Anthony Lockwood x GN! Reader- You Too? (FLUFF with a little bit of angst)
Summary: Anthony can't sleep at night. You can't sleep at night. Most of the time you avoid running into each other, but one fateful night of tears in the basement leads to an awkward bedroom experience.
A/n: this one is quite a bit longer than my other ones, about 4,000 words. I think it came out pretty well. Please don't make this dirty, I beg of you. It really is just awkwardness that happens to occur in a bed it isn't anything spicy.
Reader pov
There are nights where I can't bear to be in my room. I'm not sure why. Perhaps I need a break from such mundane consistency. I just need to see something other than those walls.
On these nights, I usually make myself some tea and go to the basement. I'd much rather sit in the library, but Lockwood is in there most nights. Nobody ever comes down to the basement. I'm alone with only my thoughts and my tea.
I don't quite understand why my room has this effect on me sometimes. When my parents died, my room was my safe haven. My refuge. My sanctuary. So now that I'm in a new environment, it makes little sense to me that it can feel more like solitary confinement. It makes even less sense that I'm soothed by the concrete and dust of the basement.
Tonight is one of those nights. It's probably three in the morning as I sit on the floor leaned against the wall, sipping my tea. I'm a listener, like Lucy (though not nearly as powerful) so a moment of silence is rare, but extremely calming. To use my power and hear nothing is bliss.
I've only about half way finished my tea when someone comes down the stairs, clearly laser focused on something. We're in the middle of a big case, so that's probably it. I had expected it to be George doing some late research or maybe Lucy to see if she can listen to any of the sources down here and get a lead.
To my surprise, it's the other one.
I watch silently as Lockwood pulls out several files and spreads them out on a table. He seems extra stiff, like something is really bothering him. He grumbles something in frustration before collecting the files and putting them back in the cabinet.
He walks over to my wall and sits down a couple feet away. From what I can tell, he hasn't noticed me.
I'm right here, isn't your talent supposed to be sight?
I simply continue sipping on my tea, remaining quiet and looking forward to not disturb him, though he really is an idiot if he doesn't know I'm here.
I thought for a moment that he actually did see me, but he needed space and realized I needed the same so he just didn't acknowledge it. I was certain on this until I heard him crying.
I look over at him. He's still wearing dress pants and his button up and tie. He's still got on his dress shoes. However, his hair was a mess and his hands were currently tangled in the back locks, only making it worse. His face was buried in his knees. I swear I heard a tear drop on to the floor. He was quietly sobbing, clearly trying to not alert anyone but still in pain. Emotional pain, anyhow.
I debate what I should do for a moment. I don't want to startle him, and honestly he seems like he needs this. I decide to just keep drinking my tea and not look at him. I'll let him get it all out before I make my presence known.
It lasts longer than I thought. Perhaps ten minutes? I'm not the best with comprehending passage of time but that seems right enough. Regardless of the details, it was a long time to sit here holding my breath and listening to his suffering.
Finally, he sniffs and wipes his eyes. I'm still looking straight ahead holding my cup, only seeing him out of my peripheral vision. He runs his hands back and forth over his hair a few times. I close my eyes.
"JESUS FUCKI-"
I snap my head towards Lockwood. He's now on his back with his legs closest to me, propped up on one arm and looking at me as if I'm a ghost. I can properly see his face now. His dark circles seem more prominent than usual and his eyes are red and puffy. His nose is red. His cheeks are discolored. He looks abnormally pale. His lashes have been thickened and darkened by his tears. It was truly a sight.
"HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN HERE?"
"I was here before you."
"AND YOU DIDN'T SAY ANYTHING? YOU SAW ALL OF THAT?"
"Shhh you'll wake up the others, we both know how lightly George sleeps while we're in the midst of a case. Anyhow, you seemed like you needed it. I didn't want to interrupt. It's not like I watched you."
"But... You saw it all. You heard everything!"
"Lockwood, I hope you realize I think no less of you."
"What?"
"I- oh gosh you can't be comfortable like that. Sit up, why don't you?" He hesitantly pushes himself up and leans against the wall again. "I'm worried about you."
"Theres no need to be-"
"Bullshit. You can't keep concealing your emotions like this. It's okay to be overwhelmed or stressed or overall upset for any reason. You always act like everything is wonderful but it's not. I don't know if it ever has been."
He looks down. "(Y/n)... It's not that easy-"
"I never said anything about it being easy. Of course it's hard. I can't even imagine how you feel owning an agency so young, having all that pressure on your shoulders. It's terrifying to be vulnerable."
"Is that why you're in the basement in the early hours of the morning, drinking herbal tea?"
I hum. "I just couldn't sleep, and I like herbal tea."
"Now who's bullshitting?" The corners of his mouth tug up in a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "You much prefer green. Herbal simply calms you down. You only ever drink herbal tea when you're upset."
"How..."
"I notice things, (y/n). Lots of things. Don't think I don't hear the kettle during the midnight hours at least three times a week. The peculiar thing is I never hear anyone go back up the stairs and whenever I go into the kitchen, it's empty."
I look down. How'd he make this about me so quickly?
"Tell me, (y/n), do you spend your nights in the basement often?"
"... No. Only when I can't sleep."
"So... Often." He nods. "Why don't you stay in the library? It's much more inviting."
"I don't want to bother you. That's where you are most nights."
"You could never bother me."
"Stop, you were the one crying a few moments ago, this isn't about me."
He sighs. "It was worth a shot."
"Now, what's bothering you?"
"Uh... Nothing, really."
"Lockwood."
"It's just the case, that's all."
"That's a lie and we both know it."
He let's out a noise of exasperation. "Fine, you really want to know? It's my parents."
"Your parents?" I ask softly as I scoot closer to him.
He nods. "They died when I was six years old. You really have no idea what it's like to have such a great life until suddenly you don't and it all gets ripped away from you without warning and nobody will take you in so you have to fend for yourself before your age even reaches double digits."
"Actually... I think I can relate more than you realize."
"How can you possibly relate?" He almost sounds angry. I don't blame him, I never told him my story. I kept it to myself even after living with other people all this time. I moved here with a purpose, to start new. Therefore, my past never happened according to anyone else. I was another person then. I've left all of that behind, taking only the nightmares and memories with me.
"My parents were murdered when I was eight." I look straight ahead. "Nobody really wants to adopt a kid who's just began to really get strong in their talent for hearing brutal murders and death. It freaks adults out. So I was on my own until I found you guys."
His expression softens. "(Y/n), I'm so sorry, I... Wait, you were fourteen when you applied. That's six years."
"It was hard but I managed. The whole ghost hunting agent thing isn't so bad. Once you've been forced to watch your parents get nothing short of quartered right in front of your sensitive, innocent eyes, you can watch anyone else get ghost touched no big deal."
"I'm sorry, quartered?" His eyes are wide.
"Yeah, are you familiar with the French Revolution?"
"I'm familiar enough to hope you were talking about a different type of quartering."
I shook my head. "It was intense. I still think of it every time I close my eyes."
"I can't even imagine..."
"I didn't tell you this for you to feel sorry for me. I only wanted you to know I'll understand. You aren't as alone as you believe."
He nods slowly. "I see... Thank you... For sharing, I mean."
"Of course. So now that you know I can at least sort of understand what you're feeling, what's going on with you?"
He sighs. "I don't know... Sometimes I just..."
"Miss them?"
"... Yeah." He nods. "Yeah I miss them a lot. I miss them all the time but sometimes when I think about it it's not so bad, it's let me do what I've done, accomplish all of this. Other times..."
"It's mentally suffocating."
"Mentally suffocating... Yeah that's a good word for it. Like it's put a sheet over your brain to prevent it from getting oxygen, but you can still physically breathe with your lungs for the most part."
I nod. "Yeah, it's frightening. George has a book on it he was telling me about some time."
"George knows you feel like this sometimes?"
"No, but we often discuss our readings, trade books, recommend authors or titles... Things of the sort. I haven't told anyone about my past. Except you of course."
"Well aren't I special," he flashes one of his signature Lockwood smiles.
I roll my eyes. "Don't let it get to your head, your ego is already so inflated I fear it might burst."
"Oh haha you love my charisma."
"Is that what we're calling it?" I smile at him.
He laughs. Not his public press laugh, but a true, genuine laugh. One that I've never heard from him before. It makes me feel a little bit warmer with emotion.
"You know, most nights I stay awake in the library simply because I can't stand the solitude of my room."
"What?"
"I know, it's silly-"
"No, not at all! I come down here for the same reason!"
"You do?" He raises his eyebrows, sounding surprised. "I thought you just worried over cases or, well now I thought you thought about your past but-"
"No, it's like..." I think for a moment, trying to figure out how to put it into words. "Like the silence is too loud and the space is too big for just me, even though my bed hardly fits properly."
"Exactly! Like I don't have anything to focus on except for the sensory deprivation and my anxieties."
"Yes! Oh my goodness I can't believe you get it!"
"I thought I was the only one!" He laughs again, different this time. It sounds almost relieved. "Say... Maybe we could help each other out."
I raise an eyebrow. "Help each other out? How so?"
"Well, feel free to decline if you want and we'll never speak of this proposal again, but perhaps we could try spending the night in the same room."
"But..." I get that warm feeling again, more intense this time. "Each room only has one bed..."
"Yes well..." Despite the horrid lighting of the basement, I could faintly see a light pink tint spanning across his nose and blotching on other, seemingly random, spots on his face. "Like I said I understand if you decline and if that is your choice we can pretend I never said anything... However... I feel it may be beneficial to the both of us to have a... companion in the lonely, deafeningly silent hours of the night. If it works, splendid we can finally get some proper sleep. If it doesn't, we each return to our respective seperate rooms and carry on as if nothing ever happened."
"..." I nod slowly. "Okay."
"Ah- really?" He turns to face me more. "In all honesty I thought you would detest the idea."
"Do you still want-"
"Yes! I mean," he clears his throat, "uh... Yeah, the offer still stands."
"Perfect."
"Well then." He stands up and offers me his hand. "Shall we?"
"Oh you mean like right now! Alright then." I take his hand and he pulls me up. He chuckles and leads me to his room.
"I uh... I'll go take this cup back to the kitchen and let you get changed and what not."
"Oh- right." He pushes back some of his hair. "I'll only be a minute or two."
"Okay, I'll be waiting for whenever you're ready."
He smiles at me as he steps back into his room and closes the door. I swiftly make my way to the kitchen and set my cup in the sink, resolving to wash it in the morning, and return in under a minute.
I wait outside for only about thirty seconds longer before Lockwood opens the door again.
"Sorry I took so long."
"Long? Lockwood that was- wait."
"What? Is something the matter?" He takes his hand off of the door handle and peeks his head out around the corner.
"No, just... You're wearing a shirt."
"Oh, well..." He stepped aside, inviting me in, and closed the door behind me "Yes in fact I am. What about it?"
"Lockwood you've never worn a shirt to bed in all the time I've been here. It's like an unspoken principle in the house; you don't wear shirts to bed and George doesn't wear trousers."
"I didn't realize it was such a disruption of order-"
"Well- that's not what I'm saying." I sigh. I've always struggled with putting things into the right words. "Obviously it's fine if you wear a shirt to bed, I just... I'm just wondering why all of a sudden?"
"Well... I don't know. I suppose I thought you may be a bit uncomfortable sharing a bed with me when I've no shirt on." He looked down, those pink splotches returning to his face. "After all, this is only an arrangement of convenience and practicality. It's not like were... uh... going out... or anything..."
"Ah, right..." I can feel myself getting flustered. "Well... I don't mind, really. The whole point is to feel more comfortable going to sleep so if you feel more comfortable with no shirt on, honestly it doesn't make any difference to me."
"... Are you sure?"
"I'm sure, really." I smile reassuringly. "Whatever makes you fall asleep best."
He hesitates. "Well, if you're absolutely positive-"
"Lockwood, I promise you."
He hums lowly. "Alright then. But if you change your mind just tell me and I'll put it back on straight away, I swear-"
"Lockwood!"
"Alright, okay! If you're sure-"
"I'm sure."
He holds his hands up in mock surrender, a smile gracing his face. It isn't one of his signature smiles, it's real, quite boyish actually. He seems so young. Sometimes I forget how young we really are, but then again, all youth since The Problem has forgotten how young they really are.
I try my best to appear to be disinterested and looking away as he removes his shirt and folds it, neatly placing it in the bottom right drawer of his dresser. Of course, I watch the whole thing unfold. I'm only trying to appear as if I'm not.
"Alright, well..." He awkwardly rubs his arm. I've never seen him seem so nervous before. "I suppose now is when we uh... get into bed, then..."
"Yes it does seem like that happens now..." I slowly nod.
"Well uhm... After you." He gestures toward the bed.
"Oh no, please, it's your bed, you go ahead first." I wave my hands.
"No no I insist. You're my... guest? Is that the appropriate term for this? What do we call this?" He lets out a breathy chuckle. "Sorry, I'm a bit..."
"Nervous?"
"To say the least."
We both laugh a little bit. There really was no need for it to be so nerve wrecking. We had already agreed that if it doesn't go well we pretend nothing happened. Nobody needs to know.
"Here, why don't we just both get in at the same time?" I offer.
"Yes! Yes, that sounds like a good idea." He goes to the side of the bed opposite of me.
It's still extremely tense as the both of us climb in under the covers. There's plenty of space in between us. I'm nearly hanging off the edge, no doubt Lockwood is as well.
Fuck it.
I move onto the bed more so I'm a comfortable ways on. "Lockwood?"
"Yes?"
"Can I be frank for a moment?"
"Well I think I'd prefer you to stay (y/n) but I suppose whatever makes you happy-"
"Oh shut up." He laughs one of those real laughs again. I nearly melt.
"What would you like to talk about?"
I take a deep breath, admittedly, his joke (however stupid) managed to cut some of the tension. "This isn't going to work unless we get over ourselves and actually share the bed. Like real sharing."
He pauses. "You're right. The question is, how far are we going?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean... Well..." He huffs. "If we're being frank-"
"I prefer Anthony, but I suppose-"
"Oh shut up, it really isn't funny." Despite his words, he was smiling again. "I see your point now."
"Well, what is it you were going to say, Frank?"
"Please don't." He laughs, making me smile more.
"I'm listening."
He inhales deeply. "Well, how far are we going as in... Are we simply laying next to one another and trying to go to sleep or... to be blunt, are we spooning?"
I nearly chocked on my own saliva. Blunt was certainly one way to say it.
"Well... Whatever makes you comfortable. Honestly I think it would work best if we... Uh... Did the latter, but I don't want to make you-"
"I was actually hoping you'd say that-"
He sighs, sounding almost... Relieved?"
"Really?"
"Yes, I-" he rolls over, bringing us from being over a foot apart to our noses now almost touching. "Goodness you are much closer than I thought-"
"Sorry, I-" I start to move back, but he puts his hand on my waist, gently stopping me.
"No no I uh... Well if we're going to uh... You know, uhm, we're going to have to be close anyway so..."
"Right, yeah..."
He softly pulls me closer using his hand that still rests on my waist. I move towards him until my hands are pressed to his chest and our legs are touching under the covers. His face is splotchy red again, the most intense I've ever seen it, though I can't imagine how flustered I must appear.
"Uhm... May I?" He starts to wrap his leg around mine.
"Ah..." I nod, unable to trust my voice.
And so now we lay here, about two seconds away from being puddles of awkwardness and mild embarrassment. He's warm. Very warm. It's kind of nice being this close to him.
I've always found him attractive since the moment I saw him. He is, objectively, a good looking guy.
Then I got to know him a little bit. He and I would often bicker and pester one another, some times seemingly more serious than others, but for the most part it was all in jest. Making jabs at each other is just what we do.
I think I fell for him more and more over my time here, but tonight I saw a new side of him. A side that really pushed me over the edge of having a bit of a crush on him to trying to stop myself from kissing him at any given moment.
"(Y/n)? Are you alright?" He brings a hand up to my forehead. "You're awful warm and you look... Distressed."
"Anthony?"
His gaze softened. I don't think anyone has called him that in... well who knows how long? Too long. "Yes? Is something the matter?"
"No I just..." I make eye contact with him, effectively rendering myself speechless.
He inches closer. "Are you sure? This is quite the... intimate position... I wouldn't want to make you..."
By this time, our noses are back to almost touching, but even closer than before. He tilts his head just enough to avoid colliding them.
"Make me what? Uncomfortable?" I glance down at his lips, quickly looking back to his eyes to avoid suspicion. "Anthony, you could never-"
He kisses me.
Holy shit.
Anthony Lockwood is kissing me.
I'm in Anthony Lockwood's bed.
I'm kissing Anthony Lockwood!
"I'm sorry-" he pulls back. "Oh no... I shouldn't have done that... Shit... Oh shit I'm so sorry-"
I kiss him again. "Shut up, will you? I just had a life altering moment here and I'm trying to enjoy it."
"You- you liked it?"
"Of course I did. Anthony, I've liked you since... Well I suppose there wasn't a single moment I could pick out but-"
"I love it when you call me that."
I smile. "Call you what? Anthony? Well that is your name."
"It hasn't been used in years. Not by itself, anyhow. It sounds nice coming from your lips."
"I like your lips." It takes a moment to register what I just said. "Wait, I didn't mean-"
"You like kissing me~" He teases me, putting on his Lockwood Smile.
"Oh shut up!" I put my head on his chest to hide my face. "Of course I do..."
"Well... You know what I would like more than just kissing you?" He carefully lifts my head up with two fingers under my chin.
"Hm?"
He hesitates for a moment. "I'd like to be your boyfriend."
"What? Really?"
"If you'll have me, that is-"
"Of course I'll have you, you prick!" I lightly punch his chest. "Do you know how long I've wanted to tell you that?"
He shakes his head. "I can't say I do."
"Well there wasn't a specific time but I think I started to think about it more and more around the time we were working the Brentic case."
"The B- (y/n) that was at least a year and a half ago."
"I'm well aware."
"... Huh."
"What?"
"I think I've known since the Dalkins case."
"Lockwood, that was long before the Brentic case-"
"It seems my charm worked then."
"Oh shut up! Go to sleep!"
He laughs a bit. "So... Are we...?"
"... I think we are..."
"Wonderful! Splendid! Perfect! Grand! Fanta-"
I laugh. "Anthony shut up!"
He goes quiet, but the smile remains on his face. "Do we tell the others?"
"... Nah. It's funnier if we just let them figure it out. But we don't necessarily have to hide it either."
He nods. "It'll take all my self control to not shout it from the rooftops."
"Oh hush." I roll my eyes, ignoring the butterflies in my stomach. "Get some sleep, lover boy. You clearly need it."
He kisses me once more, shorter this time, before closing his eyes and pulling me closer to his chest. He falls asleep surprisingly quickly, his breaths going even and his mouth falling slightly agape in no time at all.
I watch him for a moment. Once again, he really shows his age for only a second. I push some of his hair away from his face and place a kiss on his forehead, causing him to stir just a bit.
Before I know it, my eyelids feel heavy. It becomes increasingly harder to keep them open, to stay awake. Soon enough, I'm drifting into sleep with pleasant dreams to greet me and Lockwood by my side.
How lucky am I?
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Elastic Heart Ch 7 (Linked Universe story)
Summary: When Sky goes missing, the Chain scrambles to figure out where he is and what happened before it's too late.
(AO3 link)
First
<<Previous // Next>>
Hyrule Castle hardly felt like the safest place for any of the Links given most of their adventures, but it was as good a place to regroup and heal as any other. Although the entire group was well aware that the knights were useless, and the whispers of nobility hung close over their shoulders, the queen gave them as much privacy as possible and lent her best healers to their cause.
The next twenty-four hours were a somber affair. The heroes kept vigil at the beds of their fallen friends. When they weren’t fretting over them, they were wandering aimlessly, too forlorn for words and too anxious for rest.
It was late into the night after their return from the desert, and Time was staring into a fire contemplatively, his mind still trying to process everything. Twilight had already eased him out of his armor, which had been silently hidden until it could be cleaned of Sky’s blood. Somehow, despite all his experience, Time still seemed to be the least functional when someone was this injured.
How was it that in the span of four weeks he’d almost lost two of his boys? He still hadn’t figured out what had led to this, why Sky had been so terrified, so insistent that they leave, why he’d been apologizing with his dying breath.
There was just… so much. All of it was too much. The Shadow, Sky, all of it. Why had the Shadow taken his form and then spoken such words about Sky creating him? Was that why Sky had been so concerned with eliminating it himself? Some words about a curse, lies hissed between demonic teeth about how Sky had somehow made this mess?
Goddesses above… what had that thing convinced Sky? No matter what had started this… surely Sky wasn’t blaming himself for it?
That had to be the issue. Sky, sweet and soft, always in the background until he decided it was time to cause a little mischief… the boy had always been the least of Time’s concerns when it came to causing actual trouble. He’d always seemed the calmest, the most put together, the least traumatized, the most normal. Between that and his adoration for a sword Time would rather see at the bottom of Lake Hylia, the boy had never really been someone that Time had to keep a close eye on.
Yet here he’d been, taking on the weight of their journey himself and trying to leave the others behind. He’d nearly gotten himself killed for it.
Time had assumed the position of leader in this group and he’d nearly failed in recognizing when one of its members was in desperate need of help.
How long had Sky been spiraling like this? What had led him to this point? Had the Shadow spoken to him on the night he’d taken watch? Had it started before then? Did he blame himself for Twilight’s injury as well? What else was he hiding? What curse had the Shadow been talking about?
Time heard footsteps, and he turned to see the veteran walking morosely through the room, pointedly ignoring his leader. Twilight stood at the entranceway to the room sectioned off for their two fallen brothers, arms crossed as he watched Legend leave. When Time’s eye met his own, he said, “Finally convinced him to go to bed.”
“How are you holding up?” Time found himself asking before he could stop himself. He was worried for all of them, especially his descendant, who naturally took others’ wellbeing and protection as his own personal responsibility. They were all heroes, they all felt that burden, but his Ordonian made it his life’s mission to protect his loved ones far more than anyone else.
Not to mention Time had been doing a terrible job of checking in on anyone.
Twilight sighed tiredly. “I… would feel better if I were the one in the bed. It’s way worse just being the one helplessly looking on.”
Time would rather not relive the events of a month ago, but he knew what Twilight meant. It was the worst feeling in the world, being a child of destiny, someone who was so used to fixing all the problems, and being stuck in a situation where there was absolutely nothing to do.
“I know,” Time said simply, resting a hand on the young man’s shoulder.
“Cap’s still in there,” Twilight said quietly, eyes looking at the ground as his own emotions got the better of him. “I managed to get the rest out. Vet was the last.”
Time hadn’t even been in there since their arrival. Warriors hadn’t left the boys’ side. It was almost as if their positions were reversed from the last time. He wasn’t sure he should be happy about it or not. He felt almost guilty for not hovering the same way, but he’d been fairly useless last time. It would be better if he could actually help the others as Warriors had, but he’d spent the majority of the day in a daze, guided around by Twilight, who had taken the captain’s role in guiding and leading everyone else.
What an insane week this turned out to be.
“Get some sleep,” Time finally said, patting Twilight’s cheek affectionately before lowering his hand.
Twilight watched him uncertainly, biting his lip and nodding. He walked by without another word. The eldest Link took a steadying breath, heading into the room.
It was a fairly small chamber, with both beds’ headboards against the same wall. Time saw Warriors asleep in the chair between the two, scooted a little closer to Hyrule’s bed. The captain was dressed down in his undertunic and pants, scarf and armor set aside in his own quarters. Time pulled an extra blanket that was folded by the bedside and wrapped it gently around his fellow hero. Despite his attempt to be gentle, the captain stirred, one of the lightest sleepers in the group, and turned bleary eyes towards his elder.
“Go to bed,” Time said softly. “I’ll watch them.”
Frazzled and exhausted, Warriors let out a weary exhale, rubbing his face. Time thought better of his dismissal, recalling that the captain had checked in on him in the past, that he himself had just checked in on Twilight. He shouldn’t brush off the man just because he held himself together better than anyone else.
“It’ll… be all right,” he tried to reassure the man hesitantly.
Warriors stiffened, shoulders shaking, much to Time’s alarm. However, instead of sobs, he heard an amused snort. The captain looked up, eyes exhausted but somewhat alight. “You’re really not good at this whole emotional support thing, are you?”
Despite his own mood, Time found himself scowling mildly. “That bad?”
“Your tone isn’t reassuring at all.”
“I’m not used to saying things that…”
“That you don’t believe?” Warriors finished for him. “Me neither. That’s why I try distraction instead.”
Time huffed, looking between the two sleeping boys. They both looked so peaceful now. Not pale, not on death’s door, not desperate or begging for forgiveness.
He sighed heavily as his gaze returned to the captain. Not recognizing he was under scrutiny, Warriors had let his expression be more open, fear and worry pulling at him. He looked so damn tired. He’d seen this too many times. Time himself had seen the expression when Twilight had been dying.
Warriors was far more accustomed to this than any of them. And Time hated that.
The captain shifted to get up, but then he paused, staring at the bed. Time followed his gaze, watching with sudden intensity as their esteemed traveler scrunched his nose and twisted in bed a little, eyes fluttering open.
“Traveler? Link?” Warriors leaned forward alongside Time, his hand gently reaching for Hyrule’s shoulder.
The Hero of Hyrule blinked a few times, seeming to register his surroundings, and then he gasped, practically leaping into a seated position. Time immediately sat on the bed just as Warriors jumped forward, both placing steadying hands on the teenager’s shoulders.
“Sky!” Hyrule immediately exclaimed, squirming under their hold.
“It’s okay, it’s okay!” Warriors insisted, putting a second hand on the boy’s chest. “He’s here.”
Hyrule paused, panting for air, eyes wide and wild, before they settled on the pair. “He’s okay?”
Time and Warriors exchanged a look before the leader spoke. “He’s here.”
Hyrule huffed, eyes wet, and then he laughed shakily, tucking his knees into his chest. “I—I thought—I thought he—I—”
He laughed again, more nervous than before, entire body trembling. Warriors settled on the mattress beside him, arm wrapping around his shoulders carefully. Hyrule wasn’t the most comfortable with touch and usually didn’t engage in it, and neither Warriors nor Time were particularly cuddly men, but after everything, they all felt the need to stick close to each other. The traveler leaned into the hold, tears trailing down his cheeks as he continued to chuckle, his breaths quickly accelerating into something akin to panic and relief, a conglomeration of emotions crashing out of him in a fashion that he couldn’t control. Warriors held him tighter.
“We’re glad you’re alright,” Time said softly, his thumb tracing across the boy’s collarbone. “You scared us back there.”
“Yeah, what with the Triforce and all,” Warriors piped up, squeezing Hyrule a little more tightly as he smiled. “You sure did have quite the trick up your sleeve.”
Hyrule’s tearful relief evaporated in an instant, eyes widening with alarm. Time felt his own concern rise – did the boy not remember using it?
“It’s okay,” Time assured him. “We’re all heroes here, Traveler. We’ve borne pieces of the Triforce as well. I just didn’t realize one among us had carried the entire sacred relic. That’s quite an honor.”
“R-right,” Hyrule mumbled, looking at his knees.
“How are you feeling?” Warriors asked, brushing past the distressing topic.
“Where’s the Triforce?” Hyrule countered.
The elder pair glanced at each other again before answering honestly. “We… don’t know. It vanished once you’d finished using it.”
Hyrule watched them a moment, still and silent. Then he buried his head into his knees.
“We’ll find it,” Warriors assured him. “One way or another. Such an artifact stretches far beyond our understanding – it might have returned to your era.”
“I—I didn’t want him to die,” Hyrule said in a trembling voice.
“We know,” Time soothed gently, sliding his hand along Hyrule’s back. “We didn’t want that either.”
Hyrule glanced up at him, cheeks stained with tears once more. “He’s okay, right?”
Time swallowed. Sky remained quiet in the other bed. He pushed lightly on the teenager. “Get some sleep, Link.”
XXX
It was the middle of the night when Legend finally gave up on sleeping.
His mind was whirling too much. Watching Sky basically die right in front of him, watching Hyrule nearly kill himself with the effort to wish him back with the Triforce…
It had been entirely too familiar.
He thought he’d gotten passed that. He thought he’d learned to keep moving in spite of the shadows cast over him by his journeys.
Clearly he’d been wrong.
So the young hero, a veteran of more adventures than any of the others individually, found himself incapable of handling the situation. And he hated that.
Legend wandered the castle, ignoring the cold and uninviting stone all around him. His feet guided him back to the room they’d set aside for Hyrule and Sky. The candle in his hand flickered slightly at the draft in the cavernous antechamber, chilled now that the fire in the large hearth had mostly died down.
When he slowly opened the door, he wasn’t surprised to see someone holding vigil. Time glanced up to meet his gaze.
“Just wanted to check on them,” he said dully, not bothering to hide his reasoning. This felt so different from when Twilight had been injured – Hyrule had been in there constantly trying to heal him. They’d avoided the area to let him concentrate. It had been awful, but at least there’d been a thread of hope to work with. It wasn’t as if there weren’t healers here, but the words they’d been given were little comfort.
They’d needed rest. There was nothing else they could do.
No potion could heal someone who couldn’t drink it. No spell could be cast when the one who knew the spells was the one who was unconscious. And so they’d all just done the last thing they could do, the only thing they could do.
They kept them company.
They kept them company, and Legend simmered with grief, guilt, and unresolved emotions from so many years ago that he didn’t even know how to put words to them.
Time pat the empty chair beside him welcomingly. Legend was thankful for the invitation, thankful that there were no questions being asked. He shuffled over to the chair, watching Sky sleep before his eyes drifted to Hyrule next.
“Our traveler woke up earlier,” Time said quietly.
Legend turned to him, eyes wide. “He did?”
“Yes. I think he’ll be alright with some more rest.”
Thank the goddesses, he thought. He didn’t remember the Triforce being so draining, but Hyrule had used it to augment his magic and grant a wish, so perhaps it worked differently than it had for Legend all those years ago.
Time’s words hung in the air, and then there was silence. Legend’s candle held steady against the darkness, illuminating his face, but he had no words to offer. For a moment, as he watched Sky, it felt like he was holding vigil over a body, a mourner lost in time, adrift in a different Hyrule altogether, grieving the loss of someone who was equally displaced and wholly forgotten to this era.
His breath hitched in his throat. He swallowed hard.
The silence seemed suffocating, but he had nothing to say. Time shifted uncomfortably beside him, clearly trying to find the right words. Legend didn’t care.
Sky. Sky had… just like…
There was usually something to distract him at this point, some task he had to accomplish that made him move forward despite the emotions dragging him down. But this felt like the end of a journey, after his first one or after Koholint, where there was nothing left but the emptiness in his chest, the fresh wounds on his heart. He had no road to travel on, no home to go back to, no Zelda to talk to.
He just stared at Sky.
“I have confidence that the Triforce healed the worst of it,” Time said. “Though I do not know if he will fully recover—”
“He died,” Legend interrupted.
“Veteran… he’s right here. He’s alive.”
“No,” Legend said firmly, feeling his throat tighten. He swallowed hard to fight it. “No. You don’t get it. None of you gets it. He didn’t just get hurt, he didn’t just fall. He died.”
They didn’t understand. They didn’t realize why they felt the way they did. Even he couldn’t truly comprehend it, but he knew why. He knew because it had happened before.
“The Triforce brought him back,” Legend explained. “But that doesn’t change the fact that he died. He died and none of you get that, he died, he died—”
Legend didn’t know when he’d lost the battle with his voice, when the tears had started to leak out, when the words had devolved into pathetic sobs, an admittance to a grief that he’d carried with him for years, a fresh wound and terror and horror that had ingrained itself into his soul.
Sky was one of his dearest friends. And he’d died.
He couldn’t even be angry at the Shadow, couldn’t even be curious as to what its words had meant, couldn’t even be worried about why Sky had left in the first place. All he felt was utter and absolute grief and loss.
Because Sky had died. They’d had to resurrect him. The others were caught in a confused haze of worry and fear, as if they were just watching an injured brother instead of acknowledging what had actually happened, instead of realizing that they should be mourning too.
Legend’s cries grew louder, inadvertently waking Hyrule. He didn’t notice. He couldn’t see it through his tears, through the darkness that engulfed him when Time pulled him into a hug.
XXX
Sky didn’t wake the next morning when Hyrule did. The others celebrated seeing one of their brothers slowly recovering, but the mood was certainly dampened by a lack of progress from their most injured. Wild found purpose in nourishing Hyrule back to health while Warriors started to fall into a field medic mode of sorts. Sky’s comatose state still necessitated care, though it brought a morbid curiosity in Wild – after all, he’d been in a similar state for a century.
Clearly the Shrine of Resurrection worked its magic to help sustain him. Sky had no such luck. His body still functioned as if he were awake, requiring sustenance, removing waste. He needed to be fed and cleaned, to be moved so he wouldn’t get bed sores, to be prodded to see if there was a reaction. It was a morbid affair, and it made Wild uneasy. He’d only been asleep for two days and it already felt like a century in itself.
Wild found it too disturbing to watch. Instead, he helped the others. He felt like he had to pull his weight somehow, had to blink the images of Sky’s broken body in Time’s arms. Hyrule slowly improving was something they could all latch on to. Warriors never seemed to leave Sky’s room, and Twilight spent a fair amount of time in there as well alongside Time. Occasionally Legend and Four assisted, but Wind was kept away, as well as Hyrule. Wild just couldn’t stomach the sight of the care his beloved friend needed. Whenever any of the boys lamented the situation, however, Legend would firmly and adamantly say that Sky was going to be fine.
It was strange, how confident he was. But with all his experiences, Wild had to wonder if he knew something of the matter. He latched on to the hope nonetheless. It seemed silly not to hope in a recovery, given his own history, but, well… that had taken a while. Sky didn’t have a century.
As the sun set on the second day, however, worry began to hover over them like a cloud heavy laden with an oncoming rain. After all, there was no way they could nourish Sky if he didn’t wake up.
“He’ll wake up,” Legend insisted when Four pointed this out.
“Assuming he does, that still doesn’t address the biggest issue,” Four sighed. “What if… what if when he wakes up, he tries to leave again?”
“He wouldn’t!” Wind argued.
“How do you know?” Four fired back. “He’d been running from us the entire time!”
Wild watched the exchange warily. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t wondered what had caused all of this in the first place, but it honestly hadn’t crossed his mind that it could happen again. He felt Hyrule shift uncomfortably beside him, and he turned his attention to his exhausted brother.
“You don’t think he wanted to leave us, do you?” Hyrule asked him quietly.
Words latched on to the champion’s brain, having first hooked in his mind when he’d heard them two days ago.
You don’t realize how terribly you failed.
This entire journey, Wild had been the failure of the group. Hearing those words had made him think the Shadow had been addressing him when he’d known, he’d known that it had been addressing Sky. But what failure was Sky responsible for? He hadn’t done anything wrong. Unless, of course, the Shadow was simply talking about Sky’s pursuit of it. But… Sky’s frantic attempts to argue, to silence it…
“No,” Wild answered distantly. “I don’t think he wanted to leave us.”
XXX
“It’s been two hours; we should move him.”
“I can do it.”
“No, it’s all right. You carried him last time. I’ll do it.”
What? What was… what?
Link felt impossibly heavy. His half-addled brain wondered if he’d become a sword spirit like Fi, made entirely of metal.
He was lying on something soft, he knew that much. He felt like he was sinking into it so much that he would never be able to get out.
Except he was getting out of it. Or, well, floating out of it. Flying? Was he flying?
Warmth wrapped around his back and shoulders, around the back of his knees. Two grounding forces, holding him steady in a vast expanse of nothing. He felt himself dangling and shifting in rhythmic motions.
Distant voices grew closer as the sound of creaking wood emitted beneath him in shuffles.
“Don’t spill it!”
“Oh, quit your fussing, Vet! Here, Traveler, just drink slowly. We kept it warm for you.”
“Are you guys done arguing? I have a story to finish!”
Grumbles. Sighing.
“Go on, Sailor.” That voice rumbled, buzzing in Sky’s ear with the warmth of a hearth and accompanied by a gentle heartbeat.
“So there I was, thirty bokoblins between me and my goal—”
“Oh boy, they multiplied again,” a voice remarked dryly.
“What are you talking about?”
Sailor. Sailor? What?
Link tried to focus, but he was being lulled back to sleep by gentle sways as if he were laying on a hammock on Skyloft.
“It seems each time you tell it more bokoblins appear.” There was that rumbling tone again, waking Link slightly, relaxing him and drawing him into a trance. It was so familiar…
There was a decidedly annoyed huff in reply. “Hey, I know what I’m talking about! Anyway, so there were fifty bokoblins between me and—”
Link finally pried an eye open. Then he blearily tried to do it with his other eye. Everything was so blurry.
The hammock he was on continued to sway gently. Back and forth. Back and forth.
“That’s impossible and you know it, Sailor!”
“Nuh uh, that’s what happened—”
“Sky?”
The swaying stopped, jostling Link out of his relaxed state a little more. He tried to look up, but he couldn’t muster the strength. However, his perception was finally piecing together an image in his brain, and he belatedly realized he was not, in fact, lying on a hammock.
Someone was carrying him.
Someone was carrying him, and the sailor was here. But not just the sailor. He recognized all their voices.
“Sky, can you hear me?”
The rumbling from before returned. The gentle, steady heartbeat had increased a little. Who was carrying him? Link tried again with all his might to move his head, to tip it back just enough to see above, to identify who was holding him. It definitely wasn’t the captain; the voice was deeper than his. That just left Time and Twilight.
It had to be Twilight, then. The man was freakishly strong, and Time would never—
“Here—move this—put him here, old man.”
Huh?
Link felt his world move as the person carrying him—Time—took a few steps forward. There was scrambling and shuffling of items, hushed whispers and excited laughs. Link felt something somewhat hard and warm rise up to meet his back as he was laid on top of something, and his head settled on someone’s lap.
A hand gently brushed his bangs out of his eyes before settling on his chest, giving it a soft pat. With his head facing towards the ceiling, he saw eight faces slowly come into focus, all encircling him like flower petals around its center.
He drank in the sight, having missed his friends so much. Twilight was the one his head was resting on, the one who had a hand on his chest and a reassuring, gentle smile directly over him. Time stood behind Twilight, a hand on the rancher’s shoulder, also watching him, though his expression was less warm and more concerned. To Link’s left were Legend, who quickly placed a hand on Link’s shoulder, Wind, who was smiling so brightly he outshone the sunlight, and Warriors, who had both hands on Wind’s shoulders as he leaned over to see Link more clearly. Hyrule sat a distance away towards Link’s feet, with Wild directly beside him and holding him steadily in a side hug, his face beaming. To his right, Four’s smile was genuine and trembling, his eyes glistening with tears. Link managed to get the muscles in his face to cooperate, and he gave a weak smile.
The group let out a collective sigh of relief, and then laughter echoed in the air. Link was bombarded by voices competing for his attention.
“We were so worried—”
“Our Traveler nearly killed himself to get you better, we thought we were going to lose both of you!”
“We missed you so much, Sky—”
“We really thought you were a goner! Like seriously, Vet was crying—”
“I was not crying!!”
“Are you feeling okay?”
Everyone hushed at the question issued by Twilight. Link watched them all, his smile fading alongside his energy. He took a deep breath, trying to piece everything together, his mind still too slow to process it all, and Twilight patted his chest again.
“It’s okay if you’re too tired to talk,” Twilight said softly. “We got you out of bed so you wouldn’t get bed sores, but now that you’re waking up, maybe it’ll be okay?”
Here Twilight directed his attention to Warriors, seeming to ask him if it would, in fact, be all right. The captain ruffled Wind’s hair, making the sailor giggle and step aside, and he drew closer to Link and Twilight. “Mostly. If he’s too weak to move, we’ll still need to do it for him.”
Link could hardly put anything together. But one sentence suddenly burned in his mind, registering and making him try to bolt into a seated position. His body refused to obey, and he barely had curled into his abdomen before his head flopped back on Twilight’s lap with a grunt.
“Easy, Sky,” Twilight soothed gently, pulling Link onto his lap completely with strong grips under his arms. Link settled his head against the elder’s shoulder, gasping for air at the exertion. “It’s okay. We’ll take care of you.”
“T-Traveler…” Link managed to scrape out, his heart racing.
Hyrule shuffled closer, sitting on whatever object Link had just been lying on earlier. He reached a shaking hand out to the Skyloftian, squeezing his upper arm. “I’m here, Sky. You’re okay.”
His grip felt so incredibly weak, even to Link’s addled mind. He felt his stomach drop.
He’d made it worse. Somehow, he’d made it worse. Hyrule had almost died because of him.
“I’m s-sorry,” he stammered, his eyes stinging with tears, his mind berating himself over and over and over.
“Sorry?” Hyrule repeated, confused. “Sorry for what?”
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” Twilight reassured him, his gentle voice relaxing Link’s body, even if his mind continued to whirl.
“Sky, we’re just happy you’re alive,” Four said quickly. “Please don’t—don’t try to do anything. Just stay here. It’s okay. You’re okay.”
“N-no,” Link protested weakly. “I—I need—I—it’s my—I can’t—”
His entire world shifted as Twilight lifted him into his arms and stood. “Shh, it’s okay, Sky. Come on, let’s get you back to bed.”
Despite his complete exhaustion, Link almost wanted to snap. He wasn’t a child, damn it. He had to tell them, he had to make them realize it was best to leave him here, he could recover on his own and then he could hunt—
Wait.
“Shadow?” he asked quietly.
“He escaped, as he always does,” Time said from somewhere to Twilight’s right. “He’s a coward.”
“Yeah, but the Old Man left him with a pretty good parting gift!” Wind piped in. “Arrow to the chest! And Champion got one in his eye too!”
Link wilted in Twilight’s arms. The Shadow was still alive, and he hadn’t even been able to land any meaningful hits on him. The others had to come rescue him. The others, who bore the brunt of his own stupidity and weakness, and who continued to do so.
He was too tired for this. Too weak to hold back his brittle mind and body’s reaction. Too spent to care that he was suddenly weeping.
It just wasn’t fair. Why did they have to suffer for him? Why couldn’t he get this right?! How did he just keep compounding upon his failure?!
“Sky, what’s wrong? It’s okay, we’re all okay, the Shadow didn’t get anyone except for you.” Wild hastily said as Twilight hesitated in lowering him, instead opting to sway back and forth calmingly.
He felt someone card their hand through his hair and wipe the tears from his cheeks. “Hey, it’s okay, Sky. Everyone’s safe, and so are you.”
Warriors’ words were both a blessing and a curse. Link was eternally grateful everyone was fine, but this just wasn’t right.
“I—I s-should’ve—should’ve—”
“Link.”
He snapped out his stuttering, surprised at hearing his own name for the first time in ages. He had long since stopped viewing himself as part of the group, but he’d been remiss to throw his name out for the world to hear when he’d realized he was in Twilight’s Hyrule.
“No one is expecting you to eliminate the Shadow by yourself,” Time said firmly. “We wouldn’t all be here if that was the case. Whatever has convinced you to think you should handle this alone, it’s wrong.”
The room suddenly exploded into sound, cutting off whatever argument Link might have had.
“Wait, you wanted to take on the Shadow alone?!”
“Sky, are you insane, I thought you were one of the smarter ones in our group, what the actual hell—”
“The goddesses wouldn’t bring us all together if we could take the Shadow by ourselves!”
“You could have gotten yourself killed, Sky, what were you thinking?”
“Enough,” Time interrupted the group. “Let him rest.”
Link felt himself being lowered onto the bed, and the blankets were tucked all the way to his chin. He saw the group surrounding the bed worriedly, some looking more annoyed than others, some looking scared, and some hurt and bewildered.
Link sniffled helplessly.
Wind immediately jumped into the bed, kicking off his shoes and snuggling in beside him. “I’ll keep an eye on him.”
Everyone agreed with words that Link didn’t bother to discern, and he felt Wind tuck himself neatly in between his right side and arm, resting his head on his shoulder. Link suddenly felt sore, but he didn’t protest.
“Aryll loves cuddling when she’s scared or hurting or doesn’t feel good,” Wind whispered with a smile. “I figured you didn’t want to be alone.”
Link couldn’t help the small smile that pulled at his lips. He bit back another apology in lieu of letting the sailor have a chance to help, and he closed his eyes, resting his cheek on Wind’s forehead and closing his eyes.
The world grew warm and heavy. Exhaustion pulled at him, allowing him to settle back into sleep, but just before its gentle embrace could take him, his mind jolted back to—
Bleeding. He was bleeding so much. A bone deep exhaustion dragged his mind away, but he clung desperately. This was a different kind of tired, a far too permanent sleep beckoning him.
“S-Shadow…”
He had to know. He had to be sure.
“He’s gone,” Time said. “He’s gone.”
He… he did it?
He did it. They were safe. They were safe.
He felt tears sting in his eyes, his heart fluttering. His mission was… over.
He’d finally eliminated Demise.
He laughed, he laughed in relief. His brothers would no longer be haunted by that demon. He couldn’t eliminate the wounds of the past, but he could prevent any in the future.
“What were you thinking?” he heard Time whisper.
It didn’t matter now, whether they knew or not. But he still… he still felt obligated to say it. “M-making… amends…”
He could never truly make up for everything. But at least now he could…
He could rest. Goddess, he could rest.
I’m sorry Zelda, he thought. He apologized to her over and over, to Groose and to all his friends on Skyloft.
He knew. In his heart, he knew.
This was his last mission.
“I’m… sorry,” he said aloud before directing the apology at those around him. Because he knew he was leaving them too, and he knew he would never get a chance to truly apologize for all the harm he’d caused. “I’m s-sorry. I’m sorry.”
I’m sorry…
The darkness pulled, and he drowned in it.
Link’s eyes snapped open. He’d—goddess, he’d—how—
Hyrule. He—he must have—
“Why?” he asked quietly, his voice little more than a whine.
“Hm…?” Wind perked up, already groggy, but his eyes were sharp as he looked at Link. “What’s wrong?”
Link couldn’t let this out on their youngest. But he couldn’t stop his raw emotions either, and before he knew it he was crying again. “Why?”
Wind watched him, eyes suddenly far older than they had any right to be. The boy held a gentleness and understanding to him, a sympathy and sorrow that intermingled, and he leaned down to hold him tightly.
“Because we love you, Sky.”
Sky fell apart completely, sobbing in his brother’s shirt.
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