Chapter Text
Hyrule was worried, and he wasn’t the only one.
Legend had been off for the last two days, aloof and quiet and increasingly distant in ways completely diametric to his usually salty sulking or bad days. No, those left him with pinched frowns, hovering at the edges but still lingering nearby as if subconsciously still yearning to be close to the group, even if actual interaction was too overwhelming. Usually, when Legend was off it was because something had struck too close to one of his many emotional scars, the tenderness of poorly healed trauma making it impossible for the Chain to predict or prevent the occasional misstep.
But in time they’d at least learned how to make it easier for Legend; giving him space but not leaving him alone completely, drawing him gently back into the fold and surrounding him with the group’s best snugglers, with Time or Wars on watch to talk out any nightmares that arose. It wasn’t perfect, didn’t fix the problems that lay like time bombs waiting to periodically go off in the Veteran’s mind, but it helped , and if that was all they could do then they’d do it to their best ability.
This wasn’t that, though. Legend’s eyes were distant, yes, but also empty and lost, not haunted. He was aloof but not for need of solitude, instead lagging behind or standing still in one place even as camp bustled around him, only sluggishly shaking back to reality if someone called to him or touched him. At first they thought he was sick, but no-outside the odd and concerning behaviors there were no physical symptoms, and there was no sign of head trauma, no matter how frequently Hyrule fluttered around him or how directly Time asked him.
Legend deflected as long as he could, prevaricated and flat out ignored them in favor of begging to be left alone, please, as their heckling grew increasingly somber. But he wasn’t getting better , and like hell was Hyrule going to leave him to let whatever was wrong fester without support. So they hovered and heckled and Legend grew visibly more aggravated before finally ceasing to react at all, seemingly too exhausted to spare energy to be annoyed by them.
That was the moment Hyrule felt afraid; he loved Legend, truly, but for his sour, short-tempered predecessor to be unable to muster irritation -well deserved, at this point, and he was the instigator here- well, that was beyond concerning.
He stopped bugging Legend after that in favor of sticking close to his side, agitated and concerned but at least leaving the Veteran his peace. Legend seemed almost painfully grateful, and that, at last, seemed to weaken the walls he’d put up to finally, finally confide in one of them.
In hindsight, they should have realized much sooner that the problem was Legend wasn’t sleeping . Oh, he was laying down at night with the rest of them, curled up between Hyrule and Sky and Twilight’s combined sleep cuddles with his eyes closed. But it was only after two days - so long, how could they let it go on so long, how could Legend struggle alone, keep this to himself, the stubborn - of the increasingly odd behavior that Warriors, on midnight watch, suddenly noticed that their Veteran was distinctly awake, curled tightly in a ball with his hands crushed against his eyes.
He knelt next to him, reaching carefully over the soundly sleeping Hyrule to rest a tentative hand on Legend’s shoulder, and the fact that it elicited no jump or startle was almost more worrying than if he’d reacted with his usual twitchiness. Instead, the Vet gave a great sigh, dropping his hands to wrap listlessly around his midriff as he rolled his head to give Warriors the single most exhausted, despairing look he’d ever seen from Legend.
The Captain had taken him under the arms and all but dragged him from their sleeping companions, Legend doing the bare minimum to help in staggering along, though there was nothing of belligerence in the slumped line of his shoulders as Warriors hauled him to sit beside him at the fire, a silent command that they were going to talk about this. He wasted no time wrapping a blanket over the other’s shoulders, winding his scarf around Legend’s neck and leaning in close to curl an arm around him, the shorter hero leaning into his side with exhausted gratitude.
He waited, letting Legend relax against him to the sound of the fire’s subtle popping and the soft activity of the forest around them. Finally, the Vet made a quiet, sad sound, still staring miserably into the fire. He seemed to be barely holding on, somehow, and the Captain couldn’t stand by any longer and let it happen, couldn't watch his dear friend struggle on alone.
“What’s going on, Ledge?” Warriors asked softly, voice rolling out smooth and golden, in hopes the moment was as right as it felt; peaceful, liminal, with the Vet right on the edge of giving in and the comfort he so desperately needed just that close , if he’d only open up.
The fire popped, warmth building between them as the blankets kept the crisp, cold night air back. Around them the others slept peacefully, close by and serene and deaf to any soft-spoken words.
Legend’s face crumpled, and so did his defenses.
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The next morning the Captain addressed the issue to the group at large, Legend sitting quietly beside him with downcast eyes.
“How long has it been?” Twilight asked, eyes pinned worriedly on the unresponsive Vet.
Warriors’ voice was grim and very, very unhappy. “He said the last time he slept was 4 nights ago, but I didn’t get the impression that even that was a very good night for him.” His arm tightened where it was slung over Legend’s shoulder, eliciting a slow blink and the shorter hero gradually leaning into his side, sighing softly.
“I’ll be fine,” Legend said at last, each word ponderous and labored but still painfully and precisely pronounced. “It’s just a bad few nights- I tried all the tricks, and none of them worked. Nothing to do but wait it out.” His voice was flat, resigned.
It was terrifying, seeing the normally vibrant and dramatic hero so diminished, reduced to a shadow of his usual brisk self by something so simple and devastating as sleep deprivation.
But Legend was right, in the end. He’d tried the teas and the exercises and none of them worked. Another night dragged on, and this time Legend wasn’t the only one losing sleep, some of the heroes even outside the watch staying up with him to offer soft-spoken stories and solidarity, to try their hand at attempting to ease him into the sleep he needed.
None of it worked, to their despair and Legend’s weakly smug resignation; all they could do was wait, as he’d said.
(For all that the realization was a bitter one then, they had no way of knowing how much worse it would get, how desperately horrible this would grow to be later.)
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The first few days weren’t so bad, even if Legend could admit that they were miserable. The snappishness of days one and two had gone almost utterly unnoticed by the others, which he thinks he’d feel bad about in hindsight, that the undeserving snark and belligerent and sharper-than-usual insults rolled off their backs without them batting an eye.
He made a note to be less of an asshole in the future; they didn’t deserve it, if only for having the patience to put up with his bullshit for this long in the first place.
Days three and four were harder, the exhaustion’s effect on his temper dampened by the lack of energy to act on the irritation. The lack of energy to do much of anything, really, save trudge wearily along to keep pace, too lost in his own wandering, foggy thoughts to weigh in on the conversations like usual.
The next day, he found it harder still to stay aware, to focus on what the others were doing, to keep his mind from slipping into a fugue state. It was that night that Wars finally came over as he ground his palms into his eyes, feeling the burn of frustrated tears but not a single inkling of sleep, despite the paradoxical pull on his mind and body that begged for it.
The Captain had stayed at his side all night, worriedly trying to coax him to lay down, and then to close his eyes, but it was boring, and pointless, and the anxiety of hours of doing it gnawed at him even if he didn’t have the energy to express it outwardly. That morning, the whole Chain was informed, and the halfway subtle eyes on him grew blatant and worried from that point on, someone always hovering at his side and offering a hand.
Another night passed by, and Legend felt himself slip further away.
His coordination was gradually deteriorating, shuffling feet giving way to snagging, stumbling steps. His hands trembled constantly now, and he had to forcibly drag his attention to the present each time someone spoke to him, fighting hard to remain attentive and even then the information was hard to hold onto, hard to keep. It wanted to float away, not sink in and stay.
He barely touched dinner that night, and was only dimly aware of the concern spiking amongst the others as he silently refused any more than a few bites, the pervading exhaustion making even the act of chewing and digesting seem insurmountably wasteful of what little energy he had available.
The next day had… someone beside him, arm around his waist to ward off the worst of his unbalanced wobbles as he walked along. The sounds buzzing around him were comforting, if incomprehensible, and he didn’t realize the dizzy spin of the world was anything past the consistent vertigo until he sluggishly registered someone tapping his cheek, blinking until his eyes focused on a face in front of his- Hyrule’s, frowning and bright with worry as he spoke.
Legend lifted a hand to clumsily pat at his cheek, and Hyrule shook his head, cradling Legend’s jaw in both hands, speaking again, more insistently. “Ledge? C’mon, can you hear me? You with us?”
“Right here,” he replied confusedly, ear twitching once as the words came out thick and clumsy. ‘Rule kept talking, then, but Legend was too tired to try to parse the words’ meanings, letting himself slip back into the blank mindlessness that was all he had energy for now.
“We’ll fix this, Legend, I swear. We’re gonna help you,” he heard, wobbling like a warped mirror in his mind until it was nonsense.
Link? Hello?
Legend struggled on.
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“We can’t keep waiting! Look at him!” Hyrule cried fearfully, gesturing to the pale, unresponsive form before him, slumped against Twilight’s shoulder.
His head was listing to the side, eyes heavy-lidded and underlined by viciously bruised, dark skin as they stared blankly into the middle distance. They’d come to a stop after Legend had stumbled into a rabbit hole, nearly going down entirely had Twilight not been at his side to catch him. Any attempts to ask if he was alright went unacknowledged, but forcibly sitting him down and checking had proven that his ankle was indeed fine, the loose-limbed weakness of the Vet’s walking having been all that saved him from a sprain.
So far as other fine things went, Legend was not, though. His pulse was far too fast for the agonizingly slow pace they’d maintained to allow their staggering friend to keep up. His breath wasn’t labored despite the apparent strain, but shallow and fast. His appetite had diminished sharply, getting anything more than a few bites into him a struggle that was painful to watch and undergo, a battle to get and keep his attention long enough to force him to chew and swallow before fading out again. They were lucky he was willing enough to drink when prompted, but none of that changed the fact that this had to stop , as soon as possible.
“What if we just knock him out?” Wind asked nervously, jumping at the scandalized looks he got. “I know it’s not sleep, but maybe it would help? Give his brain a chance to shut down, and maybe he’ll sleep when he wakes up, then.”
Goddess help them all, but they considered it, quietly shifting from instinctive apallment to actual deliberation, because they were indeed edging up on that level of desperation by now.
“We try not to purposely injure our own, but-” Warriors eyes darted to Legend, awake only in the vaguest definition of the word. “I think it may be worth a shot if he can’t sleep tonight. He looks like he’s ready to pass out- if there was any chance of him managing it organically, I can’t imagine he’d last till tomorrow, not like this.” He reached out and moved a pink lock of hair from where it fell in front of glazed purple eyes, tucking it behind Legend’s ear.
The pupils flickered side to side a bit, but Legend remained silent, distant.
Right in front of them, and yet near unreachable.
Tomorrow , they agreed, giving it one last chance
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Tomorrow came about, and did indeed end with Legend getting clocked over the head.
Just… not how they wished, or planned, and most terribly not with the result they’d so desperately hoped for. Seeing the unsteady Veteran stand in place as the moblin advanced, blankly staring up at it as it reeled its arm back and struck him across the temple without any attempt at defending himself-
Hyrule knows he wasn’t the only one to scream. He and a wild-eyed Four had been the first ones at Legend’s side where he was sprawled on the ground, limbs akimbo- the Smithy had been on watch, but hadn’t seen the creeping ambush in time for the Chain to properly prepare past grabbing weapons. Wars had been practically knocked out as well while trying to defend the unresponsive Veteran, who had only stared uncomprehendingly at the sword as it was pushed into his hands, barely keeping his feet when dragged to stand.
Hyrule’s eyes glanced down to where Legend had cut his hand while listlessly holding the blade across his palm where it had been placed, heart seizing in his chest at the thought of their experienced Vet so far gone he’d not even handled his sword competently. There was blood pouring from where the imbedded bone fragments in the club had torn at his skin, and his eyes were-
Open. His eyes were open, and still staring blankly skyward, and for a single terrifying eon of a moment Hyrule thought he was dead. Then Legend blinked asynchronously, pupils so dilated there was naught but a thin ring of purple visible, and Hyrule sobbed in relief and fear, because oh gods, if that hadn’t knocked him out-
What was happening, then? This wasn’t natural, but if a blow strong enough to knock him from his feet and concuss him this badly couldn’t steal him from consciousness, what could?
“Hyrule?” Four called, and immediately the Traveler snapped back to himself, already lifting a potion to Legend’s lips. The Veteran was unresponsive for all that he was awake, eyes rolling and fluttering as he moaned incoherently, only conscious by power of whatever curse had been laid on him but very much still in the pained grasp of severe brain trauma. In the Smithy’s clasped hands Legend’s fingers twitched as Hyrule coaxed mouthful after agonizingly slow mouthful down the other’s throat, another sob escaping only when those hazy purple eyes finally focused on him at last, just barely lucid despite having been healed.
“Roolie?” He whispered, eyes pinched in pain, lips curled in suffering that was still so much better than the loose, shapeless nothingness of the last few days. It was the first time he’d seemed to see them in two days now, and Hyrule’s heart jumped into his throat at the sudden fear that it could be the last, too.
“It’s okay, Ledge, we’ve got you. You’re gonna be okay,” He promised, throat tight, tears streaming down his face.
“Something’s wrong, ‘Rule,” Four whispered, and Hyrule could only meet his eyes in fear as Legend slipped away from them once more, lost once more in the haze of his sleep-deprived mind.
Something was wrong, indeed.
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Legend could be roused slightly, they found, with red potions. He’d become ever so faintly more aware while it was in effect, able to carry on simple, halting conversations, though questions were often beyond him, simply leaving him closing his eyes in exhaustion and turning away at the effort of trying to understand, think through, and construct an answer. It wasn’t much -wasn’t enough, was nowhere near a solution- but it was all they had, and a stop-gap was better than nothing.
Even this pale facsimile of their Veteran was better than the silent ghost of the past week. It had been ten days, now, and Legend’s condition was stable but quickly growing tenuous, with everyone painfully aware of how quickly he could deteriorate at any point, now.
They were headed towards Four’s Castletown and the extensive library within in hopes of finding an answer, a cause, a solution- and then they got Switched, dumped on the beach of a moderately sized island.
There was no way off. There was nothing upon it but the ruins of a small village, and decrepit dungeons higher up, near the hollowed, jagged-edged mossy dish that topped the mountain. There was nothing here, and no answers that could save their Veteran from whatever curse was slowly killing him.
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Legend got worse.
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Link? Is that you?
He turned his head, feeling it wobble, heavy and aching, blinking heavily as he tried to follow the voice, the first one he’d heard clearly in…
It’s been so long! A flash of red and hibiscus pink, large, curious eyes and lips made to smile. Marin grinned at him, hazy at the edges, but so was the rest of the world, the familiar living room of her house - their house- surrounding him in a vaguely recognizable blur.
He smiled at her, or tried to- his lips felt strangely numb and unresponsive, and as he tried to talk, to tell her how he missed her he found he couldn’t do that, either, nothing more than a weak hum of a slur escaping as he tried to wrangle his tongue and mouth into obedience. He didn’t have to though, apparently.
You missed me? , she said softly, leaning in and hugging him, only to phase through his body and disappear.
Her voice rang all around him then, sing-song and hard in a way Marin’s never had been. ‘ You haven’t the right, Link, not after what you did.’
Not after he all but killed them waking up, but- she was a dream , that’s right. She’d been a dream, and he’d killed her so she is a dream now, this isn’t-
This wasn’t real, he realized dimly, staring into her furious, crying face as tears gathered in his own eyes, unable as ever to bear the sight of her tears without feeling the wild urge to do anything to stop them.
But- he’d done this. Already done it, and she was dead and gone for all his troubles, and this? This wasn’t-
Link lifted a hand to stroke her freckled cheek, and blinked, touching skin, Hyrule’s frightened gaze meeting his.
Oh, he ? It’d been ‘Roolie? What…
Legend let the confusion drift around him senselessly, too worn to follow it, even the bewilderance fading away as the nonsensical reality around him became too tiresome to ponder.
Something was set to his lips, tasting of over-saturated cherries as he drank it down without sparing a thought to wonder- they were too expensive to waste on this, not when he could barely bear to force them into place within his uncooperative mind, when…
When …?
He drifted on a dizzying haze before the potion turned wrong inside him, and he twisted to vomit to the side, spitting weakly as someone began to laugh beside him, a quiet chuckle shifting gradually to something cruel and sharp. Panting, he lifted his eyes, finding Wild rocking back and forth with crossed legs, cheerily tipping a partial red potion in one hand, turning the other to reveal a much smaller vial of something dark and shimmering, bearing his teeth in a malicious grin as he added a few drops to it and swirled till they were gone, sending Legend a cruel wink.
Marin took it from Wild and turned to him with a smile, Legend reeling back in surprise as the bottle - real, very real - was once more offered against his mouth, his attempt to pull back weak at best as she hesitated, cruel smile suddenly flickering to mournful dismay, hugging herself as the edges of her wavered.
‘You don’t want to join me, Link? We can be together at last, in spite of everything ’, she said hopefully, leaning forward and clasping his hands. He blinked down at them, at the warm weight of them atop his, breath picking up.
It wasn’t real, it couldn’t be, he couldn't leave the others, the Chain, not when they were real and needed his help.
“Of course they’re real”, Marin said, puzzled as she offered the potion again. He was too exhausted to fight, eyes falling out of focus as the world pressed in tightly around him for a moment, flickering back to awareness with the taste of more potion on his tongue. “We’re all real, Link.”
She cocked her head and sent Wild -hovering with worried eyes and wringing hands- a darting look of concern.
No, but- she was gone, he knew that, and the Chain wasn’t.
Was she real? Was the Chain also a dream? A quest through time and space with the other heroes of legend, could that be real?
No, of course not, that would be insanity.
He was sane. He was awake, and nobody was real, nothing was real, and he- he-
Legend lost himself, then, to the sound of increasing desperation and the sight of Marin’s disintegrating form.
When the real world- was it though, was it really? - finally came back into focus through his swirling, nauseating thoughts they were all there. Marin, the Chain, all his dreams and nightmares there before him, similarly hazy and warping in and out of sight and sound. It all hitched around him, before he blinked.
Link saw her, he saw her and he heard the song and, and- gone. Not real. A dream, he reminded himself, but then Wind turned to look at where she’d been, confused as he searched around for her.
The Chain was there, then gone again at the next struggling blink of the world- not real. They, they weren’t real, he told himself. Another dream, another creature to wake up or kill so he could escape-
He landed against the ground, alone, and then wasn’t in the next moment as arms came up around him, and that felt real but that was a lie -
They were there, someone right before his face and speaking without words, and Marin shoved them out of the way to catch him in her arms and hold him close, a soft song filtering into place.
He was leaning against a wall, gasping for air in a body that wanted nothing more than to rest in whatever manner it could, gone past its limits in every way possible and failing because of it.
His friends were there- screaming, crying, laughing, clutching Marin to their side like a sister as the world faded like a dream around them, with them, taking them away from him once more-
Not real.
Had it ever been?
Link closed his eyes, crying helplessly as the world whirled around him senselessly, as an ocarina quietly began to play, pure and wavering, Marin singing along.
All a dream.
He could only hope he’d wake up again, someday.
Notes:
Have a cliffhanger! Partially inspired by -what was that movie called? Sleep? Yeah, that one. And by that I mean I needed a reason for Legend to be hallucinating and thought sleep deprivation would be… peak irony. What happened? Hmm, probably a curse laid over a room or artifact in someone’s dungeon or another. What’s the cure? The song of awakening, or so you’d better hope, otherwise Legend is not going to be okay this time round, not unless the Chain manages to bring him back after his body fails and he’s somehow ~fixed~ since the curse considers that to fulfill the ‘no sleep until death’ requirement.
I guess we’ll just have to see if there’s ever a follow-up chapter one way or the other, huh?
Chapter 2: There's Nothing to Be Done
Summary:
It's the end, finally. A mercy, and the single worst moment in the world.
Notes:
*Beebops in with even more angst* You thought chapter 1 was bad? Blame ooopo123’s comment daring me to do it again; not that I wouldn’t have anyways, but we’re in this together now, oooopo dear
Fair warning, there is not a whole lot of dialogue in this chapter but- I think it's okay without it
Chapter Warnings: hallucinations/altered state of consciousness, mental torture, mental illness (it’s not, not really, but reads very similar to such), panic attacks, non-consensual restraint
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Legend was dying, and they were out of ways to save him.
The abandoned island the portal had dropped them at was odd, with only a single homestead halfway to falling apart, though that at least meant they weren’t completely out of the scope of humanity. It left just enough room for hope that they’d be found, that some miracle would appear in the darkest hour, that they’d be rescued by someone who could save Legend’s life.
The hope was nothing but pure desperation but it was all they had, and they clung to it as everything fell apart and Legend grew weaker still. It was agony, torture in its own right, watching one of their own suffer such a slow death right before them, with no recourse or solution or way to ease his pain or confusion.
There was nothing to do but watch helpless witnesses to whatever cruel curse afflicted their brother and dragged him inexorably away from them, body, mind, and soul.
Legend had always been clever, and intelligent, and observant, and it had been deeply disturbing to watch the Vet they knew quickly deteriorate into a distant eyed ghost of his prickly, quick-witted self, stumbling over nothing and losing his train of thought. As the days passed he withdrew even farther from them, slurring nonsense and jerking to stare at nothing, only aware of their coaxing and increasingly desperate attempts at comforting him half the time, for a mere handful of seconds before he was gone again.
They were all looking haggard and exhausted by now, but none came close to the wraith Legend had become. A week and a half in and he could no longer stand or walk on his own, had no inclination nor capability to bear his own weight. Getting him to eat was impossible; food couldn't capture his attention long enough for him to consume it, and it was all they could manage to pour a broth into his mouth for him to reflexively swallow. He’d dropped weight, and the bruising under his eyes was violently vibrant, his sclera stained red where the sustained racing of his heart had burst the delicate vessels there. His pulse was fast, and uneven, something in his body failing without sleep to sustain it.
Another night inched past, and Legend fell that much farther.
There were moments where he’d speak coherently, or focus on one of them with something so close to clarity that Hyrule wept, because by now Legend was seeing nothing but hallucinations, hearing naught but what tricks his slowly dying mind was playing on him. He called for Marin, for Hyrule -right here Legend, I’m right here, Hylia please - and always, always, asked if this was real, murmuring that it wasn’t, how could it be, please, let this be fake let it be true let her be here let them have existed -
Legend was slowly going insane right in front of them, his mind unraveling without the ties of sleep to bind it to sanity. His grip on reality was non-existent, and was given no reprieve from what tortures he was left to endure, not in sleep, not in unconsciousness, not in peaceful, foggy, unthinking haze. He was tangled in a nightmare, perpetually, of his own making.
The fears and horrors held within his own mind, and Legend was trapped in them.
At one point he shoved himself off of the ramshackle bed they’d placed him on, curling up beside the wall and finally breaking before their eyes, blind and deaf to Hyrule and Time as they tried to comfort him, reassure him, promise anything just to give him something to hold onto. But he only shuddered and screamed and fell apart, sobbing inconsolably and clawing at himself until they had to restrain him for fear of him scratching his eyes out.
The scene would haunt what little, guilty snatches of sleep the Chain could manage for a long, long time.
It fractured something deep inside to break Legend’s trust in them like this, even if it was necessary. Hyrule was shaking violently as he pinned Legend’s torso, nearly face to face with the bloody lines marring his face and throat, ears pressed back against his skull as if he could somehow stop hearing the ragged, desperate shrieks from his friend. Sky was silently crying with wide, shell-shocked eyes as he held Legend’s weakly flailing legs down, Time’s face made of stone as he secured makeshift ties around the Vet’s wrists and ankles, padded with soft cloth. He reached for Legend’s hand instinctively to try to comfort the shuddering, screaming hero and froze, single eye pinned on the blood under Legend’s nails. Time clamped his teeth, helplessness drowning his expression before he took a slow, shaking breath and cleaned the gore off with the cloth and water beside the cot.
Hyrule healed the scratches along his eyelids, Legend twisting away and keening breathlessly the whole time in fear, his face carefully remaining placid and empty eyed until he had finished, ducking outside to quietly have a panic attack. He shook silently, stifling his sobs behind trembling hands, trying and failing to move past the horror of Legend trying to rip out his own eyes, the blank, wild panic as he stared up at those he’d called brothers. Time was suddenly at this side, easing himself down slowly and placing an anchoring hand on Hyrule’s back as he tried to talk the healer through his seizing lungs and spiralling mind, avoiding empty placations of ‘you’re alright’ and ‘everything’s fine’.
They weren’t, and he wasn’t and Hylia help them, but neither hero could see how to change it.
Things continued to progress in the horribly predictable downward spiral, and Hyrule felt his heart breaking.
Legend would writhe weakly in bed, bound but seemingly unaware of the fact as he intermittently tried to hit his head against something, anything, screaming in incoherent anger and desperation and fear. He was somewhere they couldn’t reach him now, dead white and wild eyed, trembling heavily as he looked at the world like it was full of monsters. His voice was rasping and splintered, throat ruined by the desperate volume of his cries and dehydration, their attempts to get him to drink warded off now with fearful screams and indistinct claims of poison, or saltwater, or acid.
It was that which had Warriors breaking down as well, the sight of Legend fearfully pulling back in his restraints, looking at his beloved friend like an enemy out for his life finally marking the limit of their normally stalwart Captain’s resilience to the ongoing trauma. He reeled away from Legend’s slurred pleas for mercy, hand over his mouth, until his back hit the wall and he slid down it, curling into his knees and screaming .
It was too much, each of them slowly fracturing under the terrible weight of the tragedy unfolding before them. They all knew what was happening, how this was going to end if they didn’t do anything, if they couldn’t-
( Save him help him stop this -)
They couldn’t, though.
Another day inched past, and Legend’s screams quieted to groans and whimpers as he grew too weak to voice the torment he was enduring. The relief from his agonized, continual cries was a relief utterly and totally quenched by the harsh reality that it was only because he’d not the energy for it, eyes still darting wildly under half-closed lids as he trembled and feebly jerked. They untied his hands and feet, any attempts at mindless self harm easily thwarted with his wasted form and exhausted fragility, Twilight shaking as Legend strained weakly against his gentle grip around his wrists, hugging him back to chest as the smaller hero panted and gasped and whimpered.
Twilight didn’t know what Legend was seeing. It was better that way, never to learn how his snarky brother was experiencing his futile attempt at comfort, what he was perceiving in place of the beloved companion he’d exchange sneaking animal snipes with.
For all that only one was cursed, every one of the heroes suffered from it, each of them shattering in horrible, new ways as Legend died in agonizing stages. Wind had bloodied his hands picking ceaselessly at them in anxiety, perpetually pressing close to any other hero, quiet and pale. Wild still cooked, but they were simple meals, serviceable and nothing more, completely non-verbal and utterly avoidant of anyone but Twilight, perching nearby outside for hours. They all stayed close, nearly unable to bear watching and listening but utterly incapable of abandoning Legend to endure this alone.
He may not know they were there, but it was tragically, desperately important that they were.
Another night scraped by in seconds that felt like razors over their senses, Sky and Four both passing out as their 3 day streak of sleeplessness shut their bodies down. At least Sky admitted a tearful defeat and bedded down first- the Smithy quietly slumped to the ground from the ramshackle research station he’d set up with what few magic books they had, drawing a frightful cry from Warriors and a general panic before they realized he was simply exhausted and no longer able to bear through it.
On the cot, a shredded groan only accentuated the horror they all felt.
None of them were sleeping well, every moment of unconsciousness feeling like a taunt, a betrayal, something stolen from Legend even though they all knew that wasn’t true.
When next they tried to coax Legend into drinking, the moaning hero barely managed to swallow any, far too much water making its way into his lungs than any of them liked. The listless Vet was almost too weak for the wracking coughs that followed, lying limp and wetly gasping in the aftermath.
The time after that, he couldn’t keep any water down at all, what little of it he didn’t inhale instead. It was the start of the end, Hyrule knew, and by now he didn’t know if it was worth trying to stop or worse, hurry.
(They spoke of mercy, of course- Twilight was the one brave enough to say it, the soft words hammering through the group like a shockwave.
“Maybe it would be best,” he said quietly, clearly.
“Maybe we’ll find a solution,” Four begged, already distraught from the repeated failures to hunt down an answer in what few resources they had on hand, stressed and desperate as he took on an impossible task and tore himself up for failing to find a miracle. Hyrule was afraid for him, afraid of what would happen now that Four had mentally designated the responsibility for saving Legend as his, if Legend….
When.
“It would be kinder, but- we can’t. I can’t, not even for him,” Warriors said brokenly, hand resting on Legend’s lank hair, the Vet shifting feverishly and letting out a pained breath of a moan, bloodied violet eyes rolling blindly. “I don’t know which of you could, but… I-” The normally verbose hylian stuttered, words dying in his throat as he stared emptily at their suffering friend.
Hyrule closed his burning eyes. “I couldn’t look at them the same, not even if it was for the better,” he admitted.
He warned .
“None of us could,” Time said quietly, stepping over to wrap an arm around Twilight’s shoulders.
Their shifter looked at him, lips trembling, before his face crumpled. “I- I couldn’t, but this- this isn’t better ,” he gasped between hitching breaths, looking seconds from hyperventilating as his gaze flipped back over to Legend. “I don’t- what’s right, here?” He asked, finally turning into Time’s embrace as he silently gave in and crumbled.
There wasn’t anything that was better, or right, though, no answer to be found or given as a mercy from this desperate, fruitless search for anything, anything that would make it less -
Painful, horrifying, tragic, torturous, for them or for Legend, but-
There was nothing they could do.)
Legend was awake, and had been so for two weeks. He was still, now, save for spasmodic twitching along his skin, whittled down to gaunt, boney limbs littered with bruises that wouldn’t heal anymore. There was nothing they could do to draw any reaction from him now, no way to keep him alive any longer when he could accept nor tolerate any sustenance. His body was shutting down at last, his pulse racing along unsteadily like a horse running itself into the ground, every breath a staggering, halting jolt of air.
His nose had begun to bleed out of nowhere; one instant he was unmoving save for the muscle tremors, and the next he was choking, blood dripping from his nose and down his throat before Warriors managed to catch him up and tip his face safely forward. It had taken an hour for the terrifyingly thick gushing to stop, leaving him pale as a ghost under the stark crimson smudges over his skin and on the very edge of death, eyes half lidded and no longer even flickering about, fixed blindly into empty space as a tendon at his temple spasmodically twitched.
The Captain had him on his lap, now, and Hyrule was beside him, tear-streaked and dead-white, barely conscious himself after having bought this much time for his predecessor with every ounce of magic he could spare, and then some.
It had stopped working, eventually, though. Even after he’d desperately downed a green potion and plunged back to continue trying to give them just a little longer to figure it out, for something to change, Legend’s body stopped accepting the healing. His efforts sliding off of his predecessor like rain from a duck’s back, refusing to sink in and save him .
Warriors knew what it meant, even if Hyrule didn’t, the pink glowing healer shouting in panic and desperation as the Captain’s head bowed in silent, shivering defeat. Had seen it in healing tents for the more privileged of the wounded many, those with high enough status or well-favored enough to warrant care above and beyond the average soldier. Heavy, prolonged doses of healing magic the only thing keeping them alive, the flood of power still not enough to solve all the issues of a failing body.
Like water poured continually into a cracked bowl, it was only ever a losing game.
Eventually, the patient’s body would not accept any further healing, some indefinable resource wiped wholly clean, nothing left for the magic to build upon or draw from.
Hyrule had been at Legend’s bedside for two days, now, was the most powerful healer Warriors had seen, focused solely on their friend.
It hadn’t been enough, and now they were out of stolen time at last.
Even now he tried to force the pale flicker of magic forth, tried to mend failing organs even while the source of the problem lingered, unfixable, a curse they couldn't find or understand or fucking break, gods damn it keeping a powerful hold all the way to the terrible end. Hyrule swayed, near fainting as his magic slipped uselessly across the pale, still body, and Legend remained as he was.
Dying by inches.
But that would soon change without Hyrule’s intervention, and they’d long passed beyond anything but broken acceptance by now. The Chain was all there, silent and shaking and shattered, none of them wanting to see the struggle or hear the Traveler’s broken cries, but feeling they owed the end a witness, nonetheless.
Legend’s head lolled listlessly to the side, a fine tremble running through his body. His eyelashes fluttered, gaze empty of the hero Hyrule had loved as a brother. Legend gasped out a shaky breath, a whimper so soft it could have been the imagination,
Hyrule waited
And it was only when the first scream broke the air that he realized:
that was it.
Notes:
Strength also drawn from satvrnine's blessing, thank you so much, you also share blame in bringing this into the world
There will be a chapter 3 out in the next few days if all goes according to plan, but… I could not resist leaving it here, it was too good. I even waited until chapter 3 was written (if not cleaned up from its somewhat chaotic state quite yet) to post this so you wouldn’t have to suffer overlong- a small smudge of kindness in all the pain I’ve just thrown your way.
A hint: It's gonna focus on someone else entirely (WE'LL GET BACK TO LEGEND CHAP 4 I PROMISE) and give you some resolution as to what on earth happened
At least a fourth chapter will also be needed to close up the comfort half of the hurt/comfort for Legend, settling this guy at 4-5 chapters probably, plus whatever little scraps of fun I add/you guys ask for. Until Don't Go Into the Lights is finished this is just ekeing in during my free time, so it may take a hot minute, but it'll happen~
Chapter 3: A Realization and Guilt Enough to Kill
Summary:
An answer is found out the hard way, and a solution found that not many are happy with.
Chapter Text
For a moment, there was nothing, no relief, no pain, no grief, only numb shock.
The weak, tremulous glow of Legend’s familiar presence in his senses guttered and dimmed, beginning the last fade into the dark of true, final death.
Unnoticed, Time’s lowered head suddenly lifted from where he’d stood still and steady as an oak, ears pricking as he opened his eye and snapped towards Legend’s body, pupil shrinking.
A line of magic, so fine it was only visible now that there was nothing of Legend’s fire-glow brilliance to hide it, tracing from their dead friend to-
Time shrieked .
The sound itself melded with the others’ grief, the room far from silent as they each cried out their loss, but that it came from Time , their eldest, the leader who locked his pain away where none of them were allowed to see-
They knew he wasn’t invulnerable, of course, but there was an undeniable comfort in believing him to be utterly steadfast, untouched by the same doubts and fears and always, always there to lead them or comfort them or be their strength. Time had made himself their foundation whether he meant to or not, and now he was crumbling, ensconced in grief thick enough to be nigh tangible, and suddenly the one person all the heroes could always turn to was just as lost and devastated as they were.
And yet.
Even now, Time rose above, pushing past the earth shattering loss that had paralyzed the others, catching them between grief and relief after endless days of suffering without cause or respite. The eldest hero was heedless of all the others’ cries and questions as he flung himself to his bag and frantically dug through it. Wind’s desperately hopeful, “What is it? Can you save him!?” was quickly hushed by a sharp-eyed Warriors, whose gaze was pinned on the tense line of Time’s shoulders.
Because that was not hope they were witnessing, but helpless rage and grief. Time emptied his bag ruthlessly, scattering masks they’d never been shown before carelessly to the ground, secrets the Old Man had taken such care to keep from them haphazardly tossed into the open as he searched for-
A mask.
It was as eerie as the others in his keep, the world tucking in densely around the artifact the way it did for all Time’s masks, the subtle manner in which it seemed to draw the eyes to it and lure hands inwards betraying the seemingly inherent harmlessness of the object.
For all that the Chain possessed many weapons among them, none ever felt quite so dangerous as those masks. These were no blank weapons but sentient and powerful, Pandora’s boxes with voice to lure, to seduce, to demand and plead for freedom. They begged to be used, silent and pressing, a few of them threatening , all for the opportunity to press their properties onto the world. Some seemed harmless enough, only wanting the interaction after so long alone. Others searched only for a victim, for one weak-willed or proud enough to dare to don them.
The one held in Time’s hand was distinctly the latter.
It hummed with malicious intent, hissing like a burning fuse, the magic locked in the confines of the simple wooden mask coiling like a snake around a victim, less distanced than usual, less muted. It felt cool, and quiet, a black-water cave lake whose bounds were unfathomable, an incomprehensible expanse in the blank abyss of utter darkness, something that waited like a trap for one to fall into and swim through blindly, desperately hoping for something, anything, to slope underfoot or catch beneath grasping hand.
It promised no such salvation to be found- an endless struggle, ending only one way.
Now that it was clenched in Time’s hand though - now that Legend’s magic was dying away and drawing back like dandelion fluff in a flame - he could trace the coiling curve that bound it to his dying predecessor, warping strangely in and out around Legend’s magic, a curling serpent’s hold keeping their brother trapped within that dark lake, drowning at last after days of suffering.
Hyrule was already moving -to do what, he didn’t know- but Time was faster still.
He put the mask on.
Hyrule was the only one who screamed amongst the confused cries and demands for explanations, the only one who could have known that this is what was killing Legend and felt the full, unfettered fear of Time donning it himself. The only one who knew anything of the source of this curse, and he was currently subjecting himself to-
Nothing.
Nothing happened, or so it must have seemed to the others. Hyrule could feel the neat severance of the mask’s connection with Legend, how the matte-shadow coils looped serenely around Time instead, drawing him into that same depthless lake to wait patiently for his endurance to break.
A slow death, he knew just as well as Time did. It was a sacrificial move, but one that shifted precious time from Legend to their eldest.
Time was running on just as little sleep as the rest of them, but he was in no great danger yet. Hyrule knew it, could feel it, but as the older hero curled over with a heart-wrenching keen he couldn’t help but freeze, caught between Legend’s stopped heart and fear that Time was following after.
Except then a hand flailed out to him, signing go go go in the scant seconds before Warriors and Twilight were upon the Old Man, clutching desperately at him as they shouted, fear and grief sharp in the air. The room was even louder than before, the remaining heroes flooded with absolute wild panic as a second of their number fell.
Hyrule heard none of it, everything fading out as he whirled on Legend’s body, wide eyes fixing frantically on that familiar face, beloved and dear and far, far too still. He’d been released, finally, at the very end, and if anything could matter it would be this-
Legend didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. Heart didn’t beat.
Yet.
A spark against his fingertips, the body beneath his clenched, bloodless hand suddenly there again as a well for his magic, where before it had been impervious to any attempt to heal or help. What magic had been locked in the mask’s grasp released once more to Legend upon the breaking of its connection.
A miracle, or perhaps just the solution they’d been looking for all along.
Hyrule gasped a shaking, desperate breath, and let himself glow .
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Time’s POV
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It was impossible to say if it had worked.
Hyrule had saved Legend- the Veteran was alive , his body no longer failing, his breathing stabilized, and the bruises were finally healing under the Traveler’s diligent care.
And yet-
That had been three days ago, now. Three days since Legend had died, since he’d finally given in to the torturous curse upon him, since they’d only barely managed to save him. Three days since he’d last been awake, and three days now that he’d been deeply unconscious and unresponsive.
Three days since Time had first curled upon the ground, feeling the gnawing restlessness of the All-Night Mask as its teeth sank into the skin along his jaws and temples, burning across his eyes, no matter whether he kept them closed or not. The intricate webbing had laid against his face, its eyes settling over his, stabbing pain into them every time he blinked. A tension had already pressed hot and throbbing within his skull, a weary heaviness to his limbs that, paired with the utter horror of what he’d almost been complicit to, curled his spine and left him helplessly staring up with the masks’ crimson leer as Hyrule shone beside Legend, trying to draw him back from the brink Time’s mask had pushed him to.
The Veteran was freed from its grasp- of that he was sure, gathering every strand of its hair thin tendrils and sinking them into his own magic to the mask’s gluttonous glee, offering himself as its victim that it would abandon the hero it had already bled nearly dry. The All Night Mask latched on with dizzying tenacity, an engorged tick plump with Legend’s vitality and still hungry, still drawing from Time in a slow, steady bleed.
That didn’t matter, though. He had strength enough to bear it, would wear this mask as long as it took to ensure Legend wouldn’t fall victim to it again, couldn’t draw his eyes from the pink-lit pair even as Twilight drew into his line of sight, eyes bright with fear and tears.
“Time please , are you alright? What’s wrong, what’s happening?!” He begged, shaking the elder by his biceps as Time continued to stare through him, familiar features obscured beneath the jeering mask he wore. Twilight’s voice broke, choked with tears. “Please, please , can you hear me?”
Time tried to speak, to assure the others, sounding so young in their fear, lost without answers or any guiding light. But even responsibility and worry for them as they pleaded with him couldn’t loosen his locked throat, the stone sitting heavy in his lungs, the shuddering paralysis of his fingers and hands.
Then Warriors was there, easing Twilight away towards Sky, pulling the Ordonian’s desperate hold from Time’s arms when Twilight fought him, crying now. The Captain’s voice so very, very close to steady that it hurt how it fell short, hearing the faint tremble under those smooth tones that even all his training and experience couldn’t stifle.
“Time, I need to know if you’re hurt,” he said firmly, eyes blazing bright as he brought his face close to Time’s, gaze flickering over the harsh edges of the mask where it dug into the elder’s skin before trying to get that blank, alien stare to meet his. “ Link . What’s happening, what can we do?”
But Time had no words, no voice, no means to communicate that nothing was wrong with him , not so long as Legend still lived and Hyrule still fought to keep him so. Donning the mask had taken the last dregs of will he had, leaving him paralyzed in horror, muscles locked as he froze under the relentless roar of fear-guilt-dismay-dread . His jaw was clenched so tightly it hurt, fingers flexing anxiously before Warriors gathered his hands in a firm, loose hold, clasping them to his chest.
Words couldn’t escape the vice grip locked around his chest, but there was nothing to say, even if he could- Time was lost in his own mind, now, drowning in the dark what-ifs as he mentally retreated from the room and his perceived failure, reeling away from the looming shatterpoint of Legend’s death.
The silence between the two heroes lingered, stifled and stomped beneath the heels of the chaos around them, of Wind demanding answers and Four hushing him, Sky holding Twilight as he fell apart, gaze darting between Time and their downfall duo, Wild hovering at Hyrule’s shoulder to provide support, shoulders stiff as he fought to focus on the most desperate of the group. Warriors shifted, sharp gaze tracing Time’s blind stare to the cot. The Captain moved out of the way so he could watch, curled over with one arm pressed viciously around his middle, the other restlessly twitching and flexing before Warriors gathered it in a firm, loose clasp.
Time’s eyes twitched under the mask, but he didn’t look away from the furious well of magic around their Traveler, from the power sinking into Legend’s form, from the dying flicker that was slowly blooming back once more.
The Chain fell quiet around them, worry still sharp but hope there too now, fragile but growing with every minute Hyrule glowed steadily, peacefully, at Legend’s side. Time was silent and unmoving, his continued use of the mask a mystery that gnawed on the other heroes as they waited. Four finally drew in close, trying to prompt a response with an uncertain “Time? Old Man?” and when that failed, reaching a hand to touch the All-Night Mask.
Time’s hand flickered up, fingers wrapped around Four’s slender wrist before he registered the utter fear that flooded him, the irrational conviction that the mask would latch onto Four next, would do the same to their little smithy, turn that sharp mind dull and tortured-
He didn’t realize the keening noise was coming from his own throat until he registered Four’s arms wrapped around him, the smaller hero trembling as he hugged Time and apologized, carefully nowhere near the mask upon the older hylian’s face. Time’s hand - once more in Warriors grasp, and had they pried it from Four’s wrist, or had he let go? - twitched once before rustily moving to cup the back of Four’s head, the little one shifting minutely to curl towards the desperate embrace in spite of everything.
Boundlessly empathetic even now , Time thought with distant fondness, and the warmth of the realization was swallowed silently by the dark waters of the mask’s magic, gone as fast as it had been sparked.
At the small movement, Warriors arms came around them both too, the Captain’s slender form settling across his back as he too hugged Time, offering what little comfort their eldest seemed able to allow himself. The others drew in closer, seeming to want to huddle near as well but quickly warded off by the choked, fearful sound Time couldn’t stifle as Wind’s shoulder came too close to the mask, flinching violently back, hands jolting to shield his face but pinned by the others’ hugs.
They didn’t let go, didn’t loosen their grasp, but none of the other heroes joined, either, milling like abandoned puppies around the huddled group before settling once more to wait.
Time doesn’t know how long it took. All he remembers is that by the time Hyrule drew away and turned with a smile to the rest of them Wind and Sky had both passed out, Twilight edged as close as he could get to Time without triggering the elder hero. Four was murmuring quiet nonsense where he was curled loose in Time’s arms, a long meandering flow of words meant for nothing but to fill the cavernous gap of agonizing suspense that had opened up in the beaten down shack.
“He’s going to be okay,” Hyrule said in a wobbly voice, hand still firm around Legend’s wrist as he cast a blinding, tearful smile to the transfixed group of heroes. Bottles limned with the barest remnants of green potion littered the area around him, testament to how hard-won this victory had been. “He’s- he’s back, and not dying, and- and-”
His voice fell apart into sobs, Hyrule bowing forward under the weight of his relief, and all at once the Chain moved, swarming the cot in a rush of gladness and hope and joy. They were each careful not to jostle Legend even as hands brushed reverently over his breathing, weak form, as they hugged one another and cried out the stress and horror of the past few hours, days, weeks .
Time alone stayed frozen.
For a long, long time he remained curled on the ground where he’d first fallen, hugging himself tightly as he watched the joy unfold before him, waiting for the horror crushing his ribs to abide, for the frozen air in his lungs to thaw. Exhaustion dragged at his body, drawn from stress and sleeplessness already, and at his mind, worn from the emotional burden of witnessing a hero he treasured as a son dying in increments and the shattering realization that it was all his fault.
He waited for it to feel like it was over, for one of them to turn to him with blame in their eyes and punishment at their hands, waited for Legend to wake up and absolve him or confirm his blame. The others spread about, drew him gently from the ground to settle him in a nest of blankets, spoke soft, comforting assurances to him, Hyrule gently grasping Time’s hands to his chest as he promised, “It’s alright, Time, he’s going to be okay. This isn’t your fault, it’s not , you can take it off now. We’re all safe, we’re all okay, you can take it off, please .”
But the guilt still lay too heavy for him to move past it, the mask’s filigree fine, crushing weight drawing him down, down, down where the other’s relief couldn’t touch him. There was no more danger, now, and only what fear he himself was creating by doing this, by being this way, by burdening them further after they’d already been through so much. Time tried to draw forth the energy to be better, to be strong again for them, fought for the courage to take the mask off, tried to convince himself it was safe now, that nothing would happen and none would fall if he freed it from feeding on him.
But he couldn’t fight that fear, couldn’t stifle the crushing paralysis, couldn’t breach the cold distance gaping between him and the world moving around him, and even after Legend was saved and the crisis passed, Time still found himself waiting, waiting, waiting.
-----------------------------------------------------------
So. Three days since Time realized that it was his own item that had been killing Legend all along, and the realization still towered over him, immovable and looming and paralyzing in its guilt and horror.
He was still wearing the All-Night Mask and aware, in some distant, yet-wise part of his mind, that he could not continue to do so for much longer. Oh, he was nowhere near the end of his strength; exhausted, certainly, far from well-rested even before he’d donned it, and at the ends of his mind’s endurance already. But his body would hold for longer than two nights of wakefulness, and the fear of what could happen if he took it off, if he freed its hunger to latch onto another…
That he couldn’t face, even as the others grew more and more agitated, shifting from coaxing and pleading to demanding and threatening, Twilight already having snapped and tried to wrench it from Time’s face himself. Warriors had half-heartedly tried to haul him away, the Captain’s own face divided between non-violence and wanting to yank it off himself, but it hadn’t taken any more than fingers slipping uselessly over the edges melded seamlessly to Time’s jaw to realize only one person could take it off.
Twilight had let out a wrecked scream, none of them afraid any longer of rousing Legend from his ongoing unconsciousness -hoping for it, almost- and it was then that Time sluggishly realized how he was torturing them even now, walking down the same path Legend had been caught on, the answer for their Veteran no longer even a solution for the exact same problem he was posing now. Vacantly, he cast his gaze -shadowed still behind bloodied red, his features still trapped in the tortured depiction of a face atop his own- over them all, taking in how wrecked they all were, some avoiding him and others helplessly watching, just as they’d all in turn been caught by and utterly unable to face Legend’s own slow death.
He couldn’t… keep doing this. Not to them, if nothing else, and Time knew his own limits well enough to know that somewhere he’d cross a line past which he would no longer be able to remove the mask himself, caught in delirium and waking dreams himself. Hyrule had already told them what he’d been able to sense, Warriors filling in what he knew of Time’s masks and Four piecing together the rest, and none of them had blamed him. In fact, they’d all gone to great lengths to assure him it was alright, that it was safe now, that it wasn’t his fault-
They were wrong.
Time could feel it in his bones, in the ice trying its best to fill the gaping hole in his chest, helpless now except to hold the threat to his own chest.
So long as he wore it, the mask couldn't take another.
So long as he wore it, he was tormenting his family.
“It’s safe, Time. Trust us, we won’t let anything happen again. We know, now. It’ll be alright. We’ll be alright.”
Time shifted joints that felt rusted in place, sluggishly bringing a stiff, aching hand to his face. A flex of his weary magic, like a bug shrugging off its molt, and the mask came away in his hand, falling from boneless fingers as the world shut off, everything catching up all at once to the sudden cacophony of shrieks and cries and yells before his mind went blissfully silent at last.
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Warriors would be furious if he weren’t so fucking relieved , watching Twilight catch Time as he slumped into the Rancher’s hovering arms, features going slack a second after they’d been revealed, wholly unharmed despite how the mask had dug tighter and tighter into his skin as they’d all watched, cruel edges pressing with bruising force as empty crimson mocked them all. Said mask had clattered to the floor as Time’s hand went lax, face up and already tempting them, something about it crooning to be held, to be worn-
Hyrule grabbed it and promptly scampered outside with it held at arm’s length, Wild right on his tail. Warriors didn’t know where they were planning on putting it, so long as it was far, far away from him and his brothers. Instead, he turned to Twilight, curled around and rocking Time, features more relieved and calm than they had been in weeks, shaken and fragile as he held his mentor, his father in all but blood, and cried silent tears.
Time had held out far, far too long before he’d finally taken off that fucking mask. Even knowing why, Warriors couldn't help the way his fists clenched in helpless frustration, the urge to scream and demand of Time why he couldn't trust them only firmly dampened by the elder hero’s unconscious state.
Maybe Warriors was furious after all.
As he’d been doing -as they all had been doing- the Captain leaned forward and counted Time’s pulse, his breathing, taking in the pallor of his skin and brutal dark smudges under closed eyes echoed by every member of the Chain.
This had been hard on all of them for far too long and far too close to tragedy not to leave fracture lines in every hero here. It didn’t help that their leader was down as well after his self-sacrificing streak, not when they most needed his solid strength, his impenetrable calm.
Ah, shit .
Even as he thought it - what they needed most - Warriors clamped his eyes shut, jaw dipping down in pain.
Fuck. Fuck , how could he have forgotten? He’d been a Captain himself, a leader amongst soldiers, knowing full well what that burden did to a person. How that responsibility for those lives weighed on a mind, even now after so many years distanced. For Time, it was even worse, for they weren’t anonymous lives but precious family members, and he wasn’t just a leader to them, but something of a father.
During Legend’s whole decline, Time had been their rock, the one any of them could turn to for assurances -no matter how empty they had been at the time- or a shoulder to cry on. He wasn’t the only one offering support, not by a long shot as each of the heroes cycled between vulnerability and strength for the others, but the only one who’d never faltered, who’d never given in to the fear they’d all felt, was Time.
Oh, he’d been horrified, and grieved, and fearful, but not once had he let it overwhelm him, not once had he succumbed to it, lanced the abscess of poisonous emotion. It had stayed bottled up, held behind walls that they could all take comfort and reassurance from his steadfast strength, and the worst thing was even though it had led to this it h ad fucking worked . Even when everything was falling apart, seeing Time standing tall through it did nothing but give hope, was at times the only tenuous string holding the group from absolute collapse as Legend seemed all but lost.
Warriors knew what kind of pressure had built up, they all did- losing Legend would have been devastating, and the days dragging up to it nothing but psychological torture for all of them. To take that and realize, on the cusp of absolute and total grief, that it was his fault -his item- that Legend was dying-
Of course Time had broken. And the mask had done nothing to help either, and in the face of that they were so, so fucking lucky they’d been able to draw him far enough out of his dissociation and magically exacerbated depression to remove it.
In the distance an explosion rang out, then another and another. Warriors didn’t move, even as Sky got to his feet and silently went out to ensure it was as they all suspected.
The Captain helped Twilight and Time lay down on one of the makeshift beds on the floor, Wind wasting no time in slipping in to curl at the Old Man’s back, pressing his face between the older hylian’s shoulder blades as Wars rested a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“It’ll be alright,” he promised them both, blue eyes shadowed as he witnessed their worry, sharing it himself as he cast a glance over to Legend, still unconscious, Four only just settling back in his seat at the bedside with eyes pinned desperately on Time. “They’ll be fine, it’s over now” he reminded them, voice calm and confident as he could muster.
“I’ve never seen him like that,” Twilight admitted softly, nose buried in Time’s hair as he clutched the elder hylian close. “He’s never… what if-”
But Warriors shook his head against Twilight’s concern, the fear he couldn’t voice and Warriors was desperately glad he didn’t have to hear aloud. “He’ll be alright, Twi. I’ve seen it before, and he’ll be okay. It’ll take our help and some time, but he can come back from this.” It could be true, he hoped it was true, but though he wasn’t lying that he’d seen Mask react similarly, it had never been a brother’s death whose fault he shouldered, the trauma worsened by one of his cursed masks.
It had never, ever been this bad. So though he was familiar with this trauma response from their leader, it was a cold, shriveled comfort indeed when it was paltry basis for something of this magnitude. Seeing Mask silent and still, unresponsive hours after the battle was over was nothing he’d wanted to witness again, yet here he was again, forced to watch as Time -grown and stable and settled in his own mind - was utterly decimated once more. It was frightening, seeing the fragile, breaking child once more in the steadfast support Time had become in his eyes.
The Old Man had come so far, but those things left scars, no matter how skilled one was at overcoming them and adapting to them. Warriors knew better than any of the others the fracture lines that were hidden in Time’s mind, and even he was aware of scarcely half of it. He didn’t need to know the details to remember the blank emptiness of Mask’s eyes, though, to remember the way the child -despite his unnerving maturity, older in spirit even then- had broken down into tears in his arms too many times, enduring far too much for one so young, traumatized well before being dragged into a war.
Warriors knows Time, knew Mask, and he should have fucking recognized what was happening well before their eldest fractured.
Time had been growing quieter, stiller, less expressive. Never anything but gentle with them, but closing himself off as much as he could while still being the unflappable level of calm they needed from him. He’d always been somber, and the lack of impishness was universal as Legend had worsened, but he’d stopped acting as an enforcer and peacekeeper, leaving Sky and Warriors to settle the anxiety fueled spats. He’d been retreating as much as he could without abandoning them, interacting only when comfort was needed before drawing away again.
The same dark, dangerous isolation Mask had been so fond of, Warriors should have seen it, his own suffering be damned.
(But that was the problem, wasn’t it? It was impossible to be strong for the others when the suffering was breaking each of them all at once and it was all they could do to hold themselves together.)
There was the sound of a lightning strike, an explosive cracking echo that rippled from wherever Hyrule, Wild, and Sky were trying to destroy the mask. Warriors hadn’t the heart to tell them it was useless- if anyone could have done it, Time would have years ago. Knowing it wasn’t an option, Warriors mind already spun through where to hide it, because he already knew full well they could not bring it with.
For Time’s sake, if nothing else. He wasn’t watching the eldest struggle with paranoia or a relic of what had happened. Warriors refused to. Let it rot on this abandoned island instead, and any fool unfortunate enough to find it where they’d hide it take it once more with them to the grave.
Eventually, the trio slunk back into the cabin, faces pinched in quiet fury, frustration in the tense lines of Hyrule’s body as he threw the mask into his bag and kicked it into the farthest corner of the room, grabbing everything else away from it.
“Nothing worked,” Wild said with tightly-controlled rage, eyes bright and snapping. “We couldn’t so much as scratch it.” His gaze flitted to Twilight, and softened somewhat, growing remorseful as he visually checked Time over. His shoulders slumped, and he folded to settle against the wall, tugging Warriors to sit back next to him. “I guess that’s not much of a surprise though, huh?”
Warriors gave a noncommittal shrug, but Four shook his head sharply. “I’m glad you tried. We had to try,” he said fiercely, and the silence that fell thereafter lasted through the night. The group was left waiting once more, as they had been for ages, now, for the final sign that everything would be alright, that it was all truly over and fixed.
Time’s breakdown loomed over them all, though, a snagging reminder that the whole ordeal had left marks upon them that wouldn’t fade with a night’s rest. They were all shaken and jittery, overwrought and emotionally frayed from so long left wondering, fearing. But having Time wake up once more so they could help him, having Legend awake and himself and on the road to recovery-
It would mean everything.
---------------------------------
In the end, Time only beat out Legend by a few hours, waking the next afternoon so slowly that it was worrying even knowing everything that had led up to it. Time had felt this kind of exhaustion before, the strained, hollow feeling of having pushed himself too far all too familiar from days spent saving the kingdom and fighting for his life, the memories all the fresher for all the time the Chain had endured the same. The level of concern he was met with as he tried to recall what had led to him being in a bundle of blankets when everyone else seemed fine was odd and worrisome in its own right, and he tried to detangle himself to sit up and was promptly stopped with a hand to his shoulder.
His head fell back, eye blinking dazedly at the rough-hewn, moldering ceiling as Warriors and Twilight hovered over him, asking him questions that weren’t quite sinking in through the pervading sleep haze yet. His face ached and that too was familiar, signs of a mask being worn too lo-
Oh.
Time froze, his eye sharpening as adrenaline flooded him, burning the clinging exhaustion away, the recollection hitting him all at once, deafening him to the rising agitation in the voices of those still trying to get his attention, to draw him from his own mind.
“Oh no you don’t Old Man, look at me,” Warriors snarled, gripping Time’s jaw and drawing in close until he had no choice but to meet the Captain’s blazing eyes. And this- this was the fury he’d expected, what he’d resigned himself to knowing he deserved it, that the Chain needed someone to blame and rage at for the horrors wrought upon Legend. That person was rightfully him, the lingering traces of the mask’s magic whispered, its dark, insidious taint lingering still in every thought.
The Captain’s voice was low and intent, those cornflower blue eyes burning fervently into his. “You didn’t know , Time. How could you have?”
Silence, words clawing to escape but bottled in by his closed throat. Warriors gave him a little shake, trying to draw a response, anything at all to show their eldest was listening, was hearing that they didn’t blame him, and neither should he . And he did hear the words, spoken and unspoken alike.
They were just wrong.
Because he should have known. He’d recognized the similarities of Legend’s condition to the mask’s function, of course. Had brought the mask out and stared threateningly at it, but felt nothing past its usual vindictive call, and certainly no sign of it having snared Legend in its grasp. Time still doesn’t know how it had managed to latch on to Legend, not when whatever dark force possessed the mask had only ever been released when worn.
None of that mattered, though. It was their only lead, and he’d not seen that it was the answer, right in front of him the whole time. Had discarded it as the cause and in doing so let Legend die slowly, saved only by a miracle on Hyrule’s part and a nearly too late revelation on Time’s.
Too slow. For all it wasn’t willful, none of it would have happened except by his oversight.
The blame was his.
“It’s not your fault!” And that was Twilight, growing visibly more upset as Time only shook his head, silent and dazed, trapped in a spiral of thoughts still. No amount of coaxing drew a defense, an explanation, or a response. He only craned his head desperately to catch sight of Legend, struggling against them until Warriors realized what he was fighting for and immediately apologized, hurrying to reassure him.
“Legend’s fine, Time, he’s sleeping now. Hyrule got him back and he’s just been catching up, same as you.” He waited, eyes flitting anxiously over Time’s face, searching for a reaction, a revelation, recognition. But their eldest was quiet, gaze somewhere far, far away, shifting and agitated but utterly unreceptive.
He tried, Twilight tried, hell, they all tried, but Time could not be moved, and they were left with no relief from the pervading fear. Time was awake, yes, but seemed no better for all that the mask was removed.
At least he had slept, though, and it was that alone that kept the Chain’s worry from boiling over, leaving them jostling to be near to their eldest but leaving him unheckled once more. Time was no fool; distanced though he was, he knew what they hoped for: that Legend would wake up and that would fix it, fix him, fix this whole mess.
He hoped too. But the dark, dragging weight on his thoughts couldn’t help but poison any glimmer of positivity.
It won’t help. Nothing will- this is how it is and how it will be, and there is nowhere but down from here. They’ll tire of you, then grow disdainful, and start to hate you for your mistake, for you inaction, for your uselessness, worthless as you are now.
You’ve broken; they just need time to realize it and throw you aside.
He knows. He knows it all perfectly well, and could not fight off the drowning despair of it.
Self hatred sank its claws into his chest, and Time breathed calmly around it, nothing on his still features betraying the anguish withering in his lungs, ice-frosted eye staring steady and spiritless at Legend as he breathed upon the cot. Wind slept peacefully on curled by Time’s hip, Sky slumped on his shoulder equally undisturbed- both of them warm and exhausted still, the initial relief giving way to several collapses and the growing tension once more as Legend slept on not helping any of them to get rest. Twilight’s head came up and turned to him, eyes glinting in the weak light of the sole candle in the room before grudgingly curling back around Wild and Hyrule, hugging them closer where they were wrapped in his pelt.
Warriors was staring at him, and he was not fooled in the least as by Time’s muted, stone-faced suffering, Four equally sharp-eyed and discerning where he was curled against the Captain’s side, diminutive size accentuated by how thoroughly the scarf swaddled his form. They’d been whispering unsubtly for the last hour, just quietly enough that he couldn’t make out the words, not that he’d bothered to put much energy into trying.
He was drawn from his thrall as Warriors dropped down next to him, Four sidling up on the other side to squeeze between Sky and him and catch Time’s fingers up to thread with his own, smaller hand nestling easily into his palm.
“I should have seen it,” Time said at last, voice ragged enough to blur his words.
Warriors was quick to argue, tone soothing and smooth.“Time, it’s okay, none of us realized either-”
“It’s different ,” Time rasped, voice quietly furious. “I considered it and discarded it, held that mask in my hands, looked and found nothing, even when it was right in front of me. I alone had the knowledge needed to recognize the threat.”
The responsibility was mine, and mine alone.
Warriors could see how the unspoken belief hung heavy over the Old Man, weighing his shoulders down until one of the strongest heroes the Captain knew was near to breaking.
“You didn’t catch it when you looked.” Four said baldly, though his tone was soft and pitying. “But when it mattered, you realized it was the mask before it was too late, even though you’d already ruled it out. You looked, but couldn’t see what it was doing, and that’s by nature of the mask, not any fault of your own. You tried , Time. You can forgive yourself for failing.”
“Legend will be alright,” Warriors promised, because he had to be, for more than just the Veteran’s sake, now. “We know what to watch for, now, you don’t have to worry about it happening again. It’s okay for you not to be okay, sprite. You can take however long you need to, and we’ll be right here.”
Four pressed in for a hug under Time’s ribs. “We’re not leaving you alone with this, Old Man. You’ve always been there for us- let us return the favor,” he said, voice caramel-smooth and soothing, something tragically pleading in the soft tones.
Time didn’t answer, but his eyes burned nonetheless, the tears slipping down his cheeks going uncommented on. Four started telling a light-hearted story from his earlier adventures in a soft, bed-time story voice, and Time’s ears flicked in acknowledgement, listening. Though he still stared at the wall, it wasn’t the terrifyingly distant gaze from before that marked him as lost in his own thoughts, merely a wish to avoid eye contact as he passively absorbed the conversation around him.
It wasn’t perfect; wasn’t everything at once the way it had been before, but it was enough. Warriors shifted, letting his head rest against Time’s shoulder, and after a moment of hesitation Time’s hand came up to cradle his skull.
Wars smiled, a bittersweet twist of the lips that nearly looked to be holding back a sob.
Of course it would work. Ensure Time knew he had support, that they didn’t expect him to be alright. Draw him out from isolation by being visibly upset, by reaching out for comfort, for reassurance, and offer it equally back when Time inevitably moved to abide his soul-deep instinct to console any hurt. The Old Man was always most driven for the good of those he loved; they would show him they needed him, and whilst close would show him the same solace he’d always granted them.
If Warriors needed to request comfort to draw Time out- so be it. If he had to force the older hylian to take care of himself solely to take care of them, he would cease hiding how this was breaking his heart. Warriors would do anything to ensure Time never looked so defeated again; would tear at his own scars, bear his heart, anything.
Time sighed softly, and began humming a lullaby, fingers stroking through Wars’ hair.
The waiting didn’t hurt so much, this time.
Notes:
Me, frowning at this because dammit all it’s still not all closed up. Time got his hurt/comfort in, but Legend… I’m not freakin’ done with you yet, mister. Not until you get cuddled within an inch of your life.
Anyways, I’m aware it’s a bit of a mess so far as POV goes, but ehhh~~ I figured this would do, rather than holding onto it for another two months to fix it
Originally, the cause was just going to be a hand-wavy curse, but much in the sense of Imitation Game’s shenanigans of playing with Time’s OP masks, what started as a little flashback scene to Time having a meltdown over his Stay Awake mask suddenly clicked into a very angsty, delicious solution. Don’t ask me how, just know that Legend and Time were near one another when the Vet triggered a botched spell, which latched onto the mask in Time’s bag and functionally ‘equipped’ it without any of them realizing, something like a real-world glitch because magic is weird and powerful and shit like that can happen if you’re not careful and don’t know how to etch a proper spell circle.
Anyways, the All Night Mask is a particularly insidious and subtle mask. Obviously, it takes time for the effects to really hit, drawing from its wearer strength and magic very, very gradually. A night or two doesn’t do much harm, but the longer its worn and the more tired its wearer is from the start -cough Time cough- the harder it is to take off, until eventually the wearer hits the point where they can’t do it at all, and past that point the end is inevitable. Time wasn’t too close to that point, but also wasn’t much more than a day out, so some could say he was cutting it too close. Its effects present mostly as depression, firstly, then anxiety and paranoia as it gets worse. None of these are helping Time’s already pre-existing guilt over his mask being the culprit of the whole mess.
The next chapter will be Legend once more, but it'll be a bit before it's out. Cheers, everyone!
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