How do you keep living, when you know that you are dying?
It was the thought that hounded Rose constantly. It was one of the most superficial philosophical questions in the universe- something they put in cheesy songs and awful wall art with the goal of encouraging people to eat an extra slice of cake or take a vacation. However, it had taken on an all-new, terrible meaning for the blonde. On some level, she'd always acknowledged that she would probably never reach old age. Her health problems and allergies were varied and severe enough that the odds were decidedly not in her favor. Reaching 90 was probably not going to be in the cards for her.
Her 29th birthday was coming up in a month.
The doctors thought it was unlikely that she would see her 30th.
What she thought had just been normal exhaustion from a demanding job and her being "clumsy" had actually been the beginning signs of cancer- and it was everywhere. Her brain. Her spine. Her lungs. Her uterus. They weren't sure where it had started, and it didn't seem to matter either way. It was rapidly growing, aggressive, and too far gone for chemo or radiation to be anything but palliative.
Rose tells Steve and Bucky this after she finishes crying- and she thinks they take it surprisingly well. They comforted her and then took her back to their apartment, dressing her in one of Bucky's old shirts and then tucking her into their bed.
She doesn't hear about the destruction until after.
Once she'd fallen asleep, both men had left the apartment- but with two completely different goals in mind.
Steve wasn't used to feeling helpless- at least, not anymore. He'd always solved things with his fists, using the anger blazing inside of him to burn away injustice wherever he saw it. But he'd found that death came for the women he loved in the most insidious ways. It never came down to a fight. Instead, they'd be stolen in inches- wasting away while all he could do was watch. He'd forced himself down to the gym, trying to work out his anger using his body like he usually did, but the rage wouldn't quit. The grief he was feeling was endless, an inky hole growing steadily in the center of his chest, and no amount of punching or lifting was making it go away. It builds and builds until he suddenly combusts, screaming in pain as he destroys the reinforced equipment, ripping machines out of the floor and decimating the gymnasium, leaving a mass of torn metal and cement laying in his wake.
Bucky, his pain choking him worse than the damn muzzle ever had, had let the frigidness of the Soldier take over. He couldn't face her dying- wouldn't face her dying. It wasn't happening. Steve, he knew, would implode on himself, wasting time they didn't have while he tried to work through his pain. Bucky, however, had already reached the conclusion the blond would eventually come to.
They needed help.
-_-_-_-_Page-Break-_-_-_-_-_
Tony had been stuck in the lab for hours (or days- he wasn't really sure. They kind of blended together when Pepper was out of town), trying to fix one of the relays in his left gauntlet from their last battle. Frankly, the entire thing was a mess. He knew he'd probably be better off by just scrapping the whole thing and making an entirely new suit, but the fact that he couldn't fix it was irritating the fuck out of him.
It was insulting.
So, rather than do something productive, he'd shoved himself fully into "Project: I Like My Right Hand Better Anyways" with obsessive abandon. When JARVIS tells him that Barnes is requesting entrance, Tony doesn't really think anything of it, going off of the assumption that the other brunet is having trouble with his prosthetic. Bent over one of his work benches, digging through the circuits of his armor, Tony calls out a distracted greeting, only half paying attention to the former assassin come in.
"So, Terminator, what is it this time? Lose an arm wrestling contest with Wesson? Try and steal one of Foster's snacks?" There's nothing but silence from the other man- something that instantly draws the billionaire's full attention. Usually, Bucky has some sort of ridiculous, dirty story or sarcastic response ready for him. Barnes being quiet? That never happened. Even when he'd been at his most sullen, when Wanda had first begun "de-programming" him, he'd always had something to say. Granted it had mostly been apologies or the occasional insult, but it had been something.
Silence is…concerning.
Now fully paying attention, the billionaire turns around, doing his best to appear nonchalant while taking in as many details as he can, assessing his surroundings and running through variables that could lead to the former assassin's silence. When he finally faces the other man, it takes everything he has not to summon the emergency suit. What had come to visit him wasn't the Bucky he'd come to know (and become reluctantly fond of). This cold thing, standing in his doorway was the monster that had murdered his parents and so many other people, something born of blood and pain and that had thrived in it. Eyes black and shark-like, the man is frozen in front of the lab door, body the very picture of tension as he tracks Tony's moves with an eerie degree of focus. Resolutely swallowing down his nerves, Tony forces himself to relax, voice coming out just the tiniest bit tense.
"Soldier. What seems to be the problem? If you're looking for your daily dose of homicide, I'm going to have to tell you that's bad for your health- and mine." He eyed the intense look the man was giving him and amended his statement. "Judging by your face, I'm thinking its worse for my health." Again, he was ignored- only this time, the Soldier spoke.
"Stark. I need your help." Unwillingly a frown curled the edges of Tony's mouth, brow pinched with confusion.
"Help? I'm all for helping- but I have to warn you, I'm not really down for homicide right now. Unless it's HYDRA. I'm always down for a HYDRA murder party." The Soldier frowned, the expression pants-wettingly terrifying on his stoic face.
"No death. It's Rose." At the woman's name, some of the frost disappeared from the Soldier's face, Bucky starting to reappear from the hole he'd shoved himself into. All of the fake joviality melted off of Tony's face, shoulders bunching up as he scowled, nose flaring angrily.
"What the hell happened, Barnes? Is she okay? Did you do something?" Bucky ground his teeth, angry at the accusation that he'd ever hurt her, but also thankful that the other man was so willing to jump to her rescue.
"No- you have access to Rose's medical records. I need you to look at them. Again." Anxiety and curiosity burning a hole in his stomach, Tony quietly directs JARVIS to pull them up, flipping through her most recent visit as quickly as he can. At first, he can't understand what had upset the other man so much- all he can see is that the tiny woman had (yet again) managed to get into a fight.
Then he sees the CT scan.
And the next.
And the next.
As he reads, the blood slowly drains out of his face, panic and pain fighting for dominance as he reads through the reports. He doesn't understand all of the terminology (biology has never really been his specialty), but what he can understand paints a picture he doesn't want to see. By the time he finishes he's nearly gray in the face, eyes tight as he slumps on one of the stools littering his workshop. Bucky watches him with a grim frown, his own pain throbbing away in his chest, a second, unwanted heartbeat that he'd do anything to kill. After a moment of just staring into space, eyes darting as he processes the information he's been given, Tony straightens up, espresso colored eyes dark and serious.
"I'm not that kind of doctor, Barnes. I'm not sure I can do what you're asking. People have been trying to cure cancer for decades." Bucky scowls, clenching his teeth and forcing himself to hold back the tears that had been pushing at his eyes since he'd first heard Rose's diagnosis.
"I don't want you to cure cancer, Stark- I want you to save her. I don't care about anyone else." And, as awful as that was, he didn't. He wasn't Rose or Steve. He'd watch the whole world burn to keep them safe- would light the damn match himself if it would keep them alive.
Tony nodded grimly at his desperate plea, wiping a tired hand over his mouth while he thought. Even as he'd said he wasn't sure he could do it, he'd been running through options, frantically trying to think of a way to save the tiny blonde. The billionaire had a lot of "friends", but the people he counted as family were few and far between. Despite his best attempts to push Rose away, she'd managed to worm her way into his affections. She was a stubborn, self-righteous brat who tended to punch first and ask questions later but she was also just so god damn good. They drove each other insane sometimes, but he had a hard time imagining a world without her in it. If Darcy was his illegitimate love child, Rose was the sibling he'd never had- an annoying younger sister who was constantly touching his stuff and making terrible pop culture references.
He didn't think he could save her- but he'd never imagined he could be a superhero either. He'd never imagined that he could be in a relationship, or have a family like the one he had now.
Maybe it was time to stretch his imagination.
Taking a deep breath he straightened, shoulders rolling back as determination filled his body. Tony gave his desperate friend a grim smile, cracking his neck before abruptly striding out of his lab. Angry at the perceived snub, Bucky quickly followed him, quickly catching up with the much shorter man.
"What the hell, Stark? You're just going to walk away?" Tony rolled his eyes, ignoring the other man to continue with the task he'd set himself.
"Cool your jets, Manchurian Candidate. I'm going to help our thorny flower- but I'm not an expert in biology." The scowl on Bucky's face disappeared, rage disappearing as the beginnings of hope took its place. "I'm going to get Bruce."
-_-_-_-_Page-Break-_-_-_-_-_
Rose spends two days in Buck and Steve's apartment, curled up in their bed and wearing their clothes. Her own apartment was a complete mess, glass and other broken bits scattered all over and making the space a hazard to walk in to. Rose finds that she doesn't have the energy to go and clean it, too emotionally and physically exhausted to muster the strength to get out of bed. Neither of the boys complain, bringing her food and helping her push through the initial agony of the diagnosis.
It the thought that the boys may have to take care of her like this permanently that gets her out of bed.
She could recall, with vivid detail, what it was like when her leukemia was at its worst. She remembers the weakness and the nausea and the visceral, bone deep pain that followed her around like a shadow. It had been embarrassing when she'd had to have strangers help her dress and bathe. How terrible, she wondered, would it be to have people she cared about see her like that? She'd seen kids who had cancer like she had now, and the later stages were horrifying.
Would they want her when she couldn't walk? When she couldn't talk? When she lost control of her bodily functions?
She thinks it would be kinder to leave them- but finds that she's too selfish to do it. The only thing that hurts more than dying- the only thing that scares her more- is never seeing them again.
She isn't sure why that is, but she hates herself for it.
Instead of leaving, she latches on to them, desperately soaking in their faces and the feel of their skin on hers, trying to sear it into her brain. She doesn't know how much of herself will be left by the times she dies, but she hopes that whatever is there, remembers them. They've always been the one bright point of her life; even before she'd ever met them, they'd been the only good thing she'd had. She'd first learned about Steve when she was six- the first time she'd gotten leukemia. She'd been too tired to play with the other children, and too socially awkward to really make friends, so she'd found solace in the one consistent thing in her life.
Books.
She meets Steve in a paperback children's book by Rachel Barnes-Proctor. It had been worn and dog eared, the pictures faded with time and use, but she perfectly remembers the first time she saw his face. It had been an artistic rendering, as there weren't many pictures of Steve before the serum, but skinny, sick Rose had been instantly enthralled. She'd read about little Steve becoming big Steve, had read about him standing up against bullies and beating the odds, and had found the strength to push on.
She finds out about Bucky in high school, just before the closet and her second diagnosis. Unlike fake Steve, who'd helped her survive, Bucky had been his own kind of solace. The sniper had been significantly less famous than his lover and as such, reading material was much harder to come by. What she had read, had painted a picture of a beautiful man with an even more beautiful heart. She'd created a girlish fantasy when she was stuck in the hospital that he'd burst in and, despite the grotesqueness of her healing face, declare her the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen. Then he and fake Steve would run off with her and she'd get the happily ever after she'd always wanted. It's a fantasy that had pulled her through the roughest part of her life, the dream that someday someone would love her keeping her alive when all she'd wanted was to go to sleep and never wake up.
Now that she actually has them, she finds hope to be a terrible double edged sword. One part of her still dreams that a miracle will happen- that some higher power will finally let her have the happiness she'd been searching for her whole life.
The rest of her knows only one, inescapable truth.
Life is not kind, and it never has been.
-_-_-_-_Page-Break-_-_-_-_-_
Rose doesn't find out about Tony and Bruce trying to save her until nearly a week later. She'd resolved to go to work and continue like everything was normal- mostly so that she could avoid having to tell Darcy about her diagnosis.
Partly because a part of her hoped that acting normal would somehow magically make everything normal.
At first she ignores the two geniuses working together. The two "Science Bros" tended to gravitate towards one another like their enormous brains had their own gravitational pull. However, what was unusual was the secretive nature of their work. She's worried about an explosion (or another homicidal robot) when she notices how both of the men are treating her- like she's fragile, and a strong breeze could send her into an even earlier grave.
The final straw is when Tony turns in his paperwork on time.
She grit her teeth at the neatly stacked papers, dread sitting in her stomach like she'd swallowed cement.
"Who told you." Tony didn't even bother pretending like he didn't know what she was talking about.
"Barnes." Rose hissed, dropping the neat stack on the floor in a shower of paper as she punched the air in frustration.
"That wasn't his fucking choice to make! Who else did he tell? Natasha? Jane? The fucking janitor?" Tony rolled his eyes at her irritation.
"If he thought they would be able to save you? Probably. I'm confident both of them would make a bargain with the devil himself if they thought it would keep you breathing." Rose froze at his admission, eyeing the pouting billionaire with the thinly restrained horror.
"Is that what you two have been working on? You're trying to cure cancer?" Tony scoffed at the question, waving off the blonde's apprehension.
"God no- that's way too complex for us to tackle on a time crunch." Rose slumped, relief and disappointment mixing confusingly. "We're just trying to save your scrawny, ungrateful ass." She shot up straight, eyes wide as she gaped at the inventor.
"Tony- what? Why?! You two haven't left the lab in nearly a week! There's got to be something more important for you two to do!" At the blonde's anxious exclamation, the lackadaisical expression on Tony's face disappeared, uncharacteristic seriousness (and not a little anger) taking its place.
"Because, believe it or not Rose, people actually care about whether you live or die. And, if the fact that Barnes begged me to save your life wasn't enough, how about the fact that you're family?! If you haven't noticed, we protect our family- that includes everything from bad guys to stupid fucking decisions to stay quiet about being sick until you suddenly kick the god damn bucket!" By the end of his statement, Tony was borderline shouting, face nearly red in rage, hands gesturing sharply as he expounded his irritation. Rose could only gape at him, periwinkle blue eyes big and watering at the forceful display of concern. Bruce, who'd been quietly watching the two much louder people argue, decided to finally speak up, voice soft but resounding in the wake of Tony's tirade.
"He's right, Rose. You are family- and there's nothing more important than helping you right now. I know you feel like you don't matter to people, Rose, but you do." He gave her a dark, rueful smile, warm brown eyes deeply sad. "It may be easier to shut people out and pretend like your world is the same, but it doesn't make anything better. Let other people help you for a change. You aren't alone anymore." Rose swallowed thickly, determinedly blinking back tears before giving them both a hesitant nod. Despite herself, she could feel the beginnings of hope blossoming in her chest.
If anyone could save her, it was Tony and Bruce.
Satisfied that Rose would stop arguing with them (not that it would have stopped him from working), Tony went to turn back to what they'd been fiddling with, when a thought occurred to him. When he had been dying, Tony had hid the fact from everyone- partially in a misguided attempt to "protect" them, but mostly because he'd been terrified that the people he loved would leave. It had been easier to pretend he was okay, and easier to push them away before they could get a chance to do the same to him. Earlier, he'd compared Rose to the sister he'd never had- not because they looked alike or because she was some sort of genius scientific prodigy, but because of all of the other terrible ways they were alike.
Rhodey had been the first person outside of his family to see him. What's more, he'd helped Tony to really see himself. He'd made him realize he was more than what Howard and Maria had made him believe he was, pushing him to be a better version of himself.
Darcy was Rose's Rhodey.
When he'd been dying from palladium poisoning, the only people who'd found out were the people who'd seen him at his lowest- JARVIS and Fury. Rhodey and Pepper, the people he loved the most, hadn't found out until he'd managed to save himself. Steve and Bucky had managed to catch Rose at her lowest point, getting the truth out of her when she'd just been cracked open. Rose, it seemed, was setting herself up to repeat the mistake he'd made. The people who needed to know she was sick, did.
All of the people who deserved to know, didn't.
"Are you going to tell Darcy?"
-_-_-_-_Page-Break-_-_-_-_-_
Telling people you have cancer is hard.
It wasn't so much the diagnosis, as it was the way that people treated you after it came out. Some people ignored it, like if they acknowledged you were sick, they would somehow offend you. Others, like Tony and Bruce, acted like you would break if they gave you too harsh of a look.
Darcy was the worst.
She looked the way that Rose felt, but had pushed down so that she could function.
There was a moment of stunned disbelief before raw, untampered grief filled her face, navy blue eyes scanning Rose's body like she could somehow see the sickness and destroy it with her mind. The brunette swallowed dryly, pursing her lips as she thought. After a moment of thought she spoke, voice choked with pain.
"Chemo? Radiation?" Rose shook her head mutely, fighting back her own tears as she watched the desperation creep up Darcy's face. "So there's nothing? Gene therapy? Surgery? Something?" Rose shook her head again, biting her lip and giving up on pushing back her tears.
"No. It's too aggressive and too wide spread. Anything they do would be palliative." Darcy made a wounded noise, a scowl appearing on her face despite the tears leaking out the edges of her eyes.
"So we make something! We have some of the smartest idiots on the planet! Someone should be able to do something!" Before Rose could respond, Darcy sucked in a sharp breath, eyes wide and hurt as she gazed at her crying friend. "Is that what Tony and Bruce have been doing?!" The blonde nodded, taking shaky breaths as she tried to calm herself down, hands grasping her upper arms like she was trying to hold herself together. The brunette swallowed her bitterness over the fact that the scientists had known before her, focusing on the more important question. "And? Have they found anything?"
For the second time in as many weeks, Rose breaks.
Hope, when you're sick, is a terrible, beautiful thing. It is both your greatest buoy, keeping you afloat when the weight of your diagnosis threatens to drown you and the second greatest source of your suffering.
Hope was going in day after day with the thought that maybe, today they'd figured something out. Maybe her life wouldn't be one tragic "almost". Maybe she'd get to have the life she'd only just started living.
Hope meant watching her family fight to save her life.
Hope meant watching them fail.
They'd been collecting samples and running tests for weeks. Everything they tried ended up killing her outright, or accelerating the already aggressive disease. Extremis, the Cradle, serum- all of them went off of the basis of advanced cell regeneration and mutation.
Rose already had both of those things.
Cancer was the result of mutated DNA and unchecked cell regeneration. All of the "cure-alls" they currently had just amplified the regeneration, accelerating the tumor growth. They were going through other options, but every SIM they ran ended with her dying. Tony was getting more and more desperate, continuing a façade of optimism while getting progressively more haggard. Bruce's expression was always more honest, and it told her two things.
They were running out of ideas.
And she was running out of time.
Letting out great gasping sobs, Rose shakes her head in the negative, hands reaching up to cover her face as she begins to shake. Completely abandoning her irritation, Darcy quickly gathers the other woman into her arms, hiding her face in the other woman's hair as she cries with her. As she cries, Darcy's mind races, options appearing and disappearing as quickly as they came. Science and modern medicine were failing her friend- which meant there was really only one option left.
One she had hoped to avoid at all costs.
She had to call Damian.
-_-_-_-_Page-Break-_-_-_-_-_
Darcy's brother was a surprise for a great many reasons. For starters, Rose wasn't even aware that she'd had a brother- let alone a god damn twin. Finding out that he was also enhanced was somehow less shocking than the fact that he existed at all.
Seeing as he's Darcy's twin, Rose expects him to be like her boss- short, nerdy, and generally lovable.
Damian is none of these things.
Damian is a literal flaming asshole.
He flies into the compound like a drunken missile, body completely bathed in fire as it zigzags across the sky. His flight path his a jerky mess, the fire occasionally sputtering and leaving him dead-dropping dozens of feet before he catches alight again. When he finally lands, he does so as gracelessly as humanly possible, slamming into the lawn and leaving a smoldering crater nearly ten feet deep. Rose gapes at the enormous hole, shooting Darcy a dumbfounded look.
"Should we go check on him?" Darcy rolls her eyes, arms crossed and teeth gritted as she glares at the smoking crater.
"Nope. Just give him a minute. I'm sure the drunk bastard is just trying to figure out if his feet are still attached." There's a miserable groan from the hole before a pale hand appears, the appendage flailing wildly as it grasps the edge of the hole. After a brief, profanity filled struggle, Damian pulls himself from the crater, brusquely batting the dirt off of his leather jacket before wildly shaking is dark hair, spraying ashy dust around his body like a dog shaking off water. Satisfied at his cleanliness, the brunet straightens and shoots them both a cheeky grin, sarcastically waving at his sister before giving Rose a flirtatious wink.
She can't help it.
She swoons.
Damian, while clearly a natural disaster in human form, is ridiculously attractive. Rose had fully been expecting a short, stocky man with thick glasses and Darcy's coloring.
The only thing she'd gotten right was the coloring.
He has her same hair color and eyes, but unlike his twin, Damian is actually decently tall. Whereas Darcy was bodacious curves and soft features, Damian was athletically built with sharp, almost mischievous features, his mouth pulled up into a near permanent smirk. He was like every "bad boy" stereotype she'd ever read about, nearly radiating sin as hotly as he did actual fire.
Darcy was considerably less impressed, rolling her eyes and letting out an irritated scoff.
"Stop fucking around, Damian. I asked you here for a reason." Damian gave an exaggerated pout, batting his navy colored eyes ridiculously.
"Awe come on, Darcy Lou- no need to be a party pooper. No hug for your brother?" Darcy scoffed again, eyes flashing pale blue as she hissed at him.
"Not a chance you flaming psychopath. You're lucky I don't rip out your miserable throat, or let Clint take another shot at you!" Now Damian scoffed, leisurely strolling away from his "landing zone".
Or, more accurately, staggering away from his "landing zone".
Is he…is he drunk?
I'm going to guess "yes" for a thousand, Alex.
It's like nine in the morning!
I get the feeling he's an "it's five p.m. somewhere" kind of guy.
Thisis the guy who's supposed to heal me?
"You still sore about last time, Darcy? It was just a little squabble! No permanent damage." Darcy let out an inhuman snarl, nails subtly shifting into claws in her clenched fists.
"You tried to kill my boyfriend! You tried to kill me!" Now standing in front of them, Rose could smell the alcohol wafting off of him. It was like he'd dunked himself in a brewery before flying over. Damian waved off his sister's rightful anger, rolling his eyes at her "dramatics".
"I apologized for that. If you do recall, I was a little upset at the time. Besides, what's a little attempted homicide between siblings? You still have all of your limbs. Your idiot boyfriend still has his head. Everyone wins." Darcy hissed at him, clenched hands raised like she was only just keeping herself from strangling the other brunet.
"'Apologized'? You sent us a fruit basket with a bat mitzvah card attached!" Darcy's voice took on a mocking edge as she recited the card's contents from memory. "'Sorry about the attempted murder, PMS is a bitch'." Damian let out an amused snort, looking entirely too pleased with his half- assed apology. "We'd just asked you to move in, you insufferable prick. You know, so you weren't homeless."
The amusement falls off of his face, something cold and bitter taking its place. His eyes begin to shine pale gold, smirking lips pulling into a sharp, mirthless smile.
"Not everyone wants to join your 'super powered boyband' after getting turned into a freak, Darcy Lou. Some of us don't get a cushy job and a shiny boy-toy. Some of us just lose everything." The rage on Darcy's face faded a little, sadness creeping into her expression. Her hands dropped to her sides, shoulders drooping the smallest bit with the weight of her regret.
"I am sorry, Damian. You know I didn't mean to do it to you." Damian gave her a sarcastic smile, idly rubbing at the golden sun tattoo on his wrist.
"Yeah, well you always did give terrible gifts. This one just ended up being even shittier than usual." Before Rose could comment, her curiosity nearly killing her, Damian continued. "Besides, it hasn't been all bad. While you and the spandex Spice Girls have been off causing billions of dollars' worth of property damage I've been actually helping people. You know, traveling the world. Healing the blind. Curing the sick. And all for the low, low price of 'getting me completely trashed'." At the reminder of his abilities, the playful mask slid back onto Damian's face, navy blue eyes glinting mischievously as they focused on Rose.
"So- you must be the plucky assistant. Cancer's a bitch. 0 out of 10. Would not recommend." Rose gave him a weak grin, rubbing her neck sheepishly.
"Yeah, it's definitely getting zero stars in my Yelp review." Damian let out a delighted cackle, smirk softening into something that was almost an actual smile.
"Ooh sassy- I can see why Darcy wants to keep you around." Darcy gave Rose a fond smile, nudging the blonde with her elbow.
"Yeah, she's pretty special." The scowl reappeared on Darcy's face, her focus shifting back to her brother. "She also has two extremely overprotective boyfriends who will probably freak the fuck out when they figured out I dragged you into this. So you need to get on with the glow show, bro." Damian rolled his eyes, waving off his sister's concerns.
"Whatever, Darcy." The amusement disappeared from his face, seriousness taking its place. "Just remember, as soon as I do this we're even. I don't owe you a damn thing anymore. We're done." Darcy gave him a tiny nod, eyes sad, lips curved into a tiny frown. Despite the vehemence of his statement, the Firestarter was doing a poor job at repressing his own sadness, eyes and mouth tight as he quickly took Rose's hands into his own.
"All right, Rosie. This may burn a little bit, but I promise you're going to feel better after it." He gave her a smug wink, his hands beginning to shine with warm, golden light. "In fact, you'll probably feel better than you have in your whole damn life. I'm just that awesome." Slowly, the light began to creep up his hands, spreading down his fingers until it finally reached her skin. It hovered over her fingers, the light steadily growing in intensity and heat until Rose was almost forced to look away.
It then promptly flickered and died.
Rose blinked down at their joined hands, frowning in confusion.
"Was it supposed to do that?" Looking just as confused (and vaguely embarrassed), Damian cleared his throat.
"Nope. No- it was not." He gave his shoulders a little wiggle, like he was internally psyching himself up. "Right. Let's try that again." He shifted the entirety of his focus to their clasped hands, scowling as he visibly pushed himself to heal her. Again the light slowly leached down his hands, creeping its way over to her skin.
Again it flickered and then died.
He tried over and over, pushing the light with more and more effort until he was visibly sweating, teeth gritted as he tried to push his ability on to her. With every attempt, Rose felt the hope that Darcy had so carefully built in her flickering and dying as well.
Darcy had been so sure that her brother could heal her. She'd said her brother could heal anything- that he'd been traveling the world to do just that. He'd cured paralysis and plagues and other people's cancer, and all with little to no effort. More than that, his gift didn't discriminate against illnesses. He would have been able to cure everything wrong with her. No more asthma. No more allergies. She'd be able to run, and go out to eat, and actually pet Darcy's dog. It had sounded too good to be true.
Apparently it was.
After his twentieth attempt, Damian staggered in place, panting with effort. He reluctantly let go of Rose, running a trembling hand through his sweat soaked hair. Darcy gave her twin a concerned look, eyes darting between Rose's crestfallen expression and Damian's pained face.
"Well? What the hell is going on, Damian? Are you too drunk?" The brunet gave her an irritated scowl, idly cracking his neck.
"No I'm not 'too drunk'. It just won't take. It's like she has a shield or something on her. It's repelling my magic before it can reach her." Darcy placed a concerned hand on Rose's shoulder, giving her brother a panicked look.
"A shield? Like someone put a spell on her? Is it dark?" The scowl on Damian's face deepened, expression turning incredulous.
"'Dark magic'? Seriously, Darcy? You know that shit doesn't work on me. If it was dark I would have been able to burn it off of her." He eyed Rose for a moment, eyes glancing over the necklace resting on her collarbone before he dismissed it out of hand. As he eyed her, the irritation slowly melted off of his face to be replaced by a pained grimace. "It's not darkness. You know there's only one reason I wouldn't be able to heal her, Darcy." The brunette let out a vehement curse, tucking Rose into her side while she leveled a fierce glare at her brother.
"No, Damian- that's bullshit. They haven't interfered in a millennia! Why now? She doesn't deserve this!" Damian ran a tired hand over his face, navy blue eyes locking on to Rose's periwinkle. In them she could see a veritable wellspring of regret, his sadness and his irritation over his inability to help her etched into every line of his face. The despair she'd been feeling made a vicious resurgence, tearing her heart to shreds as it spread through her veins, ripping and burning its way through her body like poison tipped barbed wire. Damian watched the hollowness make its way from her bones and on to her face, the pain of all of the things she'd never have seemingly snatching the spirit from her eyes. He felt a pang of empathy, his own bleakness vibrating as it resonated with her own.
He knew how agonizing a life unlived could be.
He wished that he'd been able to spare her that pain- he knew how completely terrible it could be. Despite his feelings, and despite how hard he'd tried, one truth remained inescapable.
"I'm so sorry, Rose- but the only reason I wouldn't be able to heal you, is if you were Fated to die." Rose gave him a resigned nod, ignoring Darcy's angry cursing as she hunched in on herself, hands absently grasping her biceps as she tried to hold herself together.
How do you live when you know that you are dying?
Rose wasn't sure.
But it looked like she would have to find out.
Around her neck, the swan angrily flaps its wings, irritated by the push of outside magic.
~`~`~`~`~`Author's Note`~`~`~`~
…..ya'll okay? I know it's a little dark right now, but I PROMISE you'll get a happy ending. Eventually. At some point….Just take care of yourselves in the meantime. Also! Super excited about the next chapter. It's literally the first chapter I'd had written in my head and the origin for this whole thing. Let me know what you guys think! Thoughts? Comments? Wild speculations? Favorite lines? I love hearing from you guys!