Archive of Our Own

One day. They only had today to track down the rogue radivore that was roaming inside Svalbard’s abandoned Kingdom facility.

And while they were at it, they were encouraged to investigate the facility itself. See if they could extract any information from the systems — and perhaps from the bodies themselves.

“It’s freezing here.”

They stood in front of the facility, the tall building looming over them. The winds rolled across snow-capped mountains, giving the facility a hazy backdrop. The overcast sky and the whipping snowflakes around them gave the facility a much more menacing look.

The harsh wind nipped against Sova’s exposed cheeks, and he tightened the hood around his head. “Nothing I’m not used to,” he said. “It’s no different than Icebox.”

“How you managed to stay out here is beyond me,” Cypher muttered beside him, clinging onto his gear bag. “I’m hoping the inside’s warm.”

He was wearing a much thicker coat. The sight of Cypher wearing something that wasn’t his white coat was an odd one, though it seemed that it did nothing against the cold. 

“I doubt it,” Sova said honestly. “It’s running on reserves. When I found her, it was pretty chilly inside.”

“Great,” the spy muttered dryly. He started to trudge through the snow, towards the entrance of the abandoned facility. “Let’s go. Before I turn into a popsicle.”

He looked up behind him, seeing the VLT/R fly off far into the distance. The aircraft became nothing but a small dot in the gray sky. 

Sova pressed on.

They walked through the snow with little conversation, with only the sound of the wind warping around them. He let Cypher deal with the entrance as Sova watched his back. He listened to him hum and mutter about the security system, and soon enough, the heavy metal entryway slid open.

“Stay alert,” Sova said quietly. He readied his Vandal. “The bear’s still on the loose inside the building.”

“Assuming it hasn’t made its way out of the building.”

“I gave the area a once-over from the VLT/R. No signs of a loose radivore, even if the snow tried to cover its trail.”

“Hm.”

“Most of the facility is underground. I don’t think it could claw its way out of the building even if it tried.”

“If you’re sure…”

The entryway closed behind them, pushing in the last of Svalbard’s frigid air from the outside. They were immediately plunged into near darkness; the dim red floodlights provided little lighting.

“You said this place is running on reserves?” Cypher questioned.

“The last of it. The gates probably still work, if it’s like yesterday.”

Heavy yet cautious footsteps echoed along the long corridor. Streaks of outside light slipped into the facility through the holes in the ceiling, the tundra air flooding the area.

They heard scurrying, and they immediately readied themselves. From the corner of Sova’s eye, a couple of rats dashed across from them and shove themselves into a vent. Cypher adjusted the rifle bag that was slung to his back.

“Rats. This place really has been abandoned for a while if it’s falling apart like this,” the spy remarked. Sova heard his coat rustle. “It’s still freezing in here. Hopefully it gets warmer as we go deeper…”

“Worry about the cold later,” he said dryly. “We have a bigger problem on hand.”

“Do you really think the bear didn’t escape?” As Cypher said that, another piece of the ceiling fell with a loud clang, the sound reverberating across the corridor. “The facility’s breaking down as we speak.”

“I think it escaped just recently,” he figured. “This all happened yesterday; I doubt it’s gone far. And the bear has… food.”

The two men went quiet at his words — an unspoken, small moment of silence for the three that fell from the bear.

Well, two. For the fallen Ståljeger team. None for the Kingdom scientist.

“It won’t try to leave just yet then,” Cypher said. “Let’s hurry.”

“Kingdom’s unaware of the situation?”

“Right now, they aren’t. But they will soon.”

They quickened their pace, their hold on their guns hot. They walked through winding corridors, heading deeper into the facility. It got notably warmer, but it wasn’t enough to ease Cypher’s muttered complaints.

They reached a passageway with the gate towards the end wide open. From the distance, he could see the broken enclosure and the purple substance on the wall.

“We’re reaching the containment enclosures,” Sova said, his voice dropping to a low whisper. “Stay close. It can come from the ceiling.”

“The ceiling?”

As they inched closer to the gate, Sova could smell blood. Eventually, he spotted the dead body of one of the fallen Ståljeger members in the corridor next to the gate. Cypher stopped for a moment to inspect the body, kneeling on the bloodied floor.

Her body was completely crushed, and her limbs were angled oddly. He could barely recognize her face; the mask used for her face was squished next to her head.

Anna, Sova thought. From the files that Cypher had sent to him. His lips thinned.

It was not a pretty sight. And it smelled awful too; something sickly sweet. Sova pulled up the collar of his cloak to filter out some of the smell.

“Squashed,” he tutted. “Death from above; no time to react. Mauled too. That’s quite a horrible way to go.”

“Anything of use?”

“I got another mag for my Phantom.” He stood up. “Other than that, none of what matters to me. Nothing we already don’t know.”

“Stay close,” the hunter repeated. “If she died here, then we could be next. The bear can be stealthy.”

They stepped around the body, ignoring how the blood stuck to the soles of his boots. They’d need to call for clean-up before Kingdom would get to them first.

Soon, they reached the broken enclosure on high alert. Glass shards crunched under their boots, and they stood for a moment to inspect the substance on the wall behind the broken glass.

The substance warped and shimmered before them, a mesmerizing show of glittering hues of purple and violet. It hummed and thrummed behind the broken glass, almost sounding like the howling wind outside. 

“Hm,” Cypher hummed beside him. “It looks similar to Gekko’s description of the teleportal he escaped from in Los Angeles.”

“To get his creatures?”

He nodded. “I need to take footage.”

“Fine. Don’t take too long.”

Sova heard his camera come to life, and he watched his back as the spy took footage of the broken enclosure.

He’d never admit this, but he did enjoy working with Cypher. During missions like this, the spy was more serious, and conversation flowed much smoother between him and Sova.

If only it was like that outside of the job.

He glanced at the man, who had his hands shoved into the broken glass, taking pictures and video recordings of the substance. Recently, he had developed a small crush on Cypher. He didn’t know how it surfaced or how long he was interested in him; the realization dawned on him after he caught himself staring for far longer than he hoped.

Nothing was going to happen though. So, Sova admired him from a distance. He was quite enjoyable to be around with when he wasn’t being a teasing little rat anyway.

“You’re staring,” Cypher called out.

“I’m watching your back,” he said smoothly.

“You’re burning holes in my back. But whatever.” He chuckled as he turned away from the broken enclosure, tucking his camera away. “I’d touch it, but I don’t think that’d be smart right now. But it’s definitely similar to what Gekko said.”

“Are you done?”

“Worry not, little owl,” he said rather casually. “I’ve taken what I needed.”

Sova ignored the pet name. Forget what he said just now.

The two pressed ahead. “We’re heading in the direction where I found her,” he whispered. “Wait.”

He held out his arm, and Cypher stopped walking. They stilled completely, their breathing slow and even, as their eyes saw turquoise glowing in the distance.

“The radivore,” he breathed, his voice incredibly faint. “It’s…”

“Eating,” the spy finished off.

They hurried to hide behind some pipes, peeking over the corner to keep watch of the bear. “The Kingdom scientist was in the room,” Sova said. “I wonder if it ate him first.”

“Wouldn’t it seek out radianite? Like Gekko’s creatures?”

“It’s still a bear, Cypher.” Despite the gravity of the situation, the hunter still sounded deadpan. “It’s been a day. It needs to eat. Even if people won’t fill it up, food is right there.”

They stilled once more when the bear tensed and turned towards their direction. They quickly ducked behind the pipes, holding their breaths, until they heard its wet eating resume.

“It might think we’re rats,” the spy whispered quickly. “For now.”

“I think it definitely knows we’re here,” Sova whispered back. “But it’s busy with food right now. It will catch up. It took down four people with guns. What's two more?”

“So, what’s the plan?”

“It’s probably weakened a bit since it’s been shot at. But…”

They watched the bear tear off a leg with ease, chewing down the clothed limb and swallowing it in just a few bites. It hacked out torn fabric, spitting it to the ground, and he made a face.

“If it’s anything like Gekko’s creatures, mere bullets won’t kill it,” Sova finished off. “At least, from what we have.”

“Your arrows?”

“It’s radianite tech. I’m not sure if it would absorb the energy it’ll make. But we shouldn’t fully rely on our bullets or gear. This is nothing like the beasts I’ve taken down. We’ve never fought a radivore this big before.”

Cypher discreetly pulled out his laptop as he spoke, making yet another small comment on how cold it was. Still, it turned on, and Sova turned away to keep an eye on the bear.

Sova had seen animals eat animals before, seen humans kill humans. He was a hunter after all; he had seen everything. Gore and blood were things he dealt with commonly, and he had become desensitized to them.

But there was something about the sight of an animal eating a human being, rather than another animal, that unnerved him.

Perhaps it was because of how easily it handled the body; how easily it ripped and tore it apart.

He grimaced, his face scrunching as his brow furrowed, and his lips curled into a slight frown at the gruesome sight. He turned away for a moment to look at Cypher.

“What are you doing?”

“Connecting to the systems here,” he muttered. “The containment software has been destroyed. Logs say data transfer for the bear was successful though.”

“Kingdom might think they’re still in the process of transporting the radivore.”

“It could explain why they haven’t gotten here yet.” He kept his focus on the screen before him. “I’m downloading the floor plan of the facility. We’re close to the extraction chambers.”

A heavy scrape on the floor got the two to whip their heads towards the bear. An Odin was pushed away with a low growl, and the bear continued to feast.

“Extraction?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.” He shut his laptop and returned it to his bag in one swift movement. “You got a plan for this bear?”

“We could lure it to where the extraction chambers are,” Sova mumbled, looking back at the bear. “Our position right now isn’t ideal for fighting the bear. I’m sure it’s smart — it’s a radivore, after all. If we try to distract it here, it won’t go after it. It’ll find the source.”

“There’s another way to the extraction chambers, though it’s a bit of a walk,” Cypher said. “We can take that route and take it from there.”

The two looked back at the bear. “It won’t be here by the time we get to the chambers,” he noted. “It’ll follow our scent.”

“If it’ll follow our smell, then maybe it’ll buy us time. Let’s go. Before the bear starts to move.”

They swiftly got back on their feet and abandoned the busy bear. Sova threw one last look at its glowing markings before he followed Cypher.

They anxiously paced through corridors, turning around and looking up on occasion. The hunter watched the spy’s back as Cypher led them through the long, monotonous passageways.

The two didn’t say anything. There was nothing to be said, and nothing needed to be said.

Soon enough, they spotted the room at the end of the corridor. They cautiously approached the area in complete silence, their breathing steady and quiet. Sova low-readied his Vandal, and Cypher did the same to his Phantom.

“Stay close.”

There wasn’t a tease from the spy as he stepped closer, which Sova was grateful for. There was a time and place for jokes, and now wasn’t the time.

They entered the room, and the first thing that caught their eye was the mangled corpse of the Kingdom scientist. Blood and viscera were splattered across the floor; shredded clothes were covered in gore, and the drying saliva of the bear.

The radivore’s first meal.

“Dorsey. God,” Sova muttered to himself. “I’ve seen many things, but that’s… that’s just bad.”

“I… I will admit, that’s gruesome,” Cypher said. “It’s a Kingdom employee, but that’s brutal.”

“Come on. Let’s see if the bear’s there.”

They made the silent agreement to ignore the body, expertly making their way around it. The smell, however, was thick and putrid, filling the room with something sickly sweet. It smelled the same as the first body they ran into, except the scent was much more intense around here.

It was too much, even for someone like Sova. He suppressed a gag, swallowing the bile that threatened to spill, and followed Cypher to the entrance, where the bear was last seen.

But it wasn’t there when they turned the corner.

“Shit,” the hunter muttered.

“As we suspected.”

“Do not leave my side. Stick with me; we need to scout the area.”

“I think I saw one of the chambers open. The reserves are powering this room too. We could trap it inside.”

“We’re here to kill it, Cypher, not trap it,” Sova gritted out, turning to face the spy. “We need to find a way to take it down.”

“You said it yourself: even you don’t know how to take down a radivore. This can buy us more time to regroup, to think. Unless you have a better idea?”

The two men stared at each other, with Sova’s gaze challenging the spy’s. The moment was broken when something dripped between them, splashing a glowing turquoise liquid on their boots.

“Move!”

They split as the radivore came falling from above, landing on the space where the two men were just standing. Its weight crashed onto the metal floor with a heavy thud, a guttural growl reverberating from its lungs. 

They took the opportunity to distance themselves from the bear, as it was momentarily stunned by the fall. Cypher took the moment to start shooting at the radivore, and Sova started to do the same.

He aimed his sights on the creature and fired, and the bear roared. Spittle flew from its mouth, its skin and fur lighting up with swirls of bright teal and turquoise as it regained its balance.

It jerked its head towards the closest aggravator and rushed towards the spy.

“Cypher!”

He watched as Cypher tried to dodge and run, but he was no match against the bear’s incredible speed. 

It was nothing like the polar bears Sova had seen, nothing compared to any animal he had fallen before.

It slammed against the spy in one sweep, sending him flying into some pipes lined against the wall. He let out a sharp yelp of pain, getting the wind knocked out of him, and fell limply onto the cold floor below.

Sova quickly nocked an arrow to his bow and shot at the bear. Electricity burst from the shock bolt as it hit the bear, causing the radivore to cry out from its current. He shot the remainder of his Vandal’s magazine towards the creature as it twitched from the shock, shooting a glance at Cypher’s unresponsive form.

The hunter’s eyes widened as he quickly reloaded his rifle with practiced efficiency. It turned to face the hunter with a snarl, two sets of intense turquoise eyes staring back at him. 

Seeing Sova as a bigger threat, it ditched Cypher’s limp body and charged towards him.

“Shit.”

He started to run.

Carrying his Vandal with one hand, he let his feet lead him around the area. He could feel the presence of the bear right behind him, and he could smell the horrid breath it puffed out. The ground shook as it chased after him, its claws scraping against metal.

Its heavy footsteps were getting closer, and closer, and closer to him.

Sova risked throwing a glance behind him, and he managed to duck his head as the bear swiped a massive claw towards him. He felt the air whisk right above his head, and he kept running, running towards the brightly lit chamber that Cypher mentioned just a minute ago.

He planned to stop right in front of the chamber and trick the bear into jumping in. But just as he turned the corner, the radivore pounced at him, shoving both of them into the cylindrical chamber.

The light inside the chamber was bright. It matched the eyes and the swirling scars of the bear. It looked medical— no, clinical.

Extraction chamber.

His thoughts were broken when it roared loudly. The light was obstructed by the bear that had pinned Sova underneath it.

Spit was splattered all over his body and his face, and he held his breath as its disgusting breath clouded the air around him. The noise made his ears ring, the white noise flooding his hearing, but he faced the bear.

With a snarl, he swiftly tugged a shock bolt from his quiver and stabbed the bear with it. 

Electricity sparked around them, and Sova clenched his jaw, suppressing the groan of pain that tried to escape its lips. His muscles tensed, and his body went rigid, but he had been shot at by his double’s shock bolts enough to recover quicker than the bear could.

Panting heavily, he quickly backed up while the radivore shook from the current, roughly aiming the muzzle of the Vandal towards the creature. He sprayed the magazine across its body, riddling its white-blue fur with bullet holes that barely seemed to bleed.

It growled and groaned from the impact of the bullets, and it swiped its paw at him again as he backed up.

Sova quickly rolled his head to the side, narrowly avoiding its sharp claws. He pulled out the hunting knife from his leg and slashed it against the creature’s arm, and it whined loudly from the sudden wound. 

It stalked towards him and swiped at him once more. Sova tried to roll to the side to dodge, but its claws were stretched far enough to leave deep gashes against his shoulder.

He screams in pain from the impact. A sudden flood of searing, white-hot pain shot from his shoulder. It felt like he could feel his heartbeat pulsing from the gashes; he could feel his blood rushing out of his wounds.

But his adrenaline hasn’t failed him yet. He stumbled backwards and swung his knife towards the bear, managing to hit its side. It roared and tripped, having one of its arms injured, just like Sova.

With the bear down, he scrambled to stand, trying to ignore the burning sensation on his left arm. He bolted out of the chamber with his Vandal in hand, and he pulled the lever next to the doors of the chamber.

The door started to close. He could hear the bear rise despite its injuries, growling at its attacker. It started to sprint towards the door with a charged guttural noise, but it recovered too late, as the door closed around its neck.

It thrashed around, snapping its jaws towards Sova once more. Its teeth managed to catch his left forearm, biting down hard, and he cried out in pain again. His Vandal dropped to the ground, his arm going limp.

He let go of the lever and thrusted his knife into the bear’s muzzle. It roared in agony, and it let go of his arm.

He stepped to the side to avoid any more injury, his right arm clinging onto his injured shoulder, and pointedly ignored the bear in the door.

Sova could feel the blood seeping into his clothes and his cloak. The edges of his vision were starting to blur and darken. He leaned against the wall, trying to stay awake, trying to keep his eyes open long enough to wait for whatever the green bars were trying to charge up.

But he couldn’t, no. The loss of blood was too much, and he kneeled to the ground. His breathing heaved, his vision blurred, and finally, he collapsed onto the floor.

He felt cold. So incredibly cold, from the blood on his clothes, to his injuries, to the chill in the room.

The bear was still thrashing against the door, trying to pry itself out. The light went green — he heard it buzz in completion — but he couldn’t reach it. He tried to push himself up, but the pain was too much, and he let himself fall.

Then suddenly, he heard the familiar shot of a Marshal, and he tilted his head to see Cypher laying on his stomach with the sniper rifle perched on a bipod.

“Cypher…” he slurred.

The creature roared, the sound echoing in the empty area. Sova could feel its warm drool hit his face, his arms. He looked up and saw that one of its eyes was shot through, with blood and the strange turquoise substance leaking from the socket.

It thrashed harder, desperate to escape. He could hear it snapping its jaw towards him, trying to defend itself one last time, trying to take something else down with it. The spy fired again, shooting a hole into its restless neck.

Cypher was buying him time, busying the bear with its own injuries so that he could stand.

Need to stand.

Mustering up the last remaining strength he had, Sova forced himself to stand, using the lever for support. He breathed heavily; he knew that if he let go of the lever, he would fall again. But he only had one good arm.

He shoved his body up, enough to force him to stand for a few glorious seconds, and slammed his right hand onto the green-lit button.

His body dropped not even a second later, plunging to the cold metal floors of the facility. He couldn’t catch himself; he couldn’t brace himself for the fall. But he managed to crawl away, far enough to steer clear of the open doors.

“Sova!”

Even though his vision was darkening, he could see the chamber activate. Whatever he did, he heard it power up for a second before teal-turquoise flames erupted from the open doors.

Teal. Turquoise. Bright, blinding, dancing, and merging with one another. It almost looked white. Maybe blue around the edges of the flames?  

No matter. He didn’t — or couldn’t — even hear the bear react to the detonation. The deafening sound of the bursting fire drowned out whatever it had to say.

His vision was splotching black, the clothes on his body clinging to his sweaty skin. White noise rang in his ears, joining in with the cacophony of the chamber’s flames and his desperate gasps for air.

Hurt. Couldn’t move. Hard to breathe. Burns.

Sova’s wounds burned. Fuck, they burned. So much that it almost felt icy, spreading across his entire arm and shoulder. The adrenaline had dissipated, and all he could feel right now was the stinging sensation of the gashes, the clammy feeling of blood leaking where it wasn’t supposed to be leaking. 

His head and his heart thumped hard against their cages, trying to keep him conscious, trying to keep him alive. And Sova was trying hard to grant his own body his wishes, but to no avail. He needed to rest. He needed to close his eyes.

Needed to move. Needed to find Cypher. Where was he? Is he okay?

The bursting flames soon died off. He could tell without needing to see it. The heat was gone. The gusts of air were gone.

“Sova!” he heard Cypher call out again.

Stumbling footsteps approached him, and he weakly called out for the spy before letting the sweet darkness overtake him.

— — —

Cold.

The blanket around him was thin. Way too thin. Like a bedsheet was simply spread over his body. The cold seeped through the fabric easily, and Sova shivered from the chill contact against his skin.

But there was something else weighing the blanket down. Something thicker and warmer covered his torso, and it ended where his knees were.

Head hurts. Dizzy.

He opened his eyes. He blinked blearily to regain his sight, but it was no use as it was nearly pitch black around him. He saw nothing but a faint light coming from the corner of the room on his left.

Once his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he realized that he was not home. Not yet anyway. The room didn’t look like the med bays in the headquarters. But it didn’t look like any of the rooms they saw in the facility either.

Body was sore. Ached. Deep breaths— no, no. That hurt.

He closed his eyes and sighed heavily, sinking into the mattress. Where am I?

“What do… you can’t come?”

An angry and rather harsh tone caught his attention. His eyes shot open, and he looked towards the direction of the voice.

Someone was in the corner of the room, huddled over the light — one of the flashlights they had, he noticed. The light was at its lowest setting, probably to preserve the batteries, so Sova couldn’t exactly see who the figure was. He was wearing all black.

He was speaking angrily at… something. An earpiece, perhaps? He thought he saw the familiar shape of a radio, but he wasn’t sure.

The man’s voice was hushed. Muffled, and his voice wavered unevenly, in and out of his ears. The radio was choppy too.

Cypher?

Sova saw that a laptop was spread open. There were other things spread around on the floor too; an organized set of cords sprawled and connected various devices.

Who was he talking to?

“Sova… stuck in this facility…. injured, severely, might I add! — no, he needs medical attention. I’m … care for someone with…”

Ah. Cypher. He was okay, at least. At least one of them was okay. Cypher, who was in the corner of a dark room, muttered angrily at whoever was on the end of the line.

Coatless. Hatless too. It was no wonder he didn’t recognize him at first.

The hunter exhaled loudly through his nose. He couldn’t really hear anything. Did the blast kill his hearing? He hoped it didn’t. He’d rather not have another part of his body replaced.

“… blizzard? Safety hazard? … can handle a blizzard! You… aren’t… here for long… to do is pick us up!”

Cypher was being too loud. Way too loud for his liking. He was loud, and he couldn’t even understand him. He wasn’t even being loud either. But for some reason, he was loud.

Maybe it was because of how vacant and quiet the room was.

His voice pounded around his head; his too empty head. He couldn’t think. Not while Cypher was still talking. 

His head was muddled, muffling the conversation into barely comprehensible gibberish.

“… no power in the facility, Brimstone,” the spy muttered. Though Sova couldn’t listen, he sounded like his patience was running thin. “The reserves…. from annihilating the… Thanks to Sova.”

Did that sound bitter? Sarcastic? Maybe Cypher was just frustrated, and it wasn’t because the bear was burned to a crisp. There was no way a radivore could survive that.

What even was the fire?

“We need aid… not sure how long… hold out. A blizzard… Hello? Brimstone?”

“Cypher,” he finally rasped. “Cypher?”

He tried to sit up, to try to reorient himself, and perhaps to listen in better. A sudden stinging sensation burst from his left arm, causing him to gasp sharply and drop back down on the bed. His fingers clenched the sheets.

Right.

His body ached, and his legs were sore. His left arm burned from the sudden movement, an icy chill pulsing across his skin. Something was inside his wounds, soft to the touch, yet it shifted in him uncomfortably.

Sova was cold now. Too cold, now that the blanket and whatever weight was on him slid off. His cloak— wait.

Why was he shirtless?

Cypher muttered some final words to the earpiece, and he rushed towards Sova. “You’re awake,” he said.

“You’re loud,” he said back. “Are you okay?”

“Sorry.” The spy was adjusting the pillow behind his bed. It was nice of him to do so. “How are you?”

“Ugh,” Sova grunted.

Cypher chuckled at his response. “Fair enough. Sorry for waking you; I was contacting HQ. Again.”

“I heard, I think. Couldn’t—” Cypher accidentally grazed his hand across his bandaged shoulder, and he winced. “Couldn’t really — ack — understand.”

“There’s a blizzard outside the facility right now.” The spy tucked the blanket back on his torso. “They can’t come right now because it’s a safety hazard. I believe it’s a puny excuse, but Brimstone is refusing to send help until it calms down.”

Cypher was talking too fast for his liking. His brain was still hazy, still trying to regroup itself. But he understood what he said, he thought. “So we’re stuck here?”

“Until the blizzard calms down, yes.”

Sova saw that the unfamiliar weight was actually the spy’s own coat. Cypher looked silly without a coat on, his shirt skin-tight.

He blended in with the darkness quite well, if one ignored his out-of-place, piercing mechanical eyes.

“Why am I shirtless? Where are my clothes?”

“I had to take them off to tend to your wounds. I dragged you to one of the medical bays—”

“What?”

“— and I found some supplies stashed away. I used some gauze from your toolbelt too. I had to take your cloak off and cut up your shirt so I could properly clean your injuries.” He gestured to the area where his gear was set up. Next to his gear bag, all of Sova’s belongings were organized neatly. “I had to pack your wounds. They’re cut really deep; the bear did a number on you.”

“Can you slow down? My head’s killing me.”

“Sorry.” He sounded slightly sheepish. Apologetic even. “I dragged us to a med bay. I found supplies to bandage your wounds.”

“How— you dragged me?”

“With struggle.” Cypher sighed. “You’re quite heavy.”

“Thanks,” he said dryly.

“And I wasn’t in the most ideal shape.”

“Right.” Sova remembered how the radivore slammed itself against the spy, how his body bent around the pipes he hit. “Sorry.”

“Now, why are you apologizing?” he tutted. “I don’t mind. Really. Besides, the med bay wasn’t far from the extraction chambers, thankfully.”

“You didn’t answer my question earlier.”

“Hm?”

“Are you alright?”

“Fine. I’m fine,” he said quickly. “It stings to move, and my entire body’s sore, but I can manage.”

“You should rest.”

“I have been resting, after I patched you up.”

“Cypher. Come on.”

The spy stared at him, like he was trying to figure out what to say. Then he sighed, his shoulders slacking.

“I’ll push a bed closer to you.”

And he went to do just that, and Sova went to settle himself on the mattress. He tried not to move too much in fear of shooting pain from his left side again. At least it was somewhat comfortable.

Another bed rolled closer to Sova's, and Cypher sat down. Though he didn’t lay on the bed like he expected him to, instead he stared over the hunter’s form. 

“Lie down, Cypher,” Sova said.

“It’s fine,” he said. He brought his knees to his chest and curled into a ball, his mechanical eyes peeking over his kneecaps. “I’m resting.”

“You’re barely wearing anything. Aren’t you freezing? You were complaining about the cold a while ago.”

“I’m not the one who’s half-naked.”

“Well, that’s not my fault,” he huffed. “Take your coat back and keep yourself warm.” 

“Absolutely not! You deserve— no, you need warmth much more than I do right now.”

They lapsed into silence. It was sort of awkward, with Sova staring into the dark, empty ceiling and Cypher staring down on him. Occasionally, the spy blinked, the blue light of his eyes flickering as he did so.

In times like these, a small part of Sova wished that he and Cypher were on more friendly terms. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so awkward to be stuck in a room with him. But here they were, alone together, with nothing to talk about.

How he garnered a small crush on the spy was beyond him if their relationship was like this.

But he was getting rather uncomfortable with the atmosphere. So, he asked, “What… happened? After I passed out.” 

Beside him, Cypher shifted. “After the chamber died off, I ran to you. Activating that thing killed off the rest of the reserves,” he said. “The power shut down. Even the floodlights. The entire facility's dead.”

“Not surprising,” Sova mumbled. “The chamber went off for a while.”

“You’re lucky I could see in the dark. You were bleeding; goodness, there was so much blood,” he continued. “The room caught fire. I had to get you out.”

“The room caught fire?”

“I mean, the doors were open when it activated. Anyways, I-I bandaged you roughly just to slow the bleeding down and dragged you through a hall to get us here. I’m surprised you even woke up.”

“What about you?”

Cypher sounded surprised. “What about me?”

“Your injuries.”

“I toughed it out. I had to. For both of our sakes.”

“Cypher…”

“Oh, Sova. Don’t worry about me,” he said, dismissing it. The hunter’s face scrunched in concern. “It’s nothing compared to, you know, dying.”

“Still.”

“After I dragged us here and got you to bed, I managed to contact HQ,” the spy continued, indicating the end of that conversation. “I contacted Sage first, so I could get instructions on how to care for your wounds.”

The feeling he felt inside his wounds was gauze. “You packed them."

“I did. It’s not a pretty sight. But I’ve done it before. I think you need stitches, though.”

“I figured.”

“She tried to transfer the call to Brimstone, but then communications between us and HQ were suddenly cut. I spent the next hour or so trying to reconnect. Which eventually led to the recent conversation between me and our dear commander.”

“Mm.”

“He said the blizzard is a safety hazard. The VLT/R is more than capable of navigating such weather. But our communications were cut again, no doubt by the storm, and now we’re here.”

“Frustrating.”

“Isn’t it?” Cypher exclaimed. He sure sounded frustrated. “He sends us, of all people, to kill the blasted radivore. I mean, I get you, but me? I take down people of varying authorities and power, not… not beasts!”

Sova smiled oddly at that statement. “I know you do.”

“And he sends only two people to kill the bear, not a strike team. He really had a lot of faith in us.”

“I mean, we did kill it.”

“You killed it. And look what good that did you.” He sounded angry when he said that. “You need medical attention immediately. The man sends us on a mission like this, then doesn’t immediately call for backup when needed. ‘Wait for the blizzard to pass.’ Hah.”

“There’s no use repeating the statement,” Sova mumbled. “What’s said was said.”

Cypher huffed in response. “I admire your ability to stay calm towards our commander,” he said, his voice much quieter. “Sometimes he tests my patience.”

“I can’t afford to be mad right now anyway.” The hunter breathed deeply, and pain sparked all over his body. He winced and closed his eyes. “All we can do is wait.”

Silence overtook the two once more. The sound of the radio’s static was faint from the corner of the room; there still wasn’t a stable enough signal to talk to the headquarters.

“Don’t sleep on me. Try to stay awake,” the spy said, causing his eyes to snap open.

Even in the darkness, Sova could see that Cypher was freezing. He was shivering, and he balled up a little tighter. His fists were clenched shut.

“You should get more blankets,” the hunter said. “You shouldn’t suffer from the cold.”

A few beats passed, and the spy stood from the bed beside him to walk away. Sova watched him go to every single bed in the med bay and pluck the blankets off of them before returning to his side.

“Do you need any more pillows?”

He thought about it for a moment. “No.”

“Okay. Scoot.”

“What?” 

“I’m freezing,” the spy said. “You probably are too.”

“Are-are you implying what I think you’re implying?” Cypher nodded. “We are not cuddling.”

“Oh, please, Sova. It’s not ideal, but sharing body heat is better than sharing none at all. And these blankets are thin.”

He sounded serious, and Sova sighed softly through his nose at the request. But his annoyance was quickly dismissed, because he was right.

He was cold; they both were. And Sova owed him for dragging him and patching him up while he himself was injured. 

And — though he’d never admit this — he’d rather have whatever this was than the weird, serious atmosphere the room was holding. Perhaps it would lighten the mood.

He wordlessly shifted to move, biting back a groan from the pain shooting all over his body. The spy rushed to help him make some room. Cautious, careful hands helped guide his left arm, his body, and for a brief second, he forgot it was Cypher helping him.

But when he felt the chill of the room when Cypher took off the blanket and coat, it grounded him back to reality, and he tensed.

“Sorry,” the spy said. “I’m going to spread the coat out under the blankets instead.”

Sova only grunted in response. A puff of air whisked to his socked toes as Cypher shook out the coat over his body before laying it on his torso.

The coat was thick in contrast to the thin blankets; it was fur-lined rather than cotton or polyester. It was soft, expensive; well-worth-the-money expensive.

It smells like him too.

The spy piled blanket after blanket on top of the hunter, as if he was a sandwich. It was strange to watch him care for Sova so delicately; to put him over himself. He softened at the sight.

Maybe there was a moment in the past where Cypher treated him like this that made him attracted to him.

Then Cypher slid underneath all of those blankets to lie down on his right. The mattress sank beside him, and the spy snuggled up against him with no hesitation.

Sova felt the tips of his ears burn from the contact. Cypher unknowingly fed fuel to his growing attraction.

“I feel like I should have a shirt on,” he said, thinking aloud.

“I’m not letting you wear that bloody cloak and jacket, little owl,” he said back. The nickname didn't sound teasing, however. “And I cut your shirt up to access your wounds.”

The hunter sighed. “Unless you want mine,” Cypher teased in a low murmur.

The first thought was that Sova was bigger than him. His shirt would not fit him, and he’d probably tear it if he tried to.

Then Sova imagined Cypher’s lean body, his shirtless form; how his skin must’ve been bruised dark red, yellow, and purple. He must be bloodied too, from his own blood and from Sova’s.

A slight heat flushed to his cheekbones as he thought of another man’s bare body, even if it was his coworker. He quickly diminished the image. Thinking of another man bloodied and bruised and feeling some kind of way was messed up, even for him.

But the blush lingered on his face regardless.

“N-no thanks,” he answered, and mentally slapped himself for letting his voice waver like that. “You’re bluffing anyway.”

Cypher chuckled beside him, sounding triumphant at how he got him to stammer. “Suit yourself.”

Despite the awkward moment, Sova must admit, he was starting to feel warmer already, from the coat to the multitude of blankets on them, to the spy’s body heat. It made the situation more tolerable…

… If he ignored the fact that he was shirtless with his workplace crush snuggling against his body. Sova felt much more awake because of it.

The mood had lightened up from their previous interaction though. No longer did the air around them feel solemn. But now he felt awkward. He didn’t know if he preferred this more or not.

“Comfortable, Sova?” the spy asked genuinely. “Your arm’s okay?”

“As okay as it can get.”

The spy squished himself closer to Sova’s body, practically curling himself against his side. The hunter’s better arm was starting to go numb, and he removed his arm to place it under Cypher’s head.

“Oh! How lovely,” Cypher commented with a laugh. He gratefully laid on his bicep and inched himself closer. “Quite romantic.”

“Shut up.”

Cypher was still shivering beside him. He ended up throwing a leg over his legs and splaying an arm across his torso, as if he was trying to rob more of his already limited warmth.

Now the two were in a half-spoon position. If Sova wasn’t blushing already, then he definitely was now.

He wasn’t sure if he was heating up from his flushed body or from the blankets atop him. Either way, it helped warm him, so he couldn’t necessarily complain about it if it was the former. 

Cypher’s leg curled further, trying to get snug. He shrugged off how his heart skipped a beat.

“Too much?” the spy murmured.

“It’s fine. I’m getting warmer.”

“Good. See? It’s helping.”

“I didn’t say anything against it,” he countered.

He tried to focus on something else. Anything, aside from the fact that his left arm was severely injured, his body was aching all over, and that the coworker he thought he didn’t really like was snuggled up beside him.

He guessed this was why he was more lenient of Cypher’s today — why he accepted his request to exchange body heat. Attraction was weird.

Eventually, Sova managed to calm himself down. He could feel the effects of sharing each other’s body heat. He felt much better than he did earlier, and it wasn’t because his wounds had been tended to.

“This is… nice,” he said tentatively. “Soothing, somehow.”

“It is,” the spy mumbled. “I haven’t done this in a while.”

“In a while?” he questioned.

“With a person, I mean.”

Sova heard how quiet his voice went, and he changed the subject somewhat. “I didn’t take you as a cuddler.”

“Surprised?”

“No, actually.” He gave him a sideways glance. “I can see it. It suits you, in a way.”

“You’ve thought of cuddling me?”

He blushed, and Cypher snickered. He rolled his eyes, feigning innocence. “Not what I meant,” he muttered. “I’m trying to say that it fits your character, I think.”

“Now, what makes you say that?”

“You’re teasing. And playful at times. For some reason, I can’t imagine you sleeping like a plank.”

“So, you do think of cuddling me.”

“Goodness, no,” he said, exasperated, and Cypher laughed beside him. “I think of a pillow. Not a person.”

“Well, you’re right regardless,” the spy hummed. “I do cuddle in my sleep. Pillow or not.”

“What was that? Cypher’s telling me what happens behind those bedroom doors?”

It was Sova’s turn to tease him, and he did relish how the spy made a surprised noise. A satisfied smile appeared on his face. 

“Don’t say it like that,” he groaned. “No one would believe you anyway.”

The hunter couldn’t help but pull him closer. “Don’t worry, Cypher. Your secret’s safe with me.”

“You poke fun at me, yet you’re the one who put his arm under my head. And pulling me closer too.”

“You were squishing my arm, Cypher. I’d rather keep at least one of my limbs, thanks.”

“Who’s the one who agreed to do this?”

He rolled his head to face him. “Who suggested it to begin with?”

They stared intensely into each other’s eyes, challenging each other, much like what they did before the radivore fell from above.

Then Sova closed his eyes and turned away, facing the ceiling once more. “Whatever,” he said. He unconsciously held him tighter. “This is mutually beneficial. It’s warmer this way.”

“Ah, Sova. I knew you’d come around.”

“We’re both the reason why we’re in this position.” He paused. “And I’ve been coming around.”

“Sure, sure,” he chuckled.

Cypher nuzzled closer, his arm curling on his chest and his leg hooking over his own. A quiet grunt was made while he tried to make himself — and the hunter — comfortable. He didn’t seem like he was comfortable.

He tried to ignore how his stomach fluttered from their position.

He’s still freezing. While Sova had been covered, whether it be blankets, coats, or the spy, Cypher was the most exposed out of the two of them. 

Only then did the hunter notice that the coat covered his own body the most, while it barely covered Cypher’s. The blankets, despite being stacked atop each other, were still practically useless against the cold.

Sova moved his hand to reach over the coat. He snagged a sleeve and pulled it towards the spy’s body, trying to cover him up more. He then cupped his hand around the spy’s shoulder, trying to spare him some warmth.

“Mm,” the spy hummed, seemingly content. “You’re so sweet, little owl. Look at you, trying to keep me warm too. Aren’t you a dear?”

“I’m simply returning the favour,” he said. “You look miserable. I don’t want you to freeze to death.”

“I’m not complaining. I do like it.”

“I’d do this to anyone.”

“Even Reyna?”

He snorted. “I think Reyna would rather freeze than propose to do this,” he said, patting his shoulder. “Hell, I’m surprised you even offered to do this.”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures. We need each other right now.”

“So, you’d ask anyone if you were that desperate?” Sova reflected.

“W-well,” he stammered, “no. I’d offer this to the younger agents, perhaps, but not just anyone.”

He smirked. “What makes me an exception?”

“You’re injured,” he stated. “And we’re both trapped underground in a snowy environment. Such conditions are suitable for this scenario.”

“So, if Breach was in my position instead, would you still offer this?”

“Er, no…”

“What’s so special about me then, Cypher?”

Sova could tell that he had trapped him, and it was his turn to be triumphant. He turned and gave him a small but cheeky smile.

“You know what? I accept my defeat,” the spy said resolutely. “You got me there.”

“You like snuggling up against me?”

“Your company is nice, yes.”

“I’m special, then?”

“I didn’t say that.”

He chuckled. “I know, I know. I’m just teasing you.”

“And it’s not like we get into situations like this that often to consider cuddling each other for warmth,” he started to say. “This was supposed to be a one-and-done mission. Kill the bear, then go home. You’d think we’d be prepared for a blizzard.”

“The weather reports didn’t say anything about a blizzard, just heavy snow.”

“Even if it did, we have an aircraft that can endure harsh weather conditions,” he grumbled. “I really don’t get why Brimstone didn’t just send it over. Now we’re stuck here for who knows how long, with you slowly bleeding out and my insides being killed.”

Cypher’s irritation was coming back. It seemed that topic from earlier, including the conversation with Brimstone, became a sore subject for the spy. He didn’t know how, but Sova did empathize with him.

He could imagine the stress he had put upon himself, from trivializing his own injuries to staying awake for both of their sakes, to the headquarters being unreachable. It was understandably frustrating. Giving him some warmth was the least he could do.

And he agreed with him too. The VLT/R was more than capable of handling a blizzard. He wondered why they didn’t send it out.

The spy sighed. “I just want to get out,” Cypher said pointedly. “Now that I’m resting, I can feel how exhausted my body is.”

“Tired of me already?” he asked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Quite the opposite,” he said, changing his tone to a lighter manner. “I like this side of you. Teasing, joking. Not the stoic, serious Sova I see all the time. Good company, not that you weren’t ever good company.”

“Hey, I’m not like that all the time.”

“Sure. But no one’s seen you cuddly before,” he teased. “Don’t worry, little owl. Your secret’s safe with me.”

He rolled his eyes at the echoed sentiment, but he smiled regardless. “Maybe you should stay injured more often, Sova,” he continued in a joking manner. “The protocol should send us to more missions like this.”

“You’re cruel.”

Cypher’s fingers curled around the collar of his jacket and pulled it up, trying to cover more of Sova’s torso. The coat was halfway up his neck now, and he lolled his head slightly to stay comfortable.

He closed his eyes. The position was a little uncomfortable, but manageable. He often slept on his side, and he also usually cuddled a pillow when he slept. And he wasn’t going to start nuzzling his face against Cypher’s to try to sleep, as tempting as it was.

He didn’t know how many minutes had passed when the spy gently slapped his face. He blinked awake.

“Don’t sleep on me now,” he murmured, his voice serious. “I need you to stay awake.”

The spy’s hand slithered up to hold the side of his neck, and the hunter’s breath hitched for a moment. He was about to ask what he was doing when he felt two fingers press against his pulse point.

Of course.

“Your heartbeat’s slowing down,” he said, concerned. “When are they getting here?”

Sova focused on the radio. He still heard nothing other than static. “It’s fine, Cypher,” he said. “I mean, Sage can just revive me, if ever.”

“It’s easier for our healers to handle wounds than it is to bring someone back to life.”

His hand moved to skim across his bandaged shoulder, slowly brushing aside his hair. Though his touch was light, the wounds were still very fresh and sensitive, and Sova discreetly gasped.

Or tried to anyway.

“Sorry,” Cypher said. “I’m going to need to replace those gauzes in a bit.”

The hunter’s lips thinned. He’d gotten his wounds packed before, way before he even joined the protocol, but he always felt discomfort whenever he had to do it.

“How long was I out anyway?” Sova asked.

“A few hours.”

“Then hopefully we’re heading back by the time that happens,” he said with distaste.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you like getting your wounds packed?” Cypher teased.

“No one does,” he answered seriously through clenched teeth. “I can manage it, but that doesn’t mean I like it. Even I have limits.”

“Do you now?” Cypher countered. “You seem to overextend that limit quite often.”

Sova was momentarily stunned by the sudden confrontation. His brow furrowed. “Why say that? You do the same thing,” he said, clipped.

Was he trying to get a rise out of him? At this time? They seemed to be having a moment too. 

“Mm.” The spy snuggled closer to him. He could feel the cold in the fabric of his clothing. “You do more field work than I do. I’d say your job is much more labouring than mine.”

“I have no choice. It’s what we’re supposed to do — to defy the limits.”

“Of course, you have a choice. Everyone has a choice. Not everyone in the protocol works as hard as you do.”

“I don’t see you making that choice either.”

“I’ve seen how the protocol treats you,” Cypher said. “They overwork you, place so much pressure on your shoulders, and expect the best of the best results every time.”

“It’s my job, Cypher.”

“Is it? To be overworked? To stay above expectations?”

“We are VALORANT, Cypher. We have to. It was never an easy job.”

“And because of it, the others hold a certain standard, a certain expectation of you. And you need to keep it up; you can’t risk disappointing them; you can’t risk ruining your legacy.”

Sova’s brow stayed furrowed in slight confusion, frowning lightly. Where did this come from?

“It gets to the point where you get so mentally exhausted that even the others who joke about your work ethic get concerned,” he continued.

“Cypher…”

“Then they send you off to a place with a loose radivore not once, but twice, when we barely have any knowledge on how to take it down.”

The hunter trailed off, going quiet. He heard him sigh despite the mask, and he felt him shake his head. “You defy the limits. It gets you killed. And then you do it all over again. Pursue. Die. Get revived. Repeat. It doesn’t end.”

Sova didn’t know how to react. “Never in my life did I think I’d get desensitized of my own death. To go through everything again. But alas,” he finished off. “We are VALORANT.”

He had heard him rant before, but not like this. Never like this. It practically came out of nowhere.

It was a sudden display of strange vulnerability, the type where it didn’t stop flowing once it came out. How he spoke, how the words spilled easily from his lips, showed him that he had been holding it in for a long, long time.

There was something there that made Sova… feel for him more. Something foreign and unfamiliar came from the spy’s words and his frustrated tone. A message within a message.

“… You sound very worked up about me, you know,” he mumbled. He rolled his head to face him. “And I don’t think it’s just me you’re talking about.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Cypher said almost immediately.

Silence stretched between the two, and the spy stood from the bed. The mattress slowly sprung back, and Sova could immediately feel the loss of his presence beside him.

“I’m going to change your bandages,” he said.

Sova didn’t reach after him, nor did he try to ask him to come back. He knew he was trying to avoid the conversation.

He returned to staring at the empty ceiling, feeling the empty space beside him, as Cypher rummaged through cabinets and counters for medical supplies.

Soon enough, he returned with what was needed. He gingerly pulled away the layers that covered Sova’s arm, and he tensed from the sudden hit of cold.

He had surgical gloves over his usual ones. At least he was trying to be sanitary.

“Ready?” he asked.

The hunter nodded, saying nothing.

He watched as Cypher started to remove the tape around the outer dressing on his shoulder, seeing his skin stick to the adhesive.

The spy pulled off the bloodied outer dressing and— oh.

Gross.

“Turn away for me.”

He did so willingly. Sova didn’t want to see it anyway. He’d seen enough gore today.

He inhaled sharply as the soiled gauze was pulled off of his wounds. They were packed dry, he noted, and he could feel the cotton scraping against the walls of his skin.

He clenched his jaw, closing his eyes as he tried to even his breathing. To focus on something else.

“No wetting solution or painkillers, I’m afraid. I’d rather not risk it. They’ve all gone bad.” He simply grunted in response. “Bite on my coat if it’s too much.”

The spy carefully wiped off the blood that had spread across his skin with water. It was freezing, but it wasn't like they had a choice.

Sova let out a strained breath as Cypher packed a long ribbon of gauze into one of the gashes. His fist clenched, the sheets balling up in his hand. He screwed his eyes shut, his brow furrowing, and he sneered from the pain.

Burns, he thought. Stings.

They stayed there in silence as the spy replaced his gauze and dressings one by one. Sova didn’t realize how deep his wounds had gotten until he was awake to get them packed.

He debated on taking up the offer of biting the coat when a cotton bud brushed against exposed flesh. But he decided against it.

“I’d be a hypocrite to tell you that you don’t have to suffer alone,” Sova said suddenly, “when I myself don’t reach out for help.”

Cypher said nothing, focusing on the task at hand. He heard scissors snipping, and a splash below the bed as he dropped the wet rag into a bowl of water.

“But maybe we don’t have to suffer alone,” he continued. “We could have each other. We can rely on one another.”

“How would that work?” he finally said, not looking up from his wounds. “You and I aren’t close. Even I would admit that.”

Sova flinched and winced as he started to pack another wound. He wondered how bloody and soaked his soiled gauzes were. He stayed looking away.

“I-I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “But it’s better to share our struggles than to keep them inside. We… share the same sentiment, so to speak. About our troubles with the protocol.”

Cypher’s fingers were quick, prodding the inside of his wounds with a cotton bud. He could feel it — and it stung — but soon enough, an outer dressing was being taped over the bear bite.

A hand lingered on the bandaged wound, its fingers twitching for a second.

“We’re not ones to openly express how we really feel. We put on a face for the protocol. We have to,” Sova said. “They rely on us. We could rely on them too, but that’s a big step for people like you and me.”

The spy pulled off his surgical gloves and dumped them somewhere on the ground. He carefully covered his arm with the coat and blankets once more.

“So, we can have each other. For now. Until we’re ready to admit that we need a break. Or help,” he finished off. “Defy our limits. Be vulnerable.”

Cypher then walked around the bed to slide underneath the covers. He returned to curling himself beside him, wordlessly putting himself back into that half-spoon position.

He didn’t say anything for a while. Sova swallowed thickly.

“Or-or maybe not. I don’t know. I’m not thinking straight,” he said, unsure. “Forget I said anything.”

Cypher still said nothing, and the hunter was starting to feel a little anxious. He had probably overstepped his boundaries with those words, breaking the already fragile line between the two of them.

A yawn broke out of Sova’s mouth, and he closed his eyes. He blinked blearily. He was incredibly tired; his entire body was sore from running and rolling, and it ached whenever he shifted the slightest.

A break. He hadn’t gotten a break in a while, now that Cypher had talked about his workload. He could feel the gauze inside of his flesh; he was acutely aware of the stickiness of the tape on his skin. The consequences of venturing into unknown territory; facing the unknown.

The fingers on his chest tightened around themselves. He wasn’t sure if Cypher was awake. He deserved to rest if he was. It was his turn to stay awake, just in case the radio burst to life.

“I don’t know how to be vulnerable,” the spy said quietly, breaking the silence. He gave him a sideways glance. “I can’t afford to be vulnerable.”

He pondered for a second. “You were being vulnerable when you ranted. You’re being vulnerable right now by admitting that.”

“I guess I am, am I?” he chuckled.

“And, in a sense, I guess I was being vulnerable for agreeing with you. For offering you, uh, my company. To help each other out.”

“Why would you offer something like that, Sova?”

“We need each other,” the hunter echoed. “We understand each other.”

“You don’t know me.”

“I don’t. But I could. I see myself in you, I guess,” Sova said. “What you said made me realize how true it is; I’ve just been trying to avoid it. It’s not very healthy, isn’t it? Running away from your problems. Especially since these problems concern our own wellbeing.”

Cypher sighed in response. His leg shifted, and the spy inched closer to him. He swallowed thickly. 

Sova stared at the ceiling as they laid there. Then he glanced at Cypher. His eyes were closed.

Maybe he overstepped. He shouldn’t have said anything at all; he probably made it worse by continuing to talk. Things were going fine. Now he wouldn’t say anything, or if he did, he’d probably avoid the whole conversation.

Like what he usually did.

“That’d be nice, I think,” Cypher said suddenly. He was thinking. “Your offer. Even if we’re not close.”

Before he could stop himself, he went, “We could be.”

Sova immediately shut his mouth. The spy breathed out a laugh beside him, a startled response.

“You’re not like this, Sova,” he teased. “Talking like this. Offering me something like that.”

“I’m not thinking straight,” he excused.

“Mm. Maybe you’re not,” he huffed. “But I guess I’m not either.”

Gloved fingers fleeted across his exposed skin, stopping to feel the medical tape on his shoulder. It was a little raised. Sova tensed from the gesture, inhaling deeply.

A finger was gently pushed down along the line of tape, pressing the adhesive to his skin. He winced from the slight pain in the area, trying to ignore the pulse from his touch.

He let out a quiet breath. Sova didn’t know if it was from the pain or from his touch.

“I’m curious, Sova.”

“Yes?”

His fingers threaded through his hair, and they slid off from the ends. Blond locks fell to his chest. “Are you interested in anyone right now?”

“I— what?” he said, taken aback by both the question and the gesture. “Where did that come from?”

“I’m just wondering if this little owl has another driving force for that offer,” Cypher whispered. 

Cypher’s voice was low and hushed, like they were exchanging a secret. He thought about it, and he should say no. What he felt towards the spy was nothing but a little crush.

Right?

Sova could feel his blush intensifying. The layers on him were suddenly suffocating, suddenly too warm for his liking. He could feel those mechanical eyes boring into him, trying to read his expressions.

Much like what he did to the spy earlier, Sova got caught in his trap. He shuffled uncomfortably. He could blame his actions and his words on delirium.

“I’m not answering that question,” he said.

Cypher shrugged, still toying with his hair. “I thought we’re all about vulnerability?” he said casually.

“Not-not like that,” he said, his voice rising in embarrassment.

“I’m teasing, Sova.” Cypher slid a hand to his neck once more, resting just underneath his jawline with his thumb touching his cheek. Sova inhaled deeply. “I think I know the answer to that anyway.”

The hunter turned his head to face him. He was met with the spy’s calculating stare, those bright blue mechanical eyes staring right into his soul.

He could sense that he still wanted an answer, for him to admit it. Cypher wasn’t dumb; he was smarter than that, more perceptive. Sova then felt stupid for exposing himself like this. Being in this state was doing him more harm than good.

But when he looked into his eyes, an odd sense of intimacy rushed through his body. 

He had never been this close to Cypher. The thumb on his cheek gave him an experimental caress.

Warm.

“You’re not stupid,” Sova said in a whisper, challenging him. “What do you think?”

Mechanical eyes blinked at him, and the spy tilted his head just a little closer, as if he was going to say something. Whatever it was, Sova was ready, whether it was rejection or…

The radio in the corner of the room burst to life. Cypher sat up immediately, his hand sliding off of his neck, and Skye’s familiar voice broke through the static.

“Guys?” she said. “Are you guys still alive?”

The spy jumped off the bed, nearly tripping over nothing. He watched him stumble to the radio.

“Shit, I think they’re either dead or knocked out.”

“No, no, no, I’m here, I’m here,” Cypher said hurriedly, plugging the earpiece into his ear. “We’re both here.”

Sova could no longer hear the chatter from the radio; it was being said over the earpiece now. The spy sounded relieved, and he was speaking quickly to the earpiece, too fast for Sova to catch.

He let himself sink into the mattress with a sigh. For some reason, he was a little disappointed that they were interrupted. The moment was something he had thought about when he let his mind devolve. He wanted it to last.

Maybe it was for the best though, before they both said something they’d regret later on. But he wished to feel his hand on his cheek again.

Cypher returned to his side not long after. “They’re coming,” he said. “I told them to meet us here. They have our coordinates.”

Sova only hummed in response. “I told them that you’re not in a state to walk,” he continued. “Otherwise, we’d meet them on the surface.”

“You’re not in a state to walk either,” the hunter said.

Cypher sat cross-legged by his right, his thigh pressing against his shoulder. His fingers combed through his hair, evening out his hairstyle, and his fingertips got caught between long locks of hair.

It was a soothing gesture. He closed his eyes.

“About earlier…” the spy said, trailing off.

“Don’t worry about it,” Sova mumbled. 

“No. I’m being vulnerable here.”

He kept his eyes closed, afraid to look at him. He felt Cypher’s presence loom over him, his head hovering over his.

“I think your attraction will not go to waste, little owl,” he murmured. “If they’re who I think they are, then you have a lot more opportunities to talk to them.”

His heart skipped a beat. “What makes you say that?”

“Well,” he brushed the hair off of his face, “you did present an offer to help each other out.”

His ears were burning. He had it all figured out. Sova wondered if Cypher could feel the heat on his face. Still, he couldn’t stop the small smile from creeping on his face. He breathed softly.

“Am I right?” Cypher asked.

“Maybe.”

The spy laughed. “Of course, I am.”

“Do you think that me and this… person’s relationship would improve?”

“Hm,” he hummed, pretending to ponder. “This person has been wanting to talk to you more.”

“Really now?”

“Oh, yes.” Sova inhaled deeply. “Perhaps some vulnerability would do both of you some good.”

“There’s really no hiding from you, huh?”

“No,” he snickered.

Gloved fingertips gently massaged his head, running his fingers across his scalp. “So, you admit you feel the same way?

They heard some sounds down the hall. “Do you?” he questioned. 

“I do,” he said.

He braced himself for the answer. The spy straightened himself. “I do too.”

“We’re going to talk about this later?”

“Mm. That can definitely be arranged, little owl.”

Heavy footsteps were getting closer to the door of the med bay. There was an indistinct voice heard.

“They’re coming,” Sova said.

“I know.”

More yelling down the hall. “Vulnerability is a good look on you, Amir,” he remarked.

Cypher removed his hand from his hair, and he placed a hand on his cheek. “As do you.”

Then there was a series of knocks on the door, with Skye’s voice on the other side, calling out for the two of them.

“This stays between us, yes?” He stood from the bed. “The whole conversation, and the cuddling?”

Sova could hear the smile in his voice, and he smiled back. “Don’t worry,” he murmured. “Our secret’s safe with me.”