"Mariela? Mariela!"

Mariela jumped, blinking bleary eyes to look up at a very concerned Gauche sitting across the small table from her. They'd been in the library for the last few hours, and she was having trouble using more than one sense at a time—right now, all her faculties were focused on her sight. Owen had given her the day off to catch up on her sleep, and she'd done with it what she'd done with every other second she wasn't working since getting back from the church two days ago: hunting for answers. She hadn't been able to lay down long enough to sleep, and even through the mental haze, she could tell this was quickly becoming unsustainable.

Unsustainable… the word was starting to haunt her, and the lack of sleep was not helping. Her condition was unsustainable. Marlin's condition was unsustainable. Her mental health was quickly becoming unsustainable, and now she officially knew that part of it was the illness eating at her magical channels, so she couldn't fully trust any of the emotions she felt. Mariela was starting to feel like she couldn't sustain anything, and every time she tried to lay down to get any sort of sleep, all she could think of were the bandages covering every inch of her brother below the neck. Ever since leaving him with Sister Theresa, Mariela had been able to get out to see her brother so few times, and it hurt to think about it—especially now that she knew he'd only been getting worse the entire time she'd been gone. Even being able to leave enough money to assure he would never have to go without seeing a healer, it had always felt more like abandonment than anything else, and she'd only been feeling more and more guilty about it.

Which was why, when Owen had given her that grim look that she was learning meant bad news, she hadn't really been surprised. The last time she'd been selfish, Marlin had been the one to pay for it; why would this time be any different?

"Mariela!"

This time, Gauche had grabbed her shoulder, and Mariela almost jumped out of her seat when she realized it. She looked up at him apologetically, getting more and more uncomfortable under his very intense, very concerned gaze. "I'm really sorry, Gauche, I've been terrible company today."

"That's not important, and it's not even true." Gauche studied her for another moment before letting her go and sitting back down in his seat. "You're not doing okay. When was the last time you ate? Or slept, for that matter?"

Mariela laughed uncomfortably and pushed her chair back. "I had breakfast, I think—"

"You couldn't have had breakfast," Gauche cut her off. "We met here right after you finished your night shift with Owen."

"Oh." She laughed again uncomfortably before sighing and laying her head on the edge of the table in front of her. "I'm sorry. I'm just starting to lose track of time, I think."

"It's because you're not getting enough sleep. Why don't we take a break and get some food?"

Mariela jolted up in her seat and shook her head immediately. "No, no, I'm fine, I need to finish this book."

Gauche reached over and pulled the book away from her… and it took her long enough to respond that he had already put it away by the time she was reaching for it. "You need a break. Let's go get some food. Or at least some fresh air."

Reluctantly, Mariela stood and gathered all her notes to put into her satchel. She followed Gauche outside in a half daze and almost tripped over her own feet walking through the library's front door. Turning bright red, she laughed awkwardly and looked everywhere but at Gauche. "Today really just isn't my day, huh?"

"What's wrong?"

Mariela blinked up at him in surprise. "What do you mean?"

With a sigh, Gauche took her wrist and led her to a bench up the road. Once he'd sat her down, he asked again, "What's wrong? Something's obviously wrong. You're not sleeping or eating. What's going on?"

Mariela grabbed at her necklace and fiddled with it nervously. They had spent every day together since she'd gotten back from the church; Gauche had said he didn't have any missions coming up so he could meet her every day, and Mariela had been more than happy for both the help and company. Despite all the time they'd been spending together, however, she still hadn't figured out how to tell him about the fact that she was sick. It was easy to convince herself that it wasn't really relevant to what they were doing—if they could figure out a way to wake Marlin, the fears about his losing the ability to intake nutrients magically suddenly went away. But it still didn't feel right to keep what she'd found out from someone who was spending all his spare time helping her And yet, no matter how guilty she felt, she hadn't been able to get it together enough to even try to bring it up. Her eyes fixed firmly on the ground at her feet, she mumbled, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Mariela." Gauche waited until she reluctantly brought her eyes up to meet his before continuing, "You understand that you can't walk and talk at the same time right now, right?"

She grimaced, her face starting to heat again. "Is that why you brought me to a bench?"

"No, I brought you here because you need to rest," Gauche said, an edge of defensiveness to his tone. When she stared at him accusingly, he relented, "And yeah, also because I didn't think you could have a full conversation while walking."

Mariela scowled at him but deflated almost immediately. "You were probably right about that. And sitting is nice."

Gauche grinned at her. "Are you hungry? We can go back to that pub we went to with Gordon a couple weeks ago."

Mariela shook her head quickly, stopping almost immediately as it made her dizzy. "No, it's okay. I'm not sure… I don't really want to be around a lot of people right now."

Gauche hesitated a moment before saying hesitantly, "Do you want to go back to your place?"

Mariela stiffened immediately, sharpening even through the tired haze she was in. It felt like a million years ago that he'd run out on her the morning after waking up in her bed, but when she thought about it, it still didn't feel long enough to smother her humiliation completely. And while they'd been getting even closer after spending all this time together in the library, she also didn't think that she could handle another incident like that—even if her emotional state wasn't currently in question. Like he could read her mind, Gauche immediately added, "I don't have to stay if you don't want me to. You just look very, very tired, and there's no way that you can actually be taking in anything you're reading, anymore."

Mariela hesitated and stared at her hands. The truth was that she didn't want to be alone. It was part of why she'd been so insistent on meeting Gauche in the library whenever she wasn't working with Owen; every time she was alone, her thoughts started to spiral. Now she wasn't just thinking obsessively about waking Marlin up—now it was waking him up before the illness killed him, having to think about how the illness was affecting both of them after years of watching their mother deteriorate because of it, the shame of contracting the illness that had destroyed their family name, the endless guilt of having to spend any time at all researching her own illness because she didn't have a choice, anymore. It didn't matter that saving herself was critical to saving Marlin—especially since it had taken her no time at all to figure out that as long as they could work something out for him, they already knew it wasn't necessary for her to give him his nutrients. Owen was adamant, though: every moment she spent looking for answers with him was dedicated to figuring out a way to save her. They'd already tried the medication her mother used to take the second they'd gotten back to the capitol—it had made her sick immediately, and when Owen had analyzed her blood, nothing had changed. According to Owen, if anything, it appeared that her infection was actually fighting the properties of the medication.

"Don't lose hope," he'd said immediately as her face had dropped at the news. "We'll find a way to beat this, Mariela."

But she didn't have his optimism.

"Mariela?"

She jolted, startled out of her thoughts by Gauche. She had completely forgotten where she was. "I'm so sorry, I completely zoned out. I didn't mean to ignore you, but what were you saying?"

"I asked if you wanted to go back to your room. I obviously don't need to stay with you, but you need to get some rest, you're not doing well."

Mariela squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. When she let it out, she forced herself to meet Gauche's eye. "You're right. Would you… would you mind taking me?" Mariela hesitated before sighing and adding, "And would you mind maybe staying with me for a second once we get there?"

Gauche nodded immediately. "Of course, let's get going."

x

Gauche was sure he'd been in more awkward situations—he just couldn't think of any right now.

He and Mariela were back in her room and the second the door had closed behind them, both of them had immediately gone silent. They were sitting on her bed as far apart as possible, and Mariela had made it clear that she still wanted him to stay… but also that she was embarrassed to want that at all. The last time they'd been together in a room alone like this was impossible to ignore… and it was all his fault.

Am I ever going to figure out how to make that better?

"So," Gauche started, trying not to sound as awkward as he felt and not sure if he was successful, "Have you been to the church to see Marlin any time lately?"

Mariela almost jumped off of her bed. When she looked up at him, her eyes were huge. "What?"

Gauche blinked at her, not sure why she was so startled. "I asked if you'd been by the church to see Marlin any time lately. I know that you haven't had a lot of time off since you started working under Owen. Is that why you haven't been getting enough sleep? Because you're worried about him?"

Mariela was silent for a moment, her eyes still round and big as an owl's as she stared at him. To his complete and total horror, after a moment, they started to fill with tears. "I'm sorry," she said immediately, wiping her eyes quickly with the edges of her sleeves. "I'm so sorry."

"Stop apologizing." Gauche grabbed her wrists and waited until she'd calmed down a little before asking, "Are you going to be okay? I'm… well, I'm starting to worry a little."

"No," Mariela said immediately, fixing her eyes on her lap. "I'm fine. I'm…" she trailed off, and was quiet long enough that Gauche was about to shake her shoulder again and demand that she go see Owen or something when she finally took one deep, shuddering breath… and immediately started to sob.

"I—I'm sorry?" Gauche was at a total loss. He had no idea what he'd done to make her start crying—was just being alone with him enough to make her totally lose it now?

But Mariela shook her head vehemently, her face in her hands as her shoulders shook. He wasn't sure how he could help, but he was basically positive that touching her was a bad idea. So, he waited. And slowly, her shoulders started to still and her breathing started to calm. Then, out of nowhere, she started to laugh. It did not make Gauche feel any better. If anything, only served to confuse him more.

"I'm sorry," she wiped at her eyes once she'd calmed down to just a chuckle. She took another moment to wipe her face before finally looking up at him with a tired smile. "I guess I'm more tired than I thought I was, huh?"

"You think?" Gauche hesitated a second before glancing at the door. "If you'd feel better if I left—"

"I'd prefer not to be alone," she cut him off. "If you've got somewhere to be or if you'd rather not be around someone completely losing their mind like this, I completely understand. But know that I'm not asking you to leave."

His chest suddenly loosening as he let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, Gauche chanced a tentative smile. Mariela, eyes still red but face dry, returned it. After a second, however, it faded into a look of... discontent.

"I need to talk to you about something," she said slowly, eyes dropping back down to her hands. His stomach dropped at her tone. "It's, umm. It's about what we've been researching."

What? Gauche felt his chest tighten back up immediately. For the past few days, they'd been spending all their time together—and he'd continued the research he was doing about Mariela's issues, not Marlin's. She had been so wrapped up in her own research—and so tired, really—that he'd assumed she hadn't even noticed that everything he'd been looking at had been research involving blocked or deteriorated mana channels. Apparently, he'd been wrong.

"Mariela—"

"I'm dying," she cut him off in a rush, and Gauche snapped his mouth shut so tightly that he felt the painful click of his teeth. He just stared at her—he couldn't have heard her right.

"What?" he asked dumbly. Mariela had clamped a hand over her mouth, red-rimmed eyes huge. He reached out to grab her wrist but stopped himself before he could touch her, instead pulling his hand back and giving her an uncomfortable smile. "What did you just say?"

"I…" she moved her hand away from her mouth in jerky motions, like she was forcing herself to and wasn't happy about it. "I… I shouldn't have said that."

"But you did," Gauche said, an edge to his tone. "Mariela, what did you just say?"

Mariela stuttered for a moment before closing her eyes and clutching at the necklace at her throat to fiddle with the charm nervously. When she opened her eyes again, she said slowly, "Owen and I went to the church the other day. He looked at Marlin, and when he checked his blood, he found a sort of… infection. An infection that I have as well. Do you remember my telling you about how my mother was sick?"

Gauche felt his throat go dry. "Yeah. You said she was born with it, right?"

She gave him a bright smile that he couldn't help returning, even if he still felt like he was choking a little. "You do remember. Yes, my mother was born with it. So was everyone else in my family. It seems the mage fire… awakened a latent version of it in both Marlin and I, and that's what's been damaging my mana channels. It's been damaging Marlin's, too—Owen says that it's not progressing as fast as what I have, though, because I had a smaller but more direct interaction with the fire." She didn't seem to realize what she was doing as she raised her hand and grabbed her damaged shoulder lightly.

"So, what does that mean?" Gauche asked after a second. Forcing himself to ask, he almost bit out the words, "Didn't you say that the disease was…"

"Deadly," Mariela finished for him with a nod. "Yeah. Yeah, I did."

"So, what does that mean?" he asked again, panic building in his chest and turning into an emotion he knew much better: frustration. Searching her face, he asked, "And why didn't you tell me sooner?"

Mariela bit her lip, hand dropping from her shoulder to her necklace to clutch at her pendant again. "I… I'm sorry." Her voice was soft, just above a whisper. "I didn't know how to tell you. And I… I didn't want you to stop helping me look for a cure for Marlin."

Gauche balked, jaw dropping. "You've still been focusing on figuring out Marlin's situation? Even knowing what you know now?"

"I look for answers for my own problems whenever I'm with Owen and have a free second," Mariela protested. "I've been balancing my time perfectly."

"You haven't been sleeping or eating," Gauche snapped. She winced, and he took a breath to calm himself down. "Look, I know that this disease makes you emotionally volatile—"

"How do you know that?"

Gauche paused, his mouth still opened for a moment before he closed it and blinked at her stupidly. "What?" he finally asked.

"How did you know that the disease makes someone emotionally volatile?" Mariela's eyes, still huge, were searching his face, and it made him look away, uncomfortable.

"I…" he had no idea what to say, and no way to stall, either. So, he went with the vaguest truth he could possibly think of. "I looked into it after you told me about it."

Not technically a lie. He'd found some old medical records that had been made public about the disease while he was looking through different ways mana channels deteriorated. Case studies of family members from generations ago, probably. He hadn't thought that it was important when he'd read through them all, really—he was just curious about her family and recognized it from what he knew. And all of that had happened after she'd told him about it.

"Why?"

"I just did," he mumbled cagily, willing her silently to just drop it. "Look, you're really tired—"

"Why were you looking into a genetic disease specific to my family?" Mariela cut him off to demand. Gauche refused to look up, but he could hear the accusation in her tone. "Why would you need to do that? And does that mean that you know what family I'm from?"

The panic in her voice at that finally made Gauche look up at her in confusion. And looking at her only confirmed that she was very, very panicked about the idea of him knowing what family she was from. "I… yeah, I found out you were originally apart of the Vermillions. Why does that matter so much?"

"It just does," Mariela snapped, her face starting to get more and more red. "Why does any of it matter to you? What, were you afraid it was contagious or something? Is that why you had to go prying into my history without telling me?"

"No, of course not," Gauche insisted immediately, but grit his teeth as he realized he'd have to tell her the truth.

Seeing as I was right to be looking into her instead of Marlin, he tried to reason with himself, maybe she'll actually be thankful.

Unlikely, but a man could hope.

"Well?" Mariela demanded.

Gauche took a deep breath. "I found some medical reports that had become public record while I was looking into damaged mana channels."

Mariela blinked at him—clearly whatever she'd been expecting hadn't been that. "Why were you looking into damaged mana channels?" As if saying it out loud made the pieces click together for her, though, her eyes widened again and she fixed them on him accusingly. "You were researching into my curse?"

"Yeah, but that was clearly the right thing to do."

"It doesn't matter if it turned out to be the right thing to do or not," Mariela snapped. "I asked you to drop it, and you told me that you would help me look for a way to save Marlin. Why would you lie to me like that?"

"It wasn't lying," Gauche snapped back defensively. "The two of you both were cursed by the same mage fire, anything that would help you was bound to help him in the long run."

"As far as you knew, he didn't have damaged mana channels," she hissed. Gauche wasn't sure he'd ever seen Mariela so furious. Her face going blotchy with red and her eyes filling with frustrated tears, she pressed, "Why would you lie to me like that? It's been weeks! You've been lying to me for weeks!"

"I don't think it's lying." Gauche took a deep breath to keep himself from losing his temper reflexively and saying something he'd regret. It wasn't her fault that she'd caught him in the lie—he'd just really thought he could get away with this small mistruth. "And besides, I was right to keep looking into your damaged mana channels—I was even right to look into your family disease specifically. I can get the medical records—"

"I don't care if you ended up being right," Mariela cut him off, her fists clenched as she dashed at the tears in her eyes in frustration. "I don't even care that I'm probably overreacting because of this stupid disease. You lied to me. Why have you been lying to me?"

"I already told you," Gauche gritted out through clenched teeth, "I didn't think it was lying. I really think that you should get some rest. If you want, I can stay here—"

"I'm not getting any rest until you tell me why you thought it was okay to lie to me for the entire time we've been looking for an answer to Marlin's curse! It was your suggestion to research together. Have you really been looking into my issues this entire time?"

"Of course I have," Gauche snapped, and just like that, his temper snapped, too.

"Why?" Mariela demanded.

"Because I don't care about your little brother!" The second the words were out of his mouth, he wished that he could take them back. It was like someone had dumped ice water on his head—all his temper, all the fight he'd just felt, was suddenly gone. He just stared at Mariela, wide-eyed. And she stared back, eyes wide and mouth opened in shock. "Mariela—"

"I think you should go." Her voice was quiet, barely a whisper, and she'd dropped her eyes and refused to meet his. Her hands were clenched in fists so tightly that they trembled in her lap.

"Mariela—" he tried again.

"Gauche," she cut him off, tone sharp. "I think you should go."

Gauche opened his mouth, ready to keep pressing, then closed it. Standing without saying another word, he left her room with nothing but a quiet click as the door shut behind him.