Chapter Text
Rain battered down Mark's body as he lay on the floor, two other men standing just in front of him. They were hooded, and had their backs to the street lights. He wouldn't be able to ID them, if he was to survive.
"Come on! We know you have some glimmer with you." The one in front kneeled down, a knife on his hand that was now pointed at Mark's neck. "Give it to us! Or do you want to die?!"
"F-Fuck you!" The man on the floor was crying and had already pissed himself from fear, but the rain made it unnoticeable. Not even during the Red War he had been so afraid. Well, he had thakfully been far away from all that carnage. "..."
The bladed man laughed, and kneeled closer, his blade now mere inches from Mark's face. "Oh, so you want to be stabbed then? Well, we'll do that and take your glimmer! How's that sound?"
"U-Uhhhh, bro?" The other thief that was presumably making guard looked behind Mark, his posture instantly changing, like he was about to run away. "Bro!"
"What?!" The thief with the knife looked back at his accomplice, and then to where the other was pointing. "...Shit."
In an instant, the pair ran away into the street, forgetting about Mark. He struggled to get to his knees, but after some time he was able to. Footsteps behind him made it clear that someone had spooked his assailants. He turned around, waiting for a Guardian to be there, making a heroic pose or whatever they did when rescuing someone.
Instead, a Fallen Captain stood there, almost one and a half times his standing size, a pair of swords on their belt, a Wire Rifle on their larger set of hands. Thick purple robes covered their body from the intensifying rain, the breathing of what he assumed was ether and the crackling of electricity around the Fallen's body making the moment a surreal one. Like being saved by an angel of death.
"A-Aah..." Mark got up and took a step back from the Fallen. By the Traveler, they were masssive! One slap from them and his head would come flying off...
"Is the human okay?" The raspy English caught Mark by surprise. He knew Fallen were in the Last City. His house and shop were close to their living space. He'd seen them walking around sometimes, speaking their own language. But never English. And now here was one, caring for him.
"Yeah." His arenaline had already passed, and Mark began to feel the pain on his side from where he was shoved into the ground. He felt cold, rain pelting his body and making him shiver. "T-Thank you."
The Fallen didn't answer, instead nodding their head. He felt the creature's four eyes looking him up and down, no doubt thinking about how pathetic and weak he was. "Does the human have a place to live?"
"Y-Yes, I... I do." The man had wrapped his arms around his body, rubbing himself with his arms, shivering hard. He waited for a second, thinking the Fallen would say something else, but they didn't. So, Mark began to walk to his house which was thankfully not too far away. Footsteps behind Mark made him turn around again, only to find the Fallen was now following him. "I-Is there something wrong?"
"On Misraakskel's honor, i will make sure you reach your living space safe." Mark looked at the Fallen, bewildered. He knew of the Coalition, of course. Of how Fallen and Cabal were allied with the Vanguard, fighting alongside one another. From what his friends and family had told him, they were quite amicable and polite. But this polite?
"...Sure." The man resumed walking, hearing the heavy footsteps behind him. After a moment, he put his hands on his pockets, took his keys out, and unlocked his front door. He stepped in, and was about to close the door when he saw the Fallen standing there, in the rain. "Want to come in?"
"Very well." The Fallen squeezed through the door like a cat going through a grate. Then, Mark closed the door.
Mark was panicking internally. Why did he let a Fallen Captain into his house?! Now he had to take a shower and care for his guest!
Thankfully for the man, the Fallen was leaving their wet equipment on the entrance. They put their weapons beside the door, and the cloak in a perch. At least they knew that much about being in a human house.
"You uh... you stay there. I need to shower." The Fallen nodded, looking around. Mark went up, and took a quick shower in record time, seeing he was already getting a nasty bruise. Putting some comfortable clothes he went down to meet the Fallen. "H-Hey! What are you doing?!"
The Captain had gone over his counter, and was grabbing the clothes that he was working on. Like a child having been caught with their hands on the cookie jar, the Fallen let go of the clothes, with them thankfully falling on the table. "My apologies."
"..." For a moment, Mark thought the voice from the Fallen sounded sad. But that would be impossible. They were just sad because they were caught! "It's okay."
"Is the human a thread crafter?" The Captain kept looking at Mark's work, their two pair of arms on their side.
"No, I don't make the thread." Mark's house's first floor was a clothing shop. He bought thread and fabric, and made them into usable items. He knew knitting, sewing, crocheting, he could do dolls and toys, he made clothes, usually in the three standard sizes, although he took personalized requests from time to time. "I buy some, and then make it into things."
The Fallen's eyes focused on one plush in a shelf. It was of a Cabal, wearing the Imperial colors. It had been a hit when he made them, several parents buying them for their kids to help them not get scared of the new alien citizens. It was quite hard making the pattern for such an unconventional body plan, but Mark was proud of how it turned out.
"Do you want anything else?" The Captain shook their head, but stayed where he was. "Well, thank you for saving me, uhh..."
"Captain Verak of House Light." Mark nodded. He didn't doubt the Fallen was a Captain, or from the House of Light. But it was nice to know the name of his savior. "And your name, human?"
"I'm Mark." The Fallen grunted in affirmation, looking straight at him still. "So uhh... I have to work tomorrow, so I'd like to sleep. Could you...?"
"Of course." The Captain walked to the door, Mark opening the door for them. They grabbed their things, donned their cape, and walked into the night.
"Have a good night, clothier Mark."
The man closed the door, and let the biggest sigh of his life. He couldn't believe that just happened.
Mark went up the stairs, groaning from the pain that throbbed in his side.