On the eleventh day of Destiny 2,
My true love gave to me;
Eleven things to come back to!
"Don't go!" He begged. He latched on to the Hunter's cloak desperately. The frayed fabric was deceptively strong; after all, it, like the Hunter that wore it, went through quite a lot in short periods of time, and needed to last.
But there was no way for the Guardian to last this time; not this fight, not this way, not today... not without his Light, his Ghost. Toby and the other children were too smart, too smart after what had happened, after loosing their parents and everything else, to think everything would be alright if he didn't have his Ghost.
"I have to." the Guardian turned, leaning down to halt Toby and pulled his cloak away from his grip. The child's breath came in short, quick gasped, and tears ran hot down his face. The rest, the only other ten kids that were safe at the Farm, stood behind him, looking up at Marcus Ren with hope and terror alike.
Maybe it had been a bad idea to get close to them. Maybe it had been a bad idea to try to take just a little bit of the sorrow out of their lives, to give them someone they knew they could go to, someone that could try to rekindle their innocence. There was no way he could replace the father of any of these children, he'd thought to himself, but he could give them something; a distraction, a laugh, a tiny ray of hope, a tiny taste of the normality that the Red Legion had snatched away.
"But you won't come back!" Toby sobbed, throwing his arms around the Hunter. It was soon that Marcus found he couldn't move, the other children all crowded around him. He had to give them credit; it was a good way to pen someone in. Quite the emotional blow, as well. One arm around a young Awoken girl who clung to his side, he rested his chin on the boy's forehead, stroking his hair.
"I'll come back." He whispered, he himself now trying to fight back the burning sensation in his eyes. He meant it, too. This wasn't exactly something, a role, a position he'd ever thought he'd find himself in... but it was something. Something to come back to. "I'll come back. I promise."
It didn't help I was listening to Cats Stevens' "Father and Son" while I wrote this.
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