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The bounties of spring are still thriving in the well manicured landscape of a private mansion despite the fact it is deep into summer. Flowers are as vibrant as they’ve ever been, preening prettily under the blazing sun like jeweled accents against the lush green backdrop of their foliage. It would be a serene scene if not for the insistent clang of metal cutting through any attempts of meditation.

Two men are locked in a heated spar, their clothes nearly drenched in sweat from their excretion. Quincy scowls as a drop of his sweat trickles into his eye, Geode leaving him no chance to so much as wipe his face as they exchange blows. He feels a tinge of pain in his wrist, the muscles straining from countering heavy hits. This isn’t the first time he’s gone against his head of security for training, but it is the first that the mothman has shown such little restraint. At the rate that they’re going, he won’t last the full 2 hours.

Quincy searches his mind for any clue about Geode’s foul mood, but it’s hard for him to grasp any proper thought unrelated to their sparring. Any lapse in his focus will have him knocked off his feet. It would be better if he called a stop so they could talk and sort their issues.

“Ge-” “Don’t lag, even if you’re tired, you can’t show it.” They both speak at once, Geode’s commanding voice overpowering Quincy’s attempt to call for a pause.

If Geode can’t be talked down, Quincy’s just going to have to get creative. The living pumpkin shifts his attention from countering to offsetting. He waits for Geode to thrust his blade before using his own to arc the momentum and disarm them both. Geode is thrown off balance and leans too far forward, his lead leg knocking into Quincy’s and forcing him down to a knee.

Quincy is relieved by the change of pace, and quickly steps back to block Geode from reaching their swords to continue. “Wait!” He holds out his hands to further halt Geode’s approach, needing him to just stop for a moment. “What has gotten into you?” Quincy asks, his tone nearly pleading. It isn’t often he has to jump on anyone’s case, especially not Geode’s, so he’s more than a little worried.

Geode opens and closes his mouth multiple times to answer but no noise comes out besides the occasional clack of his teeth. Too many explanations glide across his tongue and become a tangled mess that choke him up. He sighs heavily, his shoulders deflated and his head hanging slightly. “It’s…”

Quincy lowers himself so they’re at an even height, feeling uncomfortable towering over someone he considers an equal. “It’s okay. I need you to talk to me. I need to know what’s going on so we can both fix it.”

Geode doesn’t lift his head when Quincy’s knee comes into sight, but it helps him find his words regardless. “It was my fault that He took you.”

Geode doesn’t have to mention a name for Quincy to know what he’s referring to. The time that Sigmund managed to break into the mansion and kidnap him last year. It’s the sort of memory he doesn’t enjoy dwelling on or returning to. “It’s not-”

“It is,” Geode cuts in before Quincy can begin placating him with excuses. “He got into your home. Took you away from the place you should have been safest. I should have made the mansion more secure. I should have made sure you weren’t—” weak. The implication hangs heavily in the air, but Geode can’t bear to state the accusation. It was his failure that got Quincy taken. He should have been stronger, he should have made sure Quincy was stronger. He simply should have done more. But he didn’t. He failed and Quincy was hurt because of his own incompetence and negligence.

It didn’t matter that Quincy was home now. Damage had already been done and the shame of it gave Geode no moment of peace.

“Geode,” Quincy softens his tone to console him, “That was no one’s fault but Sigmund’s. None of us expected he’d get to me and be able to get me out of the mansion. But we know better now. We know what he’s capable of and willing to do, and we’ve all gotten stronger. If he ever comes crawling back, we’ll be ready. All of us.”

Quincy stands first and dusts off his clothes before holding out a hand to help Geode. The mothman merely looks up at him for a moment, searching his eyes for something important, and when he finds it he accepts the help.

“Come on, we aren’t done yet.” Quincy hands Geode his sword as an offering of another chance and they return to their starting positions.

Geode doesn’t lessen his strength, but now that Quincy knows what he’s up against, the bad memories and burning guilt, he gives everything he has and a fistful more. The garden once again fills with the violent ring of striking metal and doesn’t grow silent until Quincy has Geode unarmed and on his back. His smile of victory is nearly blinding in its radiance as he offers Geode a hand once more.

“See, I’ve learned a few things. And there's no one in this world I'd trust more than you to protect me.”