As the ship, (Fastion suspected it belonged to Darius' Father or the father's friend), approached the Tower landing zone, Fastion busied himself speaking to a cluster of concerned voices over the radio. Well, Branson did most of the talking and supplemented what the poor ghost was trying to convey in his panicked squeaks. Echo had handled piloting and she set the ship down with such a gentle touch that he barely felt it settle against the tarmac.
Fastion stood from his seat then and gestured for her to intercept the crowd of medics gathered outside and took himself back to the crew quarters. "Darius." He murmured and stopped in the doorway. His friend was huddled about the body of the brother. Mathafew was just as much an adult as the rest of them, but he was small and it gave the impression of youth, and with Darius huddled about him, it also spoke of frailty.
"There's healers outside." He said pointedly and then waited a moment before adding, "They alerted this world's Baribus also. His ghost is here, and he likely is also. They're going to want him." He wasn't certain if the boy was conscious or not- rather hoped that he wasnt in case this went poorly.
Already he wasn't certain whether to encourage this attachment that Darius had or caution against it in case some catastrophe happened in this world also. But, his short piece said, the weapon moved back out of the doorway so that Darius would hopefully take the boy out to the medics otherwise they'd have to come in and take what Darius refused to hand over.
It was a mess. The mission, their fireteam, the whole thing. Still, being the more experienced of their crew, Salem and Echo managed to calm the tide of people wanting to get in and help. So many people, so many thoughts, there was no way Mathafew was ready for so many people at once.
"Easy there! Only a few at a time! Medics only!" she shouted before spotting the grim figure of Baribus Thatch. He marched his way up, his features set like the grim reaper itself as he stepped onto the gangplank.
"Where are they?" he asked, his voice cold and forceful. "Where is my son?"
Stoat appeared beside his head, a little cloud of pixels dissipating behind him. "He wants to know where Mathafew is," he said helpfully, looking over at Echo.
Echo looked at the two and canted her head. "Which means you're probably his dad, right? Hunter, Baribus Thatch?"
"Yes," Baribus replied briskly. "Now where is my son?"
Echo looked over as Salem glanced up the gangway. "He's this way," she said, waving him along as she jogged up the gangplank. "You're not going to like what you see, but he's alive."
She led him through the ship and to the cramped crew quarters of her ship. It was lucky she'd recently gotten an upgrade or she never would've been able to transport them all. With a few taps on a wall keypad, the door to the ship's quarters opened, revealing the three figures of Fastion, Darius, and Mathafew inside.
Echo frowned and led Baribus in, glancing back at him uncertainly. "Salem did his best to fix him up... but Warlock Light can't do much for fixing things after a psychic attack..."
A chill entered the room, weighing the air heavily as Baribus stepped inside. His golden green eyes took in the scene like a hawk surveying the horizon. It seemed they had just finished talking as the Titan turned to leave and found him standing there. Baribus didn't recognize him, most likely a new light caught in the frenzy of the mission. The second he recognized, though only by his jacket and armaments, was the one who helped Mathafew bring him back.
He didn't spare a glance for either of them though, his focus drawn to Mathafew, curled up in the man's arms like a child in the throes of a night terror. His expression softened as he knelt down, reaching over to stroke his son's hair. "Oh, Mathafew," he said gently.
"He can't walk," the young man murmured softly. "We didn't know the Egregore would affect him like this..."
"It's a psychic fungus that feeds on death," the hunter said darkly, "your commanders should have known better."
The other man's jaw clenched at his words but he didn't say anything. Instead, he kept his gaze on Mathafew, pointedly avoiding looking at the stony-faced hunter. Gently, Baribus slipped his hands around Mathafew, as if to pull him away, but he seemed to hold fast, pulling himself closer to Darius if possible. Perplexed, he loosened his grip.
"You must've had quite the impression on him," Baribus said, his tone soft and quiet as he too gazed at Mathafew. "I've never seen him hold onto anyone like that besides me."
"I had a little brother before I came to the tower," the young man said softly. "I guess you could say we connected over that..."
Baribus frowned and ran his thumb over Mathafew's brow. He could sense the man was dodging his statement, or the implications of it anyway. Before he could say anything, the young man leaned forward and whispered to the young psychic.
"Mathafew," he said, his voice soft and gentle. "Mathafew, it's alright. It's okay to let go."
To the hunter's astonishment, his son obeyed, his fingers slowly uncurling from the young man's clothes. In moments, Mathafew released the young man, allowing himself to be pulled into Baribus' arms. Stunned, the hunter looked down at him and then at the young man beside him. Now that he saw him properly, he couldn't help seeing the remarkable resemblances Mathafew had told him about. The narrow eyes, long nose, and contour of his cheeks. Yet there were other traits, one's so familiar yet he couldn't put a name to them.
"Who are you?" he asked, his voice a low whisper.
The young man pursed his lips, his uncertainty plain on his face. "I'm..." he paused, struggling to find his words, before heaving a sigh and shaking his head. "I have so many answers to that question, so many things to say that could explain..." He closed his eyes, grimacing as he fought with the pain of his decisions. "I an anomaly. You could say I'm like the Stranger on Europa... Someone from a different timeline, who came to make sure this one didn't end up like theirs. Like mine..." The young man looked away, his expression so much like the hunter's when he brooded on thoughts he didn't want to voice. Vague, roundabout, not wanting to confront whatever it was that tied them to this supposed time traveler...
Baribus hardened his gaze. "Your name," he said sternly, drawing up the young man's gaze. "Tell me your name and if we have qualms as what I suppose we do, considering how you hedge yourself, we'll say no more of it."
The young man blinked at him as if he'd grown two heads, but quickly regained his composure.
"Darius," the young man replied hesitantly. "My name is Darius."
Baribus felt his shoulders fall.
Darius. His Darius. his young, bright-eyed lad who caught fish to show his mother. His spry, dark-haired son, who ran amongst the tide pools, kicking up water while chasing crabs and sea birds, whose long nose and blue eyes looked just like his while his cheeks, chin, and raven hair looked just like his mother's.
"Darius?" he asked, reaching for the young man, his throat strained and dry. "My Darius?"
The expression on the young man's face lit up, recognition breaking through his nervous facade like sunlight through clouds. In an instant, Baribus had him by the shoulder and pulled him in for a tight hug which was returned with equal fervor. His boy, his son, his sea skipper lad, was returned to him!
