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Three days had come and gone, and Warriors had not slept.
A hazy fog had descended over his mind, his body. He knew it wasn’t good for him, doggedly pushing through as his stress levels ratcheted higher and higher. But it was well beyond his control now, and he was fighting a battle he didn’t know how to win.
He really didn’t like fighting battles he didn’t know how to win.
How could he calm the swirling paranoia when he had a job to do, brothers to watch over? How could he sleep when he didn’t know what would happen once his eyes slipped shut?
To say it had been a trying week would be a severe understatement.
It had all begun with one of the worst portal switches they’d experienced as a group, all nine of them flung to separate corners of Hyrule’s world. It took days for them to reunite, each hero exhausted and weary from the unaccommodating landscape. Two more portal switches later, and they had been fighting battles constantly, monsters streaming from every which corner. All of them had been injured in some capacity; nobody felt safe at night.
Moods were soured. Tensions were high. And Warriors. Was. Stressed.
Memories of previous danger lay dormant in his bones, as familiar as an old friend. On hard days, on bad days, the paranoia flared to life, creeping up and stealing his sleep, his energy, his sanity.
He felt like he was only a halfway-functional Hylian as he trudged through the latest forest. They were in Twilight’s Hyrule, and-no. Four’s Hyrule? Wild’s? He couldn’t remember anymore.
His head throbbed with every step, wavering vision turning the landscape into smears of emerald and cornflower. He marked his wobbly path with the bright cerulean of Wind’s tunic bobbing ahead of him.
He could feel the strain building up under his skin, a rising tide that he was so used to ignoring. If he could just get a moment to himself, a moment to parse through the last week, he could get everything back under control.
He could.
Emotion was not a luxury that a captain could afford, not if they wanted optimal battle outcomes and the thinnest stack of condolence letters. He had gotten better at allowing himself to feel his emotions since the war, softening to the sadness, or the fear, or the joy. But old habits die hard, and the constant onslaught of anxiety had him stuffing down his feelings like he used to. Just so he could function. Just so he could keep going.
Somehow, they made it their next camp. He tried to ignore the pang of guilt as he waved away Wild’s offered dinner, claiming he had eaten earlier. He didn’t think he could stomach anything right then.
Day turned to dusk, dusk turned to night, and soft snores could be heard around the clearing.
Warriors was still awake. The buzzing electricity in his veins refused to quiet, thoughts turning over and over inside his head.
There was a time, years ago, when the hours after the sun set were precious; when the whole world seemed to breathe a sigh of relief and the worries of the day were far out of reach. A time when his only company was crickets and the great white moon. There was nobody to please, no battalions to lead, no expectations of a hero.
That time felt very far away, now. The night was unfriendly, menacing. Any number of unknown threats could be lurking in the shadows.
He carefully shifted his weight, rolling over onto his other side. He surveyed the sleeping forms of his brothers, counting them over and over until the knot in his chest loosened slightly. Surely it couldn’t hurt to do a quick perimeter check - just one.
Needless to say, he never did fall asleep.
The following morning had Time doleing out chore assignments to prepare for the day, and Warriors got paired with Legend to fill waterskins.
On their walk out to the nearest water source, Warriors almost tripped several times, his feet uncooperative and heavy. After the fifth time, Legend finally stopped, grabbing a fistful of Warriors’ scarf to bring him to a stop. Legend scrutinized him, a frown on his face.
“Are you…good? I didn’t think someone as concerned with their appearance as you would abide by those atrocious dark circles.”
He scoffed and waved Legend away, adjusting his scarf where it suddenly felt tight around his throat.
“I’m fine, Legend, I-” a bolt of weakness ran through him, and his knees nearly buckled. He blinked in surprise, letting his sentence trail off and fizzle out into nothing. He thought he might have dropped his armful of waterskins.
A beat of silence that stretched on too long, and then Legend’s pinched expression was inches from his face, warm hands on both of his shoulders.
“Wars. I know it’s been a long week, and everyone is tired. Goddess knows I am. But you can’t keep neglecting your health to try and look out for everyone else. Let that burden be shared, there’s more than enough of us.”
He didn’t respond. He didn’t move at all, too focused on keeping his breathing steady. In. Out. In. Out.
“Wars?” He barely heard the question through the sudden ringing in his ears, vision tunneling to a pinprick of light. A wave of dizziness swept through his body.
“‘m gonna...I…” was all he was able to force out before his knees actually did buckle, and Legend lunged to support his weight with a grunt.
Time winked out for a few moments, and the next thing he knew, he was flat on his back, cool earth underneath him. And an increasingly panicked Legend leaning above him.
“Warriors? Wars. Link. Can you hear me? What’s wrong?”
He could feel water pooling next to his shoulder, spilling from an abandoned waterskin. He stared at the sky and tried to make his brain work.
A shrill, sharp whistle split the air, and he flinched as the pounding in his head intensified.
“Sorry, sorry,” Legend said, much quieter. His rings were cold where they rested against Warriors’ arm, even through his tunic. “Just hang on for a second.”
Moments bled sluggish from one to the next, and suddenly Time and Twilight were crouched on either side of him. Time pushed his bangs back, lightly resting a palm on his forehead, and Twilight’s hand found its way to the pulse point on his wrist.
He cracked his eyes back open. When had they closed?
“He’s not responding to me, I don’t even know what’s wrong, I can’t…”
Legend’s voice filtered through the persistent ringing in his ears, and other sensations started to return to him as well.
His heartbeat jumped from his chest to his throat, where it thundered insistently, almost in tune with the pulsing of his headache. Nausea was starting to build, worsened by the dizziness that had yet to abate.
He sat up and then immediately tipped forward with a groan, folding over himself.
The fingers on his wrist tightened, five pinprick points of grounding contact. They were the only thing keeping him tethered to his own body. He swayed, an unmoored ship in the ocean of green, green, green forest floor.
Rough-padded fingers tapped his cheek, gentle and searching, insistent.
“Captain. Captain, sit up.”
More hands on his body, carefully pulling him up from his slumped position. The dizziness did not recede, but at least breathing came slightly easier. He distantly recognized the person nearest him to be Twilight.
He sagged in Twilight’s grip, his chainmail jingling quietly with the movement. Firm hands moved from his shoulders to under his arms before shifting him backwards to lean against a solid body. His breaths came in shallow wheezes, each inhale pushing against the invisible band around his chest. He could feel his eyes threatening to close again.
Time hummed. “Stay awake, captain. We need to make sure you’re not injured anywhere before you can rest.”
Warriors huffed softly. He wasn’t injured - he wasn’t. He just…needed a nap. Or five.
His voice failed him as Time and Twilight carefully and methodically checked him over for any hidden injuries. The more present he became, the more embarrassment took root. He had fainted. On Legend.
“He’s a little more aware now, I think. Hey, Wars?”
He blinked rapidly, and Legend’s face slowly swam into view, sharp eyes studying him.
“Hi. Can you tell me when the last time you slept was? The last time you ate a good meal?”
Warriors considered. Legend probably wouldn’t count the brief nap he had taken during a break, or the fruit and nuts he had been half-heartedly forcing down.
“Few days ago,” he finally rasped, wincing at Time’s expression.
He could feel Twilight tense slightly behind him, and a protective arm came around and held him a little tighter. Nobody said anything for a few moments, and then Time spoke up from where he was crouched next to Warriors.
“Ok,” he said softly, “Ok. We can help with that. For now, we need to get back to camp.”
Without any further fanfare, Time swept Warriors up into his arms and started towards camp, Legend and Twilight trailing behind.
“The water,” Warriors mumbled, tugging slightly on Time’s sleeve to get him to stop. He couldn’t remember if he saw Legend picking up the strewn waterskins. Those were important.
“Captain…you’re exhausted, your body is literally begging you to take a break right now. I’m begging you to take a break. The water doesn’t matter right now.”
They made it back to their makeshift camp, and Time deposited Warriors on a soft surface, probably his bedroll. He knelt next to Warriors, hesitating for a split second before placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Twilight went to find Wild - he’ll get you something easy to eat. Then you’re going to sit here and rest until you feel fully well. I don’t know why you insist on running yourself ragged. I wish you would talk to me instead of pushing through this.” The unspoken plea was clear on his face:
Please let me help you.
Warriors shook his head, screwing his eyes shut when the motion sent another wave of dizziness crashing over him. Sudden, choking grief snagged in his chest and stayed there, curling around his heart. He was sick of the paranoia, the sleepless nights and constant vigilance.
He was so tired.
“I can’t, I can’t- I don’t know what to do.” He laughed, but the rising pitch was just high enough to betray the edge of hysteria. “I’m spooked by every shadow. I keep sensing danger that isn’t real. I’m trying to sleep, I swear, but I just-I can’t stop thinking about all the ways everything could go wrong. I have to make sure that nothing is going to go wrong.”
He was panting by the time he finished his outburst, eyes darting around nervously. He could feel the keen sting of panic, the looming threat of losing control. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, and he angrily wiped them away. He didn’t want to be in tune with his emotions right now.
“Captain,” Time said heavily, and there was so much more he didn’t say that was communicated through that single word. The hand resting on his shoulder moved to his hair, gently carding through it.
“You’re safe right now, I promise. You’re okay. You don’t need to worry about anyone else.”
Though unease still coiled in his muscles, and he couldn’t kick the feeling that he was being watched, Time’s presence was steady and grounding, and he let out a shaky sigh. He could see Legend shooing Wind away, motioning for him to be quiet. Wild was rooting around in his slate. His brothers were all there for him.
Old habits die hard, but with a little help, maybe he’d be able to form new ones.