Harley couldn't lie. There was a part of him that didn't fully relax until the door had closed behind Kyler. He felt a little bad about it, but there wasn't much that could be done. After all, the last time he'd seen Kyler, the mechanic had killed him. It took much longer to repair trust than it did to break it.
He sighed and settled back onto the bed, but he couldn't quiet his mind. He'd never expected to see Kyler again, so it would definitely take some time for him to accept the fact that - for better or worse - the mechanic was back in his life.
"What are you thinking about?" asked Prism.
Harley side-eyed her. "Thought you were supposed to be able to read my mind."
"Contrary to your beliefs, I can't hear what you're thinking all of the time. If you direct your thoughts at me, I can. Otherwise, your thoughts are your own."
"Hmm... Well, what isn't there to think about? Kyler's back and apparently didn't betray me after all, I got shot with a Devourer Bullet that the Rifleman just had lying around, Uldren's alive, Cayde's dead, and two of my friends are hell-bent on dragging me back to the Tower on the Vanguard's orders!"
"Well, when you put it that way, it is a bit much… But you did leave something out."
"What."
"Are we going to ignore the fact that you used Solar Light back in the Rifleman's lair?"
Harley frowned. "I figured that was a one-time thing. Heat of the moment and all that. Literally."
"Try harnessing the Light again."
Harley closed his eyes and reached for the Light but encountered a barrier. He tried to find his way around it with no success. Every time he thought he was getting close, the Light slipped away. Finally, he opened his eyes again, letting out the breath he'd been holding.
"I can't do it, Prism... I think it's the Devourer Bullet. I'll have to wait until the wound is fully healed."
Prism's eye narrowed and she swept her beam over him. "That's odd. I can't read your Light."
"What do you mean?"
"Ghosts are usually able to tell what types of Light their Guardians are suited for. Yours was Arc but you also had a high percentage of Solar. Do you remember the aftermath of the Red War?"
Harley nodded, grimacing. When the Traveler had awoken and the Light had returned, the Guardian populations had spent a few weeks suffering from Light sickness. It had different effects depending on which type - or types - of Light a Guardian possessed.
"So you're saying you can't detect my Light like you did back then?"
"No." His Ghost sounded troubled. "It's like something is blocking it."
"Might be the Devourer Bullet. They're supposed to drain Light, aren't they?"
"Yes, that's what they're supposed to do... You could be right. I guess the only thing we can do is wait for it to heal and go from there."
"I don't like this," Harley grumbled, "Being forced to sit here while the Barons get up to who knows what... I hate it."
"I know," said Prism sympathetically, "But until that wound heals, you're going to have to put up with it… Now, I don't know about you, but I'm going to power down for a bit. I was using my Light to speed the healing process while you were unconscious."
Harley traced his hand over the bedspread, thinking about how best to reply. In the end, he decided on a simple, "Thank you."
Prism was silent. He turned his head and saw her lying on the bed next to him, asleep. A small smile crossed his face before he readjusted his position. His Ghost was right. Nothing else could happen until he was healed.
Kyler sighed as he rode across the empty land of the Shore on a Fallen pike, kicking up dust in his wake. Not for the first time, he questioned the wisdom of saving Harley. Guardians never came to the Shore. It was just his luck that when one did, it was the one that hated his guts. Which, he reminded himself, was deserved. After all, their last meeting had been unequivocally awful, and much more so for Harley than for himself. But he knew that the Hunter definitely would have died if Kyler had left him out there, whether from bleeding out, exposure, or the Scorn finding him. And while death was just a speed bump where Guardians were concerned, it was better to be safe than sorry. Kyler had acted on his instincts and, judging by what Prism had said about Devourer Bullets, he had done the right thing. Would she have been able to revive Harley despite the bullet draining his Light? It was possible, but now they wouldn't have to find out.
And strangely enough, in the face of it all, there was a part of him that was stupidly happy. As much as he tried to keep his thoughts realistic, he couldn't help but wonder if this was the universe giving them another chance. Was it possible that Harley could come to forgive him? Could they be together again? Pick up where they left off? It was too much to hope for and Kyler knew it, but he couldn't stop himself.
When he could finally see the cabin, he slowed down, approaching at half his original speed. He parked the pike in a small shed behind it, taking care to lock it up before striding over to the cabin, opening the door. Harley was fast asleep on the bed with Prism next to him. Kyler smiled, glad the Hunter was actually resting. He stepped inside and closed the door. Almost instantly, Harley was on his feet, eyes alert. Kyler raised his hands instinctively, even though he saw Harley wasn't holding a weapon. He pushed his goggles up onto his forehead and lowered his cowl.
"It's just me," he said, keeping his voice light.
The alarm drained out of Harley's posture, but some tension remained. The Hunter winced, a hand going automatically to his side as he sat back down. Prism, having been jostled awake, blinked at them.
"Did you sleep well?" Kyler asked, taking off his coat.
Harley ignored the question. "What time is it?"
Kyler shrugged. "About an hour till sunset, give or take."
"I should go now then. While there's still light."
Kyler frowned. "Go? What do you mean?"
"I can't sit around. Uldren and the Barons need to pay."
Kyler didn't like that and he liked the dark tone of Harley's voice even less. He sounded bitter, hateful. Kyler knew he couldn't stop him from leaving, even if he wanted to. Harley was injured, but he was still a Guardian. And even then, Kyler had no right to keep him there and he knew it. Luckily for him, Prism set things straight.
"You're not going anywhere," she said firmly, "What did we just agree?"
Harley sighed. "I know, but-"
"No. We're not going anywhere until you're well. It shouldn't be that long, Harley. You can manage. Besides, you need the locations of the remaining Barons. Who's to say Bazzle and Kaedro aren't waiting for you to visit the Spider again?"
The Hunter frowned. Clearly, he hadn't thought of that. Harley didn't say anything out loud, but he and Prism were locked in an intense staring contest for several moments. Finally, he dropped his gaze, staring at the wall. Kyler said nothing for a few moments, but when it seemed that neither of them would break the silence, he stepped up.
"I might be able to help you find the other Barons," he said.
Harley's eyes locked onto him and he was briefly lost in their depths. He'd missed the way the Hunter's eyes would dance in amusement, like leaves buffeted by a breeze. Now, though, they seemed darker. Colder.
"What do you mean?" Harley asked.
"I've been living here for a while now. I've made some connections... Some Fallen who might be able to help."
Harley's brow furrowed. "Fallen other than Spider?" Kyler nodded. "What makes you think they'll know where the Barons are hiding out?"
"The Fallen have been living on the Shore longer than most. When the Barons got here, the news traveled quickly."
Harley considered it for a moment before nodding. "Alright," he said grudgingly, "We can talk to your Fallen." He looked at Prism. "Will I be well enough to go tomorrow?"
"I suppose," she said, not sounding pleased, "I'll try healing you some more tonight and again in the morning. No action. We'll meet up with Kyler's contact, get some information, and come back here. You need at least one more day of rest."
Harley sighed. "Fine." He looked at Kyler. "We'll leave in the morning."
That night, they had a small dinner consisting of the food Kyler had bought at the last market. It wasn't as good as City food, but Harley seemed to appreciate not having to eat ration packs. Kyler explained that even with such limited civilization as there was on the Shore, you could still get enough to get by if you knew where to look and had something to trade. After the meal, Kyler made Harley use the bed while he made up a makeshift one on the floor for himself.
As quiet darkness settled over the cabin, Kyler thought back to a time when they would sleep in the same bed. He remembered the night of his birthday, falling asleep with Harley on the couch. How he wished he could go back in time and stop the events that had followed. But you couldn't change the past. Instead, he drifted to sleep with the memories of a better time, when the world was a little less complicated.
The next morning, they rose with the sun. After eating breakfast, Kyler watched as Prism ran a healing beam over Harley. The Hunter prodded at his side.
"It feels better," he said.
"That's good," replied his Ghost, "But don't try anything strenuous."
"I won't."
He put his arms through the sleeves of his undersuit and zipped it up before moving on to his armor. While he did that, Kyler got ready himself, lacing up his boots, shrugging on his overcoat, and grabbing his rifle from beside the door. When both were ready, Harley followed Kyler out to the shed where he retrieved his pike.
"We can take this," he said, "It can carry us both."
"You don't have to do that," said Harley, "I have my Sparrow."
"Oh."
Kyler's spirits fell slightly, which had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he'd been thinking of Harley's arms around his waist as they rode. He mentally berated himself for having the thought in the first place.
"Actually," said Prism, "Your Sparrow is still damaged from when you crashed into the rock."
Harley frowned in confusion. "I crashed into a rock?"
"You did."
"...I can fix it for you later," Kyler offered, "It's the least I can do."
"Thanks," said Harley, "I guess we can take the pike for now."
Kyler nodded, glad that his goggles and cowl kept Harley from seeing the smile on his face. He got onto the pike, powering it up. Harley slid onto the seat behind him. After a brief pause, Kyler felt the Hunter's arms cautiously encircle his waist.
"Ready?" he asked over his shoulder.
"Yep."
He started the pike and they sped off.
Harley was having a hard time sorting out what he was feeling. There were so many mixed emotions bouncing around inside his chest. He still felt wary about Kyler, but he was also grateful to the mechanic for saving his life. He was very conscious of his hold on the mechanic as the pike tore over the Shore's terrain. Hopefully, Kyler wouldn't read into it too much.
Once, there had been something between them. Something that had grown scarily fast. But Kyler had broken that bond when he'd shot Harley that day in River District. Perhaps it could be rebuilt and they could be friends again, but Harley knew himself well enough to know that they could never again be what they were.
"So how do you know this Fallen?" he asked, shouting over the noise of the pike.
"I've done business with him before," Kyler yelled back, "I fix things up in return for Glimmer or trades."
"How long?"
"As soon as I got the cabin, I had to figure out how to make a living out here. Wasn't easy."
They passed the rest of the trip in silence, dismounting the pike in an unfamiliar part of the Shore. As Kyler led Harley into a passageway that descended into the ground, he couldn't help but glance back.
"Are you sure it's safe to leave that there?" he asked.
"'Course," said Kyler, "I know the neighborhood, so to speak... As trustworthy as you can get in a place like the Shore."
When the passageway finally opened up, Harley blinked in surprise. They stood at the entrance of a large club. To the left was a long bar with several patrons sitting at it. The shelves behind it were full of bottles, some familiar, some strange. A four-armed Fallen was bartending.
The middle of the room was left empty, a dance floor. A DJ booth was in the back, but no one was using it at the moment. One corner held a few antiquated gaming tables while the rest of the space was taken up with tables and booths. As Harley scanned the room, he was able to see that although most of the occupants were Fallen, there were also several Awoken. Kyler nudged him and nodded toward a booth at the back.
"That's where he usually meets for business deals."
Harley frowned. Kyler had taken off his cowl and goggles, leaving his face unobscured.
"Why aren't you covering your face?"
"Don't need to. I've been here a few times before. People know me... C'mon."
Harley followed the mechanic as he wove through the room. He didn't show it, but he felt as nervous as a cat. When they reached the booth, Harley saw a Fallen Captain reclining on one side, a drink in one of his hands. His frame was easily twice the size of Harley's, which did nothing to soothe his nerves. The Captain seemed oblivious to their presence, sipping his drink. Harley was almost glad he didn't notice them and was about to suggest that they should leave when Kyler addressed the Fallen.