the kitchen ahead of him and to his left, the other Titan was a good distance away as he eased the door shut behind him without a word. Carefully, he took a step forward, moving to his left to get a better look at the other man.

            There was a data tablet in his hands, but neither paid it any attention as Edon moved towards him. Torak was dressed the same way he’d been when Edon had left him, dark sweat pants and a loose white t-shirt that was just a bit baggy on his frame. Bandages peeked out from under the collar, a set wrapped around his shoulder, along with those he could see on his bare arms. Both his hands were still lightly wrapped from the bandages he’d wrapped around the man’s split knuckles, and the nicks and bruises were still present, marring his arms, his face, his neck. The rest of his body was blocked from Edon’s view by the counter that he sat behind, but even if he could see it he doubted he would’ve cared. What caught his attention wasn’t the man’s wounds, but rather his eyes, unblinking, cold eyes.

            The deep brown orbs were surrounded by red, the whites bloodshot as Torak watched him. Below them, the eye sockets were dark, so dark he would’ve mistaken them for black eyes if he hadn’t seen the man only hours earlier. Had he really been awake long enough for them to develop? Or were they truly black eyes, the bruises only now visible? He had no idea, and he certainly wasn’t about to ask, so transfixed in staring at the man it was like he was in a trance. His mind was practically blank, even if he’d wanted to speak words, he doubted he’d even be able to form them on his lips.

            He had no idea how long he stared, the silence stretching between them, broken only by Edon’s breaths, which felt entirely too ragged, and the pound of his heart in his ears, entirely too loud. He had no idea how much longer he would have stared when a presence tugged on the edge of his consciousness, so sudden and startling he flinched, jerking his gaze away from Torak’s sharply.

            “Damian didn’t open it.” His Ghost replied into his mind. Edon had forgotten entirely what he’d asked of him only moments ago.

            “Open what?” He replied through their tether, his gaze sliding up from the floor to the counter in front of Torak, to his hands. He’d let go of the data tablet, his bandaged hands now gripping his elbows tightly.

            “The door.” His Ghost reminded, and recognition finally returned to him. He’d planned on asking their fireteam leader to open Torak’s door for him, the other titan having given Damian access to his apartment’s system a while back, for emergency’s sake. When the door had opened for him, Damian had been the only one he could think of who could’ve opened it for him. “Torak must’ve opened it from inside.” His Ghost continued, “Edri is still offline.”

            Edri was Torak’s Ghost, a chipper, energetic little thing, very different from her Guardian. She’d introduced herself to Edon more than once, and often liked to bob around Torak whenever she pleased. She wasn’t reckless, but Edon could tell she was certainly more social than her counterpart, and had to find ways to interact with more than just her Guardian. He knew her fairly well as a result, the Ghost had been excited to speak with him when they’d met, and didn’t shy away from speaking to him while he and Torak were on missions. Overall, Edon quite liked her, and he knew his own Ghost did too. Remembering that she was offline sent a bit of guilt into his stomach.

            Still, he pushed the Ghosts from his mind, one figuratively, and the other a bit more literally as he thanked him for the information. Even with his focus regained, it was an effort to bring his eyes back up to Torak’s once more, finding the other Titan’s face had shifted into something a bit more thoughtful. Inspecting even, inspecting him.

            “Did you sleep?” He asked quickly, before he could allow Torak’s gaze to drive the words from his brain.

            He blinked, and Edon watched the grip on his elbows loosen as he shifted in his seat, his face pinching in pain at the movements. Perhaps he’d been caught in a sort of daze as well, Edon’s words only now drawing him out of it.

            “A little.” He said after he’s situated himself. His voice was deeper than usual, husky from lack of use over the long hours. It was enough to send a chill down Edon’s spine and a flush to his cheeks, forcing him to quickly look away as he meandered the rest of the way into the kitchen, finding his way to the counter below the little bar Torak sat at.

            “I think I woke up an hour or so after you left.” He continued, and Edon nodded to show he was listening, even as he set his arms on the counter and stared down at them. “After that I couldn’t fall back asleep.”

            “Nightmares?” Edon dared ask, raising his eyes to glance up at Torak. As soon as he voiced the word, he regretted it, Torak’s guard snapping up as soon as the word had left his lips. It was like a wall slammed between them, but it was Torak who looked away this time.

            “Something like that.” He said, his tone measured enough that he wasn’t about to offer anything more. Edon could respect that, though his mind didn’t, wondering if he’d dreamed of their fight the day before, just as he had. It was what had driven him from his bed early that morning, with hardly three hours of sleep he’d donned his armor and headed to the wall, even after he’d called in for the day off after he’d left Torak’s apartment.

            Still, he’d checked in on his sector, asking his Titans for their usual basic reports before he’d checked in with Commander Zavala. The man hadn’t been happy to see him, and Edon had realized fairly quickly that the man had been informed of their little run in from the night before and was none too happy to be seeing him not taking the day off. He gone as far as to order him off the front for the day, to which Edon hadn’t been sure how to react, but had decided there wasn’t a better time for him to head over to Torak’s apartment.

            “Did you eat yet?” Edon asked, changing the subject as he lifted his head to look at Torak more properly. The titan shook his head, and Edon glanced to the stove behind him. “May I?” Torak gave only an accepting shrug.

            Before finding out Torak was awake, his original plan had been to make him breakfast before he woke up, so that when he did Edon would be able to make sure he ate enough and could check his injuries and rewrap his bandages. It was the least he could do after getting him into the mess in the first place, and taking care of Torak until Edri came back online was the least he could do for her as well, given he was the reason she was currently out of commission like her Guardian.

            Thankfully, it seemed his plan wasn’t for naught, and he turned to pull through Torak’s kitchen, finding a skillet in a cabinet and a spatula in a drawer, along with couple plates and cups tucked into another cabinet, and a drawer full of a few mismatched utensils. As he looked around, he drew out the first cup he saw, filling it with water and setting it on the breakfast bar just in front of Torak, his eyes shooting him a silent order. He didn’t miss the little scoff the other titan made as he accepted the water, but he didn’t respond either, only doing his best to suppress his rising smile.

            Various foods appeared on the counter in front of him, and he watched Torak peer down at them from the bar as he washed his hands in the sink, checking that his Ghost hadn’t missed anything. Eggs in their carton, cheese, bacon, butter, and a few little containers of various fruits. He watched Torak frown down at the items, looking at each one before raising his eyes.

            “Do you need…flour?” He asked, his brows furrowed. “What are you making?”

            “An omelette.” Edon answered, drying his hands as he moved over to take a cutting board from where Torak had a stack resting atop his refrigerator. The titan’s expression didn’t change, and he froze. “Have you never had an omelette before?”

            The other man looked at him like he’d spoken the words out of his nose, his head tilted to the side as he fixed him with a questioning look.

            “Is that even a real word?” He asked, and Edon had to fight a laugh.

            “Of course it is!” He promised, grabbing a knife from another drawer and setting them down on the counter before taking a bit of butter from the stick and turning back to the stove. “Okay, you’re pretty new at this whole thing so I’m going to let that slide.” He told the other man, realizing that this whole thing was less of making breakfast and more about life in general. He had to bite his lip as the thought came over him in a flash, covering up the movement as he dragged his butter knife along the edge of the skillet set over the stove, dropping the butter onto the hot metal, his back to Torak.

            Despite their ambush the day before, Torak was an excellent fighter, even better than some of the veterans he’d worked with. With that in mind, and the man’s overall level-headed demeanor, it was easy to forget Torak had only been a guardian for a matter of months. He’d hardly been around for the Warmind conflict on Mars, and the situation on the Tangled Shore was something utterly foreign to the man. It was why they’d been there the day before, to acclimate him to the greater threats before they followed the rest of their group into the fight against Uldren Sov and the scorned barons. Currently, one of their fireteam members was there now, tracking down the barons and taking them down one by one as she fought to avenge Cayde-6. For the Vanguard’s sake, the rest of their team had stayed out of it, but the minute she asked for their help, they’d be at her side, which was why they had to be ready. They’d established a long time ago that nothing came before their fireteam, not even the Vanguard.

            He stole a glance at Torak once more, grabbing the carton of eggs in a quick movement. He cracked three into the skillet before throwing away the shells and washing his hands in the sink again.

            “So,” Torak said after a moment, and Edon rose his head to glance over again. “Where did you learn to tend to injuries like that?” The other man asked him, “I didn’t think that was usually something Guadians needed to know.”

            Edon had to take a moment before answering, setting a few pieces of bacon on the stove in a second skillet.

            “Zavala has me in charge of the one of the Southeastern sectors of the wall.” He told Torak, which he was sure the Titan already knew. “Most of the time we have city militia that help us keep watch on the wall and help us patrol the border past it. It’s been that way even before the Red War, but afterwards we changed our ratio a bit more, took a bit more help from non-Guaridans.” He explained, turning back to face the other titan. “When Zavala offered me the position a few years ago, I knew I’d be leading city militia, so I took a few classes on first aid and basic skills like that. I learned what to do when people got shot or stabbed and I practiced on Guardians to make sure I could do everything right.

            “Once I took the position, I made all of my officers take the same classes. Under my watch, there wasn’t a single death within my sector of the wall until the night the city fell.” His voice grew somber, he wasn’t boasting, not in any way. He’d had to tend to men and women screaming from their wounds, people that didn’t have the privilege of Ghosts to heal them up like magic. It was necessity, it wasn’t something to boast about. It was decency, not a favor he’d done for them.

            “Once the Red War started, I needed those skills a lot more.” He told Torak, “but by them, I found I wasn’t always able to save the lives of my people.” Their previous fireteam leader flashed though his mind, Balendin, an Awoken man who had been a leader Edon could only dream to live up to. He’d saved Edon’s life on the night the Red Legion had attacked. Edon hadn’t been able to save his in return, despite everything he’d learned. He was pretty sure he’d carry that guilt with him forever.

            He swallowed hard, controlling the burst of emotion that hit him so hard it hurt as he turned back to the stove, busying himself with things he didn’t need to do, flipping the bacon or lifting at the edges of the eggs with his spatula. Anything to keep himself from having to turn around again.

            “Damian told me about him.” Torak replied quietly, and Edon tensed. “About Balendin.”

            It took everything in his power not to look back, and to force himself to ease the tension from his shoulders as he kept his head down.

            “I know that you tried save him, and I know that I’m his replacement. I don’t think you hate me for it, but I wouldn’t blame you if you did.” Torak continued, and Edon’s head lifted at his words, even as he went on to continue speaking.

            “Why not?” He couldn’t keep himself from turning, only half facing the stove as he moved to look at Torak. He’d interrupted whatever words he’d been about to say, but he couldn’t bring himself to even think they mattered, focusing instead on what Torak had just said. “Why wouldn’t you blame me?”

            He watched heat find the other man’s cheeks, and his hands tightened their grip on his elbows, still holding the protective position as his gaze flicked away from Edon’s.

            “Because I’m different.” Torak managed, “Because I’m here and he’s not, because—“

            Edon held up a hand to silence him, but spoke before he’d even finished, interrupting him all the same.

            “I’m not like that.” He told him, to which Torak only stared.

            “Everyone is like that.” Torak answered, and Edon’s brows rose in surprise. “I mean, you must be. It’s human nature, you lost him and you gained me. I’m not—“

            “You think he’s better than you?” Edon questioned, some logical part of him reminding his hand to reach out and adjust the heat on the eggs. It must’ve been his Ghost, his mind was moving too quickly for such thoughts.

            Torak however, had gone still, like a deer in headlights he only stared, his mouth opening once, then twice before he snapped it shut without a word. Edon closed his as well, forcing himself not to speak, not to give anything more until Torak answered.

            “I know you miss him.” Torak answered finally, his voice softer than Edon had ever heard it. “I know the rest of the team does, too.”

            Edon leveled him with a hard look. “I miss the times before I had to supervise open gates and worry about how many more civilian are allowed in the tower and on the walls.” He told Torak. “It doesn’t mean that it was better when we didn’t have them here, I’m glad they’re here, and I wouldn’t change it for anything in the world. But sometimes, I miss the old times.”

           The example wasn't perfect, and it hurt him to compare such a great man to a time of ignorance and closed mindedness, but it was the best thing he could think of. Balendin would have worked to reassure Torak, too, even if he would've had a better example.  

            Torak clenched his jaw, his head shaking from side to side. “He was better than me. I know that. Damian doesn’t want to lead in his place and neither do you, and at the same time no one wants to deal with an inexperienced member on their team.” He told him, and Edon opened his mouth to interrupt but it was Torak who fixed him with a look this time. “I know you’re too nice to say it but after what I put you through yesterday, I doubt you’ll want to take me on another mission ever again.”

            ”I put you through that yesterday.” He protested, “That was my failure, not yours.”

            Something tugged on his consciousness again and he recognized his Ghost’s grip, dragging his attention back to the eggs and bacon on the stove. He turned with a hardly suppressed scowl, snatching up his spatula and flipping the bacon and checking the omlette in a few quick motions.

            “I should have gotten to you sooner, it was my responsibility to protect you yesterday and I messed up.” He told Torak.

            “I don’t need your protection.” The other titan snapped, so harshly Edon turned. He didn’t voice the fact that the evidence would certainly suggest otherwise, but he could tell from the heat in Torak’s cheeks that he was thinking the same. “I don’t want your protection.” He amended, his gaze down at the counter. “This isn’t the wall, I don’t want to be another one of your city militia that you have to look after and take care of.”

            “I’ve been doing this a lot longer than you have.” Edon reminded, making an effort to take a deep breath before he spoke. He turned back to the counter and to Torak behind it, pausing in his reach for the cheese he’d set on the counter. Instead, he raised his hand to Torak’s arm, gripping it gently. “That Hive ambush came out of nowhere yesterday.” He told Torak, his voice softer now. “That isn’t normal for them. No one would blame you for being overrun.”

            Torak said nothing, his gaze lowering to stare at Edon’s hand, still holding his arm. He reluctantly let go, returning his focus to his cooking as he sliced a few thin pieces of cheese off the block.

            “They were targeting you.” He told him, only after he’d turned back to the stove. He laid the cheese atop one side of the omelette, letting it start to melt as he took the bacon from the other skillet and set it on the cutting board.

            “I don’t know if you noticed,” He continued, his eyes down as he sliced the meat into thin pieces. “Once they separated us it was like they forgot about me. I got pushed to the back of the group while they herded you into that cave.” He recounted, raising his eyes at Torak’s silence. The man’s face was unreadable, and Edon sighed softly.

            “I’ve never seen them do anything like that before.” He murmured. “Even years ago, when we were fighting Oryx, they never seemed so…focused.”

            “Maybe they noticed I couldn’t fight as well.” Torak suggested quietly. Edon shook his head.

            “Then why put so much effort into killing you?” He returned. His mind was almost entirely back on the battle, while his Ghost remained near to him, reminding him to bring the bacon back to the omelette and fold it inside with the melting cheese. His Ghost didn’t offer any insight about the battle, not that he had asked. They’d discussed it at length the night before, on the flight back to the Tower.

            Whatever the reason, they were going to go back. They had to figure out why, they had to understand why such an attack would occur, especially after the Baron that controlled that area of the shore had only just died. How could such an organized attack come so quickly after such a loss in leadership?

            “They left me wide open, but I could still hardly make a dent in them for the longest time.” His voice was quiet now, his head down as he worked, eyes drifting as his hands moved steadily. The fight had lasted hours. Hours where he battled the onslaught from the rear, fighting to get to Torak from where they’d trapped him in that cave. He’d tried calling Guardians on the shore, bringing in the rest of his team, he’d even contacted the Spider while he’d fought but nothing had worked. Not until he’d thrown everything he had into burning his way into the cave and smoking the Hive out from within. Only then had he made it to Torak and been able to get him out.

            When he found Torak’s eyes again the other man looked stunned.

            “They didn’t fight you?” He asked, his brows drawing together tightly. Edon couldn’t keep his eyes from running over the expression. He almost wanted to reach out and smooth away the little wrinkle it created between his brows. He only shook his head in response, not trusting himself to speak as he reminded himself to keep his hands focused on what he was doing.

            “Not at all?” Torak pressed, and Edon shook his head.

            “They only fought me when I was in their way.” He explained, “If I put myself between you and them, then they fought to get me out of the way.”

            Torak only frowned, the expression lingering on his face even when Edon grabbed a plate and took the warm omelette from the stove, topping it off with a few shreds of bacon and cheese before grabbing a fork from the drawer of utensils and setting it before Torak.

            “Eat.” He told him simply. “Did you take a second painkiller?” Torak only shook his head, and Edon moved slipped past him, heading towards the man’s bedroom.

            Inside, he found Torak’s blankets were a mess, as if he’d rolled from his bed sometime in the night and left the room altogether. He knew it wasn’t his place to comment, of course, and instead found his way to the bedside table where the bottle of pills still sat. As soon as it was in his hand he was ducking out of the room, pulling the door half shut behind him.

            When he returned, Torak was holding his fork in a bandaged hand, inspecting the omelette with the intensity of someone inspecting their food for poison, and Edon rolled his eyes as he set the bottle of pills on the bar beside Torak and returned to the kitchen.

            “You saw me make it.” He told the other titan, “I didn’t do anything to it.”

            Torak only gave a little half nod, not raising his head as he pointed his fork at the top of the omelette.

            “This is…”

            “Bacon.” Edon finished for him, and Torak nodded again.

            “Right.” He murmured, “And this…?” His fork brushing the bits of melted cheese that had dripped off the side of the omelette.

            “It’s cheddar cheese.” He told the other man, finally taking the containers of fruit his Ghost had set on the counter. “Seriously, what do you normally eat?” He knew Torak was a kinderguardian, but he couldn’t imagine him not knowing the ingredients of such a simple breakfast.

            He watched the titan’s face pinch in consideration, and he had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing. He couldn’t possibly be serious.

            But there was no joking in Torak’s tone when he finally answered, “Toast.” His face serious as he looked back to Edon, “And pancakes, sometimes. Edrei taught me how to make them.”

            “You’ve never eaten eggs?” He questioned, to which Torak only shrugged.

            “When I was traveling to the city I would sometimes eat eggs.” He answered, and Edon frowned. What was so confusing about an omelette, then? “I just never had anything to cook them in.”

            Edon couldn’t stop the grimace that took over his features as he looked back to the man, his hands going still from where he’d been pulling blueberries from one of the containers. During the Red War, they’d improvised pots out of broken helmets, cooked food over coals on ruined armor and chest plates. He’d even seen a few titans frying eggs in old codpieces—not that he’d ever gone that far, of course. He shoved the thoughts from his mind with a shake of his head.

            “Whatever,” He said, “Eat the omelette, I’m sure you’ll like it better than raw eggs.” He couldn’t keep the judgment from his tone, but he couldn’t fight the little smile on his lips, either.

            Torak did eventually eat the omelette, and all the fruit that Edon piled onto a plate for him as well, clearly much more familiar with them as he didn’t inspect any of them before eating them. He’d only just finished eating, Edon still washing the dishes when his Ghost appeared in the air beside the sink, bearing an urgent message from Damian. There'd been a new development on the Tangled Shore. The whole fireteam was to meet as soon as possible.

Chapter Text

Twenty minutes later they were in one of the Vanguard war rooms. Thankfully, they’d found a pair of crutches for Torak, and Edon had given him another dose of painkillers, allowing the walk over to be heavenly compared to their trek across the Tower the night before. With them, the somewhat rotating ranks of their fireteam and close friends had gathered, minus Tessa, the hunter still out on the Tangled Shore tracking down the barons. Along with the team were the Vanguard leaders, Ikora Rey and Commander Zavala, both of whom Torak was quite familiar with, even given his short time in the Tower.

            Apart from him and Edon, their fireteam was built around a central group of six people. Tessa, being away on the Tangled Shore, meant that there were five additional members. Of those five, there was Damian, the current leader of the fireteam and a human warlock, currently serving under Ikora as a member of the Hidden. The second warlock of the team was his best friend, an Exo named Estella-3, whom Torak had learned very quickly was perhaps the reason for Damian’s being a Hidden, and in her opinion received very little credit for her actions in winning him the position. With Estella was Praxedes, the Warlock’s wife and the Titan that had been filling in for their previous leader before they’d taken Torak into the fold. When Torak had asked, she’d simply explained to him that she didn’t work well with their team, and would rather only be involved as a backup, should anyone be unable to fight. So far, that arrangement had suited them just fine, with Torak still coming up to speed with the team’s fighting abilities.

            Finally, there were the three hunters, Tessa, who wasn’t present, Ada, and her boyfriend Akshay. Akshay was a relatively new Guardian as well, having arrived at the Tower just before the Red War. Of course, living through the war made him plenty more seasoned than Torak, but he’d offered his help when Torak had joined the team initially, and had shown him the ropes more than once. Ada on the other hand was a veteran just like the rest, and just so happened to be Edon’s twin sister. Apparently, the two had been revived separately, both bearing only the memories of each other. When he’d introduced Torak to her, Edon had told him he’d been revived first, and had found a second Ghost searching for a Guardian they almost mistook as him. Together, they’d scoured the earth until they’d found her remains, and the Ghost had chosen her as their Guardian without question.

            Together, the group made up Fireteam Aadya, one of the best, as Torak had been told. He didn’t doubt it for a second, and he certainly didn’t now, as the Vanguard Leader’s eyes slid to Damian expectantly. Torak did his best to conceal his surprise. He’d known Damian was close to the leaders, but to call them to a meeting seemed…unfathomable, at least for someone like Torak.

            Damian was standing at the head of the war table, a mess of papers spread before him, some that Torak couldn’t even begin to comprehend. Some were lists, names in the Eliksni language, others were drawings, crude sketches of landscapes, makeshift maps. He recognized one of the Tangled Shore, a large X drawn just beside the Jetsam of Saturn, precisely where he and Torak had been attacked the night before.

            He watched Damian take a deep breath, so deep the end broke off into shudders, and when he let it out his posture visibly deflated. It was only then that Torak noticed his appearance. His robes were crumpled, like he’d been wearing them for days without pausing to rest or stop for more than an hour at a time. There were bags under his eyes and his hair was similarly tousled, stubble present on his usually clean shaven face and jawline.

            “Uldren Sov is dead.” He breathed, and the words seemed to lift a weight off the Warlock, even as he braced his hands on the table and leaned on it, as if relying on it to hold him up. “Tessa’s back at the Tower, too. She came back early this morning.”

            The whole room was silent at the news, shocked, of course, but mixed with it was a sort of relief. Guardians had been hunting the man for weeks, all to avenge Cayde-6. To know that he was finally dead pushed a tension from Torak’s gut that he didn’t even realize he’d been holding onto. Still, they remained silent. It was clear enough that there was more to say, or else this meeting wouldn’t have been called. There was something else Damian knew, and Torak could feel it in the weight of his stare as his eyes slid over the group.

            The man’s face broke into a weak smile, and he let out a small, breathy laugh as his head fell forward, his messy hair hanging forward, dropping onto his forehead when he finally lifted his head again.

            “You’re right.” He murmured, though no one had spoken, a hand raising to push back his hair. “There’s more. This…it isn’t the way it seems. This isn’t politics anymore. It’s not just Reef squabbles and things Guardians should stay out of. We can’t afford to anymore.”

            “How do you know?” Ikora spoke up from where she’d moved to stand beside him, her eyes drifting over the papers laid out on the table before them. “What’s happened?”

            “After Tessa came back from the Tangled Shore, Petra Venj tried to contact her.” Damian began, his eyes rising to look to Ikora, then to Zavala, the Commander having taken up the spot at the other end of the table. “I had her Ghost reroute the call to me, and then I went to the Tangled Shore in her place.”

            Damian took another deep breath, and Torak watched his eyes linger over the Awoken Commander, over his bright blue eyes, the cerulean blue of his face, the light dancing just below his skin.

            “The Awoken have this city,” he began finally, “It’s called the Dreaming City, it’s a sacred place for them, a place where they learn and meditate. They evacuated it before the Taken war, but…” He shook his head, his shoulders tense as he lowered his gaze to the table. “Oryx was there. He’d been there. I don’t know how or when, but I could feel…echoes of him in the ascendant plane.

            He seemed to push the thought aside, as if somehow it wasn’t an important detail, but how couldn’t it be? What could be worse than the Taken King finding a sacred place of the Awoken? And how had he found it? Had all this happened before he’d been killed? It had been years since the Taken war, how had they learned of this now?

            “Queen Mara is alive.” He continued, “And she and Petra say there’s a creature that dwells at the heart of the Dreaming City, something that corrupted Uldren. It’s been taken, and so have the Awoken Techeuns. Mara told Petra to open the city to the Guardians. To assemble a team to defeat this creature.” He raised his eyes to Zavala at last. “We need to go. You have to let the Guardians into the city. You have to let us kill it.”

            He raised a hand to gesture at the team around him, and Torak watched Zavala’s eyes drift over them. He did his best to hold himself up straight, despite his crutches and wounded ankle. Still, before he could speak, Torak heard Ikora’s voice again, and he quickly looked away from the Commander.

            “You believe these are the actions of Oryx?” She asked Damian, “That the Techeuns and this creature were taken by Oryx?”

            Damian only nodded. “If Savathün is involved, we have no knowledge of it yet. But I wouldn’t dismiss it from the realm of possibility. If Eris were here…” He trailed off, and Ikora gave him an understanding nod.

            Torak watched the exchange in silence, briefly glancing to Edon still at his side. He hoped the other Titan would be able to fill in the gaps later, like who Savathun was, and all his questions about Oryx and this creature, but the other man’s face was pinched in thought, and Torak bit his lip to avoid saying anything.

            Instead, he followed the gazes of his team as they shifted from Damian and Ikora to Zavala, still standing at the other end of the table. He hadn’t said a word since this little meeting had begun, but it was clear there was a heavy weight on his shoulders. To have such importance heaped on one person, Torak couldn’t imagine how he felt, especially after the loss of Cayde-6.

            “I have heard rumors of a creature the Awoken queen kept.” He said at last, “What more do you know of the one you are to kill?”

            Damian shifted on his feet, his hands sliding back to grip the edge of the table.

            “It’s called Riven.” He said quietly, and Torak didn’t miss the recognition that filled the Commander’s face like dread as he said, “the last known Ahamkara.”

            A hand shot out to grip his arm hard, and Torak looked to his side to find Edon holding onto him, his face an unreadable mask as his gaze locked on Zavala. Despite the firm grip, Torak did nothing to shove it off, even as it started to make his heart pound.

            “Ready your team.” The Commander said at last. “If they are not capable, they do not fight. We take no chances where an Ahamkara is concerned. The only business you have with it is to kill it, understood?”

            Despite the weight on his shoulders, Zavala’s commanding tone was back, his words firm and steady, as if he could make them law simply by speaking them from his lips. As far as Torak was concerned, he could, and his stomach dropped at the thought of not being allowed to go. He knew he was hurt, and he had no idea what this Riven creature was, or what an Ahamkara was or what made them so dangerous, but the idea of his team going without him sent a sort of fear deep into his gut. It barreled so deep he nearly grabbed for the hand still gripping his arm.

            “Yes, sir.” Damian answered, his voice firm as his posture straightened and the two exchanged a nod before Zavala looked to the group.

            “Dismissed.” The word had hardly left the Commander’s lips before Edon was tugging him from the room in earnest.

            They stumbled down corridors and staircases, Edon leading him further and further from the war room as he searched for a place of emptiness, every space they passed seeming to have too many prying eyes, too many people watching, listening. He wasn’t sure what they must’ve looked like to the other Guardians. Edon had released his arm to grip the fabric of his jacket, the Titan’s armored fist balled in it even as Torak struggled behind him on his crutches, his arms aching as he did his best to keep up. They’d only just arrived in a long corridor before Edon huffed in frustration, turning and shoving his way into the first door he saw, dragging Torak behind him without pause.

            A moment later, they found themselves in a cramped supply closet, but Edon seemed to regard it as some something magical, the perfect room he’d been looking for as he dragged Torak all the way in and slammed the door shut behind him, very nearly catching his mark in the door.

            “What the hell is going on?” Torak demanded as soon as the door had closed.

In such a tight space, his back was to a cart of cleaning supplies, mops and buckets and whatever else, he didn’t care to look. Edon was just in front of him, his back to the opposite wall, while Torak stood hunched over his crutches, his face nearly against the other man’s armored chest.

“We get to fight an Ahamkara.” Edon breathed, his eyes wide with excitement as he looked to Torak. So close, he could see the man was practically buzzing with energy, lit up like a child that had just been gifted the thing they’d most wanted for the holidays. Torak couldn’t understand it in the slightest.

“We get to?” He questioned, cocking his head forward and to the side as he furrowed his brows at the man.

“Have to, whatever.” Edon shook his head, waving a hand so quickly he nearly slapped Torak on the side of the face. “The point is, Riven is an Ahamkara! They’re legendary. They’re shapeshifters, they can take any form they want and they can grant any wish imaginable. Their power is unrivaled. That’s why the Vanguard had them all hunted down and killed years ago. They’re extremely dangerous.”

Torak only stared. Edon, he surmised, must’ve gone crazy. How could he be excited about this, especially after what had just happened? They could hardly survive a Hive ambush and now they were supposed to take down a beast so dangerous the whole race had been wiped out by the Vanguard? Of course, that was assuming Torak would even be allowed to fight. Could he even have it in himself to let Edon go without him? To let the whole team go without him? Of course they were stronger than he was, but it would tear him apart with worry if he had to sit at the Tower while they all faced such a creature.

“Why are you so excited about this? You’re not planning on making a wish or something, are you?” He questioned, and Edon quickly shook his head.

“No. Of course not, wishing for something from an Ahamkara is forbidden, not to mention extremely dangerous. It’s like Zavala said, our only business there is to kill it.” Edon reminded him, but a thought was already blooming in his mind.

“Wait, you said it could grant any wish?” He asked, and Edon bit his lip, but nodded.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. Whatever, don’t get any ideas. When we go, we have to be really careful around it. If you even think of something you want, an Ahamkara can make it happen, and then they’ll have power over you and we can’t afford that.” Edon told him quickly, worry seeming to crash down over his excitement.

“No, it’s not that.” Torak promised, “I wasn’t going to wish for anything. But Tessa will be coming with us, right?”

“Of course.” Edon answered, his brows furrowed in confusion now. “So?”

“So, what if she wishes for Cayde to come back?”

Torak could only begin to guess what the other Guardians thought when Edon burst from the supply closet, moving so quickly he knocked over a set of mops and brooms in the corner, the stack landing amid his legs and catching his feet when he tried to shove past them, out the door. The armored Titan landed in a heap, but he rolled onto his stomach just as quickly, summoning his Ghost with a hand.

“Find Damian!”

Ten minutes later, they were back in the war room, Edon bursting through the door so quick it flew open, drawing the eyes of everyone in the room. Torak shrunk at the attention, watching as both Vanguard leaders’ eyes roved over him as Damian shot him a questioning look. Edon, however, could not be deterred, marching up to the table at which the three were gathered with the intensity of someone bringing news from the war front. Torak hobbled behind him helplessly.

“What is it?” Damian was the first to speak, looking just a little more alert than he had during their meeting, though his hands were again braced on the table.

“Torak had an idea.” Edon said quickly, his hands gripping Torak’s shoulders suddenly. Despite the pain that flared at the touch, he did his best not to shrug out of it, and thanked the Traveler for Edon as he kept speaking even when all eyes slid to Torak.

“Maybe not an idea, but it was a thought.” He corrected, his words quick, almost frantic. Torak tried not to think of the words as an insult.

“What was it?” Damian asked. Torak could see his patience was wearing thin, not because of Edon of course, but because of the weight of everything around him, the situation paired with however long it had been since he’d slept. Not to mention his worry for Tessa, and the grief that he was feeling for Cayde. Torak had never seen him look more troubled.

“We just lost Cayde.” Edon blurted, and Torak could’ve sworn the whole room grew sharp with knives. Damian had to take a long, pained breath before responding.

“Was that really necessary?” He asked, and Edon bit his lip.

“No, I mean yes—“ He shook his head quickly. “Tessa just lost Cayde—“

“Edon.” Damian cut in sharply, and the Titan let go of Torak’s shoulders to raise his hands.

“Please, let me finish.” He said quickly, and Damian relented with a little sigh. “Tessa just lost Cayde, and we’re going to take her to fight an Ahamkara.”

Something in Damian’s gaze softened, and Torak saw true grief in his eyes as they slid down to the table below him. He patched up the break in his façade quickly enough, whatever mask he wore returning to its place over his face.

“Tessa knows the risks.” He said, his voice quiet. “We need her if we’re going to win this fight.”

“You’re sure?” Edon asked, his whole demeanor finally relaxing now that the words were out.

Tessa had been on the Tangled Shore for weeks. Torak knew without having to ask that she’d lived and breathed for the sake of revenge in those two weeks. It had given her a purpose his whole team had said they hadn’t seen in her since before the Red War. To put her in the position, where all she had to do was wish, and her pain would stop… Torak could hardly imagine dealing with that. He could only imagine the thoughts going through Damian’s head as he considered the very prospect.

“I am.” The warlock returned, a troubled look returning to him a moment later. “But there is another thing I’m sure about.” He raised his eyes to Torak’s and he felt his stomach drop to his toes. “Torak, I don’t want you to come with us.”

“Damian, you can’t—“ Edon cut in quickly. Torak gripped his arm without knowing what he was doing, grabbing his armored wrist and squeezing tight.

“This is my decision.” Damian said, holding his gaze. “I can’t let anyone get hurt. Praxedes will take your place for this fight.”

“If this is about the Hive, that was my fault.” Edon broke in, shaking Torak’s grip from his wrist. He wasn’t sure why, but the action hit him like a punch to the gut.

“This isn’t about the Hive.” Damian promised, “We still don’t know why they attacked you. I don’t blame either of you for that.” Torak wanted to be soothed by those words, but he couldn’t find it within himself.

“This is about experience. Torak, you didn’t fight in the Taken war, and you haven’t been a Guardian for that long, either. If something were to happen to you—“

Torak nodded, speaking only to stop Damian from saying anything else.

“I know.” He returned, “I understand.” He glanced to Edon quickly, finding the other Titan’s eyes burning with something like anger, and he couldn’t bear to look any longer as he turned towards the door once more, his hands gripping his crutches tight. “I’m going to go.”

He didn’t stop as he left the room, nor did he when he heard Edon call his name, hurrying after him a minute later. He didn’t bother trying to feel guilty as he ducked out of sight, and he didn’t acknowledge whatever sad feeling had sunk into his gut as he made his way back to his apartment.

Chapter Text

Torak didn’t see Edon for three more days. Edrei woke up on the first, and he was healed up and back to normal by the second. On the third, he went with Damian to the Dreaming City and the Tangled Shore, helping Petra Venj and the Spider clear out various enemies. The Dreaming City was a wonder made reality, something he could hardly fathom being real even as he walked on its ground and breathed its very air. It was beautiful, but sullied by the scorn’s presence to be something broken and damaged. It made that wound in him sting when he remembered he wouldn’t be allowed to help clear away whatever Taken had infected its heart.

               The thought of it reminded him that he couldn’t bear to see Edon. He ignored his calls and messages, but at the same time, he couldn’t get the man off his mind. He couldn’t stop thinking about Edon defending him to Damian, and the anger he’d seen in his eyes when he had. That terrible part of his subconscious, that fear that he’d brought with him from his past life welled up every time he thought of it. He couldn’t let Edon any closer. He had no idea why, but those unseen consequences were lurking around every corner. Perhaps the Hive ambush had meant something similar, like the universe’s way of telling them they couldn’t be together, that Torak had to stay away.

               On the day he finally saw Edon, he was with Tessa and Damian. They’d gone to the Dreaming City to speak with Petra Venj, finishing up all their last minute preparations before they took on Riven the next day. The rest of the team was supposedly in the city as well, but they’d broken up into three groups to cover more ground. He was with Tessa and Damian in the Divillian Mists, Ada, Akshay and Edon had taken Rheasilvia, and Estella and Praxedes had taken the Strand.

               Everything had been going well. They’d combed through the city destroying Scorn and taking out high level enemies that could complicate their battle the next day. They’d run patrols and done errands for the corsairs scattered across the city, and had been just about to head back to the Tower when a signal crackled across their feed.

               Damian had been the first to notice it, the soft sound of static cutting into their radios, paired with the sounds of explosions far off in the distance.

              “Hey team,” He said, and Torak paused as he signaled for them to, Tessa just beside him as they watched Damian climb onto a high rock. “Sound off for me, something’s not right.”

               Torak followed Damian’s gaze, peering out over the mists. They were at the far edge of the city, nestled in an outcropping of precious rocks usually held by scattered groups of scorn. Their enemies had given up the position after they’d entered the area moments ago, having been headed towards the transmatt zone at the base of the little hill the rocks sat atop. From the higher elevation, Torak could look out across most of the mists ahead of them, his sight unbroken as he looked to the massive building just ahead, and to the cave through the rocks that led to Rheasilvia to the left, and to the large open space that tunneled under the rocks towards the Strand on the right. All of it looked empty, eerily quiet, especially since their presence at the edge of the city gave their enemies the time to regroup.

               “We’re all here,” Came a reply a moment later, Akshay, Torak recognized, the Hunter’s smooth voice still clear over their coms. “What’s wrong?”

               “I’m not sure.” Damian answered, then paused, waiting for another answer. Nothing came, and Torak watched Damian knock his helmet with a knuckle lightly, crossing his arms in thought.

               “When’s the last time anyone’s heard from Estella and Praxedes?” Damian asked, scanning the mists once more before leaping from his perch.

               “About half an hour.” Edon’s voice supplied through the coms, and Torak brushed off whatever thoughts the voice conjured.

               “We were just about to be packing up, right?” Akshay asked, “Maybe they left early.”

               “That doesn’t explain why they wouldn’t be on coms.” Tessa spoke up beside him, her arms folded over her lightly armored chest. Damian landed just beside her, his hand already raised to summon his Ghost.

               “Their ship is still in orbit.” He said, “They haven’t left yet.” He shook his head, closing his fist to have his Ghost return to its hiding place. “Something’s not right.”

               The words had only just left his lips before static surged in Torak’s earpiece, and a muffled roar sounded through the radio, so familiar to Torak it was as though he’d just heard the same thing only moments ago.

               “Torak,” Edon’s voice sounded as soon as the static and the roar had ended. “That sounded like—“

               “I know.” He breathed in return, already facing Damian. “We need to go.”

               Their sparrows were out in seconds, and in moments they were zipping towards the Strand, Damian taking the lead as he weaved past rocks and scorn, none of the three pausing to fight them, save Tessa, who ran over three with her sparrow while hot in pursuit of Damian. As soon as they reached the tunnels, the static grew louder, and Torak could hear shouts with it, the garbled sounds of Estella and Praxedes’s voices shouting over the coms. Explosions began to sound ahead of them, and Torak could make out a mass of figures ahead of them, all rushing towards the Strand.

               Damian paid them no mind, and Tessa followed just behind, her sparrow’s nose nearly bushing the rear of Damian’s as they reached the figures filling the space. As he followed Tessa at the rear, Torak could make out all matters of hive, from thrall to acolytes to wizards. Cursed thrall flung themselves towards them as they zipped past them on their sparrows, pushing through the mess of them and further into the strand, towards whatever had gotten their attention. Torak began to understand with growing certainty what they were after.

               It was just as Edon had described to him. The Hive fought towards a point ahead of them, doing nothing to fight them until they placed themselves in the way. Even as they tore at his sparrow and shot at him as he zipped by, they were so…single minded. They didn’t even seem to notice when they fired upon one another, missed shots colliding with other Hive who hardly seemed to notice they were hit until they were collapsing from their injuries. The friendly fire might have been a comfort, if two more Hive didn’t seem to replace every one that went down.

               A familiar shriek sounded in the air, and Torak raised his head to the sky as almost a dozen Hive ships pulled into existence above him, lurching to a halt before depositing their passengers on the shores of the Strand, more and more Hive to join the fray.

               “Estella!”

               Torak jerked his head back to the scene in front of him as the scream sounded in his ear, Praxedes’s voice shattering through his radio with a screech of feedback and static. Despite the garbled noise, he’d never heard such pain in another person’s voice, fear and agony tearing into him as if he were feeling it himself. Still, he couldn’t see either guardian, but they must’ve been at the heart of the fray, all the explosions sounding from a spot just on the shore ahead of them.

               “Praxedes!” Damian responded in his ear, “We’re coming, hold on!”

               The masses of Hive only grew thicker ahead of them, and Torak watched Damian leap from his sparrow, his gun drawn in a flash of movement. Tessa was just beside him, lobbing a grenade into the fray, the explosive shattering into a dozen pieces that rushed towards the closest enemies. The two plunged into the hoards with the efficiency of warriors that had fought by each other’s sides for years, and Torak realized not for the first time that they did so only because it was true.

               They moved with a flawless ease that he could hardly comprehend, their movements like lightning through water as they fought, back to back at times as they attacked and defended as one. It was like watching a master fight with a sword and shield, only their roles were constantly switching without need for communication. Where one would attack, the other would defend, then they’d quickly switch, the other following up to deal a killing blow. The fighting, they blended so well together, if Torak didn’t know any better, he wouldn’t have believed Tessa had just spent weeks on her own, that she’d been avoiding Damian—all of them—for weeks, living and breathing the sole thought of revenge.

               He was shocked from his thoughts as something slammed into his sparrow before he could stop it, a projectile crashing into the machine’s front, throwing the rear of the machine into the air and launching him from the seat. He didn’t have time to recover from his little flight before he was plummeting into the fray.

               He hit the ground heavily, his pauldron smacking into his helmet, the noise so loud it nearly deafened him, and he cursed himself for every millisecond he wasted on the ground as the Hive surged around him, tearing at him with claws and slamming down on him with fists and armored feet. His heart jumped to his throat in panic, but he forced it away, raising his arms to cover his face as he shoved down worried thoughts. All he could think of was being pushed into that cave, being ambushed with Edon. That was what was happening, wasn’t it? Only he wasn’t the one in the cave this time. Estella was. She must’ve been. It was the only explanation that could’ve brought such pain to Praxedes’s voice. He had to help her.

               His light surged from him in a roar of furry, electricity spearing out in every angle as it arced through him, latching onto every enemy that laid hands on him and beyond. He didn’t watch them retreat, didn’t even allow them a moment to step back before he flung himself to his knees and slammed his fists into the ground so hard he could’ve sworn he broke every bone in his hands.

               It was of little concern to him, of course. The Hive around him vaporized with shrieks caught in their throats, and he was on his feet before the sound had faded from his ears. He only kept going after that, leaping into the air with the light as his carrier before he brought himself down on the hoard again, vaporizing a large circle of Hive again, and again.

               He was nearly to Tessa and Damian by the time he reached his limit, his light seeping back into his body even as the field of electricity around him continued to crackle for a few more seconds. He drew his gun in this time, taking out the closest enemies as he walked towards his allies. He might’ve been doing well for a moment, but there was still a mass of Hive between him and the other two guardians. Tessa and Damian had hardly made it a few feet from their position forward, the onslaught ahead of them seeming to finally realize the threat at their backs.

               Wherever Praxedes was, Torak couldn’t see her, the slight hill that led up from the rocky shore ahead covered in enough Hive that he only knew the other Titan was still fighting by the sounds of gunshots, and of the telltale void glow of her light whenever she flung grenades or tore down a hoard of Hive using only her fists and her light. Reaching her however, seemed impossible. Even reaching Damian and Tessa seemed impossible.

               Ahead of him, the Hive seemed to shift. They’d already moved to fight Damian and Tessa, not to mention himself, but it was like their priorities were being adjusted. Through glimpses as he fought, Torak watched the Hive circle Damian and Tessa, thinning the area closer to the shore and moving towards him as they fought the pair. Torak could see them fighting to get close, fighting to separate Damian from Tessa as if…as if they were herding him.

               As soon as Damian was five feet from Tessa’s side, the Hive speared between the two, forcing Damian to retreat towards the shore, into the area they’d cleared for him. Normally, Torak would have viewed it as a good thing. After all, the shore was where they’d been trying to go. Estella and Praxedes were both over there, they were fighting to save them. But this time, dread crept into his stomach.

               The Hive didn’t let up, they came down on Damian with a furry that perfectly matched the wrath he’d faced only days ago. They fought to keep him retreating, to keep him backing up towards the shore. The warlock quickly noticed this, of course, and he dug in his heels. Torak watched him hold his ground for as long as he could as he fought himself, fighting to get to Tessa, still being forced backwards, away from Damian and further towards him.

               Arc light lit the sky like a lightning storm, all colliding onto Damian’s position as he called down the storm around him again and again. Only, when he killed one Hive, two more seemed to take his place, until they tore through his defenses and he was forced to retreat. Torak watched him take to the skies, only to be shot down, his body colliding with the rocks with a wet slap, blood pouring from already present wounds.

               His Ghost revived him yards away, but the Hive could not be deterred, swarming him again within seconds, blocking him from Torak’s view just as he reached Tessa.

               “What’s happening?” She shouted to him as he reached her, daring only a glance over her shoulder before returning her eyes to her scout rifle. She took out the Hive closest to herself, then those closest to him, a line of thrall that had raced ahead of the rest with the intention of gouging their claws into his back. It offered him a moment of reprieve, and she let him take it as she weathered the storm that battered against them, now from both ahead and behind.

               “I think they’re trying to get him into the cave with Estella!” He called back to her over the roar of the battle. He punched a nearby acolyte after she shot it, finishing it off with a heavy blow that had it exploding into chiton. “When Edon and I were attacked, they separated us in the same way before they herded me inside.” Like a pack of wolves, separating their prey from the rest of the group.

               “Do you think they’ll come after you again?” She demanded, using her hip to knock him out of the way of a boomer’s projectile as she dodged it himself. Somehow, the huntress made the move look graceful, however he had very little time to contemplate the fact.

               As if in answer, the Hive surged from behind them, shoving towards him as the ones blocking their way towards Damian peeled off to shove towards Tessa. He felt Tessa’s hand snatch his mark as he moved to retreat a step, but she released it soon enough and turned back to fight off the half rushing towards her. Still, Torak could hear the message loud and clear.

               “You’re a Titan, act like one.”

               Indeed. He flung up a shield at his back, reaching out to grab Tessa and pull her behind it. With a bit of guilt, he turned his back on wherever Damian, Estella and Praxedes still fought, turning his attention instead on the onslaught of Hive trying to push him towards the group. He flung a grenade into their midst, then snatched up the auto rifle from his back and did his best to control the hoard pushing towards them. Tessa guarded their sides, standing behind him as she shot out the enemies pushing towards their right and left. When he paused to reload, she leapt into the air, her body glowing with solar fire as six knives appeared between her fingers, clutched in her hands until she spun and flung them at the hive, each landing dead on a different enemy, all exploding and sending the surrounding Hive back a few feet.

               She hit the ground on light feet, and her gun was back in her hands in an instant, wasting no time as she took aim at the Hive still recovering from her attack. Torak joined her just as fast, lobbing a grenade over the Hive closest to them, instead hitting the middle of the pack that had not been harmed by her attack. The grenade exploded in flowing currents of electricity, forcing the Hive to either retreat or push further towards them, only to be met by their rain of firepower.

               Still, they couldn’t hold the group forever. As soon as Torak’s grenade ran out of power, the Hive resumed their push forward, just as his shield fell behind them and the Hive surged from both directions. He turned to face the falling shield, feeling Tessa push flush against his back, her own body small compared to his, but certainly not without its own power.

               “We are not getting separated.” She told him as she faced the onslaught at his back. He could only pray they’d succeed, especially as he fought to keep his mind grounded and steady, his panic rising as he fought to keep the Hive ahead of him from overwhelming him.

               He felt Tessa lunge away from his back for a moment, and kept track of her movements by casting out his light, feeling through it like a sixth sense as she darted towards the enemies attacking them and tore apart their ranks with her knives. She didn’t allow herself to stray far from him, returning to him before she’d make another pass, while he used his rifle and his fists to keep his own side clear. They were able to hold their position for a good few minutes, enough that Torak’s panic began to subside and he began to relax into the rhythm of the battle, reminding himself that all they had to do was whether this storm, and that the Hive would give up eventually.

               He was consigned to do just that when a familiar noise prickled at his senses from above the roar of the battle and the Hive around him. Not the static he’d been hearing before, but the hum of a sparrow, of multiple sparrows, all zipping towards them. He hardly had time to look up before void arrows shattered the earth around him and Tessa, exploding into balls of light that tethered the dozens of nearby enemies to them, holding them still for him and Tessa to shoot. With the arrows came grenades, one of burning fire and the other of crackling electricity, tearing through the tethered ranks of the Hive as three Guardians landed just beside them.

               “You guys alright?” The first asked, and Torak nearly melted at Ada’s voice, the huntress striding up to stand next to them as Edon and Akshay peeled off to take on the rest of the onslaught.

               “We’re fine.” Tessa answered quickly, taking the moment to reload each of her guns. “The Hive had Estella and Praxedes separated when we got here. We think Estella is in a cave on the shore. Praxedes is fighting to get to her. Damian and I were fighting to reach them but he got separated from me a few minutes ago. Torak thinks they’re doing the same thing they did to him and Edon.”

               Torak didn’t miss the way the other Titan’s head lifted. Even as he fought the hoard, his spine straightened enough for Torak to clearly see it, and he lifted his head just a bit, as if it would allow him to hear Tessa’s voice clearer even as it was projecting through the radios in all their helmets.

               Ada didn’t waste more than a second before she nodded and began to move once more.

               “Akshay, go with Tessa and help Damian. Torak, Edon and I will get to Praxedes and then we’ll get Estella out of the cave together.” She told them, the orders flowing off the Huntress’s tongue with ease.

               Torak knew enough from Edon to know that Ada had never wanted to lead their fireteam, but she spoke orders like a commander. Ever since the Red War had ended, she’d been in the Crucible with Shaxx, training teams of new recruits through battles with matches of Control, Clash and Rumble. The last of which she’d been a reigning champion for years among the highest of the professional leagues of the Crucible. Torak had trained with her before, too. Though he could typically hold his own in a fight, she’s put him to shame. She’d killed him before he could even raise his gun so many times Edon had given him hell for it for a week. After that, he’d only gone into the Crucible on days he knew she wouldn’t be there.

               Still, it knowing her efficiency, it was a comfort to have her on the field, and even more so as she began clearing the way forward with little effort. Edon hurried just after her, and he rushed to join them, Tessa and Akshay rushing off to find Damian.

               Unfortunately, Torak made it all of three steps before a blade tore through his heavy chestplate like it was soft butter. He heard himself shout in surprise as he staggered back, scrambling to exchange his auto rifle for the sidearm at his thigh as he made a hasty retreat. His chestplate sagged against itself as he dared a glance at it, only the thick fabric that held it to his body standing between the Hive’s weapons and his undersuit.

               He didn’t allow himself any time to think about how quickly that fabric could be rendered useless as he snapped his eyes back up to his attacker. Attackers. Where the first Knight was still moving towards him, a second had appeared by his side, swinging their blade out at him in a huge upward motion. He only narrowly managed to dodge the blow, twisting out of the second knight’s range in a maneuver that brought him closer to a third, one that had practically appeared in the space the other two had left open.

               The third Knight’s blade hit him before he could turn, using the same upward motion the other had used, only this time the blade cut deep into his back, slicing clean through the plate on his back and past the thick fabric and his undersuit. He heard his own scream echo in his ears as he doubled forward, falling to his knees in the shallow water just beyond the shore.

               The first Knight advanced, and he flung himself back, away from its blade before he was split in two. The maneuver landed himself on his back in the water, and he knew without looking that his blood was already staining the space around him crimson. Still, somehow he’d maintained his grip on his sidearm, only his training and muscle memory reminding him to keep his hold on the weapon. It would save his life, proving just as critical as it always had as he raised his arm to fire at the second knight now advancing on him. With the close range, he fired three quick shots into the Knight’s skull before it staggered and fell back, buying him enough time to lunge to his feet.

               The other two knights refused to allow him to escape, charging past the second to rush after him, one of them catching his foot with their sword and sending him crashing into the water on his face. Fear surged as he fell, and he scrambled to roll onto his back as adrenaline surged through his veins like electricity, arc light following an instant later. He shoved himself to sit up, throwing his fist into the nearest Knight as arc energy roared around him.

               The Knight vaporized on impact, while the other two roared in anger, and his gun was gone from his hand as he slammed his fists into the ground just as his light came to a peak, exploding out of his body with enough force that he smashed a crater into the ground and flung the remaining two knights feet from him, both landing on their armored backs. He followed up quick, launching himself at the nearest one, using his left hand to grab his knife from his hip, burying the blade deep in the knight’s throat before it could rise. In his right hand, he redrew his sidearm, taking out the other knight as it sat up, firing enough shots into its head that the chitin mask exploded into dozens of shards, and the knight fell to the ground with a splash, it’s dark blood already spreading around it.

               Neither rose, and Torak drew his knife from the throat of the first, dragging it through the water as he allowed himself a moment to breathe. The familiar warmth of light settled over him as his injuries mended themselves, and he let out a quiet sigh as he rose to his feet. The last time he’d been attacked by that many knights at once—

               An explosion made him flinch, and he lifted his eyes skyward as a burning hammer shattered off to his right, tearing a hole in the group of Hive that had turned to attack him after he’d felled the knights. Above him, Edon glided through the air, burning with solar fire as he flung hammer after hammer into the mess of Hive. Torak wished his heart hadn’t jumped to his throat in fear when the other Titan had faced him, but he couldn’t fight the instinct even as he forced his lungs to accept a shaky breath.

               At that point, Edon’s glide seemed to run out, the light releasing its hold on him and letting him drop to the ground, only, he never made it that far.

               A shriek sounded in his ear, and he turned to look across the battlefield, finding three wizards occupying the only bit of open space on the shore, and below them, a massive enemy clawed its way from the rocky ground. The Hive Ogre was massive, it’s body built of sturdy bone, right up until the mess of flesh at the beast’s face, its familiar eye facing him with a gazeless attention. He opened his mouth to warn Edon, only for the Ogre to roar, it’s eye beginning to blast too quickly, flinging Edon from the sky before Torak could even speak.

               What followed was utter chaos.

               Torak’s body lived and breathed fear. His hands moved because his body demanded them to, only with the intention of saving himself. Three Ogres had appeared across the shore, each sighting a different target. He couldn’t get away from the one that moved after him, his only option was to retreat towards the shore, towards the cave. Ada’s scream sounded in his ears moments later, and Tessa and Akshay were shouting. Damian was yelling, Edon was screaming his name. He could hardly hear, he could hardly think, panic overwhelmed him until everything was chaos, until he was being pushed further and further back, until he was at the lip of the cave and the Ogre was upon him and he wouldn’t go in, couldn’t bear to retreat another step.

               He died five times to the Ogres fists. Five times they smashed his scull or shattered his spine or reduced his ribs to splinters, the light fading from his eyes with pain still roaring through his body. Five times he was broken and remade on the threshold before the Ogre had enough, before it roared and threw him into the darkness with enough force his skull burst apart on the rocks.

               When he was up again, he could hear someone crying. Mechanical whirrs and static filled his ears with the sounds of grunts as someone fought beside him, Estella, he realized, crying as she wielded bits of her light, vaporizing thrall and dodging witches as she ducked in and out of the void. He stumbled to his feet as quickly as he could, rushing to her as he found his gun still in its holster. It was just as it had been before. The cave was dark, lit only by the flashes of explosions, or by the deep glow of Estella’s light as she continued to fight, as she sent the Hive to a place they would never be able to claw their way out of.

               Two grunts sounded from the entrance to the cave, and Torak had just risen to his feet as Damian and Ada were flung into the wall with enough force he knew it could only have been the Ogre’s doing. Damian’s skull shattered, just as his had, his helmet breaking open like an egg only for his head to take the rest of the blow, blood splattering across the rocks before his body had even fully collided with the cracked cave wall. Ada was more fortunate, curled in Damian’s arms, his body broke under her impact, and she hit the ground wounded but alive. A deathly dim glow appeared along the injured parts of her body, her light only doing enough to close the wounds enough to insure she wouldn’t bleed out before it sunk back into her skin. She didn’t have time to look at Damian’s body as she rose.

               Torak shot out the Hive closest to her, a line of thrall advancing into the cave, lit by the thin bands of light that slid in from the entrance, the only bits that could get through the hoard surging in. At the sight of him, Ada hurried over, a limp in her stride even as she took up her gun in confident hands, taking out the closest enemies as she made her way to the little curve he and Estella held. Behind them, the cave curled into deeper darkness, the lights from their weapons and armor doing little to pierce the sheen even as it reflected off the fine gems and stones that lined the cave. Still, no Hive had come from that way, which meant they could have their backs to a safe space, and they could have a place to retreat to if they had to.

               Light flooded the chamber in a flash, and in an instant Damian stood behind them, alive and reborn again, yet somehow his body looked exhausted as ever, and he hit the ground on shaking legs as his eyes struggled to search the darkness. His body went rigid a moment later.

               “Estella.” He breathed, the name practically a song of pain.

               He was right, of course. Torak had been doing his best to help her with the Hive, clearing out the steady stream she had battled as he held his ground by her side. Still, he hadn’t missed how damaged she was.

               Her armor was in tatters, her helmet half broken as it rested over her head, the glow of her eyes and mouth piercing through holes in the metal. Her robes were practically shreds as well, torn and hanging off her metal frame as she held herself up weakly. Oil pooled on the cave floor below her, smeared the walls she’d leaned on, pooled in her systems until she coughed it out and it splattered out the holes in her helmet. Each breath was a rasping noise, and Torak wasn’t even sure she needed to breathe, but the fans in her system clattered around enough for him to realize that perhaps she was panting, hoping to relieve her body from the heat pooling within.

               Regardless, it was a wonder she was still standing, still fighting as she dared only a glance at her friend before she returned her attention to the Hive ahead of them, the other Guardians doing the same. Damian made his way to stand beside her, wrapping an arm around her waist as he fired his sidearm with one hand, supporting her weight with his own body even as they continued to fight.

               “Why are they targeting us?” Ada questioned, moving to stand at Torak’s side as she took out a number of cursed thrall near the entrance of the cave.

               “This is the same thing that happened to me and Edon.” He told her, “They trapped me in a cave and tried to kill me. We never figured out why.”

               “Whatever the reason, we need to get out of here.” Estella rasped, her voice full of static. Torak dared a glance at her, finding her leaning heavily against Damian. She shifted her weight only to let out a pained cry, falling into Damian all the more as Torak quickly moved to support her other side. “If Savathün ever shows her face I’ll carve her to pieces.” She spat, oil splattering as she spoke.

               “You think this is Savathün?” Damian questioned, raising his arm to take out a thrall that had darted towards the group. Thankfully, since the four of them had been together in the cave, the amount of Hive coming in had slowed to a small but steady stream, slow enough for them to take them out relatively easily as they spoke. Torak only prayed they weren’t waiting to deal a larger blow all at once.

               “Who else could it be?” The Exo grunted in response, her tone more than pained even as she allowed Torak and Damian to take her whole weight. Torak had known Exos to be heavy, with their metal frames and oil and machine parts, but Estella was lighter than he’d expected, dangerously so. It would only be a matter of time before the loss of oil and the damage to her systems caught up with her.

               Damian didn’t answer, nor did Estella seem to look for one as he and Torak used their free hands to shoot at a group of Hive pushing through the entryway. If the Ogres were still guarding the entrance, there would be no way for them to make it out alive, as low on light as they were. Even if Torak, Damian and Ada worked to clear the way, he doubted they’d be able to make it safe enough for Estella to survive outside of the cave for very long, but at the same time, staying would be suicide.

               Their fates were effectively in the hands of their team. Torak could only pray they would be enough to save them.

Chapter Text

It took a dozen guardians to clear the shore. It took Akshay leaving the fight to climb to the highest cliff for them to get a radio signal to Petra, and then it took another hour for them to wave down Guardians and convince them to stay long enough to fight the hoard of Hive. Edon had worked with Tessa to rescue Praxedes, the other titan nearly dead on her feet as they cleared the way to her and then back to the edge of the shore with her in tow. While they’d rescued her, Akshay had gathered them as many Guardians as he could find, and together they’d thrown themselves at the Hive in a burning mass of light until they’d been able to clear a path to the cave.

               Praxedes nearly broke when she saw her wife. Edon hadn’t been able to convince her otherwise, and had instead been glued to her side as they’d led the charge into the cave, finding Estella held in Torak’s arms as he’d used whatever Void light he had left to envelop her in a weak shield of light. Torak had been trembling when they’d led him from the cave, Estella still held against his chest. Edon had known better than to think it was from the strain of his actions.

               No, he saw the fear in him with every step, as he held tight to Estella and followed him and Praxedes out of the cave without so much as looking around, remaining rigid long after they’d piled onto Damian’s ship and headed for the tower at breakneck speed. Thankfully, Edon’s sister was the least damaged out of all of them, and for that he was grateful as he dropped a kiss onto her forehead and dismissed himself to look after Torak. Akshay would take good care of her, after all. He’d certainly done so since they’d gotten her out of the cave.

               Damian had been worse for wear, but had taken Estella and Praxedes into the little bedroom at the back of his ship. No one had entered or left the room since they’d taken off, but Edon had seen Estella when Torak had carried her from the cave. Whatever they were doing in there could very well be the difference between life and death, and Edon certainly wasn’t one to interrupt.

               Doing his best to keep his steps quiet on the metal floors, he made his way to the rear of the ship, into the little armory Damian had created in rear of the space, where the ramp closed up against the body of the ship. Torak had taken refuge there, tending to his own injuries while the team looked after Estella. So far, it’d been effective. Damian and Praxedes had been looking after Esella, he and Akshay had been looking after Ada, and Tessa had been flying them back to the tower, leaving the other Titan alone in the back of the ship.

               Edon nudged open the door to the little room without a word, letting himself in quietly as he peered into the room beyond. Torak sat at the back of the space, his back to the wall, his armor spread out below him. He was bare from the waist up, his undersuit rolled down to his hips as he bent over himself, working to tend to a deep gash on his arm. He couldn’t help but notice there were other, more pressing wounds he could have devoted his attention to—a slice on his torso, bleeding though the gauze and bandage he’d wrapped around it, a cut in his thigh, stapled shut through a slice in his undersuit—he had to look away before he saw them all, had to return his gaze to the other man’s face.

               Tears were flowing steadily down Torak’s cheeks, silent but swift as he worked, meanwhile his whole body trembled, making his fingers clumsy as he tried repeatedly to paste a butterfly stitch across the gash far too deep for one to be effective. The sight made Edon’s throat clench, and he wasn’t sure if Torak’s body was trembling from fear or pain as he worked, but he didn’t miss the way he jerked away from him as soon as he sighted him in the doorway.

               “Can I help you?” Edon asked him quietly, nodding to the wound he was still struggling with as he did his best not to take Torak’s reaction personally. Just as he’d done his best not to take Torak avoiding him for the past three days personally. He shoved the thoughts from his mind before they could fester. They’d do no good for him now. Torak needed his help, not his judgement.

               “No.” The other man responded, though his voice was choked. “I’ve got it.” He bent his head forward once more, dutifully ignoring Edon’s gaze as his hair fell forward. The little braid he wore at the top of his head was gone now, leaving the still wavy, blood crusted strands to fall to either side of his otherwise shaved head, or forward into his face.

               Edon’s face fell at the answer, but he didn’t give up, taking a few slow steps towards Torak, the way he might approach a wounded animal. Slow and steady, careful not to scare him off.

               “I don’t need your help.” Torak told him when he didn’t stop, glaring at him through the sheen of messy hair in his face. Edon only shook his head softly, reaching him and kneeling down in front of the man.

               “I think you do.” He told him, as gently as he could. He reached out his hands for Torak’s arm, but was careful not to touch him. He hadn’t been careful enough about it before, hadn’t realized the way Torak flinched or tensed when he touched him. Perhaps it had been what had driven him off. “May I?” He asked instead, inspecting the injury as best he could without touching it.

               He watched the other man frown, his brows knitting as his eyes closed and he drew in such a deep breath it looked like it aggravated the wounds on his ribs as he let it out with a heavy shudder.

               “Fine.” He breathed, holding his arm out to Edon finally as he eased himself down to sit beside him.

               Edon positioned himself carefully, moving to sit on Torak’s left side so he wouldn’t have to bend over his outstretched legs to offer him his arm. Still, he was careful not to touch him, managing to cross his legs even in his bulky armor, insuring there was a good few inches of space between Torak’s legs and his own bent knees. Still, he took Torak’s arm in his hands, setting his elbow onto his knee as he peered down at the gash.

               The wound was long, stretching along the underside of his arm from the inside of his elbow, curving up towards the outer edge of his forearm before curving back to the inside of his wrist. Torak wasn’t pale, but he could see it crossed through the vein along his arm numerous times before the gash ended.

               “Is Edrei…?” Edon began to ask, trailing off before he could finish. Torak only shook his head.

               “She’s alright.” He answered. “But she can’t heal me, I gave everything I had to Estella.”

               Edon only nodded in understanding. He’d seen it, the way Torak had held his shield of void light around her, up until he’d set her down on the bed where she lay now. Torak didn’t even wield void light, not commonly. He was a Striker, and had been for as long as Edon had known him. But for Titans, void light meant protection, it meant being the wall that didn’t break, it meant taking the blows so other people wouldn’t have to. For Torak—the most inexperienced member of their fireteam—to have to step in to protect Estella…Edon couldn’t fight the sensation that he’d failed, the overwhelming dread that told him he’d slipped up again, that someone else in his team had been injured. That he hadn’t been there to protect them.

               That was his job, after all. He’d been a titan on this team for far longer than Torak or Praxedes had been. Protecting them all had been his job; it was supposed to be his job. When they were in battle, it was his shield that their attackers broke against. It was his shield that protected him. But he hadn’t been there. And after Balendin had died, when the Tower fell—

               Torak must’ve seen the thoughts within him, for he gave a light cough, moving to pull his arm back from his knee.

               “I’m bleeding on you.” He pointed out, “If you’re not going to help, don’t help.” He told him, to which Edon quickly grabbed his arm, though he was careful not to touch the wound.

               “No, no! I’m sorry.” He stammered, “I’ll help. I’m sorry.” He shook the thoughts from his head, brushing his curls from his forehead as he bent his head to examine the wound once more. “I think you’ll need stitches for this.” He pointed out quietly.

               He rose his head to look at Torak once more, just as the other Titan sighed and let his head fall back, hitting the metal wall with a clang. With his free hand, he gave Edon a weak wave. Do whatever you want. He seemed to say.

               Edon had to tear his gaze away as he peered at the bit of Torak’s face that he could see, the hard jawline, the clean-shaven chin and neck, the bump of his Adam’s apple in his throat. He had to force his eyes back down, not allowing them to linger on Torak’s chest—his muscled, broad chest—before he returned his gaze to the wound.

               Beside Torak, a med kit had been opened, the contents now strewn about across the floor it. In it, he hunted for a needle and thread to stitch up the wounds. After a good bit of searching, he returned his attention to the wound, now armed with gauze, bandages, disinfecting spray and the needle and thread he’d been looking for. Torak was silent has he worked. His body still trembled, but very lightly, his arm still even as his core seemed to shake with tension, as if he were shivering and doing his best to stop himself. His tears had stopped flowing, too. Edon hadn’t seen one tear since Torak had noticed him in the room, but Torak was a private man, Edon didn’t blame him if he didn’t want to cry in front of him, even if it did leave something to be desired in their level of trust.

               Still, they fell into the same rhythm they’d had days ago, where Edon had stitched up all of Torak’s wounds on his own ship. Despite that, Edon couldn’t help but notice Torak seemed worlds more uncomfortable now, especially when he’d had to lay down to let Edon stitch the wound across his stomach. It was even worse as he got to the wounds on his back, every muscle in his body going taught with tension as he lay on his stomach while Edon worked.

               He doesn’t trust you. A little voice spoke at the back of his head, coming from the dark corner of his mind, opposite to the light where his ghost resided. He pushed the thoughts away. Torak needed him…even if he didn’t trust him.

               “Are you okay?” He asked the Titan after a long moment. “Mentally, I mean. I know you’re pretty banged up physically.”

               Torak didn’t answer, didn’t even shift, only grew a little more tense, which Edon hadn’t even realized had been possible. It took everything in him to resist touching the taught muscles, to resist using his hands to wring the tension from his shoulders, to smooth out the corded muscle.

               “I just—” Edon shook his head, his curls bouncing. “You were in that cave for a while, and after what happened the other day…” He trailed off. “I think I’d be pretty messed up about it if it had happened to me. What I’m trying to say is…I’m here, if you want to talk.”

               He let out his breath with a little sigh. The words were out, Torak had heard them. It was the best he could do, even if he knew he wasn’t going to get even the smallest reply. It didn’t matter, what mattered was that he knew.

               “Before you came to my apartment that morning,” Torak’s voice shocked him so much he flinched, quite literally jabbing the man with the needle he’d been wielding at his back. He withdrew it quickly, placing a finger lightly over the spot as he voiced a few quick apologies.

               “Before you came to my apartment that morning,” he repeated after a moment, his voice gravely as he spoke. “I’d stayed up almost the whole night after you left.”

               “You head a nightmare.” Edon recalled, “You told me that.” Torak only nodded, clearly not quite done.

               “I had a nightmare about you.”

               The words hit him like a slap to the face, but he managed to lift his needle away from Torak’s skin as he sat back, away from him.

               “You—” He shook his head, he’d recognized that Torak hadn’t entirely trusted him, but to have nightmares about him? To be afraid of him? “What?”

               It was all he could manage.

               “I dreamed I was in the cave they herded me into, and you were rescuing me.” He began, not shifting from his position where he lay. Whether it was to avoid Edon’s gaze, or to keep himself from straining his injuries or tearing out his half-finished stitches, Edon didn’t know. He didn’t want to find out.

               “You came in with your hammers, only after you’d cleared the room, you didn’t stop.”

               “I killed you in your dream?” Edon managed, wishing he could drag Torak up by his shoulders to get him to at least look at him. “Is that why you were avoiding me?”

               Torak didn’t move for a long moment, then he shook his head.

               “No, it’s complicated, I don’t—” He moved to sit up, twisting onto his side with a wince, just as the door opened and Damian—exhausted but somehow still standing Damian—poked his head inside.

               He looked even worse than he had when Edon had seen him last, and that was certainly saying something. Before, his entire body had been splattered with blood, both Hive and human, and oil had covered the left half of his robes where they weren’t bloody or covered in holes and tears. Nicks and gashes could be seen on every bit of exposed skin he had, his face and neck covered in them, while his hands had been so covered in blood and oil and filth Edon hadn’t even begun to be able to see where the damage began and ended.

               Now, his robes were missing, dressed in his leg armor, and under armor, his heavy chestplate still resting on his chest from where it usually sat under his robes. Every ounce of him seemed to be smeared with something, whether it was oil, blood, mechanical fluids or grime. It was as he’d just rebuilt a machine from scratch, covered in filth and blood. Edon prayed he hadn’t, facing the man as the other conversation he’d been having flew from his mind for an instant.

               “Is Estella alright?” He demanded before the other man could even open his mouth to speak.

               Damian nodded quickly. “She’s damaged, but she’ll be alright. Are you two busy?”

               “Kind of.” Edon answered, giving him a nod as Torak shook his head.

               “No.” The other Titan answered at the same time, and Damian rose a brow. He didn’t voice a word on the matter even as he gave Edon a little questioning look.

               “Alright, well I need to talk to the team, so get out here as soon as you can.” He told them, not giving either of them a chance to reply before he ducked back out of the room and shut the door behind him.

               Neither of them said anything for a moment, Edon’s mouth open to speak only for him to turn and find Torak’s back to him.

               “Finish the stitches.” The titan told him, his tone full of enough authority it made Edon pause.

               “We need to talk about this.” Edon pressed, restraining his hands from picking up the needle still dangling from Torak’s half-closed wound.

               “Later.” Torak answered, not turning to look over his shoulder despite how much Edon wanted to force him to. He wasn’t used to people closing themselves off to him, at least not people that he liked. Ada had never been particularly forthcoming about her own emotions, but they were twins after all, there was only so much she could really keep from him.

               But Torak? He’d never met anyone quite like Torak. The man was a brick wall. Edon knew there was emotion underneath, but he’d only been able to glimpse bits and pieces through the gaps in his façade. It drove him crazy. He wanted to help Torak, and yet time and time again he was shut out. If it had been anyone else, Edon probably would’ve given up already, but Torak…something about him made him want to keep trying. No matter how many times he pushed him away.

               “Promise?” Edon asked finally, taking up the needle and tightening the existing stitches as gently as he could. He watched Torak tense at the touch, but he drew in a deep sigh, purging some of the tightness from his muscles as he let it out slowly.

               “Fine.” He breathed, “I promise.”

               Ten minutes later, they met the rest of the team in the largest space of the ship, the little sitting area that sat just behind the cockpit, complete with a table bolted to the floor, and a bench sort of couch that likely doubled as a bed. Tessa sat atop the table, Damian at her side, leaning heavily on the sturdy metal, while Ada and Akshay had taken part of the couch. Both Estella and Praxedes were missing—not that Edon was even remotely surprised—and he took advantage of the open space, sliding onto the couch beside Ada while Torak seated himself on the floor a few feet from Akshay.

               He’d finished stitching up the wounds in Torak’s back, and had even convinced the man to let him help him back into his undersuit, which he now wore zipped up over his upper half as well, though it was still spotted with holes and tears. Of course, none of the rest of them looked any better.

               Damian had nodded at them when they’d entered, his face already showing he was too tired to inquire over their little disagreement earlier. Edon was glad for it, not to mention the man certainly needed his rest after everything they’d been dealing with. He was even more grateful when Damian spoke as soon as they were seated, getting straight to the point.

               “I’ve talked to the Vanguard leaders and Petra.” He told them, his eyes drifting over them even as he spoke. Looking them over for injuries, a commander assessing his troops, but at the same time it was more than that, a man looking after his friends, his family, refusing to rest until he knew they were alright.

               “We’re still fighting Riven tomorrow, but Estellla and Praxedes won’t be coming with us.” He told them, and Edon straightened, surely he couldn’t have them going with only a fireteam of four…which meant—

               “Torak and Akshay will be taking their places. I know I said I didn’t want to risk anyone but at this point we don’t have much of a choice.” He finished with a little sigh. “If we find that the threat tomorrow is more than we can face, if it’s anything like what happened today, we’ll retreat back to the Tower or the Spider’s lair if we can’t make it that far. We’ll regroup when we’re ready, but I don’t think it will come to that.

               “If anyone has a problem with that, they can take it up with me privately. Otherwise, get some rest. We’ll be back at the Tower soon.”

               Edon couldn’t quite bring himself to rise as Damian dismissed them. Instead, he watched as Tessa returned to the cockpit, and Akshay dropped a kiss to Ada’s brow before he rose to speak to Damian, leaving Edon’s sister to slide down on the couch and curl onto her side, kicking a leg unceremoniously over his lap. No one but him seemed to notice as Torak ducked out of the little room on quiet feet, returning to his little refuge without a word to any of them.

               It was early the next morning when they arrived back at the Tower. So early the sun hadn’t even begun to stain the sky as they pulled into the hangar and piled out, doing their best not to glance at the now empty station of the Hunter Vanguard as they limped towards the communal levels of the Tower, eager to make their way to their beds after the very long day of fighting.

               Torak hadn’t said a word to him the whole flight back, even when he’d let himself back into the man’s little refuge and had taken up the needle and thread again, finally stitching up the wound on his thigh that had been stapled closed during the rush to get everyone on the ship. Torak had sat still as he’d worked, silent as Edon had decided to work around his undersuit rather than asking him to remove it the way he had the last time. If Torak didn’t trust him, he wasn’t about to make it worse with making him uncomfortable. He wasn’t about to make him more afraid of him after the man had had dreams of being killed by him.

               The thoughts had weighed heavy on his mind the whole way back, even as he followed the team out of the Hangar and towards the open levels of the Tower courtyard. They didn’t bother visiting the postmaster for any lost gear they’d forgotten to retrieve in the Dreaming City, and neither of the Vanguard Leaders were at their posts due to the early hour. Instead, they made for the Bazaar, and for the elevators that would take them down to the residential floors of the Tower.

               Edon had been just about to step off the elevator after Ada and Akshay, to leave Torak behind in order to go to his own apartment when the Titan gripped his arm.

               “You wanted to talk.” Torak reminded him, setting his free hand on the elevator door to keep it from closing. “Come with me, I owe you an explanation.”

               Edon looked at him in dull shock, his eyes searching the Titan’s face for some sort of meaning he couldn’t grasp. Torak wanted to talk to him now? They were all dead on their feet, beyond exhausted and positively aching for their beds and Torak wanted to talk to him now?

               But who was he to deny him? To push him away? He’d been waiting for Torak to open up to him, who was he to squander this opportunity, this attempt at trust just for perhaps another hour of sleep? So, he gave Torak a little nod, following the man back into the elevator once more, almost wishing he’d moved a little slower, if only for Torak’s hand to linger on his arm a little longer.

               They rode down together in silence, and Torak didn’t speak when they reached his floor and he stepped out, leading Edon towards his apartment with a small glance back. Whether he was checking to insure that Edon was following, or second guessing his actions, he didn’t know, but he didn’t comment on it either way. Torak walked with just the smallest limp as he led the way down the hall, the injury on his thigh likely still painful even after Edon had removed the staples and stitched the wound up properly. Still, he didn’t admit any pain to Edon, nor did Edon offer any help as they walked, instead being careful to maintain his distance and to not impose as he trailed behind the other man.

               It didn’t take long to reach Torak’s door, and he opened it with an easy touch, the systems sensing his presence and allowing him inside. He stepped in, holding the door open for Edon, who followed him inside before turning in the entryway to face him. Edon watched as Torak closed the door, facing it for a good moment before he turned and set his back against it, looking over Edon without saying a word.

               “You wanted to talk?” Edon prompted, even though really it was the other way around. He had wanted to talk to Torak, it was only that Torak had been the one to offer.

               Still, the other man nodded, glancing past him before raising his chin at the table that sat off the little kitchen, behind the breakfast bar where Torak had sat when they’d last been in this apartment together.

               “We should sit down.” He told him, and Edon nodded in understanding, turning and approaching the table as Torak pushed off the door.

               He settled himself at the closest seat, Torak circling the table to sit across from him, settling himself down with a little, pained sigh. He didn’t speak again for a long moment, wringing his hands atop the table as he stared down at them, searching their lines and scars as if they held the answers he sought.

               “I’m not afraid of you.” He told him finally, and Edon said nothing. What could he even say to that?

               “Maybe I am.” Torak confessed instead, then shook his head. “But I don’t want to be.” Torak finally rose his gaze at this, peering almost sheepishly at Edon, his eyes drifting quickly over his face, his neck, his chest.

               “Why would you be afraid of me?” Edon asked, Torak finding his eyes at last, seeming to still at the question.

               “I don’t know.” He answered, shaking his head. “Since we were attacked, and since we’ve been in the field together, it always feels like there’s this little sense in me, warning me to stay away from you. Like some part of me knows that being close to you is dangerous.”

               “So, you’re not afraid of me, you’re afraid of…” he trailed off, trying to wrap his head around it all, “…being with me?” What kind of being with me? His mind demanded hardly a second later, but he wasn’t about to ask.

               “When we were in the Strand today, when we were attacked, everyone was in pairs, and the Hive separated everyone within those pairs. Damian and Tessa, Ada and Akshay, Estella and Praxedes,” Torak recalled, counting off the pairs on his fingers.

               “You and me.” Edon finished for him. It was his turn to bring his gaze down. Torak had a point. After Torak had been separated from them by the knights, Akshay had picked up on what was going on and had retuned to Ada’s side. The hive had stopped at nothing to cleave them apart, literally killing themselves for the chance to put distance between the two hunters.

               “They didn’t start really trying to single me out until after you showed up. It was like they were afraid of you being with me, afraid of what we would do together.” Torak continued, and Edon nodded.

               “But couldn’t that be a good thing?” He suggested, “They separated Tessa and Damian and they’ve always been stronger together. Same with Estella and Praxedes. If the Hive are afraid of what we can do, isn’t this something we should be exploring?” He was leaning forward in his seat now, his eyes trained on Torak’s intently from across the table. Alert and aware and questioning.

               “Maybe? But that’s—” He shook his head, pulling his gaze down and away. “That’s not my point. The point is—”

               “If every time you’re with me you get hurt, why would you have any reason not to be afraid of me?”

               The worlds tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them, overwhelming him in a world of cold. After what had happened to him the other day, the fears had been planted, it explained why he’d been so nervous about being with him on his ship, being close to him. And his nightmare had been a manifestation of those fears. To have them repeat themselves today, and then to have Edon seek him out afterward, it made everything he’d done make so much more sense. No wonder he hadn’t wanted his help, no wonder he’d been rigid to every touch. It was an irrational fear somehow made rational, and Edon couldn’t blame him for it one bit.

               “But I don’t want to be afraid of you.” Torak pressed, and Edon lifted his eyes at the intent within his voice. “I don’t want to have to worry about getting hurt. I want us to be stronger together, I want us to be able to withstand these Hive attacks, I want us to fight together the way Tessa and Damian do.”

               The way Tessa and Damian did…Edon had been thinking of the pair for a long time now, of their bond so close it manifested itself within their very light, linking them together almost the way Ghosts and Guardians were, a bond incredibly rare between Guardians and hardly understood at all. Each pair Torak had mentioned before were romantically involved, Damian and Tessa were engaged, Estella and Praxedes were married, and Ada and Akshay had been dating since just after Akshay had been revived. It made sense for the Hive to want to separate them from one another. They were each other’s weaknesses. When they’d all been trapped in that cave, Tessa, Akshay and Praxedes had been ready to destroy themselves to save their partners. They nearly had, spared only by the arrival of more guardians. But Torak…

               Until now, Torak hadn’t breathed a word of wanting anything from him. Edon hadn’t made any sort of advancements either, not with everything going on, but he’d assumed he’d be rejected and he’d simply move on with his life. But now… What was it that Torak wanted from him? What was it that he meant?

               “I don’t want you to be afraid of me, either.” Edon told him, his voice quiet as he slowly raised his eyes to Torak’s once more. “I want us to be stronger together too, but I don’t want to put you in danger.”

              He could practically feel his mind slipping off again. After everything that had happened, he hardly had the mental capacity to process any of what Torak had told him, but at the same time, if Torak wanted him… He needed to leave before he did something he’d regret. After everything that had happed, the situation with Torak was volatile. One wrong move could destroy all the progress they’d made here. Better he face the situation with a clear head than an overwhelmed one, even if they’d be risking their lives again tomorrow.

               “I’m going to go.” He told Torak, pushing back his seat to stand up. “I need time to think all this over.” He explained, standing and pushing his chair back under the table, doing his best to avoid Torak’s face as it fell. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

               He exited the apartment as quickly as he could, somehow making it back to his own apartment without turning around and returning to Torak's apartment, without returning to Torak and asking him for what he was likely unwilling to give.

Chapter Text

               It felt like Torak hardly got a wink of sleep before they left for the Dreaming City late that morning. In reality, it was far from it. After everything they’d gone through, after Edon had left his apartment, he’d dragged himself into his shower, then had promptly collapsed in his bed. He’d slept for hours, yet when he rose to his Ghost gently nudging him awake, it felt as though he’d only just closed his eyes.

               But sleep was the least of his worries. He hadn’t quite realized what Damian had told him the night before until he was buckling himself into his strongest armor, applying all the modifications he could to aid him in the battle to come. He was going to fight with them, to fight Riven, a powerful monster that could quite literally sense wishes. The prospect terrified him, but he tried not to think too much about it as he dressed, securing his mark at his waist as he tucked an extra knife into his belt. Time seemed to be moving too fast, he didn’t feel ready. Before he knew it, he was in his ship, zipping towards the Dreaming City, and not long after that they stood in the Divillian Mists, just before the massive building that led into the center of the space, carved out of the tall rocky craigs before them.

               The Corsairs had cleared the area before the mists, and had worked with the Guardians flocking to the city to clear out the mess of Hive that had attacked them the day before. Damian had briefed them about it on the way over. Apparently, the fighting had lasted hours, only concluding a few hours ago. Guilt flickered in his gut when he spotted the Corsairs, perched atop rocks or nestled within the craigs, others resting within caves, some circling the area on foot, keeping track of the various warriors. They’d agreed to keep the area clear for as long as they could, as long as they needed to defeat Riven. Nothing could interfere with what they had to do, and they certainly couldn’t handle another battle like the one they’d gone through the day before.

               The day before…Torak’s mind was still reeling from it. Unlike his battle with Edon the other day, he’d been able to get out of it without completely exhausting his Light, though he had used enough of it that he hadn’t been willing to drain the last of it on healing himself after they’d gotten out. It was the only thing that had allowed him to be at this battle today. Edri had been able to heal him as soon as he’d risen that morning. He felt just about as good as new now…or at least as close to it as he really could be with his mind still racing. Even though he hadn’t exhausted his light, he’d still nearly died. He had died, but it felt like he almost had permanently. Estella and Praxedes nearly had. It was why they weren’t fighting with them, because they weren’t strong enough to, because it was too dangerous, because after nearly dying they had no choice but going out and fighting another day, risking their lives all over again.

               It was still hard to wrap his head around. He’d heard Akshay asking Damian why they couldn’t wait, right after he’d announced Praxedes and Estella wouldn’t be joining them. The answer had been understandable enough. If the Hive ambushes were to become a pattern, they couldn’t allow them the time to rally their forces again. They had to move immediately, while the Hive were still reeling from the losses they’d taken the day before. Torak could see the logic well enough, but he needed time. After everything that had been happening, all he wanted was moment of calmness.

               All he wanted…he shut the thoughts down quickly. He couldn’t want, not when they were facing something like an Ahamkara. A dangerous monster that could literally sense a person’s wants and desires. But how could he stop wanting things? He wanted a moment of peace and quiet, he wanted to not be attacked by the Hive, he wanted to fix everything that had happened with Edon last night. After everything he’d said, Edon had just walked out on him. Torak hadn’t exactly confessed to him—he’d been far too afraid to do that—but he’d certainly hinted at it. Rather obviously he might add. And Edon had left. Perhaps that’s what he’d been so afraid of, he’d been afraid of Edon as a way of sparing himself, keeping himself from getting attached to him to spare him from any hurt feelings. But heartache was one thing, what he’d been afraid of had been…mortal. He wasn’t sure he’d ever understand it. He wasn’t sure he wanted to.

               He shoved those thoughts away again. He was risking his life anyways, he had better things to be afraid of. Even if Edon’s walking out on him last night probably should have been enough to let him drop the subject completely…probably wasn’t good enough if he was risking his life. Probably wouldn’t keep him from wishing.

               The thoughts roared though his head as his eyes found Edon. They were standing on the ornate threshold to the massive building before them, standing atop a massive walkway of precious rock, a long, unbroken slab. Torak could only fathom its worth, not that wealth was on his mind, of course. Near the front of the walkway, just before the massive doors that had creaked open at their presence, Damian stood, speaking to Akshay, Tessa at his side. What they were discussing, Torak didn’t care, didn’t even bother to listen, even if it would have helped him in battle. Behind them, further from the looming building, Edon stood.

               He was dressed in his set of Vanguard armor, shaded with the blue and orange of the Vanguard, but paired with enough shining white that Torak could see the reflection of the gleaming stones in Edon’s broad chestplate. It wasn’t armor that Torak had seen him wear much before. If he could recall correctly, he’d only seen Edon wear it once or twice before, after the team had returned from a raid on the Leviathan, back when Torak hadn’t been skilled enough to go with him. Obviously, he’d infused it and strengthened it since then, but it was clear to Torak that the armor was very likely his most important set, well taken care of, well preserved and protected and maintained. It surprised him very little that the colors on his most powerful set of armor were those of the Vanguard, of the City Edon had dedicated his life to protecting.

               On his chest, however, a deep blue cloth sat, just barely peeking out over his chestplate, the rest of the cloth wrapped around the base of his neck. The fabric, he realized, was the same as the cloak that fell from Ada’s shoulders, shaded deep blue and dotted with little white constellations, shimmering golden arrows running above her spine. He almost dismissed the knife now sitting at Edon’s belt as something similar, another gift from his sister, only it wasn’t. He recognized it. It was his. His mind leapt back to days before, when Edon had dragged him onto his ship, after the other Titan had torn at his armor, Torak had given him his knife to cut it with. In everything that had followed, Torak hadn’t even realized he hadn’t returned it, and he hadn’t really questioned it being gone when he’d returned home, having enough extras already that one missing knife hadn’t bothered him.

               Each of the three pieces meant something, he realized quickly enough. He’d kept the colors of the City and of the Vanguard to communicate his commitment to them, his dedication. The same was true of the cloth at his throat, his commitment to his sister, to his twin. And Torak’s knife…he didn’t want to hope that it was some way of Edon returning what he’d said the night before, that he too wanted to fight with Torak, to be stronger together, to withstand the Hive and be like Damian and Tessa. He didn’t dare hope, yet as he stared, Edon’s eyes found his face, and when Torak snapped his gaze up, he found a little smile in them, and an apology.

               “Torak.”

               Damian’s voice beside him nearly had him jumping out of skin, or it should have. Despite the adrenaline that zinged through his skin so sharply it nearly made him itch, he couldn’t tear his gaze from Edon. Couldn’t get the man off his mind. The way he’d run off the other night…it probably should have been enough to convince him to give up, to stop trying. But that knife…

               “We’re going to go.” Damian was saying beside him. “Are you ready?”

               Torak was gone before he’d finished speaking, stepping away from the fireteam leader as he pushed towards the Titan across from him.

               Every step felt like he was being pushed forward, like a heavy wind was at his back, aiding his legs with every step that brought him closer to Edon. It elicited no fear in him, not when he knew he was the one fulfilling his own wish, and not that gods damned monster somewhere beyond them, the one that could likely sense his desire before he’d even truly understood it. He let his legs carry him close, so close until he stopped just in front of Edon, until he froze.

               Just as soon as he thought it was gone, fear wrapped around every part of him, like he was plunging into a pool of ice water. He froze just a step away from the other Titan, the other man’s attention now entirely on him as he opened his mouth to speak, then shut it, no words even capable of explaining.

               “Torak,” Edon said his name gently, tentatively, almost like a question. Torak could have laughed, bold vibrant Edon, he wasn’t sure he’d ever done anything tentative in his life. Yet he watched as he rose his arm with the same care, his hand very gently finding Torak’s arm and gripping it softly, as if worried he might jerk away. Just as he had so many times before. “Are you alright?” He asked. Quiet, soft, gentle.

               There was concern in his eyes, concern for Torak, but also worry, worry like he feared he’d overstepped his bounds, and yet his hand remained. His grip tightened, just a little.

               “I just—” Torak broke off quickly, his mind reeling at how he could possibly feel Edon’s hand so clearly though his armor, like there wasn’t metal and gloves and plating between their skin.

               “I wanted to say I—”

               “I’m sorry for last night.” Edon interrupted, and all thoughts went out of Torak’s head as he returned his gaze to Edon’s face. It had softened in what almost looked like pain. “I shouldn’t have run off on you like that. After everything you said I just panicked and I—”

               Torak could hardly hear his words, he could only see Edon standing before him, hurt now so clear on his features as he voiced the words, and he couldn’t stand it.

               He moved faster than he could think, Edon’s hand instinctively releasing him as his arms shot up, his hands knotting themselves in the scrap of fabric on Edon’s chest. He pulled Edon towards him just as he leaned in, too fast to second guess himself, too fast for fear as he shut his eyes tight and their lips collided.

               But only for an instant, only for a brief moment before he pulled back, his eyes open wide and searching. His heart pounded, his stomach plummeting to his toes as he beheld the look of shock on the other man’s face, and he waited for it to turn to something like anger or disgust, waited for Edon to lash out at him or shove him away. Instead, Edon only blinked, and a gloved hand came up to the back of his neck, and suddenly they were crashing together again.

               Crashing. It was the only way he could hope to explain it. Like waves crashing onto the rocky shore, Edon’s lips found his again and again. His mind was crashing, too. Fear and hatred and everything he’d used to keep these feelings contained for so long, crashing against the shield he’d erected around his mind, the wall he’d built to keep those thoughts out, to banish them, to tell them they had no place within him. Years of pain and suffering for nothing, all those warnings and fears for nothing, or for everything as they led him precisely to this moment. To Edon, with a hand on his neck and the other at his waist, tugging him close just as intently as Torak had moments before.

               It was like the answer to a question he hadn’t even realized he’d been asking. They moved like music, a call and response between different instruments, different voices coming together to create a perfect melody. Two parts of the same whole and fear had no place. There was no hesitation in Edon’s hands, in Edon’s lips as he held him, and Torak had banished his own with it. His fear had fled the moment Edon’s hand had brushed the back of his neck, and Torak hoped it never returned.

               When they finally pulled away, Torak was gasping, and Edon was panting with him, his face lit up in a broad grin. Torak couldn’t fight his smile at the sight of it, not that he wanted to, even as his face flushed red with embarrassment.

               “Wow.” He breathed. He hadn’t been planning to say it, but he was glad he did as Edon’s grin grew and he tipped his head back to laugh, bright and happy and beautiful. Torak’s ears went red with the look he gave him afterwards. No one had ever looked at him like that. Like he was the thing that mattered most in the world. Like he was worth all the trouble in the world.

               A light cough behind him had him snapping out of his reverie, and he jerked to look back, his entire body tensing as reality returned to him. He’d forgotten where they were, forgotten about Riven and their mission, forgotten that there was more to the world than just him and Edon.

               It was Akshay who had coughed, a light little smile on his face amid his look of shock. Beside him, Ada was positively gaping at her brother, her eyes wide, even her mouth was hanging open, her face more expressive than Torak had ever seen it. Damian was gaping as well, his eyes darting between the two of them, his brows high. Damian had been the one to bring him into the fireteam, and the one to initially pair him and Edon together for training. Torak supposed he hadn’t expected this turn of events.

               Tessa was the only one who didn’t look shocked, though she still wore a little smile on her face as well. She rolled her eyes at Damian, but her smile remained. Torak was glad to see it. Even if he was embarrassed, after everything that had happened, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her smile. He watched as she shook her head to herself, then adjusted her helmet under her arm, elbowing Damian and nodding to Akshay, who in turn squeezed Ada’s shoulder.

               “Whenever you two are ready.” She told them, giving him a little nod as she led the group towards the massive building ahead of them.

               Torak watched them go without a word. Edon was still holding onto him, a hand still on his waist, the other holding the back of his neck. As the group moved further away, Edon’s hand crept up, gloved fingers brushing over the base of Torak’s skull, up, two fingers finding the end of his braid and pulling on it lightly. He tried not to lean into the touch, and Edon laughed again.

               With the others gone, he turned back to Edon, finding the other man watching him, as if he’d never even looked away. His eyes were focused, intent, and they flicked down to Torak’s lips with a little smile. He bit his lip as he tried to contain it, and Torak wasn’t sure he’d ever been more attracted to anyone.

               He leaned forward again, lightly pulling Edon along with his hands still knotted in his little scarf. Edon hummed in approval, and their lips met softly, gently, nothing like it had been before. Every movement was kind and slow, each of them giving each other plenty of control as their lips met. It was calm, it didn’t end in gasping or panting, just Edon’s forehead resting against his, Edon’s curls tickling his skin.

               “How long have you—” Torak began, his lips so close to Edon’s they nearly brushed as he spoke.

               “Since the moment I met you.” Edon interrupted, and Torak flushed. “I figured I would wait until this all blew over, but I’m glad you didn’t.”

               “Me too.” Torak hummed with a little smile, pulling back just enough to look into the other man’s eyes. The dark brown orbs were bright, glowing with a ring of gold as he watched him. It was as if they were lit up, as if his light was glowing and flowing from him, lighting him up from the inside out.

               He leaned in for one more kiss, one more kiss that Edon happily returned, one more kiss before he and Edon reluctantly pulled apart, and they headed towards those massive doors ahead of them. As Torak slid on his helmet, clicking the locks into place as Edon stood beside him, he realized he had no more wishes. Everything he’d wanted was only steps away, and he was perfectly happy to let it run its course.