Author's note: This story was for the most part a whim. No real plot.
Responsibility
Lila opened her eyes and looked into the darkness, unsure what had awakened her. She sat up slowly, her forehead creasing as she listened intently, sable eyes roving across the still unfamiliar room, trying to pinpoint exactly what it was that had seemed wrong enough to rouse her. A thought took form in the back of her sleepy mind, and she turned her attention to the metal wall by her bed. She slid over and pressed her cheek against it, pushing the soft chocolate waves of her hair back. Silence. Lila sighed and swung her legs over the edge of her bed. For a moment she just sat there, torn between lying back down and getting up to make sure everything was okay. She was tired, the day had been a long one. She could still feel echoes of the headache she'd been left with this afternoon after her battle with the infirmary equipment. Lila loved her profession and wouldn't give up her medical license for anything, but there was nothing the young doctor hated more than calibrating scanners and medicoms. Lila sighed again and heaved herself up off the bed and put on her slippers. She picked up her robe and wrapped it around her slender body as she left her room, pausing for a moment to consider her destination and finally setting off toward the kitchen.
Her guess had been a shrewd one, it turned out. Wildwing didn't look up as she came in, too intent on the white goalie mask on the table in front of him to even notice her presence. He stared blankly into the empty eyes of the greatest defensive weapon in the history of Puckworld, and Lila felt a twinge of sympathy for the man. He was young, the same age as she, and the weight of two worlds was a heavy burden for him to bear. A burden, she knew, that was made even worse by the sudden loss of his home, his world--and his best friend.
Lila padded quietly to the counter and picked up the tea kettle. Wildwing started at the sound of water running into the metal container, and Lila tried to keep her hands from shaking as she realized what a dangerous path she had stepped onto. She was fairly certain she knew what was bothering the young captain, and she knew that something had to be done about it. Whether she was the one who could do it--she was about to find out.
"What are you doing up?" Wildwing said harshly.
"Did you know we put our beds against the same wall?" Lila said lightly. "I got so used to your snoring on the other side that when it stopped, I woke up." She placed the kettle on the stove and turned on the heat, then turned to offer him a quiet smile as she joined him at the table. She glanced around the cold metal kitchen, a homesickness that was not feigned passing across her face. "I'm still not used to this place," she said quietly. "I needed a little taste of home." She held up two small white packets. "Pavra tea," Lila answered his questioning look. "I had some in my pouch, and I thought you might want a little too, hmm?" Wildwing looked away, knowing what she meant. Pavra tea was a relaxent when taken cold, but hot, it was also a dream-represent.
"So I guess this is the part where you tell me I have to let him go, that it wasn't my fault, there was nothing I could do, that it was his own decision?" Hostility grew in Wildwing's words, but Lila kept her face and eyes calm, and above all free of pity. Pity was not what this man needed right now.
"Why should I tell you what you already know?" she said calmly, watching him carefully. This was as delicate as the most dangerous surgery. "Telling your mind again won't help convince your heart. That kind of understanding has to come in its own time. If it ever does." Wildwing looked at her sharply and for a moment Lila felt his intense blue eyes bore down into her soul. Quickly she banished the ghosts from her eyes, intent on maintaining the mask of serenity that Duke often called her "professional look." "What I want to know," she continued, "is what you intent to do about that." She nodded toward the Mask of Ducaine as she rose and removed the whistling kettle from its burner. Watching him out of the corner of her eyes, she dumped the pavra tea leaves in the hot water and swirled the kettle.
"I can't be leader," Wildwing said heavily. "I can't handle that kind of responsibility."
"Have you ever thought about having a family, Wildwing?" Lila turned to him and raised her eyebrows.
"What?" He was obviously caught off guard by the question. Lila repeated it, and he shrugged. "Well, yeah, I guess. I mean, I just sort of assumed I would have one someday."
"Then responsibility is just something you're going to have to deal with, isn't it?"
"This is totally different," Wildwing shook his head, gazing back down at the Mask.
"I disagree," Lila told him, turning back to the kettle and pouring the tea into two glasses. "A parent's children are his world, and it is his job to keep them safe, just as it is now your job to keep your world safe." He started to protest, but she cut him off. "Besides which, what makes you think you are any less responsible for anything that happens to this team if you refused to lead?"
"I-"
"Suppose you gave command to-let's say to Mallory. And she makes the wrong decision. You know it's the wrong decision but you don't speak up because you don't want to take responsibility for the consequences. Mallory would be responsible for the consequences of her actions, but you're just as responsible for the consequences of your decision to give her command, and your decision not to stand up and tell her she was wrong." Lila set a glass on the table in front of him and sat down across from him, looking at him expectantly. Wildwing opened his mouth, and then shut it again, apparently at a loss. He took a gulp of the tea and tried again.
"I'll never be the leader Canard was," he began, but again Lila cut in before he could continue.
"Who said you had to be?" she wanted to know. "For that matter, who said Canard was that great a leader anyway?" Lila winced inwardly as Wing's face darkened in anger, kicking herself for letting her personal feelings leak into her argument, but there was no going back now.
"Canard was a good man--" He started.
"But he made the wrong decision when he gave the Mask to you," Lila pointed out. "At least that's what you're sitting here telling me. And you expect me to say he was a good leader? An important decision like that, that's going to effect profoundly the lives of his teammates, and he blew it." She gripped her glass, wondering how far she dared push this.
"One decision in a hard situation does *not* make him a bad leader--"
"So you admit that a leader is allowed to make mistakes?"
Wildwing looked at her for a moment, then shook his head with a quick laugh. "I think you missed your calling, Lady Doctor, you should have been a lawyer." Lila smiled and watched him over the rim of her glass as she took a sip of the tea. At least his mood was lightening a bit.
"Canard wasn't perfect, Wildwing," Lila told him gently. "No one expects you to be perfect, either. And I have to say that although Canard and I rarely agreed on anything, I think that he did make the right decision this time. I've worked with Tanya, Duke, and Mallory for quite a while, and in the short time I've known you I think I can safely say that you'd make a better leader than any of them." She caught his gaze and held it. "I'm not just saying this to make you feel better, Wildwing. I've given this some serious thought. To tell you the truth, I wasn't sure at first that you were the right choice. When we first came here you had nothing in your mind but revenge. That's a lousy way to fight a war. Costs are always higher when you feel you have nothing to lose. When you almost didn't help those people I thought to myself 'Oh no, it's going to be Canard all over again.' But we've been here a month now and I'm thoroughly convinced that you *are* the right one to lead us." She let him think about that for a few minutes as she got up to refill his glass, then went to the fridge for some fruit.
"You didn't get along with Canard." It was a statement, not a question. Lila stiffened.
"No," she said quietly, "I didn't."
"Why not?"
"He's a fighter. I'm a healer. We had...I didn't agree with his priorities, so to speak." Lila busied her hands with peeling an orange to hide their shaking. "You have to understand, Wildwing," she sighed, unable to look at him, "I know that it wasn't easy for Canard to make the decisions he did...but I was always the one who had to deal with the aftermath. I was the one who had to put those fighters back together after a hit and run or a raid. And sometimes...sometimes it wasn't fighters I had to put back together. When I went out as a field medic, and we got caught in a firefight, I had to deal with civilians--children, Wildwing--that got caught in the crossfire. And every time I found one of them that had wounds from a pucklauncher instead of a blaster--" She caught herself and took a deep breath, refusing to lose control. She smoothed the pain out of her face and eyes and forced her voice to stay steady. "We often disagreed about that sort of thing. Canard let his hate and rage over what had been done to his world blind him to the damage he himself was doing. Look what he did to you. His best friend. And he was so afraid you'd say no that he didn't even tell you what he wanted you to do. Never even gave you the chance to make the decision for yourself. You trusted him and you went with him and he threw you in the snowcat's den." Wildwing's face clouded again, but he looked at the table, knowing she was right. Lila sighed. "I know Canard was your friend, Wildwing, and it hurts to hear this, but I'm only saying it for one reason. Look at me, please." He raised his eyes to hers. "Canard was not a bad person," Lila stated carefully. "But the war changed him. The reality and the horror of what he was seeing darkened his soul, and made him into the man I knew. I wish I could have known the man you did, Wildwing, but Dragaunus robbed us of him before I had the chance. Promise me he won't do the same to you."
Wildwing's face was completely expressionless as he searched her eyes. Lila broke the stare and downed the last of her tea.
"On one condition." Lila looked at him again, confused. He stood and looked down at her. "If I'm going to do this, I'm going to need a second in command. Someone to make sure I stay on the right track, right?" He held out a hand to her. Lila looked down at his white-feathered palm and back up to his face.
"But--"
"Ah, ah, don't give me any buts, you just argued your way into it, and I'm not letting you off the hook."
"Wildwing, I'm a healer, not a fighter."
"Which makes you the perfect person to help me keep my priorities straight." He kept his eyes focused on her, and Lila knew she was trapped by her own simple logic. With a sigh and an ironic smile, she placed her small, light-brown hand in his. His fingers closed briefly over hers, then he released her hand and covered a huge yawn.
"Go to bed," Lila ordered, slapping him on the arm. "Doctor's orders. I'm right behind you." Wildwing grinned.
"Who's the leader here, anyway?" he demanded, picking up the Mask of Ducaine before heading out the door.