theshatterdome | guardian angels.

It's hard to keep track of time when it doesn't matter anymore. Most of the material world has faded into a soft blur to him, irrelevant to his interests when he's been charged with keeping the last Becket boy safe. Not that it's an impossible task - Raleigh's more than capable of holding his own in the few fights he gets involved in. There are times though when he'll see the blond morosely staring photos of his brother or brooding silently as he lies awake at night, and despite his professionalism, Stacker feels for the man. He's been instructed that guardian angels do not interact directly with their charges. He'd thought it would be easy to remain distant. He'd been wrong.

On a particularly bleak night he'd found himself reaching out to touch blond hair, to stroke Raleigh's head as if to help him sleep. He'd stopped himself of course. The next time, his fingers just went through Raleigh's head, his touch about as solid as a gasp of air. Possibly the worst thing, Stacker was coming to realise, was watching someone suffer and not being able to comfort them even with a simple touch.

Sometimes, Raleigh wonders why he bothers. Why he tries. Why...he continues to keep going. The human will to survive is strong, but even someone like Raleigh Becket, who has been to hell and back, has doubts.

The hole in his soul is still the size of his brother - still gaping and raw and bleeding, there was nothing there to stop that. Not even Mako, as hard as she may try. She fit into the other holes, sealed them up tight but this one was irreparable, a wound unable to be sewn back together again.

Occasionally, he considers disappearing, because that's easy - he'd done it before, vanished into the mob of rats working the wall, became a faceless entity amongst thousands scurrying too and fro and breaking their backs for a couple ration cards that didn't give them nearly enough sustenance.

Tonights one of the nights that he thinks about it, contemplates leaving, ending things, ceasing to exist.

He sits on the bed, holding the photo of himself and Yancy loose in his hand, staring into the darkness.

Stacker stands before the seated blond, leaning against the wall with his wings slightly spread around him to keep them from being crushed. He stares at Raleigh, their eyes meeting though the living man didn't know it. He knows the former Ranger's head would be full of dark thoughts and sighs, wishing he could do something to distract him. It's frustrating and he's sick of bein so damn powerless-

Huffing to himself, he straightens and crosses his arms, wings flapping with agitation and actually managing to kick up a strong enough breeze in the closed room to pluck the photograph out of Raleigh's hand.

The picture flutters from Raleigh's hand and he stares at his now empty hand, flexes his finger into a fist before wearily pushing himself up and to his feet, moving slowly across the floor to pick it back up.

He assumes he drops it, but there's a quiet little breeze that had ghosted over his cheek and he frowns faintly before bending and bringing it back up to safety.

Eyes narrowing at the apparent effect his wings have had, Stacker reaches out and concentrates, grabbing at the photo and staring with surprise when he can feel it, when he's succeeded and plucked it from Raleigh's grasp. He abruptly drops it though, knowing the blond does not need to see floating objects.

...Raleigh is starting to think he's going insane.

"What."

That's all he can manage, and his voice is a croak -- like he hasn't used it in a while and maybe he hasn't, maybe he doesn't have a lot to say these days.

Stacker remains as still as a statue, feeling nervous for the first time in a long time. He then frowns and shakes his head. "Go to bed, Becket," he grumbles, knowing the blond can't hear him anyway. "It'll be better in the morning."

Go to bed, Becket.

It's a simple thought, something easy to obey and he goes, slides back into his bed but he doesn't sleep, just lays there looking up at the ceiling.

"No, it won't."

The invisible guardian stills and stares hard before shaking himself, coming to sit on the bed at Raleigh's side. "Give it a chance," he murmurs, reaching out to stroke his hand through blond hair, despite how he knows the young man won't feel it at all. How he won't feel any comfort from it. "Sleep."

He can't.

He has quiet instructions in the back of his head to sleep, but he can't.

Raleigh will be laying there for a long time.

"Becket, you're not doing anyone any good staying awake like this," he sighs, resting his hand on Raleigh's chest. He vaguely remembers taking care of Mako, of sitting with her until she could fall asleep after she'd had a nightmare, and before that he can remember flashes of his childhood and how he'd sometimes taken care of Luna when neither of their parents were available. None of that helps now though, not when his presence is unknown to the man he wants to comfort.

Raleigh can't help it. He can't...help that he's still awake, that he's aware, that he's staring at the ceiling and unable to really sleep, ever.

The warm weight on his chest is...nice, though. It feels like...someone is there. Silly, but it does.

Dammit, he's an angel (sort of), shouldn't he be able to help somehow!? He makes a frustrated huff and takes a breath, trying to exude the calmness through his touch somehow, thumb rubbing gentle circling over Raleigh's chest as he reaches up with his free hand to smooth back Raleigh's hair again.

Should he? It's not anyone's fault but Raleigh's that he can't get over shit. Mako's here, she's a presence, she could help if he'd let her. She'd been grounding in the Drift, a firm consciousness that he could cling to as she drug him out of the darkness.

He doesn't know why he's retreated. He couldn't name a single reason why he'd done it.

That weight on his chest makes him sigh and close his eyes, though sleep eludes him for the moment. The flutter by his hair though, that makes him open his eyes and they're a little wet, a little desperate.

Something wrenches inside his chest when he sees the desperation in Raleigh's eyes, which is ridiculous since he shouldn't have a heart anymore, not like this. He furls his wings tight to his back and climbs into bed next to the prone Ranger, settling alongside his body and wrapping an arm around him, wondering to himself if he's doing more harm than good at this point.

Raleigh isn't sure what's happening when he feels something wrap around him, because he knows - he knows that there's no one else in the room but him. He hasn't Drifted since Pitfall, it's not the sensation of being pulled into a ghost drift or a feedback loop.

He also knows that he could very well be crazy.

Raleigh isn't about to push comfort away, though. He curls into the heat, not caring where it's coming from, and presses his face into what feels like a warm chest.

He's definitely worried about the fact that Raleigh can apparently now feel his physical presence... but that's something to think more on later. For now, the blond needs comfort and Stacker's in a position to give it, stroking along his back and murmuring gentle words that he's not sure Raleigh can even hear.

Raleigh doesn't say anything else, he just...stays pressed against the warmth, the presence, and lets his eyes close. He doesn't know what it is, who it is -- he just knows that it's there and it's...good.

It's nice. It's a comfort.

He mumbles a muffled thank you before dragging in a breath and letting his eyes remain shut.

Maybe he'll actually be able to get some sleep.

Stacker unfurls one of his wings to drape and wrap over Raleigh's body protectively and he murmurs, "Go to sleep. I'll stay with you."

He doesn't know how it's happening and he doesn't care.

Raleigh curls into it, and lets his eyes close, feeling safer than he has in a long, long time.

Go to sleep. I'll stay with you.

He doesn't know who it is and fuck, Raleigh doesnt' care. He just listens, lets his body finally relax, and drift off into sleep.

The angel lets out a sigh of relief when he feels the Ranger go limp with sleep, continuing to stroke his back and holding him close. It's a long shot but maybe Raleigh will mistake the night's events for a dream. The poor blond doesn't need any more reasons to feel crazy.

That being said, Stacker closes his eyes for the night. He might not need sleep but it's comfortable to rest his eyes. Come morning Raleigh might even see the angel next to him, if only very faintly in a way that will vanish the moment he properly wakes and rubs his eyes.

If Raleigh thought the previous night was a dream, that thought vanishes when he wakes up and gets a very, very brief look at the form -- what?

That makes him sit up, almost instantly awake and reach out, try to touch the place where he'd thought he'd seen someone sleeping.

Stacker's eyes fly open when the blond sits up and he freezes when he realises Raleigh's seen him. He doesn't move as the hand reaches out, sure that he won't be felt but feeling wary nonetheless. His wing defensively furls to press tight to his back again and he leans just the slightest bit away from the reaching hand.

He keeps reaching, certain that he saw something - someone - and he looks stricken and he feels like he's lost something, a piece of something important.

Eventually he draws back, feeling helpless and lost and empty.

"I'm losing my fucking mind."

No. Fuck the rules and the do's and don'ts of being a guardian angel - like hell he's going to sit here silent while Raleigh's so lost. He's supposed to protect the Ranger, right? That includes keeping him from going insane, right?

As if Stacker'd been that good at following orders in life.

He sits up and concentrates hard as he reaches out, gently cupping Raleigh's cheeks with his hands. "You're not losing your mind, Becket. Not on my watch."

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