#The Red War | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

phantomwarrior12 · 2 years

Text

Two Sides (Ch. 4)

Chapter 3 (Evade)

How is she still going?

Lord Shaxx is doing all he can to stay upright, to avoid burdening her with the brunt of his weight but his strength is waning and with it, her capacity to move them along quickly. They've put ample distance between themselves and the Last City. In the hours they've been trudging along, his mind has been darting from the crisis at hand to the moment they shared in that cave.

It's been hours and she has offered up nothing. Not a gesture. Not a spare glance.

He wonders what is going through her mind after all of this. In truth, he hadn't meant to slip up with the term of endearment - he's always been careful to say it only after she's fallen asleep. He was afraid it would complicate matters between them - so much lost time.

Or perhaps, not as lost as it seems. They've never really needed words to communicate how they felt. He can remember the first time he asked her to stay with him. It had been a courtesy more so than anything else. They were friends, he was concerned that she never slept in a bed. He offered to get a second mattress but she'd assured him she didn't mind sleeping beside him.

How long ago was that? Five, perhaps six years ago? She hadn't been out of the grave long when they came to the agreement. He supposes things had progressed from there.

Sleeping on opposite sides of the bed only lasted for so long. The Titan quickly became accustomed to waking with her either on top of him or snuggled against his back or side.

It was normal. Neither ever uttered a word or questioned it.

His least favorite mornings were when he woke to an empty bed. Called away in the early hours of the morning, the Young Wolf would often try to leave him something - whether a note or something she'd found out in the wild, it quickly became something Shaxx looked forward to.

When it developed to cuddling right after getting into bed, that really should have been the Warlord's first clue that there were...feelings involved. Come to think of it, she initiated that part. He remembers that first night like it was yesterday. She'd lifted the blankets, skirted over the midpoint of the mattress and snuggled against his side. Of course, she'd just been on a particularly long and lonely mission. He'd presumed she only wanted the human contact to soothe her.

And still, neither of them said a word.

It became a norm. So much so that a few weeks later, she'd fallen asleep before he returned to the apartment and he went as far as to drag her into his arms because he simply could not sleep without her close.

He'd tried...for two hours.

Another obvious clue he overlooked.

There were nights they'd talk until one of them drifted off. She speaks so little, hearing her voice in those quiet evenings was like a haven for him. He'd give anything to hear it now. Instead, her breathing is all he can make out in the forest. The trample of her boots against brush. The wind catching the tattered remnants of her cloak.

"Guardian?" He says at last and she looks up for the briefest of moments.

He doesn't have a reason for getting her attention, hell, he's had it since they left the City. But that kiss flashes at the forefront of his mind and he has to force himself to keep walking.

"Are you feeling alright?" He asks softly. He had noticed a shift in her gait, a subtle limp and flinch whenever she steps a certain way. When had he noticed it? Long enough, he supposes. It was subconscious - as so many things regarding her seem to be.

She manages a nod, looking back toward the path before them. As if on cue, her leg gives out and this time, Shaxx catches her. Perhaps that's not entirely accurate. His arm around her shoulders snaps downward to tuck under her arm, keeping her somewhat upright but he's certain he can feel the flinch of pain when her opposite shoulder jolts into his armored ribs.

"I think that's enough for today," he says firmly and she shakes her head.

They do need to keep moving but she's obviously injured, likely ignoring it in favor of trying to get them further away from the Cabal.

"You're no good to either of us if you push yourself too hard in the state you're in, dearest." He says softly and her head tilts up toward him. She seems at war with herself, wanting to rest but not wanting to give those patrols a better chance of catching up.

"I have yet to see you tend to your own injuries, Guardian," he chastises firmly, "Sit down, I'll have a look."

She starts to gesture angrily, starts to take a step but he tugs her back, "That wasn't a request, Hunter." He states sharply and her shoulders sag in defeat.

She eases onto the nearest log with his aid. Even beyond the veil of her helmet, he can feel the annoyance and, dare he suggest, resentment burning into his visor. He carefully gets down on one knee, fingers gingerly hooking along the shredded fabric over her upper ankle and shin.

There is crimson dried along its seams and she nearly jerks her leg away when he tries to pry the fabric upward. His firm grip holds it in place and he lifts his eyes to her visor. Beneath his fingers, he can feel the tremor, the subtle shake of her frame as she grapples for any sense of relief.

She is in agony and he is concerned to see what it is she has neglected so severely to elicit such a reaction.

He starts to lift the fabric again and her hand snaps to his wrist, trying to delay it if only for a fraction of a second before her hold falters and she recoils to let him work.

It doesn't look very good.

There's a makeshift bandage - what looks like a piece of her cloak - coated in blood. She fell from a ship, skidded down the side of a cave. Something obviously carved up her leg when she hit the ground on either of those occasions. Looks like she had stopped the bleeding at one point but their journey must have reopened it.

"Ghost?"

Her companion materializes beside her, "Yes, Shaxx?"

"What happened?" He uses the remnants of the cloak to dab away some of the blood dripping down her leg.

"I wasn't there when it happened, but she must have grazed some scrap when she landed...the cave exterior did the rest of the damage."

So it had been manageable until they were ambushed. That is somewhat of a relief to the Titan.

"You're lucky it didn't cut into the bone," Shaxx looks up at her.

The helmet hides her expression but there is somehow a concoction of irritation, pettiness and sheepishness in her frame. He's not even sure how that possible but he wouldn't put anything past his Hunter.

Stubborn.

He tosses the ruined cloth to the side and reaches for his mark, preparing to rip the fabric for another bandage when she stops him. He tilts his head, watches her gesture to her own cloak.

"It doesn't matter where the bandage comes from. It's just cloth," he snorts softly, watching her shoulders sag. She's perfectly fine with sacrificing her cloak but Traveler forbid he do the same.

She's adorable.

"Don't pout, dearest," he touches her other knee gently, "I'm sure my bandages will need tending eventually."

She lightly whacks his shoulder, though he senses the lightness stems from exhaustion rather than consideration. He shakes his head, trying to ignore the way she flinches when he tears the fabric and begins to form it into a makeshift bandage.

He can feel her eyes on him, studying him intently beneath that helmet of hers. He'd like to kiss her and shatter that focus - or perhaps redirect her attention away from the knot he's about to tie. But there isn't a suitable distraction given their situation.

Hold fast, Guardian.

When he synchs it a moment later, her hand grips his sharply, a strangled wheeze slipping out and he stills.

"I'm sorry," he places his other hand over hers, squeezing gently as she regains her breath.

She shakes her head, chin tucking against her chest as if to collect herself. Her fingers release his and he quickly finishes the process of securing it. The instant it's tied off, he eases a little closer, giving her a one armed hug as the other braces him upright against the log.

Her head drops to the crook of his neck, fingers bound in a fist around fur and he rubs her back.

"I've got you. I'm here."

She is trembling. Whether it's adrenaline or exhaustion, he isn't sure. All the same, he wants to stop it but if he pulls her into his lap, neither of them are getting up anytime soon. As is, he's going to have a hell of a time making it to his feet.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?" He asks softly, holding her as tightly as he dares.

"Everything else is manageable...by her standards," her Ghost supplies. "She has a few cracked ribs. The only other major issue is her voice."

Her head lifts but Shaxx doesn't let go.

"Stay there," he orders gently and she seems all too willing to comply as she sags back against his chest. He cradles the back of her helmet as he scans the area for anywhere they can spend the night. They both need to rest.

She snuggles a little closer, the tremors beginning to ebb beneath his hand. He brushes the pad of his thumb along a ridge in her helmet, his mind a whirlwind until his eyes settle on a small cavern not far from them.

"Can you stand?"

The Young Wolf nods slowly as he pulls away. She looks as though she intends to reach for him. A gesture stopped only when he shakes his head. She recoils, waits anxiously as he pushes up to his feet with difficulty. He tries to contain the growl of pain lingering in his chest if only for her benefit. The ascension was pure agony. Nerves are on fire and he doesn't want to even think about the sharp pain in his torso. Somehow, he'd forgotten this sort of pain. His Ghost has always chased it away with a rez. He almost feels alive with it. More alert. But it's also a detriment - it takes a long moment to gain his balance before finally offering her a hand.

Her trembling fingers curl around his steady ones before he carefully eases her upright, "We should have enough cover over there for a bit of a rest." His arm secures itself around her torso, bracing her against his side as he guides her toward a sort of shallow cavern with vines hanging over the entrance. He sweeps the vines aside and carefully eases onto the ground, guiding her down into his lap despite her feeble protests.

"You need to rest. I will keep watch for a bit. Close your eyes." He orders gently and she just stares at him for a moment.

His Hunter is choosing to be stubborn again. He's painfully aware of the risks of stopping but she is no good to either of them if she doesn't regain her strength. He doesn't have a hope in hell of carrying her himself. This is all he can do.

"We'll be fine for a few hours. We're covered for now. Go to sleep."

She doesn't have to speak for him to know exactly what that head tilt means: Stop trying to order me around.

“Please?" He adds in amusement, leaning his helmet down to clink against hers.

She seems to consider it before leaning back and sliding off her helmet. His eyes trace along her features as she tilts her head smugly.

By the Traveler, she is beautiful. Even coated in dirt and sweat, he can hardly believe he holds her affection. So many years, so many nights. He isn't entirely sure he knows when he felt this way but he does and if they survive this, he will ensure she never doubts his feelings again.

The look in her eyes in that cave - how could he have not seen it before? He could blame it on the darkness each night, how the only time he was afforded the luxury of seeing her face in broad daylight was when she was sleeping. But he won't. She is everything to him. He should have done something sooner.

That is his only regret.

"Oh, there's a price now, is there?" He smiles beneath his helmet.

She nods solemnly and he shakes his head in amusement. He scans the area over her head before removing his own helmet. "Do I have your word?"

She nods again, eyes flickering over his features with a sort of anxious excitement.

His fingers gently grip her chin, tilting it up just enough to press a soft kiss against her lips.

He doesn't know how to process the warmth that flourishes through his chest, the aching thrum of his heart at the contact. The flutter when she returns the caress with a tender sort of desperation.

He could get used to this.

Shaxx registers the brush of gloved fingers against his cheek. He tilts his head as if to deepen the kiss but steadies himself and slowly pulls back.

"Sorry," he chuckles softly.

She is smiling, albeit sheepishly. It's adorable. He almost pulls her in for another kiss but settles for tucking some hair away from her eyes, "I've paid your price. Now get some rest."

She cuddles up against his chest. He slides his helmet back on before his chin settles on the top of her head. One arm wound around her, the other on his machine gun now leaning against his thigh.

"Sweet dreams, dearest."

-------------------

There is movement outside. Footsteps that are too quiet and light to be Cabal or Psion.

Lord Shaxx's arm tightens around the sleeping Hunter, lifting his weapon ever so slightly as the wind stirs the vines before them.

"Hey, whoever is in there, don't shoot." A female voice calls and Shaxx frowns.

She sounds human and when the curtain of vines part, the Warlord can't say he recognizes her.

"Two Guardians, huh? Glad to see some of you made it out in one piece." She smiles, looking from the Titan to the Hunter, "She okay?"

"Exhausted. But alive." He says quietly, looking down at the Young Wolf. He is somewhat surprised she hasn't woken up yet. Though he supposes this is the most sleep she's gotten in three days. She's had to be the sentinel - sleep lightly enough in case they were found.

Until he promised to keep watch.

He smiles slightly, touching the back of her head gingerly. His thumb brushes over her hair soothingly and she presses a little closer in her sleep.

"You both look like you could use some medical care. Think you can carry her?"

Shaxx hesitates, looking up at the woman, "I'm afraid she's done most of the carrying since we escaped the City. I can manage along behind you, but I don't think I can carry her safely."

"Right." She nods as she moves to kneel beside them, "Can you wake her?"

He gently shifts to a more upright position, "Guardian," he says softly, guiding her to a seated position.

She wrinkles her nose, one hand holding onto his shoulder to steady herself as the other scrubs at her eyes.

"Time to go." He picks up her helmet.

She blinks slowly, lifting her head for the first time and damn near shoots out of his lap when she sees the woman beside them.

"Easy. My name is Suraya Hawthorne. I'm here to help." She holds up her hands quickly and the Hunter relaxes.

That's not to say she doesn’t swat Shaxx's chest again, as if to tell him a warning would have been nice.

He snorts, holding up her helmet, "You're welcome."

He earns himself a pointed look before she accepts the helmet and slides it on. It's back to interpreting body language now. He misses the vibrant glow of emerald already.

Hawthorne stands and offers a hand to the Young Wolf who accepts it and is helped to her feet. When she turns to help Shaxx, he waves her off.

"Hawthorne will help you along with that leg. I can manage on my own."

She gestures to his ribs irritably.

"We are not arguing about this, dearest." She looks like she melts a little at the term of endearment, her head lowering as she nods reluctantly.

"So, you two are a couple...nice." Hawthorne looks between them and the Hunter rubs the back of her neck. "Didn't know Guardians...did that."

"Focus," Shaxx deflects on their behalf. They haven't discussed that - they haven't discussed anything frankly. But part of him wonders if that really needs to be addressed or if it can become another unspoken norm that neither of them seem to mind. He studies the Young Wolf for a long moment, taking note of the awkward fidget of her hand at her side, the way she deliberately avoids his gaze.

No. This one will need to be addressed, but once they are safe. Once she can speak.

The Titan makes it upright and she seems to relax a bit more, "Where are we headed?"

"Small encampment this way. We've been getting refugees from the City since the attack. You might be able to reach some of your buddies while you're there."

"Very well, lead on."

---------------

It's been a few hours of nothing but silence.

Shaxx keeps an eye on the rear while Hawthorne guides them to the Farm, as she calls it. There's supposed to be a canyon with some ships - the Guardian has already assured Hawthorne she can fly one of them to safety.

He’s kept a close eye on the Guardian’s stride as well. She’s managing well enough but she cannot quite veil the flinch with each step. The way she constantly checks over her shoulder to ensure he’s still there - they’re almost to safety and they can breathe again, at least for a little while.

“Ship’s just up ahead.” Hawthorne announces and he notes the way the Young Wolf straightens up a fraction.

Lord Shaxx follows her gaze, noting the small crowd of people gathered near a number of ships. They look to be survivors from the City. It’s a relief to see so many have survived, he feared more may have been killed after he lost consciousness.

Hawthorne gets the two of them to the nearest ship, helping the Young Wolf settle against the side of the ship before moving forward to address a few people.

Shaxx sinks down beside her, draping an arm across her shoulders. She presses closer, laying her head on his chest as she gently pats his thigh.

“How are you feeling?”

Her hand tilts back and forth in a so-so gesture and he tucks her a bit closer. “I’m sorry.”

An elbow against his side assures him she doesn’t appreciate the sympathy. It also grants him a huff of pain and the inclination she immediately regrets the gesture as she looks up at him quickly.

“I’m fine,” he huffs softly, squeezing her shoulder, “I'm not made of glass." He nods toward the cockpit, "You should familiarize yourself with the controls, dearest.”

Some of the tension in her frame ebbs for a fraction before she shakes her head and straightens up. Clearly, she likes the nickname though he should be more mindful of when he says it. It’s a momentary distraction for her. If he isn’t careful, it could get her killed.

Losing her in all of this, he doesn’t want to think about it. All he knows is that he won’t survive that. Back in the City, in the midst of all the chaos - seeing her off to the armory before they were separated - he’d had only one thought as she vanished through that door.

You had better survive this.

She didn’t know then how he felt and to some extent, she still doesn’t. Warlords are not well versed in fully verbalizing emotions, Shaxx is better than most but still…to have gone as many years as he had without letting her know his true feelings? He’s almost ashamed of it.

All those days in the Tower, all those private sparring matches and evenings cuddled together - why didn’t he say anything?

Her touch against his shoulder draws him from his berating, guiding his eyes up to her visor as her other hand cups the edge of his helmet.

She’s worried about him. She doesn’t have to say it, but he has a sense.

“I’m alright…thanks to you, Guardian.”

She nods, leaning down to bump her helmet against his lightly before she climbs into the ship behind him and moves to the cockpit.

There’s a short period of time that passes as Hawthorne gets people organized and into ships. The Warlord manages to find the strength to climb into the ship, choosing a corner closest to the cockpit to settle as people climb on after him. He notes a quick glance from his Hunter, her hand reaching for his for an instant.

His fingers clasp around hers, giving the most reassuring squeeze he can muster as his head sags back against the wall. The ensuing trip from the canyon to the Farm passes uneventfully - Shaxx even drifts off here and there. When they finally land, when the Young Wolf drops down beside him, he jolts.

His eyes dart around, finally settling on her visor and he relaxes beneath her touch.

“We’ve arrived?”

She nods.

“Help me up?”

She shifts to his side, hooking his arm around her neck. He grips one of the safety bars along the side of the ship and uses it to hoist himself upright. He tries to spare her as much of his weight as he can before they’re standing once more and he leans against the wall to catch his breath. Pain surges through him from the ascent, localized in his torso - it feels as though it’s on fire, every nerve aflame with pain and a burning sensation.

Once again, she’s pressing into his side and he can sense her worry.

“I’m alright…just need a moment.” He leans his head back against the wall to ward off a wave of dizziness, “How’s your leg?” He curses the undertone of pain in his voice but try as he might, he can’t force it out.

She shrugs and he can feel the lift and fall of her shoulders.

“Right…let’s hope they have a medic. Otherwise, this may be an unpleasant next few days.”

His head lifts, casting a glance down at her. Her helmet is turned up toward him, her hand braced against his chest.

“What is it?” He asks softly.

She shakes her head before shifting enough to give him a proper hug. He can feel a subtle tremor to her frame as he winds his arms around her shoulders. Is she…crying?

“Guardian,” he starts softly, squeezing her gently, “Dearest,” he refines with a whisper, “It’s alright.”

Her hands ball into fists against his back, a soft sob slipping out and there is no mistaking the shake of her shoulders.

He can’t begin to imagine what’s going through her mind. They’ve had to keep moving, had to push through - perhaps everything has struck her at once. Perhaps she’s begun to realize they both could have easily died in the last few days. Perhaps it’s pain or exhaustion. Perhaps the shock wearing off. Or perhaps it’s relief. He doesn’t know.

But he holds her.

He holds her for a long while as she clings to him. He holds her as the sun begins to set and her sobs falter to sniffles. He holds her as she lifts her head and nuzzles against the crook of his neck.

I’ve got you. We’re alright.

She lets out a soft huff after a few moments and starts to pull back.

“Feel better?”

She nods shakily but does not lift her helmet. Shaxx manages a step closer to her and tilts her chin up to meet his gaze, “Let’s get ourselves to a medic and once things are sorted, you can get some rest.”

The Young Wolf grips his wrist gently, head tilting with a degree of sternness.

He chuckles softly and he watches some of the tension ebb from her frame, “I’ll join you, not to worry, my little Hunter.”

She nods approvingly before moving to his side and hooks his arm around her shoulders once more. Forever his stubborn Hunter.

Lord Shaxx struggles along beside her as they clamber out of the ship and toward the main encampment of the Farm. There are so many people - some he can identify as City refugees, others must be Hawthorne’s people. Whatever the case, he’s pleased to see so many people alive after the carnage they left behind.

They’re directed to the medical tent where the Young Wolf doesn’t allow them to treat her until she’s satisfied he’s going to be looked after. They set her down on the cot beside his, beginning to take inventory of her injuries and all the while, her head is turned toward him despite their efforts to draw her attention away.

“Hunter, I’m fine. Let them help you,” Shaxx reaches over, patting her hand.

She nods slowly before shifting her gaze to the medic, finally giving him her full attention…or perhaps it’s only because he’s holding her hand. Her thumb is tracing over his in an almost manic rhythm while she’s tended to. Her hand squeezes his with every flare of pain and yet, he remains steadfast as they dress his own injuries.

After nearly twenty minutes, they’re released and permitted to leave the medical tent. The Young Wolf seems a bit more lively with her leg properly bandaged and his own injuries tended to. She seems less anxious, not sparing him a glance every two seconds to ensure he's not going to collapse from pain.

With things as they are, they need to make contact with Zavala - find out who survived and what the plan is. She has the same idea, evidently. They manage to track Hawthorne down and she seems relieved to see both of them up.

“Well, look at you two.” She smiles slightly, folding her arms over her chest, “You look ready for a fight.”

“We have quite the one before us. But to do that, we need to make contact with the Vanguard.” Shaxx nods toward the radio station behind her.

“Funny you say that,” she uncrosses her arms and moves toward them, “Your Commander sent out a message - he’s on Titan.”

The Guardian looks up at Shaxx, her shoulders squaring as she nods.

“Then Titan is where we shall go.”

-------------------------

Taglists are open! Send an ask/leave a comment to be added!

Forevers: @halo-2 @reaped-winnower @forgotten-by-the-stars @sugarcoated44 @cayde-6 @avrosaetos

Shaxx's Guardians: @ataraxia101 @squirrel-stars

#lord shaxx #lord shaxx x guardian #the young wolf #shaxx x guardian #shaxx #suraya hawthorne #destiny 2 #destiny #the red war #destiny the red war #destiny fanfiction #destiny fic #survival fic #phantom writes

30 notes · View notes