Big Book Of Ridgephos One Shots

A Place For Heroes (S)

TW: Mention of Death, Greek Mythology

Xephos hadn't even realized he'd been sleeping until something nudged his side, and then it was like rising from the depths of a deep pool, dragging himself from an almost physical sense of heaviness pressing him from all sides. He opened his eyes to a sky dusted with stars, the arrangements of which he didn't recognize in the slightest.

"Hey." The nudge came again, harder this time.

He turned away from the foreign constellations to find Ridge sitting beside him. Another shove, the hard tip of Ridge's boot dug into his ribs and he batted at the smooth leather in annoyance.

"Stop that," he said, voice still slurred with sleep. He sat up, stretching his stiff limbs and looked around. A field of flowers (daffodils?) stretched to the horizon all around him and he blinked, taking it in with drowsy awe. "Where are we?"

"A long way from home," said Ridge, reaching out and brushing away a blade of grass from Xephos's shoulder.

Xephos frowned. "Did you...?"

"No. This isn't one of mine." Ridge eyed their surroundings with obvious distaste while Xephos looked around with sudden unease. Something not created by Ridge's hand? Academically he knew that Ridgedog was... a limited being. But this was seeing something just beyond that limit, and the thought was more disconcerting than it should have been, he found.

"Why are we here?" he asked.

Ridge considered him for a moment. "I came to get you."

"Me?" Xephos raised his eyebrows, bewildered.

"Yes, you," Ridge moved to stand, brushing crushed flower petals from his trousers as he did so. "And I hope you know I'll never live this down."

A sudden thought occurred to Xephos and he looked down at himself. He appeared to be in one piece but there was a strange certainty that accompanied that thought.

"Did I die?" he asked slowly.

"Yes," answered Ridge, offering his hand.

"But not like usual," he guessed, taking Ridge's hand and standing. His legs shook beneath him and he gripped Ridge's arm to steady himself. "I'm actually dead?"

"That's right," said Ridge, frankly. "The big Death. Capital D."

"Isn't that usually," Xephos fumbled for words, still trying to wrap his head around the concept. "Isn't that supposed to be, uh, it? The end?"

"Generally speaking, yes." Ridge pried Xephos's fingers away from his sleeve, smoothing down the material before dragging the other closer, pulling his arm over his shoulder for support. "An exception is being made."

"Is that allowed?" Xephos leaned heavily against Ridge's side, his legs beginning to ache now. They felt atrophied, as if he hadn't stood on them in ages and he wasn't so sure that that wasn't the case anymore.

"Just this once," Ridge warned, looking at him gravely. "I can only grease so many palms, even in my lifetime. Especially for something like this."

Xephos didn't know how to respond to that. He still couldn't even remember how it'd happened and he shook his head, feeling lost.

"Ridge," he faltered and swallowed thickly. "You probably shouldn't have done this."

"Oh, I definitely shouldn't have done this," said Ridge, turning to look Xephos directly in the eye, their proximity making it so that their noses brushed, and Xephos found himself clenching his fists. Ridge grinned wryly and it was almost a grimace. "But I'm sure you understand why I needed to."

Xephos dropped his gaze, feeling humbled by the depth of regard in Ridge's expression. Tentatively, he pressed their foreheads together and shut his eyes. "Thank you."

They were both quiet for a moment before Ridge pulled back.

"Of course." He smiled crookedly, though the curve of his lips looked just a bit brittle. "Just don't go making a habit out of it. Now lets get out of this place before you start to mold."

They began walking, though Xephos had no idea where they were going. There were no distinguishable landmarks, no changes in the landscape of any kind really and it seemed like Ridge had just picked a random direction and begun walking, half dragging Xephos as they went. He took time to really look around as they went, studying the skyline and the flowers as the passed.

"It's nice here," he decided, "As final resting places go, it could be worse."

"This place isn't for me," said Ridge, almost sounding weary. "Something like me doesn't belong here."

The field seemed less nice after that. Empty, really, though Xephos didn't say as much to his companion.

Credit to SilverShadowBeliever on Ao3