i’ll get back to the more serious stuff eventually
The apartment was quiet. Shoes were placed by the wall where they should be, one pair being large, heavy boots, the other being a child’s pair of canvas sneakers. The lights were dim and the blinds drawn, which only made the apartment slowly grow darker as the sun set behind the City walls. A cigarette that never stopped burning was placed in the ashtray in the front hall on a high shelf that kept small fingers from reaching it, making the hall reek of tobacco.
There was no small body that came rushing at him to collide with his knees and welcome him home. Nor was there the large frame of his partner ambling out of the living room to greet him as well. It was a ritual that started ever since Vencel could walk. To not have it happen was odd, but not entirely out of place. There was a reason why no one met him at the door.
Hakim smiled beneath his mask, he knew what was going on. Behind him, Vigil chuckled to himself, a rumbling sound as the Titan shook his head. “I think you have a surprise waiting for you.”
“Perhaps. I believe I know what’s happening though.” He turned enough to nod gratefully at his guard. “Thank you for escorting me home.”
Vigil, of course, waved off the gratitude. “It’s my duty,” he said. “I’ll see you in the morning, Speaker.” With Hakim’s well wishes, the Titan walked down the hall, his large figure and decorated armor disappearing from sight.
Hakim entered the apartment quietly, removing his shoes with ease and placing them on the other side of Vencel’s shoes. The mask was taken off next, placed on a side table in case he had any late visitors and needed to conceal his identity quickly. He pulled his cowl down, not bothering to deal with the hair that stuck up in all directions, and tiptoed into the living room.
Thick, long legs were draped over the arm of the couch, though a foot was sliding off and threatening to land on the floor. A large blanket was thrown hastily over rest of the body, bunching up around the middle that let Hakim catch a glimpse of a dark purple stomach. He leaned over the back of the couch, a smile on his lips as he lifted up part of the blanket. Bright blue eyes peered up at him, three settling on the side of Nul’s face before closing and their mouth split open. “Welcome home.”
“It’s good to be home,” Hakim replied. A hand reached up to cup his cheek, and he turned his head, kissing the palm. “Is Ven with you?”
Null sighed deeply, let go of Hakim’s face, and pulled the blanket back even more. Vencel was laying on their other arm, curled up, pink hair surely tangled, and sleeping soundly. More than he had been the past few nights at least. Nightmares had been plaguing the child, and it pained Hakim to hear terrified whimpers next to his bed in the middle of the night. Hakim watched his the child sleep for a few moments, counting the rise and falls of the small chest. “Got him to sleep an hour ago,” Null said. “All those sleepless nights finally wore him out.”
The types of nightmares Vencel was having would tire anyone out. Dreams of the Void, of grasping hands threatening to drown him, a veiled creature who dogged his every step; those were not the dreams of a regular child. They weren’t monsters under the bed or in the closet, they were as real as the Darkness that threatened Humanity’s existence every day. Unlike the Darkness though, Vencel’s dreams couldn’t be driven off with the burning fire of a Dawnblade. It was frustrating for Hakim to watch as his child lost sleep for days at a time, but all he could do was be there for Vencel.
A few moments passed, then Hakim pushed himself away from the couch. “I’ll be back,” he told Null. He got a noncommittal wave as went to the master bedroom to change out of his robes and into a more comfortable set of clothes. When he walked back to the living room, he circled around the couch, and Null huffed softly.
“Planning on sleeping too?” Their mouth closed, allowing two eyes to appear on their face, this time where eyes were supposed to be. They gave Hakim a quick once over, glancing at his flannel pajama pants and off shoulder long sleeved shirt that covered his hands. The eyes went away, mouth opening once more as they pulled Hakim in top of them. Vencel was a welcome weight on their arm. Knowing where their child was eased any panic that could crop up. With Vencel tucked against their side, they could protect him.
The same for Hakim if they were going to be honest.
“Perhaps. Perhaps I just want to lay with you two,” Hakim said, adjusting his position to get more comfortable. His leg slid between Null’s, while the other was outside their thigh. One arm was placed on Null’s broad chest, and the other was thrown over their shoulder. He rested his head on the meat of Null’s chest, feeling the comforting buzz of static emanating from their skin, and sighed happily.
“Just for a few hours,” Null said. They pulled the blanket back over all three of them, leaving a hole to let cool air in. “The couch isn’t a good place to sleep.”
“And yet here we are, sleeping on the couch. Such terrible life choices.” Hakim laughed, ducking his head before Null could flick his ear.
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“How long have you been in the Void?” Hakim asked. He watched, hands hanging at his sides, as Null spun stars around their fingers and changed the course of an asteroid with a nudge from their boot. Earlier, they had held a sun in their palms when Hakim saw them in the distance. The closer he got, the clearer a song emanating from the star became. Null has been humming along with it, bobbing their head in time with the notes. The second Hakim made his presence known, Null had let go of the sun, holding their hand behind their back like a child getting caught taking sweets when they shouldn’t have.
Beneath his mask, Hakim had smiled.
Null glanced down at him now. Their hands were holding his, as they helped him hop between icy rocks that made up a planet’s rings. They had offered to show him a far off path, perhaps one that the Traveler had taken so long ago, and Hakim allowed his curiosity to take over. “How long has it been since the last time we saw each other?” They asked, and together Null and Hakim kicked off an asteroid, leaving it spinning behind them.
“Six months,” Hakim replied. The path Null followed was invisible to his eyes, but there were moments where he would catch the faintest glimmer of Light, followed by a tendril of Darkness that chased after it.
Smoke blew out from between Null’s teeth. “Such a short amount of time,” they sighed. “I have been in the Void for centuries.”
“Is that why you look as you do?”
For a moment, Hakim worried that he had crossed a boundary as they landed on an asteroid and didn’t continue on. His feet slid on the built up ice, and the only that kept him from sliding off was the grip Null had on his wrist. Three eyes peered down at him, but Hakim was undaunted. He stared into the eyes of creatures far larger than Null. He listened to the discordant song of a sleeping god daily. Compared to such things, Null was small, manageable, but no less dangerous.
Null’s free hand plucked their cigarette from their mouth the moment their eyes closed. They blew out a ring of smoke that swirled into its own galaxy before it vanished with a wave of their hand. Ice clung to their face, sticking to the gentle slope of their cheekbone and their rounded chin. “I do,” they began gently. “And I don’t. I was made like this because of what resides in the Void. I wander the spaces between stars looking for people I have lost, otherwise I would have left ages ago. I have seen many things, Speaker, humanity laid to ruin is but one, but I have a fondness for your reality. Places where humanity has survived an apocalypse gives me hope that I may find my crew, my family again.”
Hakim stored that bit of information away to study later. There were hidden meanings in Null’s words, and when he was safely in his own body again, he would take the words apart. “You became… this,” he stared into Null’s half empty face, hoping they would understand what he meant, “because someone made you? I’m sorry.”
Null tossed their head back. Booming laughter shook the planet and rattled the stars. Hakim felt his heart squeeze in his chest, eyes wide underneath his mask. He had never heard a laugh resonate the space around anyone, and if Null didn’t have a hand around his wrist, he was sure that he would’ve slipped off the icy rock.
Teal teeth grinned at him as the laughter slowed to a stop, points sharp and too big to fit in a normal human mouth. If they had eyes at the moment, he was sure he would be gazing into nebulas of mirth. “There is nothing to be sorry for,” Null told him. “I made this decision, and for the people I have loved and cared for, I would make it again.” Their hand went from Hakim’s wrist to hold his hand loosely. “Without hesitation, I would face the veiled creature as many times as it takes to protect people I love.”
“Would friends fall under that category?” Hakim asked without thinking. His face pinched in embarrassment immediately. He was centuries old, and here he was in the Void flirting.
If Nirav ever found out, he wouldn’t let Hakim live the moment down.
Null chuckled, their shoulders rising and falling in an exaggerated motion. “Do you consider yourself a friend?”
Faces of Guardians passed, many of whom looked to him for guidance because of his ties to the Light, and a precious view who knew who he was behind the mask. He thought of the burden of speaking for a slumbering giant and the visions it granted him. His trials, his failure with Osiris, other Guardians who he had seen one day and then never again, and the Ghosts who had yet to find their Guardians in the vast solar system that hung around his study and danced in the orrery. He thought of the dead Ghosts that would pass into his hands, their cores cold, their shells dented, and what little Light they had left as he returned them to the Traveler.
To Null, he answered, “In a sense.”
“Do you ever regret being made into who you are now? A Guardian, a faceless being who watches a sleeping god? Brought back from the dead for a purpose unknown?” Null hunched their shoulders, lowering their head so they were face to face with Hakim. Their mouth was too wide to be human, even without a grin, their mouth took up too much space on their lower face. Every word was enunciated clearly, though there was a static-like quality to the deep rumble of their voice, as if it were an old recording rather than being used in the moment.
Hakim raised his chin, half in defiance to the questions, half to steel his nerves. He was starting to feel the lingering effects of the Void. Stars pulled on his organs, gravity wells tugged at his robes, and for some odd reason electricity was zipping up and down the arm that Null was holding. “There are things I have come to regret. Such things happen when one has a long life. But, I do not regret becoming a Guardian. I do not regret the visions from the Traveler, nor my decision to speak for it. I have found my purpose.”
“And that is?”
“To await the Traveler’s awakening, and to aid any Guardian that comes to me for guidance.”
Silence filled the space between them. Distantly, strangely, Hakim could hear asteroids crashing into each other. The grip on his wrist lightened, and, out of a desire not to slip off the rock he was standing on, he grabbed Null’s glove. A too wide grin split their face, and for a second he noticed the emergence of several eyes before they sunk back into the skin.
Null tugged him off the asteroid, and carried him back to his body. He was breathless when he opened his eyes, fingers reflexively reaching for his Ghost. For a sightless moment, he felt electricity dance up his spine and a voice whisper in his ear.
“You’ve given me much to think about, Speaker. I await your return to the Void.”
His Ghost blinked her optic up at him, her shell fitting neatly between his fingers.
“Are you all right?” she asked
Wordlessly, he nodded. An ache had settled into his knees, and he focused on the pain to make the world real again. Pigeons cooed outside his window, and beyond them, the Traveler was hanging in the sky, oblivious to all. On the edge of his mind, he could hear an old song, and the resonating tune that only happened when the sun was shining.
Hakim grunted as he stood up, ignoring the way his knees popped. He wondered if next time, Null would hold a sun in their palm again, and teach him the song of its core.
The Void for Hakim is a mixture of the spaces between stars and the warm Light of the Traveler. He is both a towering figure and a speck of dust, listening to the songs in the silence with a discerning ear, and parting the curtains of the Darkness to peer inside. He is on guard in liminal spaces.
Often times, he is alone. Very few Guardians have the desire to venture into the Void, and the ones who are brave and foolish enough to let their minds break free with only their Ghosts to act as an anchor to the Light, are often marred by the stars they walk through.
However, he isn’t free of that either. Stars cling to his robes, attracted to his gravity as he makes his way towards the Traveler. The few Guardians he has met in the Void tell him he’s like a beacon, a free-moving sun. Hakim accepts this, and files the thought away; it isn’t important.
He has never gone so far into the Void that he’s stumbled across the Nine, and he isn’t sure if that’s a boon or not.
When he sees a towering figure standing in his path, a lit cigarette hanging out of their mouth, he doesn’t stop walking, though he is cautious. The figure has broad shoulders, and stands at an incredible height. Their skin melds with the Void to a point where Hakim isn’t sure where their head begins and ends. The space around them vibrates, and it takes a moment for Hakim to realize that they’re speaking with an impossibly deep voice that rattles the stars and disturbs icy rocks from pre-determined paths.
Hakim does not stop walking until he’s standing in front of the stranger. He tilts his head back, and back, and back just to look into their face. Instead of two eyes, there are four that are a startling blue filled with galaxies of their own. He’s about to introduce himself when the stranger closes their eyes. His not real breath catches in his throat when a fanged mouth opens, and he can feel his body rattle with every word spoken.
“I’ve seen you before,” the stranger says. They give a short bow, and Hakim is quick to return the gesture. “The Speaker, others call you. Even here, you wear a mask.” Hakim unconsciously touches his mask. “You aren’t lost. How did you find me?”
“I fear that you have me at a disadvantage,” Hakim starts. “You know my name, but I have no idea who you are.”
The stranger chuckles deeply, their shoulders trembling with the force of their own laughter. “The Speaker is not a name, it’s a title. However, I’ll give you my name regardless. I am called Null.” Again, they bow, at the waist this time with a hand over their heart. Stars chase after them, forming new constellations until Null straightens their back.
Hakim regards Null with hidden, discerning eyes. They look as if they used to be human going by their shape. Either they were lost to the Void long ago, or the Void itself made them to interact with visitors. He watches as their mouth closed and their eyes open. They stare at a far off point behind him, and before Hakim can ask what was seen, Null wraps a large hand around his wrist. Despite the size difference the hold is gentle. Once more their eyes close and their mouth opens.
“I’m afraid you’ve overstayed your welcome,” they say. “I can help you find your way back.”
“Will we meet again?” He wants to know more about Null. He has questions that settled in his mind without his approval. Null gazes down at him, lips quirked into a smirk.
“I’m certain we will,” they tell him. “You’re the first person in… in a very long time that’s talked to me.”
They lean down until their face is inches away from Hakim’s, and in the next moment, he jolts out of his meditation, his Ghost on his lap and the Traveler as silent as ever outside his window. The phantom weight of an impossibly large hand is still on his wrist, and Hakim isn’t sure how much of the interaction was real.
Sleep is something that eludes them. Deep sleep is something they cannot hope to achieve, have not been able to achieve in many, many years. So when the sunsets, they remain awake, watching the horizon as it changes colors. Blue gives way to oranges and reds and violets until the night sky is overhead and stars appear as far off beacons of light among the darkness. The phantom of sleep plays at their mind when they look up and track constellations, but it is not enough to force them into bed.
Null sits next to an open window, elbow resting on the sill, hand propping up their chin, and watches smoke float high into their air from their cigarette before dissipating. Two eyes are focused on the sky above while a third tracks useless shapes in the smoke. The sounds of the City slowly falling to sleep become soothing noise in the background, a thing to shuffled away to focus on later. The sounds in the room are much more important for them to pay attention to, but they have not been asked to help and so they will stay at the open window, acting as if they weren’t paying attention.
Behind them, they listen as the Speaker shed his mask and robes, going from a figure of near-holy anonymity to a simple man. Heavy robes hit the floor followed by a sigh, and Null can hear the pops of bones with every moment. Their eyes close in an indulgent smile, and the smoke from their cigarette becomes thicker. The robes are picked up to be stored properly, along with the cowl, and boots are placed out of the way, while the mask is left on a table with a soft click. They could turn around then, but they don’t. Dresser drawers open and close, the sounds of bones popping happen once more, and then there’s a muffled sigh.
That’s when Null turns their full attention to the man behind them.
Hakim is standing, swaying on his feet, hands covering his face. The large bruises on his arms are finally starting to heal, though the scars where his skin was rubbed raw in his shackles stubbornly remain. Over time, those will heal as well, becoming nothing more than a reminder of his captivity, but Null knows from experience that it will be a long time coming. Hakim is small in the pair of sweatpants and an overly large shirt that definitely does not belong to him that he wears, nothing like the imposing figure he cuts as the Speaker, but there is strength that Null admires in him; a quiet strength that comes from age and wisdom. That’s part of the reason why they don’t unfurl themself from their seat and pull him into an embrace, and wait patiently for Hakim to come to them.
The other part is that they are far too comfortable to move.
Hakim makes his way into their lap anyway; feet shuffling on the ground until he’s close enough for Null to tug him closer. Picking him up would be too easy, and he hates when they pick him up as if he’s nothing more than a doll anyway, so the soft chuckle that escapes them when Hakim tips forward is the most they do. They adjust in their seat to accept Hakim’s figure on his lap. By the end of it, his legs are thrown over one of their thighs, and his head is pillowed on the arm that their chin rests on. Null plucks their cigarette from their mouth (though with their eyes still open it looks as if they’re taking it out of their face), and they hum softly.
They are delighted when Hakim hums as well.
Four eyes close, and a mouth opens. Razor sharp teeth that glow teal click together, tongue and jaw working over as it gets ready to be put to use. “No one would fault you for taking longer to rest,” they say. Their chest rumbles with every word they speak, and they don’t miss how Hakim tips his head forward to put an ear against their chest. “Certainly not me.” Null can feel Hakim’s eyes roll behind his closed eyes. A smile tugs at the corner of their mouth, and they pull him up higher onto their shoulder. There is grumbling, the kind that has Null outright grinning, until it stops when they press their lips to Hakim’s gray hair.
They love the feel of his hair against their face. Despite the disheveled state of it, his hair is soft as it brushes against their cheeks. Cowlicks tickle their chin, it seems as though the sections that stick straight up have grown in number, and they know Hakim will never bother with something so trivial when he wears a cowl for most of the day. They bury their face in his hair, rubbing the part of their face that used to have a nose in it, and catching the scent. Smoke and sandalwood and the stifling heat that follows Hakim whenever he meditates deeply.
Null does not remember if there were any scents that reminded them of home in the same way Hakim’s does. They do not ponder on this thought.
The steady rise and fall of Hakim’s chest brings Null back to reality. “There’s a bed. You should sleep on it,” they comment.
Hakim sighs heavily, as if he was roused from a deep sleep instead of a light doze. He’s annoyed and half tempted to fall back asleep just to avoid the silent order. “Will you lay with me? To sleep?” He clarifies.
“Of course,” Null concedes easily, not one to deny Hakim anything. They do jostle him, though, after a minute goes by and he still has not moved from their lap. Then there is softer grumbling when Null keeps him from walking away, hand gently holding his wrist. They took in the bags under his eyes, the slouch that only appears behind doors, the way he seats on the balls of his feet, the bandages on his wrists and ankles, and say, “I love you.”
A smile blooms on Hakim’s face, laughter lines appearing in force and dimples marring his cheeks. Even with his eyes half closed, there is a spark in them. “I love you, as well.” He whispers. “Sleep?”
Null stands up from their chair. They reach over and place their ever-burning cigarette into an ashtray. Their mouth disappears, and four blue eyes open. It’s tempting to carry Hakim to bed, and it would be so easy, but they let him go when he shuffles away. Dutifully, they follow, removing their own robes and draping the heavy fabric and belt over the back of their seat. They take their boots off as well, and are left in the tight shirt that they are half sure they died in and thick pants. They wait until Hakim is laying under the duvet to climb on top of the bed, and pull him into their arms.
“Will you actually sleep?” Hakim asks.
Sighing, Null thinks of all the nights they were awake for. Every sunrise and sunset in all the horizons they watched. Time stretched into eternity for them, and they were sure that if they were human, they would’ve gone mad centuries ago. “I’ll try,” they say.
Hakim closes his eyes, and falls asleep quickly. Null runs their fingers through his hair, waiting for the sun to rise, and keeps watch for him.
