It had been just over a week since Harley's meeting with the Drifter and he had long since run out of things to do. There were only so many methods of entertainment someone could find in an abandoned house.

He'd looked through the rooms and the various belongings to be found within. Evidence of a whole life was there - a normal life. The kind no Guardian could hope to have.

Especially Guardians named Harley Hayden.

He'd originally entered the rooms while looking for a place to sleep that was more comfortable than the living room couch. But after seeing everything left behind by Kyler and Dalton, he'd decided the couch wasn't so bad after all.

It had been years since Kyler told him, but he still remembered Dalton's name. He wouldn't let himself forget it, not when his own actions directly tied to the man's death. He remembered all of their names. Connor, Sasha, Lucas, Samirah, Fiona, Len. None of them should have died.

There was one room of the house that Harley avoided. It sat on the ground floor, its entrance tucked away beneath the stairs. He thought it might have been an office at some point, not that he'd looked too closely, because the first and only time he'd ventured inside, it was as though his whole body was immersed in icy water.

He had the distinct feeling of something grasping, tugging at snapped threads deep inside of him.

From then on, he'd closed the door and wouldn't go near it, not even after Prism had insisted she detected no kind of residual energy within.

On a different occasion, he'd visited a room on the second floor. The same one Kyler had later told him that the sniper was watching them from when he'd shot Harley. There was nothing in the room to indicate the hitman had been there. Not that Harley'd expected there to be, given the amount of time that had passed since then. He'd looked out into the field behind the house, but the reminders just made him sad.

Aside from exploring the contents of the house, there wasn't much else to occupy him. He spent most of his time on the living room couch, sleeping occasionally. He ate even less frequently. Prism had to keep reminding him.

Apart from his time in Praxic custody, this was the first period after Cayde's death in which Harley slowed down. His goal of killing Uldren and the Barons had motivated him, given him something to focus on. Now it was over and he had nothing. No goal to strive towards. Just him and the guilt.

It pressed on him, weighing him down like iron chains dragging at his limbs, tightening around his chest until he felt like he could barely draw a breath. Cayde was dead. Permanently. There were no second-chances. No do-overs. He was dead and the ones who'd killed him were dead. Well, most of them.

Because Harley counted himself among them. He knew he could have prevented Cayde's death. If he'd gotten there sooner, or if he'd been more insistent about staying with him. Or if he hadn't let Cayde go down to the lowest level alone. He was just as responsible as Uldren and the Barons. More responsible, in fact, since Cayde was just a victim of circumstance to them.

Harley should have tried to warn the Hunter Vanguard about what he'd seen in the Infinite Forest. He should've said something. His silence had cost Cayde his life.

He'd be lying if he said he hadn't thought about letting go. Especially now, when it would be so easy. All he had to do was broadcast his location. He had no Light. His Ghost was restrained. It would be too easy. But he couldn't bear the thought of something happening to Prism.

Maybe if he just started walking. Eventually, he'd either collapse or someone would find him and turn him in, either to the criminals or the Praxic Order. Prism wouldn't be in danger that way.

"What are you thinking about, Harley?" his Ghost asked softly.

He turned his head to see her eye fixed on him from where she lay on a couch cushion.

"Nothing," he lied, "Just wondering how long we'll be stuck here... It feels like it's been forever."

"It does," Prism agreed, "Hopefully either Tristan or Rogue will contact us soon."

Harley felt a little of the tension in his shoulders ease. She seemed to accept his words well enough.

A beep from his interface captured his attention, the display lighting up with a message. And this time, it didn't seem to have come from the Drifter.

PUBLIC KEY 374655

FROM: USER 3132

TO: USER 2112
SUBJECT: INFORMATION

MESSAGE IS:

We are on our way to your location. We have received information from the Drifter that's important for you to hear.

Expect our arrival shortly.

MESSAGE ENDS

There was no personalized tag attached and the message wasn't signed, but Harley knew it had to be Tristan. He felt some relief at the news. Tristan and Rogue were coming. Maybe he'd finally be able to get out of this house.

Though he did wonder what information the Drifter could have given them. Was it about their meeting? Harley didn't think so. The Drifter wasn't the type to share those kinds of discussions with other people, especially people who weren't on his "crew."

Pacified for the moment, Harley settled in to wait.

It wasn't long before Harley became aware of knocking on the front door.

Pushing himself up off of the couch, he crossed the room to open it.

"Make sure you check who it is first!" called Prism.

With a sigh he hoped was audible to his Ghost, Harley peered through one of the windows adjacent to the door. Tristan and Rogue were standing on the front step, looking vaguely uncomfortable.

"It's them," he stated, unlocking the door and opening it.

The Titan and Warlock wasted no time in entering the house, Rogue firmly shutting the door behind them.

The Exo turned to face Harley. He made a show of placing a hand on top of Harley's head and measuring to himself. "Damn, Ace, you got taller."

Harley crossed his arms.

"Just kidding," said Rogue, "You're still short."

"Be nice," Tristan told him before moving his attention to Harley, "We've learned some troubling news…"

"Is there any other kind?" said Harley dryly.

"I wish," replied Rogue.

The Guardians made their way into the living room. While Rogue made himself at home in an armchair, Tristan poked around the room a bit. Harley remained standing. He wondered what news was bad enough that they'd felt the need to visit him in person.

He noticed Tristan staring at him intently.

"What is it?" he asked.

"There's something different about you," said the Warlock, "Have you been sleeping enough?"

"Yes. I feel fine."

Harley fought the urge to make himself smaller so Tristan would stop noticing things. Stupid perceptive Warlocks. This particular Warlock didn't seem like he believed Harley, but thankfully he didn't pursue it.

Instead, he sighed. "I wish we were here with good news," he said, "As it stands, there has been an… unpleasant development."

Harley noted how wound up his friends looked. Whatever news they were about to share, it wasn't something he was going to enjoy hearing.

"What is it?" he asked apprehensively.

Tristan's lips thinned. "According to the Drifter…" distaste laced the Warlock's tone, "The Man with the Golden Gun is after you."

Harley shivered involuntarily. He had heard that title spoken before by the Drifter on several occasions. The Lightbearer had always stressed how the Man with the Golden Gun would come after Harley if he found out the Hunter was consorting with a Weapon of Sorrow.

"I've heard him mentioned before," he told the other two Guardians, "Do either of you know who he is?"

Rogue shrugged helplessly. "No idea, kid. Sounds like it'd be a Hunter, but that doesn't exactly narrow the field much."

Tristan nodded in agreement. "We'll look into it," he said, a frown in his voice.

Harley shook his head. "No, you two have done more than enough already. If this guy's as dangerous as the Drifter says, you shouldn't put yourselves anywhere near his line of fire." He didn't want his friends taking any more big risks on his account.

Tristan and Rogue didn't look like they agreed with him but they didn't say anything about it.

"How did the Drifter find out he was after me?" Harley asked. He knew the Lightbearer had his ways when it came to uncovering information, but he was still curious.

"No idea," said Rogue, "He wouldn't tell us. But look, this guy that's after you… he shot a member of the Praxic Order while tryin' to get info about ya."

Well that was something Harley hadn't expected to hear. He couldn't deny that he was a bit worried now. If the man was willing to shoot a Praxic Warlock, who knew what else he might do?

"I can't stay in the City," said Harley decisively.

Rogue and Tristan shot him incredulous looks.

"The hell are you talking about?" said the Titan, "The City is huge! He'll never find you."

"Besides, where else would you go?" Tristan asked, "You're currently unable to access the Light and your ship is being held at the Tower."

"I can't stay here," Harley repeated, "If I do, more people might get hurt... There has to be somewhere else I can go. The Farm, or someplace."

Rogue and Tristan exchanged a glance, seemingly communicating without words.

"There might be a place…" said Tristan slowly, "Have you heard of Felwinter Peak?"

Harley frowned. The name rang a faint bell. He couldn't remember where he'd heard it before, though. "It sounds familiar."

"It houses the Iron Temple," the Warlock explained, "Rogue told me he went there to help Lord Saladin deal with the SIVA crisis."

That explained it. It also explained why Harley found it difficult to remember. That year had been… challenging to say the least.

"It's still used by Guardians but from what I've heard, it's not as frequented as it was before the Red War."

"Yeah, but how's he gonna get there?' asked Rogue, "His ship's still stuck in the Hangar."

Tristan nodded. "Yes. and flying him out ourselves would draw suspicion given the current state fo the Praxic Order. Not to mention ship logs… we'll have to send a message to one of the others."

"We can ask Kay," said Rogue, "He told me he was hangin' out in the Cosmodrome. He could come pick ace up in the Javelin."

Tristan nodded again. "That could work."

Harley frowned. He didn't want any more of the Chasers getting involved. It would do them no favors. Still, it was either go with Kaedro or wait for the Man with the Golden Gun to track him down in the City and prepare for any collateral damage that might occur.

He sighed. "Kay can pick me up," he said grudgingly.

"It's settled then," said Tristan, "Rogue can contact him. We'll remain here until he arrives."

Harley moved back to the couch to wait as Rogue sent the message.

He picked Prism up. They had come through so much. They had toppled Hive gods. Yet the threat they now faced seemed so much worse, somehow. The Drifter had the right of it. There was nothing safe anymore. No sanctuary. Everyone Harley met was either dangerous or in danger because of him. Maybe leaving the system was the right move after all.

"He's on his way," said Rogue.

Harley nodded absently, wondering how his life had gotten so out of control. He would have stood trial if those assassins hadn't come after him. His hand settled on the grip of the hand cannon the Drifter had given him. He would kill them if they came after Prism again. His Ghost didn't deserve any of this. She'd done nothing wrong. The only reason she was mixed up in it was because she'd had the misfortune of finding him on Mercury.

Everyone would be better off if she hadn't.

"Kay's here," said Rogue abruptly, jolting Harley out of his thoughts.

The Hunter became aware of a dull roar. The glass shivered in the window frames. "He's gonna have Jyn transmat you," Rogue told Harley, "Got everything you need?"

Harley nodded. He had Prism and his armor. He grabbed Cayde's cloak off of the back of the sofa. That was all he needed.

"I'll give him the word." The Titan looked Harley over. "Be careful, Ace. This'll throw whoever's after ya off your trail but they might pick it up again. Tell Saladin hi from me if you see him."

"We'll figure out who was behind this," said Tristan.

"No," said Harley, "It's not worth losing your lives over. They came after a Guardian already. They could do it again."

Tristan didn't look happy about that. "Very well," he said, "We will… refrain for now. But I'm going to talk to Ikora. Hopefully she can do something about this."

"Thank you for all your help."

They nodded.

"Good luck," said Tristan.

"Bye, Ace," said Rogue, "Don't die."

Harley saw the telltale flash as a transmat beam enveloped him. In the space of a blink, he was sitting next to Kaedro in the Javelin.

The Exo shot him a friendly grin. "How's it going, Ace?"

Harley grimaced. "I'm sure Rogue told you."

"He told me some," Kaedro admitted, "Always seems to be out of one fire and into another with you." He snapped his fingers. "That reminds me! I was holding onto this for ya..." He withdrew a hand cannon from his holster.

Harley's heart clenched. It was the Ace of Spades.

The cannon was a bit battered looking, but otherwise seemed perfectly fine. He took it from Kaedro. Its weight felt familiar in his hand.

"Thanks," he said, a bit hoarsely.

He went to holster it but the Drifter's hand cannon was there. Since Prism couldn't store it for him at the moment, he tucked Drifter's cannon into his belt at the back and holstered the Ace.

As he did so, Kaedro busied himself with guiding the ship up and away from the City.

"Right then," said the Exo, "Off we go."

A/N: This week's chapter is a bit on the shorter side but it is what it is. I hope y'all enjoyed it all the same :)