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Title: The Dark Guardian
Summary: When the past comes back to haunt Simmons and his family in the form of a violent, psychopathic murderer, Rahas learns the truth of what it means to be a Dark Hunter. He will protect this little family, no matter what…
Pairings: The usual
Warnings: Violence, death, murder, an irredeemable antagonist. It won’t be gory with unnecessary descriptions of injuries and copious amounts of blood, but it will be dark. Far darker than other sagas, so if that troubles you in anyway, you are most welcome to skip this saga.
AN: I know I’m on hiatus; I couldn’t help myself. A short saga, only 5 or 6 chapters long. And I’ll get straight to the point of the story. Fluffy goodness that NEEDS to happen will happen in oneshots and such.
In other words; prepare for PAIN :’D
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Chapter 1:
The first floor of the labyrinth was the same as always; bright greenery, fresh air, chittering bugs and birds, and the occasional scurrying of hidden monsters.
Rahas supposed he should be grateful for the usual monotony, especially after recent events. The hex plague had largely been dealt with, with only a few reparations. But some of the mental scars still remained. Mostly the utterly uselessness many of the skilled and talented explorers felt during those times.
And, damn it, Rahas was one of them.
Trying hard not to allow his frustrations to show, Rahas turned to look over at the blue-haired landsknecht that had followed him into the labyrinth. Ugh, that sounded wrong as he had practically told the guy to follow.
Simmons turned his gaze away from staring at the foliage around them and looked over at Rahas. He wore his usual carefree expression as he tilted his head questioningly. “Are we going to train here?”
Yeah, might as well. Not like he had anything better to do.
A sharp, high-pitched noise caused Rahas to tilt his head to the side, instinctively listening. It was a sudden noise, not entirely out of place in the labyrinth with its grating bug noises and twittering birdsongs. And yet, it didn’t seem entirely natural.
It sounded like a whistle.
…Meh, probably another guild or something.
Rahas glanced over at Simmons, musing about whether he should ask him if he had heard that sound with him, only to abruptly pause. Because Simmons himself had suddenly frozen to the spot, his eyes, although not wide, stared at the ground. Completely still and silent.
It…was unlike him.
“Hey-“
The question died the second Simmons pivoted, leading with his right foot as he unsheathed his blade. And took a swing at him!
Rahas immediately leaned back, dodging the attack by the skin of his teeth. The fleeting thought of that blockhead was taking training too seriously today immediately disappeared when he found himself ducking and dodging several slashing attacks.
“Hey, what the hell!?”
Ok, so that wasn’t the first time someone swung a sword at him. Certainly not the first time someone pulled a weapon on him. But it was the first time Simmons did either of those things!
As Rahas dropped to the ground, forced into a rolling dodge, another thought flittered into his head; not only was the guy before him not acting like Simmons, he wasn’t attacking like him either.
The attacks were vicious, violent. Served to…kill? Talk about a one-eighty! And it all started after that bloody whistling sound.
Wait…
Hadn’t Simmons mentioned something about hearing noises before? About how…certain noises caused him to do…stuff? Come on, think!
‘It’. He called it ‘It’. A sound caused him to do ‘It’. Attack? Was that it? Attack with ruthless abandon? That had to be it!
Ok, but knowing the cause wasn’t going to do shit unless he can figure out a way to break him out of…’It’.
Another high-pitched whistle cut through the air before Rahas had the chance to formulate a plan of his own. And Simmons immediately stopped his assault, the sword in his hands dropping to the ground heavily.
Instead of looking confused as to what had happened, a look of absolute horror appeared on Simmons’ face. Eyes wide, face pale. Pure horror. At what he had done. What he tried to do.
He…wasn’t in control. He wasn’t ‘present’, as it were. As if the ruthless assault wasn’t already proof of that!
Still crouched on the ground, Rahas stared back at Simmons. “H-hey-“
Simmons suddenly turned on his heel and fled. Away from him, but toward the entrance of the labyrinth. Practically fleeing in horror.
Rahas stared, dumbfounded, only able to watch him until he was out of sight. It was like…Simmons knew what had happened. But he wasn’t present, was he? He couldn’t have been. The Simmons that he knew, that everyone knew, wouldn’t just randomly attack someone.
…Don’t just stand there, dumbass, follow him!
Leaping to his feet, Rahas retraced Simmons’ path and quickly skid through the entrance. He mildly noted that the guard that usually stood by the door to aid rookies had their attention transfixed toward the city. Simmons must have barrelled in that direction.
But where could he have done after leaving the labyrinth? Damn, there were several places he could have snuck off to. Did he go home? Head to the forests located on the other side of the town? Rahas hoped he didn’t do anything…reckless.
As Rahas moved along the main path that led through the town and toward the labyrinth, his gaze fell upon a somewhat unexpectedly sight. After the so-called Hex Plague, Lynus had been forced into a state of rest and recovery. Dressed in his purple woollen poncho that Matron had made for him, he obviously wasn’t on his way to the hospital.
Regardless of where he was going or what he was doing, Rahas was glad to see him. His empathic abilities were just what he needed!
“Where’s Simmons?” Rahas asked the second he reached him.
Lynus jumped, clearly startled. “Wha-?”
“I’ll explain later,” Rahas cut him off abruptly. “Just tell me where he is.”
Lynus continued to look at him with an expression of surprise, yet there was a hint of curiosity in his eyes. He soon snapped out of his shock. “I’ve been on my way to meet him. He’s there.” He pointed to the south. “Outskirts of town.”
Rahas immediately ran off, probably startling Lynus further. Yet, probably not. Those empathic abilities of his where something that was well above Rahas’ intelligence. And probably knew a lot more about the situation than Rahas himself.
But none of that mattered.
After several minutes of running, Rahas reached an expanse of trees. Not unlike the ones found within the labyrinth, just a lot less dense. And far emptier. Other than the blue-haired figure sat at the base of a tree. Head down, knees pulled up toward his chest, and arms wrapped around his legs.
He looked so…vulnerable.
Ok, ok, he had to be careful. Yelling and making demands weren’t going to do shit. Just scare him even more. He needed comfort, not confrontation. But, shit, comfort wasn’t exactly his forte!
Maybe he should have dragged Lynus along with him.
No, no, that wouldn’t do any good. Lynus hadn’t a clue what happened. And Rahas was the one that Simmons had attacked under the influence of…something. He had to do it himself.
Somehow.
Ngh, ok, first thing’s first; don’t yell. Got it. Keep voice calm and soft. And show concern, but not fear. Not easy, but he’d try. The concerned part. He wasn’t scared of the guy. He was…he was Simmons, for crying out loud.
“Hey, are you ok?”
Rahas winced when Simmons tensed. Shit, did he not lower his voice enough? No, the guy was probably just startled. Surprised even. After all, Rahas wasn’t exactly known for being…comforting.
A touch was comforting, right? Lynus gently touched people all the time when he comforted them.
Slowly, as not to startled the obviously frightened landsknecht, Rahas walked over to him and crouched down in front of him. He raised his hands and rested them upon Simmons’ shoulders. Lightly, at first, before carefully adding pressure by resting his hands fully upon his shoulders. “Are you all right?”
Simmons didn’t move, let alone answer him verbally. Just kept his forehead on his knees and his arms wrapped around his legs. And Rahas figured that he would have to stay there, crouched in front of him with his hands on his shoulders until he finally chose to answer. If Simmons thought (or hoped) that Rahas would just get up and leave him, in such a vulnerable state no less, he had another thing coming.
Finally, after a drawn-out silence, Simmons shook his head.
Ok, alright. An answer. And an honest one. Good.
As Rahas mused about what he should say or do next, he took a moment to simply study the usually boisterous man in front of him. And felt a frown tug at his lips.
He…looked like what many of the hostages did, back in the day. Cowering. Scared. Unsure of what to do. Too afraid to move. But it was also…different. He wasn’t scared of those around him. Simmons was scared of himself.
And that was somehow worse.
“Was that ‘It’?” he asked, tightening his hands on Simmons’ shoulders. “Was that what happens when you hear a certain sound?”
Simmons didn’t move. Was he surprised that Rahas remembered? Or cared enough to remember? Or was he too ashamed to answer, still horrified by his own actions? In front of him, no less.
After a moment, Simmons finally nodded his head, still unwilling to pull his face away from his knees.
“You know I’m not scared of you, right?” Rahas asked, though he did not wait for a response. “If I was, I wouldn’t be here. I’m not that nice.”
Ok, so that was an awkward joke, but it was true. If he was scared of the guy, or hated him, he sure as hell would not be crouched in front of him trying to offer some awkward, cringe-worthy comfort.
But it seemed to have worked. Slowly, Simmons raised his head from his knees. His face was pale, though his eyes were bloodshot red. It was evident that he had been crying, and that fact stirred a sense of protectiveness within Rahas. His first instinct, his only instinct really, was to ask who or what was responsible and take care of it himself.
That wouldn’t work here, though. Unfortunately.
“That…happens every time I hear a sound,” Simmons quietly began to explain. “Like that one. A whistle. Everything turns…grey. Like a dream.”
“Do you remember what…happens?”
Simmons nodded his head as his gaze slowly drifted to the side. To stare listlessly, ashamedly at the ground. “I see what I’m doing. But I can’t stop it. I want to stop it. But…I’m not strong enough.”
No, that wasn’t right. There was more to it. Something that Simmons himself didn’t know.
“I’m scared of hurting someone.”
Rahas tightened his hands on Simmons’ shoulders. “I’ll make sure you don’t.” The words fell from his lips suddenly, surprising himself.
Yet Simmons continued to look dejectedly toward the grass, his eyes half-lidded. Was he…about to fall asleep?
“Besides, I now know that if Axel comes at me with an axe, I can at least dodge,” Rahas said as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. Was that a bit of comfort for Simmons? He didn’t know. He wasn’t used to…to this sort of thing, ok?!
That, however, brought a small grin to Simmons’ lips.
Before Rahas could say or do anything else, Shiki suddenly hurried into the clearing with them. He didn’t look frantic, but was obviously concerned as he focused his gaze onto his son.
Dutifully, Rahas took to his feet and stepped aside. He did all he could, so it was time for his father to comfort him. There were no doubt hundreds of questions racing through Shiki’s head, but he didn’t ask a single one of them.
“How are you feeling?” Shiki asked gently as he crouched in front of Simmons much like Rahas had.
“I have a headache,” Simmons murmured, his voice slightly slurred.
“That’s ok,” Shiki immediately soothed as he helped Simmons to his feet. “We’ll have Lynus over and he can fix you all up. Let’s get you home.”
Shiki slipped an arm around Simmons’ waist as he lifted Simmons’ arm around his neck and shoulders, aiding him as he slowly stumbled forward. It was pretty clear that he was suffering from more than a headache. Could his muscles also be affected? After all, some of his attacks were quick and brutal; a strained muscle or two wouldn’t be unexpected.
Knowing that he would likely have to explain what happened to have placed Simmons in such a state (and because he was feeling protective, he’d admit that), he followed the father-son duo as they slowly made their way back to town and through the streets. Shiki didn’t ask a single question during their journey and Simmons didn’t utter a word either.
Finally, after a few minutes, they reached their home. Rahas moved up the front steps to open the door, to allow Shiki to all but carry his son inside. In the living room stood Gerald, with Farley by his feet, likely having been instructed to stay home to prepare for Simmons’ return.
Lynus was definitely the one responsible.
Wordlessly, Gerald reached for Simmons and he helped Shiki lead the listless landsknecht to his room. Again, Rahas felt the need to follow, but held himself back. Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest and dropped down to sit on the couch. He kinda did so in a huff, allowing for some of his frustration at his ineptitude to show.
Wolf Farley had no issues in following, though. The usually overly excited beast companion silently trotted behind the three men, tail still and ears folded back.
He could hear the quiet fussing of the two men towards Simmons, both speaking quietly as if not to bother or concern Simmons.
Finally, after a few minutes Shiki and Gerald walked out of Simmons’ room, leaving the door slightly ajar behind them. The two men soon turned their attentions toward Rahas, and he knew what they wanted.
So he told them what had happened, simply and to the point. He also made it clear that he knew that Simmons’ didn’t want to hurt him, never entertained the thought, and he sure as hell wasn’t afraid of him.
He was more afraid of Lynus’ disappointed parental stare than of Simmons’ swinging a sword.
Shiki frowned at Rahas’ explanation, clearly displeased while Gerald did little to hide his worry. Which indicated to Rahas that Gerald had also witnessed Simmons in such states before. Numerous times, no doubt.
“How long has this been going on?” Shiki asked.
Gerald sighed, his eyes flickering toward Simmons’ bedroom. “It was shortly after…what happened with Sandra. Derek says it’s likely trauma. Born from helplessness of the situation.”
That sounded plausible. And yet…
“It…has only really happened in the labyrinth. Not in town.” Gerald frowned. “Not yet.”
A soft knock at the door put a halt to any further conversations. After Shiki stated that the door was opened, Lynus stepped inside, still dressed in his comfortable purple poncho but with his medical bag also.
The mood shifted slightly as Lynus smiled reassuringly at the three of them before he quietly made his way toward Simmons’ room. He gave a soft knock at the door before he pushed it open, announcing his presence to Simmons.
Unable to help himself, Rahas ventured toward the room also. But he stayed outside, leaning his shoulder against the wall as he peered into the room. There was protectiveness in his actions, but it wasn’t because he was afraid that Simmons would do something to hurt Lynus. He wasn’t worried for either of them.
He just felt…protective.
Simmons laid haphazardly on his bed; one leg dangled over the side while he rested his forearm over his eyes. Farley was by his bedside, front paws on the mattress with his head resting on Simmons’ chest, whining softly as Simmons idly ran his fingers through his fur, scratching his ears in an attempt to ground himself.
He slowly rolled his head to the side. Looking toward Lynus as he fussed with his medical bag. “Are you scared of me?” Simmons suddenly asked, cutting through Lynus’ reassuring prattling.
Lynus immediately paused in his work and turned to give Simmons’ a wholly confused look. “Hm? Scared of you? Now, why would I be?”
Simmons’ didn’t reply and Lynus returned his attention to his bag, not showing an ounce of unease.
“Now, Dr Stiles scares me more,” Lynus said as he pulled out a couple of blue bottles from his bag and as he moved toward the bed, Farley dutifully, but reluctantly, slipped his head from Simmons. The wolf didn’t move far, however, choosing to lie on the floor as Lynus on the edge of Simmons’ bed. “And he’s not that scary to me. So, either I’m a lot bolder than my appearance reveals, or its proof that you are no threat at all.”
That brought a small smile to Simmons’ lips and he readily sat up in bed, drinking the medicine after Lynus instructed him to. As he dutifully drank the two bottles, Lynus rested his hand against Simmons’ forehead, relieving his pains further.
It was understandable that Lynus was just so…good at offering comfort. He naturally eased Simmons’ worries, as well as his ailments. It was understandable. It truly was. He did it so effortlessly, giving Simmons the comfort he so desperately needed. Comforting him in a way Rahas never could.
And that…frustrated him more than it had any right to do.
“Oh, yes, I have something for you,” Lynus suddenly announced as he pushed himself to his feet and quickly made his way back to his bag. After a short moment of fussing, he pulled out a clear glass bottle with a yellow, oily liquid inside.
As he moved to sit on the edge of Simmons’ bed again, he presented the bottle toward him. “You have many headaches, don’t you? And bad dreams? So, I made this for you. It’s an ointment of sorts. Whenever you get a headache, or wake up from bad dreams, put a drop of this ointment on your fingertip and rub it against your forehead scar, ok? It should help.”
Huh…so that was what Lynus had been working on in the seating room. During his recovery period, no less.
But, why the scar?
“Don’t be afraid to use it whenever you like,” Lynus continued. “I can easily make more, so keep that bottle with you always, ok?”
Simmons dutifully nodded his head. “Ok.”
“Good boy,” Lynus said as he ruffled Simmons’ hair slightly. “Now, you get some sleep.”
Some of the colour has returned to Simmons’ face and he even managed a real smile toward Lynus. Albeit a tired one, but a true smile nevertheless. “Thanks, Lynus,” he said as he settled himself down into bed once more.
Lynus granted the landsknecht a smile of his own. His usual gentle caring smile. “Of course. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”
After reassuring himself that Simmons was indeed comfortable, Lynus picked up his bag and quietly exited the room.
As Lynus spent a moment reassuring Simmons’ two fathers, Rahas glanced over at Simmons’ bedroom. The door was slightly ajar, allowing him to see him on his side, eyes closed, hopefully sleeping. He then glanced back over to Lynus. Should he escort him back to inn? He didn’t exactly want to leave, but-
Lynus unexpectedly tapped the back of his hand against the centre of Rahas’ chest. “Stay. Simmons will feel better with you here.”
For a moment, Rahas wondered if he should deny Lynus’ suggestion. Bristle, like he usually did. Maybe even shout something stupid, like what was expected of him. What he was known for. It was his metaphoric armour.
But he didn’t have the energy. He also didn’t want Shiki to go all ‘dad’ on him again. “Fine.”
Lynus smiled. Not a bright, large smile. A soft one. Clearly relieved and pleased. Causing Rahas to briefly wonder if he has somehow read his thoughts. With his empathetic abilities, it wouldn’t be a surprise.
“I’ll be back to check on Simmons in a few hours,” Lynus went on to say as he headed for the front door. “I know he’s in good hands, but I’m just fussy.”
At least he was no longer denying his smothering tendencies.
As for Rahas? He might just have to indulge in his own protectiveness.
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