Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He’d won, but at what cost? A large blade torn through his abdomen, soaking his already dark tunic a deep crimson. His chainmail shattered with bits of metal dug into his skin. Pain erupted through him, his breathing wet with gurgles of blood.

Link swallowed down the lump in his throat, wiping the back of his glove across his face. He was drenched in sweat and his skin was getting hotter and sticker. Each rise of his chest burned sharply. Quite gasps of pain filled the air.

It was a fatal wound, Link knew. He couldn't deny it. He was dying.

There were no potions or fairies that could heal the burn of black blood seeping across his torso.

He licked his bloody, chapped lips, his brows scrunched with deep pain and unforeseen guilt.

Quietly, he could hear his name being shouted. Frantic footsteps, one after the other, searching. They wouldn’t find him before.. Link closed his eyes, willing away that daunting knowledge. He opened his eyes again, feeling the fight behind his body as he forced them open.

The fight had been long and strenuous. The shadow had been relentless in its attacks, and Link returned each sharp cut and swinging blade with his own. No matter how long the fight would last, it was an uncomfortable realization there was only one way to end the back and forth of a never ending fight.

He’d taken the blow unintentionally, but saw to the end with his fist, holding the form of his likeness down till it no longer looked like a perfect mirror.

The shadow was nothing but a puddle opposite to him. Its dark tainted sword on the ground, Link’s blood still covered its black glistening metal. The poison seeped into his blood and burned him alive in agony. But Link did not cry no matter how his body seized in that pain.

He held his chin higher than himself, eyes drained of will, but stubborn with pride. He would fall but he would not fall disgracefully, he decided.

Taking care of the shadow would be his last act as a hero. Protecting his home and those in it. Past, present, and their future.

His hand grasped empty air where his sword should’ve been. He remembered the soft song she hummed that felt like holding home in his palms. The familiarity of knowing at the same time, forgetting who he once was and those adventures before. He regretted never taking the time to listen to those songs closer. Revering them with careful diligence they were owed.

It was for naught now, as he lay on his backside, drenched in his own blood.

Dying, simply put.

If he could, Link would’ve told them all his secrets. Every last one. A selfish desire to not be forgotten to time like his predecessor before him. From the darkness that wormed its way in his heart, to the love that hollowed out a cavity in his chest and made it painful to breathe.

Link had always wanted someone to know him, despite his already standoffish nature and cowardice to hide those darker parts of him. He had gotten close on just one occasion. To breaking down that wall of fears and letting his tainted image bask in the pride of a man who was all but in their knowledge, a father to him.

What would he have thought?

His singular fear was voiced in a sea of many. None as heavy as what that man’s words would be in realization of Link’s flaws. Surely no man was perfect, but how could he possibly stand on the same pedestal as that man?

Head held high and sword raised for battle. Age and experience in his face even from such a young age.

Link felt his skin grow cold when he imagined such a young boy, holding a sword not much shorter than he was tall. Chubby cheeks and roughed up knees.

Far too young to even be away from his maw. Link didn’t want to imagine that little boy. Biting hard on his lip he pressed the thought away.

Link could never live up to the image that man demanded of him. Link was weak and flawed, and everything he couldn’t be. The dark black blood on his hands felt sickening.

Maybe it was better that his cowardice took hold. He would hate to burden the man with any knowledge of his future. Link just couldn’t do that, even if it meant shouldering that knowledge alone.

He breathed a ragged sigh, unsure if he had the strength to hold any longer than a few more breaths, or if he was taking his last.

He didn’t want to die, not this way. Not the way he imagined in his dreams, either. There was still much to prove, much to live for and experience, but that was now cut short by his own darkness striking him down.

They would weep, his brothers, bearing guilt for his death. His family.. they most likely would never know, but maybe that was better if they didn’t. An inkling of hope the village's oldest son would return just as he had left.

It was kinder than knowing the things he’d done to keep them safe. How lost to his own darkness he had become to be struck down so easily.

It was selfish, wishing for just a few more moments. But Link was forever a selfish man, even younger, and he would have been older. It was an unchanging fact as he coveted this death on his own without the others.

His hand curled into a fist, pulling at the blades of bloody grass beneath him.

It still felt too soon.

There were things he was putting off because he believed there was more time. Guilt did not eat him, but he regretted smaller things than his future. He knew that would be safe with the others.

Link had not thought everything would die with him. His blood, and that man’s secrets. There was nothing to share now, no legacy to remain after him. Everything, their stories and their histories, would be forgotten lost to time.

Perhaps if he’d settled quicker, forgotten the sting of heartbreak, Link could’ve left something behind. No, that would’ve been worse. He’d feel guilty leaving behind anything. At least now, nothing was as important as the possibility of longing to love someone or someones..

The voice calling his name grew louder. Behind the thickness in his ears, Link nearly didn’t hear it. But his head tilted back, staring into the trees knowing they were closer now. Still searching.

If he could just— “H—ere,” he gasped, coughing hard.

Everything seemed to freeze, his vision blacking dangerously dark and spotty. His body grew numb in response to the dullness he was feeling around him.

It was.. too dark. He’d thought his eyes had closed. The realization of death so close made him panic. His chest surged with new found energy, scared, at the idea.

He had become too accepting, he realized. Not even attempting to fight to live, but accepting and lamenting and grieving before he’d even drawn his last breath. Fear coursed through him, sparking a need for more than being content, but to live.

He couldn’t die— he wouldn’t.

What would that man think seeing him strewn across the ground accepting a death when there was so much to regret never doing? He would never be able to face them knowing he gave up so willingly when they fought so long to share their own knowledge and experience with him.

He was making a mockery of the man who wore his tunic before him.

It hurt, flipping himself into his side then his belly. Without feeling so numb, he never would’ve been able to brace against the pain to pull himself to his knees, pushing off the ground with gritted teeth. The taste of metal filled his mouth; the scent filled his nostrils.

He hated it. The smell and taste of death that soaked in him.

Link hated death. He was reminded of the older man who’d regretted so much. He knew death intimately, tasting it in the air and in his memories. He bared his bloody teeth at the idea of dying, hating it worse than anything.

He couldn’t let himself die. Not because he was scared to die— his hands still trembled— but because he hated it.

Moving was almost impossible, yet Link found a way through sheer stubbornness. Dragging himself forward, digging his fingers into the dirt to pull himself away from the blood soaked patch of grass.

The rustling leaves and heavy boots through the underbrush grew louder. Nothing was louder than the roaring blood in his ears and the screaming voice in his head. Demanding he quit making a fool of himself and his mentor and stand already!

His head swayed forward and back. His eyes unfocused and refocused in vain attempts.

They were close now. Closer than Link ever thought they would get.

He stopped, his stomach rolling in gagging attempts to choke up his own blood that suffocated and dripped into his lungs. It wasn’t the pain that prevented him from moving, just another reason.

No, Link saw it as a man that prevented him from continuing.

A stern man with sharp but warm eyes. Armor and hair that reflected a brilliant golden image. They shone so bright, their figure shining through the dark trees that reeked of death.

Shade, Link’s lips mouthed.

Behind them, the forest dipped and blurred till it was only the man Link could focus on.

Shade’s mouth moved. His expression pulled into something he’d never seen expressed in his skeletal features, but Link couldn’t hear, and he couldn’t understand that look.

His hands trembled, his shoulders squared and his eyes dilated as he realized why he couldn’t move.

They took a step forward. Link took a shaky crawl backwards. His eyelids fluttered; head shook in uncertainty.

“T—!”

“No.” Was ripped from his pained throat.

Shade was quiet. Stunned or reserved or just plain watching in disappointment, Link couldn’t tell as he moved further back, away from such a godly portrayal of that man. The sword on his back caught the light and Link’s breath hitched painfully between his ribs.

His head spun. Memories of dreams plagued his already troubled mind, filling him with terror.

Link pushed himself upwards, wobbly on his knees. Bracing a hand over his side in some vain attempt to hide the injury from the man. It was far too late for that miracle.

His other hand, shakily reached up to his neck, cupping his exposed skin his high collar could not hide. His swallow was uneasy, watching the man uncertain what method his mentor would strike.

The neck had always been the most preferred in his dreams. Inciting a painful urge to protect the area.

They moved closer.

“I won’t—” — ‘die’, he was terrified to utter that word. Scared to breathe any more of his nightmares into reality.

He snarled, glaring at the man.

He expected a word of wisdom. Something akin to disappointment and clarity, but their words were muddled with their intent, taking another surer step forward, hands placated up and out.

They never reached for a blade, but even weaponless was not a comfort. It was not something Link hadn’t considered.

“No— no m’not. I won’t!” He couldn’t die, not here, not now. Not when he still wanted to live.

They grabbed his shoulder. Link didn’t even realize how close they’d gotten, confused and betrayed as he attempted to fight the man off.

When his fists were useless, and the fight was slowly being lost as he was taken to the ground with the man’s weight pinning him with ease, Link begged—

“Please— please I can’t— I don’t wanna!”

He wanted to live, he wanted to experience. The man holding him held no remorse for Link’s pleas, holding him down with unyielding strength. No matter how he fought, he could not break his mentor’s hold.

Link seized with tears in his eyes. His dreams were taking form. His fabled death he dreamed of, delivered at the hands of the man Link loved the most. He could do nothing but cry, begging for his life with a voice that could no longer form words.

‘I’ll do better,’ he tried to cry.

Shade’s hand pressed into his cheek, pressing his face to the ground. The rest of his weight held his already heavy feeling limbs with ease.

His gibberish had no effect as darkness grew closer into his vision.

He was close now.

The last of his vision was slipping, terrifying him. He panicked more at the idea of dying under Shade’s hands.

Pressure pressed into his side. It was not the sort of pain he often compared to Shade’s sword. He did not feel the burn of light magic erupt under his skin banishing away the darkness within him.

Instead, the wound throbbed in a dull uncomfortable pain. The pressure never moved, even as the roaring in his ears grew quieter and a voice louder with sharp commands and comforting familiarity.

“Stay with me.” Link blinked behind his eyelids, barely conscious now and fading quicker. The pain was slowly receding. He was approaching death.

The fight in him was leaving quicker.

“Link!”

It felt more comfortable now. Oddly welcoming warm like Shade’s arms. He could not imagine the man’s skeleton being so warm.

“It’s alright. I’ve got you.”

His hair was smoothed back out of his face. The rough touch of leather slipped across his forehead, not the boniness of fingers scratching at his scalp.

Link found himself leaning further.

“Shush,” they breathed against his head, warm lips pressed against his temple and hair. “Sleep, I’ll watch you. You’re safe. Nothing’s gonna hurt you. I promise.” They repeated calmly, but their voice sounded strained.

“Shade..” his lips pursed together, calling the man familiarly.

He could see the weak acknowledgment. He saw the way Shade looked down at him with pursed lips.

Link managed a troubled breath through his drying sobs. His body fell nearly limp.

“Shush,” they said again. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.” Warm arms wrapped around his shoulders. Link’s head was pressed against a firm, warm chest.

His words brought comfort compared to his dreams of the man. He clung to the hope of the man, feeling his golden warmth bleed into Link’s shadow.

“You’ll be okay. I’ve got you, Twilight.”

Twilight. Link blinked, confused and yet accepting at the same time of the moniker. He remembered a little now. That name, this man— Time. His eyes fluttered softly, seeing the Shade’s ghostly visage melt into the warmth of living skin and detail Shade’s skeleton could never possess.

Time. Time found him. Time healed him. A hand was still pressed into his side. The pain wasn’t a figment, but no longer felt so dire. No longer so fatal. He swallowed, tasting less blood than before. The stench of death was no longer at his heels.

He smiled, weakly grasping Time’s forearm and squeezing with the last of his strength.

“Time,” he whispered, finally recognizing the man.

The man’s eyes lightened in Twilight realization. The worry in his eyes softened and a breath he was holding exhaled in assurance.

Time seemed to breathe easier at that, holding Twilight closer as he patted his hair down. “Sleep, I’ve got you. You’re okay, pup.”

And Twilight did. Tiredly so, his eyes slipped closed. His body resting and protected by the elder’s side. His dreams were lighter. His regrets eased into simple needless worries.

He’d won, at almost great costs, he would be lectured later. He wouldn’t care, throwing himself into that fight was something he’d never regret, but not something he’d be so quick to repeat. The realization of his fears stirred something uncomfortable.

For now, he’d ignore that pressing uncertainty of his future, knowing, at least for today, he still had tomorrow to experience. He still had his brother to laugh with and his mentor to watch live, and his family back home awaiting another letter.

Tomorrow was still a day Twilight could look forward to seeing.

The darkness receded, a golden warm light wrapped him into a tight embrace. In its comfort, Twilight slept.

Chapter Text

His blood was stained into the leather of his gloves. Though dried, it was still that ugly black color that made Link nearly faint seeing it pour out of the boy’s side. Gripped with a sudden realization how terrible things had taken, and how dire the situation now.

Sprawled across the ground, blood soaked deep into the ground. An ugly black shape melted into the shadows between the trees. Link felt his stomach drop.

His name had been on the tip of his tongue. He had been yelling the boy’s name for what felt like hours, worried senseless seeing someone so young chase their shadow so vehemently as Twilight had.

As though he still had something to prove.

Link cursed quietly.

He knew far too much that feeling.

Needing to overcome his faults to protect those around him. His own face was shared by the same shadow, a forever reminder that Link was just as failable a man as any, but also a man destined to grow stronger than his ambitions.

He cursed to think another young hero needed to fight, to prove to anyone, that they deserved that title.

His fist clenched, letting an ugly look settle into his features as he wondered once again, for maybe the millionth time since meeting these other heroes, if he truly wasn’t to blame for most of their misfortune.

Link knew no hero before himself. Only a legend foretelling him.. his lips twisted into a sneer. He could see it in some of their faces, as if they were expecting something out of him. Longing for something to impress them, but all they’d be was disappointed.

Twilight always had the worst look out of all of them.

Squaring his shoulders and holding his head higher till it almost looked absurd and uncomfortable. There was never a moment he thought would make the boy relax. Especially when near Link, and it made him all the more cautious of how he was perceived.

He couldn’t begin to wonder what Twilight truly thought of him.

Behind those eyes was something mixed with awe and caution, dashed with a look of depression, Link himself had felt on few occasions.

To exist for as long as he must’ve with that look.. Link took a painful breath, knowing at least that look alone was his fault.

The breath that filled his chest, expanding his aching lungs felt sour. His eyes closed just briefly, and it felt like the surroundings changed.

Everything had felt like a blur to him. From seeing the teen chase after a shadow of his own likeness— setting up an uncomfortable notion among the rest of the heroes— to finding him on death's door, defying his injury, to downright terrified.

There was never a moment to sit and think about what had happened before now. Sitting down in an old, worn chair. Next to the bedside of said unconscious teen.

Twilight looked so sickly pale. A mix of blood loss and infection took its toll on the teen’s complexion. Sickness and fever worsened his features. Pale skin never looked right on the teen so used to being outside and working on a farm.

With a quiet glance to the bedroom door, Link slipped his glove off to hold Twilight's. His thumb brushed over that gleaming triangle.

The touch probably wouldn’t have been welcome if the boy was awake, but Link needed something to know they were still there. Still alive and sleeping and calm unlike before. He just.. he needed to know he hadn’t misstepped and hurt the younger.

Link was by no means a scariest looking man, but his years were not pleasant and he was bound to scare small children and some women for his scars. His figure was still imposing. But the kind of fear Twilight showed, made him wonder if it was something else entirely to his scared and often expressionless face.

Yet Link didn’t want to stop holding this boy. He couldn’t think to pry his hands away from this barely there connection.

He was selfish like that.

Undeserving of this connection, one Twilight was clearly traumatized over, and still held it possessive in his hand, wishing and begging Twilight would wake up and never have that horrible look in his eyes again.

“If just for a moment..” he peered at Twilight's face, so relaxed and serene, “I wish you would look at me differently.”

There wasn’t any sort of way Link wanted to be admired by. He would never chastise the teen or other heroes from looking up to him, but he wished it wasn’t out of cruelty.

Out of all the looks he'd receive in his lifetime, Link never wanted to be seen as cruel or hateful.

“I don’t know how..”

Link felt his chest go hollow. Twilight was there, awake and talking, but his voice sounded distant and blank. Talking but not quite sure.

Twilight's gaze flicked around the room. The motion wasn’t smooth even as it landed on Link and looked past him into the distance. It dropped suddenly, to their hands.

A pained noise escaped the teen as he attempted to drag his hand out of Link’s. Twilight used his whole body in an attempt to roll away, but Link pulled him back down. Both to prevent Twilight from escaping, but also from hurting his side.

He stood quickly, and Twilight's expression turned worse. Placing his hand on the younger’s shoulder elicited a fight or flight that forced Link into pinning him to the bed to keep from fighting.

“Twilight, listen to me.”

Twilight thrashed with what limbs he could. Thankfully, still groggy from waking up, Link could subdue any attempts without help.

The lack of noise during their scuffle was what concerned Link. Just a sharp whine and silent attempts of battering Link away. Twilight’s fist collided where his armor didn’t usually protect. It sickened him to think it was the teen’s instincts to attack Link’s unprotected points.

How paranoid had he been to know Link’s weak points?

Link gritted and bared the little pain Twilight’s first managed, knowing more harm was done to the teen than his own body. Using all of his weight, he pressed down.

“Twilight, I’m not gonna hurt you. You need to calm down. I promise you're okay.”

“I’m not!” Twilight fought back. His voice peeled back and raw. “You’re hurting me! You tried to kill me!” Link's eyes widened and felt the breath leave him hollow. Then— “I don’t wanna die! I promise I’ll do better!”

Begging. Twilight was begging Link to let him live. Something utterly broke.

The urge to comfort was stronger than ever, but it was even more now that person couldn’t be Link. Not now.

“Twilight— Twilight look at me.”

Twilight blinked through blurry tears. But he listened nonetheless, something Link hated even more.

“Who are you seeing?”

And that seemed to stun the teen. Confused at the sudden question, he answered in a quiet whisper. “You?”

No— “No, who am I? What are you seeing? What is my name?” Don’t say—

“S-shade..? Shade,” he reaffirmed with another choked sound.

Link didn’t know when he managed to breathe again. The act felt foreign now, but all the more a relief not hearing his name.

It nearly broke him. It hurt him somewhere deep inside to be mistaken for this person, but this was an issue that could be fixed. Link didn’t have to stay this image of a hateful cruel person. Twilight didn’t always have to fear him.

And that alone allowed him to breathe. It gave him undeserved comfort hearing Twilight shake away Link’s fears.

“Forgive me,” he apologized, hoping to stir some goodwill with the boy as his grip went slack on the teen. Twilight didn’t fight immediately. He sunk deeper into the bed, motionless and waiting. Eyes watched him weary and unclear, surely expecting something from Link.

Twilight awaited. Something from Link, that was obvious.

Link rubbed his thumbs down Twilight's forearm. Squeezing gently along the way in hopes of soothing the boy’s lost mind.

It took much coaxing for Twilight to look less like a whipped dog and more like the young man he’d been. Much of it was Link correcting with gentle words and touches, assuring Twilight and speaking to him like a cowering animal.

“I won’t hurt you, Twilight. Never.” And yet Twilight wouldn’t believe him. Nodding solemnly, but holding Link’s attention in his gaze like a wolf ready to snap if pushed. It made the effort of comforting a greater task for Link to even consider achieving.

Twilight was just far too lost in his own head to see Link for who he was and not the monster in his head.

“Shade.” Twilight squeezed his hand. He looked transfixed on their hands, lost even further in his head.

It hurt even worse when Twilight said that name with that much emotion. That sick aching emotion that came from the boy’s chest. Like a son calling his father. It left heavy implications for Link to sort through. He felt the suffocation of drowning under their weight.

“I’m sorry I disappointed you..” they meekly said. “I thought I could—.. I just wanted to be like you.”

“Shush.” Link smoothed back the hair from Twilight's face. He hated how the boy flinched, then lifted his chin, guilty for wanting Link’s touch. “You only worried me.”

Who could ever be so cruel to a boy who could love and fear the same man? Link’s heart ached.

Every way Twilight's breath hitched, side seized, or hands trembled clinching Link’s was pocketed for later consideration. For now, Link lay his hands carefully next to Twilight. Holding his hand, stroking his arm gently, brushing back his bangs, and speaking to the boy in soft affirmations, helped alleviate some of those tensions.

It wasn’t much, but it was something Link was blessed to be able to do. His want to smother the boy in his protection was too much even for him.

“Hey..”

“Hmm?” Link answered with gentle hums, letting Twilight ask and say what he’d like without thinking Link would get angry with him.

“He wore his face.”

Time blanched, leaning a little too far over the teen. “What?”

Twilight frowned, looking far off and away towards the window. “It— the darkness— it wore his face. Taunted me with it. Told me you’d hate me.”

He slowly met Link’s eyes. Guilt hung heavy in those daunting eyes.

“It lied.” Link told him sternly. He wanted to kiss his furled brow. “I could never hate you.”

Twilight smiled a fake, “I had to kill you. It wouldn’t stop— I couldn’t— it kept saying..” Twilight bit his lip hard. “It said things with his face. With your face..”

His smile dropped instantly. He turned back to Link.

“I just— I just wanted it to stop.” His voice cracked. Head leaned back with gritted teeth. “I’m sorry— I didn’t wanna!”

Twilight shattered quicker than Link could pick up the pieces. His voice choked back a wail. He bit his lips to keep from crying out, but the tears in his eyes slipped down the sides of his face with the ease of an emotional boy hurting his weak heart.

“Shu.. shu,” Link whispered. “You did what you had to.”

There was no shame in anyone doing what they needed to for their sake and well-being. Link knew Twilight had been so close. He could imagine it too easily how he could have found the boy if he hadn’t let go of his reservations and killed his shadow. Whether looking like Time or the man that haunted Twilight's thoughts.

“I could never be happier that you're safe. I’d rather you make that decision a hundred times over than see the alternative.”

Twilight’s bleeding form would haunt his dreams with ease. His death even easier. Link was an old man now with far too many nightmares already. Adding more felt tortuous, but certain with a group of heroes so young.

“Listen to me, Twilight.” This pulled the boy’s eyes up to him. A misty shadow hung deep in those blues. Link couldn’t stand seeing them hardly shine. “You are not guilty for living. You should never regret that decision.”

“I know..” he whispered. He looked back to Link, his eyes filled with silent guilt unvoiced, admiration in the way he leaned into his space— wanting more. “I know.. I didn’t mean it.”

Link sighed. He wished the boy wouldn’t lie to him. Not when he was so ill. Not so close to that doorstep.

“I thought.. I thought I’d.. I just thought if I went like you then– then it meant I did something good.”

Link’s jaw set tightly. His gums and teeth ache under the pressure. Twilight whined quietly, somehow sensing Link’s anger and shying himself away under the covers.

It took everything for Link to calm himself. To breathe and not be angry, because Twilight couldn’t tell the difference between his anger and the boy didn’t need anymore stress on his mind or body.

“You always do good.” He said. “I don’t know anyone who’s better.” Just like all those other young heroes, Twilight wore his heart on his sleeve. It was their weakness as heroes, but Twilight wore his in pride, no matter how hurt he ended up.

There were many occasions Link himself lacked empathy for others, hollowed out through his journey, and yet Twilight’s heart seemed carved out for all.

Link didn’t know if it was Twilight’s lack of experience, or if his journey had caused the boy to be so forward in his desire to emulate the perfect idolization of a hero, but Link was confident to say, Twilight's efforts were not in vain.

“You?” Twilight said and Link couldn’t help the bitter laugh that passed his lips.

But Twilight's eyes. They held nothing but love. Twilight didn’t doubt what he’d said. And Link couldn’t understand why he put Link on that pedestal. There was nothing as outstanding as him that the Captain or the Vet hadn’t accomplished. Simply being the oldest shouldn’t have garnered that attention.

And Link knew it wasn’t just that alone that had the younger falling over himself with self doubt. There was more to Shade than just the things Twilight reacted to. His shadow even made it a point to mock the man during their fight.

Link sighed. Feeling his age for once.

“I’m not a man worth your attention, Link.” He reached up, carefully setting his hand on their cheek. Twilight, thankfully, didn’t flinch away. In fact, he leaned into him, rubbing his face into Link’s rough, calloused palm that shouldn’t be adored and worshiped like Twilight was doing to him.

Link was just a simple man from a simple background.

Something in his eyes lit up, looking closer at Link in inspection. His eyes widened and the tension was present but dulled. Twilight had pulled himself from the trenches and looked at Time as if he actually saw him.

“Time?” He pulled away from his touch, reaching for his side with a quiet hiss than the rest of the room in quiet confusion.

Time pulled away, sure his heart would always feel a little achy from all he’d learned. But he wasn’t dejected to see Twilight sit up with a clearer head. Aware of who he was and his surroundings, and most of all. He was thankfully to be recognized as himself again, even if that longing sad look in Twilight's eyes remained fixated on him.

“Careful,” he chided gently, nudging Twilight back into the bed. “You’re not healed. You’ve been suffering from infection and fever.”

“Oh,” Twilight said, his bottom lip stuck between his teeth. He shyly snuck peeks at Time to gauge his surroundings. “And the others?”

Never himself first, Time frowned. “Alright. We’ve rented out rooms in an inn. The Captain’s been with them.”

He reached for Twilight's hand. The teen jerked in surprise, but Time wanted to be selfish. “I’ve been with you most hours.. you weren’t in the greatest condition, and a few days have passed.”

Surprisingly, Twilight eased, holding onto Time just the same. He took in the information well, decidingly staying in bed without a fuss as Time rose from his seat, leaving the boy for a moment in promise of returning with food.

Twilight just nodded quietly, not wanting to make a fuss.

Time wanted to ask. About everything. About his shadow, his journey, his life, and most importantly about Shade. But those were personal matters Twilight didn’t even know he knew about, and Time wasn’t keen on forcing the boy to talk or taking advantage of his illness to find those answers.

It was frustrating.

He moved through the inn, down the stairs and into the kitchen where most of the other boys occupied.

Their eyes drifted to him and his quiet entrance. The liveness of the room just felt so different without their missing member.

There had been a lack of comfort. Unable to assure the other boy’s Twilight’s safety. None knew the severity much better than Time or Warriors. The Captain gave him a look across the room, his frown drawn in the way he’d seen a lot during the War of Ages.

The room's atmosphere had turned into a somber, mournful waiting. Waiting for Time to tell them what they already expected, a day of no change.

Time had been unable to offer the room of heroes much comfort these last few days. It weakened him knowing how they always looked for his reassurance, and he couldn’t even muster his own assurance let alone another’s.

But today was different. With a tired smile he could say, “He’s awake.”

Chapter Text

Things were going slow, Warriors observed. Before the incident, as they dubbed it, their relationship had taken a slow approach. Warriors could spot Twilight's eyes always trailing the older. Shyly looking away thinking he’d be caught. It was a thing young boys did when they had no confidence, or were scared of rejection.

And where Twilight seemed to accept rejection so easily to not even attempt any more than a greeting or two sentence conversation. Time looked accustomed to it, welcoming it as fact dejectedly, knowing what Warriors saw, as uncertainty.

Neither were quite clever to hide the way they looked at each other. The Captain was sure Sky knew too. The younger always wore this dreamy expression, but it always softened more when he spotted the two heroes near one another. Drawn to each other, Sky had told him once, but both too sad and scared.

Warriors thinks he saw what Sky had that day. The want for something, but thinking they were undeserving.

Time always tried to act aloof when he probed for a reason he wouldn’t just talk to Twilight.

The look the man wore was something Warriors hadn’t felt in his age yet. Of tired recognition.

“I just don’t think he’d appreciate it.” Time said, quietly shutting the Captain down.

Those words almost felt the opposite.

Time seemed so sure Twilight’s distance with him was better for them. And Warriors didn’t want to disagree in a relationship not his own, but it was clear the fault was none but miscommunication and expectation wedged in grief.

The day of the incident, Warriors had been watching them closer. For no reason other than the way Twilight shifted on his heels eyeing the landscape of trees, and the way Time watched him almost fondly.

It was as if Twilight knew. A thing Warriors didn’t like to think about was that eerie laughter that echoed in his memories. The dark figure that sauntered beyond the shadows with taunts and laughs, riling and spooking the heroes' nerves.

Their shadow. A form directly taken from them. Warriors rubbed his chest from the memory of pain. Dark magic pierced his soul and pulled those dark tainted thoughts from him. Allowing them to take form and turn their dark blade on them.

It was not his face it wore. Though, Warriors could almost see his own features in its face and the glint of his eyes.

No.. it had taken the form of Twilight.

He remembered watching the heroes stiffen. He remembered how Twilight’s teeth bared almost animalistic and hateful. He remembered hesitating.. and he hated that sinful moment he did, because Twilight’s chest released a sigh. Never once turning to look at them, but knowing— deep within their souls— they eyed him as though an enemy too.

Warriors’ hands were too tainted with blood and dark magic to have faulted another hero for entertaining those dark thoughts. His triforce still pulsed as a reminder to not be without his wits and control.

And he had betrayed Twilight, knowing it was just that single moment that made for Twilight's desperation to be seen as separate from his shadow.

Fighting had enveloped them quickly.

Twilight had taken off after his shadow, intent on driving it back and delivering a final blow, but by the time Warriors could call for the young hero back, noting the trap for the prideful teen, Twilight was far too gone. Driven only by drive to prove himself.

It was only after they’d managed most of the monsters could they see a break.

Time grabbed his shoulder, pulling him close. “I’m going to find him. Stay with the others.” It were the words Warriors remembered within the thick of battle.

It was the way he spoke. Rushed and uncertain, but his grip was strong. Pushing off Warriors he sprinted through the fight, avoiding any other delay to find Twilight.

Warriors thought, right then, that the man was a hypocrite. Lunging into the unknown after telling Warriors it was better to not put him in that place of importance for Twilight. That his hands were already full with the other heroes.

It would have been easy to send Warriors for him. For Sky or Legend, or even Wild. But Time had taken it upon himself to look for the teen that bothered him.

It hadn’t mattered then, as they continued the fight, finishing it with an arrow impaling the last monster to a tree.

There was no more fighting. Only a faint echo of Time’s voice indistinct.

“Wars..” Sky was at his side. A mournful look so off putting on his features. His hands twisted into the white fabric around his shoulders. “Go, we’ll make our way south and follow the river.” He pushed against Warriors shoulder, sending him back towards where Twilight and Time had run off.

“Find them,” he nearly pleaded, keeping his voice low as the others were beginning to gather after collecting their gear and equipment.

He remembered nodding. Sky’s words compelled him to action. He sent them off sure they would be fine as he sprinted through the woods on tired feet. His body ached with cuts and bruises, but he pressed onward, unsure what he would find. His mind reeling in anticipation.

What he had found was quietness. The thicket had been beaten down by multiple people. He stepped through it, and noticed the first signs of a fight.

Dark blood, red and black dripped off the bushes and leaves. Dark marks were left against the sides of trees with deep gashes of a sword tearing its way into the bark.

Moving further into the violence of their surroundings he heard it.

“Shush.. shush..” quiet, and repeated words of encouragement.

“Time?” He spotted the man easily. Sat in the sunshine, his armor reflected brilliance. The golden plates shifted as the man moved.

Stepping closer he saw Twilight, curled around Time’s side, leaning against his chest with closed eyes and a paling face. His tunic was soaked in the red-black blood. Saturating his side more darkly than the rest.

“He killed it.” Time mumbled.

A short distance away was what Warriors could only infer was the shadow. It looked unrecognizable.

Time’s voice sounded empty. Sure, but empty. He held Twilight close, his own tunic bloody.

“Alright,” he moved around to their other side, crouched down and he started to pull at the arm that covered the wound. Pulling at his belts and chainmail till everything was halfway off and he could see the deep gash pulsing black. The veins under the hero's skin flowed black. “Alright,” he said again with more uncertainty.

Infection had no clear certainty. They could try their best but without proper cleaning and medical care, or even a place to keep Twilight stable, it was uncertain if the injured hero would be able to fight against sickness.

“We need to move him.”

They were surrounded by taint. Staying any longer would insure sickness.

Time pulled Twilight closer to him. Looking to hold him all without help. Warriors helped where he could, knowing Time wasn’t there completely. Something had happened and the man was more concerned silent than usual stoicness.

Twilight didn’t stir with their manipulation of him. That concerned Warriors more than Time’s sudden silence.

“How long?”

“A couple minutes.. he was trying to get back to us when I found him.” He answered hollowly. His hand stroked Twilight's side.

Warriors inspected the man before him. There were unfortunate tells about him that told the knight nothing good had occurred when Time found Twilight.

“Did he panic?”

There was enough blood loss, Twilight wouldn’t have been in a sound mind.

“I..” Time faltered. Swallowing a heavy thought, he whispered. “I terrified him.”

Warriors blinked, unsure what to take away from that other than something morbid about Twilight’s life, and the awkward relationship he wanted to have with Time.

He could see the effects it had on Time as well.

This was the reason Time never tried, he realized quietly. Time saw the way Twilight looked at him.

Warriors hummed, not wanting to pry anymore. Those weren’t things he should know. They were private matters regarding Time and Twilight. He had no right to place himself in the middle.

“Do you think he’d wake up in a panic?”

Time looked uncertain. His answer was evident without words.

That wasn’t good. Nothing about this was good.

They didn’t say anything, other than giving general directions to keep their pace together as stable as possible for Twilight’s benefit, though the teen wasn’t awake to complain.

When they’d reached the river, they weren’t far from their new camp. They would’ve gone far enough to out pace the monsters, but not far enough they wouldn’t be found.

“Oh no,” Sky muffled with his hand, already ushering them towards a tent. They were used for rare occasions during storms or injury. Sky already knew what to expect.

“Is Twilight gonna be okay?” Warriors heard Wind whisper hushed to Sky who sat his hand on their shoulder and told them it would just take time.

Warriors wondered if that was another thing he knew, or was praying for.

“Let’s give them space, for now.” He ushered away the young heroes. Only Wild persisted enough to take a good enough look and offer potions before sitting nearest the boiling over pot sat in the middle of camp.

Warriors thanked the blessed gods for Wild mixing up those potions. They weren’t enough, but it helped to see what he was doing. The blood stained Twilight’s skin black and shiny, making it difficult to make heads or tails of what needed to be stitched or cleaned.

He tossed the teen’s soaked tunic out the tent for whoever to collect and try and clean and mend. Warriors settled at his side, doing what he could with what little he had.

Time just sat. Stayed by Twilight's side, hushing softly when Twilight’s brows nudged together, and to brush his sweat slicked hair out of his face. It was hypnotic to see Time’s behavior so fatherly after pretending so hard to not care.

It was as though he'd become another man entirely.

“He thought.. I was going to kill him.”

Warriors blinked, not realizing Time had spoken up because he’d been staring.

His attention dropped back to the injured hero. The lines of stress so evident in his face.

It also explained the bloody handprints down Time’s front and on his arms. Too much blood had been smeared across him if he and Twilight hadn’t scuffled on the ground. Warriors had been hesitant to ask for a clearer picture.

Though, knowing the effects of blood loss, there was no telling what Twilight thought he was seeing.

“We know nothing about him.”

Not his age, his home, his journey, nor his secrets. Twilight was a walking shadow, hidden away and obscured. It was as if sometimes, Twilight walked in shadows to disappear. The quietness and reservations spoke another story of the hero's anxieties for connections.

Time made a humbling look.

Warriors knew Time knew something. Something probably worth mentioning, but too personal to share. Or, not something he had the complete picture of and didn’t want to gossip in front of the boy when he couldn’t even defend himself.

Time finally tore his eyes away from Twilight to Warriors. Quietly, taking in his words with something bitter in his throat.

“Hey.. your shadow,” Warriors stiffened. “It could take on more than just your form, right?”

The Captain frowned. Pressing his lips together he nodded. “It took the form of my Zelda once.. did this one..?” What had its shape taken? What had made Time curious about the dark being.

“No.” He shook his head. “I just.. never seen a shadow not my own, besides yours at least.”

A shadow was not good. To have a shadow, a dark copy, meant one had failed at being a selfless hero. Overwhelmed with power and greedy and cocky.

“Makes you wonder if anyone else..” Was it just the three of them? Did any of the others have the taint in their skin too?

Warriors had come from his own superior cockiness that a witch could draw her power from. Time’s had been the misfortune of dark magic taking apart the fractured thoughts of a boy and man and molding those complicated thoughts into dark matter. But Twilight’s.. they didn’t know that reason.

From the way his shadow spoke and taunted, it seemed to have a more pronounced history. Able to inflict pain through words unlike Warriors’ who fought opposed to the self-image the Captain had thought of himself as unbeatable.

Where Warriors’ shadow fought physically, Twilight’s fought emotionally. A greater toll on one’s mind could fuel the growth of a shadow.

Time’s hand curled into a fist. “That’s something that needs to be addressed.”

They met gazes. It was clear some would have something to say about the ones with shadows. They were the goddess’ chosen. They shouldn’t have shadows. Twilight already carried a heavier weight of unnerving aura on his shoulders. Distrust was already sewed.

“We’ll lose faith.”

“So be it,” Time grunted. His hands touched feather soft down Twilight's unguarded arm, stripped down to bareness as Time did his own hand. “I won’t have him feeling ostracized. Considering his actions, he already knew how we’d react.”

Twilight did have that uncanny sense of knowing how to gauge someone’s feelings.

It was a coming conversation Warriors was already dreading.

“That’s all I can do for now. We should try and make way for a village in the morning, we’ll have a more sterile environment.”

Time hummed.

He’d spoken a lot more recently, albeit about Twilight, but this was different from how he found the man. Less despondent.

“You seem to be doing better too.”

This snapped the man’s gaze up. “I was always fine.”

“If you're going to lie, you’d do better not to do it to my face.” There was at least an effort, if having Twilight involved didn’t make every emotion on his face obvious. “You won’t even let go of him.” He noticed the way Time hadn’t removed his hand. Always finding a way to touch or hold Twilight somewhere.

And it seemed Time finally recognized this, but only further to double down, squeezing the unconscious teen’s hand.

“I’m not judging. I’m just saying your words and actions don’t make sense. And I’m not one to pry,” Warriors wanted no piece of what happened unless Time or Twilight gave it willingly, and even then he’d think there’d never come a day someone went to Warriors for that sort of advice, “but don’t pretend like you were. Don’t confuse him and make him feel any worse than you do.”

They didn’t need to tiptoe anymore, and Time didn’t need to be giving any unintentional signs for the teen to latch onto.

Warriors didn’t know the relationship they sought from each other, but it was clear something drew them together.

Time nodded stiffly, his attention returning to Twilight and staying there. It was there the entire night and most of the next day. Breaks were given and the man slept in the same tent, almost as if protecting the teen from some unknown force he thought would kill him.

Warriors said nothing but assurances, hoping the man would listen.

Sky would just grab his arm and shake his head and tell him, “he’s doing it for his sake.” Warriors didn’t know what that meant, but he hardly ever understood Sky’s secrets.

Things hardly got better when they made it to a village. He’d had to barter for rooms using up most of his funds while keeping their morale afloat. It took great efforts on his and Sky’s part while Time tended to Twilight.

Things however did look up for Twilight’s injuries. Thankfully there was no infection, but sickness was still likely. And from the cold night, Warriors was positive a fever would arrive sooner rather than later for the young hero. It would be up to Twilight then to fight off the rest.

“You should rest,” Sky caught his shoulder after a quiet check-in with Twilight. Time was an ever present presence over the teen.

Warriors snorted, on edge this past couple of days. “How are the others?” He asked instead.

“Exploring the village.” Sky folded, looking wayward towards the entrance of the inn. “They feel it too.. we all do. No one would blame you if.. if anything were to happen.”

Warriors’ expression didn’t change, but he was surprised to hear Sky’s hesitation. He thought the sky-hero would be full of assurances, but his hands twisted the open air with harsh reality.

“He’s doing fine, Sky.” He answered rather poorly. “He’s not dying.”

“But he's not healing, is he?” Sky’s eyes looked so knowing.

Warriors never gave it away. Time was hardly ever out of the room to make a comment, but somehow Sky still guessed, or he still knew Twilight's injuries were potent in dark magic, forcing away all healing.

“It worries me, the magic in him should be trying to deter the darkness, but he..” Sky covered his mouth with grim eyes.

“But it’s not.” He confirmed. “But he’s also not getting worse. His stasis. We’ve done all we can for him.” And that was a heavy thing to admit. Knowing it was a waiting game for either healing to be effective, or Twilight to wake up. And with sickness rearing its head..

Warriors placed his head in his hands. “And right when they were finally getting somewhere.”

Sky perked up to this. “I think.. I think that’s part of the reason.” He said a little ruefully. Warriors couldn’t gather how that could be a reason, but Sky had said odder things. “Neither are very good with their emotions are they?” It was lighter like a joke.

Warriors didn’t want to joke. “Is there an extra bed?”

He couldn’t remember how many rooms he’d sorted for the boys. He’d ended up in a couch or arm chair too many times to remember if he even had a bed.

Sky didn’t even appear upset at the blunt shift, taking it in stride.

“You can sleep in mine. It’s softer than the others.” Sky offered, pulling the tired hero along. “I’ll make Time take a break too, and maybe— maybe I can try to call to Twilight. The darkness might be tampering with his dreams.”

Again there was something Warriors didn’t know was possible, or how Sky would know those things.

“Do what you think would help. There are far fewer things we could mess up now.” Sky nodded as he ushered Warriors into a room and into the softest damn bed he’d lay in. The wear of the past few days had taken its toll and made it impossible to move from the comfort of the bed.

“Things will get better.” Sky’s words didn’t sound like hope or a prayer, but there was an edge of uncertainty. Warriors frowned, wondering if that was again another prediction on Sky seemed to know.

His mind reeled as he slipped further into quietness, his dreams soothed by those words. He could only hope Sky’s predictions were something to put faith in. Where his own thoughts or the voice of the goddess, Warriors would place his faith in the hero, reminding him, for just a moment, how human he really was.

Chapter Text

“You’re not usually..” Wild paused, sizing Sky up over the fire. “Anxious.”

Sky had been twirling the edges of a few frayed ends of his tunic between his fingers. Picking at them and making the endings worse.

He smiled, though it hardly felt much. “I’m usually sleeping through it.”

The correction was, he was always anxious or full of nerves. The others just rarely saw from how often he slept. Sleeping was better than anxiously awaiting.

Wild thought for a moment, then nodded in understanding.

Sky found Wild’s quiet yet accepting nature as a comfort, often speaking to the other during the nights sleep failed him. Though he never looked as on edge as he felt.

“Is it because of them?” Wild motioned to the tent. Time was probably awake, or maybe asleep at Twilight's side. They hardly saw much of him that wasn’t in some state of attention at Twilight or Warriors’ side.

Wild was always more perceptive than others gave him credit, though Sky doubted he could hide his worry from much of anyone.

“And other things,” his smile couldn’t reach as he slumped. His front teeth found his bottom lip.

Wild looked back down to the fire. His thoughts hidden behind that stoney look he wore. He’d had that expression since Time and Twilight's return, and they all learned of the situation. He was his attempt to appear indifferent to issues that deeply concerned him.

“He’ll be okay.”

His words were sure. He was confident. If not in Warriors’ attempts, then in Twilight's ability to recover.

“I’m not worried about that.” He knew better than to doubt a heroes’ resolve. And Twilight thought he had much more to prove than most of them. But worry still gnawed at him, with intuition he couldn’t explain.

Wild perked up, clearly giving Sky the sign to talk out his worries. Always an open ear.

Sometimes it made Sky forget he was older than the teen if barely. Wild and Twilight were so alike in that regard. Too mature by nature that you’d expect them to have been well into middle age. But Wild was younger and Twilight older by maybe a year or two— Wild hummed noncommittally and Twilight always shrugged saying he was an adult.

“Warriors thinks I see the future.” He started. That was something he knew the Captain theorized, but could never fully place. “But in reality, I’ve just gotten really good at.. guessing.” His intuition was never wrong.

Whether an unknown gift by the goddess, a blessing of sorts, or just his own nerves, Sky learned not to question much why he was so sensitive. It was mostly a blessing in times so unpredictable, that a sleepless night every now and then was worth the foreknowledge.

“I fear that shadow caused damage we won’t understand till he’s recovered.”

Wild frowned. “You feel differently? Everyone’s reaction to the shadow.. I don’t understand.”

And for someone without a shadow, it was hard to.

“No, no,” his view of Twilight never had and never would change. He’d connected to the older on a level he didn’t even think Twilight or any of the others realize. Sky knew each hero was their own person with their own torments. A life he didn’t live shouldn’t be judged.

Sky felt them each individually, harmonized so quickly with just the look and knowledge of who they were and had accomplished. But maybe that was just something he knew. Something he felt personally.

“A shadow..” he glanced to the more distant part of camp where the younger heroes slept, then to the tent. “Is what Legend would probably call your connection to darkness.” And that just wasn’t enough to explain what those shadows were truly capable of.

“In reality it’s a reflection of torment, directed at yourself. It’s self-hate, resentment, ego, pride, and jealousy.”

Legend would say he’s giving too much leeway for those who've brought forth an enemy through their flaws, but even Legend didn’t fully comprehend that of what he didn’t have. And that was not a fault, but ignorance.

“Do you have a shadow?” Wild tilted his head like a curious child.

He shook his head. “It’s not something you should ask so casually either.” They were personal matters.

Wild nodded in some understanding of that. Though Sky saw the irritation in his frown at the social aspect he didn’t care for. Wild was always the bluntest of them.

“Having a shadow isn’t.. a good thing. But that doesn’t mean you did a bad thing either. It’s circumstantial.”

“Then.. what does it mean that Twilight killed it?”

And Sky didn’t know that answer in its entirety.

A shadow should be unkillable by logic. It was an innate part of someone’s core. Time had made the comment once of it being like a mirror, each attack and move mirrored with the same force. Twilight shouldn’t have been able to kill his own shadow. Which managed to set Sky’s nerves alight with an itch he couldn’t explain.

“Something wrong..”

Wild was quiet for a moment, picking apart Sky’s answers.

“You can sleep if it’d make you feel better. I can finish watch by myself.”

Sky felt his energy fade almost entirely. Realizing how antsy he’d felt these past few days. He slumped into Wild, knowing the teen usually slept with Twilight near him. His own sleep must’ve been skewed without the man’s comfort nearby.

“Just a little bit.”

Wild nodded though they both knew Sky wouldn’t be woken up easily after he finally knocked himself out. And Wild wouldn’t even try that useless battle.

And it wouldn’t ease his nerves any better, nor had the next few days before and after their migration to a village. He still felt the prickle under his skin of foreboding.

He watched carefully for signs, unsure what to expect. His worries weren’t even eased when he’d snuck that peek at Twilight, seeing how pale his face was. How fresh blood was still prominent over his bandages.

Sky realized it then.

Twilight wasn’t healing—

“I heard you were awake?” Sky knocked against the bed frame, hoping for a short conversation before sleep could take the man again.

Twilight stirred with a heavy breath. “I’m ’ere.” He patted the bed but that seemed to be all the energy he could expend. “Time still gone?”

Time had left shortly, finally dragged away to sleep by the Captain. He would be back in a few hours to watch over the other again. Sky had taken this opportunity to chance a much needed talk.

“Yeah, yeah he is. He’s fine though. Just wore himself a little ragged.”

Twilight hummed, his eyes closing quietly as he leaned his head back. “You’s wanna talk?”

Sky tried not to look as pushy as he wanted to be. “We don’t have too..”

“I know you get those feelin’s in yer bones. S’fine.” And trying to explain something like that to Twilight was a blessing with how natural the man could pick up other’s intentions. It made Sky feel less like he was interrogating the man.

“I’ve been a mess.” He admitted. “Wild’s been worried too. So have the others, they just..”

“Scared?”

Sky frowned. “I was gonna say confused.”

Twilight hummed dismissively. “Just callin’ it ‘nother name. They’s all scared of their own selves at this point. What it is, really.”

“But you don’t blame them..”

Twilight’s gaze lifted, “Hard not to. Things that look off.. they make folks scared.” Sky tried not to think about how Twilight was talking about himself. He felt the man was being too cruel to himself.

“Even if it’s just the feelin’ they get. Can’t blame those who ain’t sinned enough to walk ‘mongst them damaged bits.”

Sky found it harder to understand the other in this half drunken state of awareness.

“Have you been dreaming?” He asked instead.

Twilight shifted just marginally. The correction of a bad laying position, but Sky saw how the talk of dreams ruffled Twilight enough for a visible reaction.

“Who don’t?” He answered shortly. “Just dreams, ain’t nuttin’ special.”

“Maybe for some.. But we aren’t normal, are we?” Sky smiled, just barely. Twilight hummed indifferently.

“Ain’t no different from any other night,” He huffed.

Sky wondered if they really were the same dreams Twilight would startle awake with. With wide eyes and gasping pain. Holding his neck and chest, and grappling with himself while making no sound. It scared him on more than one occasion so see the man be so fearful, yet so accepting of whatever horrors his dreams could conjure.

It wasn’t a comfort knowing the man would rather quietly suffer.

“M’just wasting time.” Twilight mumbled a moment later. Eyes downcast.

“Not mine.” Sky said firmly.

“‘Ventually,” he hummed as if he could brush Sky away so easily, or that Sky would just allow Twilight to wallow.

“This ain’t what you wanted t’ talk ‘bout wasit.”

Sky twisted his hands together, reaching for something to tether himself. “No.. not really. I just— Twilight.”

Twilight’s sharp, reflective gaze shifted to him. Something was lacking in those eyes Sky couldn’t place, but the man’s attention was on him silently.

“Twilight..” Sky took a more serious tone. Twilight raised his eyes to him fully, unbreaking in their contact. “Did— did you killing your shadow do this?”

This unhealable wound. Was it the result of killing your shadow?

Twilight looked away. He always seemed to know more than he should, Sky was similar, but Twilight’s thoughts and opinions came from experience he shouldn’t have.

“Ain’t.. ain’t mine. Ain’t.” He shook his head, mumbling soft. “Was a— was a moment of weakness.” He thumbed over the thick gauze pad still soaked with drying blood.

Even attempting to lean back and stretch out sent dull pains through his abdomen. His muscles clenched painfully, a breathy noise escaped him.

Not his shadow..? But that was impossible. Shadows could change faces, but even with the shift of features, it was evident who was still underneath, and that shadow wore Twilight’s face.

“That.. Twilight that can’t be.” It didn’t make sense.

“Took my face, and pretended.”

“Took your face,” Sky repeated wondering how that could work. It wasn’t like there were books to learn from. He only knew three heroes who had shadows and that was a difficult matter to breach, especially since recent incidents.

Twilight hummed. “It knew me well enough. Been alive longer ‘n me… It’s cruel. Them shadow’s forced to live their lives like us, but they ain’t got the means to disappear. Not without forcin’.”

He.. sounded sympathetic to the shadow. The thing that had cut him down into ribbons.

Twilight spotted his torn expression. Perceptive even in his unaware state.

“All livin’ things deserve pity, Sky. Especially those that can’t die, bound to something undying.” Twilight patted his chest with his left hand. His triforce was dulled in color. “Living and watching and knowing you can’t must be hard for ‘em. Knowin’ their alive cuz they came from somethin’ livin’.” Twilight talked wistfully like a man well in his years.

Sky was stunned to have listened to such sympathic words knowing he’d almost lost his life. It was the thing that made Twilight a hero. His nature to take pity on even the most undeserving and misunderstood. Even Sky didn’t know his limits to sympathy, but it seemed Twilight had none.

“It’d be so long too. I’d seen it. It watched me too, just like him. You aint know nothin’ to its loneliness. Sittin’ ‘n waitin’ wonderin’ if that moment’ll ever come. Must make some folks mad. That waitin’.” Twilight was mumbling now, looking skyward with hazy eyes.

“This shadow.. watched you?” Sky was confused now. Learning the knowledge that shadows persisted through time was worrisome knowledge he was sure Time and Warriors didn’t know, but it begged the question, how did Twilight figure this out?

If that shadow wasn’t his.. wouldn’t that mean it was another heroes’?

Twilight shrugged. “Prolly. Ain’t knew if it were lying. Never hurt me till now, but maybe it ain’t figured it knew how to. Not till.. not till now.” His hand pressed into his side.

“It goaded me, hurt me fer good measure— fer makin’ it wait, but Sky.”

Sky met his troublesome gaze. The violent emotions in his eyes troubled him horribly.

“It was wantin’ t’die.”

A shadow reflected parts of the individual. To want death..

Sky placed his hand on Twilight's shoulder. It was a comfort to feel him underhand. The anxiety building in his chest did no good.

“It wasn't your fault.” He could see the blame in the rancher’s eyes. The way his guilt hung heavy in his grim look.

“Was. Was always my fault.” He refused Sky’s comfort, shrugging violently to relieve himself from the heroes’ hand even if that made him shudder in pain for the jostle. “I was ‘uppose to ease regrets, ‘n I tortured it. I clung hopin’ I ain’t lost ‘em fer good.”

Sky looked helpless, watching as Twilight mourned and cried. His lashes wet with tears and his face aged years for his mourning.

Sky didn’t ask who ‘he’ was— what face the shadow took to torment Twilight emotionally. He didn’t ask why Twilight’s reaction was so violent. Somewhere, he understood, Twilight's heart was too big, even for himself.

The next room over, they could hear the beginning of a muffled conversation— Warriors and Time. The latter must’ve woken from a short nap.

Sky turned his attention back to Twilight, just to find the man looking longingly to the wall. His troubled expression softened recognizing Time’s voice, but not his words.

“M’selfish. I want what ain’t even mine to earn.”

“Attention hardly makes anyone selfish.” Especially a child wanting it. Sky was still a teen, and so was Twilight. No older than he tried to act. A child wanting what a child deserved was not selfish.

“Is.” Twilight rebuttal softly. His eyes just barely open. “Is when they’re dead.”

Sky watched Twilight fall back to sleep, head turned listening to the muffled conversation through the wall. He tried not to think too hard, knowing it would only make himself feel worse for being unable to help.

His words no longer had the ability to comfort like they had before. It wasn’t Sky’s words Twilight needed comfort from.

And.. it wasn’t Sky, Twilight was trying to beg for forgiveness.

With nothing more to do, he stood, letting Twilight sleep as he left back to the main room with the other boys eagerly looking to him for confirmation. The worries in their eyes melted away, and Sky smiled. His gut still twisted uneasily, that of which he managed to hide, except from Wild.

The teen however was relieved, but saw Sky’s own worries. He was invited into the back with the cook, with just a head nod. Sky sighed in some relief, knowing he wasn’t alone in those feelings.

“I won’t ask,” Wild said immediately, head down sorting through utensils. “So help me cook instead.”

And Sky was never more thankful than he was then for something more than sleeping.

Chapter Text

“You’re dying.”

Twilight raised a tired eyebrow. No greeting, just straight to the point. Wild usually was when tense.

A few mornings had passed since his initial wake up. He’d met with the other boys a few at the time. Their faces lifted seeing him actually awake and talking than just through the words of an older hero shooing them out the door.

“G’mornin’ t’you too.” Though it was well into the later hours. He forced himself up a little, gritting back the pain to try and play off the disturbing reality. “Don’t think someone dying would be up, would they?”

Wild’s frown deepened. He never liked being talked down to, especially from Twilight. “Sky told me— he’s been worried. Sky doesn’t like to worry.”

Quick, sharp sentences. Twilight’s injury really had taken its toll.

“Sit.” He said, pushing back the blankets for Wild. The bed dipped and quick enough, Wild was curled against his side, head resting on Twilight's bicep. “Give me yer hand.”

Wild’s hands were just as scared as any normal heroes’. Though there were several more cuts from recklessness than even a boy Wind’s age.

He took the cook’s hand, and placed it on his chest. His heart beat steadily through the pain of his side— almost as if beating in sync. It was steady and warm and gave Wild the reassurance to sink a little further into the mattress.

“You ain’t gotta worry. M’not leavin’ you just yet. I’ve still got time.”

“I don’t want an ‘eventually’ speech.”

Life and death and all natural life courses. Wild never liked them.

Too much death, Twilight told himself. Wild experienced too much of it too young, and had grown into this not-child. Too young to be an adult, but too old to be a kid. Something in between that fluctuated from mood and day.

Still, when Twilight looked at him, and brushed back the curls in his face, Twilight saw himself.

It was a hard thing to acknowledge, because he knew it wasn’t right.

“Alright.. won’t bother then.” He hummed stroking Wild’s back.

He missed having Wild wrapped around him. His sleep had been filled with unease and nightmares.

His breathing felt heavy, the dull ache of his side ever present and hard to ignore. It was a constant reminder that Wild’s words were true enough. Come another couple of weeks the steady drip of blood would kill him long before any infection could.

“M’sorry.. ain’t meant to worry.” He stroked Wild’s back.

Wild shifted, “Sky thinks you know why it’s not healing.”

Ah, Twilight wasn’t surprised. After their talk, Sky had been giving him that look that told him he knew more than what Twilight was willing to divulge. Of course he had his ideas, but even he wasn’t that clever to know what the shadow had done.. Twilight had only thought it had been his punishment.

“Don’t think I’d be willingly sufferin’ if I knew.” He said with a curl in his voice meant to sound playful.

“You always joke when yer scared.” Wild tucked his head under Twilight's jaw. He couldn’t even give Twilight the benefit of the doubt, could he?

“And sleepless nights have made you a horrible person to cuddle with.” He huffed as Wild’s arms tightened around his chest. He had no intention of leaving Twilight.

“Too bad, yer stuck with me.”

Wild was already halfway asleep. Twilight forwent his annoyance to pull Wild closer. He had missed the comfort of another body near him that didn’t radiate the sour taste of guilt and pity. Wild smelled like the bitter taste of longing and the sharp tang of death, but those were comforting reminders.

Those scents made him long for something out of reach.

The moment he felt those emotions stir, he pressed them down. He reeled back from them like a sharp twist of his side.

He needed space, movement— something, he glanced down to Wild taking in his sleeping face, not so suffocatingly dry.

The only good part about sleeping with Wild who was notorious for his clinging habit, was he was as difficult to wake as Sky after a few sleepless nights.

Unclamping the cook’s hands from his back, Twilight manipulated his limbs around a stray pillow, pulling at the side table to roll himself to his feet. He hissed a sharp wheeze, but to have wood under his feet and the weight in his legs eased that thundering pain through his ribs a touch more comfortably.

With a hand pressed on his side and his other outstretched for the bed frame, he took careful steps around the bed. Each step had him gaining back the strength to stabilize himself.

He was careful not to tear at his injury. If Warriors or Time knew he’d even thought to stand up let alone walk a few steps, he’d have a constant sitter, and Twilight was too grown to be fussed over like a toddler.

His muscles flexed leaving him sore. Just walking had taken most of his energy.

Just this far wasn’t enough. He wasn’t satisfied with how little he’d managed.

His eyes drifted over Wild. Then upwards to the window. The sun had set a few hours before Wild had come to him. Just from tilting his head and listening, it was just Warriors awake and he was on the bottom floor sitting in a recliner reading softly to Wind who was already long asleep, but reading aloud calmed the Captain’s nerves so he continued quietly.

Twilight’s feet shifted in contemplation.

He’d most certainly be getting an earful.

Decidedly, Twilight remained stubborn. Slipping out had been easier than expected considering his limitations. Warriors was far too tired to keep any actual watch and was mumbling words under his breath with a tired gaze.

Twilight nudged a blanket over the Captain. The man barely glanced up, pulling it closer and mumbling a soft, “thanks, sprite.” Twilight paused, not sure who Warriors thought he was, but would pretend he didn’t hear it as he walked out quietly.

He kicked out a rock he’d been kicking down the dirt road for the past few minutes. Always a short distance, close enough to keep it from rolling off the road.

He was slowly walking from the village. Their houses growing few and far between with large plots of fenced in fields full of harvests. He thought of Ordon in passing and of the folks still waiting on him.

Maybe he still had a chance to see them. Twilight shouldn’t be so wistful.

He continued on, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade on his hip side. It was more comfortable than on his shoulders that way. He was afraid wearing his sword on his hip would become permanent. Having to shift everything around a throbbing wound hadn’t made him any happier than sitting in that sickness, dampened bed.

But wearing it on his back would cause more harm than good.. he was becoming a hindrance.

He stalked off the road into the trees. His irritation stewed in the back of his mind.

A sharp whistle caught his attention. He turned on his heels, noting he’d walked much further than he’d expected to.

Twilight spun at the crack of twigs, his sword barely angled up past his knees. He expected wildlife, or a stray monster. But he stared at the other who smiled amused at his half-assed attempt of defense. Cradling his wound, prepared to fight— both of them knowing— he was at a disadvantage.

“Always looking to get lost aren’t you, wolf?” They grinned wickedly.

“I killed you.”

They hummed, playfully looking around before back at Twilight. “Did you?”

Oh this wasn’t..

Twilight’s sword dropped. Realizing now, this was his shadow. These were his own evils before him, teasing him.

Their eyes lightened maliciously. “I can be him if you’d prefer?” His face shifted, though Twilight's remained under it, it was clear who he'd pretended to be. But there was only so much he could change. Lighter eyes, a longer nose, a sharper jaw. Everything else was copy paste of Twilight.

And yet, Twilight could still see him beyond those simple details.

Twilight didn’t give the shadow the response it wanted. He wouldn’t let himself be toyed with again, especially not by his own twisted thoughts. He hardly felt guilt for whatever hurt this shadow felt.

“Do ya think it’d matter?” Twilight raised his sword again. His stance shifted into something cleaner than his previous attempts and failures.

They touched their face wistfully, tilting their head in pondering, curious nature. “Didn’t stop you before.” Their ruby eyes slipped to the sword angled at his chest, then back to Twilight's own steeled gaze. “Thought you’d prefer your hands again. Such a more intimate way, don’t you think?”

Twilight’s hands squeezed the hilt of his blade. He tried not to think of his fist cracking hard on skull and bone. The wetness that dripped between his fingers as he ignored the pain of his bruised knuckles. Twilight hadn’t tried to think of their face so close to his as he slammed his hands down repeatedly.

It wasn’t the violence that occurred that caused him to shiver, it was the gentle coaxing voice of false comfort.

In a brief moment of weakness, his breath hitched in a shuddering breath, the shadow had lunged forward and kicked his sword. Sending it into the bushes unseen, and unwise to try and retrieve.

“There.” They said proudly, retreating back and circling Twilight like they were about to begin a wrestling match.

Twilight was forced to circle to lest his back be attacked.

“That’s better. We’ve always preferred feeling with our hands and our strength more than sword play.”

Twilight tried not to show how he was being affected. His quick temper had always outpaced him in youth, and now it was once again. “Shut up.” He spit, wishing he could crack their head open to shut them up.

Their lips twisted. “Is that what you begged him too?”

“He doesn’t matter anymore.” He was dead. That fight was over.

They scoffed. “Now you want to let that skeleton rest? After how hard we clung to him? We all knew what you were doing— the pain you caused because you were selfish!” Twilight winced knowing they weren’t wrong.

Twilight had clung to the remains of a man that should have long since been put to rest. Twilight clung out of desperation and need turned cruelty to have the man’s unwavering attention, but he knew. He knew his actions were unforgivable. He knew Shade’s undertone of irritation for Twilight’s weakness.

Shade only wanted peace.

Twilight was supposed to be his relief of duty, the sword, and his life. Giving the man the peace of mind he deserved to live onward.

He couldn’t even give the man up when he’d met his younger self. Instead the man’s indifference to Twilight only caused more fear to root. His grip, unrelenting.

Just fist curled. “I was scared.” He admitted quietly.

Shade was leaving him. He was the only link to Twilight’s past anymore— before Ordon. He was scared to be without that piece, that unwavering hand of guidance.

“Being scared doesn’t erase your mistakes.” They spit.

They lunged, taking Twilight to the ground. He yelled out as the stitches ripped. They rolled together and Twilight kicked off the ground bucking his shadow off.

Twilight regained his footing, pressing down on his bleeding side trying not to let it distract him.

“You’re just gonna make the same mistakes!”

“I won’t!” He was desperate to prove it.

“Who are you trying to convince!” Twilight stepped back as though physically assaulted. “You still can’t let go of that man! You’re letting him kill you just so he won’t leave you!”

Twilight listened to their haunting laughter, so off and jarring to hear. There was a sickening buzz in the back of his throat. The edges of his vision blurred. Peeling back his hand, his blood was dark in color. It clumped and thickened but oozed without falter.

Shade’s shadow had bled black. It had pressed its hand to his wound, sunk his finger deep into his flesh and bled overtop him from the wounds Twilight had caused.

This was..

“I didn’t..” he didn’t know, he didn’t realize— how could he not realize he was killing himself!

His side felt too warm like his bed. His eyes focused on the blood. It’s taint seeping out of his skin.

He was still there, dead, but not quite a memory. That black blood was the last of his life sunken deep into Twilight so that he could continue to cling to the man.

Just how far had he been willing to hurt himself? Would he have ever realized? Would he have even cared?

Twilight cupped his side. “I need.. to let you go.” But it was too hard. Twilight didn’t want to be alone.

“It’s too late.” His shadow spit.

Was it truely? Everything did feel fuzzy. He’d lost far too much blood during their scuffle, but.. even if he was to die, Twilight still had a duty to uphold. Shade still deserved his peace.

He let out a pained breath, reaching down to a pocket with a hunting knife. His shadow watched, amused by whatever Twilight thought he was doing.

It cut would have been swift had his hands not been trembling from exhaustion. His chest seized as the knife sunk into his abdomen, cutting through the final stitches while dark grimy blood poured out his side.

“Killing yourself any quicker won’t matter.”

Twilight couldn’t speak past the pain, sticking his hand inside till he gripped what shouldn’t belong and yanked with all the strength he could.

It beat in his hand unsteady. It bled dark black down his forearm and to the ground. It had been tethered deep inside, wrapped tightly around like a spider’s web. The rest of him ached at its loss but at the same time, he felt at ease.

Twilight gazed almost in quiet wonder and appreciation. As deceptive as it had been, killing him from the inside, the shadow had offered his own beating heart to Twilight. A poinsious love Twilight couldn’t help but wish he could keep.

But.. he couldn’t.

With flat emotions he crushed it in his hand. It stilled and dropped to the ground tainting the green grass.

His shadow.. looked alarmed, confused by the still beating black heart Twilight had crushed in his palm. It was a sickening sight that made them both uneasy. Twilight’s lack of emotion to his brutal response to the thing Shade had left for him, had made it worse.

“I guess that’s that.”

“Yeah,” Twilight remarked, feeling empty and cold.

They chuckled and lunged, ready to take Twilight to the ground, but he was slow. Their scuffle had not been kind and Twilight’s wound was hurting them just as much as himself.

The noise of their fighting had grown too loud and they had been too absorbed to notice another person.

An arrow zipped through the air. Both Twilight and his shadow’s ears shot up. It cracked through the air. Twilight stared down to his shadow writhing in pain with an arrow lodged in its thigh. A second drew impaling into their shoulder next.

As a third readied, his shadow was already slinking off into the shadows, giving Twilight one final nasty look saying, “try not get your hopes up with this one,” before red eyes blinked out of existence.

Fatigue took its hold. He collapsed to one knee, holding his side with as much pressure as he could manage.

Something was different, the feeling in him lighter. Part of his wounds were severe but Twilight didn’t feel so close to death then.

He couldn’t feel that warmth anymore.

“Twilight!” Sky tumbled to the ground grabbing him, shouldering his side to keep him upright. “I saw it. A dream— oh I knew it! I should’ve—“

Twilight stopped him. Placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. Yer dreams were wasted on me.” If only he had tried to listen.

“Oh,” Sky hugged him tight. “Nothing was ever wasted on you.”

He sighed just holding onto the sky-hero. “The others?” He asked carefully. Sky made a face that was uneasy.

“I panicked when I woke up and you were gone. I told Time and Warriors before taking off to find you.. I don’t think they’ll be happy with me either once we’re found.” His laugh was a little strangled.

“You’re not wrong.”

Twilight’s shoulder jerked involuntarily. Sky frowned looking behind them to Time but flashed Twilight a concerned look, because he certainly felt that flinch.

He kept his head down as Sky explained in better detail his dream he saw with Twilight and his shadow. Twilight carefully mentioned the lighter feeling he felt. Time inspected him for lying.

It wasn’t even a minute before he was tugging out a potion and pushing it into Twilight's hands. Like a miracle most of the wound healed up, scaring over but left tender and bruised. Other parts of him, like the splits of his knuckles and claw marks down his forearms were healed.

Other than his tiredness, Twilight would’ve felt little difference to a regular wound.

Once Time decided Twilight was healed enough, he sent Sky away.

Warriors had taken a different route to Time and urged the younger to search for the Captain. They’d be behind him shortly on their search so Sky nodded giving them both knowing looks before leaving.

Twilight felt the worst parts of him sticking out.

He was just waiting for his fears to become realized, but it was also silly.

Time wasn’t Shade, and though he would one day and that wasn’t something Twilight could prevent, he wasn't now.

“I’m sorry..” Twilight’s voice was quiet, but he thought Time’s silence was entirely deafening. The quiet way he just looked at Twilight made him think of Shade. And the guilt hit harder.

“I’ve been unfair to you. I won’t— I won’t bother you anymore.” He pulled at his tunic that felt too big.

“Oh..”

Twilight’s attention jumped up. Something about Time’s eyes..

“You were never a bother. I think it’s been me.” Time turned and flattened his hands down his thighs. He twisted in place with as much tension as Twilight felt. “I scare you.. don’t I? That first night, you.. you called me Shade. And I won’t pry, but Twilight— Link I’ll never hurt you, and I’ll never let them hurt you either. I promise you.”

“I just— wish you wouldn’t look..no,” he stopped himself. “I just want you to know you’re safe. You don’t.. have to be scared.. of me..”

Twilight’s chest felt concave. His ribs cracked and crushed in on themselves.

Because he wasn’t stupid, he knew he was too obvious, but he never thought— had his fears really been that obvious? How much was he subconsciously looking to the man for? Assurance? Praise? A sword at the throat?

He grabbed his collar tightly.

“No, no I— I’m not. I— I..” he grit his teeth. The words were too difficult to admit. “Shade.. Shade he..” meant more to him than Twilight had the words to say.

Arms circled him. It took a few seconds to realize it was Time, and then longer still to feel the ground in his hands.

“Shush.. I promise you, he’s not here. I’ll protect you.”

“Yeah.. he’s not.”

It was just Time how. Shade and his shadow was gone, even Twilight’s had disappeared back into the darkness it crawled out of. It was just him and Time.

All the words Twilight could say, all the things that would be too selfish to tell a man not ready for the grim fate that awaited him. None were as demanding as the need to warn him that Twilight was not a kind and selfless person. He was not someone to be kind to because he would only take in response.

“Shush.. it’s alright.” Time whispered, rocking them softly.

Slowly, Twilight's hands moved to wrap around Time’s middle. It was a hesitant touch that devolved into something feral and demanding. Squeezing tight and painful, but Time grit through it to sooth the younger hero’s demons.

“I wish I could’ve done this with Shade.”

A hug, warmth, unending protection. Twilight craved the affection of that man’s attention. From a younger, alive, man who hardly knew Twilight, for the man’s darkest thoughts pooled into his shadow that had accused Twilight as being just as ugly on the inside. Twilight didn’t care, he needed this. He needed all of it.

“We can do it again,” Time said like a promise.

Twilight promised himself he’d let go when the time came and they all went their separate ways. He promised he’d be capable of that, but for now, Time’s arms were too warm to fight the slow close of his eyes. The pull of sleep was too strong against his fatigue of fighting.

Time brushed back his bangs, taking in Twilight's tired eyes. “You remind me of someone important.” He said, confusing a sleepy Twilight. His head twisted like a confused animal. Time smiled, pulling Twilight closer. Resting his head on top of the younger.

“I think she’d love to meet you.”

One day, Twilight would’ve thought had he not been so tired, you’ll regrets those words..