Honorary Titan Fanweek 2021 Prompt 1: Off-screen Events

The One I Can Fully Trust

"Been a while, hasn't it?"

Hot Spot wasn't sure what to say to the girl hovering outside of his window. The sun had long set over his town, and most of the vendors lining the streets had gone to sleep. In the dead of night, her voice seemed to reverberate throughout his flat, filling his ears with a sound he had nearly forgotten.

"Argent," he breathed out, blinking. He half-expected her to be a mirage, but when his eyes focused, he still stared at her. "What are you doing here?"

"Can't an old friend visit?" she asked, her thick lips curving into a smirk. She pushed through the window and stepped inside, approaching the taller boy. She scanned his room, eyeing his possessions with eyes that had known only riches. "Kind of barebones in here."

"Not like I need as much stuff as you do," he said, crossing his arms and giving his room a cursory look. His bed pressed against the dark blue wall with warm, fresh sheets and pillowcases. His smooth wood desk and shelves held his electronics and textbooks on the other side of the room. On his desk, he had lit a vanilla candle, perfuming the room with a sweet scent. And on his closed bathroom door, he had hung up a framed photograph of old friends, one of them now standing before him.

Argent chuckled, her bony shoulders shaking. "True, true. I do like my things," she admitted, hovering past him to his leather loveseat. She sat down, the cushions hardly creaking under her weight. She slipped off her shoes and crossed her legs, gesturing for Hot Spot to sit with her, inclining her head to the empty seat.

"You know it's kind of late, isn't it?" Hot Spot asked, leaning into the arm of the loveseat. "I have to patrol tomorrow morning, and I don't have time for anything frivolous."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Argent's smile fell. She recoiled as if wounded, and a crease formed in his brow, wondering why his statements caused her distress. Argent ran her hand over her forearm, her gaze falling to his shag carpets, a sigh deep from within her escaping through her mouth.

"It's tomorrow," she plainly said.

Her cryptic statement made his lips press together. He ran his fingers through his curly hair, questioning, "What? What's tomorrow?"

"The day we defeated them."

"Ah-!"

He gripped his jaw, preventing any more useless yelps from emerging. His heart thundered in his ears, his blood freezing in veins that had so often burned him. He dragged himself next to the only Titan who shared in his pain, slumping down next to her, the memories he had buried resurfacing from the crevices of his mind.

"It's the day we beat the H'San Natall? Already?" he murmured, shame coloring his cheeks.

Argent gripped his shoulder, smiling. "I don't blame you for forgetting. Isn't that the reason why we all moved?"

"You went to New Zealand, and I took off to Morocco, and the others-" Gritting his teeth, Hot Spot shrugged. "-well, I don't know. I used to talk to them, but they stopped returning my letters and calls."

"It's like they've fallen off the face of the planet," she grumbled, shaking her head. "I asked Robin to look into Risk and Prysm's whereabouts, but even the Boy Wonder is having trouble." She fidgeted with her gloves. "He told me he wanted to ask them to join the fight against the Brotherhood, but you can tell how that went."

Hot Spot nodded, looking at the photograph on his bathroom door. The four of them had saved the world from a hostile alien race, and their reward was a lifetime of reorganizing their trauma. While they had defended the planet from impending domination and bonded throughout the experience, they each went their separate ways. And although he had tried keeping contact with them, Risk and Prysm had taken the aftermath harsher than he expected, the former severing ties with everyone as soon as he could.

And yet, Hot Spot cherished them. Even if he had grown distrustful, he knew he could put his life in their hands time and time again. He only wished he had in touch more frequently; if he had, then maybe suspicion wouldn't overrule his sensibility.

"There were good times and bad times, weren't there?" Argent asked, leaning into him. Removing her hand, she placed her head on his shoulder, and Hot Spot remained still, observing her. She only lowered her guard around him, her closest friend, the one who shared in her secrets.

"And we crashed your silvery sweet sixteen," he joked, earning a light punch to his thigh.

"You still owe me a birthday present. Make it something glamorous, please," Argent requested, chuckling.

"No promises."

They lapsed into silence, the hum of streetlights, a ticking clock on his wall, and their breathing the only discernible noises. He stared at the ceiling, feeling as if old wounds ripped apart on his skin. He closed his eyes, the harsher days that he had abandoned returning with a vengeance, and he witnessed the violent encounters again, smelling copper and smoke that seemed endless.

But Argent squeezed his hand, breaking him out of his stupor. He gasped, his chest heaving as she straightened. Argent cupped his hand, her thumb running over his calloused knuckles, and she reached up to hold his face, his heat extending to warm her palm.

"Toni," he murmured, her real name foreign in his ears.

"It's okay, Isaiah," she crooned, her voice raw with emotion. "We were thrust into that. We didn't know anything or any better."

"We were only sixteen," he muttered, gritting his teeth. He sniffled, closing his eyes so hard they ached. "We just turned sixteen when it happened, Toni."

She wreathed her arms around his neck. He smelled a faint hint of floral perfume wafting off her. Hot Spot held her close, treasuring the one person he could fully trust. His heart yearned for her and the life he once led, but safe in her arms, Hot Spot's emotions melted into a hodgepodge of comfort and contrition.

But before he could focus on his feelings, Argent pulled back and grabbed his shoulders. A fire burned in her scarlet eyes hotter than anything he could produce. "Let's do something fun tomorrow," she announced. "I'm not going to let it be a day of moping when there's so much else we could do."

Hot Spot blinked away his tears, shock written on his face. "Uh, I don't have a say in this. Or do I?"

"Absolutely not."

He allowed himself to laugh, each note airy and weary. "What, are we gonna go shopping?"

She brightened and batted her eyelashes. "What a delightful idea," she purred, lacing her fingers together. As he winced, she tilted her head, her expression softening. "And perhaps, we can look for them as well."

He relaxed. The corner of his lip curled into his cheek. "Yeah. I think it's time for a reunion," he said, squeezing her hand.

The candle burned, white wax slipping into the cup, and Hot Spot nestled into her. She was an irreplaceable presence in a life muddled by skepticism. If he had realized the significance of tomorrow without her, then he feared he would have spent it alone weeping in his room.

But she continued to hold his hand, and he thanked her for it.

"Don't worry, Hot Spot. I won't tell anyone you cried."

"Yeah, yeah, right back at ya."