Chapter 14: Cough

It was strange to wake up in a room full of other dragons after spending the past year sleeping in privacy. When I awoke, I suddenly felt like every dragon in the room was watching me, looking for flaws in my morning routine (which by the way was completely screwed up because I had been evicted from the library).

I checked around me to see if the rest of the gang was still sleeping. Clay was of course continuing to snooze away. Tsunami and Sunny were already up, and they were quietly talking together about - about what? I listened in.

"He just disappointed you again, and yet you keep defending him," Tsunami quietly said.

"Give him time, Tsunami. He'll come eventually. He's just…struggling to take it all in," said Sunny.

"I just can't understand why you loved him," said Tsunami.

Wait, were they talking about me? Why were they talking about me? And why could Tsunami not accept me and Sunny's relationship for what it was? All of a sudden, I went from sleepy to wide awake. Now, with all the anger that was flowing inside me, I decided to listen in. Why? Because I concluded that Tsunami and Sunny probably thought I wasn't here right now, since I hadn't come in until very late last night. Had they really not seen me this morning even though I was literally 5 feet away from them? Were they going blind too? But I had more important things to think about. Specifically, Tsunami's hatred towards me. So I decided to wait, keep my presence secret, my head held down and turned away, and see why she hated me.

"Because he's nice, that's why," said Sunny.

"Yeah, but he's a wimp," Tsunami said. "There are a million other nice guys out there who aren't your cousins, and I bet that they're not all total wimps."

"He isn't a wimp," said Sunny.

Wow. Sunny was defending me against Tsunami. To argue with Tsunami was akin to hitting her with a rock. Because she would fight back with her ginormous collection of insults, showing off her advanced vocabulary by using words such as "stupid", "twit", and "dumb". And she would not stop until you either agreed with her or felt threatened enough to say that you agreed with her even though you didn't. So if Sunny was defending me, then that meant she really loved me. Not as a boyfriend, of a course. But as a cousin.

This was the ultimate test. To see if we were true cousins. So far, she was passing it with flying colors.

"Why did you want him, though?" asked Tsunami. "That's what I don't get. Out of everyone, why did you love him? You two have nothing in common. You're an optimist, he's a pessimist. You're outgoing, he's shy. You're not annoying, he is. I mean, don't tell anyone I said this, but out of our whole group, I hate him the most. I just hate him."

That last comment stung. That hurt me badly. I could take being called a wimp. I just couldn't take Tsunami openly expressing her hatred towards me to others. I thought she disliked me; I didn't think she hated me. Unable to contain my anger any longer, I turned my head towards them.

Tsunami saw me first and went rigid. She immediately knew that I'd heard everything she'd just said about me. I could only imagine the panicky thoughts in her brain right now.

Sunny saw Tsunami go rigid, so she turned around and finally saw me. She smiled, but she slightly winced immediately after, her eyes looking back at Tsunami for a second before turning back towards me. I took her reaction as meaning that she was happy to see me, but worried because she was thinking exactly what Tsunami was thinking and knew that I was about to freak out.

"Good morning, Tsunami," I said. "Or wait - no - I shouldn't talk to you, right? Because you hate me."

"Don't…" started Tsunami.

"Don't what? Tell the truth?" I said.

"Starflight… I don't hate you," Tsunami frantically told me. "I was just trying to make a point."

"Tsunami, why do you hate me so?" I asked.

"I just listed my reasons. Weren't you listening?" Tsunami asked back.

"Yeah, but those were just things you dislike about me. That doesn't explain why you hate me," I said.

"Starflight, disliking and hating are the same thing!" Tsunami said.

"No they're not," I told her. "Hate is dislike with passion. Where does the passion come from? Did I hurt you in some way? Did I say something you disagree with? Are you jealous of me?"

"I'm not jealous of you," said Tsunami. "I just hate you because you're annoying. If you're annoying, I wouldn't hate you. But you are, and that's not my fault."

"Why am I annoying?" I asked. "Because I'm smart?"

"No," said Tsunami. "You're annoying because you show off how smart you are."

"When have I shown off how smart I am?" I asked. "Give me an example."

"Well, there was that time you convinced everyone else to use that empty space as a classroom instead of an auditorium like I wanted," Tsunami said.

"Tsunami, that's not showing off my smarts. That's called applying my smarts to real-life situations. An example of showing off my smarts would be shouting random facts into your ear all day to make you feel bad about how not-smart you are. But I've never done that, have I?" I asked.

"No, but you might as-" Tsunami started.

"You know what I think, Tsunami?" I interrupted. "I think we should stop arguing. You and I both saw what happened yesterday, and I think we can agree that we both don't want that to happen again. So can you at least try to be my friend, or at least tolerate me? Please?"

Tsunami looked at me, and then looked back at Sunny. Sunny was looking at Tsunami with a look of disapproval on her face. Clearly, she saw me as a victim of Tsunami's hatred. That was mostly true, but it wasn't the whole truth. I wasn't going to correct her, though. Sunny loves victims, not victimizers. That's just who she is.

"Tsunami, just stop," Sunny implored her. "You guys should be hugging right now, not arguing."

Tsunami gave me one last angry look before her eyes calmed down and her face relaxed. She bowed her head down and sighed.

"Fine," she said. "But only because I'm worried that you're going to make some completely insensitive remark about my dad and destroy me emotionally. Again."

"I would never do that, Tsunami," I said. "I'm not that cold-hearted of a dragon. I've considered it, but I've had the decency to not say it. But how about this: if I don't talk about your parents, you don't talk about mine. Unless we're OK with it, of course. Fair?"

Tsunami quickly nodded. "Fair."

A beat passed between the group where no one said anything. Tsunami was supposed to say something, though. This was the part where she apologized for verbally berating me. She'd forgotten her lines, though.

"Aren't you going to say sorry, Tsunami?" asked Sunny, reminding her.

"Oh, right," she asid, remembering what she was supposed to say. "Sorry. I guess I was just mad at you because I thought you hadn't shown up last night like you said you would."

"You're forgiven," I said. "And I'm sorry for being late last night. I had some daddy issues to sort out."

"Daddy issues?" asked Sunny. "What sort of 'daddy issues'?"

"Well, long story short, my dad is out of jail now. He's mentoring a young Nightwing dragonet named Silhouette to be a scientist in the future," I recapped.

"He's getting better, then," said Sunny. "Good for him."

I snorted. "Yeah, that's what I thought, until I realized that Silhouette was actually filing a complaint against him for being a terrible teacher," I said. "Which I joined in on, by the way, because I felt it was the right thing to do."

"Can I please make one joke about your dad?" said Tsunami.

"Is it going to be bad?" I asked.

"No, it's not that bad, I promise. Pretty please?" begged Tsunami.

"OK, but only if you let me tell a joke about your mom at some point," I said.

"Fine," said Tsunami. "But let me tell it, OK?"

"OK," I said. "Joke away."

"A scavenger could take better care of a dragonet than your dad," she said.

I laughed. "That's actually pretty funny," I said. "I thought you were going to say something bland and unoriginal."
"Like what?" asked Sunny curiously.

"Like, I don't know, 'he's a psycho', or, 'why'd they let him out of prison anyway', or, 'don't even try swapping dads with me'. You know, the usual jokes that people make about my dad."

"Well, I'm glad I managed to impress you," said Tsunami.

"I am too. It almost makes me think that you're a decent dragon," I said to her. "But then I remembered that you insulted the living daylight out of me a few minutes ago. Thanks, Sunny, by the way, for sticking up for me."

"It was nothing," said Sunny.

"Shut up," said Tsunami.

Later that morning, I was manning the librarian's desk, directing students to their desired scrolls, when a Skywing dragonet walked up to me.

"Hello there," I said to him, like I did to everyone else. "What are you looking for?"

"I'm not looking for anything," he said. "I want to talk to you."

"About what?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.

"Something important," he said. "Can we go in the corner?"

"Sure," I told him. At Jade Mountain, we encouraged students to openly discuss the issues they were having, both in school and in their personal lives. I had listened to dragons' self-aggravations many times, but this was my first time doing it since being unblinded. I expected him to start droning on about how school was too hard or how he had no friends or what-not. But he wasn't here to talk about anything like that.

"What is it?" I asked when we were safely tucked into the corner of the fiction section. "First of all, what's your name?"

"Name's Garnet," he said.

"Well, Garnet, what did you want to talk to me about?" I asked.

"I wanted to ask you a favor. I know you'll say no, but I just wanted to ask," said Garnet.

"There are very few favors I can't do," I told him. "So what do you want?"

"I want to take some of the medicine home, so I can bring it to my dad," he said.

I sighed.

"That's one of them," I said. "I'm sorry, but I can't let you do that."

"Please, Starflight?" Garnet begged. "He's really sick."

"He'll be OK," I told Garnet. "Now go. I've answered your question."

"No, but he's really sick," said Garnet. "Like, he's going to die if I don't bring it to him."

"How sick is he, then?" I asked him.

"He…" Garnet stopped mid-sentence, remembering something, tears forming in his eyes. "He…was coughing up blood when I left. I saw him. He didn't want me to know, but…I saw it anyway." Garnet's tears now came faster and faster from his eyes. "And he hates me, but I still love him. He's all I've got left. I've lost my mom…and I don't want to lose him too."

Garnet, unable to say anymore, then covered his head in his talons and started bawling, his pain conveyed in every sob, every wrenching of his body. I stood there in silence, and as I watched him, I considered patting him on the back to try and comfort him. I didn't because even though I'd never experienced grief before, I'd experienced sadness plenty of times. And from my experience, sad dragons just need to be left alone. If I'm crying, then I have to be crying about something, and you can't change that something. There are some who think patting someone who is sad on the back helps them be happy, but if anything, all it does is potentially injure them if you pat them hard. Let them become happy on their own, I say. It builds inner strength and character, something everyone seems to lack these days.

So I watch him silently, and then I see a young me inside him, and then I begin to cry. I lament my own lack of a mother, my own hating father. Yet Garnet still loves him, so much so that he would be willing to fly all the way back home just to take care of him. Why does he love him despite all the hate he's gotten from him? Why can't I love my dad back despite all the hate I've gotten from him? Do I still love my dad?

That didn't matter right now. What matters is that I have to tell this dragonet the truth, however harsh it may be.

"Look," I said, "I'm sorry about your dad, but I can't give the medicine to you. It's…hard to understand. This is about more than your dad."

"More than my dad?" Garnet asked. "My dad's life is at stake! What could be more important than that?"

"Trust me," I said. "Ask everyone else and they'll say the same thing. We need to save the medicine that we have, because we don't have much left."
Garnet looked at me, crying, and then without another word walked away from me, not even bothering to mention that this was as good a time as ever to use the medicine. Saving lives was exactly what the medicine was supposed to do.

That's not what the medicine was supposed to do, though. All this was supposed to do was hide Turtle's animus powers. Saving lives was just something extra that the medicine did.

Yet despite reminding myself of the medicine's purpose every time, and reminding myself that bringing the medicine to Garnet's father would defeat the purpose of this entire plan, I couldn't help but think about Garnet. He was without a doubt emotionally devastated by my rejection of his request. If he wasn't, then he was likely psychotic, so I was going to assume that he was emotionally devastated. Since he was emotionally devastated, he would probably withdraw himself and begin to slowly self-destroy all of his relationships. I pitied him. Yes, I also had a dead mother and a dad with some problems, but at least he loved his dad. I didn't. I think that was why I felt bad for him.

When Turtle came up to me later that afternoon to tell me about this really weird bug he'd seen with his friends in the forest earlier, I was barely listening. Mostly I was thinking about Garnet.

"And then Marine said she wanted to keep it, and we were all like, 'Eeeew! No!', and…are you even listening?" asked Turtle.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm listening," I lied. "Marine wanted to step on the bug, yada yada yada. Go on."

"You aren't listening," Turtle said. "Can you actually listen and pay attention to my story?"

"Sorry," I said. "It's just I'm…preoccupied."

"Preoccupied? About what?"
"Nothing. Finish your story. I'm listening now," I said.

So Turtle finished his story, which ended in someone whose name Turtle assumed I knew (he kept referring to him as "he", even though I had no clue who "he" was, but I had to pretend like I did) stepping on the bug and almost making Marine cry, but she got over the bug after 30 seconds, and that was the whole story.

"Now, what were you thinking about?" asked Turtle. "Before, you know."

"Nothing," I said. "I was just letting my mind wander."

"No you weren't," said Turtle. "You looked like you were thinking about something sad. Tell me."

"Why are you so eager to have me tell a sad story?" I asked him.

"I don't know, maybe it's because when you're like this, you're usually thinking about something important. So tell me," said Turtle.

After a little bit more of me trying to not tell Turtle about Garnet, I finally told him about Garnet. He was sobbing like an infant by the time I finished my little story.

"And then he walked away. And I haven't seen him since," I finished.

Turtle sobbed for a bit, then regained his speaking voice. "Why…why didn't you just let him take it?" Turtle asked me.

"Turtle, you know what happens if I let him take it. Right?" I asked him.

"Yeah, yeah, but still, it's so wrong. His mom is dead and now his dad is going to die too? I can't imagine anything like that," he said.

"Really?" I asked. "You can't imagine anything remotely close to what he is going through."

"Yeah," said Turtle.

"You can't imagine what it's like to have a dead father," I said doubtfully.

"That's not what I meant," said Turtle. "I have my mom. He doesn't."

"But you don't really have your mom," I said. "I mean, when was the last time you spoke to her?"

The mention of Turtle's mom got him to go quiet.

"A while," he said.

"It's the same for me," I said. "My dad's alive, but he's not really a part of my life. So in a way, it's like we're both orphans."

"Are you saying that it's OK if we let Garnet become an orphan?" asked Turtle.

"Of course not," I said. "I'm saying that I think we have a sense of what he's going through, and knowing that, I feel scared for him."

"Yeah, I'm scared too," said Turtle. "I…oh gosh, Starflight, imagine what his life is going to be like when…it'll be miserable. He'll have no one to help him. He'll be completely alone. I mean, no dragon should have to go through what he's going through,"

"It's messed up," I said. "But so is life."

"If only it weren't," lamented Turtle.

"If only," I agreed.

We just stayed there, by the fiction corner, in silence for a few minutes, trying to empathize with Garnet.

Thinking there, I realized that every single dragon I knew had parental issues. They either had a dead mom, or a sick mom, or a dead dad, or a sick dad, or an absent mom, or an absent dad, or some combination of those. How hard could it be for two parents to raise a dragonet without one of them either abruptly leaving or dying of a random illness?

It'd be pretty easy with the medicine, I thought.

Shut up, I told the thinking part of my brain. I was done with all of the medicine stuff. We'd already healed all the Rainwings that needed healing. There was nothing else that the medicine could do. It had already saved all the dragons it needed to save. Now that it didn't have anyone to save, it became much less important to me.

In fact, it mattered to me as much as my dad did.

That is to say, it didn't matter at all.