Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

No matter what, you’d live and die a human.

That’s what you promised yourself after your arm had been slowly turning into something resembling the demonic monsters that tore the earth apart. Beginning at the hand and traveling up your arm, your once soft flesh became an amalgamation of leathery skin and sharp black claws, with some small horn-like protrusions poking out. The shift in weight noticeably altered your gait, making your back hurt along with making balance more interesting.

You debated cutting it off somehow. But there was no way to know if it would stop the spread, then you’d still be cursed and short one arm. Would you turn into a demon if you died?

Eyebrows furrowed slightly. You decided not to entertain the thought further, at least for now. You had more important things to focus on at the present moment.

Namely, your ingenious “hunting” method you devised. Which involved covering yourself in a pile of dead leaves and scrap fabric sprinkled in stale Twinkie crumbs. A larger crumb of cake was positioned in your hand which lay flat like a bear trap. The hard part was waiting for a swarm of pigeons to be enticed by the bait so you could snag one, you could only tolerate laying stone-still on the hard ground for so long.

A particularly large pigeon finally noticed the bait in your hand and inched closer, your nerves becoming even more on edge at the sight.

‘C’mon, stupid bird. Just a little closer…’

The pigeon finally hopped close enough to your hand, and you seized your chance (and food), your claws sinking into its flesh, tiny bones snapping under your inhuman grip. The other pigeons flutter away in a flurry of coos and feathers.

With your next meal secured, you stretched your stiff muscles and made your way towards your makeshift home. “Home” being some building in a once inhabited downtown area where there was nothing left, for the demons at least. For yourself, you lived off scavenging food and supplies from abandoned shops, homes, and cars. The demons didn’t seem to have any interest in human stuff left behind, all the more for yourself.

You began mindlessly plucking feathers off the pigeon in your grip while walking, humming some song your memory still held.

As unsightly your arm was, it had some advantages in your new post-demonic-invasion lifestyle. The claws aided in opening canned food, and in scaling the sides of steep edges...and catching pigeons, apparently. Scavenging only got you so far, salvageable food was starting to run low for you. Starvation was becoming more of a concern by the day, the seeds of worry sinking its roots deeper into your conscience. But the ARC forces were bound to come along eventually…right? You’d heard on your radio of their relief efforts before the thing broke in a demon scuffle. If anyone could get you a chance at getting rid of whatever was happening to your arm, it’d be them. You didn’t care how long it took for the ARC to get to you, waiting was better than becoming one of those things. You didn’t want everything that you survived and endured to be for nothing.

No matter what, you’d live and die as a human.

Arriving at your hideout, you dressed and prepared the pigeon. The stoves had no power or gas, so cooking was limited to whatever could be made over a campfire at the cement rooftop of the building you were situated in. Digging into the cooked pigeon meat, you made a small noise of surprise at how close it tasted to chicken. After your very luxurious dinner, you allowed the fire to burn longer, hoping that the smoke would alert any wandering humans of your location. As per usual, you only saw windblown debris and the occasional wandering zombie.

You grimaced at the thing, putting out the fire and huffing back inside the building. Those fuckers ruined everything. Took everything. But they wouldn’t get you. Not you, your life, or your humanity. You angrily muttered your frustrations to yourself as you flopped into your makeshift bed.

‘If today's tech can put a brain in a cyborg, create portals between planets, and put a crazy woman in a cybernetic exoskeleton, then curing a demonic arm can’t be too out of the question…right?’

A wistful sigh escaped you.

“Life finds a way. I’ll find a way” you quietly assured yourself, before allowing your eyes to close until morning

—

In the silence of the fortress, The Slayer gazed at the ravaged earth, mindlessly fiddling with a shotgun shell between his fingers. He had just finished tuning up his arsenal and allowed himself a rare moment of rest, his thoughts wandering.

A thought occurred to him that he hadn’t interacted with anyone who wasn’t an A.I in a long time. Anyone he had considered a friend had been killed by the demons.

The thought of those monstrosities instantly got his blood boiling again.

He stood sharply from his workbench. Enough of this.

He’d partake in the surefire way to release any pent-up frustration and hatred, launch himself headfirst into the demon hordes and rip until he forgot what was weighing him down.

VEGA queued a portal, bathing the shiny metal floors in blue. With a pump of his shotgun and quick crack of his stiff neck, he leapt into the portal to earth.

Chapter Text

Being alone meant a lot of reflecting. Particularly when you wandered the streets, looking for anything salvageable. You didn’t exactly have anyone to vent your frustrations to. ‘That bitch Olivia Pierce and her creepy cult.’ You bitterly thought to yourself as you carry a bucket of water for boiling towards your hideout.

Before the invasion, you were an intern at the UAC, but you may as well have signed yourself up as a disposable lab rat under Olivia’s watch.

“Fuckin’ bitch.” You kicked a rock across the street.

Whatever project she assigned you to, it all went to shit. You recalled a white-hot pain in your hand, leaving a weird leathery burn mark on most of the flesh. The memory makes you clench your deformed hand, your climbing footsteps turning into heavy stomps as you storm up the stairs to the roof.

After that incident, you were shoddily patched up and sent back to work. Everyone assumed it was just a burn and it would heal. Until it didn’t. You made the mistake of confiding in Olivia, which only fueled her fanaticism of the hell dimension, rambling her nonsense about connecting the worlds and how Dr.Hayden couldn’t find out.

Her crazed, fanatic look flashed into your mind as you kindled the fire, wishing you could shove her face into the flames.

The rest was a panic-fueled blur. She and her cult drones chased you across the UAC until you barricaded yourself in a room with a functioning portal prototype. You mashed some coordinates to Earth and smashed in the keypad so she couldn’t follow you. The rest was history. The demons invaded earth, everything went to hell (literally), and yet you were still alive somehow.

You sighed, sat back, and set the water to boil. Eventually, the slow bubbling of the water calmed you slightly, allowing you to think towards a solution rather than how you’d like to make Olivia regret being born.

‘Hayden. Maybe he can help. If not, maybe have access to anything Olivia left behind.’ You hated to admit it, but if there was anyone who could fix you, it would be him, a former UAC leader.

You were abruptly yanked away from your thoughts by a distant popping sound. You strained to listen closer, then heard it again.

Gunshots. Was it the ARC?

Your eyes widened. Was this finally happening? All the toiling, all the struggling, it was finally about to pay off. Heart fluttering at the idea, nerves electrified with hope again. You shot up in an instant, hastily prepping and tossing an oil-soaked rag into the flame to make the smoke darker.

Only one thing left to do. Scrambling down the stairs of your building, you looked for a way to cover your arm just in case things went south.

—

The squelch of the Slayer’s blade into corrupted flesh was therapeutic in its own way. So was absolutely decimating limbs and breaking spines like twigs. He couldn’t get enough of it. Today’s “rage session” was underwhelming, unfortunately. No towering hell tyrants or slippery prowler demons to add variety, only fodder hordes of subpar intelligence.

The last demon of the horde was firmly gripped by the neck, a ghost of a thrill rushing through the Slayer. He smirked under his helmet at the demon uselessly flailing its arms to grab at him, before he slammed its skull into the concrete and flattened it with his boot.

Finally, the shell of a city was quiet again, he allowed his tense shoulders to relax. He took a moment to observe the broken cityscape and stopped when an unusual sight in the distance popped into his view.

Smoke?

It wasn’t unusual to see a smoldering flame remaining on the demon-ravaged earth, but it was odd seeing smoke this dark. He craned his neck to see, moving closer to the source of smoke. Peering through the scope of his assault rifle, he was able to get a closer look at the source. A campfire came into view, with a bucket of water positioned over it.

It wasn’t a result of the demons, it was man-made.

He heard footsteps echoing off the empty street, running towards him. Instinctively, the Slayer readied his gun.

Vega’s voice pinged. “Wait.”

Wait? As puzzled as he was, he had little reason to distrust VEGA. His gun was lowered slightly, but attention sharpened as whatever was running at him emerged into view.
__

“Hey!”

Peeking from the side of a building, you waved your human arm around, other arm wrapped in a “cast”. From where you were at the opposite end of the street, you could see they were decked-out in some green armor you didn’t recognize.

The green figure stopped and lowered the barrel of their gun all the way to the ground. You took that as a sign it was safe to make your way towards the figure.

“Are you with the ARC?”

The suit shook its head.

…

Silence. You slowed your approach.

“Uhm…I’m not sure where you’re headed but if you have a way of contacting the ARC, I could really use that right now.” You raised your “broken” arm slightly.

…

Still nothing. You stopped walking.

Green suit approached slowly, helmet looking at your arm before stopping a few feet away without a word. Standing this close, you were daunted at how huge they were. A crackling flash of blue made you jump. A portal had opened behind them. But where was it leading to? If whoever was in the suit wasn’t with the ARC, should you not go in? What if-

Your good arm was grasped lightly, and you were led towards the glowing blue portal. Shit. You dug your heels and locked your legs, trying to push the green figure away.

“I-I’m fine, really! I just need to-“

Despite your struggle, you were pulled easily into the spinning blue void. Stumbling forward, you were disoriented at the sudden change of scenery. After coordinating yourself again, you found yourself in a base of some sort, with functioning technology and interior looking untouched by any demonic threat. Looking to the side, a window looking out to the earth met your vision.

You were in space?! Your stomach twisted, were you getting dizzy? When the green suit entered through the portal, you realized no one else was around.

“Wh…-ahem- W-Where are we?” You rasped. Nice, very confident.

Again, no response. Not even a physical sign that you were heard at all.

‘Why won’t they speak goddamn it?!’ You hollered internally. You were about to follow up with another question until a robotic voice cut through the quiet.

“I have detected a demonic presence from your guest.”

Chapter Text

“I have detected a demonic presence from your guest.”

Shit.

“Wait, I can expl-“

Before you could blink, you were immediately grabbed by the throat and hoisted off the ground. You scrambled and gripped the powerful wrist with your good arm.

They reached out their other arm and gripped the fabric of your cast. You heard tearing and felt your arm dangle out. Said limb joined the other in gripping the arm that held you up, claws weakly scraping against the metal armor.

You were exposed.

“Wait…please…” You wheezed, head beginning to throb. You struggled to look into the helmet for any indication of mercy. You could only see your panicked and reddening face reflected back at you.

For a while, that was how the both of you remained. Head painfully throbbing and vision blurring at the edge. You fully expected to pass out until you were dropped on your ass like a sack of dirt. You collapsed on your back, gasping. Oxygen flowed back into your lungs, your limbs splayed out on the cold floor. You tilted your head to the side at the figure who had almost strangled you.

They stood. Waiting

After catching your breath, you told them everything. The incident with Olivia at the UAC, the early signs, the progression, the escape. The entire time you fidgeted and choked back tears, feeling humiliated enough for one day. It didn’t help that whoever was in the suit continued to not respond in any form. Did they not believe you? You finally allowed the last of your pride to fade away, desperate tears escaping your eyes.

“I don’t want to become one of them, I need to stay human.” You weakly uttered, eyes gazing into the helmet.

Again, no indication that you were heard, but somehow you could tell they were thinking. from the angle you were at, you swore you could see human eyes look at your arm and face repeatedly.

They finally stepped forward, you immediately braced yourself, shut your eyes, and prepared for your journey to end right in that moment. The figure gripped your arm, roughly pulled you to your feet, and began to drag you deeper into the depths of the fortress.

A button was roughly pressed, the noise making you whip your head towards it. The activated screen read “Demon prison”. Your chest tightened. So they couldn’t see who you were beyond your demonic arm, and were going to throw you in with the rest of hell’s creatures.

An elevator opened and you were pushed inside. The harsh grip on your arm not releasing even slightly as the doors slid shut.

—

‘This better not be a trick…’ The Slayer seethed.

He was going to put whatever mishmash of demon and human you were in the only place he could keep an eye on you; where he contained other demons he was saving to test his arsenal on.

The demons were bad, they were evil, he knows that for certain. They were empty shells forged from human suffering. He’d seen inhuman creatures that corrupted humans and turned them against the rest of humanity. A human slowly turning demon? He’d never seen anything of the sort. He also had never seen a demon cry. What the hell were you? He could easily do away with you and not have to deal with any of this, but if you were truthful about what you said…

He huffed under his helmet, quiet enough so you wouldn’t hear. Kill demons. Save humanity. That was his job. Of course things just HAD to get more complicated than that.
___

You heard the screeches of captive demons, your chest winding tighter and tighter as the elevator descended, heart beating so hard and fast you thought you’d literally die of fear right there. The demonic screeching escalated as the doors opened, a poorly-lit metal hallway decorated with cells. Shoved along the hall, you lowered your eyes, not daring to look at the monstrosities that banged and scratched at the cells that held them.

The sliding of a metal door made you cautiously move your stare. A containment cell. Thankfully empty. Already bracing yourself, your body lurched forward at the push of Green suit’s hand. The door closed, and you were alone again in the dimly lit cell. Until the door opened again a minute later. This time Green suit held a blanket, a pillow, and a silver canister.

Oh.

“Uh…thanks.” The bedding was tossed to you, the canister set on the floor, and they were gone in an instant. You screwed off the lid of the canister, water inside. This meant they still saw you as at least partially human. The thought coerced a relieved sigh from your chest, the tightness in your chest releasing slightly.

After sipping on the water for a bit, you folded the blanket to act as a barrier between you and the hard floor, and laid yourself back on the pillow. As much as your mind wandered, you did everything you could to go to sleep, knowing that you’d need every ounce of energy and mental sharpness for whatever the armored figure had planned for you.

___

After shutting the cell door, the Slayer’s mind was still piecing together what to make of you. Your uneasiness around the other demons was evident, was it an act? How long until you would transform yourself into a hellish beast? Something nagged him when he first closed the cell that it was cruel to leave a…whatever you were without any basic needs. Sure, you looked human, but…

He grumbled to himself, deciding to prioritize preparing for his next mission.

The blankets and water were so you could have enough energy for tests and questioning, that’s all…

____

You were jolted awake by the metallic clang of the cell door opening once again. Without a word exchanged, you stood and cautiously stepped towards the opening of the cell. You tensed slightly, expecting to be gripped by the arm again, only for green suit to step towards the end of the hall. Not being yanked by your arm, the two of you silently walked down the hall to the elevator, only the faint growling of demons to accompany the sounds of footsteps. The elevator ride even more stiflingly silent, your anxious gaze was frozen to the light that flickered through the crack between the doors, wondering if whoever or whatever was inside the suit was doing the same

The elevator opened, and again you were led into the bowels of the fortress to a room that was sterile looking and smelled of antiseptic. You deduced this was a sort of medical exam room. There was a single place to sit with a cabinet next to it. Walking closer to it, you could see a small portion of something hot, steam rising from it. Oatmeal. Regardless of how you felt about the lumpy stuff, you were just thankful for a hot meal to warm your body after sleeping in the coldness of the cell. They left, allowing you to eat without being observed. Not being observed like a bug under a microscope, you shamelessly stuffed your face with the piping hot oats.

When they returned, you allowed green suit to examine your arm, though you weren’t sure if you really could stop them if you didn’t allow it. The occasional voice of the A.I chimed in with commands to remove this way or put your arm in a scanner, which you obliged. The whole ordeal made your chest feel heavy and your body constantly tense. only able to stare at the floor in shame as your arm was poked and moved around.

“I fucking hate them.” They stopped and tilted their head towards you. You continued, clenching your fists as you spoke “If they never existed then I wouldn’t be like this”. You huffed. “When I’m back to normal, I’ll make them regret setting foot on Mars. Or on Earth.” There was no response, not that you expected one. Your stare that you didn’t notice was pinned to the wall was pulled away at the sound of the figure opening the door, motioning for you to follow. Another elevator ride down, you were back in the demon prison. Instead of heading towards your cell, green suit stepped aside towards a different corridor.

Not wanting to be yanked by the arm you followed to a gigantic metal door. It lit up and slid open to a proportionally large room covered in all manner of marks and busted wall plating. A metal box-like thing emerged from a slot in the wall. There was something inside Something alive.

Was this a test? You looked back at green suit. Their head nodded. Turning back to the box, you clenched your human hand, wiggling the claws of your inhuman one. You weren’t like them, you’d prove it.

Out crawled an ugly red-brown thing that stood on two gangly legs. It sniffed the air, tilted its head, unsure what to make of you. You inched to one side, not letting your back be exposed. It had finally decided you weren’t a friend and unleashed a cry like rough metal bits being ground together. Nothing like any animal found on earth. Quickly getting into a stance a sports player might take, you waited for the thing to make the first move. It immediately launched itself at you, your whole body tensing itself. Tumbling your body out of the way, the thing barely missed your face with its claws. Getting this close to the thing, you saw its arms were exactly like your cursed one. Shoving off the ground, you looked from its arm to its face of rolling yellow eyes and gnarled teeth. Was this what you could become? You grit your teeth.

No. Never.

You wouldn’t allow yourself to become reduced to something so simple-minded and animalistic. In that moment, the rising of your hatred for the demon in front of you fortified every one of your senses. You readied yourself again just as the demon rushed at you. It leapt, but you were faster, angrier. A shout rang out and you raked your claws across its throat. The creature released a gurgling roar, its throat spewing vile blood like a fountain. It slumped to the ground, pathetically clutching at its throat, the thing was done for.

But that wasn’t enough for you.

You spotted a nearby rod-like piece of metal, likely broken off of some other containment device. it was quickly snatched up and gripped with destructive intent. The first swing against its skull elicited an ear-splitting shriek from the demon. The second, a bubbling gurgle deep within its throat. Swing after swing, the demon quieted its struggling until it ceased all noise, save for the squelching of its flesh whenever you struck it. Each swing just made you angrier, rather than placating you. You abandoned all rational thought, all you knew at the moment was how much you hated these things. If these fuckers never existed you wouldn’t have ended up like this. You’d be with your friends and family again. You’d be normal. You’d be happy.

The demon had long since disintegrated, but you kept swinging the rod through angry tears, even as the sound of metal on metal repeatedly echoed across the chamber. Until you tried to swing again, but the rod wouldn’t move. They had grabbed the rod when you brought it up to swing. Enough, their grip seemed to say. You released your grip on the rod and slumped to your knees.

“Sorry…I just…I hate them.”

Fists clenched in your lap, your anger began to lower to a simmer, as embarrassment started to bloom in your chest. You probably looked like a child throwing a tantrum, or some unhinged animal. How was that going to help your case in proving you weren’t dangerous?

A touch to your shoulder made you turn to look up at the armored figure.

They gave a slow nod.
I understand.

The A.I chimed, startling you slightly. “Observation complete. You may now exit the testing grounds.”

The hand was removed and you stood. “So…Now what?” Your question was met with a wordless motion to the door. Despite how visceral your anger felt in the heat of the moment, you felt calm leaving the chamber. While your detest for anything demonic had not subsided, the many months of stewing in your own anger were forgotten for just a moment.
____

Chapter Text

Now outside of the demon prison, you took a moment to study the interior of the fortress, seeing if you could get any more hints about whoever was in the suit, as well as if anyone else resided in the fortress. The interior was gothic, yet technologically advanced. Glimpses of armor and other oddities were caught briefly, though you were unable to study them further as you tried to keep up with the wide steps of green suit. Whatever corridor you ended up in had various armor and weapons scattered about, many appearing as though they were artifacts. Green suit stopped in front of an empty rack.

‘Are they going to…?’

Hands raised towards the helmet, they were taking it off. You felt lightheaded with anticipation. Were they a human? Monster? Alien?

The helmet slid off, it was a human man.

At the sound of your relieved breath, his eyes locked with yours. They were green, like his armor. Darting your eyes over the rest of his face, you saw a sharp nose and jaw. Various scars littered his face, not that you were particularly alarmed, the guy kept demons in his basement, after all.

“Uh…Hi…?” You cringed at the way you made a basic greeting sound like a question. After that stellar introduction, you told him your name, and waited for him to tell you his…only for him to grunt and go back to removing his armor. You opened your mouth to ask for his name, only for your voice to lose all functionality at the unveiling of thick, firm muscles. Your eyes widened, mouth still slightly open. ‘Oh fuck, he’s RIPPED!’ you thought to yourself. That was the arm that dangled your whole body like a ragdoll? He grunted and you snapped your prying eyes back to his face, shit, did he see you staring? There was a bundle of clothes in his hand. Looking down at yourself, demon blood was soaked into the clothes you wore. You probably didn’t smell too great either, was this his way of saying that you looked like shit?

“Thanks.” You took the clothes in his hand. Pulling them closer to you, the fresh scent of laundry soap made you raise them towards your face to inhale the scent deeper. His head nodded towards something. A bathroom. You shuffled inside and gawked at the shower like it was the greatest invention humankind had ever conceived. Bathing on earth consisted of heating a bucket of water over the campfire for rinsing off soap, no soaking tubs or hot showers. You popped your head back out of the bathroom. “Can I use your shower? I haven’t had a real one in…” you pondered for a moment,“…a while.” He raised an eyebrow, but nodded. You awkwardly grinned, thanked him quite enthusiastically, and dashed into the shower, practically ripping off your dirty garments.

Audibly groaning, the soreness in your spine took a backseat to the blissfully hot stream. Stepping out of the shower, you felt brand new, like your whole body had gotten a tune-up. The clothes you were given were a little big on you, but you didn’t mind, it made it easier to slide your misshapen limb through the sleeve. Exiting the bathroom, the air of the fortress was quite frigid compared to the inside of the shower, making you shrink into yourself to conserve heat.

He (whoever he was) turned his attention from the armor he was arranging to observe you as you entered. Suddenly becoming self-conscious under his steely gaze, you were now acutely aware of your current appearance for the first time in a while. Wet hair, baggy clothes, tired eyes, posture a bit crooked. You had forgotten to put your shoes back on, your knobby and bruised ankles now on full display. Nothing reflective was nearby, but you could only assume that you looked like a drowned rat. You attempted a bit of humor to lighten the mood, “I’ll never take hot water for granted ever again!”. He hummed in response, then stood, motioning for you to follow.

‘Back to business.’ you supposed. You began ascending a flight of stairs, ignoring the coldness of the metal on your feet. “So…what’s your name?”.

The disembodied voice of the A.I spoke “The Slayer prefers not to disclose his identity at this time.”

“The Slayer?” You repeated.

He turned his head to you, with a look that said is that a problem?

“Alright, then.” Fine by you, as long as you stayed on his good side, names hardly mattered. “Do you have a name, Mr.Robot?”

“I am Vega, the Slayer’s personal A.I. You may remember me from the time you spent interning at the UAC Mars facility.”

This was the same A.I on Mars? Your heart leapt, you stopped and looked up excitedly,“Does that mean you can-“

Vega cut you off, “Unfortunately, I do not have the necessary information to help cure your demonic limb. The incident you described with Olivia was also not reported, there was likely no record of it before the facility was destroyed.”

“Oh…” you continued ascending, head tilted down in defeat.

“However, I have prepared a live transmission to an ARC facility. You will be able to speak with a member of the facility for information.” Reaching the top of the stairs, your view was met with an imposingly wide window with a view of the earth, the same window you looked out of when you first arrived. Although it was scarred from the demons that plagued it, the earth remained a beauty that left you in awe. The Slayer cleared his throat ahead of you, just now realizing you had stopped walking with him.

“Sorry. It’s not every day I get to see something like that.” You caught up with him, bare feet softly echoing across the giant room.

The Slayer gestured to one of the many command consoles and stood behind it, out of view. A chair was pulled up, you took a seat in front of the many buttons and keys. Reflected in the monitor, you saw your disheveled face. Had you gotten thinner? Before you could evaluate, the screen lit up with a live feed. A woman in a lab coat was on the other end, you assumed a medical professional of some sort. She introduced herself, though your scattered mind wouldn’t retain her name. You stated your name, and that you weren’t comfortable disclosing a location at the moment.

Talking to another person again was jarring, you couldn’t help but feel like much of your conversation skills had receded. Nonetheless, you began to tell her about the situation concerning your demonic ailment, hoping you didn’t sound like a crazy person. Strangely enough, having the Slayer nearby made you feel the slightest bit more secure in your words. Since it seemed he trusted your story, knowing at least one other person believed you made things easier to verbalize.

“I have reason to believe that Dr.Hayden might know how to fix my situation.”

She furrowed her brows ever so slightly. That can’t be good. “Dr.Hayden’s body is currently offline, and has been for some time. While we are working on getting him back online, we can do what we can to help with our current crew on hand.”

Your heart sank, but quickly decided you’d have to take what you could get. There was bound to be something there that could help. Certainly a better chance than waiting around by yourself again.

You sighed, a bit defeated “That’s…fine. That’s fine.”

“I will need a few days to get approval and make necessary preparations. Are you able to wait until then?”

You looked towards the Slayer. He nodded. You turned back to the monitor, “Yes, I can manage.”

“There is one more thing…”, Her voice lowered, sounding stern. “At this moment, demonic activity has been growing substantially near our area, it will be difficult to assist you in getting into the facility.” Her face turned sullen. “Essentially, you will be responsible for getting yourself to us, I’m afraid.

The Slayer nodded again.

“We’ll manage.”

“We?”

Whoops. “I’ll uh…be escorted.” You hoped, at least.

With that, she said that you would be contacted again if or when you could make your way to the facility. You both signed off, leaving you staring back at your disheveled self again. Despite being closest to your goal in a long time, uneasiness bubbled in your chest. You looked down to your lap, the anxiety that ran through you causing your shoulders to tense and your fists to bunch the fabric of your shirt. Had you gone too far in assuming he’d take you there? You were already causing him enough of a hassle.

A light shake to your shoulder made you look up at the Slayer. He didn’t appear angry, but had an expectant facial expression.

“This is…a lot. Sorry.” You meekly muttered, looking down at your bunched fists again, not wanting to potentially see his face morph into something angry if you said the wrong thing “I don’t know if I can get there on my own, and I could slow you down if you go with me. What will happen if I-“

“You won’t.” Your head shot up. His voice was startlingly deep. It cut through the air like thunder and made your running thoughts screech to a halt. The hand on your shoulder squeezed lightly. The same way he had comforted you after your meltdown in the demon prison.

You nodded as confidently as you could despite the worry that remained trapped within you. “Okay.”

Of course. This guy was built like a wall and armed to the teeth, as you deduced from the many weapons that were displayed around the fortress. You’d held your own for this long after all, so you couldn’t be too much of a burden.

“Show me how to fight those things, then. I can’t stand by and let you do all the work, can I?”
___

He had you start at square one, showing you how to shoot a small gun, one that you could hold with your human hand. Occasionally stepping in to correct your stance, he snuck glances at your clawed arm, contemplating its potential in battle.

He watched as you whispered a celebratory “yes!” to yourself as you hit a target. You looked over at him, he gave a thumbs up, the act tilting the corners of your mouth upwards.

It was his job to protect humanity from the demons, it would go against his purpose to allow you to succumb to demonic possession. If he turned you away, it’d surely haunt him, he didn’t need anything else weighing on his already burdened conscience.

While watching over your stance, he was aware of your more human qualities, and the effects of fending for yourself had on your body

When you had stepped out of the shower, something stirred in his mind. Concern, it must have been. With the blood and dirt washed away, your skin appeared pallid, your eyes a bit sunken in. Vega’s earlier scans indicated early signs of starvation. He’d have to make sure you were fed something substantial, nutritional. The way you walked was noticeable to him, your gait weighed to the side of your demonic arm.

He grimaced. ‘That can’t be good on the spine…’

It would be impossible to have you at peak strength within a week, but he’d at least prepare you for the journey ahead. The ARC would likely get you back to full health when you arrived, along with your arm getting treated. He’d see to it personally that you don’t become another pawn of hell.

Placing down your weapon, you yawned and stretched. “What time is it?”

Vega chimed, “It is 11:30pm based on the location you were last on earth.”

“I’m about ready for bed, you?”

He hardly needed sleep or food, but that was a conversation for another day. He simply pretended to consider, then nodded. Exiting the testing area, you turned towards your cell in the demon prison. The Slayer’s hand grabbed your arm to stop you, careful not to hurt you.

“Oh, not there?” Not that you were complaining. You followed him into the elevator back up and through the massive fortress. Finally reaching a room with an intricately detailed door with a skull-like motif on it. The heavy door swiveled open. The room was dark, but you could make out a bed in the corner of the room. You ran your fingers over the pristine sheets.

‘Oh my GOD, this is so soft!’ You nearly squealed out loud.

“You’re sure?” He nodded.

Didn’t need to tell you twice. You tumbled onto the bed, the soft sheets enveloping you in such comfort it was almost alien to you. Already your eyes began to droop, your muscles softening. Seeing as you were quite comfortable, the Slayer began his exit, until your voice softly followed him.

“Hey, wait.”

He stopped, turned to see you had sat up at the edge of the bed.

“Thanks again for all this. I know this must be complicated for you, and I’m…I’m really grateful.” You square your shoulders and look into his eyes, determined to communicate just how much gratitude you had to give. “I don’t have much right now, but you bet I’ll return the favor if needed. Somehow.” You shrugged. “I’ll ask the ARC folks to do you a favor or something, deal?”

He curtly nodded, and left to prepare for his next mission. Striding to his armory, his mind wandered away from strategy towards something of curiosity.

You were a fighter, a survivor. The odds were stacked against you, yet you braved it all to see another day. Although he held some admiration for your perseverance, he held ever-burning hatred for the demons that forced you to struggle to survive in the first place.

He’d make sure your struggle was worth it.

Chapter Text

Awake. This time blissfully so. You awoke from the kind of sleep that had you waking up light as a feather. Your body had the same tuned-up feeling you experienced when you had that first “real shower” in forever. You slowly sat up and stretched your arms towards the ceiling, a satisfying crackle running up your spine, the sound alerting Vega.

“Good morning. I take it you slept well?”

“Heh, yeah.” The room was still dark from when you fell asleep. The bed was also just as comfortable, maybe even more, if that was even possible. You lay yourself back on the delightfully plush pillow, five more minutes couldn’t hurt…

“Before you rest any further, I must recommend you eat something first.” Food did sound pretty good at that moment. “Hmm…okay...” You slid out of bed, one hand outstretched to find the door. Opening the door, the bright light in the hall assaulted your groggy eyes, your entire face scrunching at the harsh light.

“Where’s green man?”

“The Slayer is tending to personal business on earth. He will be back in time. If you walk towards your left…” Vega led you through the winding halls to a small kitchen area.
__

After a hearty breakfast, you lounged in the control room of the fortress, sipping a warm drink while listening to previous ARC broadcasts to catch up on what you’d missed since being stranded. All was fine until you nearly choked on your drink when the Slayer was mentioned in the recordings. You were surprised at how they spoke of the Slayer, like he was some cryptid or mythic figure. Who IS this guy, anyway?

“Vega, pause.” The recording stopped and your mug was set down. “Why are they talking about him like that?” Vega had no face or body, yet you still looked up as though you could converse with him face-to-face.

“The Slayer has made a noticeable impression on earth for his effort in combating the demonic threat.”

“Does he work for the ARC?”

“No.”

“Who does he work for?”

“He is not affiliated with any organization. The Slayer operates under his own methods and principles.”

“How’d he get all this then?” You motioned around at the massive fortress. “Where did he…come from? Like, how did he become, ‘the Slayer’?”

“I’m not sure if the Slayer wishes for that information to be shared at this time.”

Your gesturing arm flopped down in exasperation. What was with this guy and not revealing anything about himself? Vega detected your frustration. “I can assure you, however, that you will still be transported to the ARC when possible. Nothing has changed in regards to that.”

“Alright. Thanks Vega.” You half-heartedly mumbled.

You stood, grabbing your mug and returning it to the kitchen, something akin to worry burrowing it’s way into your conscience. Was Vega able to lie? Whatever the case, Slayer kept you alive this long, fed you, connected you to the ARC, and such. You couldn’t think of any reason for him to change his mind and throw you to the wolves.

__

With nothing to do in mind, you simply wandered around the fortress. You felt restless sitting still, post-apocalypse living had conditioned you to always be on the move. There were no resources to scavenge for or demons to be on the lookout for, causing your hands to constantly fidget, fingers running along the walls. Just the same as on earth, your thoughts were free to run about in your mind.

You told him everything about you truthfully, and proved yourself not a threat. So why did it seem like he still doesn’t trust you with anything about his identity? Was it too much to at least know a little about the guy who yanked you off earth before eventually hauling you off to the ARC? You didn’t even know his real name for fuck’s sake!

An exasperated grumble echoed in the empty halls. ‘This is going to be a looooooong few days if he’s so determined to reveal nothing about himself.’

Your thoughts then morphed to adapt a different perspective, making you feel a little ridiculous at your bordering on obsessive thoughts. Realistically, knowing more about him wasn’t necessary to get to the ARC. It didn’t really matter if you knew his name or story. But you still had that itch to know. Were you so lonely that any minuscule bit of human connection was exciting to you? You weren’t on your own for that long, right? Sure, you often felt your voice get hoarse from disuse on earth, but that could’ve just been dehydration…

Ugh, too complicated.

Eventually, your pacing around the fortress ended up back at the room you slept in, the door sliding open after sensing your presence. With nothing better to do, you entered, the lights were still off from when you awoke.

“Vega? Can you turn on the lights? The room became awash in artificial light at your request.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but the variety of items and accouterments of the space were unlike any room you had seen so far in the fortress. The weapons on the walls were expected, but the guitars and (rather impressive) pc setup? That was a bit out of left field. Looking around further, you spotted a chair overlooking a shelf with a vast collection of figurines.

“He’s a nerd?” You half expected Vega to answer your question. Stepping closer to the display, your toe brushed against something on the floor. Looking down, you saw a stack of comic books.

You smirked, amused. Yup. Definitely a nerd. Terminal nerdiness. You observed some more at the assortment and couldn’t help but widen your grin. This was the same guy who supposedly slaughtered demons by the thousands? As humorous as this all was, it was pleasant seeing all these little bits of personality scattered about. Untouched by the demonic plague, as though frozen in time from before the invasion.

Poking around further, you picked up a metal music album from the top of a stack. Did you like metal?

You slid the record out of its sleeve. ‘When was the last time I heard any music?’ You couldn’t recall.

“Vega? Is there something here that can play this?”

Vega directed you to a record player next to an old box-like computer. Loading it into the player, your fingers felt a little fuzzy with anticipation as you pressed play.

Exhilarating music sounded off a second later, startling you slightly. After the initial shock, the song was actually quite energetic and rousing the more you listened. Taking in all the different parts of the song for the first time made your body feeling the tiniest bit lighter the longer you listened. A flowy feeling of exuberance that had you tapping your foot. Tapping your foot turned into rocking your head. Which turned into head-banging. Which turned into full on air-guitaring. All culminating into a satisfying blood rush that for once was the result of a simple joy in life.
___

Returning from a particularly tough mission, the Slayer flung his equipment to the side one he cleared the portal. After the clattering echo of his equipment ceased, he noticed something was off. For once, the fortress wasn’t dead quiet, this time somewhere above silent.

‘What’s that sound?’

Helmet shucked off to listen closer. One of his music albums was playing. Following the sound, he was led to the room he left you to sleep in. Not hearing the door open over the cranked-up volume, you were full-tilt dancing like nobody was watching. Absolutely rocking out to metal music like there was no tomorrow. Jumping, head-banging, spinning around and-

You saw him standing there. When did he walk in?

You froze for an instant, looking at him like a startled animal in the headlights of an oncoming car, before scrambling to turn off the record player. As much as you tried to keep a neutral expression, embarrassment still stained your face. You could see him curl his lips inward, concealing a smile, making you all the more frazzled

“Stop-stop laughing!” He wasn’t. “I haven’t heard any music in a while, alright?” You huffed. “And…it’s a good song. I like it.”

He nodded and thudded his armored self over to the record player and resumed the stream of electric guitar riffs, nodding his head slightly to the beat. Turning back to you, he gestured his hand with…was that a smirk on his face?

Are you going to do that again or…?

“That’s enough of a show for one day. It was a one-time performance.” You joked, crossing your arms. He drooped his shoulders in joke disappointment.

“If you play me something on one of those guitars then MAYBE I’ll do it again.” Now was your turn to smirk, “Unless they’re just for show?” you playfully jabbed.

He narrowed his eyes. Challenge accepted. He lifted one of the guitars off the wall and readied it in his hands. The next song on the records started, and he was determined to play along with it. He was a bit rusty, but watching your face slowly become more impressed, he may as well be the best guitarist in the world…er, in space.

In that moment of just being, of two people letting themselves forget about their struggle, it occurred to the both of you that maybe things wouldn’t be too bad the next couple of days.

Chapter Text

Just as you hoped, the atmosphere was less tense now that you knew something about the Slayer beyond his demon-slaying profession. Said job meant he occasionally left for a few hours at a time, but he was kind enough to let you read his books and play his retro video games to occupy yourself while he was gone. You eventually made a habit of greeting him when he’d come back from his missions, which Vega had taken notice to.

“The Slayer will return shortly if you wish to meet him in the control room.” Vega monotonously alerted you. You paused the game you were playing and speed-walked towards the sound of a crackling portal.

“Hey.” You flashed a tiny wave. The Slayer didn’t return your gesture, as he had both hands behind his back. His head motioned for you to come closer.

“Whatcha got there?” 

When you were close enough to him, he brought his hands around to show you what he was hiding. He had brought back a pair of appropriately sized shoes in good condition. 

“Whaaa? Where’d you get these?” You gasped. “You got them just for me? I hope it wasn’t too much trouble.”

He shook his head, arm raising to rub the back of his neck. It’s no big deal.

“Thank you so much!” You quickly shucked off your raggedy shoes and plopped yourself down on a chair to slide on the new ones.

The shoes you wore before had seen better, less apocalyptic days. As each day on earth became more difficult, food had become more of a priority than comfort. The many distances you traveled for food had certainly done a number on your body walking around in tattered footwear. 

While you put them on, the Slayer watched in anticipation, hoping they were suitable. You’d need them for the journey ahead, after all. After sliding on your new footwear, you did a little dance in place. “I love ‘em!” You bounded over to the Slayer, “Now I won’t slow you down when we ship off to the ARC!”

Almost overwhelmed at your excitement, the Slayer’s nod was more shaky. Seeing your face so close and lit up with gratitude was causing an odd tingly feeling in his chest. It dawned on him that he had given you something beyond basic survival needs. A gift. Something that friends did, were the both you friends now? You weren’t really strangers anymore…

His attention was brought back by the sound of you jogging in place.

“Maybe you’ll have to keep up with me!” You whirled around,“Race you to the demon prison!”

__

The next time he returned from his usual bout of demon extermination, you practically flew across the hall to meet him. 

One eyebrow rose ‘That was quick.’ Was it because you had proper shoes now?

“You’re back!” You rushed over, a spring in your step. “I’ve got something for ya, follow me.” 

He tossed his weapon aside and followed you, removing his helmet and gauntlets along the way. 

When you lead him to the kitchen area, you zipped ahead to the counter to grab your surprise. Turning around, you held two mugs with a steaming hot drink in each.

“Instant-coffee-and-powdered-milk-latte!” You set one mug down and held the other out to him. “As thanks for the shoes.”

He didn’t really need to eat or drink. He could, but would rather save any food provisions for someone who needed it, like you. Not wanting to diminish the enthusiasm that sparkled in your eyes, he took the mug from your hand. His hand was so large it made the mug look tiny, as did your hand as he brushed his fingertips just slightly against your knuckles. Raising the mug to his mouth, he took a sip, the milk foam tickling his upper lip.

“Mmm…” he hummed in approval, wiping off the foam on his face.

“You like it?” Another hum, followed by a pleased smile, one that crinkled the edge of his eyes just slightly. You fist-pumped “Yusss. We did a good job Vega!”

“Excellent, I'm glad I could assist.” 

“Vega helped a little bit, so he gets partial credit.”

As you turned to grab your mug, the Slayer spotted a small splatter of coffee on your face. Without thinking, he reached his hand forward, thumb extended to swipe off the fleck of coffee. 

The squish of your cheek sparked some inner segment of his brain that had him subconsciously trying to remember the last time he had felt the fine texture of skin. The flesh he was used to touching was rotted, leathery, putrid, all manners of disgust. Not like yours. Warm, soft, lush. For a moment he expected you to shy away, to be frightened at his touch. 

Your eyes followed his thumb, not moving a muscle. Heat blossomed where his skin touched yours. It felt like your entire body focused itself in the one singular spot, on the feeling of his calloused thumb.

“Oh, whoops. Guess I got a little carried away, huh?” You quickly uttered, before taking a sip of your drink. Like hot desert sand, the warm spot on your cheek cascaded across the rest of your face. 

He too, felt the effects of the first skin-to-skin contact in ages. His fingers felt hot, and he was suddenly far more alert. He leaned against the counter, trying to appear as collected as possible despite the momentary spike in his heart rate.

After glugging down half your drink in an effort to focus on something else, you set your mug down on the counter a tiny bit too forcefully. “A-anyways after coffee, can you show me how to shoot some more?”

___

After your coffee break, it was back to business preparing you for the journey ahead.

Loading bullets into a weapon was difficult with claws, as was gripping a weapon with a not-so-human hand. You were limited to a plasma pistol that didn’t require loading bullets, but took time to cool down between rounds. Should a demon get too close, your clawed hand would make close encounters more manageable.

After a warmup shooting at simple targets, it was time to practice on the real deal. As rushed as it felt, you couldn’t allow yourself to be helpless should a demon attack happen. The thought of bursting open demon skulls was appealing as well. A few less demons around was a good thing, in your opinion.

The Slayer was positioned behind you with a weapon of his own. Should a demon get too close, he would dispose of it before it could lay a finger on you. He had also taken care to cover you in some padded chest armor and a helmet that smelled kind of musty, better safe than sorry.

“Okay. How’s this all gonna go down?” You asked, adjusting the fit of your helmet. 

As you were used to by now, Vega’s voice chimed to brief you. “You will be tasked to challenge a number of imp demons.. Each will be released one at a time until deemed appropriate to stop. In the event you are unable to subdue your opponent, the Slayer will intervene.”

“Alright.” You widened your stance, and readied your gun.

“Are you ready to begin?”

You breathed in. And out.

“Ready.”

With that, the first imp emerged from a slot in the wall. Yellowed eyes darted over your form, as though sizing you up. You wondered for a moment if these things could sense fear. 

Having enough of the standoff, the imp’s shrill cry filled the room and dashed towards you. You aimed your pistol. 

One. Two. Three bullets fired into its chest, it staggered backwards. Focus. Exhale. Commit. Just as the Slayer showed you.

A fourth shot split open the imp’s head like a melon, all manner of cranial viscera decorating the floor.

You peeked back at the Slayer. He shifted the gun in his hand to give you a thumbs-up. You returned the gesture with a small grin before focusing again on the upcoming monster.

The second imp to lumber out was nearly identical to the last, though its flesh appeared battered, in rougher shape. A second pair of yellow eyes darted around the room, but stopped when it saw the Slayer’s armor. Its beastly eyes narrowed, a low growl resounded as it inched closer to the Slayer.

Putting yourself between them, you did your best to look big, as though to scare off a wild animal. 

“Down, boy.” You ordered, aiming at its head. 

Before you could even think to pull the trigger, the imp lunged, literally using your body as a springboard to close the gap between itself and the Slayer. 

Losing your balance, you were thankful for the helmet as your head hit the floor. The feeling only lasted for a moment as you angled your head to see the imp charging at the Slayer.

Hell no. No way were they going to snatch away your only way out. You quickly gathered yourself and instantly rushed towards him without wasting a second longer.

As swiftly as the Slayer stepped to the side, the wildly flailing claws of the demon still struck his exposed bicep. Unfazed, the Slayer gripped the creature’s head and snapped it a full 180 degrees. All in a matter of seconds, the thing was culled by the time you made it to the Slayer’s bloodied arm.

‘Why’d he keep that part exposed anyway?’ You nearly panted out loud. Sure, his muscles were impressive but he didn’t have to compromise his safety! You began to panic, “We need to-”

No time. The next imp had crawled out, equally as pissed off as the last. 

Your first shot to its shoulder startled it, but quickly shook it off, somehow becoming even angrier. The sound of clawed feet dashing across the room compelled you to fire as fast as you could. Plasma shots burst through its flesh, yet it still charged. 

Click. Click, click.

The gun was on cooldown. 

“Fuck this thing.” You threw the pistol to the side. The imp quickly drew closer, you wiggled your claws subconsciously as you waited for it to get close.

The imp’s attack was stopped by your human arm gripping its wrist. Your claws thrusted forwards into its eyes, whatever squelching sound you expected to hear was drowned out by the demon’s scream. Yanking backward, chunks of rubbery brain matter clung to your claws. A kick to the imp’s ribs forced it to the ground where it pitifully grabbed at its face. 

Grabbing the discarded pistol, you put the creature out of its misery with a shot between its bloodied sockets. You watched as it disintegrated, the sound of its dissolving flesh was satisfying in some morbid way. 

“Training disengaged.”

‘Slayer!’ You dashed to him. Your gun clattered to the floor as your hands instinctively raised to put pressure on his wound.

You stopped centimeters away when there was only a minor pink scratch mark beneath the blood starting to dry. You swore you saw it cut to the bone, why did it look recently healed?

“How did you…” you trailed off, still trying to wrap your head around the fact his arm had miraculously healed.

He pulled his arm away.

Your eyebrows furrowed, hurt and confused at his gesture. Looking at your still raised hands, you were unfortunately reminded again of the more demonic part of you. The same kind of claws that just scratched him.

He took your still-extended hand, placing the pistol you dropped into it. You stared at it even as he rested a hand on your shoulder to reassure(?) you. Two taps from the hand on your shoulder prompted you to look up at him.

It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. 

You sighed, relieved that he didn’t seem angry at you, then re-assumed your position for training. 

If he wasn’t worried, then you shouldn’t be either, right? You decided you’d just forget about the incident, put it out of your mind to focus on the journey ahead.

___

You did not, in fact, put the incident out of your mind.

Later on, exhausted from training, you were trying to focus on a comic book while he tinkered with some piece of weaponry. As much as you tried to focus on reading, you couldn’t stop thinking about the incident of his miraculous healing. You saw him heal a cut in minutes, how could you just ignore that?

You fidgeted with the page corners of the comic book. Your eyes kept drifting to look at him, then snapping back to something else in the room in an attempt to divert your ever-curious thoughts. 

You finally broke. “Are you immortal?” 

He looked up from his work. Part of him knew this question would come up eventually. He looked to the side in thought for a moment, then waved his hand in a way that answered ‘ Kind of .’

What kind of answer was that?

“How’d you become ‘kind of’ immortal?”

“The Slayer-“ Vega started

His hand rose again to cut off Vega. He stood, you gulped. He slowly walked over to where you sat, this time not weighed down by heavy boots. Despite his quiet approach, your heart still drummed. Was he angry? Upset? Sad?

He stopped a few feet away, you could tell by his knitted brows he was mulling over something. He then turned to the wall of figurines and gathered some into his large hands. 

His story had likely been told numerous times on earth, though likely embellished with rumors and exaggerations. Whatever reputation he had on earth hadn’t made its way to you. You were a clean slate.

Dumping the assortment of items onto the floor, he continued to wrestle his thoughts within him. He was conflicted. His mind told him to not open himself up like this, yet some other part of him pushed back with some quiet but forceful need. A need that would remain stuck in his body unless he let it out. 

You sat at full attention, realizing he was now going to tell you his story, in his own non-verbal way. Once he had arranged the items to his liking, he held up a figurine wearing the same green armor he had, then pointed to himself.

“That’s you?” A nod.

He set down an album sleeve “Argent D’nur.”

“Are you from there?” He shook his head, gesturing his thumb to the earth visible through the window behind him

A hardcover book “Hell.”

A paper plate “Mars.”

After setting his marker on the “Argent D’nur”, he then placed more figurines beside it.

“Friends?” Another nod. A large figurine of a blobby-looking monster with guns for hands was introduced. You sensed right away what it meant “Demons.”

He nodded, pushing over the figures beside his marker, and removing them from the album. Dead. The demon still stood.

A plastic cup entered the scene. “Divinity machine.”, his figure was placed inside.

“Is that what made you so strong?” 

“Yes.” 

From there, he continued to unfold his past to you, Vega providing more detailed answers where appropriate. For once, a feeling of worry stirred in the pit of his stomach as he watched you piece it all together. Normally he cared very little of what other humans thought of him. Spilling his guts like this, would he become something other than human in your eyes?

“I…think I understand it now.” 

He had been through hell, quite literally. He lost his friends in hell, slept there for a long time, woke up on Mars, and put a stop to Olivia’s shenanigans. Only for Samuel Hayden of all people to betray him. Of course he did. 

He continued to flick his eyes across your features, trying to discern any indication of fear or disgust.

‘Maybe this was all a bad idea.’ His shoulders drooped.

He didn’t ask to be chosen to lead the sentinels. He didn’t ask for the trauma. As much as he fought to protect the earth, he didn’t ask to be the sole carrier of the earth’s fate.

“Hey, c’mon now.”

He hadn't realized he was staring a hole into the floor until your voice perked up.

“It’s okay. You’re not…bad.” You slid off the chair you were sitting in and sat on the floor in front of him. “It wasn’t your fault that your friends died. It’s nobody’s fault except the demons.” You scooted closer, “You’re still a cool guy.” Looking around at the assortment of action figures, you grinned just slightly. “And a bit of a nerd.”

He rolled his eyes, but smiled, relieved that you weren’t horrified by him.

“Plus, you seem human to me! Complete with a full set of human limbs, more than I can say for myself.” You reached out your hand and gave a light smack to his bicep. “Some pretty strong ones too!”

His heart pittered the same heated feeling flashed across his arm. He knew he was strong, but being complimented and recognized for it was…nice. 

“And hey, you gave me a chance after all that happened with the demons.” You continued. “To me, that means you’re human. It takes…depth, compassion, yknow?” You gestured to your heart to emphasize your point. 

His eyes bore into yours for any sign that you were insincere. Really?

You nodded. “Yes, really.”

His eyes softened, as did his heart. Depth, compassion. You were able to see that in him? 

“And once I’m all back to normal-“ you picked up an imp toy “Me.” 

The green figure “You.”

“We’ll stamp out those fuckers.” You stomped the feet of the figurines onto the demon toy.

A low rumbling chuckle reverberated in his chest. 

A laugh. A LAUGH! Your eyes widened. 

Sitting this close, you saw his finer features change as he laughed. How the corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled. How his shoulders shook lightly with his rumbly laugh.

Who would ever doubt he was human? 

Sure, he could turn demons to ground meat with his bare hands and recover crazy-fast from injuries. But the kindness and mercy he had bestowed to you, a mish-mash of human and demon, that couldn’t be anything else except humanity. 

Chapter Text

Another day, still no sign from ARC.

Things could be worse, though. You were still safe, warm, and well fed. Plus, your fortress buddy was pretty cool.

Conversation between the two of you had become more elaborate. He had warmed up to speaking to you more (albeit in very brief sentences) and allowed himself to be more expressive.

While you didn’t comprehend the intricacies of his traumatic experiences, you assumed his hesitancy to speak was a result of it. You didn’t mind, which was a relief for him. Little by little you adjusted to his non-verbal cues and mannerisms. Able to translate a look or gesture and respond rather fluidly.

Evenings in the fortress consisted of mealtime, training, and unwinding with tunes. You often read through his comic collection while he tinkered with his equipment. Tonight was no different.

The record reached its end, making The Slayer stand. He went to replace it with another. Holding up two albums for you to choose, he turned to where you sat, only to realize you hadn’t noticed the music had stopped.

You were staring off into the distance. No, out the window at earth. A hand on your shoulder startled you out of your thoughts.

“Oh! Sorry, I guess I spaced out.” You smiled just slightly at the unintended pun. Hoping that was the end of it, you flipped your comic book back into position.

Still, he pried. What’s wrong?

You looked towards the window again. “I guess I am getting a bit of cabin fever…fortress fever?” You fidgeted a bit with the edge of the page. “But I think it’s just nerves, y'know? Waiting for the ARC and stuff. Hoping things will turn out okay.” You turned your head back to him. “Not that I don’t like being here. This is much better than being out there alone.”

Silence fell, you saw his face indicate he was pondering over your response. He tugged on your hand, making you stand. You raised an eyebrow, but complied, allowing him to lead you to whatever he had in store for you.

His warm hand engulfing yours, you wondered if his massive hand would hold yours the whole way. Would you have minded if he did? He released after a few seconds. You slowly closed your now empty hand, the warmth still lingering. ‘Right. I know my way around, he doesn’t have to hold my hand…”

He led you to the portal device and punched in some coordinates before clicking his helmet on.

“Field trip?” A nod.

A whoosh and crackle sparked the portal open. He stepped forward, you followed. Stopping just before the portal he gently grasped your hand again long enough to lead you into a large step into the blue void.

Sunlight immediately followed in stark contrast to the dark blue swirl.

Blinded, you shut your eyes for a moment. Squinting them open, the metallic safe haven had vanished, replaced by earth's overgrowth.

The portal closed, allowing the faint ambience of abandoned overgrowth to make its presence known. There wasn’t much around besides tall grass and a few spots of trees that had seen better days. The air still had that stale, slightly sulphuric scent that permeated the air since the demonic invasion, but this time the metallic scents of a shuttered cityscape was replaced with a dry grassy smell. Like hay or a leaf pile.

Your shoulders began to tense. You had let your guard down after holing up in the safety of the fortress for so long. Now that you were outside again, the risk of danger was once at the forefront of your conscience.

Nature sounds used to be calming to you. The stillness only fed into anxiety, not knowing how long such stillness would last.

Still you inched a cautious step forward that made the grass rustle. Like a startled deer you stopped stiffly at the sound, swiveling your head, darting your eyes around. You looked back at the Slayer.

“Is it safe?” You breathed.

A helmet nod. Still, your body remained alert, shoulders refusing to relax, eyes still widened.

He motioned for you to come closer and you obliged, taking tiny steps. Once you were close enough, he raised his hands to his helmet and clicked the sides. Raising it off his head, he then rotated it and gently lowered the helmet onto your head. Your hands instinctively raised to grip the sides, your fingers brushing against his armored hand.

The inside smelled like the fortress, like him. Something like metal and cedar.

Although the helmet was way too big for your head, the front visor displayed a map with a tiny icon of an armored person. Vega’s voice filtered through the helmet’s interior speakers. “There is no detected demonic activity in this area, though I must recommend you remain near the Slayer.”

At the sight of your shoulders relaxing, he raised the helmet off your head, holding it at his side

In the light of the sun, his green eyes seemed to glow, beacons of safety against the hazy sky.

A small smile. See? It’s safe.

A thumbs-up. I’ve got you.

Relief. Though small, the corner of your lip raised in a timid smile.

“Okay.” You tapped your knuckles against his raised thumbs up in a sort of fist-bump. Turning around, you sucked in a quick breath and inched forward into the overgrowth.

Another rustling step. Then another. Looking back, the Slayer began to inch forward as well, grass rustling in unison. The grass was nearly up to your shoulders, his head stood far above the grass like some sort of bulky scarecrow for demons. With him as your shadow, you took your eyes off watching your step and observed the barely-alive forest. Trees with twisted and gangly branches like the skin of your demonic arm. The two of you walked in silence, only the shuffling of grass and stagnant breeze. Occasionally you turned around to check if he was still there, or to point at a funky-looking rock.

The Slayer observed your actions become less anxious and more curious as you took in the sights. The mannerisms of other humans were nearly lost on him, your movements however benign, might as well have been a new phenomenon to him. Your hand unconsciously raising to gently caress the tall grasses as you walked. How you occasionally looked off to the side looking for something that may be hidden in the sea of grass. If you looked to the side long enough, he could see the sunlight crystallized through your irises.

“Ouch!” You stumbled with a yelp, falling to the dirt.

He tensed, arm whipping to the side for a weapon.

“I’m ok!” You turned your now-grounded self around to see what had tripped you.

An old bike laying on its side, half buried in the ground. The parts of it sticking out of the ground were bent to all hell and covered in rust.

“Free bike, lucky us. You can fix this no problem, right?”

Looking up at his helmet, one side of his face gave away a slight smile even with his mouth hidden. He stuck out his hand and hoisted you back up. As you turned around to continue walking, something caught your eye through the dull brown of the overgrowth. Something bright. Squinting, you could just barely make out what it was.

“Hey, come look at this!” You darted off into the trees

As much as he wanted to admonish you for carelessly bounding out into the open, he was glad your initial fear had taken a backseat to your curiosity.

He followed after you, Man, you were fast.

Clearing the treeline, he nearly crashed into you. You stood in admiration at the sight in front of you. He followed your gaze.

Unlike the other trees, this one wasn’t so… dead. Tiny shoots of green at the tips, even a few blooms that scattered snow-white petals. Despite everything, it still forced its way into the harsh world to not be forgotten.

He moved to stand next to you, glancing at your face lit up in admiration. It was the first time he had seen you this awestruck at something, save for that time he played guitar for you…or when he caught you ogling his muscles. This was what he was fighting for. For humanity to thrive again without fear.

You met his gaze “Life finds a way, huh?”

He nodded.

The closer you approached, the faint scent of flowers grew a bit stronger than the musty scent of dried grass. You plunked down at the base of the tree and patted the space next to you. While most of the grass was dead, it still made for a nice cushion to sit.

“Have a seat.”

He pauses, then sits beside you, the ground vibrating as his armored self takes a load off.

As simple as this was, it was nice. The warm sun, the sweet scent of the flowering tree. The presence of the strongest human in the known universe. For once, you felt at peace again. Peaceful enough to close your eyes, for just a minute.

Just resting your eyes…
___

Fiddling with the dead grass, staring at the clouds, trying to look anywhere but your serene face. Still not used to the idea that someone could feel at ease around him.

And he wouldn’t acknowledge it, but he was going to miss it. Just a little.

Maybe a bit more than a little.

How for once, he could focus on something other than the fate of humanity resting on his shoulders. And what would happen if he failed.

A steel-strong will to match his own.

Most of all, he wanted to free you from your curse. If he could, he would feel some semblance of fulfillment.

he reached out and plucked a petal out of your hair. It was surreal to see himself use his hands for such a gentle task and not tearing apart demon flesh.

You were the closest thing to normal he had in a long time. To peace.

He released the petal into the breeze.

But it couldn’t last.

He sighed.

The last time he formed attachments, they were ripped away from him. His comrades. His family. Daisy.

__

After your little outing, the two of you return to the fortress in higher spirits. Vega notifies the two of you of an incoming live transmission.

The monitor displayed a video message. Looking closer, it was from the ARC.

The same woman as before speaks to you once you get into frame, “Hello again, I hope this message finds you well. I am delighted to inform you that I have finally got approval to allow you entry on the ARC base..”

You were so close. So why didn't you feel as overjoyed as you expected? Either way, you smile and nod.

“I’ll be there soon, and I’ll be bringing a friend.”