A/N: Okay, I lied! I said this chapter would be out sooner and it wasn't. I end up having a major crash (PEM) and it set me back a lot. Sorry.


Trigger Warning: reference to self-harm and suicide


"Don't worry," he would say, smiling. "Dying is much more difficult than one imagines."

― Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude


"So that's a no?"

"That's a no."

Luna smiled slightly, watching Raven. Even though her words hadn't been a test, she couldn't help but be pleased by the response they'd received. Relieved even.

But she'd known, even before now, that Raven valued individual life. That she wasn't likely to shove one person under water in order to keep a greater number afloat.

Luna had seen the proof of it - in a gun lowered to the ground, a weapon made useless.

She frowned, remembering Adria.

What she'd done.

On that day, Luna had valued individual life far too much.

Perhaps Adria's death had been a punishment. A reminder that forsaking her vow, putting one life before another, could never lead to anything good. Who lived and who died, that choice wasn't hers to make.

Adria was fated to die all along. Her death written in the stars.

Luna couldn't change that. No matter who she sacrificed. All she'd done was delay the inevitable.

(and yet a part of her didn't regret it. Couldn't regret those extra days she'd stolen with Adria. The days she'd sold her soul for)

It was a relief that she wouldn't be called upon to make such a choice again. That for once her blood had placed her in a position to save life rather than take it. Save it without sacrifice.

Though, the chances of that actually happening were dwindling by the day.

Praimfaya drew closer and closer - and her blood remained nothing but a curse inside her veins. It had yet to prove itself.

Perhaps it never would.

"How long do you think we have?"

Raven glanced over at her. "You mean of being stuck inside this hell room?"

"Until Praimfaya hits."

She occupied herself with the tablet on her lap. "I don't know, weeks? Days? I mean, it could be months but. . ."

"You don't think so."

Luna had feared as much.

Raven shrugged, still avoiding her gaze. "There's no real way to know for sure. Before we left Arkadia, my last calculations gave us about two months, probably less. If I was right then we still have over a month. But considering my first calculation was six months and then we lost four of those. . . I guess I'm just trying to prepare for the worst."

"I understand."

In truth, Luna was less interested in how long humanity had left than in how long Raven did.

She needed to prepare herself.

She hadn't been prepared for Adria. Or Derrick. Or Nyko.

Not Lincoln or Lexa, either.

Titus.

Certainly not her entire clan.

Costia's death had blindsided her like no other.

And even her brother. . .

Luna had known deep down that she would likely outlive him. That even if she didn't, his life would be brief.

She'd known but still. . .

She hadn't. She'd suppressed the knowledge. The terrible truth.

Suppressed it so well that the shock of his death had felt like enough to kill her too.

She couldn't be shocked by Raven's.

So she had to prepare.

There was a knock on the door and Luna flinched, something she was doing more and more of lately. It was a shadow of the past she thought she'd long since shaken off. Now it had returned to her, in the company of so many other others. Every day she felt them grow denser, darker. She couldn't help but think that soon it would be difficult to breathe through them.

Glancing up, Luna relaxed the moment she saw Emori poke her head in.

It was silly of her really. If a threat arrived at their door, it wouldn't knock. But instincts rarely obeyed logic. Her body had been hardwired a long time ago to react to all kinds of stimuli, stimuli that it shouldn't react to. Over the years, she'd worked to alter that wiring, rearrange it, even undo it. And now here she was, right back at the start.

It was as frustrating as it was devastating.

She focused her attention on Emori, allowing both feelings to flow throw her, waiting for them to depart. A certain stench, coating the air, tickling Luna's nostrils, made that easier.

"Special delivery." Their unexpected guest held up two bowls with foul-smelling goo nestled within.

Raven wrinkled her nose. "Please tell me that's for Murphy and not us."

Luna's mouth drew up.

Emori smirked a little as well. "Afraid not. It's to help with the rash." She glanced at Luna. "I added the skunklich like you suggested. Stuff smelled funky as hell but it's your body so whatever. If you want to stink from here to Yujleda that's your choice."

Luna smiled at her. "Thankyou, Emori."

She shrugged, setting the bowls down. "Wasn't exactly hard. Not like there's anything else to do around here. You know, except fuck."

Raven groaned. "I don't need to hear that. I don't need to hear anything about what you and Murphy get up to."

Luna hid a smile, though found that she could share in the sentiment. The mansion's walls weren't as thin as some but they also weren't soundproof.

"Your loss." Emori gave another shrug.

The somewhat sick looking grimace on Raven's face suggested she very much disagreed with this.

Luna had noticed that she seemed to become incredibly uncomfortable when confronted with references to anything sexual, as had been made clear yesterday when she'd interrupted a discussion the trio had been having about her apparent 'mysteriousness'. Though from Luna's own conversations - with Raven and Murphy both - her friend possessed no such discomfort when it came to actually engaging in sex. But some people were like that. It was easier to do a thing than it was to talk about it.

She hadn't meant to make Raven uncomfortable - at least, not to the point of running away.

Only, without realizing, Luna had fallen back into that familiar pattern of teasing that she'd so often enjoyed with Derrick. He'd been flustered by the topic of sex as well. Just a mere mention of the word had the power to leave him in a state of arrest. A power that Luna had shown no hesitance in exploiting.

Eventually, though, he'd grown past that. Grown more comfortable. Eventually, he'd come to return her teasing in kind.

(a regrettable outcome)

She'd assumed a similar thing would happen with Raven.

Had perhaps pushed too far.

At the same time, it was possible that Raven's departure truly had been due to her work. That Luna was proving to be too much of a distraction. Given the importance Raven placed on that work, it was certainly more than plausible.

Probably best to tread a little more carefully in the future, though. Just in case.

Luna shifted, running a hand through her hair, feeling the tangles that had already started to develop in earnest, mind drifting. Backwards. Easing into the past without thought.

She used to tease Lexa as well. Not about sex.

(well, not when they were children)

Had enjoyed making the other girl flustered, watching that normally impenetrable composure crack and fall apart.

Had gotten even more pleasure out of doing the same to Titus. For entirely different reasons.

'You love poking the pauna too much,' Sol had muttered, shaking his head. 'One day you're going to get squashed.'

He'd been helping her steal Titus' robes at the time so she'd felt the warning was a little like the river calling the sea wet.

Hypocritical.

But also probably more than a little correct.

She hadn't cared. Hadn't been afraid. Had never been afraid. Not of that.

('You're not invincible, you know?')

Luna looked down at her hands, at the skin that had once been cracked and raw, flaming with lesions. Skin that had healed. In the way no-one else's had.

It was hard to believe her brother's words when far too many times she'd been forced to face the evidence against them.

Maybe she wasn't invincible.

But she was certainly something.

Something not altogether human.

Or natural.

That's because you're not. You're no more natural than A.L.I.E. Than the Flame they tried to force inside you.

They'd been made from the same cloth, after all.

Luna's fingers caught in her hair, the harsh strands digging into her skin. A snag. She forgot herself for a moment, continued to tug, senses caving to the burn of her skin-

Emori's voice, penetrating her awareness, made her freeze. Hastily, Luna extracted her fingers, scalp hissing its resentment.

It was so, so easy to fall into old habits.

Easier than it had ever been before.

"Anyway, I'll leave you two to your itchy, smelly fun," Emori said.

She was gone before Luna could think to thank her again.

"She makes it sound like a yeast infection," Raven huffed, sitting up.

Luna didn't know what that was, though the expression on Raven's face suggested it was far from pleasant. Certainly not something she should aspire to.

Raven reached out an arm towards the nearest bowl, eyeing it with exaggerated suspicion.

Not for the first time, Luna's gaze landed on one of the pale thin lines carved into her skin. She'd noticed the twin scars on Raven's arms back when they'd still been at Arkadia and although they'd sparked her curiosity, Luna was always careful not to linger on them too long. Everything she knew about Raven suggested that she would be made deeply uncomfortable if she ever caught her looking.

The sight of the scars wasn't shocking. She'd glimpsed similar ones on the bodies of so many in Floukru, hidden or not hidden in various locations. Some made solely with the intent to harm, others with a far more permanent solution in mind. She knew scars like these. Knew them well.

But they still hurt to see.

Luna traced her thighs absentmindedly, feeling the thin barrier of fabric, as she gazed at her friend.

What happened to you, Raven?

She looked away.

Luna wouldn't ask. Not yet. Perhaps not ever. She was still testing the waters of what Raven was comfortable with - and Luna knew that, at this point in time, any scars she might inadvertently come across were off-limits.

"Ew." The grunt drew her gaze back to the object of her thoughts. Raven had apparently dispensed with caution and raised one of the bowls to her nose. "Are you sure this stuff is worth it? Because it smells like shit. I mean, actual shit. I'm not exaggerating."

Luna nodded, reaching for her own bowl, not quite finding the heart to smile. "It will help with the itchiness. I'm sure of that." She'd used it before. A recipe of Nyko's. He was very attached to the idea that the worse something smelled, the more effective it proved to be. Luna wasn't wholly convinced of that herself but in this case he was correct.

An aggrieved sigh met her words. "Fine. But if this is some trick just to make me smell like shit, I will make your life a living hell."

This time, the muscles of Luna's mouth managed to respond, draw up. "Noted."

For a moment, she wished it was a trick.

Then Raven would have to stay alive long enough to carry through on her threat.

Her promise.

Grumbling to herself, Raven set to work on applying the mixture, grimacing as she rubbed it between her fingers.

(she'd be grateful for the concoction soon enough)

Carefully, Luna peeled off her jacket, shirt dragging painfully with the action. It cut across her skin with every inch, igniting the memory of training sessions long past: fabric congealed with blood, buried in cuts, oozing flesh. . .

It was a slow process and she shivered the moment the layer was gone. Despite the fever, it felt like she'd decided to go sunbathing in the middle of winter - her muscles frozen in a state of agonizing stiffness as a result.

Abby had advised that wouldn't last. Once Luna's brain stopped ordering her body to raise its temperature, the cold would fade away. In fact, she might even start to feel uncomfortably hot.

This fell in line with her past experiences being sick. Personally, she hoped it would hurry up.

She'd always hated the cold.

Would far prefer to be delirious with heat.

The cold was loneliness. Night. Stranded in the woods with nowhere to go, no-one to turn to.

Cold was death.

Heat was the fire that crackled through the winter in their dorm. Heat was Sol's body flanking hers, Costia's breath against her neck, Lexa's hands sealing around hers. Heat was Derrick's chest against her back as he held her close, Adria's playful kisses across her face. . .

Heat was life.

Home.

(these days, all she felt was cold)

Holding up her hair with one hand, Luna rubbed the ointment into her neck, closing her eyes as the itching ceased almost instantly. The relief would only be temporary but it would still gain them an hour or so at least. Perhaps enough time for Raven to even get some sleep.

There was a groan to her left. "Okay. . . I don't hate it so much."

Luna smirked, moving on to her shoulders. Easy enough. But the material of her shirt pressing into the inflamed skin of her back brought to attention one particular problem:

there was a limit to her flexibility.

Luna bit her lip.

She knew there were only two options available to her.

Only one of them truly viable.

She'd contended with the itch so far already. Knew that she would be able to make it until Abby arrived later. It would be uncomfortable but Luna had learned a long time ago how to bear discomfort. A little itchiness was a drop in the ocean compared to her previous trials.

Resolved, Luna placed the bowl on the bedside table and resumed her seat on the bed.

There was a heavy sigh and she turned to see Raven watching her with abject defeat, her own bowl in hand. "You need someone to do your back, don't you?"

Luna smiled. "No. It's fine. Abby will be here in twenty minutes."

Raven snorted. "Yeah and that's twenty minutes too long. This shit itches like crazy."

Not untrue but. . . "It's fine, Raven."

The mechanic had displayed various signs of malfunctioning on every occasion Luna had been topless. Clearly, Raven wasn't comfortable with nudity and she didn't want to pressure her into doing something that so clearly wasn't welcome. Even if she agreed, Luna didn't know how Raven would manage to put any ointment on her when she couldn't even look at her.

For a moment, she longed for Derrick who, whilst awkward with touch, had never hesitated to place his hands on her, to give her what she needed.

But Derrick was dead.

And Raven was not him.

(she was something altogether different)

Another sigh. "No, it's not." Raven stepped towards her, shoulders set. "Alright, take off your shirt. Let's get this over with."

Luna hesitated. This seemed like a recipe for disaster. The last thing she wanted to do was play a part in Raven torturing herself. "Are you sure?"

"Yep." Her eyes very clearly said no.

But there was determination blazing within them as well and Luna knew there was little point in arguing further. Raven was stubborn. Even about the things she didn't want to do.

"Alright." Luna turned around and began the painful process of lifting her shirt. Up and off. A far from pleasant task. Her joints had started to ache several hours ago and the material stuck to her sweaty skin, aggravating the rash with every move. It didn't just itch, it burned, stinging in the areas which Luna suspected had already blistered.

As those areas were brought into greater focus, the rest of her body began to tingle, then hiss. Patches of flesh igniting with phantom echoes, rising to encompass the skin of her face. And her hands.

Her insides turned, like she might throw up.

Luna took a deep breath.

Don't think about it.

The past can't hurt you unless you let it.

Exhaling, she drew the shirt over her head. Her stomach, prone to cramping intermittently, twisted in on itself at the action. Luna ignored it, pulling the rest of the aged fabric off.

Task finally accomplished, she held the material against her chest. For Raven's sake.

There was a hiss behind her. "Gotta say I'm glad I only got it on the arms. This is going to be a bitch to sleep on."

She wasn't wrong. Luna had already felt the sting from lying on her back throughout the day.

"I'll sleep on my side." If sleep was even possible. Luna wasn't sure she wanted to make the attempt. Not after the last two nights. "It's how I like to sleep anyway."

But only because she usually had someone resting beside her. Someone to wrap her arms around, or nestle back into. Someone to embrace or be embraced by. But she hadn't had that since Nyko died.

Would likely never have it again.

Fingers hit her skin without warning and Luna inhaled sharply.

They sprung away. "Sorry. Cold hands?"

"No." Yes, but only because her skin was so blistering hot right now, pulsing with a sickening heat that turned to ice inside her. Hot and freezing, she felt both at the same time. A dizzying contrast, like her body didn't know where to settle, where to rest.

Raven's hands weren't cold at all.

Quite the opposite, they were beautifully warm. Just as always.

(it was one of the many reasons Luna loved to hold them)

"I just got a surprise."

"Right. Ready?"

Luna nodded and fingers met her back once more. She closed her eyes at the sensation. Wishing she could blame it on the soothing nature of the ointment and not how touch-starved she'd become.

But there was no truth in that.

Raven's hands felt amazing, and Luna's skin buzzed with every brush of contact, sending a thrill to her heart.

Selfishly, she considered not asking Abby to do this the next time so she would be forced to engage Raven's services again.

The doctor's touch was cold. Distant. Thorough. There was no relief in it.

Nothing Luna wanted.

Instead, Abby's touch reminded her of the Fleimkepas. There to serve a purpose and only a purpose.

(just like Luna)

She'd never felt warm when they touched her. Never felt anything except an underlying stir of discomfort.

With Raven she felt too much.

Perhaps because her body recognized her as safe. As a source of comfort. Relief.

If Luna could, she would seek out Raven's touch constantly. With every breath.

She enjoyed their occasional attempts at meditation far too much for the sole reason that they gave her freedom to linger in that touch.

Even as it made her feel like she was sixteen again, desperately searching out any excuse she could find to touch Derrick, who had been a tad flighty in the beginning, easily spooked when he wasn't the one initiating - but then she'd been the same. Luna had jumped out of her skin the first time he'd attempted to hug her. She'd been desperate for contact - but unused to and unsure of how to receive it.

Such a shift from her childhood.

There'd been no uncertainty then. No hesitance. Even with Lexa. Despite her early caution with respecting the younger novitiate's boundaries, a time had come when that caution was no longer necessary. When they'd reached a point in their friendship that touch could be tolerated - even appreciated. When that time came, Luna had ploughed through all of Lexa's protests like they hadn't existed, latching onto the grumbling girl like an octopus.

Lexa had dubbed her a menace with tentacles and Luna could admit now that she'd been right.

Thankfully, she'd learnt some restraint since then.

Closing her eyes, she inhaled the feeling of Raven's hands, knowing they wouldn't be there for long; resigning herself to the fact.

Luna could content herself with brief touches and the rare meditation session.

She would have to.

Raven's comfort was more important than her own need.

A hand moved some of her hair aside, fingers brushing across a rash that had broken apart in a blister, and Luna bit her lip. For a moment, she felt larger hands on her skin, rougher hands.

Tried to ignore the sensation, desperately striving not to sink into it.

Failed with the next brush of skin.


The man's fingers were gentle, feather-light against her flesh.

Luna felt them like the sharpest of blades.

"Sorry. Your back is a battleground. This will not be pleasant."

Water poured onto her unprotected skin and she shivered against the sting. Hungering for the sharpness of its distraction a moment later when he touched the middle of her back, inspecting one of the wounds there, before applying yet another ocean of water.

Luna pressed her face into the blankets under her, hoping it would muffle any noises that might escape. The pain was secondary. Familiar. Like an old friend come to visit again, though they'd barely left for a moment.

But the touch?

That was excruciating.

How long had it been since anyone had touched her in such a way? To heal instead of hurt? A touch that wasn't meant to be feared but welcomed?

For one terrible moment, Luna thought she might cry.

(heard Titus' voice lashing in her head. The scorn of it drying her tear ducts.

Crying was for the weak)

The years had melted together in an indistinguishable pile of murk. But she knew the last person to touch her with kindness had been an old lady who had opened her home to Luna in an hour of need. Sat her down by a fire and fed her more than her starved stomach could take.

When had that been?

Luna didn't know.

All she knew was that she'd been the last kind person to cross her path, the last person who hadn't sought anything from her.

Nomads had torn through the house come morning. Killed the woman as she sat, tending her garden. Luna had been asleep by the fire at the time, coaxed into peace by the unfamiliar heat and fullness in her belly. Had woken to the familiar sound of gurgling as a throat was severed.

She'd come very close to killing again that day.

Had clenched her hand around the handle of a knife, imagining the path it would wreak across their own throats. How easy it would be. How right.

They didn't deserve to live

(but then neither did she)

Luna might have slipped out the window, into the woods. Ran. But that would have left them to continue on their bloody path. To kill again. She'd chained them to a well instead and procured the services of a neighboring child to contact the village leader.

Their fates would not be her decision.

(Luna still wondered if that had been mercy or weakness)

She'd stayed away from people after that.

Had stayed away from everything.

Lost herself in the woods, in the dark.

Until now.

But this had not been her choice. Luna had not sought this man out. Had not fallen willingly into his grasp.

He'd found her.

She'd never asked to be found.

Her gaze flickered to the side of the boat. Nowhere to run. And she could not swim.

Luna considered diving over the edge regardless.

"Dash that thought from your head," a voice scolded. The man. She'd almost been able to block his presence from her mind. "I've already had to fish you out once. I have no desire to do it again."

Then don't.

Luna sighed, hid her face in the blankets once more.

"You're lucky I was diving for abalone near where you fell. Any longer in that water and you wouldn't have made it."

Luna neglected to agree with this statement.

One man's luck is another's misfortune.

"Now, this next part will hurt."

It all hurt.

The thick fabric covered her hiss as something rough and bristled raked her skin, talons dragging through seething wounds. A brush?

"Coral. Tiny particles get into the cuts. Can cause infection," he explained simply. "They make the worst wounds. And some are toxic. Deadly. So I will have to apply a special ointment. But first they must come out."

Luna said nothing as he scraped the wound raw. The pain was preferable to the gentle press of his fingers.

She knew how to endure pain.

"You haven't told me your name."

Luna remained silent.

"I've told you mine." Derrick. "And I just saved your life. It would seem only fair."

Names were powerful things.

The old lady had been a tri-wilou. Refused to give Luna hers, or accept any in return.

('Hold onto your name, girl. It's the only thing in life that's truly yours. So give it away with caution. So many curses are built on names. And so many blessings too.')

Superstition.

Luna thought they were powerful for another reason. There was an intimacy in names. A closeness.

Could you be known without a name?

More water hit her skin and she closed her eyes.

Luna didn't want to be known.

Didn't want to be touched.

(and craved it more than anything else)

"I suppose I will just have to give you a name then. . . I had a horse called Dawn once, as a child. Flighty thing. But very affectionate. Very loyal." He paused a moment and although Luna couldn't see him, she could hear something heavier slip into his tone for a moment. A weight. Sadness. But when he spoke again, it was gone. "You look like a Dawn, I will call you Dawn."

Luna frowned. Sol was better suited to the dawn than her. He was the sun. She was closer to the night. The dawn only came when she was gone.

It was on the tip of her tongue to correct the man, to give him her real name, but she bit into the tissue instead. Held silent.

Her name was all she had left.

All she would ever have left.

She would not give it away.


'El que me nombra, me rompe. Whatever names me, breaks me. The solution, of course, is "silence." But the truth is, anyone who knows your name can break you in two.'

- in the Dream House by Carmen Maria Machado


A/N: this is probably my favorite chapter out of all the Raven/Luna being sick chapters that I'll be writing. I think also you can see a hint of Luna's feelings for Raven starting to evolve beyond friendship

tri-wilou = wood witch [canon word]
skunklich = stink weed [mine] from skunk and leech

Next time: Raven discovers she has a slight tattoo fetish