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Consciousness came back slowly and with effort. He felt horrible. Every part of his body was too heavy and his brain kept glitching. Giving him snippets of conversation that couldn't be happening. He felt hands on him, and managed to wrench his eyes open. A human face looked at him.

Alex tried to reach for a knife, but his hand wasn't connected to him, it barely moved.

"Alex?" the woman asked. "Can you hear me?"

"Is he okay, Doc?" A man asked.

Alex tried to turn his head, but it was locked in place.

"He's groggy, but I don't see any injuries that would cause that. The armband didn't give any error message so it isn't what caused this either?"

Alex knew her, but he couldn't connect what he was seeing to the information in his brain.

"Could this be the cause?" The man came into view holding a handful of vials.

The woman, the doctor, took one. "Just stimulants." She moved it in his line of sight and Alex shook his head before she asked the question. "Did you take this?"

"There's a lot of them in the cockpit, all empty as far as I could tell."

She sighed. "Jacoby, how much is a lot? Ten, twenty?"

"Try a hundred, or close to that. They're on the controls, the floor, everywhere."

Alex tried to speak. "Tr--"

"Doc, maybe you should take him to the clinic? Run tests."

"I'm okay." Alex's voice sounded weak and she gave him a dubious look. "I'll be okay." It sounded stronger. He was able to move his head. He had a towel over his lap, covering his groin. The floor was covered with debris. Had they caused that? Had they fought Tristan?

"Alex," she called to him. "Alex, did Tech take them?"

Tech? Who? Right, Tristan. Alex shook his head. Tristan would never take stims. He didn't need them. Then who had? It had only been the two of them in here.

"If he took them," she said. Cornelius, that was her name. She was the town's doctor, Jacoby was the Port Master. "With his physiology they wouldn't have done much unless he stacked their use. So it would have lasted a few weeks, a month at most."

"They were in transit for seven months."

She indicated a chair on the other side of the room. "Tech was under Cryo for part of that at least."

"How did you get in?"

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Better." He looked at Jacoby. "Where's Tech? How did you get in?"

"He's home, barricaded himself in. He won't answer calls or his door. A lot of people in town think you dumped him."

"I'd never."

"Alright, that's enough," the doctor said. "Alex, I need to know how you're doing, I need an honest answer so I can treat you. I don't have my equipment here."

"I'm okay." He stood and managed to stay that way. "I always react this way to this kind of Cryo."

"The system didn't register any bad interaction with the replacement fluid."

"It's psychological, or so I'm told. If you think this was bad you should have seen it when I wore clothing."

Alex looked for his clothes and found them amidst the debris. Except for his chair and the one Tristan had used, nothing was intact. A fight wouldn't have done that. At least not one that didn't leave any traces of blood. This was one person venting rage.

"Okay, how did you get in?" He pulled on his pants.

"The ramp," Jacoby said. "Took me a few days to get around the lock. Whoever owned this before Tech was serious about locking things up."

Alex set aside the idea that Tristan had locked him in. It made no sense. He looked at the damage. Nothing made sense right now.

"Why did you want to come in?"

Jacoby chuckled. "Have you seen the landing job Tech did? Even if I didn't have to get in to do a proper shutdown I'd have to so I could get it in the hangar properly."

"What do you mean you have to do a shutdown? T--Tech always shuts the ship down."

"He didn't do it this time, and I'm not set up to change power cells on a running ship."

"Why did Tech leave you under Cryo?" Cornelius asked.

"I don't know," Alex answered honestly, putting on his shirt.

"How about the stims? Do you know how long he's been on them?"

"He isn't on them. He doesn't take stims."

"If not him, or you, who did?" Jacoby asked. "There isn't anyone else here."

"I don't know." Stims didn't explain his behavior. And he'd been sleeping fine.

"Then what's wrong with him?"

"I'll handle it."

"Alex." Jacoby grabbed his arm. Alex spun, got out of the hold and had the man against the wall, hand around his neck. Jacoby got over the surprise and kept his hands away. "Alex, I'm not your enemy. I'm trying to help."

"I don't need your help." Alex let him go and put on his harness. Most of the knives had fallen out but he still had four. A quick look around showed him three more.

His jacket was under a mostly intact chair, except for it no longer being attached to the wall. It was stained by a green dried liquid.

"Alex, we want to help."

"Well don't. We don't need your help." He shook it before putting it on and heading for the ramp.

"Let him go, Doc."

"But--"

"I think this is one of those things couples have to resolve themselves."

Alex snorted. They weren't a couple. He was Tristan's weapon, and while it was Tristan's right to leave him under cryo if he wanted. Alex deserved an explanation.

* * * * *

He wished they'd leave. Alex had tried to convince them to go home, but they were concerned about Tech, and since he was still here they wanted to know why he had locked himself in his home.

It had taken all his self-control not to just kill them all, but he'd managed to convince them to stay outside the property. He'd let them know how he was once he knew himself.

Alex went directly to the workroom's door. It was locked, but he could look in. It was a combat zone in there. Tables were thrown all over the place. Tables which he knew had been secured to the floor to keep them from moving. Equipments were in pieces everywhere. Why had Tristan destroyed the things he cared about more than anything else?

Where was he? Alex searched the room. He had to be there. If he had left how would he--there. Tristan was seated on the floor, legs pulled up against himself, arms around them and head resting on his knees.

Alex banged on the door and the Samalian looked up. Even at this distance he could see the misery in those eyes.

"Tristan!" He banged again, but the Samalian lowered his head. Alex tried to connect with the lock, but it wasn't working. Tristan had deactivated it, which meant that whatever was keeping the door closed wasn't electronic.

He tried to force the door open, but no matter how hard he hit it, it remained closed. He cursed. What was Tristan doing? He couldn't stay in there forever.

Alex rested his head against the window. "What happened to you?" He didn't get an answer.

He couldn't get in, not right now at least, so what he needed to do was get rid of the town's people. When he no longer had an audience he could do something more drastic to get in. Tristan had to have explosives somewhere in the house.

He used what they believed about Tech and told them the reason he was distraught was that he'd lost his job. He reassured them that all Tech needed was time and that he'd keep them updated on his state. That seemed to satisfy them and they dispersed. Fortunately no one asked about why Alex hadn't been with him.

Alex went back to the house and he relaxed when he heard that computer. He had it unlock the door and went to the one connecting the house to the workroom, but that one was also locked.

He was closer to where Tristan and when he banged the door the Samalian didn't just look up at him, he snarled.

"What's happening?" Alex asked. "What happened while I was under?" Tristan just bared his teeth. "Tristan, let me in, I can't help you from out here."

Before Alex could take a step back Tristan was at the door. "Help me?" he growled. "You don't want to help me, you want to destroy me. I see through you now. You can tell the universe it failed. You can't get to me anymore."

Alex placed a hand on the window. "Tristan, It's me, Alex. Your weapon."

"Liar! You're a traitor! You're not mine, you're its. You're its knife planted deep inside me." He hung his head. "I thought I could trust you."

Alex saw the tears falling down Tristan's face but couldn't believe it. Who was this? It wasn't his Tristan. The monster who manipulated everyone, who feared nothing, cared for no one. He certainly didn't cry.

"You can trust me, Tristan. I'm yours, only yours."

Hope blossomed in the Samalian's eyes. "Really? Mine?"

"Yes, Tristan, I love you. I know you don't care, but I--"

Tristan's face hardened. "I hate you."

"Tristan, I--"

"I hate you." He slammed a palm against the door and Alex had to take a step back. "I never want to see you again! Do you hear me? Get out of my house!" Tristan started sobbing. "Get out. I hate you." He slid down below the window, but Alex could still hear him. "I hate you. I hate you." But he sounded more tired than angry.

Alex remained there, trying to think of something to help Tristan, but what could he do if he didn't understand what was going on? Clearly Tristan felt this was his fault, but Alex hadn't done anything, had he?

His stomach growled and reluctantly he left to get food.

Passing through the living room he noticed the Defender on a shelf. He'd walked past it then spun.

"Oh I bet you think this is funny. You think this is what I wanted? The promise was that he'd love me." He pointed to the workroom door. "Is that what you think love looks like?"

Alex threw his hands in the air. "It's a piece of rock, I can't believe I'm talking to it." He turned to leave, but spun again.

"Five years! Five fucking years he's been treating me like an object, a thing to use when he sees fit. I was okay with it. Do you hear me? I was okay with not mattering to him because at least I was with him." He pointed to the door again. "That isn't what I wanted! So you fucking better give me back my Tristan!"

Alex grabbed his head and turned. He was losing his mind, why else was he talking to an inanimate object? He made it to the exit before turning again.

"Why are you even doing that to him? It isn't like he believes in you. He doesn't give a damn about anything Samalian. You can't affect him."

Alex's eyes went wide.

Tristan couldn't believe. He only believed in himself. But if he didn't believe the promise they made over the Defender wouldn't bind him.

"Damn it! It's just stone."

He should go eat, not stand here arguing with it. It wasn't like he'd win the argument.

But Tristan had been raised on Samalia. He had to have heard the stories, the legends. Whatever the reason for his mental breakdown, maybe he could use those stories?

What other option did he have? He could always bring him to a psychologist, but Alex didn't know any who had an army on retainer, because that was what it would take to force Tristan to sit down and talk about anything that mattered.

He pointed at the statue. "This better work, because if it doesn't I'm going to smash you to pieces."

In his room he took his datapad out and accessed the vault where he'd stored all his research on the Defender. Somewhere in there had to be a legend he could use. Something that Tristan would be able to use to justify his condition and then fix things.

He spent hours looking through the files, ignoring his stomach, the sounds of breakage coming from the workroom and the communications system when it started beeping. He was too engrossed in the legend he was reading. About how the Defender had granted a boon to a traveler who had brought back his representation to the house of worship it had been stolen from.

He jumped to his feet. This was it. This was what would let Tristan get out of this. He ran out of his room, noting Jacoby had been the one trying to contact them. Later.

"Tristan!" He yelled as he crossed the living room. "I know what's wrong with you! It's--" there was a flash of light and he flew back.

He hit the floor, rolled, then the house was falling down around him, and on him. He felt bones break, his legs, an arm. The pain had to be intense, but he didn't feel it.

He felt detached from what was happening. He couldn't move, and he was looking at the Defender, which had been thrown to the floor by the explosion, but two pieces of the wall had fallen over it, forming a roof and protecting it from the rest of the debris.

It couldn't end this way. "We were supposed to be happy," he croaked at it. "It was over you, it was binding."

Something sparked at the edge of his vision. "Tech? Alex? Curse you both, pickup, there's a ship heading for you. It's just swooped in the atmosphere, the buoy isn't registering it. You have to get out of there!" there was an electronic squawk and the message started over.

"You promised," Alex said as the world turned black.