I wrote this the other day and thought itd be fun (i.e, heartbreaking) to expand upon it. a little fic about how the guys are dealing with Ryans influence over the Hive, and how the Tower has reacted to that too.
If the bloody gunsmith charged a reasonable amount of glimmer for synthesis, Gavin wouldn’t find himself in this situation as often as he does.
A situation wherein he’s running across the Steppes trying to evade the Knight and Acolytes chasing after him. Armed with Boomers, no less.
Rotting starfire lands next to his feet and he squawks, jumping high into the air and barely landing on top of one of the degraded steel buildings.
He scrambles behind a jutting piece of steel, some sort of haphazardly placed beam, and lets it absorb the Hive’s hits for him. He’s just about to quit his patrol all together, say fuck this to Cayde’s wishes and escape. But then he hears a sparrow whizzing by, the engine stops and the Hive roar at their new challenger. Gavin breathes a sigh a relief.
He waits for the Guardian, a Hunter, to finish dealing with the Knight. Then he jumps down and collects some ammo from their rotting bodies. As he’s reloading he thanks the other Guardian.
“No problem,” She says, extending a hand. “Avia. Awoken.”
“Gavin. Awoken.” He says and shakes it warmly. Her body stiffens.
“Gavin? From fireteam AH?” She asks, and Gavin nods, his stomach turning.
Word travels so fast around the Tower, and Hunters were probably the worst for it. Gavin knew, he’d been along the grapevine himself before. But being on the other end of it was awful and horrible and he hated it.
Maybe it was childish of him, but he wished he could apologise to every Guardian he’d gossiped about. If it would get everyone to stop whispering about the Guardian who went insane in the Hellmouth he take the chance in a heartbeat.
“Couldn’t your Warlock teammate just tell those Knights to leave you alone?” Avia snaps him out of his inward plea.
Gavin laughs feebly and shrugs. He tells her that he doesn’t think it works like that. It’s supposed to be a jest. She doesn’t take it as much.
“Seriously?” She says, her tone like a dagger. “What’s the point in him having power over the Hive if he can’t use it properly?”
Properly is a word Gavin doesn’t like, but he can’t find it in him to correct her. He laughs minutely again, shrugs, and thanks her for her help. He summons his Ghost, thinking bitterly that she had no idea what she was talking about. Ryan’s got it under control. Gavin trusts him.
It’s not like Ray’s completely untouchable in the Crucible. He’s good, yes, his Iron Banner ranking backs him up on that point, but if someone took him out it was easy enough for him to just brush off. Respawn, try again. He couldn’t care less.
A Titan about five levels lower than him (Ray could tell from his armour) got lucky with a sniper rifle and pinged Ray in the head. He ‘dies’ and waits for one of his teammates to find him, to revive him so that they could move on.
Standard rules of a Skirmish match; if they found him in time to revive him they’d get more points. So Ray waits.
But as the Titan runs towards his own teammates, Ray hears the laugh, the sneer in their voice.
“I guess the darkness got to you too, idiot.”
Soon enough one of Ray’s teammates comes along and gets him up. They get an extra fifty points in doing so but Ray’s found himself not caring about the rules of the game. All he cares about is that Titan.
Titans could be cruel. If they lived up to their stereotype they could be nothing more than bullies. It was a worse case scenario but there was always one.
One that Ray would kill over and over again, seven times before the round is over.
Ray didn’t think he’d taught the Titan a lesson, but he’d sure made himself feel better. Ray had already had his own battle with the Darkness, and he knows Ryan’s fine. Ryan’s got it under control. Ray trusts him.
Michael hands in his last completed bounty and turns abruptly, almost flattening the low level Warlocks in the process. He would’ve apologised had they not been fucking directly behind him. But they’re also blocking his way, so he waits, takes in their big round eyes and thinks oh, fuck no.
“You’re from fireteam AH, right?” One of them squeaks out, a human Warlock who doesn’t even have a Vanguard issued bond yet. Michael grits his teeth, tells himself to stay calm. They’re just curious, Zavala had told him, humour them and they won’t be a bother.
“Yep. Whaddya want?” He asks even though he knows the answer. He doesn’t feel like humouring them though, but he’ll be as polite as he can before he gets the fuck outta here.
And sure enough another one of them asks it, an Awoken with white skin. He asks just one of the many things Michael’s heard whispered behind his back for far too fucking long now.
“Is it true? Can one of the Warlocks on your team talk to the Hive?”
Michael’s grinding his teeth when he spits out that he’s sorry but he doesn’t have time for this. He has urgent matters to attend to on Mars.
He makes a move to leave but they pester him regardless, please, can he? Is it because he destroyed Crota’s soul? Why is his Ghost all yellow? Is it dying? Can he control the Hive? Is he their leader now-
“Doesn’t he know what happened to Toland the Shattered?”
And that question breaks something inside of Michael. He growls at them to go fuck themselves, ignores the gasps from the Guardians around him and stomps away. He shoves right through them and tells his Ghost to take him to orbit right fucking now.
Ikora and Zavala are going to kill him when they hear how he spoke to younger Guardians but right now, he can’t find it in him to pretend to care.
Younger Guardians have a lot to fucking learn about this job. About the consequences. They don’t know jack shit about Ryan, they don’t know what Michael knows, and they don’t know how smart Ryan is. Ryan’s fine. Ryan’s got it under control. Michael trusts him.
“You should say something to them,” his Ghost tells him. “You don’t need their pity, Jack.”
Jack glances over at the Warlocks gathered around Xur. They’ve long finished their business with the agent of the nine, and are now looking at him. Just. Looking. Jack would feel better if they were whispering, if they were talking about him, about his team. He’s used to that at this point.
But they’re not. They’re just looking at him and smiling softly and Jack is more annoyed that he’s not angry about it.
“They mean well.” Jack sighs, reclining further into the seat. He stares up at the Cabal shields above him. He likes it down here, the little lounge hidden, practically buried beneath the hangar. Unfortunately, his usual quiet spot was overtaken by Guardians wanting to buy exotic weaponry from Xur, so he’s not as alone as he’d like to be.
“If they meant well, they’d be talking to you.” His Ghost tells him, “Asking if you’re okay. Asking if-”
“They don’t care.” Jack tells his Ghost calmly. “They like to pretend they do, but I know why they don’t. They have a good reason to want to stay away.”
His Ghost whirs defiantly. “They don’t deserve the benefit of the doubt, Jack. This is so different from Toland and you know it.”
“Is it?” Jack whispers, and his Ghost floats into his line of sight.
“Yes.” His Ghost confirms. “Do you need me to recite everything I have on Toland? Because if it’ll stop you feeling sorry for yourself, feeling sorry for Ryan, I swear I will.”
Jack laughs at that and sits up again. The Warlocks are leaving. One glances over their shoulder. Jack meets the Exos eyes and smiles at them. One of the other Warlocks tugs at their elbow, come on Scarlet.
Scarlet waves at Jack before turning away, and he doesn’t quite know how to take it. Eventually, he decides to let the small gesture make him feel better, for a little while.
Jack can’t find it in him to be angry, but he can’t find his empathy for the hesitant Warlocks either. Ryan’s not going to end up like Toland. Ryan’s smart. Ryan’s fine. Ryan’s got it under control. Jack trusts him.
“Go fuck yourselves, assholes.”
The Warlocks only sigh and Geoff knows they’re rolling their eyes behind their helmets. There’s not an inch of him that gives a shit. They’d had the fucking nerve to come up to him and tell him shit he already knew, so they could deal with his rage.
“Geoff, you need to be able to keep him under control-”
“It’s Geoff-6 to you asshole, and don’t talk about my teammate like he’s a fucking pet!”
“Don’t you understand?” One of the Warlocks steps forward, “He has an army behind him, Geoff. An army of creatures born of the Darkness. If he turns on us, on the Traveller-”
“He won’t fucking do that.”
“You need to make sure he doesn’t-”
Geoff’s voice rings across the dusty plains of Venus and silences the Warlocks. Geoff’s breathing hard. He can’t tell if he’s doing it for dramatic effect or because he’s tired of all the bullshit he’s had to put up with from other Guardians lately. Especially from his own fucking class.
He could deal with the sympathy stares, the brushes of his shoulder, the forced small talk, but now this?
“I don’t need to be looking over his fucking shoulder every goddamn day just to make sure he’s not – not – whatever, okay? I don’t need to do that because I trust him, and I don’t need to do that just to make you assholes feel better.”
“It’ll be us assholes who’ll have to take care of him if you can’t guarantee the safety of the Traveller. Of the citizens in the city.” One of the Warlocks says, calm and collected and it makes Geoff’s blood boil. “Can you do that? Because the last time-”
“If you fucking,” Geoff snarls, “Say that name, it won’t be Ryan who sends the Darkness after you.”
It’s the wrong thing to say. Unequivocally, the wrong damn fucking thing to say. It’s a threat incredibly devoid of subtlety, and he knows he’s going to have to answer for it later.
In his defence, they should know better than to make thinly veiled threats of their own against his friend.
The Warlocks react by clutching their guns. It’s a reflexive move, one that Geoff laughs at. He makes no move himself, says nothing. He lets the Warlocks summon their sparrows and whiz away.
He’s so fucking sick of this. Of people telling him that Ryan’s become something he’s not. Geoff’s not going to act like he knows what Ryan’s doing with the Hive. He’s not even sure he understands what happened to him in the Hellmouth. But he knows Ryan’s not a threat. Ryan’s not going to end up like Toland. Ryan’s smart. Ryan’s fine. Ryan’s got it under control. Geoff trusts him.
Even if Ryan doesn’t trust himself.
