The world always seemed so quiet at sunrise. Not the kind of quiet that (Y/N) had gotten to know over the years. Filled with hushed whispered and cautious footsteps, fuelled by fear and trepidation. No, this wasn’t quiet through fear or intimidation. The morning was quiet, simply because it could be. Not because it had to be. It was the universe’s way of waking up. Perhaps its natural version of crusty eyes, and confused speech. What a gift to sit and watch the world as it arose from slumber, to feel the first rays of light on her face after years of darkness. The only light she’d ever had had been artificial, burning her retinas while she tried to sleep. A heavy breath made its way from her chest, finding company in the air in front of her eyes. Morning dew glistened from the trees, reflecting on the sun in such a way that it looked like the forest was on fire. That same dew soaked the bottom of her pants, sure to make her receive mockery from the children in camp in a few hours. 

This made it all worth it, though. 

Besides, she was glad she could give them something to laugh about. With Dema starting to expand its reach to other areas of Trench, tension laid thick across camp. A large influx of people seeking refuge from capture had appeared within a matter of days, transforming the camp to a small cluster to a bustling community.

“Thought I’d find you out here,” Torchbearer’s voice sounded, fondness dripping from his voice. Turning to look at the man, (Y/N) found him fully dressed, knife clipped to his waist and unlit torch in hand. 

“Not my fault you’re a stalker,” (Y/N) shot back with a smile, shuffling slightly to make room for him. The shift had put her onto a new wet patch of grass, but it meant that Torch got to have at least a portion of dry grass. That alone made the horrible sensation of cold moisture leaking through her pants that bit easier.

Torchbearer scoffed, taking a seat beside her. (Y/N) laughed quietly when he grimaced at the same sensation she’d just had to experience. “Not my fault you sit in the same spot every morning.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, but folded her legs in front of her, leaning on her arms. Silence stretched between them for a few minutes, comfortable and gentle. Soothing. She could already hear the rest of camp beginning to rouse, the faint workings of the kitchen and guard rota already rumbling. Another day, another set of responsibilities.

Neither of them were quite ready to face it yet, 

“How are our supplies looking?” She asked, voice hushed. Torchbearer hummed beside her, setting his torch on the ground, propped between his legs so the rags wouldn’t get wet. 

“Not enough for the people we have,” He sighed. He looked tired, bags heavy under his eyes. He was pale, almost sickly looking and she found herself frowning. She was probably in a similar state. They’d both been running themselves ragged, taking extra guard shifts, hunting, scrambling for tents, cots, clothes. Many nights had been spent in his tent figuring out rotas and rations, sometimes going hungry themselves to spread their thin supplies across the group.

No matter what they did it never seemed enough.

(Y/N) let out a long breath, dropping her head slightly as she looked at him. “I can go hunting today,” she replied.

Torchbearer shook his head, a frustrated furrow in his brow, though not, she felt, at her. “It’s not food, it's housing.”

“Oh?” He nodded at her prying, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“Well, we’re not doing great for food right now either but we’re getting by. There’s a team going hunting along the valley today,"he explained. The valley was always good hunting terrain but it was a two day trip to get there and back. And honestly, with how busy they had been, they couldn’t really afford to spare the hands. Although, it wasn’t like they had much of a choice right now.

“That family that came in last night,” He continued “I managed to bunk them with Josh for the night but we need somewhere for them to stay long term.”

“We can’t expect Josh to give up his space like that. Or for that family to be cramped in that space,” She replied, covering her face while she thought. Torchbearer hummed in response, watching as she quickly moved her hands to the side of her face when she realised she was hidden from the sun's rays.

Torchbearer’s lips pulled into a gentle smirk as she bathed like a sunflower in the morning light, despite the circumstances. 

Josh’s tent was comically small. He’d taken it intentionally a few months back when he’d joined, grateful just to be taken into the rebellion.That was barely enough space for one guy let alone a family of four. 

(Y/N) huffed again, looking up to the blossoming sky, weighing her options. She didn’t need all her space. Her tent was much too big for one person, but Torchbearer had given it to her when they’d split from sharing years ago. She’d appreciated the sentiment then, still did, but it was more room than she’d ever need and the perfect for their family. 

Besides it wouldn’t be forever, just until they could source another tent. She could bunk down in one of the supply tents until then. One less problem for them to worry about.

“They can have my tent. I can just stay in the food or medicine tents until we find something new,” (Y/N) stated with a shrug, meeting Torchbearer’s narrowed eyes. 

“(Y/N), I’m not letting you do that,” His voice was firm, leaving little room for argument, and she raised an eyebrow at him.

“What other option do we have?” She said, challenge in her tone, though no venom. She expected that response. He had an endearingly annoying habit of making sure she was taken care of, even when they had nearly a hundred other people to look after. 

He glanced around, as if something would present itself before turning back to her “I can give up my tent.”

“How is that any different?” She said, a fond smile playing on her lips at his stubbornness. He frowned, looking akin to a petulant child. “Besides, mine’s bigger.”

He scoffed at the teasing tone in her voice, looking away briefly even as he chuckled. He was quiet for a few seconds, dwelling in the silence of consideration. 

“You could come stay with me,” Torchbearer offered, voice low, like he didn’t want to face her potential rejection of his suggestion. When (Y/N) turned to him in surprise, his cheeks were red and eyes fixed to the ground ahead of him. Instead of the apprehensive look he half expected, her smile only widened.

“You sure?” she questioned. But she knew his answer. 

He shrugged, trying his hardest to appear effortless, “We used to share a tent in the early days. It’s not any different,” he paused before suddenly looking at her with moderately widened eyes “Unless you don't want to.”

(Y/N)’s smile stayed and he found himself stuttering over his words, far from the cool, collected, stoic leader of the Banditos. Jesus. 

“I spent two years with your snoring, I think I can do a few more weeks,” she teased, giving him a gentle thud with her hand. He pretended to rub his arm with an overpronounced hissing wince. 

Rolling his eyes, Torchbearer shoved her shoulder with his own, “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Move your stuff at some point,” he said with a fake sternness before rising to his feet.

With his non-torch hand, he offered her help, which she took graciously. She gently wiped the ass of her pants with her hand, before looking at him only to find his eyes boring into hers. 

It was only then that she realised her hand was still in his. But nothing about it was awkward or uncomfortable. It never was with Torchbearer. His palm was warm, and ever so slightly clammy despite the chill in the air. 

His gaze was intense, as it usually was, staring into the very depths of her soul, eyes warm but heavy. Whenever he looked at her like this, (Y/N) found herself unable to break it, not that she wanted to. He’d been doing it more and more as of late. 

Nerves prickled the back of her neck as she kept locked eyes with the man before her, before she took half a step towards him, a small smile pulling at her lips again. Something in his eyes seemed to shift, widening ever so slightly, and ears turning a pretty shade of scarlet and he suddenly stepped back, making a failed attempt of smoothness by redirecting the hand that had been holding hers to his hair. 

“I- uh - they need me on patrol so-,” He stumbled and stuttered, finding himself stumbling more and more as he caught the quiet giggle in her throat and the soft smile on her face. It was like he forgot how to be a person around her recently. 

(Y/N) nodded fondly, waving her wrist at him slightly, “Go keep watch. I have to move my stuff anyway.”

In the few seconds between their conversation and now, he had somehow managed to blank that snippet from memory. She was going to be in his tent, in his cot, surrounded by all her belongings and his. 

It was oddly domestic considering the life they lived.

The thought made him rush off to his job, cheeks burning and chest tight, leaving behind a grinning (Y/N).

—---------------

Clancy stuck out like a sore thumb. While the rest of camp gathered around the fire, laughing and chatting, exchanging pleasantries over the soup that the kitchen team had lovingly crafted from the deer that Josh had hunted earlier that day, Clancy resigned himself to a lonely log. His lips pressed to a thin line when they weren’t open to eat, flickering eyes frantically glancing from person to person. It had taken weeks for him to even come out to eat with everyone else. There’d be a time for (Y/N) to push him to join the others. Today wasn’t that day. 

Regardless, (Y/N), after making her rounds and muttering polite greetings to the rest of her Banditos, found a seat beside the man. He didn’t look at her, didn’t even acknowledge her presence, but he didn’t move away either. As far as (Y/N) was concerned that was a small victory. She brushed a strand of hair out of her face with a huff of annoyance, as it threatened the corners of her mouth as she chewed.

Neither of them exchanged any words, and the silence, while not awkward, was heavy. The silence of two strangers who used to be friends. Although, neither of them could quite say they knew what friends were supposed to look like. (Y/N) knew what a friend should look like now, she’d found that here in Trench, but she didn’t know what that looked like in Clancy. 

A few long minutes passed like this, the pair people watching as they chewed, comfortable in their silent solemness. Torchbearer passed with Tyler on their guard rotation, the duo giving them a wave. (Y/N) waved back with a small grin, and Clancy nodded silently. 

After another few minutes, Clancy turned his head to her, eyes blank and weighted. He could stare into the soul of anyone, just like Torchbearer. It had been one of his unsettling skills since the day they’d met. But unlike Torchbearer, whose knowing gaze filled her with comfort, eased by the ability to be known without explanation, Clancy’s stare was intimidating. Bordering cold, it was like he was staring into the darkest parts of you, scrutinising and harsh. (Y/N) had found years ago that it was impossible to lie to him. 

“How did you get out?” He asked quietly. His voice was hoarse, unfamiliar with its sudden use after days of borderline silence.  (Y/N) grimaced, feeling the scratchiness of his throat in her bones, stabbing a chunk of potato as she shrugged.

“The same way we got you out,” She replied mindlessly, shoveling food into her mouth. Clancy set her with a long stare, tongue tucked into his teeth before nodding.

“You just found it?” His tone was disbelieving but not accusatory. Even still, her shoulders tensed, as if she was getting caught in a lie she didn’t even know she was telling.

“Saw it, in a dream,” She wasn’t used to being this blunt. It had been a long, long time since she’d worried about wasting her breath. Clancy’s eyebrows flicked up quickly, taking in her words. 

He was excruciatingly familiar with her visions, despite the seven years they’d been apart. He’d spent countless nights trying to convince her that she wasn’t going crazy when she folded inwards, fretting over her self-perceived collapsing mind. Clancy supposed it was payback for the nights she spent comforting him after the nights where sleep escaped in place of torment. Permanent reminders of what the Bishops did to him. 

“And you ran?” 

(Y/N) hummed quietly, something guilty and heavy settling in her chest, “I didn’t think, I just saw it and ran.”

Clancy shrugged, seemingly unbothered by the words coming from her mouth, oblivious to the way she avoided his eyes. “I would’ve too.” 

Silence dragged between them. Clancy’s ever exhausted eyes continued to scan the crowd, catching the moments of calm around the campfire. A mother and daughter cuddled up together, sharing some soup; a couple in the middle of a fight, backs turned to each other, a storm upon each of their faces; a girl glancing at her friend whenever she wasn’t looking with a gentle smile on her face, cheeks flushed; Tyler and Torchbearer stood on the camps outskirt, the former with a cheeky, mischievous smile on his face and the latter in the middle of rolling his eyes. Torchbearer shook his head, his face shifting to something disapproving, folding his arms over his chest. His head tilted when Tyler’s eyes were closed mid-laugh to their direction. But instead of watching Clancy with suspicious eyes, Clancy noticed his attention fixed almost entirely on (Y/N), a softness to his face. The escapee glanced at the girl beside him, an eyebrow raised in interest. Hm.

(Y/N) caught Clancy’s gaze in Torchbearer’s direction, unbeknownst to the one her own way, and a soft smile rose to her face. Giving his shoulder a light tap with her own. His head shot back to her as if she’d gunned him down, and she nodded towards Torchbearer and Tyler, her smile never wavering.

“You should go join them,” (Y/N) egged gently. His eyebrows narrowed slightly, eyes wandering back to the pair slowly and then back to her. As if he were scoping the situation out. The thought made his skin crawl, bugs under his skin, and part of him wanted to dash back to his tent. But there was something underlying. Something deep down he knew he had already figured out, but it piqued his interest nonetheless.

Clancy looked between the two again, a slow heavy breath wheezing from his lungs. Well, he had to integrate himself in this group one way or another. This was as good as any.

With another sigh, he shoved his bowl of leftover broth into her hands, ignoring her resigned “hey!”, and slowly made his way over.

(Y/N) watched with cautious, somewhat nervous eyes. She didn’t want to push him too far, but this seemed the perfect opportunity. For some unknown reason, she wanted them to be friends. Or at the very least, share civility. Clancy was a stranger now, despite the ache in her chest at the confession, but he had been her whole world once upon a time. Whether she was willing to accept or realise it or not, there was something special about the idea of her two worlds colliding into one that fueled that spark of hope in her chest. 

Torchbearer let out a sarcastic chuckle as Tyler took another blow, giggling between breaths and leaning on a tent support pole to keep himself upright. He was too tired for this. 

Clancy moved like a ghost. A shadow on borrowed time. Urgent, yet weightless. Silent footsteps, until he wanted you to know he was there. So, it came as no surprise that Tyler jumped when Clancy appeared beside Torchbearer, seemingly out of nowhere. It was the leader’s turn to laugh as Tyler gripped his chest, panting like a dog as he shot the newcomer an ingenuine glare.

Clancy just stared back, eyebrows furrowed slightly before pulling his eyes to Torchbearer. The man was already studying him, brown eyes fixed onto analysing every twitch of his face. While his presence was not unkind, he was intimidating. Perhaps if he hadn't been haunted by the Bishops his whole life, Clancy might even feel uncomfortable by the weight of his gaze. Tyler glanced between the two, watching their silent exchange. Each measuring the other. Great, Torchbearer was bad enough, now there were two of them. 

“You guys done?” Tyler asked, leaning back against the pole with crossed arms and Torchbearer's eyes snapped to him, as if he had forgotten he was there. 

Finally, Torchbearer turned back to Clancy and gave a polite smile. It was practiced and precise, a bit too perfect to be completely genuine, but too lopsided to be entirely fake. One of a leader. “It’s good to see you out, Clancy.”

Clancy’s stare remained on Torchbearer until he turned back. Something in his eyes shifted, an awkward softness that didn’t quite look like it belonged to a man of his hard exterior. He nodded stiffly, “Thanks, again. For bringing me here.”

Torchbearer shrugged, “That was all her, man. Told you that back in Dema.”

Tyler raised an eyebrow, a gentle scoff escaping him, pulling their attention back to him. “So he told you about their two-man vision group, huh?” He made his way over, worming an arm over Torchbearer’s shoulders and patting lightly “You guys against the world, right?”

His shoulders twitched, shifting to unease and irritation, played off in an attempt of playful scowl. Clancy could see the truth behind it. Torchbearer shrugged him off, stepping back slightly “Knock it off. Don’t forget who’s in charge of your shift rotations.”

It was an empty threat, one that Tyler caught onto by the way his lips curved into a mischievous smile “Not you.”

Clancy turned his attention to Torchbearer who, despite his exasperated look at Tyler, caught it with a quick reply, Curious, waiting. “That’s (Y/N)’s area of expertise.”

The escapee hummed, eyebrows  bending together, unease crawling up the back of his neck. Quickly pushed away by a flash of movement in his peripheral, his back straightened. Taut, like a bow about to release an arrow. (Y/N), as if summoned by the grace of her very name, flitted through, passing by with another Bandito. She broke between the group of men with practiced ease, hips evading obstacle with a certain finesse. One that Clancy didn’t miss Torchbearer’s attention dragged to. She passed through simply, without stopping or questioning, minus a soft smile of greeting, only dropping a plate in Torchbearer’s hand without a word, before disappearing with the Bandito. Ritual.

Without a second of question, Torchbearer dug into the stew inside which, when Clancy glanced, only held broth and pieces of beetroot. Once again, the man’s eyebrows turned together, looking at Tyler in query. Tyler was already smirking, eyes set on Torchbearer who seemed lost in the food, like a man starved, before his gaze fluttered to Clancy.

Tyler chuckled, reaching to pat Clancy’s shoulder, seemingly ignoring the flinch it ignited from the man. Whether from oblivion or uncaring, he wasn’t quite sure yet. “She hates beetroot. Them against the world.”