Quinlan's heart pounded in his chest. He looked at Mia and watched as her face twisted in bewilderment.
"Wh… what are you talking about?" she stammered.
"His blood… it can heal you!" Malaika cried. "It can make you see again!"
Mia stood staggered and motionless, as if she couldn't process the words that she had just heard. But when those words finally permeated through the defenses of her mind, she fell into denial and disbelief. "No…" she said, shaking her head adamantly, "the damage to my eyes is irreversible – there's nothing that can be done… it's not possible…" but then her conviction withered, "is it…?" Her eyes gleamed with eagerness, searching for an answer. But she was met with silence. "Quinlan…?" her voice trembled.
Quinlan couldn't speak, as if his heart had jumped into his throat, choking him. He swallowed uneasily, forcing down that crippling feeling of dread. His eyes lowered. "It's… complicated…" he said, his voice soft and faltering.
"Complicated?" Mia intoned, her expression becoming more severe as her confusion turned into agitation.
"Perhaps now is not the time to talk about this..."
"No!" she demanded. "Now is the perfect time to talk about it. How can your blood heal my eyes? I don't understand… What are you not telling me?"
Quinlan looked furiously at Malaika, his eyes screaming, "What have you done?!" And all Malaika could do was lower her head – she had betrayed the one person who she had sworn loyalty to… because for the first time, she felt compelled by something greater; perhaps… a sense of righteousness.
At that moment, Vasiliy came into the room to see what the commotion was about. But as he walked in, he sensed a thick tension looming in the air like a dark storm cloud on the verge of rupturing. "What's going on?" he asked, looking from one person to another, seeing their strained expressions.
Everyone was silent… but Mia had had enough of silence.
"Quinlan…" her eyes were pleading now, "why won't you tell me?"
"Tell you what?" Vasiliy perplexed, looking back and forth between them.
Quinlan clenched his fists and turned away, facing the darkest corner of the room, where the light from the hanging globe could not reach. In the blackness of the window in front of him, he saw his reflection… and he closed his eyes. He could have stayed like this forever, shutting out the world around him… but he knew they were waiting for his answer, and he owed it to them… he owed it to her.
He opened his eyes and looked down at his hands… at the veins beneath his skin, that ran full of vitality. Reluctantly, he began to speak. "My blood contains properties that allow rapid regeneration of damaged tissue," he spoke slowly and calmly, with a coldness that resembled confidence, though he felt no confidence at all. "It is how I'm able to heal quickly from my injuries… as you already know. But what you do not know is that… those regenerative properties can be transferred to humans – my blood can restore the human body the same way it does mine."
Quinlan turned around and looked upon the faces of his silent audience, who stood with indeterminable expressions. For the first time, the silence made him feel uncomfortable. He looked at Mia, hoping for a reaction… any reaction. But she showed none.
Then, Vasiliy laughed uneasily. There was a sort of hesitant disbelief in his laugh. "So you're saying your blood is some sort of magic healing potion?"
"It's not magic…" Mia said softly from across the room. The others looked at her, anticipating what she had to say. She stood with her arms crossed guardedly in front of her stomach, and her posture seemed withdrawn. "It's the basis of stem cell science," she said clinically. However the slight quaver in her voice betrayed her calm. "Imagine a blank cell that can replicate any other cell in the body – that's what a stem cell is. It can regenerate damaged cells, or rebuild entire biological structures… and that's only the beginning of its possibilities."
"So let me get this straight," said Vasiliy, "If I'm injured… say I had to jump out of a window with an exploding grenade behind me, and I break all of my bones… all I I have to do is drink your blood and I'd be as good as new?!"
"You do not drink my blood, Mr Fet," Quinlan corrected irritably. "You humans and your vampiric fantasies... The process would require a transfusion. And yes, your body would heal completely… provided you're not already dead."
"Well, that's handy to know!" Vasiliy scoffed sarcastically. "So I guess you were planning on keeping this a secret, huh? Well that makes me wonder… what other secrets do you have?" he glared at Quinlan with disdain. "What other important information are you not telling us?"
"I do not recall full disclosure being a condition to us working together," Quinlan replied absently. His gaze stayed on Mia as she stood silently across the room.
"I don't give a shit about the conditions!" Vasiliy burst out in anger… and only then, Quinlan's attention shifted to him. "It's about decency… and doing the right thing! Every time I walked in here bloody and bruised… with bullet holes in me… you didn't think to say anything?! Your blood could've saved lives! You know, we've lost friends out there…"
"You've lost friends," Quinlan coldly reminded.
At that point, Vasiliy stormed towards him, too enraged to be intimidated, and stood himself in front of Quinlan. "I knew I couldn't trust you," Vasiliy sneered, leaning in close. "You're not capable of compassion or sympathy. You might walk and talk like one of us… but really… you're no different to the creatures out there that I'd gladly put a bullet in!" he jabbed his finger threateningly into Quinlan's chest. Normally, if a man did that, he would already be dead. But this time, Quinlan simply stood unresponsive. "And just so you know," Vasiliy continued, "I was against the idea of trusting you from the start. It was Eph who said we could use your help. But he's not here anymore… so I got no problem putting a bullet in you." He gave Quinlan a final glare, looking him up and down, and then turned to walk out of the room.
"Fet…" Mia called softly, halting him in his steps. Her head was lowered and her hair had fallen in front of her face, hiding her troubled expression. "Can you take me upstairs? I think I need some rest…"
"Yeah… sure…" Vasiliy mumbled. "Come on…"
As Vasiliy led her across the room, Quinlan's eyes never left her; his gaze followed her, even as she walked right past him… close enough for him to reach out and touch.
Mia…
His hand extended ever so slightly towards her, and fabric of her coat brushed lightly across his fingertips. But she didn't pause as she walked by his side – her steps didn't even slow. At that moment, Quinlan felt as if he was merely a ghost and she had walked right through him. His face wrenched in anguish. He turned away, and listened to her walk out of the room.
At that moment, Malaika tried to make an inconspicuous attempt to leave. But as she walked past Quinlan with her head hung down, she suddenly felt his hand come down on her shoulder. Immediately, she cowered. She thought he would rage at her… scold her… or even clutch her throat in his hands and squeeze until her last breath – she wouldn't have blamed him if he did. However the rage never came. Instead, he only had one word for her – a word that hurt her more than any physical punishment he could have inflicted. He stood before her, and simply asked, "Why?"
Slowly and hesitantly, she looked up at him, trembling on the verge of tears. "Because she saved my life that night… so now I am saving hers."
The warehouse was quiet now – there were no clanking sounds of chores being done, no chattering of voices, or whining of children followed by the strenuous sighs of an exhausted father – perhaps everyone had retired from the long night to the comfort of seclusion. But once again, Quinlan found himself standing outside her door… silently watching her. This time, he didn't find her in his room; he found her in the room at the end of the hallway, that was previously occupied by Doctor Goodweather.
She sat on the edge of the bed, staring towards the street light shining in through the window. The nightly glow illuminated the fair skin of her face, and a small breeze from a tiny crack in the window fluttered a thin strand of her hair. Quinlan stood in doorway, staring at her with longing and regret. He could have forced himself to walk away like he always did. But that night, he refused. There was already enough that he regretted, and he would not let this be another page in his book of regrets. He had walked away from her once before, and it ended with him finding her broken, stripped, and covered in blood. He would never forget that night; it changed something in him… and somehow, he knew he couldn't walk away again.
He knocked softly on the frame of the open door, and walked inside before an invitation. "I didn't expect to find you in this room," he said.
"I like the change of scenery," she jested bitterly, without turning to face him. "If you don't mind, I prefer to be alone right now…"
"I prefer to talk," he insisted, firmly yet gently.
"About what?" Mia frowned, "About how you lied to me?"
"That was never my intention…"
"Then what was your intention?" she snapped, turning her head from the window and looking directly at him. She could see the shadow of his figure standing at the end of the bed, silhouetted against the light in the doorway behind him. Her eyes glared vehemently. "How long have you known about this?"
"I've always known…"
"And you didn't think it was important enough to tell me?! Why? Why didn't you say anything?"
"It is not that simple," said Quinlan. "I am not even certain it would work."
"I don't believe you!" she said, unable to hide the scorn on her face. "You just told us earlier…"
"What I meant was, there is a chance. But it would've been cruel of me to give you such hope without any certainty."
"Hope?" Mia scowled as fury coursed through her veins. "Let me tell you about hope. Hope… is when the best doctors in the country tell you you'll never be able to see again. But still, you travel to every corner of the world… and talk to every doctor and scientist… because maybe… just maybe… one of them might tell you something different…" her words came to a halt as her emotions stole the breath right out of her. Her body tensed, trying desperately to keep it together, but she was cracking at the seams. "Do you think when a person loses their whole world, they just learn to become content with it?!" she cried, her voice shaking with hurt and anger. "I never stopped hoping for a cure… and I would've taken any chance, no matter how small… so don't give me that bullshit that you were just trying to save me from disappointment!"
"I wanted to tell you, but there was never the opportunity…"
"Opportunity? What, were you waiting for the stars to align?!" Her rage propelled her to her feet. She stood in front of him, her eyes ridden with fury and anguish. "This whole time… you've been watching me fumble around like some sort of idiot – was I just a joke to you?! Does it amuse you to see how weak, pathetic and useless I am?!"
"Mia…" he had never seen her rage like this before, and it rendered him speechless. His regret was more than he could bear. He wished he could tear himself open and turn himself inside out, to show her the feelings inside of him, that no words could have expressed. He walked towards her and gently grasped her shoulders.
"No… " she jolted back. "Don't. I want you to leave…"
"No," he said, determined.
"Either you leave or I will!"
"Mia, just listen to me…" Quinlan grabbed her shoulders once again, but she writhed away and pushed past him, heading for the door.
Reactively, he stepped in front of her and blocked her way. "You are not leaving," he said, as he reached behind him and slammed the door shut.
Mia staggered back. Suddenly, terror filled her eyes, and she froze.
"Quinlan… open the door…" she said, her voice was shaken and unnerved.
"I need you to listen to me…" Quinlan demanded, stepping towards her.
But immediately, she staggered back again. Panic spread across her face. Something had suddenly changed in her, and there was no remnant of her anger now; only fear. For a moment, Quinlan was baffled and confused. He started to walk towards her, but she backed away, terrified.
"No… please…" she uttered. Her eyes were wide and intense, and when they looked at him, they were pleading – it was the same look he had seen in the eyes of his prey… when they begged him for mercy.
Suddenly, Quinlan realized what he had done. He remembered the things she had told him about her past… about how she had been in the hands of monsters… vile creatures who would have kept her in a room, just like he did now, refusing to let her leave. And he didn't want to imagine the things that came after that. He could see in her eyes as she relived those memories, and to realize that he had done this to her, he might as well have ripped out his own heart from his chest. Quinlan looked at her with the deepest sadness in his eyes. He wanted nothing more than to hold her in his arms… but he knew it was impossible now.
He backed away from her. "There is no need to be afraid," he said, "I would never hurt you, Mia – that I promise you."
He walked to the door and opened it wide, and stood in the doorway, far away from her. He watched as her fear slowly started to subside, and then what was left was uncertainty – she was uncertain of him, but also uncertain of herself… wondering if what she was feeling was real, or merely the demons of her own mind tormenting her. And Quinlan knew that he, too, would never be free from his demons. He never intended to be forceful with her that night; it was always his worst fear – the thought of it tore him apart. He just so desperately wanted her to understand. But he realised now, that the only way for her to understand… was to tell her the truth.
Quinlan stared at her solemnly, until he could finally manage to speak. "You asked me why I kept the truth from you," he said. "It was because… I was afraid…"
Her eyes widened, staring towards him, glistening with remnants of tears.
"I was afraid of what you would see. I was afraid that… I would lose you…"
