Redacted

Rest Well

Edited: 5/12/2024

"You should be restin'."

Shifting his green eyes over his shoulder, Angel sensed Hope's frustration through their bond as his Ghost's shell enclosed around her core, optic narrowed.

"I will." He said; Hope let out an exasperated sigh, "Just as soon as I am done checking on Abraxos."

"Angel."

"Look." Angel interrupted, "I just need to be moving, alright?" There was an itch under his skin, worsened when he sat in that hospital bed, "Sitting in that small prison they call a room is putting me on edge, and it doesn't help that the Medics doesn't know the meaning of privacy."

Although admittingly, it was funny to see his Ghost snap at them and practically chase them out.

Nonetheless, it did little to ease the heaviness against his body, the uneasiness shaking around his knees, even though he is out and about. Subtly shaking his head, Angel then looked down at his hands, flexing them to ensure his cloak still functioned.

"Not to mention that the room is not fortified." He muttered.

From the corner of his eyes, he can see the outline of his Ghost flinch, prompting Angel to take in a deep shuddering breath before he willed himself forward, weaving between the forms of unaware Guardians through the wall. It was almost laughingly easy, the way he would flick past chattering Guardians, dodging ones in a rush, and even twisted around those who came around corners, all of whom didn't even flinch as he weaved past them. Despite this, Angel felt like it took too many steps, too many seconds before his eyes finally settled upon familiar glittering numbers and letters emboldened upon the plating next to his apartment door. He was quick, practically leaping towards the panel next to the entrance and placed his hand upon it. There was a flicker, a flash of light and the door slid open, prompting Angel to swiftly step inside. As he stepped in, he looked over his shoulder, eyes locked onto the sensors around the frame as the door slid close. Angel finally stepped away when the sensors lit up, breathing out as he let the tension bleed from his body.

"Everything up and running?" He asked, hearing the hum of his cloak fade from his ears as he saw Hope's white and red shell bob into the air, "no one acted suspiciously?"

"Just the same old Guardians scramblin' down the halls." Hope confirmed, practically humming, "but I put up barriers just in case."

Nodding his head once at Hope, Angel took several steps forward, only to pause, hesitate, and then turn his attention back to the doorway.

If it wasn't for the fact that Angel wasn't so tired, so wary, he would have found it funny that before he had gotten his memory back, he had felt no need to add security, to add precautions to the entry of his own apartment. He had been content with simply walking in and out with a turn of the lock. But now, Angel couldn't find himself at ease, not until he had set up sensors that would send a signal to Hope if any uninvited guests stepped in, and a pad set up where it would allow only Angel entry. Without them now, Angel would feel unprotected, naked, even if his door was simply locked and barred.

"How about we give our little security an upgrade?" Angel jumped, blinking rapidly before turning his eyes towards Hope, "It has been a few years since we lasted implemented it. I say it is time to make some improvements."

Taking in her words, Angel found a smile pulling at his lips, and he nodded, which was quickly followed by a gentle tug from Hope through their bond. This gave Angel enough confidence to turn around and continue into his place of living, brushing past rooms until he made it to the back where he approached a closed door. As Angel went to place his palm against the panel, he paused as he heard muffled clicks, prompting him to take in a breath before pressing the pad on the side. Then, when the door slid open, he peeked in.

"Abraxos?" He called out.

No sooner had the name left his lips when the low clicks paused, only for them to be repeated back in a higher pitch and an excited tone. That is when a familiar orb-like shape floated into view, the Servitor's eye blinking as it clicked and approached. This signaled Angel to hold out his hands, allowing the basketball sized machine to snuggle in and look up at him with their glowing white optic.

"I swear that Inkolas programmed these Seraphim to act like puppies." Angel couldn't help but smile at Hope's statement, "they are way too needy to be normal Servitor behavior."

"I like them." Angel said.

He then gave his Ghost an innocent smile as she turned and gave him a blank look.

"That's because they're practically named after you!" she retorted.

Unable to help but chuckle at his ghost's outburst, Angel then decided to turn his attention back to the Servitor in his hands and brushed his fingers against its plating. This earned him a soft hum.

He remembered the day when Ixrsis first introduced the new model of Servitors, the Kell beaming as she explained the work of the recently freed Splicer. Inkolas had intentionally made them small, compact, claiming that it would make it easier to transport and hand out Ether with their size. Although Angel also recalled Inkolas muttering how it was 'smart' to craft a machine that produced life saving ether that large in the first place.

Thanks to that, Angel believed that the white plating of the Servitors was made so that they are capable of blending into the snow and to make it easier for the camouflage protocol to blend in other backgrounds. Although, thanks to their size, this also made the Seraphim models practically useless in fighting and unusable as a shield. He remembers Inkolas struggling to find a compromise in that fault.

Smiling wryly at the memory of the House of Spirits Splicer, Angel's face then fell at the thought of his friends, and he couldn't help the sad sigh that built up in the back of his throat. In turn, he sensed the look of concern from Hope. Half-expecting Hope to comment, all Angel received was silence. He is grateful for that.

Releasing his hold just enough for Abraxos to linger away from his fingertips, Angel stood in place as the Servitor clicked and beeped around the room.

After the House of Spirit had left him – abandoned him – Angel had treasured Abraxos and the two other Servitors that he had been given; Dumah and Elyon he had called them. But not long after Ixrsis and the others left, a handful of Guardians spotted the Servitors in their usual place at the Hangar and Angel was barely able to save Abraxos from destruction. There was a reason why the small Servitor was now in his quarters behind meager security.

"There, you checked on Abraxos." Angel turned his eyes to Hope; he saw his Ghost's shell twist and shift against her core, "now will you rest?"

Pressing his lips together, Angel went to protest, opened his mouth, only to pause as he looked into the hardened stare of Hope's optic. She wasn't going to take no for an answer.

Dropping his shoulders in defeat, Angel took one last glance at Abraxos to ensure the Servitor was truly safe before finally making his exit. Hearing the small clicks of the Seraphim model echo happily as he shut the door, Angel then went back down the hall, tracing his footsteps back to his room. At least, the place he sleeps when he is at the Tower.

Upon entering, Angel's green eyes lingered over the bed in the middle of the room. He rolled his eyes and then walked over, tugging on the sheets. The pillows rolled off onto the floor.

Hearing his Ghost snicker quietly at his work, Angel promptly bundled up the sheets and pillows into his arms, walked to a corner, and dumped them onto the floor. Then, he promptly sat down in it, curling, and fixing the blankets and pillows until finally, Angel snuggled down into his makeshift nest.

"Still cannot believe they refused to remove the mattress." Angel heard Hope let out a huff, "Basic necessity? We don't need it."

"Definitely not." Letting the soft rumble of Eliksni slide off his tongue as he nodded, Angel then clasped his hands together before settling them onto his stomach, "Should we burn it?"

A soft hum came from Hope, "It's tempting but it's not ours." Angel watched as she turned her green optic at him, the light beaming from her lens, "Perhaps later."

Feeling a smile coming, Angel opted to lean his head back and close his eyes, letting himself sink into his makeshift nest. It wasn't long after that he felt a familiar weight settle on to his chest.

"Do you think that they will exile Lumir and the others?" Angel flinched at her question, feeling her shift against his chest, "or perhaps they will keep them Tower bound?"

Instead of answering, Angel opened his eyes and lifted his arm, turning the appendage to examine it. Then, he let out a small noise, eyeing the unfamiliar designs of human machinations. The plating even seemed too clean in his eyes, especially when compared to the rustic and uneven patterns of Syliks' work. Quietly, he deliberated if he should visit the Kings.

"I don't know." Angel finally answered, setting his arm back against his abdomen, "I honestly don't know."

Feeling Hope snuggle against him, Angel then took in a deep breath, feeling his anxieties, his worries simmering beneath the surface. It would be better if Lumir and the Blossoms that had followed under his orders were exiled, forced to leave the Tower and into the Wilds where they would not press harm against others. But that would mean a chance encounter with them, out where Angel considers home, leaving a possibility that they would pose a threat to himself. And the Kings.

In contrast, while Tower bound, they would be under the watchful eye of the Vanguard and other Guardians, ensuring all their activities are kept in sight. But would that be enough to keep the threat of Lumir from Angel and the others? What would happen if Fireteam Redacted and the disgraced members of the Blossoms of Hope were to meet? And Pluto and the rest of clan Galaxy?

Angel shivered at the thought. It wouldn't be pretty.

"Do you want me to call the others?" Angel lifted his head just enough to look down at Hope, seeing his Ghost's green optic glowing softly, "to check on them?"

Staying silent, Angel simply laid his head back, feeling it sink into the sheets and pillows.

Despite the sincerity in her words, Angel knows that it was also an attempt to make him feel better, to help lift the emotions, the fear that had been building in his chest since being freed from the Blossoms.

To check on them?

Angel knows that despite Nine/Knight's years of experience, that the team's current objective of stabilizing Ianos would be successful. After all, they have one of the oldest and most experienced Guardians amongst their number. He knows Redacted enough where they do not need to be 'checked on'.

"At least, to say hello."

Lifting his head again, Angel felt the tug through their bond and couldn't help but feel sheepish. He had left his mind and thoughts open. Hope had been literately reading him like a book.

Feeling Hope's amusement through their bond, Angel again leaned his head back, contemplating.

It would be nice to call in, to see how the others are doing, the progress on their mission, especially since last they had been in contact, Angel had been recovering. To see their faces again, especially after what he had recently endured, would be nice.

But he also knows that Fireteam Redacted are at risk.

They are after all, still considered to be in enemy territory. The Tower and the Revenants are only considered to be under ceasefire, treaty or not. That could change quickly. And Angel doesn't want to risk giving them a call, especially when he doesn't know where and who is present. Despite the tightness in his throat, the numbness in his head, Angel subtly shook his head. He can not only feel the disappointment but also the understanding through their bond.

"Then rest well." she said.

Feeling her shift and then go still upon his chest, Angel closed his eyes, trying to calm his mind and to rest.

He couldn't.

Not with the echoes, the taunts still ringing in his mind.