#darrix

Echo beamed as she saw her friend. “Hi Darrix! Happy Dawning!!! I hope you like these. I was thinking about giving you something else but I think Eris will like the other ones better. I hope you enjoy chocolate!”

“I want you to take a look at his gun and see if it feels weird to you.”

Echo raised a turquoise brow and canted her head. Since taking off time for medical leave, she’d taken an interest in gun smithing. Banshee wasn’t always the easiest to learn from but his craftsmanship was top notch. If there was anyone to learn gunsmithing from, it was him. And if it kept her off the field and away from endangering her fellow guardians? All the better.

It hurt. It all did. He wasn’t sure why, and yet he could feel it, deep in his chest. Twinging and aching. “Maybe something is wrong with me.”

Dipstick materializes at the Titan’s shoulder, pressing against it lightly. “No, I don’t think so. That tightness is a human grief response. It means you need to cry.”

Darrix nods, but otherwise doesn’t respond, instead opting to fiddle with one of the charms Eris had given him. It felt good I’m his hands, like a small glimmer of etched moonshine; like a slice of the sun.

“It just hurts.” He finally mumbles. “It hurts so bad I don’t understand.” Tears we’re gathering at the edges of his eyes, though he didn’t seem to notice. “I just wish I could be a normal Guardian. Why can’t I be like everyone else? Like Peixe and Dev-4, and Echo? Why can’t I just..” He huffs, finally wiping tears from their face with the back of a hand.

“I just want people to be proud of me.”

Dipstick dips into the space between the Titan’s chin and knees, buzzing gently. “I’m proud of you.” He says, softly.

Those tired, golden eyes shut for a moment as Darrix rests his head carefully on top of the Ghost’s shell. “Thank you.”