'You are not required to set yourself on fire to keep other people warm.'

- unknown

"Raven?"

At Luna's voice, she looked up from her tablet, pausing in the middle of a sentence on photosynthesis. "Yeah?"

"I know gratitude makes you uncomfortable," Oh great, so she hadn't been hiding that at all, had she? "But I need to thank you again for yesterday. I was. . ." Luna took a breath, set it free. "I lost myself in the memories. Your help. . . it meant a lot."

What help?

She'd barely given any at all. The one thing Luna needed most, Raven had denied her. "Yeah, well, you did the same for me." Raven suppressed a shiver at the phantom impression of strong arms around her, soft breasts against her back. . . It hadn't been at all arousing at the time. These days, though, her brain was liable to go to town with the memory and exploit it for the sake of her increasingly frustrated libido. Raven cleared her throat. "At least you weren't trying to beat the shit out of anyone."

Except maybe yourself.

And unlike Raven, she'd actually held her when she'd needed it. Hadn't denied her that.

She clenched her hands, pushing down the sting of self-loathing. "How are you feeling now?"

Though Raven could certainly hazard a guess from their conversations today, which ranged from light-hearted to deeply morose. But it was a subtle offer for her to talk about it. If she wanted to.

Luna smiled weakly. "I'll be alright. The worst is over."

In more ways than one.

(though for the rest of them, the worst was still to come)

Raven hesitated before pushing her tablet away and rising from the bed. She took a seat beside Luna, who turned to her, lips rising further. "I meant what I said, you know? It wasn't your fault. None of it."

Her smile didn't falter but there was still nothing genuine about it. "I know. I think it's still going to take some time before I can believe it, though." She hesitated. "I was taught that the survival of my people - of everyone - depended on me from the moment I could understand what those words meant. Who I consider to be my people may have changed over the years but. . . that belief never did. It's a hard thing to shake."

And now the survival of everyone really does depend on you.

Great.

"Hey, remember what else I said? You're not that fucking important." Raven forced her mouth to lift in a smile. "I meant that too."

Except for the small little caveat that she was becoming increasingly important to Raven. Too important.

Luna's smile relaxed into something real. "And neither are you."

Raven rolled her eyes. "Just what every girl wants to hear."

Her eyes creased, mouth softening, melting into something fond. "When it comes to the universe, Raven, to what you can do in it, for it. . . you're not that important. But who you are, what you mean to people. . . you couldn't possibly be any moreso."

She swallowed, feeling the burn in her cheeks, the way her ribcage felt like it was suddenly threatening to burst open, unable to contain the organ within.

Why did Luna have to be so fucking. . . Luna?

"And in case no-one's ever told you, there is nothing written down in the laws of the universe that says it's your responsibility to save everyone."

Hypocritical, much?

Raven only barely found the self-control not to roll her eyes. Well, Luna had warned her. Definitely only human like the rest of them.

"Oh, really?"

"Mm." She smiled. "It's something I've been trying to learn since I was thirteen. You could try to learn it with me?"

Sounded like a tough lesson - and not one Raven was certain she wanted to take on.

"Luna. . ."

The curve of her lips didn't falter, understanding in her eyes. "Just think about it."

('I don't want you to kill yourself tying to make the impossible possible.')

Raven hesitated. "Okay."

Knew she wouldn't.

A hand touched hers briefly. "I need you to know that whatever happens, it's not your fault. If you can't fix this. If you can't find a way. Praimfaya isn't your doing. You've done what you can-"

"I can do more." Raven knew she could. Knew there was a way, if only she could find it.

It was just fuel.

She wasn't going to let humanity go extinct over a stupid fucking barrel of fuel.

Luna hesitated. "Maybe. Maybe not. But doing more doesn't mean that you'll actually achieve anything. You could work yourself to death, Raven, and never find a way to fix this."

"Gee. Thanks." She snorted. "That's really comforting."

Luna narrowed her eyes. "It's not meant to be comforting. It's the truth. Whatever happens, will happen. And none of it will be your fault." She paused. "I don't want this guilt for you."

"But you're alright with having it for yourself?" Raven challenged.

Luna's gaze didn't falter, or lose its even edge - though there was a touch of sadness to it now. "Whether I'm alright with it or not, I have it. And I'm trying. . . trying to let it go. But I can't. Which is why I don't want it for you. You don't deserve it."

But you do?

"Besides," Luna said, moving back, "it's different."

"Oh yeah, how?"

"When I decided to create Floukru, I made a promise. To myself. To the people who I took into my care. My clan. A promise to protect them. Keep them safe. I made their lives my responsibility. And I failed in that responsibility."

"Luna-"

"You're not a leader, Raven. You didn't choose any of this. You just happen to have the skills to help so you do. Because you can. Because you care. But none of this is your responsibility. You don't owe anyone anything." She took a breath, leaning back against her pillows. "And neither do I. Not anymore. We help because we can. But it's not on us if that help isn't enough."

Unbidden, a tangled mixture of anger and frustration balled up inside her. Released.

"So you're really not going to feel guilty if all of this fails and everyone dies?"

"If that happens, I'll be devastated." Luna's eyes darkened. "More than I can put into words." Raven looked down, regret filling her for the remark. The way she'd taken her own feelings of inadequacy out on Luna. "But guilty? No. Like I said, I don't owe anyone anything. Not anymore. These aren't my people, Raven. And they're not my responsibility. Not mine to keep alive." She swallowed. "That's not a responsibility I'll ever take on again. I wouldn't survive it."

And Raven's anger departed like it had never even come.

God, you really are an asshole.

She hesitated. "I get that. I do. But that's not how I feel about things. The fact that I have the ability help, to save everyone - that makes them my responsibility. And it makes failing them my responsibility too."

Luna sighed, eyes weighted with a barely visible heaviness. She looked tired. "The world is so big, Raven. Too big for anyone to carry. You're not Atlas - and even he was crushed, with no strength left to stand. . . Don't put the world on your shoulders when you don't have to."

Luna's gaze bore into her. There was a command in her eyes - but also the element of a plea.

Raven wanted to fold to it, she did. To give Luna what she wanted.

The thing was: she didn't have a choice.

Or if she did, she'd already made it a long time ago.

That world was already there. And Raven refused to shrug it off. "Luna. . ."

A knock on the door interrupted her words - though she had no idea what she'd been about to say. If there even was anything to say. Certainly nothing that would make either one of them feel any better. There was nothing to say.

The door opened. "It's just me."

Abby was back.

The doctor tended to have the worst timing imaginable - but in this instance Raven was grateful for it.

Taking a breath, she moved away from Luna, from the tension between them. Pretended she couldn't see the concern in her eyes.

The sadness.

"So. . . when are we getting the hell out of this room?"