Author's Note: Well, this is it… for anyone still reading. Again.

It was five weeks after he had been in her bunker Rindel sent Duncan the message. He'd been in the Tower, altogether a rarity ever since he'd allowed himself to be convinced he was so close to finding Bailey as he'd been on Mars. He'd been queued not far from Lord Shaxx, waiting with Ash and Amri.

This day was special.

It was the day Ash was being named a Gunslinger. Finally, permanently. She was being rewarded for her hard work and careful practice. And at the end of it all, she'd be assigned her Fireteam.

"Is it time?"

"Cayde won' begrudge you fer showin' up early, little Hunter," Duncan teased, ruffling her hair so a few strands fell forward out of the braid at her back and into her face. He looked through the shadows at his charge before smiling at the way she tossed her hair out of her eyes.

From his right, Amri placed a reassuring hand on his girlfriend's shoulder but agreed, "Go on, then. We'll be right here."

The tall young woman bit back a smile of her own as she worked her fingers in line with the Exo's to squeeze his hand. Nodding, she leaned her forehead against his and whispered, "Wish me luck, Amri."

"You don't need luck, Ash," the Warlock chuckled. "The hard part is over, and today we celebrate your accomplishments."

Duncan turned around to notice Eris Morn was looking at him with a curious sort of intensity. When she seemed to realize he'd noticed she was staring, the dark ex-Guardian straightened her shoulders and sneered. Or maybe she had smiled; it was hard to tell the difference.

Raising an eyebrow, Duncan descended the steps until he was standing in front of her. He waited for her to acknowledge him, watching the way the dim glow of her stolen eyes dimmed for a brief moment like she needed to squint to be sure who he was.

Eris remained silent as Ash brushed past her mentor on her way to the Vanguard. As her steps faded, the woman in front of Duncan shifted her weight and glared into her orb with such an anger the Hunter wondered if it might shatter for the sheer strength of her will.

"Good morning, Ms. Morn," Amri's voice cut through the silence. He'd wandered over to stand next to Duncan.

Eris ignored the Warlock, instead leaning forward and peering up at the Hunter until she was so close their faces were almost touching. The right corner of her mouth turned upwards towards a smile; she seemed pleased he hadn't recoiled to move away from her. Her voice was low but once he'd heard it, Duncan could think of nothing aside from the taunting tone which danced underneath her words, "You won't save her with that, Hunter."

He looked at his waist where she seemed to be pointing at the hand cannon on his belt; The Last Word. He hadn't needed for the slight woman recoiling from his Light to detail of whom she spoke. It was little mystery to any Guardian of the Tower that Duncan Baird was draining every last resource available to him in his desperate effort to find Bailey Greene.

Teasing, almost taunting, Eris smiled, "That gun would extinguish what remains of her Light."

"What, you would offer your unsolicited advice now?" Amri demanded as he took a step closer to the erratic ex-Guardian. His hand was clenched to a fist at his side and Duncan could sense the rage radiating from him. Almost growling, the Warlock hissed, "You were silent as a shadow when I inquired eight weeks ago. What's changed?"

"You brought him with you this time," she muttered, almost to herself, as she shrugged a shoulder in Duncan's direction.

The Hunter pressed his hand to the Exo's chest, holding his friend in place. The entire time, his eyes never left Eris' small frame. He held back a shudder when he recognized the look of triumph she passed to the Warlock for what it was. He couldn't begin to guess what game she was playing at but he hadn't seen Amri lose his temper so fast with anyone. When the Exo turned away, Duncan lowered his hand.

Keeping his tone even, the Hunter asked, "Do you know of another way I can help her?"

"Help her?" Eris pondered, returning her gaze to the orb in her hand. She wavered, uneasy in her stance, until a low laugh rumbled forward from her chest. In an instant, she stopped laughing and was nearly up against him once more, whispering, "Why do you think she's in trouble, Guardian?"

"Amri!" Ash's voice echoed off the stone walls, magnifying her excitement as the sound of her boots in his ear indicated she had hurried up the stairs. There was the slightest trace of concern in her tone when she inquired, "Duncan?"

Turning around, the older Hunter offered Ash a small smile. He watched the way Amri lifted her feet off of the ground, spinning her in a circle before he pulled her close enough she could wrap her arms around his neck.

"It's you!" she laughed. "You're my Fireteam."

"That's wonderful, Ash!" Amri replied.

"You and Duncan."

"Wha' abou' Kellin?" Duncan wondered, scratching the back of his head before crossing his arms over his chest.

"Yes," Ash smiled up at her mentor. He was only taller than she was because he was standing on the landing and she was still one step below. Smoothing her cape over her shoulder where it had become ruffled for Amri's excitement, the dark-haired young woman added, "And Reyka; when she's cleared for field work."

Following after Ash as she led Amri up the stairs towards the Plaza by his sleeve, Duncan ran a hand through his hair. He thought of Bailey and the empty place still left on their Fireteam for the Guardian who would make six. He felt his resolve grow stronger; if she was still out there, they had a place for her, still, with all of them.

"It's your Light or hers, Guardian," Eris called out after the trio as they ascended the stairs. Duncan hesitated, looking back at her for a brief moment. Eris smiled, an eerie, painful expression because it looked so foreign on her sharp features. Her voice was low, "The Thorn shall have what it wants, Duncan. But the question remains; what will you choose to do about it?"

"She knows more than she's telling us, mate," Amri shook his head. He and Ash had slowed their pace at the top of the stairs to allow for the Hunter to catch up.

Before Duncan could respond, Kellin's voice cut across the Plaza, "Hey! We didn't miss 'little Hunter's' graduation, did we?"

Dark brown eyes fell on the pair of Awoken who, for the moment, rounded out his Fireteam. Smirking, the Hunter replied, "'Fraid so. Little Hunter wen' and graduated. Gotta star' callin' her Ash now."

"She's got herself a Fireteam, too," Amri added, gentle in the way he pressed his girlfriend forward so she was standing in front of Kellin and Reyka.

"Oh, I'm so sorry we missed it, dear," Reyka frowned. But she opened her arms for Ash and the human Hunter fell into her embrace with a smile. "I guess we walked too slow."

"Babe, you don't walk anywhere," Kellin grumbled, already starting to step away from her. Duncan noticed a glimmer in the Awoken's eyes which indicated he knew Reyka wasn't going to like what he said next. The Titan smirked, "You've been waddling for weeks."

"Would you like me to?" Ash asked, pulling away from her former mentor, mindful of the swollen expanse of her midsection.

"Indeed," Reyka glared, placing her hands on her hips as her piercing blue eyes followed Kellin's retreating frame.

Ash managed to catch the Titan in two strides. Squeezing his ear, she led the whining man back to where Reyka was standing. Duncan laughed at the way his friend cringed, but the Hunter and the Warlock made no effort to lend a hand.

"You're a jerk!" Reyka pouted, managing to find a nerve when she poked her Titan's shoulder.

"Ouch!" Kellin pouted, rubbing his arm. When Reyka smiled, however, he smiled back, kissing her forehead, "I still need that arm to finish buildin' the crib."

Before Duncan could reply, Albert hovered to life out of his armor to say, "You've received a message, Guardian."

"It'll have to wai'," Duncan said, his brown eyes following after Kellin and Reyka who were leading the way, albeit slowly, towards Ash's favorite bar. He smiled when Ash looked over at him, and he finished, "We've got some celebratin' to do."

"I think you ought to reconsider," Albert tried again. When Duncan faltered in his stride to get a better look at his Ghost, the bright silver box added, "It's from Rindel."

Duncan felt his heartbeat quicken as his brown eyes shot to the direction his friends were headed before returning to his Ghost. When again his eyes traveled to the retreating figures of his friends, Amri nodded his head at the Hunter and added as reassurance, "We'll wait for you at the top of the stairs, mate. Take your time."

Nodding, feeling his like his mouth had gone dry, the Guardian ran a shaky hand through his hair and turned around like not looking at his Fireteam would amount to some sort of privacy. He nodded at his Ghost, not trusting his voice. Duncan straightened his shoulders nonetheless, holding his palm towards the sky to indicate he was ready to listen.

Albert hovered over his Guardian's palm as he began to explain, "Rindel said Bailey told him he would know the right time to send it to you."

The Hunter nodded, not sure if he was even breathing. A thousand thoughts were racing through his mind at once; if she was alright, what had happened to her in the time she'd been away, where she'd been…

"Duncan."

His heart stopped when he heard her voice.

Despite everything he'd felt in the loneliness she'd left him, her voice was such a welcome comfort he couldn't stop his hands from trembling. So he crossed his arms over his chest and shifted in a practiced but uneasy manner from left foot to the right.

He couldn't quite bring himself to feel angry or hurt. He was made anxious by being faced with the uncertainty surrounding her message, and that she wasn't there in front of him left a void in his chest which hurt far more than he'd ever imagined any emotion might feel. Closing his eyes, he drew a slow breath, preparing himself for whatever it was that might follow.

The goodbye he'd never received.

The news he was only getting a message now, after all the time that had passed, because her Light had finally gone out. That there was nothing he could do to save her.

"Duncan," and he tried to believe he could hear her smile. "I hope you know I'm sorry. I-in case not, I am. I'm sorry for so many things. Leaving alone, though, most of all."

"Bailey," he whispered, shaking his head, clenching his right hand to a fist and bringing it to rest over his heart. He was too afraid to open his eyes and lose forever the image of her he'd kept safe in his mind. Blue robes and platinum hair, sparkling grey eyes he knew could stop him where he stood. His desire to have her there with him almost made her tangible. But she was light years away…

"You told me once; it's not how we make the mistakes, but how we correct them that matters."

Duncan grit his teeth, trying to remind himself to breathe. He remembered the day. The pair of them climbing weak limestone for higher ground. Watching the comings and goings of squads of Fallen spreading out through the rolling hills. He'd been talking about a sniper rifle for Traveler's sake! He'd been teaching her how to mark her targets. Not trying to impart some sort of sage advice.

He listened as her voice continued, "I hope you'll understand how utterly I regret finding that hand cannon. I feel ashamed…"

And here her voice faltered as Duncan let his hand fall away from his heart. He could hear the fear in her voice; the fear he knew she'd kept hidden away from Amri the morning she left. How long ago had it been now? Five months? Six?

She'd been afraid, he realized. She hadn't been sure about her decision to leave and, even worse, he hadn't been there to stop her. He felt guilty, angry, and confused. He cursed fate she'd slipped away before he'd realized it. Duncan was overcome with the terrible, repressive feeling of helplessness which washed over him like the pain just before stasis.

He wished, then, for the first time he could take her place. That he could have carried the weight of her burden; that it would have been he who had fallen victim to the dark sorcery of the cursed hand cannon. He would trade his life for hers, certainly.

"I'm ashamed I've shown my worst side to the best thing to ever happened to me," and her choked sob snapped him out of his thoughts, spurred his heart back to life when it had stilled in his chest.

He listened to her soft sigh and remembered what it had felt like to be the one who could cause her to make such noises. He heard the wooden chair she had at her desk creak and opened his eyes. His heart sank when he realized she'd recorded this message before she'd left the Tower. This message wasn't the assurance he'd hoped in secret for.

Her words were crushing as they continued, "If Rindel has sent you this message, well, I suppose it means I've failed."

His palms were sweating as he bit his cheek. It couldn't be… Bailey wasn't gone.

Running a hand through his hair, Duncan looked at Albert and held his breath. His Ghost bobbed in the air, reminiscent of shrugged shoulders.

Duncan felt even worse still when he heard her voice continue, "I-if you're not Duncan… well… If you've found Rindel, my Ghost, then it must mean I really did fail. I hope that-I hope you'll find Duncan. Duncan Baird. He's a Hunter. My Hunter."

"Tha's enough, Albert," Duncan turned around, away from his Ghost. Bailey's voice continued on the recording but he tuned it out, pretending he wasn't affected by all of the different emotions he could still make out. Taking several quick but deliberate steps towards the railing at the edge of the plaza, he gripped the cold metal until his knuckles turned white; not that he could have noticed for the thick gloves over his hands.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying hard to find and settle on just one emotion. It was too much to try to process them all at once.

"There are coordinates," his Ghost said, hovering beside his right shoulder. When the cool blue light he always used to comfort his Guardian seemed to have no effect in settling the wash of emotions surging through the Hunter's eyes, Albert hovered to tap the man's shoulder. His voice was soft, as the Ghost made no effort to hide his own sadness, "In case you'd like to bring her home."

His throat was dry, his chest felt like it was collapsing in on itself… Nothing in the entire universe felt right as Duncan processed his Ghost's words. In case he wanted to bring her home… Then he was too late. He'd lost her forever.

"Alright, mate?" Amri asked, keeping his voice soft as he wandered forward to stand at the Hunter's left. He placed a heavy hand on his friend's shoulder.

Duncan opened his eyes to take in the sunset over the Last City. The place he'd hoped in secret to make their lives together. He felt numb; this place wasn't something beautiful. Not anymore. Not without her. Amri's hand fell away, and Duncan hardly noticed. Tapping his knuckles against the railing, he shook his head 'no' but affirmed, "In a way, I sp'ose it is."

"Duncan?" Ash asked, leaning over onto the rail on both of her forearms. When he looked over and met her amber eyes, he saw the worry there, of course. But he could tell she already knew. Her intuition had always surprised him. She could read the emotions in him before he'd come to recognize them in himself.

"I guess she's gone," he affirmed, closing his eyes and shaking his head. It had hurt to say it, those words. Like a confession, an admission of every way he'd ever failed the most wonderful woman he'd ever known. Duncan couldn't feel anything until Ash wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pressed her cheek to his.

"I'm sorry, Duncan," she whispered. When she looked up at him, there were tears in her eyes.

Ash could cry for a woman she'd hardly known and Duncan couldn't allow himself to feel anything? Hell, maybe they all knew he wouldn't be able to grieve her until he'd brought her back to the Tower. Maybe none of them could… none who had known her well, anyway.

Amri remained silent, perhaps sulking in whatever guilt he felt for having been the last one to see her before she'd gone. But Duncan was so overwhelmed with the terrible sense of loss, like he was missing an entire part of himself, he couldn't be angry.

He couldn't be anything.

He sighed, patting Ash's shoulder as he pulled away. Running a hand through his hair, he shook his head again, muttering, "I have to go. There are coordinates."

He hoped they would understand. Duncan wasn't sure if he could explain.

Watching Amri as the recognition flashed through his silver eyes, the Exo replied, "We'll come with you. She's a part of our Fireteam, too."

Duncan nodded, thinking of Reyka and Kellin sitting in the bar waiting for them all. He tried to ignore how difficult it was going to be to tell the Awoken Hunter, in particular, what terrible truth he'd just been made to know.

She and the Warlock had been together since the beginning for both of them. The entire time she'd been gone, Reyka had been talking about her plans to make Bailey her baby's godmother. Duncan had wanted, more than anything, to keep his promise and bring Bailey home. This life they had, the good parts and the bad, well, it had been theirs. The entire Fireteam's. They'd made it together. Fought for it, bled for it… and now they all had lost her from it.

This grief wasn't his alone.

"Don' tell Reyka," he whispered. "No' ye'. We can figure ou' the bes' way to tell her. There's no need to upse' her."

Ash nodded, gripping Duncan's forearm and leading him towards the Hangar. She didn't say anything as she worked her hand into Amri's and gave it a gentle squeeze.

She watched him with a careful eye in the reflection of the cockpit's front window. He was seated behind her, across from Amri, with his left hand wrapped around a Warlock's bond, resting in his lap. He held his chin in his right hand; hung his elbow on the armrest beside him.

He kept his eyes lowered.

Ash had assumed for a rather long while he was inspecting Bailey's bond; a solid cuff of silver which would have glowed purple, like Void Light, if she'd had it on. It had taken the young Hunter the entirety of the first half of their journey to realize her mentor was concentrating all of his energy just to hold himself together.

His grief was almost tangible as he held it all inside. Ash could feel it pressing between them all like a wall, flowing to fill the cockpit like a rolling blanket of smoke. He'd been silent the entire way around Venus, and there was nothing at all she could think to say that might comfort him.

Of course it hurt her heart to see him so upset. Even when he'd been at his lowest points through the difficult endeavor of finding his Warlock, Duncan had never been quite so deflated. He'd held out hope, she supposed, until the last of it had been stolen away. Out of respect for her mentor, she remained silent.

Looking across the cockpit to where Amri sat beside her, Ash drew a deep breath when she saw him looking back at her. Pressing her palm against the top of his forearm, she felt a little more like some of the weight against her chest had been lifted. Watching her mentor lose the most important woman in his life had done wonders for deepening her perspective of what it meant to love and to lose in this new life she'd been awoken to.

But it had also reminded her nothing was permanent… Not even a Guardian's Light. Each moment she had in this life was a gift; she wouldn't take them, those moments, for granted.

"We're approaching the coordinates," the familiar tones of Amri's voice snapped the young Hunter out of her reverie. A few strands of her dark brown hair had escaped from her braid, and she quickly made to tuck them behind her ear.

Catching his reflection in the window to her right, Ash watched Duncan lean forward towards the space in between herself and Amri. He didn't say anything as Ash turned around to look at him. He was pale and his eyes had lost their shine. It struck her, looking at him, she couldn't remember a time when this man hadn't smiled. He'd always led her forward with a careful sort of nonchalance that was as practiced as it was natural.

She hadn't expected there might be another side to him.

"How long?" Ash wondered to Amri.

"Five, maybe ten minutes before I can put us on the ground," the Exo replied. "Is that enough time?"

Duncan stood up and turned towards the exit of the cockpit. He was reaching for his helmet before he replied, "Yeah, seems righ' to me."

When he'd left, Ash gripped Amri's wrist and pressed her fingertips against the wires that wound beneath his frame like veins. Her voice was a low whisper, desperate despite herself, "Oh Amri, what will we do for him?"

Shaking his head, turning her hand over so he could run his fingertips over her palm, Amri shrugged, "Nothing we can do, I'm afraid. Just give him some space, maybe time. I don't think it's really sunk in for him yet what we're out here to do."

Feeling himself rematerialize after transmat always left a lingering sense of dizziness to pull at the Hunter's equilibrium. This time, however, he was thankful to be feeling something physical. It made him realize the way his emotions had been manifesting over the past several hours weren't the reality.

Duncan pressed his fingertips against the place where his helmet met his neck and exhaled. As he inspected the barren landscape laid out before him, the Hunter squinted past the sunlight fading out against the horizon. He couldn't keep the smirk from washing over his features. It had been here all those weeks ago he'd suspected he'd found her; he was standing not far from the abandoned bunker he'd hidden within from a sandstorm.

He'd gotten here too late…

"Any sign of Rindel?" Duncan asked as his Ghost hovered forward from his dark grey chest plate.

"Inside," Albert replied. He hadn't been able to keep the sadness from washing through his tone.

Nodding, the Hunter turned to look over his shoulder to study the familiar figures of Ash and Amri. The Exo waved, an indication they would wait for him at the jumpship. Duncan pulled a hand cannon, The Last Word, off of his waist and started forward towards the entrance of the bunker.

The space was small, and he'd been inside before. It hadn't taken long for him to clear the room. He was surprised to find it empty, but the faintest glimmer of hope burned in his chest because she wasn't there. Quiet and hesitant, he asked, "Rindel?"

"Oh, Guardian!" a Ghost cased in bright crimson hovered forward from a corner behind him. Shining bright blue light on the new addition and his Ghost, Rindel added, "Thank goodness you're here."

"Where's Bailey?" Duncan demanded, lowering his gun towards the place it belonged on his belt.

"Don't put that away!" Rindel panicked, rushing forward to nudge the Guardian's arm in an attempt to stop him from securing the gun away. "She's out, for now."

"She's alive?" Albert asked, hovering into space beside Rindel but keeping his light focused on the other Ghost.

"Of course!" Rindel replied; it was evident he was exasperated by the question. "What's left of her that hasn't been poisoned by that gun, anyway."

Albert and Rindel continued speaking but Duncan couldn't hear anything for the sound of his heart pounding against his chest. He reached forward to steady himself against the desk, quite certain he wouldn't have known the difference between flying or falling in that moment. Bailey was alive. She was alright. And he'd just found her Ghost…

"Where is she?" Duncan asked again.

"Well, a-away," Rindel hesitated, hovering away from the Guardian and his Ghost. He seemed to be trying to hide in the shadows but Albert kept a light on him so Duncan could track his motion. Making a coughing sound like he was clearing his throat, Rindel added, "We had a disagreement yesterday evening. I haven't seen her since."

Duncan remained silent, putting together the information he had. Bailey wasn't dead and from the way Rindel had made it sound, things related to Thorn had only gotten worse. Albert, on the other hand, was full of questions for Bailey's Ghost.

"A disagreement? You left your Guardian? What kind of companion are you? What if something happens to her?"

"Al, tha's enough," Duncan scolded, holding his left hand out in the space between himself and Rindel. The Hunter watched Bailey's Ghost hover forward until he stopped above the man's palm. In a quiet voice, he asked, "What happened, Rindel?"

"She wasn't herself," the Ghost lowered his eye. "She kept whispering things to that gun, things in a language I couldn't understand. I asked her to stop but s-she told me to leave. Before she pried the Light out of my frame. I-I had leave. I could tell she was serious!"

"And where were ya when she said tha'?" Duncan wondered.

"Another bunker a few kilometers from here," Rindel replied. His spirits seemed to have lifted, however, since Duncan had intervened with Albert and started asking questions of his own. "She's kept it up as her primary residence since you found this one."

Taking a deep breath, Duncan said, "Take me there."

"B-but Guardian!"

"We'll see this is all made righ', Rindel," the Hunter assured, pushing his gun into the holster at his waist. His palms had grown sweaty within his gloves, and his heart was pounding.

Bailey was alive… It was all he could concentrate on as he led the way out of the dark bunker and into the Martian sun.

"You're sure you want to go alone?" Amri asked with an unmistakable note of skepticism in his voice. Not more than ten minutes ago, his best friend couldn't see straight for the grief he felt when faced with the prospect of having lost Bailey. Now he wanted to wander off and face her alone?

There was no sure way to know what she was capable of after all the time she'd been alone out here. She'd scared off her Ghost, threatened to pry the Light from his shell with her bare hands, and Duncan thought she'd feel any differently about seeing him?

"That sounds like a terrible idea," Amri continued, not yet ready to spare Duncan the lecture.

"Well, I don' think i's tha' bad," the Hunter protested, crossing his arms over his chest and looking to Ash. "Wha' do you think?"

"We should go together," Ash replied after a few moments of thought. Her cape, a brilliant shade of amethyst, caught the wind and flickered behind her. Nodding her head, she pressed on, "It would better that way."

"Who would guard the ship?" Duncan protested, pointing at the pristine jumpship painted orange and blue behind the Exo.

Amri shook his head and turned to look back at the ship. He'd won it off of Kellin a few weeks before in the Crucible, and it was the newest ship he'd ever owned. Tapping the place on his helmet above his temple, Amri decided, "I'll stay with the ship. You two go together for Bailey."

Satisfied with the compromise, Duncan agreed, "Le's go, little Hunter."

He was already halfway down the ridge before he heard the sound of Ash's boots on the ground. She grumbled, "I thought we decided it was Ash after I graduated!"

"Old habi's die hard," the older Hunter replied, smirking to himself when he recognized the young woman was surprised by his hearing. Albert had done a good job on his most recent attempt to readjust things.

"This way, Guardian," Rindel urged. The way he hovered forward ahead of the two Hunters was the only indication Duncan needed to read he was anxious. And the Hunter didn't blame him. Ghosts were not meant to be separated from their Guardians. "The bunker is a few kilometers ahead."

"Should we use our speeders?" Ash wondered.

"Don' wanna le' her know we're comin', do we?" Duncan questioned.

Aware so much of his good humor was back now that his hopes of finding her were restored, Ash rolled her eyes and challenged, "I still remember what happened the last time you snuck up on her."

Duncan ignored the comment and pressed forward after Rindel. He took long strides to keep up with the crimson Ghost, keeping his eyes enough ahead of him to watch the ridge line. He didn't want to be deterred from his purpose by a squadron of Cabal, but he felt confident it would be little trouble to manage if he saw them coming.

It had taken about a half an hour to reach the bunker Bailey had adopted in lieu of the one he'd already uncovered. It was situated in between what might have once been a river valley, tucked almost invisibly into the cliff side on his left. Crouching low to survey the immediate area, Duncan saw no sign of the Warlock, but there were clues she'd been there. A few crates of unspent ammo were stacked just outside the doorway and the fire pit where she cooked her meals was still smoking from whatever she'd made at mid-day.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Ash asked. "Go get her, Cassanova."

"Shh," Duncan whispered, watching a familiar frame wander out into the sunlight from within the bunker. He ducked a little lower behind the ridge and pulled Ash down with him. "You wai' here. Give me some cover bu', whatever you do, don' hur' her."

Ash nodded.

And Duncan stood up to make his way down to her.

She'd noticed him right away. Ash could hear the recognition in the Warlock's tone as she asked, "Duncan?"

Snapping a full magazine of ammo into her scout rifle, Ash chanced a nervous glance down after her mentor. She could hear the relief in his voice when he affirmed, "Yeah, Bailey. I's me."

"How did you find me?" she wondered, moving forward until she fell forward into the Hunter's arms. Duncan returned the embrace, letting his helmet fall against hers.

"Guardian! You're alright," Rindel hovered forward to celebrate.

"Of course," Bailey said with a shaky tone. She had pulled far enough away from Duncan to look over at her Ghost. Behind her visor, however, it was impossible to know what her expression read. Her left hand pressed into his shoulder for a brief moment before she staggered backwards. She touched her helmet above where her temple would have been, stammering, "Y-you shouldn't be here."

"We're here to take you home," Rindel replied, his tone bordering on exasperation. He hovered forward, between where the Hunter stood in front of the Warlock, and froze when her shoulders twitched. His voice was shaky as he finished, "Back to the Tower."

Laughter poured from the young woman's throat, high-pitched and eerie, but Duncan wasn't sure he could let himself believe it was her. Bailey didn't sound so… terrifying.

"That place is not my home."

Ash, who had watched the event unfold from behind the scope of her scout rifle, aimed. But by the time she had the Warlock lined up for what would be a non-fatal shot, the other woman had already drawn her weapon.

Duncan captured her wrist in his hand, effective in stifling her ability to aim. The gun misfired over his shoulder, and Ash thought to wonder if his hearing would suffer for how close she'd been when she'd fired at him. Or Rindel… Whomever she'd been trying to hit.

Hesitating with her finger over the trigger, Ash waited for the moment she could find a clear shot. Watching with wide eyes as her mentor wrangled the young woman against the cliff wall and held both of her wrists pinned at her sides, Ash gasped when she heard the sound of Bailey's gun fire.

It missed Duncan again but this time by a smaller margin. The bullet landed in the ground by his feet. A mysterious green haze emanated from the hole it left.

Frowning, Ash fired a warning shot into the cliff, letting the bullet hit above the Warlock's helmet. Both Bailey and Duncan froze in their struggle.

"What's this?" the Warlock wondered, freeing her hand to press it into the center of Duncan's chest to push him away. Her focus had shifted to the ridge line. The Warlock chuckled, "She seems a little young, don't ya think?"

Rage boiled underneath Ash's skin. Just what did this Warlock think she was suggesting? Amri was her boyfriend, not Duncan! Watching the way the Hunter let Bailey pull her wrist away from his grasp, Ash widened her eyes when his hand shifted to the gun at his waist, The Last Word.

"You leave her ou' of this, Bailey," the Hunter's tone was hard, with an unmistakable edge of displeasure laced underneath. He pressed his forearm against her collarbone, pinning her against the wall.

"You're the one who brought her," Bailey reminded, pressing the barrel of her gun against Duncan's temple. She'd moved so fast Ash hadn't been able to find a mark. Duncan's wrist was in her left hand; his gun pointed harmlessly at the ground. Ash could hear Bailey's voice in Duncan's comms; a voice almost unrecognizable and low as the words mingled with the slow roll of an eerie laugh, "Boom."

Without hesitation, Ash fired. She aimed for the back of Warlock's shoulder. But as she pulled the trigger, the small ravine filled with a thick, dark smoke. The young Hunter couldn't see anything, she couldn't think straight, but panic was an emotion greater than fear in that moment. She raced forward into the smoke, "Duncan? Duncan!"

He was sitting on the ground when the smoke cleared; holding his left shoulder, looking down at the hand cannon he'd drawn against the woman he loved like he might have been ashamed of himself. Ash stopped where she stood when he started to speak.

"Always did have a bi' of a jealous streak, tha' one," Duncan laughed darkly, turning the gun over to inspect it.

"You've been shot," Ash noted, pointing at his shoulder. Then the guilt sunk in. There was no sign of poison, which meant it had been she who had shot Duncan. "I'm sorry I missed."

Nodding, Duncan lifted the gun a few inches as though testing the weight like he wanted to find the weapon's balance. His tone was unreadable when he looked up at Ash and said, "Hold on to this, would ya?"

"Duncan?"

"I won' be needin' it," he explained, standing up. Dusting himself off, he nodded like he had accepted his decision. He held the gun out to his protege.

Ash's mind raced for the hidden motive in his actions. She understood, in no uncertain terms, what lengths Amri had gone to to obtain that gun. She was aware of why Duncan needed it. And, worse yet, she knew he knew it, as well.

So why was he handing it over? Unless… Unless he didn't intend to save Bailey from herself at all.

She didn't take the gun.

"Then how will you-"

"I been thinkin'," the Hunter replied.

"About?" Ash demanded, feeling her heart start to race. What effect had seeing her again had on the man? He wasn't thinking straight. Maybe Amri…

"Abou' a lot of things," he continued. "Her Ligh' and mine."

"You can't go without the gun," the young woman protested. "She could kill you!"

"I have a feelin' she doesn' wan' to shoo' me, either," he tossed the gun to her, and she had no choice but to catch it.

"Duncan!" Ash tried to protest, reaching out to him.

Holding his hand out to push her away, the pair stood in silence. Both of their capes caught in the wind. Duncan clenched his hand to a fist when Ash came to a stop. And he shook it a few times at his side, nodding.

"I've accepted my path," he said. And Ash could hear the smile on his voice. "I'm gonna try to save her. If I can' do it, jus' look after each other. You and Amri. And look after her, too. Bes' you can in either case."

Pushing the gun into the holster at her waist, she drew a shaky breath as she gazed up at her mentor. Ash knew she would do what he asked. But she didn't feel right just letting him walk away, so she called out after him an affirmation, "As best I can. I promise."

"Until nex' time, little Hunter."

"Until next time," she waved. But he never turned around.

It hadn't taken him long to find her again. But, he supposed, she'd probably wanted that he find her. Keeping his hands at his sides where she could see them, he greeted her, "Hi, Bailey."

His footsteps were slow as he descended into the lowered depression where she waited. A lone breeze caught the edge of his dark black cape and swept it away and to his left. His eyes were on the ground for a moment longer than they should have been but when he noticed a flicker of motion from the lone figure she made for, standing alone in the center of the ravine, his dark brown eyes were locked on her with a wariness that shamed him.

He had to make a conscious effort of reminding himself she wasn't what he remembered.

"You took your time," an eerie voice he didn't recognize replied. High and wispy and not at all how he remembered her sounding. She hadn't been gone so long he'd forgotten the way her voice sounded, had she? No, most certainly not. This woman standing in front of him was not Bailey.

Not entirely.

He stopped a few meters away from the dark figure, hand poised over the holster at his waist where Eyasluna waited for her summons.

"Where's your girlfriend?"

Duncan couldn't keep the smirk from crossing his features. He'd heard the faintest trace of Bailey's voice there, behind the taunt whatever was standing in front of him had tried to throw in his direction. It was enough to lure him into feeling hopeful, despite everything else indicating, perhaps, he shouldn't be.

Chuckling, he wondered, "You mean Amri's girlfriend?"

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other but remained otherwise motionless.

"She lef' to go ge' him," Duncan replied. He felt the breeze tugging at his cape again. He could feel Bailey's eyes were following him and he lowered his gaze to the ground between them, deciding to let down his guard and trust she was going to listen to what he had to say. It wasn't that different, the blind trust, than it had been nearly two years earlier when he'd chanced she wouldn't shoot him the first time he'd found her in the Crucible. In a quiet tone, he began confessing, "He's missed ya. We all have; Amri, Kellin, and me."

He looked up at her, studying the way she stood. Duncan couldn't read her expression for the dark visor of her helmet but he wanted to believe there was something different, now, about the way she was holding herself. Like his words had reached her… however far away from him she was.

"Gotta admi'," he continued. "No' havin' ya around has been hard on us. Me, mos'ly. I've missed you, Bailey."

His brown eyes were set on the dark figure she made for, cloaked in the tatters of what remained of the handsome dark-blue and crimson robes he'd always known her to wear. Most of the lower portion of the mantle had been torn away, leaving visible dark leather boots stained in Martian clay.

As the breeze swept through the ravine again, the folds of her robe whispered in the breeze, and he noticed the way she brought both of her hands over her heart. Her shoulders hitched like she might have been switching in and out of herself and Duncan felt his hand travel to hover over the gun at his waist on instinct. Just in case…

Bailey drew her gun but didn't point it at Duncan. He watched her shoulders hunch forward, and she whispered something to the gun he couldn't make out for the sound of his cloak whipping against the back of his calves. When she looked up at him again, there was the faintest glimmer of green glowing back at him from behind the dark shade of her visor.

Feeling the chills race up his spine, Duncan willed his shoulders to remain still. If he was at all unnerved by the way she'd looked, talking to that gun, he couldn't let her know it.

"That hand cannon," the eerie voice echoed through the small space in between them. The shadow of Bailey made fast her action of pointing for the gun at his waist and Duncan tried to pretend he hadn't noticed she'd made the motion with her gun. "She left it for you."

Drawing the hand cannon off of his belt in a slow manner, so she could see where his hands were, the Hunter spun it with practiced skill around his hand. Forwards and backward, reacquainting himself with the feeling of it in his hand.

"It seems you did finally figure it out," she continued, a passive sort of nonchalance on her tone. Then, for possibly every reason or no reason at all, she clarified, "She counted on that; the other Warlock finding the other gun and you realizing it wasn't your answer."

As Duncan held the dark hand cannon out in front of himself, he was reminded of the recognizable weight, like an old friend. He and Eyasluna had been through a lot together. She was still as familiar to him as the last day he'd held her many years before; a comfort despite what remained so uncertain about his current situation.

Despite the riddles Bailey's curse was speaking through, the Hunter thought he was beginning to understand.

He looked across the ravine at the woman he still wasn't sure was the Guardian he'd fallen in love with or something more sinister born of the Darkness. With confidence in his tone he wasn't sure he honestly felt, Duncan demanded, "Wha' have you done with Bailey?"

"I've consumed her Light," the eerie voice replied.

"Not entirely!" Rindel hovered forward from behind Duncan's shoulder. His tone didn't hide the anger and resentment he felt for whatever it was in control of his Guardian. Then, to the Duncan, he encouraged, "Don't listen to her, Hunter. My Guardian's Light has not gone out!"

"Not yet," the lone figure at the western horizon chuckled.

Duncan felt his shoulders tense as he allowed for the familiar weight of Eyasluna to fall into place at his palm. Thorn was already pointed in Rindel's direction before the Hunter could react. But the Ghost wasted no time before hovering back to the perceived safety behind Duncan's cape.

Keeping Eyasluna pointed at the ground, the Hunter placed his left palm alongside his thigh to feel for his field knife. He was satisfied, now, the other form he was standing off against was not Bailey, not right now, anyway. Though he couldn't be sure of the details, there was something sinister suppressing her Light.

Albert hovered forward, taking his place directly beside Duncan's left shoulder, to retort, "You're bluffing. She's still there fighting you, whatever you call yourself. And you won't have her. Not while her Ghost is still alive."

That comment made her mad…

In a flash, Duncan sprang into action. She'd adjusted the angle of her gun and fired a single shot at Albert. The Hunter understood, now, both of their Ghosts were going to be a target for this dark shadow possessing Bailey. Thorn wouldn't have a Guardian, either Bailey or Duncan, while their Ghosts still held onto the Traveler's Light.

Duncan's field knife was soaring through the air before he'd even registered he'd thrown it at all. In the space between the two figures, a spark flashed in the open air. The Hunter's field knife had intercepted the Warlock's bullet. He'd had to close his eyes for the bright flash of energy resulting from the collision, but when he opened them, he recognized the shadow was afraid of him now…

Or at least she had become wary of the power of his Light.

He felt hope, then.

It was all he could feel; the prevailing, overpowering emotion that flowed through his veins. Bailey was still alive; for as long as he could keep her Ghost safe, for as long as she could suffer resisting whatever it was who wished to grab hold of her. And if the shadow, whom he presumed still maintained a fragile semblance of control over the Guardian inside, had been trying to hide her hand from him, well… she'd exposed everything by firing on the pair of Ghosts.

Trying to work out the details in his mind while, at the same time, maintaining a healthy concentration on exactly where it was the dark figure chose to point her gun, Duncan took a deep breath. If Thorn couldn't have Bailey until her Ghost's Light was extinguished… then, it must have meant Bailey been the one to send Rindel away.

She was still fighting. It was enough a thread of hope to cling to and believe he could save her yet.

And that this shadow had fired at Albert?

Duncan felt his chest constrict like the very breath had been forced out of his lungs. Would it have mattered to Thorn at all, as powerful as she had become, whether she held Bailey or Duncan? The pressure in his chest was replaced with a familiar heat. Solar Light. Suddenly, Eris Morn's cryptic warning flashed through his subconscious, and the rest of the puzzle started to piece itself together at an alarming rate.

The means of her control mattered little if the end was the same… Thorn would have a Guardian. Either Guardian. Realizing he might have his chance to shoulder the weight of Bailey's burden for himself, the Hunter straightened his shoulders and stood at his full height.

He understood.

Duncan tightened his grip on Eyasluna, muttering to himself, "Her Ligh' or mine."

"What was that Guardian?" the shadow asked; amusement was the emotion she had settled on to replace her anger. At least for the moment.

The Hunter didn't reply.

He closed his eyes, feeling the warmth from his chest spread slow but sure through his limbs; traveling through his bloodstream like oxygen to his lungs. He hadn't been so acutely aware of his Light, so confident of his ability to manipulate it to suit his will since he'd first tried to activate his Golden Gun. It had been more than a decade.

And it didn't take long for him to weigh his options and make up his mind. Thousands of images of her flashed through his mind like the sparks which might have fallen away from his Golden Gun, were he to activate it.

Bailey, smiling as Kellin hoisted her up onto his shoulders after an unbeaten run through the Crucible during an Iron Banner tournament. The way she would scold the Titan, nearly twice her size, for picking on Reyka.

He thought of Amri sliding under her speeder bike to lie next to her as they worked together through the necessary repairs to mend the damage she'd done, racing the other Warlock through the Forgotten Shores of Venus. The way the Exo would carry her books back from their trips together to the archives.

Duncan blinked twice, thinking of Reyka and the way Bailey's best friend had never given up hope she'd be found and returned to the Tower. The way the Awoken woman spoke of the Warlock like she was away for a little while; like she'd be back just in time to meet her godchild.

The fire building in his chest only intensified when Duncan thought of them, her and himself; the couple they'd made for when they were together.

The way she'd made a game of hiding from him in the vast aisles of books making up the archives; laughing at the way he'd dart back and forth between the aisles in an attempt to catch her.

The way she'd let him fall asleep with his head down on the table next to her books when she was working.

The way she'd wrap her fingers around the collar of his shirt as she'd fall asleep each night.

The color of her eyes; grey and not green.

The sound of her voice and the way her hands could light his skin on fire.

He thought of the secrets they'd whispered to each other under a sky lit by a thousand stars… and he knew, then, there had only ever been one answer to his choice.

She would be alright without him.

He'd felt lost since the day she'd left. An empty, hollow shell of a man. A waste of the Traveler's Light. He'd forgotten whatever it was which had given him purpose before he'd known her. Maybe he'd never had it and had only been made aware when she's gone away.

Duncan had seen what a life without her might look like. He'd seen it. And he'd lived it for the past six months.

She would be alright without him.

But he could never live without her.

"Nothing to say?" she taunted, the high-pitched and eerie sound of the voice that did not belong to her echoing between them.

"No' to you," he said.

"She's been waiting for you, Hunter," the shadow taunted, cocking her head to the right and then to the left. He could make out the dull glow of green from behind her visor but, this time, Duncan didn't feel chills. The fire of his Light was burning too strong for there to be any room left for doubt. He smirked when her voice continued, "There were times I thought you'd given up. Even after you found my bunker."

"I'm here because she didn' give up," he replied, so sure he had chosen the right path there was no room left for hesitation.

When she faltered again, her shoulders hitched and the dull green behind her visor faded. She fell forward like the wind had been knocked out of her lungs; the Hunter took a deep breath. His heart soared when he heard the familiar tone of the Warlock's voice ask, "Duncan?"

"Yeah, i's me," he answered. "I'm here."

He could see the green glow brighten from behind her visor as he watched the shadow raise Thorn to point it at him. Her voice was cruel when she retorted, "She's not here."

"I'm no' here for you," Duncan sighed, exasperation building up right alongside the power of his Light. He'd been close, so close, to drawing Bailey out. He'd wanted to talk to her once more, before he went through with… well, whatever it was he was about to do. Looking behind the gun and into the visor of the shadow, he reminded, "I'm here for Bailey Greene. A Warlock from the Tower. She's a Sunsinger, mos'ly. A Voidwalker when she wan's to be-"

"There's no one here by that name!" the angry, rage-filled shriek echoed through the empty ravine.

"I believe you're wrong," Duncan challenged, concentrating on pouring all the power of his Light into the gun he held. He felt the fire burst from within, coursing through his veins, down to each of his nerve endings.

"Then you'll be sorely disappointed," she seemed to brighten as she'd uttered the words.

Watching the way she brought the gun to level with the center of his chest, Duncan felt his hand move of its own accord. Reflex guided by the selfless power of the decision he'd made; the purpose he'd derived to give over all of himself, his Light included, to keep her safe.

He felt his emotions melding with the Solar Light coursing through his body; anger he hadn't gotten to speak with her one last time, sorrow he'd never again see her smile or hear her laugh. All of the emotions he'd buried for the months she'd been gone… all the deepest secrets of his heart were coming to focus until he was overcome with the sudden sense of calm.

He felt his finger close on the trigger of his first love, Eyasluna, and felt the immediate emptiness that followed the bullet from the chamber.

Duncan closed his eyes, accepting all of it; his decision, the loss of his Light to save his true love… He smiled, exhaling a slow breath.

The bullet was engulfed in a violent flash of light which sparked from the center of the ravine and blotted out all hope the two figures who had just crested the ridge might have had for watching the conclusion of the firefight.

Ash blinked open her eyes, willing them to readjust to the dimness of the setting Martian sun. She'd had to look away from the brilliant flash of light, but as her amber eyes came back into focus, she felt her heart rise to her throat. In the ravine, she saw the motionless forms of both Duncan and Bailey, both of whom were still glowing with the powerful traces of Duncan's Solar Light.

Struggling to take her next breath for the sheer sense of dread she felt by looking at them; the younger Hunter started to scramble forward. Amri's hand on her shoulder stopped her; when she looked up at him, he was shaking his head.

"Guardian?" Albert hovered forward.

Ash watched Rindel, covered in a bright crimson shell, hover past Duncan and Albert to be nearer to Bailey. And when he got close enough, the Warlock stirred from where she'd fallen on the ground. Rising to rest on her right elbow, the young woman shook her head as though waking up from a deep sleep. Ash watched her tense when she noticed Duncan lying motionless at the bottom of the ravine.

"Duncan?" she wondered, crawling forward the few meters separating them. He didn't move to respond, and when she seemed to realize he wasn't waking up, the panic entered her tone, "Duncan! Wake up!"

She had her hands on both of his arms, giving his motionless frame a few shakes to try to wake him up. The Hunter couldn't help but notice they both looked so splendid, shining together under the final traces of the Martian sun. When, again, he didn't move, Ash looked away to where the melted frame of Thorn, Bailey's curse, was lying on top of an ebony pile of ash that twisted and curled into an eerie pattern of Hive markings behind her.

Already, a single rose had bloomed forth from a small circle of red clay preserved from the ash.

"Oh, Duncan," Bailey mumbled between sobs, knocking her helmet away from her head and then gently removing his so she could admire his handsome features. The faint hiss of their oxygen could be heard whispering up from the center of the ravine, but it did little to hide the sorrow from her voice. She was cradling his limp figure in her arms like he was the most delicate and precious thing she'd ever known in all her life. Her voice was a soft murmuring of barely audible thoughts, "What have I done? It wasn't supposed to be your end. It was supposed to be mine."

Ash felt numb as the heavy weight of her sorrow finally came to rest over her heart. Turning to Amri, who held his arms open for her, she let herself fall forward into the familiar comforts of his embrace. Earlier, she could imagine Duncan's grief. Now, she wasn't sure if she would ever forget it.

In the distance, she could make out the quiet confusion of Albert, asking the Warlock, "Y-you didn't fire?"

"No," she cried. "Of course not."

"Then he aimed for your gun?" the Ghost wondered. But Bailey never replied.

When Amri pulled away, and Ash looked back down into the ravine, she wasn't sure if her mind was playing tricks on her because it was what her heart would have wanted or if what she saw was real. She thought she noticed Duncan's hand move through the clay towards his gun. It wasn't until she watched his hand clench around the frame of something entirely unfamiliar she remembered to breathe; it was not Eyasluna but a new gun.

"The First Curse," Amri muttered beside her.

And almost like his voice had spurred the other Warlock into action, Ash felt her eyes widen when Bailey pulled away to look down at Duncan. The young Hunter was certain, then, everything was going to turn out alright when she heard the sound that escaped the Warlock's lips, something caught between a sob and a laugh, as she sighed, "Duncan?"

"Don' cry, Bailey," the older Hunter sighed, wrapping his left arm around her waist. When the force of her returning his embrace knocked both of them back onto the ground, Ash laughed softly and closed her eyes. The sound of Duncan's voice brought the smile to her lips as he soothed, "I didn' mean to make you cry."

"You're alright," Bailey whispered, running her fingers through the Hunter's hair before she pressed her lips to his temple. Her hands worked across the expanse of his chest, as though seeing him with her own eyes wasn't enough to believe he was there. Her lips whispered over his, "I thought I'd lost-."

"Don' say it, Bailey," he almost laughed, letting her support his head as she pulled away to look down at him. He pushed the new gun into her right hand, adding, "I'm alrigh'. You're alrigh'. Tha's all tha' matters."

"What's this?" she asked, letting his head rest in her lap before she took the gun from him. Looking it over carefully, she seemed to be assessing the weight of it to find its point of balance. As the Warlock turned it over in her hands, Duncan seemed to recognize his gun wasn't so familiar to him anymore.

"Yours," he sighed, seeming not to care about finding the explanation for whatever it was that had changed about Eyasluna. Closing his eyes, the Hunter pressed his face into the coarse material of the Warlock's robe and wrapped both of his arms around her waist.

Ash smiled, trying to hold back happy tears as she admired the way the top portion of the hand cannon gleamed against the sunset or maybe it was from the last traces of Duncan's Solar Light which was just now fading away from the figures of the Hunter and the Warlock. The bottom portion of the hand cannon was ebony; as black as midnight or the eerie patterns that had formed, forgotten, on the ground beneath them.

"Well, it's certainly not yours," Bailey agreed with a defiant sort of edge to her tone like she was teasing the Hunter. The smile on her face was brilliant as she pushed the new hand cannon into its place at her waist. Warily eyeing the ruined frame of Thorn lying a short distance behind her, she kicked it a few inches further away with the toe of her boot. When it seemed to pose no threat, her gaze settled back on the Hunter still resting his head in her lap. Her grey eyes gleamed mischievously as she added, "Not after the way you destroyed my gun!"

"Yeah," he smirked, reaching up to brush a few of her silvery bangs out of her pale grey eyes. "I s'pose tha's only fa-"

But however he might have ended the statement was lost when she pressed her lips against his. When his arms found their way around her shoulders to pull her body down into line with his, Ash politely turned away to look at the gun secured to her hip.

Even from as far away as she had been from Duncan and Bailey, Ash could tell how similar this new gun of Bailey's looked to The Last Word. Feeling for Duncan's hand cannon on her waist, she smiled.

She'd be giving her mentor back his gun as soon as he unwrapped himself from the Warlock who currently occupied his attention. Maybe he'd be ready to have it back by the time they reached the Tower… but she wouldn't begrudge him if it took a little longer than that. He'd been separated from Bailey for almost as long as it had taken her to become a Gunslinger.

Besides, she smiled as Amri worked his hand into hers, Ash fancied herself more of a scout rifle sort of girl, anyway.