Chapter Text
Cayde set up shop in the hangar just as soon as it was rebuilt. At first, he pretended he was only there helping Amanda unload some cargo, but his true agenda had been getting some much-needed space to himself. Okay, so it was usually pretty busy in there, but he appreciated having an office with a good view and a roof overhead. An office without his commander in it.
There was plenty to keep him occupied, too. His Hunter scouts were checking in regularly again, and a bevvy of other Guardians started hounding after him for tips on where to find the best loot caches. Then there was the advent of the whole Flashpoint protocol, which was a little tricky to implement without speaking to his commander face-to-face, but Cayde was nothing if not creative when it came to avoiding his problems. None of his Guardians seemed to notice what a mess he was, and if they did, none of them bothered him about it. Bless their souls.
Whenever the breeze picked up, and kicked dust through the vast metal scaffolding of the hangar, he felt momentary pangs of wanderlust. The call of the wilds still echoed in the back of his mind, but it wasn’t enough to pull him out of the pit of anxiety that had been swallowing him since Ghaul sacked the Last City. The Vanguard job wasn’t enough to make him want to fly away on a scouting mission anymore. He was dealing with enough stress that he never had to worry about being bored, but he thought he would welcome boredom back with open arms.
Somewhere in the back of his mind was a voice telling him he couldn’t run forever. Just behind that voice, he felt there lurked a presence he couldn’t run from. Delightful. Nothing like some good old fashioned paranoia to keep you feeling young.
It took longer for Ikora to hunt him down than he thought it would. Maybe she’d been waiting, observing him to see what he'd do, and her curiosity finally got the better of her. She was a scholar, after all. When she finally came calling late one evening, Cayde realized he still wasn’t ready. He still didn’t know what to tell her.
“Cayde,” she chided, her exasperation only detectable to the well-trained ear. He tried not to flinch at her tone. There were Hunters nearby, after all, and he had a reputation to maintain.
“Ikora, long time no see,” he welcomed her over with a jovial wave, and his scouts took their cue to scurry off to their various hiding places throughout the tower. They didn’t want to be within earshot of whatever was about to go down, and Cayde was so proud they’d taken his lessons about plausible deniability to heart.
Ikora looked around a bit, seeming less than impressed with his makeshift accommodations.
“Zavala has been asking after you. He thinks you’ve been avoiding us.”
Big ball of light above, but she knew how to cut straight to the heart of an issue.
“Ikora, you know I would never avoid you,” he made a last-ditch effort to deflect, “I couldn't if I tried.”
“I don't think you've been avoiding me,” she tucked herself into a pocket of shadows inside his little bungalow, arms crossed, “but I know you've been avoiding Zavala.”
Cayde had to laugh, if only to buy himself just one more second of dignity.
“Listen, you're the sharpest Warlock around, so I don't need to tell you things got a little weird up there at our last stand by the teleporter.”
<><><>
“You’re on Ghaul’s command ship. It’s as close to the Traveler as we can get you. Be brave. For all of us.”
There was fire everywhere, the screams of rockets, painful jolts from electric tendons in the severed stubs of his arm and leg, but his whole attention was fixated on the small stream of blood trickling from the corner of Zavala’s lips. Cold fear consumed him, a dread he’d been keeping at bay until that very second.
For a moment, his words failed him.
“Hey, Big Blue, how're you holding up over there? Thought you were a goner when that Legion grunt decked you, but I see you got to keep all your limbs. Doesn’t seem fair.”
Despite the nickname, Zavala graced him with a weak smile, which didn't reach the dim glow of his eyes.
“Lucky me,” he wheezed, with effort, “Although, I'm not sure all of my ribs are attached anymore.”
Before he realized it, Cayde was already crawling over to where Zavala was propped up against the wall. Upon closer examination, he could see that the sides of the Titan’s thick cuirass had buckled together like Spinmetal leaves. It was astounding the man could still breathe.
“What in the hell did you get yourself into out there, Commander?”
Zavala almost looked sheepish.
“One brazen Legionary may have stepped on me.”
Cayde swore. This whole ‘impending mortality’ thing was a real son of a bitch.
“You say it stepped on you? Zavala, those things probably weigh three tons buck-naked, how are you even still speaking?”
“Wonders never cease, my friend” he whispered, with another small smile, the blood clashing badly with his cyan skin. There was a tenderness to Zavala’s manner that had Cayde's heart in knots. He wished Zavala would scold him for talking too much, or losing his limbs, anything to make this feel normal.
“Hang in there, okay buddy? Our favorite Guardian is gonna pull through for us. I know it.”
“I know it, too.” The Awoken closed his eyes, the very picture of faith and confidence. “We need only be patient. Our job, for now, is finished.”
“Hey, Zavala? Zavala, you listen to me.” Cayde reached out with his remaining hand to steady himself on his commander’s red paldron, “Back there, you said you’d never been prouder to be part of our fireteam. But Zavala, you are our fireteam,” he held his gaze, blue light for blue light, “and there is no way I'm gonna let you quit the Vanguard before I do, you hear me?”
Zavala peered at him through one eye.
“Who said anything about quitting?”
Stubborn asshole. Couldn’t he see Cayde was trying to pour his heart out over here?
“I'm just saying, I can barely do this job as it is, and there's no way I could do it without you.”
Softly glowing eyes opened wider, brimming with quiet laughter.
“Cayde-6, are you worrying yourself over me?” He brought one large blue hand to a gentle rest on the remnants of the Exo’s shooting arm. “I’m more worried about the state you're in, my friend.”
Cayde felt he couldn't handle much more of this conversation without something inside his chest imploding. He was trying to keep a lid on his unprofessional affections, and Zavala seemed intent on making that very difficult for him. In fact, this whole ordeal with Ghaul had been a minefield of compromising moments.
“Yeah, well. Lucky that Ghosts have a real knack for fixing up busted Exos. As soon as we get our Light back, I'll be good to go. We’ll be okay.”
He felt a gentle squeeze through his leathers.
“I'll be glad of it. I don't like seeing you this way. I never have, even with the Light.”
Cayde just laughed, and leaned forward to rest his head against Zavala's paldron. He was so fucked.
“Alright, I've had about enough of you being so nice to me, Zavala. Any more of this, and I'm going to have to kiss you.”
Zavala returned his laughter in kind.
“You'd have to somehow reach me first.”
“Ahem,” Ikora cleared her throat, startling the rest of the Vanguard to attention. She, too, had crawled her way over to Zavala’s position, and was kneeling in front of them. “Sorry to interrupt your heart-to-heart, boys, but you may want to pay attention to the comms. Our Guardian is about to engage Ghaul.”
“Of course,” Zavala replied, letting go of Cayde's arm like he’d been burned, “You're right, we should be listening in.”
Cayde wanted to cry, and refused to lift his head from its rest against the Titan’s armor.
“I guess,” he mumbled.
Ikora spared him a pitying glance, and he knew this moment wouldn't be forgotten.
Damn Warlocks.
<><><>
If Ikora had noticed him spacing out, she didn’t let on. She was patient.
“Hey, I know this looks bad,” he sighed, “but don't worry. I’m a big boy, I got it all under control. I just need some time to-”
“Cayde, I'm not here to accuse you of anything,” she gave his arm a gentle pat, “I'm here to make sure you're okay.”
Well that was a twist. Were they all going soft? Well, Cayde had always been soft.
“I am. At least, I think I am. I hope I am?” He reached over to grab her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Anyway, thanks for checking up on me. Or should I say I’m sorry? I sure didn’t mean to worry you.”
“You don't have anything to apologize for. Just remember that I'm here to talk about it, if you need me.” She smiled, emerging from the shadows, “I don't want to stand by and watch this eat away at you. This should be a time of celebration. Embrace it.”
“Yeah, I hear you.” He gave her one of his most winning smiles. “You know, you're one in a million, Ikora.”
“I know, dear,” she winked at him, flashing a wicked grin as she sauntered away, “Zavala is, too.”
Once she was out of sight, Cayde threw his head back against the beam he was resting on with a loud, dramatic clank.
“Warlocks never play fair,” he groaned.
As most of the workers started punching out for the evening, and the crowd was thinning, Amanda sidled over with a sympathetic shake of her head.
“So,” she leaned against his shoulder, “how much does she know?”
Cayde sighed.
“Who, Ikora? Oh everything, naturally.”
“She figured out that you're sweet on Big Blue?”
If an Exo’s eyes could kill, Amanda Holliday would have been the first to know.
“Could you say that a little louder, please? I don’t think the Traveler heard you.”
She just giggled at him. The audacity.
“Relax, partner, no one’s listening to us chit chat over here. We’ve got plenty of room to gossip about your love life.” She nudged him with her elbow. “You thought of any good pickup lines yet?”
“Listen, would you stop talking about it like I’ve got some silly teenage crush? It’s not some dumb, raw magnetism thing we’ve got going on,” he folded his arms, “It’s a lot more subtle than that, okay?”
“Alright, no need to get defensive, I understand.” She eyed him suspiciously. “Do you still wanna bang him, though?”
“Like a door in a hurricane.”
Amanda nearly toppled over in a fit of laughter. Cayde sputtered.
“Hey, what did I just say?”
“Sorry, sorry. It’s just, I’ve known Zavala since I was a little girl, so hearing you say stuff like that about him feels like,” she scrunched up her nose, “like you’re trying to get it on with my grandpa or something.”
“Right, got it. We are never talking about this ever again.”
“C’mon, Cayde.”
“And for the record, pretty sure I’m older than him. So, just, food for thought.”
“Yeah? Well, last I checked, you didn’t crochet me a scarf last winter, either.” She mimed holding a pair of knitting needles. “Food for thought.”
“He did not.”
“He did.”
Cayde was aghast, but mostly because he was jealous about not getting a scarf.
Amanda meandered back to her work station, gathering up her things. Cayde suddenly cottoned on to how late it was getting, and just how alone they were. Jalaal wasn't even darkening the Dead Orbit corner, and Lakshmi's light was off, too.
“I know it’s almost the weekend and all that, but everyone sure cleared out of here in a hurry.”
Amanda paused to look around, shrugging.
“Oh, they’re all running off to make plans for the big shindig tomorrow.”
“Ah, right,” he gave a vague nod, “the big Restoration Celebration, or whatever they’re calling it.”
She turned to grin at him like the cat that ate the canary.
“I heard you Guardians are having your own special, private party, is that a fact?”
Cayde looked away.
“Yeah, that’s a fact.”
“Well then, Romeo, you know what to do. I won’t nag you about it.”
“Not gonna do anything,” he muttered.
Amanda slung her bag over her shoulder, but stopped short on her way out of the hangar, turning back to Cayde one last time.
“You know, I thought an immortal warrior who just had a serious dance with death would learn to start livin’ like they were dyin’. Guess I was wrong.” She turned away with a shrug. “Guess you’re just gonna have to live with your regrets, instead.”
Then the hangar was empty, save for Cayde and a few odd sweepers.
Regrets, huh? Well, there were already plenty of things Cayde regretted. What difference would one more make?
He shuffled together the few odd trinkets he brought with him. It made him feel better to hold on to stuff other folks would see as garbage; maybe if everyone else was stuck with a mess of jumbled Golden Age memories, they would understand. As he headed for the door, thoughts of the party were weighing him down.
Maybe ‘silly teenage crush’ had been right on the nose.
On his way back to his room, Cayde followed his new routine of taking only elevators and covered walkways back to the barracks. He found that he didn’t care to stand in the courtyard at twilight anymore. The open sky of stars no longer enchanted him the way it used to, quite the opposite. He needed to keep a roof over his head now, because the blanket of night instead invited visions of dark monoliths; sharp daggers of pure evil swarmed his vision, all feeling in his body was reduced to a vicious buzzing in his circuitry.
And this was just a taste, he knew it could get worse. It would get worse.
Cayde knew he was not okay.
つづく