Archive of Our Own ^beta

Drifter can feel Sloane’s prying eyes on him when he and Eris return - the last ones back to the middle chamber, of course. Her silent inquisition that she thankfully doesn’t verbalize. Man, Thunderguns might be a real one.

“Symbols?” Zavala’s tone has a certain tightness to it that indicates Drifter and Eris returning after five minutes and ten seconds is a dire offense against his operation.

“Pyramid here,” Crow volunteers, quick to move things along.

“Guardian,” Ikora follows.

“Drink,” Eris hums thoughtfully for a moment, then deduces, “Which means you should have seen Worm.”

“Indeed,” confirms the commander. 

“We’ll need to line the first lens up to top left, the second to bottom left, and the third to bottom right,” the Warlock finally seems to settle into her own skin, solving a puzzle. She’s felt just a little off this entire time to Drifter, though he can’t pinpoint why or how.

“I’ll go to top right and grab any extra lenses there,” Crow’s presumption makes sense - they probably don’t know what three rooms the Guardians used. Three-fourths chance it was the same.

“I will accompany Ikora to the top left room to begin alignment,” aw, Drifter’s losing his dungeon buddy. Fair, though. He knows Eris was excited to spend a little time out in the field with Ikora. Can’t begrudge her that. He’ll be fine alone. She’ll be fine with one of them fancy no-cooldown ability spammer Lightbearers. Crow will probably come over once he gets his glasses.

“Set up the lenses in each room, and then reconvene in the middle to complete the paths,” Zavala nods, then breaks formation to head back to the Worm room.

Drifter has a nagging feeling they need to start at the middle to determine precisely what route from each beam is viable, because he remembers the Guardian raging in a bar after going through Sundered Doctrine for the first time about how confusing the lens pathing was. Something about not every route actually panning out.

He keeps it to himself, because again, not his show. The others will get it together. For now, he waits until they all depart for their rooms, then he begins tracing the second central lens’s possible routes. Ambles over to a couple of the pedestals, rotates them, sees what angles they can be at. He’s going to look brilliant when his Second-to-Drink pathway lights up perfectly first try, and theirs don’t.

Drifter chuckles to himself and continues testing his alignment, until he reaches the Drink room again. Looks just the same as before. No hostiles. Kind of peaceful, really. 

As long as it stays that way, things will be fine. And if it doesn’t, it’s sad but he kind of trusts Ikora more than himself to keep Eris safe. She’s a Sigma 5, after all. Almost without parallel - though three of the Guardians who do equal her are just a couple backtracked checkpoints away. Funny how he’s found himself surrounded by so many god-slaying, all-powerful Lightbearers after centuries of trying to avoid them. Because so many of them used this ‘gift’ for their own gain. Can he really have lucked into finally finding the perfect amalgamation of ‘good ones’ to run with? 

Zavala’s the one he should be worried about, rationally. Eris has her throne world if something Ikora can’t handle goes wrong. Zavala has no fallback. Sloane will pop a Bubble and start bellowing for help, but, well, sometimes it takes the big guns a bit too long to show up on the scene. He’s concerned for ol’ Blue, but the idea of him being impaled by a Subjugator doesn’t send his system into a panic in quite the same way.

A lens rests near the wheel’s primary holder. Perfect. Almost no work needed here. He stoops down to pick it up and tenses as he senses something behind him. Crow shouldn’t be coming quite so soon - he was the diagonal room. And whatever it is treads silently.

With a quick shove to drop the lens into place, Drifter reaches for Trust and reels towards the door. Oh. It’s just Eris. His hand falls to his side harmlessly. 

“Thought you were with ol’ Rey Rey?”

She shrugs playfully, “I decided I missed you too much.”

He smiles reverently at her, “You’re a real sweetheart, huh?”

“Do not expose that to anyone or you’ll tarnish my reputation,” Eris huffs, the corners of her lips tugged up despite her feigned aloofness. 

“Well, c’mere and help me lift this other lens into position,” he gestures between a prism on the ground in the middle of the room and the other holder.

She strides over and reaches down to assist him in grabbing it. Her hands brush against his quite intentionally, and she grins. Three eyelids bat affectionately as her grip on the lens loosens and she leans over to kiss him. 

Amorous thing today, isn’t she?

Her lips tenderly meet his and he lets his eyes close. The lens can wait, surely. His girl wants his attention. 

How different all those lonely centuries might’ve been, if he met her earlier - or if they got along back when she was Two Eyes. Instead of traipsing around with crews he had to sleep with one eye open for, he could’ve been exploring wherever she wanted. Doing something productive. His idiot Ghost wouldn’t have been as resentful of him. Not that he cares what it thinks. 

Still, it woulda been nice to have someone to follow instead of trying to pick his own way through the muck and choosing the harder route at every turn. Then again, Eris often seems to like doing things the hard way. At least they would’ve been doing it together.

Just as she deepens the kiss, a chillingly-familiar voice screeches from the side of the room, “What the fuck is going on here?”