A/N: to that person who made that tik tok of Luna and Nyko from this fic, that was honestly so touching to see, thankyou! If you guys ever edits/art for this fic PLEASE let me know, I would love to see them! I love knowing that my writing means enough to inspire you guys to do stuff like that
'You are so brave and quiet I forget you are suffering.'
- Ernest Hemingway
The fever was unrelenting. Continuing to rise against Raven's best hopes. She bit her lip, watching the blood pool in Luna's cheeks, the deepening flush to her skin as she lay sprawled upon the bed, breathing heavily. She'd risked laying a hand against that skin only minutes before. Had come away feeling like she'd reached into an open fire.
It was the shivering that distressed her the most. The violent vibrations consuming Luna's body as sweat beaded on her forehead. Raven wanted to try and warm her up, considered ordering Murphy to get some more blankets, maybe a heat pack, but she didn't know if that was smart given the climbing fever.
What the fuck was the right course of action here?
She was a mechanic, not a doctor - and for good reason! Sick people freaked her out. And a sick Luna freaked her out more than most.
"You look worried."
Raven struggled to trample her nerves, to force some degree of levity into her expression. Though Luna seemed to be managing that well enough for the both of them. Compared to Raven, she was the picture of unfazed. There was even a weak note of amusement touching her eyes.
"Well, your fever's higher. Some would call that grounds for worry."
"I've had worse."
Sure, but this time Luna's blood wasn't going to protect her - the only benefit of radiation poisoning. Against this, her blood was powerless.
"That time I was sick as a child, I nearly died. I fell into a four-day sleep. Wouldn't eat or drink, threw up anything and everything that they tried to force down me. Everyone thought I would die. But I didn't." Luna's eyes were firm, though they did little to counteract the relative weakness of her voice. "I'll be okay."
Yeah, well. . . Raven would believe it when she saw it.
"You've had way too many near-death experiences for one person."
Luna smiled a little. "What's that phrase? Pot calling the kettle black?"
She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, okay. Good point."
Fingertips brushed lightly against Raven's and she froze.
Luna continued to smile. "One good thing about having so many near-death experiences? You know just how much you can survive. " Those fingers drew closer again, twitched - and Raven had the distinct impression that they were seeking to close the distance, to take hold. But they didn't. "Trust me when I say you have nothing to worry about."
The statement might have been successful - if it wasn't followed in the next instant by a hacking cough. The worst one yet, by Raven's estimation. Luna's body heaved with the effort, curling in on itself as she fought to cover her mouth. Grimacing, Raven massaged her back, feeling the force of her convulsions.
"Well, that sounds terrible." It took a lot of effort to keep her voice bland - dry even - but somehow she managed it.
Luna snorted, then choked. The next cough to devour her was sharp and her whole body jerked. Raven knew, just from the sound, that it had to hurt like hell.
"Shit."
Eyes widening at the curse, Raven almost didn't react in time as Luna lurched forward, over the side of the bed. Oh. That kind of shit. Quickly, she snatched the bucket a short distance away, shoving it into place under Luna's face before she could give them cause to relocate to another room. A clean one.
Instinctively, Raven latched onto her waist as her weight began to carry her off the bed. Luna was either too consumed with her current trial or too weak to stop her own fall. So Raven held tight, grunting as she pulled her back up, just enough so she was no longer in danger.
(ignored the way her hip hissed at the daring manoeuvre)
Fine, my ass.
This was getting ridiculous.
"I should get Abby," Raven said, when the vomiting had - finally - ceased.
"Not necessary," Luna breathed, shakily lying back against her pillow.
"Like fuck it isn't!"
"Language."
Raven scowled. "Seriously?"
Luna's mouth twitched faintly but her eyes remained shut. "I just need to rest."
"I think you need a little more than that."
Luna ignored this. "And she'll be back soon for her checkup, anyway."
"There'll be nothing for her to check up on if you've shrivelled up from dehydration." Or been burnt to a crisp by this fucking fever.
"Dehydration won't be a problem." She lifted her wrist weakly, demonstrating the catheter in her hand. "I just need to rest. And Abby can't help with that."
Raven pursed her lips, not pleased - or convinced - in the slightest. But this was Luna's show, not hers. "Fine. But if your fever gets any higher, I'm calling her."
There was a pause, then she gave an imperceptible nod. "Okay."
Jaw clenched, Raven watched her a moment, taking in the shaky rise and fall of her chest, the heavy sweat on her skin, juxtaposed by the calm set to her face.
She clearly wasn't worried. Whether that was wisdom or stupidity, Raven didn't know, but she'd resolve to follow her lead for now.
But only for now.
Grunting, she rose to her feet with some effort and made her way towards the door with the bucket. Murphy Time again.
She couldn't even bring it upon herself to find any pleasure in the fact.
If torturing Murphy doesn't bring me joy, then shit must really be dire.
"Luna?" Adria whimpered as her body fell back, exhausted from throwing up for the fourth time in only an hour, barely able to find the strength to roll from her side onto her back. Luna helped her progress, careful not to touch any of the places she knew were covered with lesions.
"Shh, it's okay," she hushed, smoothing a hand across Adria's face, coming away damp with sweat. Luna knew if she touched her own, the result would be the same. Moisture trapped the fabric of her clothing against her skin, which shivered every time a breath of air happened to assault it.
But she barely noticed.
The cabin was choked with the sound of hacking as the rest of her clan suffered through the same indignities as Adria. Some, like Luna, still had enough strength to tend to the sick and dying, but that strength was waning.
"We're almost to the shore, and then we can find Nyko. He'll help us."
She knew the name meant nothing to Adria. She'd never met him. Had no reference for how he could aid them now. There was no comfort in his name.
But Luna had no other comfort to give.
Adria groaned, clutching her stomach, this time with pain rather than nausea.
Luna wished there was something she could give her, some sort of herb that could ease her suffering if nothing else. But there was none. The pain was too severe.
Adria cracked her eyes, peering blearily up at her. "Am I dying?"
Luna swallowed, the smell of death still clung to her nostrils. They'd lost seven so far. Mostly the young and the old. Zeke had passed in his sleep. The third to die.
Luna had held his hand through his last, crackling breath. For once, he'd had no insults for her. No judgments. He'd been nothing but silent in the hours preceding his death. Already gone from her. Stolen.
(everything was being stolen)
Luna could still feel the impression of his cold, papery skin against hers.
Wiggled her fingers to shake the sensation free.
Am I dying?
"No." It may very well be a lie but the truth would bring no comfort to Adria, nor would it aid her. She needed as much hope as she could grasp, if she was to maintain the will to fight this.
And Luna had to believe that there was still hope. Had to.
There was no other option.
(none that she could endure)
"No, you are not dying."
Adria's expression remained still, like a lake. "Reed is dead."
Luna looked down. The toddler had been the first to go, four hours before baby Flo had passed in her sleep. Luna had been present for both their births. Had held their heads in her hands, so fragile but strong, cradling them as they entered the world. There'd been such peace in the moment she placed them in their mothers' arms - such hope.
All of that was dashed now.
Luna could still hear Anora's screams echoing in her head as she clutched the baby's stiff form to her chest, how different they were to the screams that had heralded her daughter's birth.
There was an agony in those cries Luna prayed she would never have to feel.
She drew closer to Adria, as if that would somehow fend against such a fate.
"Reed was very young. His body couldn't fight this."
Adria frowned. "I don't know how to fight."
"It's not that kind of fight," Luna murmured, laying a cool cloth on her cheek, exhaling as she watched Adria's face ease slightly with the relief of it. "You don't need to do anything but stay here. With me. Your body will handle the rest on its ow-" Luna broke off, her own body choosing that moment to betray her, to force her into a coughing fit.
Adria watched her, eyes bleak and subdued, as she allowed it to pass. "Are you dying?"
Luna frowned, before lowering herself onto the pile of blankets beside Adria, tucking an arm around her and ignoring the overwhelming stench of bile. "Not yet."
"I don't want you to die," the confession was almost inaudible, Adria's eyes hidden from hers.
Luna bit her tongue, and wound herself even tighter around her, as though the strength of her hold could ward off the spectre of death. "Don't you remember? I'm not going anywhere without you. Not ever."
"Promise?"
"Promise." Luna felt confident enough to swear this. Her body was waning slower than Adria's, she would not be the first to go. She would not leave her here alone.
The only thing Luna feared more than watching her die, was leaving her to die alone. Abandoning her.
She would never abandon her.
Luna's eyes fell on the music box clutched weakly in Adria's hand, couldn't remember at what point she'd retrieved it from her bag - only that she had yet to let it go.
Luna swallowed, reaching for it. "Why don't we open this up and have a listen, hmm?"
"It's broken." Adria wouldn't look at her, her voice small. "I was holding it when Austin grabbed me back when. . . I dropped it." Her fingers tightened around the box. "I'm sorry. I didn't-"
"Shh, it's okay." Luna covered her hand, pressing her lips to her hair. "It's just a box."
She ignored the tearing in her heart, the dismay that twisted it, focused instead on Adria's warmth, the feeling of her in her arms.
It's just a box.
"No, it's not. It's your box."
"And it's not even worth a strand of hair on your head." Luna stroked that hair, cherishing the feel, even as damp and tangled as it was. Every strand was precious. Every strand was Adria. "It's okay. Do you want to know why it's okay?"
Adria nodded, still unable to meet her gaze.
"Because it wasn't your fault." No, that was no good. Adria wouldn't believe it. And if it had been her fault, Luna would still say the same. Would still believe the same. "And because. . . your song doesn't belong to this box. It belongs to us. And we'll always be able to hear it."
She hesitated. "I like it better when you sing it, anyway."
Luna smiled a little, though the gesture felt painful on her face, and squeezed Adria's shoulder. "Then would you like to hear it?"
A weak nod was her only response, accompanied by a sniff.
Tightening her grip, Luna breathed in the peppery smell of her hair, masking the aroma of sickness. Soon, she would have to rise and help attend to the rest of her people, but for now she would grant herself this small relief.
Adria curled into her, nose burying in the hollow of her neck as though seeking to disappear inside her. Luna rubbed her back, humming their song until she felt the tension fade out into sleep, Adria's mind granting her the peace her body would not.
When you wake again, this nightmare will be over.
It was more a prayer than a promise.
"We all got better," Luna gasped, though it came out as more of a whisper. Barely audible.
"What?" Raven's brow furrowed, reaching for the bowl of fresh ointment Emori had dropped off and gently applying it to Luna's skin. The rash had ventured up around her ears, encroaching on the territory of her cheek and she nearly retracted in shock at the burn of her flesh, the way it overwhelmed the heat of her own.
The shivering had stopped a short while ago, which should have brought relief, but now Luna seemed to have flipped in the other direction. Had weakly shoved off the blanket Raven had pulled up around her only half an hour before, panting.
She'd given in to the urge to call Abby, though it hadn't achieved much. According to the doctor, Luna's fever was indeed worse - but not dangerously so. She'd left the thermometer behind with orders to call her immediately if it got past 105, otherwise it was simply a case of 'waiting it out'.
Raven hated waiting.
Hated seeing Luna in pain even more.
"My clan." Luna winced, curling inwards, arms folded over her stomach. Raven wasn't sure when the cramps had started - hadn't been hit with them herself yet - only that the pain appeared to be getting worse. Had to be, if Luna wasn't managing to hide it anymore. . . Or maybe she just no longer has the energy to try. Somehow, that possibility was even less comforting. "We all got better. We were sick in the beginning but I thought it was just food poisoning. Or a virus. It happens when you live in such close quarters. . . I thought it would be okay." She grimaced, turning her face into the pillow, away from Raven's aid. "And it was. It was okay. The sickness only lasted a couple of days and then everyone got better. We all got better. For a week, everyone was okay."
Raven's mouth pressed together grimly. "It's the latent stage of acute radiation sickness. It last hours or weeks, depending on the dosage of radiation. The amount that you got from the fish wasn't too high," not nearly as high as what they would experience during Praimfaya, anyway, "so that's why you felt better for a while. On the surface. Beneath it, damage was still being done."
Their stem cells would have started to die, sewing the seeds for all that came next. Like a Trojan horse. Dark and insidious as it crept around the body, destroying every foundation it came into contact with.
By the time the damage reared its head, it was far too late to do anything about it.
Too late to save anyone.
Luna didn't seem to hear her. Raven wondered if she was even wholly aware of her presence, that she hadn't faded too far back into the past. "And then the fever came. And everything was worse. So much worse. I knew we had to get to the mainland then. But it was too late." She opened her eyes slowly. "I had a week to get them here and I wasted it."
"Luna, you didn't know. It wasn't your fault."
She fell quiet, eyes closing again, and Raven counted her words a success, dipping her fingers back into the ointment and applying the paste to Luna's feverish skin.
She wondered whether anyone had done this for her during the radiation sickness. Whether anyone had tended to her at all. Or whether she'd spent the whole time seeing to the needs of others. Knowing Luna, the answer was likely to be the latter. It was a cold thought.
Raven knew what it was like to be in pain. To be sick. How difficult it was to even look to your own needs let alone anyone else's.
Hell, she was struggling with it right now and she was nowhere near as sick as Luna had been.
Raven could remember the way she'd held Adria, comforting her, taking care of her. Easing her passage into death.
But Luna hadn't been alone then. Someone had been there to hold her as well, to comfort her.
Clenching her jaw, Raven soothed her fingers over sweltering flesh.
She couldn't hold her like Nyko, but she could do this.
Luna's eyes opened, though they gazed past Raven, unseeing. "I should have known."
Okay, so her words hadn't been a success. "Luna. . ."
"We have stories," Luna cleared her throat, "of the Dark Days. Of a sickness that killed in the most agonizing ways. How people would get better for a time, then worse." She stared at the wall. "I should have known."
"That a sickness that hadn't been around for almost a hundred years was back with seemingly no cause? Yeah, sure. Totally obvious. Can't believe you didn't join the dots."
Luna's expression didn't twitch. The guilt continued to swim in her eyes.
Raven doubted that she was choosing to let her see that guilt. To see any of this. That she was even entirely aware of the conversation they were having, the words tumbling from her lips in a ceaseless, grief-stricken cascade.
There was something unravelled about her. Disjointed.
Naked.
And Raven was reminded of the river, and the amount of time it had taken for Luna to regain control of herself. Given that she'd nearly drowned that was to be expected. Terror like that could break anyone's composure.
Still, it would be nice if one time Raven could see a crack in her composure that wasn't the result of panic or grief. Or sickness.
Would be nice to see Luna let go. Just be.
But not like this.
This felt like she was bearing witness to something she didn't have a right to. Something Luna may not even want her to. And would later regret.
Raven's mouth thinned as the guilt in Luna's eyes only continued to thicken, solidifying into something that scraped away at her defenses. It was so familiar. That guilt. And she wondered whether Luna ever glimpsed it when looking at her.
Okay, plan of attack number two.
"Look, even if you had got them here, it wouldn't have made a difference."
When in doubt, defer to science.
In the last couple of days, Raven had been reading up on everything she could find about radiation sickness - and its long-term effects. Mostly by combing through Becca's files. The woman had a lot of research available. None of it had been all that useful in providing her with a way to help Luna, though. Until now.
"There was nothing we could have done for them. Nothing anyone could have done for them."
Sure, there were things you could do to treat radiation sickness, if you had the means and the time. Antibiotics, cytokines, blood transfusions, fluid, electrolytes, antiemetics, antidiarrheals, IL-7, KGF, and FL therapy, and even stem cell transplants. All methods that had been used in the past to manage the symptoms and, in some cases, help bring about recovery.
Such supportive therapy probably wouldn't have amounted to much by the time Floukru reached them but, even if the clan had arrived earlier, Arkadia didn't have the necessary means to perform stem cell transplants or provide growth factors. Transfusions had been off the table because they hadn't possessed the tools to leukoreduce and irradiate any blood products - critical when your patients' immune systems were so severely suppressed and you wanted to avoid TA-GVHD.
(she'd overheard Jackson and Abby discussing the matter back at Arkadia, deliberating over whether to take the risk and at least give the dying people a chance.
In the end, it seemed they'd decided against it.
Probably because, by that point, no transfusion was going to do anything but delay the inevitable)
Basically, Luna's clan had been screwed.
Mouth thinning, Raven leaned forward, wiping some of the perspiration from Luna's brow.
She'd suggested ordering Murphy to get a facecloth and a bowl of water but Luna had vehemently rejected the idea. God knows why. At this point, she was sweating up a storm and a cool cloth against the burning skin of her face could only have brought relief.
If her fever kept climbing like this, Raven suspected it was only a matter of time before she changed her mind.
"The pills we gave Adria only work within twenty-four hours of exposure. There are other treatments - like stem cell transplants - that can be given after twenty-four hours, but none that we had on hand or could perform at Arkadia. . . they still would have died." Luna's brow furrowed and she could see the surprise there - and the doubt. "Okay? They still would have died. Waiting a week didn't change anything. You didn't make the wrong choice because no choice you made would have mattered."
Raven wished Abby had told Luna this. That someone had. That she hadn't spent weeks thinking that, if she'd only acted sooner, her clan would have been saved. That the responsibility for their deaths lay entirely on her shoulders.
It didn't. And it wouldn't have even if the pills were capable of working beyond the twenty-four hour mark.
She hadn't known what was happening. And no-one could fault her for that.
Luna sighed, closing her eyes. "If I'd gotten them on the boat when they first got sick, we could have gotten here in time."
Except, apparently, Luna herself.
But what did Raven expect?
Was there anything in the world anyone could say to convince her that what had happened to Finn wasn't her fault? How could she expect Luna to feel any less guilt over the death of her clan, as irrational as that guilt was?
Raven couldn't. And she hated that she couldn't.
That there was nothing she could say to erase the guilt from Luna's heart.
(still didn't mean she wouldn't try)
"Really? You could have made the distance from Floukru to Arkadia in twenty-four hours? On foot? How long did it take you to get here once you reached the shore?"
"A few days." Exactly. "But we could barely walk. Had to take too many breaks. . ." Luna's features contorted a moment. "See to the dying. The dead. We could have made it if we'd left before things got so bad. We could have made it. . ."
Nope.
Raven leaned closer, willing Luna to open her eyes and see the sincerity in her own. The conviction. "Luna, there was no way you could have known what was really happening. No way. How could you know? Not to mention you were sick. Really sick. It's a wonder you managed to get them here at all."
She'd said this before. It hadn't sunk in then.
Raven prayed it would now.
Luna shook her head a little too violently, then winced, hand going to her stomach.
Fuck this.
On that first walk together, Luna had said she would come to terms with this guilt in her own time but she didn't appear to be approaching that point anywhere fast. As a matter of fact, she seemed to be digging her heels into a nice solid mound of self-loathing.
Understandable (and entirely too relatable). But not something Raven was prepared to stand for.
She could tolerate her own guilt over what happened to Finn. But she sure as fuck wasn't going to tolerate Luna's.
"Look, I know we keep going on and on about how your blood can save everyone, but you know what? You're not that fucking important. You're just one person, Luna. One measly little human like the rest of us. And you can't save everyone."
There was a long silence in which Raven held her breath, fearing that she'd gone a little too far, put her foot in her mouth yet again.
Then a wry smile pulled at Luna's lips. "I think that might just be the kindest thing anyone's ever said to me."
Raven's eyebrow flew up. "I think the fever's made you a little loopy but okay."
A hand came up to touch the back of hers, trailing over her skin. Raven resisted the urge to pull away. Knew that Luna needed the contact right now. That she'd sought it out so brazenly - after all her earlier hesitancy - was the surest sign of that. "Maybe. But not about this."
The light brush of Luna's fingers felt like the sweetest of tortures, the tender look in her eyes holding Raven in place, unable to move, to blink. She wasn't sure anybody had ever looked at her like that. Like. . . well, she didn't know what that look was. What it meant. Only that it was hard to breathe through.
To think.
As the silence stretched on between them, Raven began to hope that she'd won. Or at least made some headway.
But then Luna sighed, hand falling away. "I shouldn't have trapped them out at sea."
This again? Now they were just going in circles. "You didn't trap them, Luna. You opened a door and they chose to step through it. You're not responsible for what happened to them any more than they are. You just have really shitty luck. Really shitty."
She snorted wetly and Raven's mouth twitched. Okay, that's a start.
She sat, waiting for Luna to respond.
For a sign that something she'd said had actually gotten through.
Made a difference.
As the silence continued, Luna fingered the shell on her chest, staring at the wall. "I miss them."
It was barely more than a whisper.
"I know." Raven reached out with her clean hand, running her fingers through sweat-soaked hair, throwing away all caution. She knew that what Luna needed right now was for someone to hold her. Wished she could make herself be that someone.
That the thought of wrapping her arms around Luna didn't scare her to death.
Mostly because she was afraid she'd never want to let go.
But for now, this would have to do.
For now, this was all Raven had to give.
(she knew it wasn't enough.
Nothing she had to give ever was)
Luna closed her eyes under the touch, falling silent. After a while, Raven began to wonder if maybe she'd fallen asleep. But when she moved to take her hand away, a low murmur stopped her, almost too quiet to hear.
"I wanted to die with them."
Raven swallowed, returned her hand to Luna's hair.
Yeah. She knew that too.
Couldn't blame Luna for the wish.
Would probably have wished the same in her shoes.
Words fumbled in her throat, all of them equally useless. In the end, she resorted to the most useless ones of all.
"I'm sorry."
(Raven didn't ask if it was something she still wished for now.
Didn't think she could bear the answer)
Fingers touched her thigh, almost too light to feel.
She glanced down in surprise.
Eyes bright with fever - and something else - gazed up at her. "For the record, you're not that 'fucking important' either. It's not up to you to save everyone."
She blinked. "Did you just swear?"
Luna's mouth twitched. "I've been spending too much time with you."
And Raven hated that she was right.
Hated even more that it didn't feel like too much time at all.
No. The exact opposite.
It didn't feel like enough.
'Further than I'd been before
Touched your hand but nothing more
No one's ever looked at me that way
No one's ever looked at me that way
No one's ever looked at me that way. . .'
- Matthew And The Atlas, Counting Paths
Psychiatrist: I've been working with the survivors of the ferry bombing earlier this year. Their trauma is similar to yours. More extreme, of course. Many of them experience a sense of responsibility for what happened.
Finch: Survivor's guilt. I'm familiar.
Psychiatrist: Well, then you're also familiar with what I'm about to say next — that you think your friend's death was your fault. Otherwise, you'd have to face a very painful truth.
Finch: Which is what?
Psychiatrist: That you are not God. You don't control who lives or dies. That powerlessness also means that your friend's death is not your fault. I assure you, Mr. Wren, in time, the guilt you feel will pass.
Finch: Let me ask you a question then. Does survivor's guilt pass when everything that has happened actually is, in fact, your fault?
— Person of Interest, "The Devil's Share"
A/N: the next four chapters, we'll be having Murphy join us. Because I feel like you guys could use some humor after all I've put you through
