#levitate

“A letter?” (Y/N) asked incredulously. It was early, much too early to be awake, but Torchbearer had come bursting in, as he’d taken to doing since they’d gotten their own tents. 

He insisted that it was no different to him shaking her awake early in the morning when they used to have to share the same cot, but it certainly felt different. 

The man in question stood before her, eyes wide and cautious, messily dressed, clearly done in a hurry. In his hand, a scrunched letter. Without waiting for her to give permission or even scrub the sleep from her eyes, he plopped down on the edge of her bed, leaving her to sit up beside him, still wrapped in her blanket.

She looked cute like this, sleepy and slightly dopey, hair messed up and eyes squinting at the light adjustment.

He opted to ignore it for the mystery in his hand.

“Josh delivered it this morning. Says he found it on the outskirts of camp along his guard route,” Torchbearer answered as he ripped it open. The letter was torn, burning fraying the edges. Worn. It had clearly taken a great deal to get it here. 

(Y/N) leant into Torchbearer as he pulled the letter out, chest pressed to his back as she read over his shoulder. Heat crept up his neck and to his ears, hands shaking slightly as he tried to hold the letter still. 

“I am out here and I am very alive. I’m sometimes scared, but always discovering something new, and I will not stop. Cover me!”

(Y/N)’s eyes scanned the final lines with intrigue. Someone escaped Dema. Someone was out in Trench. No one had escaped since…

This was revolutionary. They had to find him, bring him home to camp and-

Her heart came to a shuddering stop when she read the name signed beneath it. 

Clancy

She quickly snatched the letter from Torchbearer’s hands, pulling it closer to her eyes as she swept over the scraggled handwriting along the page. This was a trick. Torchbearer let out a resigned noise as she snatched it from him, leaning over her to try and peek back at the page.

“This is a trick,” (Y/N) snarled, rage filling her words and Torchbearer turned to her with confused eyes. 

Anger seemed to spill into every inch of her body, trembling her hands slightly.

This was cruel. Beyond cruel, even for Dema. Dangling this before her. She already knew that they knew she was here. 

“What? How can you be sure?” Torchbearer asked with furrowed brows, and (Y/N)’s eyes snapped to him, cold and hurt. She presented the letter to him, borderline thrusting it into his face.

“Nothing comes in or out of Dema. Ever. The bishops wouldn’t allow something like this out unless they were trying to lure us,” She snipped, words sharp. His eyes softened, something sad shifting behind them that she didn’t have the energy to unpack now “We have to move camp.” 

“Maybe this is different. You got out so surely-” Torchbearer started, trying to pull (Y/N) back as she started clambering out of her cot. She turned suddenly, almost startling him back.

“It isn’t. Clancy was my friend in Dema, and no one was under the Bishops’ thumb more than him. If anyone was gonna escape, it wouldn’t be him,” (Y/N) snapped. Torchbearer could feel the anger vibrating under her skin, but he also saw beyond it. The way her eyes scrunched slightly as she spoke and the wobble in her lip, which she hid behind a suspiciously timed mouth wipe.

“Maybe we should explore this, (Y/N). Maybe you got lucky,” He offered gently, sliding his hand to hers, and gripping firmly. Grounding.

(Y/N) scoffed “Please. Luck doesn’t exist in that place. They’re trying to trick us and trap us and I am not letting them do to you what they did to me,” Her voice wavered, and she turned away almost immediately. THis wasn’t right. She knew the Bishops were cruel. She’d experienced that first hand but this…

Without wasting another second, Torchbearer rose to his feet, wrapping his arms around her. Against her better judgement she found herself melting into his touch. He always made her feel like everything was okay somehow, even now when it felt like her world was being barricaded with a machine gun. One hand rested on the back of her head, keeping her close as he shushed her quietly when she began to sniffle.

“Don’t pursue this. Please. I can’t-” Her attempts to speak were quickly foiled, and he shushed her again, nose pressed into her hair.

“Okay. Okay. I’m not going anywhere.”

—

The walk home seemed much less grueling than it had before. Clancy trailed behind (Y/N) and Torchbearer. She and Clancy hadn’t spoken much since they’d actually left Dema. It almost felt wrong. Like she resorted back to who she had been 7 years ago, with meek conversations and brushing hands in corridors. With Torchbearer it was easy - he’d never been part of her life before Trench but Clancy…

Sure, she was glad she got him out of that hell, but the longer she sat with his company, the more she found herself unsure of her company. 

Torchbearer wasn’t oblivious to the shift.The beginning of the walk had grins, disbelieving laughter and excited squeezing of his arm, nearly knocking the torch out of his hand every time. Now it was nervous glances, biting of the cheek, and wringing hands. 

“What’s going on?” Torchbearer asked in a hushed tone, leaning close to (Y/N) as they walked, mindful to not let Clancy or the rest of the banditos overhear. She jumped, almost startled by the sound of her voice and turned to him with an unsure look.

“Not here,” She replied quietly, and Torchbearer nodded. He understood - there had been many a time where he hadn’t wanted to air his dirty laundry out in front of the rest of their group. They’d have plenty of time. He was silent for a few minutes, eyeing her in deliberation before pulling his bandana down slightly. 

“How did you know?” His question wasn’t an unfair one, but (Y/N) gave him an annoyed glance. Oh, there she was. 

She’d answered this question this morning - yesterday morning? - did she really have to answer it again? “I saw it in a dream,” she said shortly, exhaustion starting to take its toll. There were still hours left of their journey, waiting in anticipation to hear the clopping of Nico’s horse in the distance. It was no wonder she was starting to get a little cranky.

Torchbearer raised his eyebrow in that condescending way that really got her nerves. “You’ve never had visions before,” His words didn’t hold an accusation, just curiosity and a mild concern. He hadn’t seen anything. He’d received no calling, and yet (Y/N), who’d never seen snippets of the future before had not only directed them, but been right.

Her eyes narrowed at him slightly, something Torchbearer couldn’t quite place settling on her shoulders, a mix between defensive and protective. A bite of sourness settled in his chest. He hadn’t seen her react to him like that since she escaped Dema. 

“I didn’t say that,” She responded, keeping her eyes forward as they walked. Thank god the rest of the Banditos were chatting among themselves or attempting to make conversation with Clancy. Torchbearer’s head snapped to her, surprise in his eyes. 

How the hell had she missed out that little detail?”

“What?” His voice was harsh and tense, and had they not been walking back to camp, he would've tugged her to somewhere private to give her an earful. She noticed the way his knuckles whitened around the torch.

Irritation sparked in her chest, her jaw clenching slightly, “We’ll talk about this at home.”

Despite the tension in his shoulders, his heart warmed anytime she referred to camp as home. It didn’t matter what mood he was in, hearing that could make him soften, hard exterior melting slightly. Which became the exact reason he couldn’t fight her.

“You can’t just-” He began, hard words cutting off with a sudden, sharp sigh. “Okay. Fine. We’ll talk at home.”

(Y/N) huffed, glad it was getting dropped even if just temporarily. She was not in the headspace to have this conversation right now. Constantly glancing over her shoulder, waiting to find Nico right behind them.

She hadn’t failed to notice Clancy’s rising anxiety with every step away from Dema. She knew it well. The creeping, crawling feeling of non-existence eyes on her skin, heart hammering so hard she thought it would beat right out of her chest and present itself to her, the inability to sleep because of the overwhelming, all encompassing dear that if she let her guard down for even a second she’d get dragged back to Dema. But also, the sickening feeling of suspicion of everyone around her, watching every little step and movement rhey took. When the banditos had first started joining the group, (Y/N) often found herself awake for days on end, taking every guard shift because she didn’t trust anyone but herself and Torchbearer to watch her as she slept. 

Dema had that effect on people. It isolated, rooted the loneliness of the world into your very core so that you not only stopped reaching out to others inside, but made you want to do it. That’s why it was so easy for the Bishops to preach Vialism, she supposed. If she were completely alone, a life with no meaning and no real connection, why wouldn’t she end it? At least if she died, she’d join the Glorious Gone and her death would mean something. Could become something. 

That’s how she used to think, anyway.

But it was because of that isolation that neither Clancy nor (Y/N) had done much to interact with the other since their initial reunion. Neither of them knew how to interact with someone else from Dema, no matter how long ago it had been since (Y/N) had escaped. 

This was going to be a long trip.

–

Heavy eyes fell on (Y/N) when they reached camp, just before nightfall. Clancy glance around, wanting nothing more than to bolt, anywhere but here, where everyone scanned every bit of his body. He didn’t belong here and their eyes made sure he knew it. Banditos slowed their tasks, hands falling loose as they watched the crowd filter further in, eyes following Clancy as he walked by. Reaching the middle of the camp, (Y/N) turned around. She looked exhausted as she set herself in front of the loyal Banditos that had followed her to Dema and back, risked themselves inside the walls. That was more than she could have ever asked from them. 

“Get some rest. You’re all excused from your duties for two days. Me and Torchbearer will sort out rotations,” (Y/N) called to the group, and the Banditos shared tired, triumphant smiles. Every single person pulled their weight around here, unless elderly or young, with little complaint, but after the long journey to Dema, taking a few days to recover was a luxury they very rarely received. 

“Thank you all. We couldn’t have done it without you. Because of all of you, we made a mark in Dema, and managed to get someone out. Hopefully the first of many,” Torchbearers hand fell on Clancy’s shoulder, who gave an awkward nod, hands wringing where they were folded behind his back. 

The crowd dispersed soon after, parents reunited with children, friends with friends, lovers with lovers. Despite the fatigue that dripped from her bones, (Y/N) always loved coming back from a long trip. Seeing the love in the camp. Nothing could take that away, not even Dema. She was lucky enough that the most important person to her was always on her journeys. She couldn’t, and frankly didn’t want to imagine waiting in anticipation for Torchbearer to get home, not knowing anything of what had happened until he returned. Or until he didn’t.

The Banditos had only lost two people in the last 7 years, but they had weighed heavy. The first was a hunting accident. No one really was to blame for it, but she had been a mother of two children, one of which had been the one to find her. It was one of the worst days they’d ever had. The second was a Bandito who’d been protecting her. Nico had come for her, this instance about four years ago. They’d been unprepared for it. He’d come in the middle of camp, sneaking through and managed to drag her nearly two miles away from camp after using “smearing” to render her helpless. He’d chased after them, no time to wake anyone else, attacking the Bishop and his horse until he pierced his heart. It had given her enough time to sprint back to camp, screaming and shouting to wake everyone up. When they’d gone back to attack, Nico was gone, with the corpse of the Bandito in his wake. 

It was those graves they passed by as Clancy, (Y/N) and Torchbearer walked to the “Headquarters”. In reality it was just a tent that was marginally bigger than the others, with a map inside. Torchbearer and (Y/N) spent many hours here a week, trying to formulate Dema’s layout between their scouting and (Y/N)’s memory along with supply routes, hunting grounds and training areas.  A small cot was set up in the corner, put up after (Y/N) had fallen asleep at the desk more than a few times. Mostly so Torchbearer didn’t have to deal with her whining afterwards of a sore back. 

Clancy stood in the middle, awkwardly rocking on his heels. In Dema, (Y/N) had always thought he looked so cool and collected, compared to the nervous energy everyone else in that awful place carried with them. Out here though, he was lost, and the longer (Y/N) spent surrounded by her people and the smell of home, the more herself she felt. Funny how those things worked out.

Torchbearer pulled his bandana off, shrugging his overcoat off to leave him in a taped shirt. A piece of tape tugged his hair, and he tried to play it off, but (Y/N) couldn’t resist a fond grin as he tried to subtly pull it from his hair. Clancy caught it, glancing between the two with raised eyebrows. Hm. Finally freed from the shackles of yellow tape. Torchbearer leant back on the desk, muscles moving beneath his skin. Despite seeing it countless times before, (Y/N) felt her cheeks warm, looking away momentarily until he started speaking.

“We’re gonna have to set you up here,” Torchbearer stated, Clancy nodding along intently as he gestured to the cot in the corner. “Sorry it’s not more luxurious but we kinda left in a rush yesterday.” 

(Y/N) ducked her head slightly but gave Clancy a reassuring smile when he looked at her unsurely “I’ll be able to set you up with your own tent tomorrow. It’s just for the night,” She offered softly. She knew he wouldn’t get any sleep. But the comfort of his own space would do him some good. 

(Y/N) remembered the first time she’d slept in Trench. It had been the best sleep she’d gotten in her life. The tent was actually dark, unlike the neon lights in the middle of her room in Dema that never turned off. She wasn’t fighting the luminescent brightness that tried to peer its way through her eyelids.

Clancy nodded, a quiet “Thank you,” slipping from his lips, apprehensively taking a seat on the edge of the cot like a scared cat. 

“They should be serving dinner soon, it’ll be out near the campfire,” Torchbearer added, eyes fixed on Clancy with a scary intensity. He didn’t mean anything by it. While he was suspicious of everyone that came into camp when they first joined, (Y/N) could tell that this was him trying to figure Clancy out. The man in question had always been an enigma, something she was sure had grown in the seven years they’d been apart. “You can go out and help yourself. They know you’re here.”

Clancy suddenly looked nervous, leaning forward in an attempt to look out the small gap the tent’s flaps provided, before turning back to (Y/N) and Torchbearer. His mouth opened a few times before he closed it, his teeth grinding as he did so. That was a lot of people to throw at one man who had spent his whole life in a place of isolation.

So with a soft smile, (Y/N) met his eye “Or I can bring you some. You’re probably tired after a long day,” She offered. She knew that wasn’t it, but it saved his pride.

He gave a brief nod, and that was that. 

With a plan finally in place, Torchbearer pushed himself from the table, swiping up his bandana and hoodie with one hand. “If you need anything, (Y/N) and I’s tents are either side of this one. If you’ll excuse us, I think we have some things to talk about.”

Clancy shuffled his feet, nodding again just as Torchbearer began his walk out, catching (Y/N)’s wrist with his free hand as he passed.

He kept a tight grip until they reached his tent, pushing their way inside. He finally let her go when they’d reached the middle, using her wrist to push her in front so he could see her.

“So, when the hell were you going to tell me you had visions?” Torchbearer asked bluntly. The anger that had resonated in his voice earlier on their walk was gone by now, instead loaded with a mixture of hurt and confusion.

(Y/N) sighed, pushing her hair from her face. “Look, I didn’t keep it from you on purpose. I used to get visions all the time in Dema but it was minor things, like me tripping, or accidentally making noise in ceremony, getting breakfast. Until it wasn’t. One morning I woke up knowing how to get out. And once I was out I didn’t get them at all,” she explained, putting her hands out to level the conversation. 

Torchbearer tossed his clothing onto his cot, fixing her with an incredulous look “Just like that?”

“Just like that,” (Y/N) replied. He knew her well enough by now to know when she was lying. She was a terrible liar. Her voice would get high and pitchy, and she’d glance around at an invisible crowd. This wasn’t one of those times. “And you just magically had one after 7 years?” When (Y/N) nodded, a puff of breath escaped him “Do you think this has something to do with Clancy?”

(Y/N) shrugged, a troubled look on her face. Her lip pulled between her teeth, worrying it gently “I don’t know. Maybe? The Bishops used to keep us together. We shared a room, were made to pray together, taken to ceremony together.”

“It seems too big of a coincidence that the first time you’ve had a vision in seven years was something to do with Clancy,” He returned. Not accusatory or harsh. Like the two of them were working together to put puzzle pieces back in their place “Maybe you two are linked?”

(Y/N) let out a quiet laugh at that. The thought was ludicrous. They were barely above strangers despite the years they’d known each other. “That’s an awful lot of maybe. It’s too early to say.”

“What, so we just wait it out? Wait for you to wake me up in a frenzy and rush out the door not knowing what we’re walking into?” Torchbearer threw back, and (Y/N) narrowed her eyes. His voice held no venom, just concern and confusion, but it irritated her all the same.

“You mean like I do for you?” She retorted and Torchbearer quickly stopped in his tracks. He hadn’t thought of it that way. 

Damn.

He shrugged slightly, a chuckle of defeat protruding his chest “I guess so,” he said softly. “I just-”

He took a heavy sigh, stepping closer. His two hands rested on the sides of her face, threading into her hair “We can’t be too careful with Dema. Especially now that we’ve broken Clancy out. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Had (Y/N) not grown used to Torchbearer’s overly personal affection, she may have freaked out. She was close enough to count his freckles, like a constellation over his face. Small white scars lashed his face, two by his eyes, one through his eyebrow and one curving over his upper lip. She’d tended to each and every one when they were fresh. His eyes were warm, a sea she’d willingly drown in all day if he let her. Eyes that felt like home, looking at her like she just put the stars in the sky, with a tint of fear behind it.

(Y/N) had been a mess back then, stuttering words, shaking hands, all from being in the proximity of him. His breath mixed with hers. He’d made fun of her for it later and the nervous, exciting magic of it quickly died.

But, as she found when he started seeking out her touch, the comfort of it never did. 

She pressed her face into his touch, hands latching on his wrists, “I can’t promise that nothing will. But I will promise to be careful.”

Torchbearer sighed, leaning out of her space to set her with a hard stare “You better.”

Clanging and bashing sounded outside the tent, metal on metal. It would be supper soon. Jesus, she didn’t realise how ravenous she was. And how tired. 

She pulled away from him slightly, right as her stomach growled, “I-I should go take that food to Clancy,” her voice was suddenly hushed and quiet, like she was scared to divert the moment. (Y/N) gathered herself, before heading to the tent exit. Torchbearer’s hands suddenly felt incredibly empty, cold, and his room lonely despite her not being out of it yet. 

Peeking her head out of the tent, she met him with a bright smile, eyes bright, if not weary, “We’re so close to something Torch, I can feel it.”

And then she was gone, like a vulture in the wind.

There had been a lot of those around lately.