A/N: A spot of good news in a dark time. Enjoy it. Things are going to get a bit rough in the next few chapters.

The boy wheezed heavily, his breath coming in labored draws. His tiny frame looked small even on the child-sized mattress. It was the only mattress they had and it spoke volumes on Quinn's devotion that it was for a sick child. It couldn't be reused after this. It would be burned, but Quinn had gone out to find it himself when they'd realized Jared was truly ill. Quinn watched him with tightly leashed anger. The frustration of being unable to help was written in his eyes, in his whitened knuckles. Creedy could see how it hurt Quinn even to look at Jared. He knew his friend was ashamed of what he saw as his failure. Nothing Creedy or anyone else said could convince him otherwise. If he couldn't save Jared, he failed.

Though he would never admit it, Creedy was scared to death of that boy dying, but not for any good or moral reason. He was afraid that if Jared died, Quinn would give up and that terrified Creedy in a way not even dragons could. Without Quinn to lead them, what would they do? Creedy had no answer and that was answer enough.

"How long has he been like this?" Rio watched the child with a mixture of sensitivity and resolve. She and Quinn were alike in that way. They could face even the worst parts of this life unflinching. Unlike him, they didn't hide behind good humor because they were frightened of the pain. He watched them both as they shouldered the burden of Jared's life and envied their composure. She was responsible for the boy now, too.

"Two weeks," Quinn answered. "It started as a fever. Chills, aches, vomitting, but after a week the vomitting stopped and he started coughing."

"Wet or dry?" she asked.

"Dry at first, but it's been a heavy, wet cough for the last five days. We've kept him isolated up here to try to keep it from spreading. No one goes in or out but us." He indicated Creedy and himself. "And now you." Creedy tried very hard not to see the tears in Quinn's eyes. He hated seeing Quinn, the most capable man he knew, reduced to impotent fury.

Rio squeezed Creedy's hand once and touched Quinn's arm briefly. The unexpected touch was surprising, and over before Creedy could respond to it. She gave them both a small smile that had nothing to do with cheer, and everything to do with reassurance.

Creedy grasped Quinn's shoulder, his touch both gentle and firm. "Come on. You don't need to wait." He steered Quinn away from the little room as Rio sat down by Jared on the small bed. It suddenly struck him how similar they looked, both too thin, nearly emaciated. They had the same bruised looking eyes and pale skin, the same high cheekbones... Fire-eaten was the right word. Creedy shook off the thought and drew his friend outside into the hall. Rio had her charge. He had his.

Quinn sat down at the top of the steps. It wasn't often that he showed the hardship of being leader, but when he did, it was always to Creedy.

"She'll do her best, Quinn." He couldn't promise she would be able to help. They both knew that disease and sickness mostly meant death for people these days. Medicine was hard to come by, and knowledge of it was harder to find. Rio was a godsend in many ways.

"I don't want him to die, Creedy." Quinn blinked back the tears that couldn't come and stood up. "Let's go check on the others." Creedy heard what he didn't say as well. Let's go check on the others. Let's go check on the one's we can keep alive. Let's do something, anything, that can help. That was what Quinn did best. He helped who he could -- anyone he could. It was why they all loved him. It also meant they all needed him, so Creedy did what he did best and put on a smile.

"All right, let's make the rounds." The short walk up the stairs seemed to take forever before they were back among other people. Creedy didn't think it made either of them feel any less alone.

Rio sat cautiously on the edge of the mattress. He couldn't have been more than six or seven. So young to be so alone.

No more alone than you are, she reminded herself. At least he has Quinn and Creedy. She could tell Creedy loved the boy, too, and it was easy to see why. He was so vulnerable. A heart would have to be made of stone not to want to protect him.

His skin was pale but not sallow and covered by a thin sheen of sweat. She tugged down the edge of her sleeve to pat his face dry. No fever. His brown eyes opened slowly, but focused on her right away. He didn't look afraid which surprised her. It spoke volumes of his faith in Quinn that even a stranger on his bed couldn't make Jared feel unsafe.

"Hi, Jared," she said.

"Hi." His voice sounded more like a croak. She catalogued swollen throat along with the other symptoms. "Who are you?"

"My name is Rio." She leaned a bit more heavily on the bed now that she didn't need to worry about waking him. "I'm here to try to find out why you're sick." It was obvious from Quinn's description the boy had started with influenza, but if it had already turned into pneumonia, treating him would be much more difficult. She prayed to a god she wasn't sure of that she'd caught it early enough. The timing was right, but it was never a good idea to make assumptions. "Does it hurt here, in your chest?" Her fingers rested lightly on his breastbone.

Jared shook his head no. "Quinn is really worried, isn't he? I didn't mean to upset him." His little body shook as a cough racked him. She pulled him onto his side to be certain he wouldn't choke and sure enough, he brought up a bit of green phlegm. "I'm starting to feel better, really, I am."

"Oh, sweetheart, he isn't mad at you. No one is. It's not your fault you got sick." Rio eased him back onto the mattress. "I believe you that you're feeling better, but if I'm right, you aren't sick with the same thing anymore."

"What's the matter with me?"

She brushed his hair aside and rearranged his blanket to cover him better. "You started out with the flu, and now I think you've got bronchitis. Back in the days before there were dragons, people got it all the time. It's just... things like this are much scarier now. The important thing is that you're going to be just fine, Jared."

"So Quinn can stop worrying?" His brown eyes lit up from within.

Rio smiled, "Yes, Quinn can stop worrying. But for right now you should try to rest. Did you know Irving is making stew?" He shook his head. "Tell you what, you try to get a bit a more sleep and I'll bring you up some after I tell Quinn the good news, all right?"

"Okay." He wiggled around a bit to get comfortable. "Are you going to be with us now?"

Rio looked down at his sleepy face. "I just might. I'll be back soon." She waited until Jared closed his eyes and she was sure he was really asleep before she got up to leave. The lantern in the corner seemed somehow inadequate, but the soft light was easy on the eyes and probably easier to sleep with than a flashlight. No one would be down here anyway. Rio made her way upstairs to the store.

Seeing all those people in one place was still a bit of a shock. She felt constantly watched, which was true. She was the outsider here. It was only natural the preexisting group would be uneasy. What made her uncomfortable was the fact that she was also uncomfortable. Rather than relief at being surrounded by people, Rio wanted to find some place alone. Or with Creedy. She didn't mind being around him at all. Maybe it was just because she didn't know them, but somehow that answer seemed hollow, even to herself.

She wondered what was wrong with herself, but had no time to consider the question. She'd spotted Creedy's dark hair. He and Quinn were standing with Irving who was bent over his stew pot. Seeing them all together made her forget her introspection and smile. How could she not?

Irving, as she had discovered earlier, was a 6'5" bald man with a red handlebar mustache and more tattoos than she could count. He was absolutely the last person she'd expect to see cooking over a kettle. She had liked him immediately.

He spotted her first as she drew up beside them. "Back for more already?" he asked. His voice was pleasantly deep without being loud. It didn't carry, an effect she suspected he'd cultivated.

"Sorry, Irving, not just now, but I did promise Jared I'd bring him some soon." She glanced at Quinn, wondering if she was all right to speak freely around the big man. He must've understood the look because he nodded, so she went on, "He'll be fine."

Rio had never seen anyone actually sag with relief but that was the only way to describe what Quinn did. His entire body relaxed all in one breath. "Oh thank god. Thank god." Creedy clapped Quinn on the back, his relief also apparent but much less profound than Quinn's.

"He's still sick," she cautioned. "He has bronchitis, but the good news is as long as he stays warm and fed it'll clear on its own. The better news is he's not contagious. Get him some new clothes, wash him before he puts them on, and burn the old one's."

"So he's all right to be moved?" Creedy asked. His anxiety was clear to see. Still shaken from his encounter, no doubt. Of course they'd want to leave the area. It was the smart thing to do.

She forced a smile she hoped was convincing. "Yes, he's fine to be moved." Creedy's brow creased, uncertain. Before he could ask anything she turned to Irving. "How about that stew?" She was certain Irving saw through her, but he didn't say a word. He ladled a bowl of stew that was mostly thick broth and handed it off.

Quinn seemed to finally recover himself. The relief was gone and in its place was the kind of happiness that only comes in the wake of desperation. "I'll come, too." He couldn't stop smiling.

Creedy frowned a bit, but only said, "I'll be here when you're done."

The stew smelled delicious, but it burned her hand.