Spoilers for Guy's backstory. AU, I guess?
four things that never happened to guy
(and one thing that did)
(uno)
He woke up to warm sheets and air that smelled of clean dirt and farm animals rather than the damp salt of the ocean. Somebody was sitting next to the bed, humming a half-familiar tune; the hand combing soothingly through his hair was rough and dry. That's right, he thought vaguely. He wasn't at home now. He couldn't be, because--
"...Mary?" he asked, voice cracking painfully. He licked his lips to wet them.
"I'm sorry, Master Gaillardia."
"Van? Where's my sister? What--"
"I'm sorry," Vandesdelca said again. He knelt down beside the bed and took Guy's hand the way a knight would, a knight's promise.
"You're safe now, Master Gaillardia. I won't let anything happen to you. I swear."
(due)
Even after years as nothing more than a trophy piece, his father's sword is sharp enough to slice his thumb almost to the bone when he fumbles it. It was made to withstand the harsh air of the ocean; it hasn't lost its edge from being parted with its fallen home, and neither will he.
He opens the door as quietly as he can, but over time, Luke's developed something of a sixth sense for his presence. Green eyes blink sleepily at him, half-focusing on his face.
"...thought y'weren't s'posed to c'mere anymore," Luke mumbles.
"Shh," he says. "Go back to sleep."
"'mkay. G'night Guy."
"Goodnight," Guy says, and waits for Luke's breath to even into sleep. This much, he thinks, is the least he can grant.
(tre)
The mask clattered to the floor in a twist of metal, but instead of pressing his advantage, he barely managed to keep his sword from slipping from fingers gone suddenly numb. Behind him, Luke's attack faltered.
"...what the /hell/..."
"What's the matter?" the (replica) asked in his voice, with his laugh, wiping blood away from his face carelessly. "Is something wrong, my lord Gaillardia?"
(quattro)
Luke is really getting much too big to carry now, but Guy picks him up without protest when he reaches up imperiously. Instead of twining his arms behind Guy's neck, however, Luke leans back, almost making him stumble, and stares at him with a child's curious solemnity.
"What's wrong?" Guy says, not flinching when Luke places a hand lightly against his cheek. Luke always feels warm to him, pulse fast and fragile like a bird's.
"Owie?" Luke asks innocently, looking down at fingers that come away red.
"Don't worry." Guy smiles and reaches automatically for his handkerchief. Luke really /is/ a good kid. "It's not mine."
(cinque)
"Hey Luke," he says, as nonchalantly as he can. He's not sure why, but his heart is beating fast in his chest, like what he's about to do is something brave or just something really stupid.
"Mm?"
"Let's make a bet."
Luke's expression is a mixture of boredom and curiosity, without any hint of Guy's trepidation. "A bet?"
"Yeah," he says.
Luke shrugs. "Sure, okay."
"Okay," he echoes. The ache in his chest only gets worse.
(end)