Chapter Text
It was only supposed to be a scouting patrol.
The once vibrant spring morning had been stolen and violently turned into a battlefield. Now Sky leaned against the crumbling stone wall, his heart pounding in his chest. The air was thick, making each inhale feel like fire. He could taste the metallic tang of blood that hung in the air. Yet, he breathed hard, a familiar tightness creeping up his lungs, threatening to steal the very breath from his chest.
“Time…”
The scarred hero lay before him, eyes weakly fluttering open again and again as he tried holding onto consciousness as it slipped back and forth like the tide. Time lay battered and broken on the marred ground, his body riddled with gashes and bruises. Blood oozed his forehead, spilling onto the dirt alongside the plethora of wounds that trickled crimson life, with the worst of it originating from the shredded chunk of armor embedded in his side. The golden armor’s sole purpose was to protect its owner from hits like this. For the first time, it had failed.
Unlike Sky’s breath which he inhaled deep gasps, each of Time’s breaths were slow and shallow, shaking his body with every inhale.
Sky was not a healer like Hyrule. He was not quick on his feet like Warriors. He had no strength like Twilight to save Time or himself. At that moment, Sky wished he was anyone else in the world. Anyone but himself.
But he was just the useless Skyloftian. The one Time loathed and did anything he could to stay away from him. The one who had made Time come along with him because no one else in camp could be bothered to, and because he would’ve rather suffered under Time’s disapproving gaze than patrol by himself. Here he was. Once again, he had failed.
A painful sounding shudder brought Sky back to the present, and to Time, who had finally lost his battle with consciousness. ‘No, no no.’
Though his lungs still burned as he fought to breathe, Sky slid down the wall, forcing his legs to obey as he moved to kneel beside Time. Panic and adrenaline filled him as he hovered over their leader. “Time, please, you need to wake back up,” He urged, forcing his gasping breaths to calm so he could speak. “Come on, Time.”
With a fluttery gasp, the other hero’s eyes blinked open, looking around with an unfocused gaze. “Sky…” He managed, hoarse voice hardly above a whisper, “What-” He cut himself off, body stiffening and eyes closing tightly, “Hurts.”
“I know, I know, please just hold on.” He had to think.
Sky had no idea how long it would take for the others to come looking for them. Supposedly everyone knew that he and Time were supposed to be having a ‘talk.’ An important one. Only, Sky didn’t know this little piece of information until they were already leaving camp, which left him as a giant ball of anxiety and anticipation for the entire patrol. They hadn’t spoken more than five words to each other before the monsters attacked. The whole point of a patrol was to find the monsters before they found you. Therefore, it was likely that no one would be looking for them for a while yet.
They were in a precarious situation. Time was badly wounded, and Sky’s asthma was clawing at his lungs, trying to escape and suffocate him at the worst possible time. Between his own items and the items of Time’s that he knew about, there was no way to contact or get the attention of the others. There was only one viable option: Get back to camp. Before Time bled out, preferably.
Sky looked back at Time. Slowly, he lowered his trembling hands onto the other’s chest. He gave himself a moment to breathe. But not long enough to rethink his choices. “We need to get you back to the others.” That was all the warning he gave before he grabbed the arm of Time’s less injured side and slipped it around his shoulders. He knew not to move an injured person, but there was nothing else he could do.
“I’ve got you,” He promised.
Standing was a monumental task, requiring Sky to summon every ounce of strength in him to push himself to his feet. Pain shot through his chest as the vice shrank around his lungs. It flared especially on his left side. The world around him spun as sounds faded and his head buzzed. He pitched forward, but did not fall. Time’s response was only a pained noise before his head lolled against Sky’s shoulder. His shallow breaths remained.
“Okay.” He gasped, “We’re getting you… Out of here.” To the others. To safety.
With a grunt, Sky began to stumble forward, dragging Time along with him. He took slow, deliberate steps, making sure that he could bear the weight of his comrade. The ground felt unsteady underneath his feet. The air still burned with fire.
Doubt never left his mind. It gnawed at his thoughts and fed off of his worries. What if he fell? What if he was too slow? What if this was the wrong choice? Could he even make it more than a few steps? Even as he continued on, all he could feel was Time’s body growing heavier and his chest getting tighter. Everyone at camp believed him to be the optimist, believing that they could do the impossible. No. He was the realist, and knew that each of his group could hold their own; he had no reason to doubt them. He knew what they were capable of. They could do anything.
As he stewed in his thoughts, Time began to drift back into consciousness, “Sky…?”
“Just hold on.” He bit out. There was no use in wasting his breath when he should be walking forward.
The scarred hero twisted slightly, grabbing a fistful of the shoulder of Sky’s tunic before grunting once again in pain. He frowned “...You’re hurt.”
“No. It’s your blood.” And it was. Sky’s tunic was slowly getting more stained with blood, “I’m fine.” Although, ‘fine’ was relative. He’d gotten a nice hit from some monster’s hammer, possibly a bruised or broken rib, which was currently not helping his breathing problems. There were plenty of other nicks and scratches, although the biggest problem was something neither of them could fix.
“You don’t have to carry me.” Time assured with a murmur, tone thick with pain.
“As if… you can walk.”
Time hummed an agreement, resting his eyes for a moment before they fluttered back open. “Self-sacrificing idiot.” He sighed, “No wonder you’re a hero.”
Yet, here he was, struggling to breathe, struggling to walk. Struggling to be anything close to even a fraction of what the others could be. He scoffed, “I’m no hero. Not like… you all.”
“Of course you are, Sky.” Time said, lifting his head wearily. His eyes were not entirely focused; now was not the time for this kind of conversation, and yet he asked, “Why… Why would you say that?”
Liar. “You hate me.” Sky said quietly, “The others…” A pause. They hated him too. Or at least, they never got too close. They never asked him to watch their backs, nor did they ever watch his. It was no wonder really, as he had nothing useful to offer them. They had swordsmen and knights who had trained longer than him and scholars who were far more brilliant. All he was to them was the sleepyhead, the screw-up, the one who had utterly failed them all, even if they’d never said so out loud. They knew. Somehow, they knew. About Demise. About the Curse. That’s why they never let him get close. Finally, Sky settled on a simpler answer as his chest continued to tighten and scream in pain. “They don’t trust me.”
Confusion fell over Time’s features, falling over the weary that still etched his face, “Hate you? Sky… why in blazes… would you ever think that?”
“Because everything… you do… testifies that.” He breathed hard, slowing their pace ever so slightly so he could speak less hindered. “You’re all so distant. I’m not the hero… everyone expects of me. Because you hate the sword. And I… I forged the sword. You… look at me the same way... you do her.” And that was the truth. He could never figure out why Time held the Master Sword in such high contempt. He blamed her for his terrible fate of life, even though Fi was innocent in the accusation and Sky was too much of a coward to properly defend her. His steps faltered as he tried to slow down more, which only provided the realization that if he stopped, he would not be able to start again. He sped back up.
Time stayed quiet, gaze darkening as it lowered to the floor. “That’s not true, Sky. I could…never hate you.”
“I’m very bad at being emotional,” Time chuckled bitterly, the laughter quickly turning into a coughing fit that made him very hard to hold onto. The coughing soon subsided as Time’s eyes slipped closed. This was not good.
Sky tightened his grip on the older man, “We’re going… to get you… back.” Time made no movement to confirm that he was still awake. “I promise. The rolling hill of the distant battlefield finally turned into a familiar path beneath his feet. There was still a long way to go, but at least he knew now that they were going in the right direction.
Although he was no longer speaking, air did not come any easier than it previously had. His breathing was coming in short gasps, asthma demanding to be acknowledged once again. Everything tightened inside him like a snake who had caught its meal. With only half a mind Sky fought against it, trying to will the vice around his lungs to loosen as the rest of his mind focused on simply putting one foot in front of the other.
“Just a little… further,” Muttered Sky to himself, as much as to Time. The distance between them and the others got smaller with every labored step, he had to remember that. But with each step, Time’s body seemed to grow heavier. His chest grew tighter and hotter as it burned. Darkness crept in on the corners of his vision and threatened to pull him under, but Sky refused to let it take hold. The others needed their leader. He fought it. He had to. He would.
The next step forced him to his knees.
He couldn’t.
A groan. “Sky?” Time blinked back to alertness.
“Hold on,” He bit out, trying to force his legs to stand against the weight.
Time grabbed at his shoulder, “Stop, you’re hurt.”
“No, I-”
Everything suddenly crashed down on him. His vision blurred. The snake coiled around his lungs. Time’s form slid from his grip as coughs that felt akin to stab wounds escaped from him. Panic filled him. He couldn’t breathe.
He couldn’t breathe.
He couldn’t breathe.
The world spun. A hand was on him. A voice reached his ears but was indiscernible amidst the ringing and static. The darkness finally won.
- - -
Time could only watch in horror as he crumpled to the ground along with Sky, the sound of his labored breathing and retched coughing filling the silence. “Sky!”
He could feel the pressure in his side, the pain radiating from each and every wound, but all he could focus on was the young man who had fought so fiercely at his side. Fear filled him, though he pushed it away in an attempt at thinking clearly.
“Hey, stay with me, buddy,” He struggled to move, his body protesting every movement as he rolled Sky onto his back. The Skyloftian’s breaths were shallow as the coughing slowed down, his lips tinged with blue. Of course he was wounded. Time knew this even through the fog that filled his mind since the moment Sky had brushed it off.
In an attempt to stir him, Time grabbed him by the shoulder and shook him. Nothing. “Sky, wake up!” Even with the most intimidating voice he could muster, the boy lay unmoving.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…” He pleaded, his voice hoarse and desperate. He never meant to make any of his boys feel unloved. And he had failed miserably at that, if Sky’s unbelief at his earlier words were any indication. Now here they lay, possibly dying. Time had been no help; Sky could’ve easily made it back to camp if he had not been so concerned with taking Time along with him. It would be a fatal mistake for him. Sky’s breaths only got shallower and the moment in-between them grew steadily longer.
With that realization, the pain encompassing him began to overwhelm him, fogging over the last of his thoughts as he lay his weary head back onto the earth. “I love you….”
He was no doubt slipping away. The darkness was welcome.
Until a shout pierced through the haze and shapes and colors filled his vision. Someone kneeled beside him- “Time!”
He shook his head, “Sky… help him,” each new voice and sound was like a stake being driven through his mind. “Please.” A small hand grabbed his. Four stood over him. “Please.” He repeated.
And then he finally faded.