Chapter Text
“Are you actually okay?” Twilight murmurs as he pulls Wild close, wrapping his arms around him and threading his fingers into Wild’s wet hair.
Shuddering as the warmth of Twilight’s body seeps into his freezing muscles, Wild reaches back and grabs a handful of Twilight’s tunic. His mind turns the question over and over, trying to think up a response that isn’t bursting into hysterical laughter. Everything aches. With every breath, he feels the fragile scab holding his wounded sides together pull taut, threatening to break, while the front of his chest burns.
But beneath the pain is something more, something worse. As he presses his face into Twilight’s neck, his eyes begin to sting. A lump catches in his throat, trapping his voice. If he doesn’t focus on the sound of Twilight’s heart beating, then all he can hear is the gentle dripping of water all around him. If he doesn’t squeeze his eyes shut and hide them like a child, then he can still see the glowing rock walls.
If he doesn’t stay right where he is in Twilight’s arms, then he’s going to lose himself to the Shrine of Resurrection again.
So, is he okay? Absolutely not.
The question hangs unanswered for a moment longer before Twilight hums, hearing everything Wild can’t say yet.
His grip tightens, keeping Wild as close as possible, while his free hand starts to rub circles in Wild’s back. Between the warmth wrapped around him and the sound of Twilight’s heart thudding against Wild’s ear, something soft creeps in.
The panic doesn’t disappear, no. It isn’t going anywhere. With every plop of water or ripple of gentle waves against the walls, Wild’s own heart pounds and adrenaline continues to flood his veins. His whole body is tense and on alert, ready to run at a moment’s notice but there’s nowhere to go.
Twilight’s presence isn’t enough to stop the terror that has been plaguing Wild every single step of this temple. But he does make it easier, safer. Twilight has been there by Wild's side since he emerged from the Shrine. Twilight saw the first panic attack, guided him through the times where water couldn’t be avoided, and never, not once, held an ounce of judgement.
With Twilight finally here, Wild finds it easier to believe Time’s promise that they will get out, that he won’t drown in these walls.
There had been no safety like this in the Shrine. He isn’t there, not anymore.
“I’m okay.” Wild whispers and almost believes it now. He lets out a careful sigh only to wince when his wounds twinge, flesh pulling taut and threatening to split open at the mere thought of his lungs filling. “Ow, shit.”
Mistakes were made with that coming out of his mouth.
Instantly Twilight goes straight into mother-hen mode. One hand ends up on Wild’s shoulder to keep him steady while he leans to the side so he can peer at the barely-healed wounds. Wild winces again when Twilight’s fingers ghost along the edge of the jagged bite, air brushing against his tender skin.
Already knowing what Twilight is about to say, Wild shakes him off and steps back, silently begging his own body to not betray him. “I’m fine, Twi. Seriously.”
Twilight responds by crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. Doubt hangs thick around them.
Wild scowls back. “Is now the time for this? Really? Here?!”
He throws one arm out to gesture to their surroundings—the circular room, the limited air supply, and the water that floods the whole dungeon—and prays that this is a good enough distraction to keep Twilight away from the core issue they’re both ignoring.
But it doesn’t work. Twilight knows him too well for that.
Instead of backing off or sobering up, Twilight’s worried expression stays exactly where it is. A hand comes up to cup Wild’s face, tilting his chin and forcing their eyes to meet.
“Cub,” he sighs, looking impossibly sad. “It’s just me here.”
Of all the things he could have said, that’s the one that makes Wild’s bottom lip start to wobble and his eyes sting. He presses his hands to his face but it doesn’t work. With only four words, Twilight has completely ripped away the mask of that knight Wild had so desperately held on to and left behind only the raw truth: that he’s a scared, pathetic child.
Wild knows they don’t have time for this, that he needs to be brave, but a sob still finds its way out. For the second time, Twilight wraps him up in a hug, fingers threading through his wet hair and strong arm holding him close, keeping him safe. In this tiny space made by the one who has been by his side since he woke up in that damned Shrine, Wild lets himself cry.
He clings onto Twilight as his whole body trembles and shakes with the force of his sobs. Unrestrained fear runs through his veins, seeping into his muscles and sapping what little strength the fairy’s blessing had given him. A headache smashes against the inside of his skull with an iron sledgehammer, sending bolts of pain digging into his brain. The only bonus to come of all this is at least the headache manages to block out the throbbing bite mark on his sides.
Once his tears slow, Twilight takes his face in both hands again and brushes away the last of the tears. Even though Wild feels exposed and vulnerable, he can’t bring himself to try and hide.
It’s just Twilight here. He’s safe with Twilight.
“Better?” Twilight murmurs, looking like he’s barely holding back from resuming his mother-henning.
Rubbing his nose on his sleeve, Wild nods. “Yeah. T-thanks, Twi.”
That gets him a tiny squeeze before Twilight steps back and glances around the dungeon’s room, his own complicated expression spreading across his face. There’s a moment where he looks like he is about to say something, but then he just sighs again, shakes his head and steps a bit closer to the edge of the stone paving. He kneels down first, then swings his legs into the water, and looks back at Wild.
“You think you’re ready to try?”
Is he? Will he ever be? Wild doesn’t know.
Biting his lip again, he inches closer to the edge. The water is dark and ominous, surface covered in gentle ripples that hide the danger that lies far below. Time and Legend had vanished down into that murk only a minute or two ago but Wild can’t even see a hint of them no matter how hard he squints.
It’s like the world just ends, that if he slips back into the water and lets it pull him under, he’ll never breathe fresh air again. How do they know Time and Legend are even okay? That… that thing—the Morpheel or whatever Twilight had called it—could’ve escaped and killed Time and Legend and they wouldn’t know it was waiting for them.
“Hey.”
Twilight’s hand lands on Wild’s shoulder and he nearly explodes out of his skin, flinching away from the touch violently. Agony throbs through his chest as he pants for air, idly realising that oh great he’s panicking once again. Fantastic. First he starts crying and now he’s freaking out, just like he did with Time.
“Cub, look at me.” Twilight moves closer in slow, steady movements, gently reaching out to take Wild’s hands in his own. “It’s okay, just take a breath and look at me.”
After a second, Wild manages to comply with the order. His lungs expand in awkward juddering stages and, once he’s managed a few mouthfuls of blessed oxygen, he looks up to meet Twilight’s gaze. That tiny action earns him the reward of Twilight smiling, his eyes as calm and steady as his voice. All Wild can see there is the promise that nothing will go wrong now that Twilight’s here.
“I—I’m okay.” He stutters, tightening his grip on Twilight’s hands. “I just… I… Twi, I can’t do this.”
“You can.” Twilight rebukes softly, kindly. “You can, cub, I know you can.”
“N-no, I’m… I’m gonna drown.” Wild whimpers. It’s a simple fact of life, no matter what anyone else seems to believe. The sky is blue, bomb arrows hurt and if he tries to breathe water, he’s going to die.
Twilight lifts Wild’s hand up and taps Legend’s ring pointedly, forcing Wild to focus on it. “No,” he promises, “you won’t. You know the vet; Legend wouldn’t give this to you if it didn’t work. Trust me, cub, you can do this. I know you don’t want to but we can’t get out of here without the ring’s help. It’s gonna be okay. I’m right here.”
Okay, it’s okay. It’s okay because Twilight’s here.
Wild repeats the mantra a few more times in his head before he nods, a sharp jerk up and down of his head. Carefully, like he’s leading a spooked horse, Twilight backs up towards the edge of the platform, leading Wild closer and closer to the water. Once they’re both sitting side by side, Twilight laces their fingers together and pushes away from the wall.
Small white waves follow his submersion but Twilight doesn’t go far. He floats right in front of Wild’s legs, still holding his hand.
“Trust me, Wild.” He asks, tugging gently on Wild’s arm.
And that, Wild can do.
Swallowing back another wave of panic, Wild wiggles off the edge of the platform and slides into the cold water. The freezing temperature feels like thousands of knives dig into the bite marks at the same time and pain pulses through his body as every muscle seizes up. Before Wild’s even managed to let out a strangled gasp of pain, Twilight is there, propping him up as water licks the sides of their necks.
“Breathe, cub.” He tucks Wild close, keeping him afloat as the waves of pain start to subside.
Wild keeps his eyes closed, turning his face into Twilight’s neck, and focuses on nothing but the way air rushes through his nose and fills his lungs. As his body acclimatises to the temperature, things start to work again. He can kick his feet and paddle with his arms and stay above water by himself.
But that alone won’t get him out of here. He’s going to have to grab the deer by the antlers at some point. Hilariously, staying where he is, cowering at the surface, is going to be the thing that kills him.
Without opening his eyes or lifting his head from Twilight’s shoulder, Wild takes a shuddering breath and forces himself to ask for the one thing he’s been scared of this entire time. “Take me under?”
“You sure?”
“Y-yeah.” Wild lets out another shuddering whimper but doesn't take his request back. He need Twilight to help him. “I… I won’t be able to do it myself.”
Twilight doesn’t even consider the request. He nods, lifts the mask of his armour up over his nose, and sinks both of them into the deep. Water creeps up their necks, over their jaws, their mouths, nose, eyes… and finally they’re under the surface.
The moment water closes over Wild’s head, the panic returns. His heart thuds in his ears, his lungs burn as they start to run out of air, and tears leak from his eyes only to vanish into the water around them. Hylia above, this is a horrible idea, he can’t do this, he can’t bring himself to do this.
A tap-tap against his arm catches Wild’s attention. He lifts his head up, long strands of hair swirling around them, and Twilight’s eyes crinkle into a reassuring smile.
‘Breathe.’ He signs as earnestly as possible. ‘It’s okay. Promised, remember?’
He did promise. Twilight has promised over and over and over again, filled with nothing but faith that Wild can do this.
If he believes Wild can do this, then… then the least he can do is try.
Keeping their gazes locked and his grip tight, Wild slowly unlocks his jaw… and breathes but it doesn’t feel like water rushing down his throat. His chest expands, lungs filling but there is no pain. He exhales a small stream of bubbles and, when Twilight gives another encouraging nod, inhales again.
He isn’t drowning. He isn’t drowning.
Somehow, Wild ends up crying underwater—a feat he’s sure few have managed to succeed. Twilight hugs him close as his tears spill into the flooded dungeon, lost the second they fall. This time though, it’s not fear but relief that fills Wild’s whole body.
It worked. Legend’s ring worked. He’s not going to die down here.
He’s going to be okay.