Serene, Tranquil. Violent, Hurtful.

Chapter 27: The Fine Art of Bullshit



She watched the outskirts from her perch, gun propped against her shoulder. Cherry growled softly at her side, smelling the air for Hive. She had gotten a new set of gauntlets, favoring them. Something something Ahamkara. The spines running up her arm moved slightly, every so often. She let Cherry chew on the bones every so often, the pliable material plenty strong enough for his jaws.

 

Now, Cherry didn't care for the bones. He knew they were on the hunt. Yetta had switched out for a sniper rifle, peering down the sight at the ground far below her. With a squeeze on the trigger, she took her shot, the thrall staggering back as his head was hit. With another shot, he fell. And with a quick toss, her grenade left her fingers, pulsing explosions of static and energy. She nodded at her warbeast, and Cherry ran down, a feral snarl leaving his chest. 

 

She followed closely, switching to Just in Case as she cut through the Hive like butter. Or tried to. Some of the chitinous chests bore resistance, but she had just recently sharpened the sword. Greenish blood stuck to her armor, and she began getting swarmed, slicing through what she could. With a loud cry, she continued fighting, digging her hands into their eyes. 

 

Somebody shot the Hive in front of her. She turned, seeing Petra keeping watch, her gun in her hands. Yetta watched her raise it, and take another shot. The swarm snarled, hesitant to come closer to. With a quick flick to get the blood off of her sword, the huntress turned to face them, her eyes narrowing behind her helmet. 

 

. . .

 

"I wasn't expecting to see you around here, cousin." Petra sipped her coffee, eying the warbeast. "It's been a while. Although, I shouldn't be too surprised. Guardians come and go, daily."

Yetta placed a hand on Cherry, taking a spine off of her gauntlets, and tossing it to him. "Yeah. There was some…complications." She cleared her throat. "I got sucked out into the vacuum of space," she bluntly explained. "Died a couple times, might've exploded. Not sure." She shrugged.

"…" Petra looked at her, horrified. "Are you alright?" she finally asked. Then she pressed on. "Somehow, I don't think that's what's pushing you."

"How so?" Yetta sipped, keeping eye contact.

"Nobody presses themselves to fight that hard from just a simple accident. It looks like you were practicing for something. Something big." Petra set her cup down, folding her hands. "There's more, isn't there?"

"I'm…I'm not ready to just…openly discuss it. Yet"

"Give me a summary."

"Basically, the Vex fucked with me, and now I have to kill an alternate Carman before she kills me. That sort of thing. Very common."

Petra stared at her in silence, shocked. Yetta merely shrugged. "I need context."

"And context you will receive. Later. When I'm not still jittery after my last warp…thingy."

"It's still going on??"

"Uh…yeah. Anyways!" She quickly changed the subject. 

"I have so many questions."

"Don't think about it too hard."

. . .

 

Yetta sighed as she put her key into the hole, twisting to open the door. She was sore from training against Carman. Carman, who she'd have to kill if she went back there again. The thought ran a chill down her spine, one that wasn't already there from the autumn chill. Stepping inside her cool apartment, she shut the door, sliding down it. She was exhausted. Jason flew into her arms, humming softly. "You've been doing nothing but move this whole week. Take a break," he offered. 

"I have to keep moving. I don't know when I'll end up back there," she whispered into the air. "If I can't beat Carman, how can I beat her corrupted self?"

"Take the break, Yetta. You're still having nightmares about space, about the time line, and every time you wake up from them, I can see you reaching out for somebody." Jason humphed in finality. "At least call Saint, or Crow-"

"He's busy. I shouldn't bother him with this." She placed her head in her arms as Jason nestled into her neck. 

"He's never too busy for you."

"Yes he is. He's got Eramis to deal with, remember? And there's the whole turning live Eliksni into Scorn thingy going down. He's busy."

"I already messaged him."

"What."

. . .

 

Yetta didn't move from her spot on the floor until she felt the door be knocked on. Getting up with a groan, she opened it slowly, staring at Crow. He rushed in, pulling her into a hug. She hesitated, then hugged back, closing her eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry. For everything."

"What do you mean?" she asked as she pulled away. Yetta wiped her eyes, feeling the tears bordering on the edges of her lashes.

"I thought you needed your vanguard. Somebody who can lead and guide you." He took a deep breath. "But you already had that. With Carman. I wasn't what you needed, and you've been hurting because of it."

"I've been hurting regardless." She crossed her arms. "It wasn't because of you."

His hand rested heavy on her shoulder, his thumb tracing the divot there. "I should have came when I heard you went back there."

"I'm managing," she argued, feeling a little defensive. "You've been busy with your own shit. You don't have to worry about mine."

"I am your boss, your vanguard. Your issues are-."

"Enough with the 'I'm your boss' shit!" she snapped. "God, that's all I hear from you anymore. 'I'm your boss, I'm your vanguard'. What about being you?!" Yetta fisted her hands, nails biting into her palms. "What if that's what I needed from you? Was you not being my boss, but my friend? The guy I met when I was a new light? Where'd he go? Why is everybody changing how they act around me? Why did you change?" tears threatened to start falling again. 

"I'm just trying to do my job," he argued back. 

"Fuck that! Crow, everything I know is blurry now. I can't tell if I've fallen back there sometimes. I can't help but wonder when my next nightmare is, my next reminder. I just need a friend, who won't judge me or try to solve anything. I just need a shoulder-!" He pulled her into another hug. 

"Then for tonight, forget that place," he whispered. "And pretend I never changed. Pretend nothing changed. Just for tonight. The Witness never happened, that time line never happened, and you were never trapped in space." She choked out a sob as he spoke, clinging to him.

"I can't. I can't!"

"Then let me help." He walked her to the couch, going into the kitchen and bringing back a bottle of whiskey. 

. . .

 

The night passed in a blur, and before Yetta knew it, she was seated in Crow's lap, chugging straight from the bottle. Her body filled with a strange warmth, unfamiliar. Comforting. And next thing she was aware of, his mouth was on hers, holding her head in place as a tear slipped down her cheek.

The bed was soft as she was finally set down on it, and she closed her eyes as he gently rocked into her, careful not to hurt her. It still hurt, because she wasn't sure if this was what she wanted after all. But it was an escape. And Traveler knows, she needed one. 

And in the morning, she woke up, head throbbing. Her heart joined the throbbing as she looked over at her sleeping vanguard, sighing softly as she got out of bed, her feet hitting the floor. She pulled the blankets over his shoulder, and left the room, grabbing her armor on the way out. A key was left on the bedside table, along with a note reading, "lock up when you leave."

A soft whistle alerted Cherry to follow her, who padded after Yetta. He whined softly, nudging at her hand in concern. 


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