Evie
Did you ever love her? Do you know?
She is not called to the infirmary often these days. Her talents are more often used in the tending of plants and dedication to retrieving samples from far reaches of Caido for the medics to use in their tinctures and balms. It doesn't mean she isn't still at the top of the list for emergency medical situations - not many, even in Halo, have healing magic as strong as hers.
His name is Yosef. She has had a sporadic hand in his treatment for the past six months, but the prognosis had never been particularly good. Magic can heal most anything, but it cannot postpone natural human ailments like age and death. It doesn't make her feel any less guilty as she sits at his bedside most of the night, wearing herself thin using her magic in waves to combat the pain he is feeling.
It doesn't stop.
The moment her magic fades back into her body, the hurt begins to make its way back into his old bones. Evie can do nothing but watch, helpless. Organ failure, she notes in a detached voice somewhere in the back of her mind. Life support options exhausted. Imminent failure of adjacent systems. Pain management and hospice care are all that's left. Except his failure has become acute, and while her magic can take away the pain, frankly he is simply not dying fast enough - her stamina cannot match what he needs.
"You can't keep this up Eve." His soft, wheezing voice pulls her out of her head as she stares helplessly at his hand held in both of hers, wondering why she has to fail so often. The nickname feels like hot irons in her stomach, and there is a desperate sort of manic energy to her as she lifts her head, eyes painfully dry because she can't let herself think this is the end yet. "Yes I can. I can - I can call for Hotaru, she can help me alternate -" the woman's magic is not as strong as her own, but it would be better than pitiful human medicine. Except he interrupts her with a shake of his head that's more like a flop to the side, eyes that are far too coherent and clear finding her own. "No. I just...I want it to be done."
She sits in the wake of his tired confession like a forgotten buoy out on the ocean. There are too many implications there, and she is terrified to know which he means. "It will be Yosef. I'll make sure it's painless, I promise, I just need to get Hotaru." The cajoling, begging tone shouldn't be so easy to hear. Evie should be a professional about this. But he had always asked for only her, no matter how many nurses and doctors offered their services in the infirmary instead. She can't fail him now, at the very end.
His hand makes the long, slow journey across the sheet to settle frail and bony over her own clasped as if in prayer around his own. "Eve. Please. No more. I don't want it prolonged. I want it done." And this time there is no mistaking his intentions, his last request that he is entrusting to her shaking hands. Something she has no business entertaining as a professional, as a healer. But here in their private room where no nurses dare enter without her call, they both know it is a taboo nobody else will be privy to.
The first tears well in her eyes as she leans over and presses her forehead to the back of his hand. Lets her magic flow stubbornly back into his body despite her exhaustion, causing him to sigh and relax back into the pillow as the relief takes over him all at once. In the silence that follows she hiccups quietly into his skin, and he turns his hand to caress her cheek. Evie has never gotten to say goodbye before; mother, father, brother, friends. If it hurts this badly, she regrets ever having wanted them.
One hand lifts to shakily touch the cuff on her ear, and her voice is thick with tears as she activates it with Deimos' name. "Deimos," her voice breaks as she says it the moment the connection is made, "I-I need you at the infirmary. As quickly as you can." He knows she had been called to Yosef's bedside given they'd been interrupted at dinner, but dawn has nearly arrived by now. From the bed, Yosef has the strength to look confused, and Evie pulls her hand away from the cuff to clasp his hand again. "I promised you," she manages through a shaking voice, "painless. I'll make sure of it."
His name is Yosef. She has had a sporadic hand in his treatment for the past six months, but the prognosis had never been particularly good. Magic can heal most anything, but it cannot postpone natural human ailments like age and death. It doesn't make her feel any less guilty as she sits at his bedside most of the night, wearing herself thin using her magic in waves to combat the pain he is feeling.
It doesn't stop.
The moment her magic fades back into her body, the hurt begins to make its way back into his old bones. Evie can do nothing but watch, helpless. Organ failure, she notes in a detached voice somewhere in the back of her mind. Life support options exhausted. Imminent failure of adjacent systems. Pain management and hospice care are all that's left. Except his failure has become acute, and while her magic can take away the pain, frankly he is simply not dying fast enough - her stamina cannot match what he needs.
"You can't keep this up Eve." His soft, wheezing voice pulls her out of her head as she stares helplessly at his hand held in both of hers, wondering why she has to fail so often. The nickname feels like hot irons in her stomach, and there is a desperate sort of manic energy to her as she lifts her head, eyes painfully dry because she can't let herself think this is the end yet. "Yes I can. I can - I can call for Hotaru, she can help me alternate -" the woman's magic is not as strong as her own, but it would be better than pitiful human medicine. Except he interrupts her with a shake of his head that's more like a flop to the side, eyes that are far too coherent and clear finding her own. "No. I just...I want it to be done."
She sits in the wake of his tired confession like a forgotten buoy out on the ocean. There are too many implications there, and she is terrified to know which he means. "It will be Yosef. I'll make sure it's painless, I promise, I just need to get Hotaru." The cajoling, begging tone shouldn't be so easy to hear. Evie should be a professional about this. But he had always asked for only her, no matter how many nurses and doctors offered their services in the infirmary instead. She can't fail him now, at the very end.
His hand makes the long, slow journey across the sheet to settle frail and bony over her own clasped as if in prayer around his own. "Eve. Please. No more. I don't want it prolonged. I want it done." And this time there is no mistaking his intentions, his last request that he is entrusting to her shaking hands. Something she has no business entertaining as a professional, as a healer. But here in their private room where no nurses dare enter without her call, they both know it is a taboo nobody else will be privy to.
The first tears well in her eyes as she leans over and presses her forehead to the back of his hand. Lets her magic flow stubbornly back into his body despite her exhaustion, causing him to sigh and relax back into the pillow as the relief takes over him all at once. In the silence that follows she hiccups quietly into his skin, and he turns his hand to caress her cheek. Evie has never gotten to say goodbye before; mother, father, brother, friends. If it hurts this badly, she regrets ever having wanted them.
One hand lifts to shakily touch the cuff on her ear, and her voice is thick with tears as she activates it with Deimos' name. "Deimos," her voice breaks as she says it the moment the connection is made, "I-I need you at the infirmary. As quickly as you can." He knows she had been called to Yosef's bedside given they'd been interrupted at dinner, but dawn has nearly arrived by now. From the bed, Yosef has the strength to look confused, and Evie pulls her hand away from the cuff to clasp his hand again. "I promised you," she manages through a shaking voice, "painless. I'll make sure of it."
Or did you just never want to be alone?
