Hello again, lovely people!
This chapter is a bit longer than the rest, and I believe I'll be splitting it into multiple posts on tumblr, so if you prefer smaller chunks of the story, you can just head over there! I know longer chapters aren't some people's cup of tea, and if you take breaks its much easier to get lost.
I really hope you enjoy this part though! I know I had a lot of fun writing it.
!Fair warning! "You" have a pretty brief anxiety attack in this chapter, and I completely based that off of how I experience attacks. If you're not comfortable, just skip it, it just shows the flip side of the whole "in darksiders" thing. And please keep in mind, everyone experiences anxiety attacks differently and the comforting method listed will not help everyone!
Also mentions of burning, similar to the last chapter. Damn Charred Council have a fixation with... Well, char.
And yes, I'll more than likely put a warning on every 'iffy' chapter. Rest assured I've got your back.
The next week passes by lazily, with Strife keeping you company. He's... Quite the character, in your opinion. You've met several Watchers too, none of which you believe are the Watcher, whom you usually refer to as Shadow.
They all seem pretty nice too, if not impatient and extremely critical. Strife nearly shot one yesterday, but you managed to stop him from doing so. His scowl nearly had you running back to your bedroom though. He can be pretty terrifying.
However, he can also be very sweet, especially when you wake from a nightmare screaming bloody murder. The realization that you are in fact in Darksiders is... Amazing on the one hand, and absolutely terrifying on the other. You're just... You, after all. A 'weak but cunning' human.
And the now horribly realistic demons you saw topside and your knowledge of the future won't allow you a good night's sleep. Strife is always up though, which you're extremely thankful for. He's even started trying to help your aim in an attempt to give you peace of mind, although you can't use either of his guns without the kickback sending you to the floor. It never fails to make him laugh.
You never thought you'd be such fast friends with him, to be honest. It's definitely welcome at this point. Anything to stop yourself from obsessing over the future you may or may not inadvertently change just by being here.
The Watchers are also very good at finding things, which also helps keep both you and Strife entertained. You cannot believe they've never heard of video games. They've literally had thousands of years of time to have an industrial revolution. It took humans, what? Two hundred years to go from candlesticks and letters to solar-power and instant communications?
Shameful, you think, turning your attention back to the entertainment in question.
In front of you is an insanely well preserved TV set, along with a wii and several games. Honestly you didn't expect this much when you simply requested 'entertainment' from the Watchers. When asked how? they laughed and said you don't want to know. You're still not sure if they were joking or not.
You're currently trying to play smash bros, and Strife refuses any lessons aside from the barest bones (ie how to move and attack). You've sent him flying of screen quite a few times, much to your amusement and his annoyance. There's also two CPU's on the lowest difficulty, but those are also easily dispatched.
"Are you havin fun?" You laugh, making Strife hiss with irritation.
"Fuck this game! I hit you, and I died!" Strife snarls, although thankfully he's not really angry.
"We traded hits, and you had a higher percentage." You giggle, your on screen counter part doing a taunt. "It's to be expected though, I mean you're a total newbie. Maybe if you tie my wrists together you'll win." You're just messing with him at this point, pressing your lips together to keep from smiling.
He goes eerily quiet, not even moving his character.
You pretend you can't feel his glare drilling a hole in your temple. "Strife?" You ask after a few beats.
"Good idea." He finally chuckles. You don't like how smug he sounds one bit, glancing at him out of the corner of your eyes.
You have absolutely no time to react before he's yanking you into his lap, dropping your remote in shock. "Strife!" You screech as he cages you against his chest. "What the hell!?"
"Your idea." He hums. He settles down crisscross to accommodate you, his hands ending up resting on your legs, and seemingly completely oblivious to your frame of mind.
Which is mostly composed of internal screaming and the phrase "I am in Strife's lap right now. Holy shit." in case you're wondering.
It takes you a while to get your mouth to work, and the words are strung together with shock. "I didn't mean literally! Or like- this!" You snap, knowing this no reason to try and escape. He's a Horseman after all. An annoying, overly literal, and apparently competitive Horseman at that.
"Look at that!" He cheers, laying his head on top of your almost affectionately. It would've been cute if not for the mask digging into your skull. You're also suddenly extremely aware of how big he is in comparison to yourself. And how uncomfy armor is. No wonder he's always in a mood.
You brush that thought off and look at the screen as requested, finding your character to be reappearing on the little platform. "I died?" You huff.
"And I killed you." He answers happily.
"You're a dirty cheater." You hiss. You're not really angry, but he doesn't have to know that.
"I consider myself a fairly clean cheater." Laughing, he continues to beat up your immobile character.
You shake your head, smiling despite yourself. What a big fucking nerd. You think, moving to press the 'A' button for him.
"How'd you do that?" He asks immediately, handing you the controller.
"Are you going to let me actually teach you this time, or what?"
He snorts. "Fine. Teach me, o' wise human."
You do just that, eventually just switching to the 'adventure' mode and grabbing your own remote again. Strife is much nicer when he's not trying to beat your score, you learn. He still makes some hilarious mistakes and blames you though.
It isn't until a few more hours creep by that he suddenly goes rigid and growls something in an unfamiliar language. His grip on you becomes acutely painful, but you really doubt he's doing it purposefully.
"Strife?" You ask curiously, tilting your head back to look at him.
"Somebody's home." He replies.
You pause, your mind not comprehending his words. "What?"
"One of my siblings has returned." He reiterates, his disdain evident.
"Oh... Cool." You say simply, looking back at your game. "Are we still playing or...?" You ask carefully, wanting the relaxed Strife back. As totally fricken stoked you are to learn that you'll probably meet another Horseman soon, you think reclaiming Strife's good mood is more important.
He pauses, very slowly loosening up again. "I suppose." He nods.
You both return to the game, the mysterious returning Horseman all but forgotten as Strife jumps off a cliff to check for treasure and ends up dying. Your laughter completely drowns out the sound of heels on stone.
Strife doesn't seem surprised when Fury appears in the doorway though, while you freeze up. Oh my god.
"Strife?" She asks, titling her head to the side and eyeing the two of you with confusion.
"The one and only." Strife answers flatly, nudging your leg. You pause the game instead of ignoring Fury like he seems to be planning on.
"Who... Is this?" Her eyes brows furrow.
You grin excitedly, willing yourself to keep still. "I'm (Y/N). I'm... The Council sorta bought me here so yeah. It's a pleasure to meet you!"
You're not the most articulate under pressure.
"What is a human doing alive? Strife, what is going on?" She's leaning down next to you in a hot second, brushing her fingers over you cheek. The motion isn't affectionate, rather mirroring that of a kid faced with something sparkly. You don't like it. "And why are you cuddling it?"
"I'm not an it." You protest lightly, grinding your teeth. "And I can cuddle whoever the hell I want." You mean for it to be playful, but it comes out viciously.
Strife laughs, while Fury looks downright startled.
"I... did not mean to offend," She says, one side of her mouth tilting upward. "It comes as a surprise to find my brother so close to a human, of all beings. Strife has never one for affection."
You pointedly lean farther into Strife's hold, pouting childishly. "I am. And as for why I'm here, the Council won't allow me to get into the details. But... It has to do with War." Your chain begins to heat when you mention War, just a warning this time.
You learned your new belt is at least semi-sentient only a few hours after arriving in the Horseman's realm, when you accidentally mentioned War obtaining a replica of Mercy later on. You probably still have the scorch marks. Nasty business, really.
"War? What of him?" Fury demands, narrowing her eyes.
"I can't tell you." Avoiding her gaze, you look down at Strife's hands. "I want to, but..."
Strife says something in what you think must be the nephilim's language, sounding starkly different than what the council used. It's... Smoother, you think. Not as many harsh syllables and lacking the rumbly council noise. You prefer this one.
Fury answers in the same language, moving to settle down on the floor next to the both of you.
It gets harder and harder to ignore your anxiety as the conversation continues, noticeably worse than usual because you can't understand a word they're saying.
He's probably just explaining the situation, you remind yourself. Explaining that you're supposed to change War's fate in the Council's favor, potentially dying in the process, and more than likely stabbing him in the back in order to stay in line with Shadow and the Council. You'll have to double cross War, your favorite character.
The more reasonable side of you demands you stop worrying, but unfortunately panic is much more dominant. You know you're driving yourself into a anxiety attack, but damn if your panic doesn't make a good point.
"Hey, kid." Strife says, his voice sounding much farther away than it should. "(Y/N)?"
You make a strangled noise in reply, shaking your head.
"Dammit." He curses. You're dimly aware of him shifting you around, not really paying attention at this point. "Hey. Look at me." He orders, tilting your face up.
Blinking in confusion, you focus on his bright eyes.
"You want a story?" He asks, quite gently for Strife.
You recognize this as an attempt to distract you, and abruptly realize he's worried about you. You're not sure how to feel about that. After a split second of deliberation, you nod.
"Have I told you what I used before I got Redemption and Mercy yet?" He prompts.
It takes you a minute to realize he actually expects an answer, even if he does know he hasn't told you that particular story. "...No." You say slowly, concentrating on his eyes and the way he's running his thumb over the back if your hand. It's harder than it sounds with most of you still panicking.
He launches into a long tale of how he came to find his guns, explaining he used to use a "ridiculously limited sword" and various long ranged weapons, including a bow. The mental image of Strife using a bow to shoot down his enemies makes you snigger.
By the time he finishes explaining all this and starts another story (this one involving disciplining angels for not bending to the Council), you're all but back to normal, if not a bit sleepy. You cautiously lay your head on his shoulder, smiling when he continues as if you hadn't moved at all.
"You should've seen War back then, (y/n). Age has calmed him." He scoffs.
"Time has only bored you, brother." Fury suddenly says, sounding amused. "Perhaps you should take notes."
You twitch in surprise, having completely forgotten about her. No thanks to Strife, who had turned to strategically away from her when you began to freak the hell out.
Strife snorts, chuckling. "Because our incarcerated little brother is such a great role model. I think I've got my hands full with these human games anyway. And (y/n), apparently."
"Rude." You shove his chest, although it does all of nothing to the Horseman.
"Listen to the human, Strife." Fury snickers.
You yawn widely while Strife fires off some snarky reply, your eyes watering. "Dude, I'm tired as frick, don't you dare start yelling."
"Figures. How often do you need to sleep exactly? Every two hours?" Strife shakes his head, once again repositioning you, until he can comfortably stand up.
"Yes. I'm actually a cat, Strife. I require seventeen to twenty hours of sleep a day or I'll die." You reply sarcastically, dramatically going limp in his arms.
Fury is laughing throughout this interaction, watching you with what could almost be admiration. "You are welcome to find me after you rest, (y/n). I would love to understand why my brother has taken such a shining to you."
"He's desperate." You shrug, smiling up at Strife when he glares. "I'm kidding."
"I could drop you." He threatens.
"But you won't." You reply confidently, knowing it to be true. He'll scare the hell out of you for sure, but he won't purposely harm you, you're certain.
He makes a noncommittal noise, kicking the living room door open. The bang makes you flinch, much to his amusement. You shoot him a glare, but otherwise don't comment.
It's a very short walk to your bedroom, where Strife unceremoniously plops you onto your bed. You watch him with interest as he grabs your desk chair and settles down, going as far as to pull out the ds you didn't realize he had stolen from you. Sneaky.
"You're staying." It sounds more like a statement than a question, but he gets the point.
"None of us need you worrying yourself dead before you even start your 'quest'." His tone implies that's the only reason, but you know for a fact that's just an excuse.
"You're really worried about me, aren't you?" You ask, smiling.
"Keep telling yourself that." He replies dryly, leaning back leisurely and pointedly mashing buttons on the ds.
"You can just admit you care about me, you know." You tell him, getting comfy. "I care about you too."
Strife doesn't verbally respond, but a quick glance confirms he's not nearly as tense anymore. It'd be much easier to read him if he left that mask off though. You internally sigh, burying your face in the pillow. Maybe you'll ask later.
:#:#3#:#:
You find Fury in her 'bedroom', which looks startlingly similar to Strife's. It's mostly bare, a rarely slept in bed in one corner and a table and chair set in the other. Fury also has a small vanity, presumably to brush out her mass of gorgeous purple hair.
She's perched on one of the chairs, absently sharpening her claws. You're surprised to note her casual clothing, but shrug it off. It makes sense. You're not sure why Strife insists on wearing full armor in his own house.
Her door is open, but you nonetheless knock on the doorframe. "May I come in?"
"You may." She glances up with a smile, motioning to the seat across from her. "Did you have a pleasant rest? Strife mentioned your nightmares, and I can understand why considering your foresight."
So they really were talking about me. "I sleep pretty well when he's nearby though." You hum, sitting crisscross. "He... We're friends. Honestly I'm not sure how that happened, but yeah."
Fury returns to her claws, the quiet, repetitive filing noise calming your nerves. "I don't doubt your friendship, (y/n). I'm pleased Strife was ordered to find you in fact."
You find yourself irrationally irritated by her formal speech, but shove that thought away as she continues.
"But... I'll admit I am less than optimistic of your ability to assist War clear his name. Strife says you have next to no combat training?" She asks, appraising you.
You frown. "Yeah. I mean, I know how to use a gun, not like one of Strife's either, just a little human gun, but that's about it. I took some basic self defense courses a few years ago..."
Her lips tilt up into a serene smile. "Fortunately for you then, I have very little on my to-do list. We can start immediately, unless you wish to discuss it with Strife."
"Start... What?" You repeat slowly, hoping she doesn't mean what you assume. There's no way one of the Horseman is offering to train you not a day after your first meeting.
"Your training." Her bright yellow eyes fix you in place. "If I'm to entrust you with my youngest brother's well being, I will do everything in my power to strengthen you."
You can't manage much more than, "Oh."
She raises an eyebrow, and you absently wonder if that's where Strife got it.
"I would... Love to train with you, but I'm not sure if I can... Keep up, I guess. I'm just a human." You admit, twisting your hands anxiously.
Her eyes narrow. "Just a human? Do not sell yourself short, child. Your race is the most resilient and clever breed I have ever seen, and you are the last of them." Her voice is sharp, contrasting harshly with her words. "You will do fine."
You bite the inside of your cheek, nodding uncertainly. "Let's do this thing."
:*:*3*:*:
Fury watches curiously as you bustle around the large kitchen area, humming along to hundred year old music. Apparently "Fall Out Boy" would be very pleased to know you've remembered them.
"Are you certain this is what you want to be doing in your off time?" She asks. Only a few days into training and you've already begun to show improvement. You're still no match for even the weakest of demons, but you've got nearly six months to work with. Given your apparent work ethic, Fury believes she will be able drag you out of the 'hindrance' category and into the role of an advisor War will listen to.
"I promised Strife I'd make pizza, and the dough has to rise. So if I make it right now, by the time we finish today's lessons it'll be nice and airy." You reply breezily, continuing the knead said dough. "I still don't understand how the Watcher's got ahold of cheese, but honestly I don't care."
"They have a way of getting their claws on things." She shrugs.
You hum, moving to place the ball of dough in a bowl and set a dishcloth over it. "There. You wanna get back to training?"
"While I appreciate your excitement, you do have to rest." She leans forward, pressing her hand against your cheek and forehead. "You're still warm."
"Yes, that happens when you're alive." You respond, wiping down the counter. "I told you, I don't feel... Normal. I think the Council did more than just stabilize me."
You've been here for almost two weeks now, and your change in appetite is becoming apparent. You're just... Not hungry very much lately. A dinner and small breakfast is enough to keep you energized for all day, much to your confusion. You've also started sleeping less, but that could be a combination of the Council's meddling and your nightmares. You don't feel as tired as you think you should though.
"Even nephilim need to rest, (y/n)." She responds calmly. "And Strife would have my head if I worked you too hard."
You snicker, hopping up on tabletop. "He's known me for like two weeks, and you for millennia. I doubt he'd actually hurt you."
"You don't know him as I do, child. He... Will most certainly hold a grudge for a perceived offense, and it does not hurt that you have him wrapped around your finger." She smiles lightly. "I am happy for you both nonetheless."
"You make it sound like we're dating." You deadpan, frowning.
"You humans have such a strange fixation on every relationship being romantic." She sighs, tapping her nails against the counter.
You pause, finding it hard to disagree. "A fair point."
"And if I remember correctly, you mentioned finding War to be the most attractive of the four." She smirks teasingly.
"Wait a minute, were you eavesdropping, Fury!?" You press your hand to your heart as if you're offended. You distinctly remember telling that to Strife a few days ago. He seems to enjoy trying to fluster you with talk of War, so you tried to turn it around on him. It didn't work.
"It is not my fault your voice gets louder when you're excited. And I would hardly call it 'eavesdropping', considering this is the Horseman's realm." She laughs.
"Ohhh, sure." You snort. "That totally excuses you."
"Are you sassing me, human?" She growls, her smile betraying her amusement.
Rolling your eyes, you assure her, "Of course not. I would never sass a Horseman. You're a scary bunch."
She hums, giving you a disbelieving look. "You would not sass a Horseman, but you plan on courting one?"
"Yes! As long as I've got his big sister's permission?" You confirm, stretching out your tried arms.
"...We will see." She answers, getting to her feet.
"Will sharing the pizza persuade you or do I have to work harder than that?" You joke.
"Maybe just a bit."
You giggle, smiling warmly at the Horseman. "More training?" You ask.
She nods, motioning for you to go ahead. "Such a quick learner."
The next hour or so passes in an exhausting blur, but thankfully it's mostly just stamina training today. Just a bunch of running and repetitive exercises. Fury keeps up with you without any apparent trouble, murmuring encouragements and correcting your posture a few times.
You're quite tired (and sweaty) by the time she calls it a day, collapsing onto the bench. You take a large gulp of your water, remembering too late you were supposed to add more ice. It's lukewarm now, but hey. You roll your eyes.
"Tired?" Fury hums, gracefully settling down next to you.
"Well yeah." You laugh. "It'll be worth it though."
She raises an eyebrow.
"I wanna make it to the end of this whole mess and War's gotta take out the Ch-" You stop mid sentence, gasping in pain. Your chain begins to burn with a vengeance at the mention of War, obviously displeased with your rule breaking.
Hey, dumbass, you're not supposed to talk about that, the meaner part of you hisses. You didn't mean to break the rules! I were just trying to make conversation, you argue.
Wrapping your arms around your middle, you shake your head. "Fuck. Sorry, I didn't mean- I forgot I'm not allowed to talk about that." You're really not sure if you're talking to the chain or Fury at this point, but damn does it hurt.
Fury grabs your shoulders, sounding honestly distressed as she demands, "What is happening? (Y/N)?" When you don't immediately answer she jumps to her feet, "Strife? What have they done?"
"It's nothing," You assure her through gritted teeth. It seems to be cooling now at least. The thing about burns is that they hurt more later. You're fully aware of this, and so's the Council apparently. It's actually pretty clever of them. Bruises and cuts can easily be forgotten after the fact, while burns aren't.
Smug fuckers, you hiss silently.
Strife appears before Fury can yell at you about lying, seeming to understand near instantly. "They talked?" He sighs, sounding downright irritated.
"Yes." You answer, opening your eyes. "I fucked up."
"How bad?" He crouches down next to the both you you, brushing away Fury's hands. Grabbing the edges of your shirt, he pauses, "May I?"
You give him a blank stare, raising your eyebrows. "Really?"
"I do have some manners," He protests.
You smile, yanking your shirt up yourself. Sure enough, there's a long, angry burn just above your waistline. It curls around your whole body, the chain links easily distinguishable. "Gross." You wince.
Strife prods at the injury, tracing the older, less serious mark and shaking his head. "This one's probably going to scare, kid."
"Great." You sigh.
"Come on. I'd offer to carry you but I don't think I can without touching your waist." He stands back up, offering you his hand.
"Thanks." You take it without hesitation. "Although I might need help grating the cheese for our pizza now." You prompt.
Fury snorts, moving to your other side. "Ah, yes, abdominal injures make shredding cheese much harder."
"My arms are tired too, thank you very much, Fury." You quip.
"Have you two found a weapon yet?" Strife asks curiously. "Your gun won't do you much good against demons."
"Would it help against angels?" You hum, extremely pleased when your chain lets that go without frying you. Maybe you'll just have to be trickier with your spoilers. And much more careful, you allow.
"(Y/N)..." Fury warns, "At least let the metal cool."
Strife is surprisingly thoughtful in his response, pausing before responding, "They have weaker hides than demons, but they also wear armor. You'd have to be careful with your aim, and make sure it's a fatal shot. Anything else and it'd just piss it off."
"Nonetheless, we will need a proper close range weapon for you. War is not the type to pick off enemies one by one." Fury smiles fondly.
"From what I've heard he's more of a Leeroy Jenkins kinda guy." You tease, the reference flying over their head's. Fury laughs anyway, shaking her head at your pleased expression. "But seriously, I don't think I'll be able to use claws or a whip."
"Oh, no. It would take years to effectively use my weapons, and your movements are still too slow. I was thinking a heavier, wide swinging weapon to keep the enemies at bay until War can assist you." She admits, glancing at Strife. "Although I wouldn't be the best tutor for such a weapon."
"No." His voice is disbelieving. "You don't really think he'd help."
"If it is to help War, I believe he would." Her lips tilt up.
The Horseman switches into that ancient language again, seeming to vehemently protest to whatever Fury is suggesting. You squeeze his hand uncertainly, trying to get his attention.
"What?" He asks sharply, and although you know it's not directed at you, it makes you flinch.
"Who is 'he'?" You bite your lip.
He narrows his eyes, his voice like a blade, "Death."