I settle down in the biggest nook I can find in the tall grass, but the cold seeps into my clothes within moments. I curl tighter and toss too and fro, trying to get comfortable enough to actually sleep. God, if only I could just override how I feel externally – my eyes are about to fall out for Pete's sake!

Archer glances at me from the stone he's perched up on. I can hear him sigh, but have to twist around a bit to send him my most wrathful glare. He smiles as we make eye contact, and I shuffle back, face away in rage.

"Not used to sleeping under the stars, I see."

"Sorry, you forget you're in company with normal people. Well, a normal person." I crane my neck around to see Lancer sound asleep in a tree and Berserker on another stone, paging diligently through my brother's journal. We make quite the motley crew, don't we, Takao? I face my hand once again, curling my fingers as I trace the blood vessels that glow indigo. I can't get over how absolutely insane this is.

He actually chuckles, and I sit up. "I didn't realize you have an actual heart, you monster." I find myself watching him in admiration as he smiles up at the cloudy sky. "Evenso, I'm no fool. I know the value of rest in this weary world. It might be difficult, but do try to sleep, you little idiot."

I huff. "Its too cold," I accuse, curling up tighter to press my legs into my chest.

I see him glance sideways as if thinking something over. Finally, he sighs and gets up.

Archer walks over to me as I lay in confusion. I'm a little nervous as to what he'll do next (what, did I actually insult him?) and he grudgingly sits down beside me.

"If being cold is your problem, put these on." He unlatches his sleeves – because how many of us obviously wear sleeves separately from our shirts – and hands them to me without looking. Again, his chin is pointed to the heavens, and I take them wearily. It's a little awkward, but I mumble my thanks and clumsily stuff my arms into the silk.

They are already warm, his magnificent body heat sugar-coating mine in relief. I sit with my back to him, arms across my chest and head down as I nod off ever so slightly. He twists a bit, rustling the grasses beneath us. I don't look at him, but I am curious about something.

"What's with the soft side all of a sudden? Heaven knows you aren't a particularly considerate person."

"You're no use to me dead of frostbite." He responds honestly. "Don't overthink the situation – you're nothing but a fool who got tangled up in something bigger than yourself."

I sneer, a little insulted, but glad he's unchanged. "Wow, thanks for that confidence boost."

"Don't treat honesty as if it's a sin: it's not. Take this too." The red silk of his drapes falls on to my shoulder, the product of his stifling around just now. I take it with less hesitation than before and a louder "thanks", but I can't let it go. "You're just cold-hearted and you know it."

I like this. It's almost like just… talking with Hiro. Its almost like the world isn't falling apart.

"You think I should trust them more," Archer suddenly insists, reading through my intentions.

"Well..." I meant that subconsciously, didn't I? I lean against him, his glorious muscles cushioning me as I fall asleep. "There's no harm in trusting people every now and then. Besides, they're true to their words – I know it's corny, but I see it in their hearts." Archer huffs, a sarcastic laugh to match his dry whit. "You wouldn't trust them either if you truly understood who they are. Heroic Spirits aren't actually heroic by nature, it's just a title. You'd be weary too if you understood the danger you're in, being around them."

I nestle into him, his drapes wrapped snugly around me. He has a point, but… is it my place to ask him? "And what makes you think that I should trust you over them?"
"I never suggested that. I don't care if you trust me or not, I am here to protect you, and that is that."

I could outright accuse him of being one of those 'lesser-heroics' like he just noted, but I'm pretty positive he'd take back his red uniform; but I can't let the subject slide by, my curiosity's got the best of me.

"You're a heroic spirit too," I say softly, almost unable to face the undeniable truth. "That means… you're dead. You died on a battlefield somewhere."

He thinks it over. "That's one way to look at it."

"Were…. were you alone?" His back stiffens before the muscles retract again, his chin dropping to his chest. From my position on the ground, I can see him flexing his fists; never before have I really recognized the massive beauty of his arms – his left arm blocks most of my view. If I try hard enough, I bet I could see some scars.

That feels like I'd be getting to personal with him; scars tell stories, and he's not much of a storyteller. He's supposed to be my anonymous guardian, but there's so much to be said here. I only wish he'd actually talk with me.

Maybe it's my fault; maybe I bring out the worst in him.

"Yes."

It is a simple answer, representing a simple truth.

"How'd you die?" I ask, stifling a yawn. He hesitates again, but replies with the same bitter veracity as always.

"The same way I lived. With no regret."

We might have talked more, but I fell asleep then and there.

.

.

.

That's a bold stance on my part, isn't it? This Archer is after the events of Fate Stay Night Unlimited Blade Works, so I can imagine him reaching a new peace after his battle with his former self.