Take out the stitches

Alright, so I'm fairly new to all this, so I'm not quite sure what to put here... I don't own Destiny. I suppose that'll do...

If you see any mistakes, please let me know. If you liked it, please let me know. I may do a part two. If you have any ideas... Well, why not tell me and I'll consider them. For now, though, I'm just going to do what I want.


The wind whistled through the rusted husks of old cars and rustled the tall, dry grass on the hill. A faint whirring carried on the sharp wind, and an inhuman roar careened over the snowy, rocky landscape.

"Is it possible?" asked a quiet voice, as the whirring grew louder. "There you are." A bright flash of blue obscured all, for just an instant, and a body could be seen silhouetted, dark against the light.

...

Cal's eyes shot open, and he gasped for breath. He hurt all over. His legs and arms felt like they had been split apart, his chest was burning, and his head felt like it had a thousand angry wasps all clamoring to get out. He rolled onto his side and huddled his body into a fetal position.

"Guardian? Eyes up guardian"

"Ugh," he moaned. Who was speaking to him?

"It worked, you're alive! You don't know how long I've been looking for you." The voice spoke in a monotone that sounded strange to Cal's ears.

He propped his arm up beneath him, forcing himself to his hands and knees, only now noticing the rough dirt and snow under him.

"How did I get here?" He grunted. A drum was pounding in his head and he had needles behind his eyes. "I don't remember getting drunk enough for this..." The cold was helping to numb his pain, but he still stumbled as he rose slowly to his feet. As he righted himself, he searched for the speaker his eyes squinting in the bright daylight. Cal didn't remember daylight ever being so bright. "Wh-where are you?" He asked. Then he saw it. A small white thing with a bright blue eye at its center, there was no other way to describe it, was hovering at about eye level and speaking to him.

"What..."

"I'm a Ghost. Well actually, now I'm your Ghost, and you... Well you've been dead a long time, so you're gonna see a lot of things you won't understand."

Cal's head throbbed. Dead? How could he have been dead? After all, he remembered... What did he remember?

Another roar rang out, much closer this time, and the Ghost gave a small start. Cal just stared at the machine floating before him.

"This is fallen territory. We aren't safe here, I have to get you to the city."

The Ghost began to float away and Cal started after it, but then stopped as the ghost said "Hold still," and vanished.

Cal was lost. He didn't know where he was, what he was doing, how he had gotten there, and the only thing that had seemed to have any answers had vanished on the wind. He cast about, vainly searching for a trace of where the machine had gone.

The Ghost's voice gave company to the pounding in his skull. "Don't worry, I'm still with you. We need to move. Fast. We won't survive outside in the open like this. Let's get inside the wall."

"Great. Moving." Cal panted with the exhaustion of simply standing.

Cal hadn't seen the huge rusted wall before, he was so wrapped up in his situation he couldn't begin to think about his surroundings, but with the guiding voice of the ghost, he could finally take it all in. He was standing at the top of a small rise that lead down to a graveyard of old dead cars and a small body of still water, despite all the wind. The wind was something he hadn't fully noticed before, but now that he was standing, he became victim to its full effects. The buffeting forces almost knocked him to the ground, and the cold pierced him to his core causing him to grip his arms tightly to protect himself from the chill.

Cal shivered and stumbled forward. He had hurt something awful before, but never anything quite like this. At first, he needed to rest his weight on the cars, the rust staining the palms of his gloves a reddish brown, Where did the gloves come from? but after a time he felt that he could support himself enough to try standing alone. The first steps were rough and his feet dragged, but after only a short while he found his footing and started forward at a steady, albeit slow, pace.

The wall was bigger than he had at first thought, a few hundred feet high at least, thought it may have been more. Cal was no good with distances. The wall was dark inside, so dark in fact that Cal thought he might fall if the Ghost the ghost hadn't sprung into existence beside him and projected a light for him to see.

The Ghost's voice sounded from his side. "Ok... I need to find you a weapon before the Fallen find us." The Fallen? Who were the Fallen?

Muffled rumblings sounded through the corridor, a sound not dissimilar to the denting of metal. "Quiet," the Ghost whispered. "They're right above us."

Cal grumbled to himself.

He crept onwards, trying to stay silent while venturing further into the murky depth of the ruin, though his shuffling steps could only be quieted so much. Movement caught his eye, a small glimmer of light. Something was inside the walls. Cal shifted uneasily.

"What was that?" He asked in a hushed rasp.

"Fallen," said the Ghost. "Dreg most likely. They do like the walls."

"Great. They're in the walls. Who are they?"

"The Fallen"

"Oh, that helps, that really helps. Y'see, that phrase means a lot to me."

"Hang tight." The Ghost said as they reached a great, dark, atrium. "Fallen thrive in the dark, we won't. We need more light. I'll see what I can do."

"Thrive in the dark? What kind of people are these Fallen anyway?" Cal's voice resonated in the large metal catacomb. His footsteps clanked against the rusted metal grating at his feet

"Another one of these hardened military systems... And a few centuries of entropy working against me."

"Hello? I'm asking questions. They seem important to me, at least."

The Ghost floated out over the abyss and into the metal guts of the decayed facility, taking the light with it.

"Wait... Come back... Don't leave me back here. All alone. In the dark..." Cal trailed off.

Then the lights switched on and Cal could clearly see the inhuman forms swarming over the piping of the wall, and the Ghost being pursued drones the colour of dry blood.

"They're coming for us!" Yelled the Ghost across the now clearly light chasm.

Cal stood there, his dismay no longer an act. A metal gate rattled open to the side and the Ghost called out to him, " Here! I found a rifle! Grab it."

Cal needed no encouragement, he ran through the gate and snatched the battered old rifle up off the ground. He glanced at the pile of bones beside it. "Well. Better me than you, I suppose."

"I hope you know how to use that thing."

"Are you kidding me? You didn't think of that before you revived me?"

"Resurrected. And no, your ability to wield light was much more important at the time than combat expertise."

Cal continued past the crumbled remains of the rifle's last owner and down a long industrial hall. Alien shadows danced at the far end.

"Watch for motion on the tracker," instructed the Ghost, and Cal's eyes snapped up to the corner of his vision as he proceeded down the long hall.

Dripping water was the only sound to be heard in the corridor aside from the scraping of his boots on the rough floor.

"Shit. It's not saying anything." Cal hissed into his helm. "Are you sure this thing works?" His foot splashed into a puddle.

A four-armed figure unfolded from the ceiling and landed neatly on the floor directly in Cal's path. He stumbled backwards, slipping in the puddle at his feet, and tightening his grip as he landed. His gun gave a loud response, emptying its magazine down the hall with two or three shots hitting his target. Then he heard a click, and the creature began to stir.

"What do I do now?" Said Cal in a breathy tone.

It grasped at its side, blood leaking from between its fingers.

"Pull the lever at the gun's side." With a click the gun's magazine popped out. A new mag appeared in Cal's hand and he jammed it into the slot.

The thing began to rise to its feet, trembling with the effort.

Cal pulled the trigger. Nothing.

"What now?" He hissed.

"Pull it again!"

The alien raised its gaze and its gun to Cal with shaky hands, then a click and the sound of a single shot and it fell backwards, dead.

Cal slumped backwards, water soaking into his padded robe.

"Is that it? I won!"

"You won that one."

"Great. Well, next time maybe the thing will work."

"What thing?"

"The tracker thing."

"It tracks movement, not your enemies. It was working."

"Well that really helped me out, didn't it?"

"Get up. You're getting wet."

"Yeah. Wouldn't want to catch a cold."

...

"Oh man. That was way too tough," exclaimed Cal from the pilot's seat.

"Alright. Inputting the tower's coordinates now. We should be there shortly," stated the Ghost from his side.

"Wait? After all that, I don't even get to fly this thing?"

"Can you?"

"… I'll just wait."

"It won't be long. For a centuries old piece of golden age technology, this thing can still move."

"How long exactly?"

"We'll be there any minute."

Cal sat and waited, the thrum of the ship's engine lulling him into a sense of security and relaxation. After all he had done, Cal thought he'd earned it. An image flickered to life on a viewscreen in front of him.

"What's this?" He asked.

"We're arriving."

"Already?"

"Just... watch."

Storm clouds. Rain pelted the sides of the ship and Cal was surprised he hadn't noticed it before. Lightning arced through the sky, splitting and dancing atop the mountains. They hurtled through the maelstrom, the ship careening past the rocky tips of the mountains and through the bulkhead of the storm to find... Serenity. Peace. Cal stared in awe at the presence hovering above the last city. Its sight filled him with boundless hope... but also a deep sadness. The beauty of the form was marred by the long dark gashes and rough, shorn metal stemming from the wound at the base of the sphere.

"What is it?" Gasped Cal.

"That is the Traveller."

"I've never seen anything like it..." He trailed off.

Cal and the ghost waited in silence for a moment, just letting the majesty of the orb sink in. When they arrived, Cal landed almost gracefully.

"Welcome to the last safe City on Earth. The only place the Traveller can still protect."

"It's huge," said Cal, gazing down at the mass of colourful, bloxy buildings.

"It took centuries to build. Now... we're counting every day it stands. And this Tower is where the guardians live."

"They certainly are a colourful bunch."

"Come. We need to get you to the Speaker. He'll want to know a new Guardian has arrived." Said the Ghost, and floated off with Cal not far behind.

"Who's the Speaker?" He asked.

"You'll see soon enough."

"Great. It seems like every time I ask a question you just brush it off. Hello?"

The Ghost floated onwards through a short tunnel to an open paved courtyard. Cal stepped in a puddle.

"Just my luck." He grumbled and trudged forward.

...

Coming back from the speaker, Cal still had no answers. He'd finally gotten to someone wo might be able to explain how he'd gotten into this mess, and all he got was some cryptic nonsense hinting at answers but never delivering anything but more to ask. Still, some of it had been useful, and Cal finally thought he might be able to figure it out amidst the fog of uncertainty.

"I think I finally understand something now. So, the Traveller was found on mars and then we brought it back to Earth and used its technology to usher in this Golden Age? It's just my luck to have completely missed that."

"Well, that's basically right, but you are leaving out some major details. You've completely left out the colonisations and the collapse and-"

Cal cut in "Well I was getting to it..." But trailed off. "Hey. I think I know that person."

"What? How could you possibly-" but the Ghost was cut short again as Cal pushed his way past a couple civilians and headed straight for a guardian in deep blue armour. They had a long dark cloak wrapped around their shoulders and a helmet cradled under their arm. They laughed with what appeared to Cal to be some sort of higher up in red and white with a strange headdress.

"Lucy? Hey! Lucy Noble!" Exclaimed Cal, removing his helmet as he approached.

The Guardian turned her head. "I'm sorry, who are you?" Blonde locks framed her face.

"It's me, Calder! Calder Evertson? Don't you remember me? We went to school together! I remember... I remember this one time, I filled your locker with frogs, and when you opened it up, they all spilled out and started hopping everywhere, and you screamed so hard I thought my eardrums might burst, then you turned around and slapped me so hard I couldn't walk straight for a week. I think I ruined your gym shoes, so I guess I deserved it. God, it's good to see a familiar face around here."

"Calder? Is that really you?" Said the guardian, blushing. "I'm sorry, I didn't know it was you... you just look so... different." She stammered.

"Oh yeah. I got a haircut. You know how I used to wear it long. I guess I thought it might make me look more mature, but..."

"That's... great," she said, looking away.

"What's wrong? You don't like It, do you. No, I don't blame you. It never really suited me that well."

"Don't like it? No, it's not that..." She trailed off.

"What is it then? Come on tell me?" Said Cal with a short chuckle.

"You really don't know. Do you?" She asked. Pity was in her eyes.

"Know what?" Asked Cal, hesitating.

Abruptly, she reached forward and pulled off his glove. His hand reflected a shiny crimson in the sunlight. He recoiled from its sight.

"What-" he muttered, breathlessly. He turned and stumbled away. Distantly, he was aware of his name being called. His hand. What was wrong with his hand? He tripped over a loose cobble, and fell to his hands and knees before the puddle. He gazed down into it, and piercing, bright green eyes stared back up at him, unblinking.

He stared at the reflection for a while, not moving. Not thinking. He reached up and touched his face, and felt metal fingers scrape against it. He shook for a moment. Then he grasped the plate under the bright green eye and began to pull. He had to be under there. He was not expecting pain, but it was there all the same as he continued to tear the metal. The plate began to separate, but all that was behind was dark machinery. A jagged, mock-mouth grinned up at him, unmoving.

"What happened to me..." Moaned Cal, lowering his hands from his face and looking around.

The Ghost floated to the side, silent.

"What happened to me!" He yelled.

"There was nothing of you left. Only the light. I couldn't recreate your physical form from nothing, so, I pulled from the surroundings. Spinmetal, minerals, the rust on the cars... Anything."

Cal looked to Lucy. She stood to the side, the hood of her cloak raised, clutching it about her.

"What about her?" He asked. "She's here. She's the same."

"I donated my body to science during the golden age. When my ghost found my light, it was with my remains, which were preserved in a Golden Age vault," she replied.

Cal didn't know what to do. He stayed kneeling, staring ahead. His mind was drifting.

"I need a drink," he muttered.

"I don't think you can drink anymore," said Lucy.

The courtyard was silent for a long time.

Cal broke the silence. "I need to kill something," he spoke and rose to his feet.

"Steady there Calder," said Lucy. "You aren't looking too good."

Cal stared at her, his searing green eyes burning into her cool blue.

"I didn't mean it that way. I just... I think you should-"

"I don't ever want to see you again," he said, his voice drained of emotion.

"… Calder-"

"LEAVE!" He screamed. Birds took flight from nearby roosts. Silence fell yet again. She turned and strode quickly towards the Speaker's tower, her cloak billowing behind her, her footsteps clacking loudly on the paving stones.

A robotic voice chimed in. "That was-"

"You," Cal hissed. "You made me this way. If I were not bound to you, I would destroy you for what you've done to me."

A wind whistled through the yard. Calder turned and strode away towards the main atrium.

"Where are you going?" Whispered the Ghost as it trailed after him. Calder said not a word.


So. What'd you think? I hope you liked it. I certainly enjoyed getting it out into the open. I had this really good Idea that I wanted to write about, y'know? It's just... Something about losing all the comforts of the flesh seemed so ripe for a character. Honestly, if I lost the ability to eat, sleep, drink, have sex, piss, any of it, I'd go mad. So, I really wanted to get to that in this part, in case I don't do any more. But, I really felt like I had to ground him, make you understand him, if even a little, so that when he makes the realization that he's no longer human, you can empathize with him. The only problem is that if people don't read to the end, my fic is just another "This is my guardian" story.