Dirges In The Dark by SecondGuess

[Reviews - 0]
Table of Contents [Report This]
Printer

- Text Size +

To his credit, Morgan instantly realized his error. Of course, the foreboding lyrics had given him just as much of a start as Devon, but he regretted not having caught himself before the shock was spilled across his face. Just as he wrapped his numb tongue around what to say next, he was lost for words again. Devon Adair began to sob.

He watched for a minute, paralyzed and at a loss, surpressing the urge to run screaming for Bess. He never knew what to do when a woman, especially a strong woman like Devon or Bess, was reduced to tears. Hell, he didn’t even know how to console the wordly-wise True Danziger with the sounds of her father’s suffering echoing not-so-far off in the distance.

Taking a deep breath, he wrapped his arm carefully around Devon’s shoulders, waiting for her inevitable shrug off. When it never came, he sighed, Danziger’s quiet singing providing an unnerving soundscape in the deep silence of the desert.

“Oh, Devon…Devon, it’s just a song! Listen to him in there, he’s loopier than the roller coaster at Orbit Park!” He chuckled at his own joke like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard, but Devon was having none of it. Instead she sniffed, trying to get herself under control, still uncharacteristically leaning on the hapless bureaucrat for support.

“I’m sorry, Morgan…I didn’t mean to…I’m sorry.” She wiped her nose unceremoniously on her sleeve, furious that she’d lost her precious self-control. Now was not the time to be thinking the worst, in front of Mrogan of all people! She needed to be strong and clear and optimistic in Danziger’s stead. It was what he deserved, but more importantly, it was what he would have expected of her.

“Don’t apologize. Like Bess always says ‘Nail your colors to the mast.’” Devon nodded slowly, clearly unsure of whether or not she should dare ask for an explanation. “And while I’m not exactly sure what that means, I am quite certain that it applies to this situation. Also, I think it involves pirates, and all that hair can’t be a coincidence, can it?” He asked with mock seriousness, all the while slowly steering Devon back in the direction of the Med Tent.

Devon had to chuckle. While this wouldn’t be the first time that something Morgan had said coaxed a laugh, it was a different experience when that was its intended effect. She had to admit, for all his short comings, he did have a certain charm.

“Danziger’s not gonna let one of his vehicles get the best of him! He’s gonna be outta that bed and threatening me again in no time, you’ll see.” He assured her, and she nodded again, this time with greater conviction.

“You’re right. You’re right, Morgan. I have to just stop thinking the worst and go in there and just…be there for him. We’ve all got to just think encouragingly and help him fight this…he’ll be, I mean…he’s stronger than this.” She met his gaze, tears still shimmering in her eyes, but Morgan could see the firey certainty beneath them. He grinned, pushing back the nagging thoughts of what would become of Devon Adair if Danziger didn’t make it.

“Well, I should get back in there, before John starts singing show tunes.” She concluded softly, squeezing his arm. “Thank you, again, for distracting the kids. Tell Bess how much I appreciate it.” She swallowed thickly. “I know how much it means to John.”

“I will. And if you need anything, you know where I am.” He reminded her, his hands finding their way back to his pockets. With a last sad smile Devon turned back to the Med Tent, bracing herself for the ghastly scene that awaited her.

“Oh, and Devon! Be positive!” Morgan called lightly after her.

“I’ll try, Morgan.” She assured him, looking over her shoulder.

“No! I mean, Yes! Be positive, but I was talking about my blood type- B positive…just let me know if you need any.”

With an indulgent smirk, she waved the man off, watching his silhouette bleed into the darkness until it had been completely consumed.

Devon ran a weary hand over her face. The skin felt tight an drawn, as though for the past hours Danziger’s body, bled of its own, had been drawing upon her lifeforce for sustenance. Until this evening, when everything had come crashing down around her, she hadn’t allowed her self to think for even a split second that John could die. Even in the most gruesome moments, even with John’s crimson hands clutching her sleeve, begging her to tell True how much he loved her, she’d done nothing but assure him he would be fine, and could tell her himself. Up until now she’d even believed it.

Now that the damn had broken, that she was exhausted and had been given too much time to think about things, she simply couldn’t find her way back to the state of mind that had served her so well previously. She wondered why coping with John’s accident was any different than the years she spent struggling with Ulysses’ illness. She’d gone to the ends of the earth to save her son, flatly refusing to accept the prognosis of the best Station doctors money could buy. She’d never given a second thought to life without her son because, in her heart, she knew she would never let his death come to pass.

John Danziger was another story all-together. No matter how much she wished she could feel the same way, there was a crucial difference between Uly and the man who she’d come to care so much for. John had, often rightfully so, taken everything she’d ever said to him--all her demands and advice and critisizm-- with a grain of salt. He was used to caring for only himself and his own, to making his own decisions for what would be best for the group. Despite the fact that she undoubtedly trusted him with her life and even Uly’s, she wasn’t entirely sure that in this case he could be trusted with his own. But there was nothing to be done.

Forced to sit back and blindly wait when medicine had done all it could and only faith and hope remained, Devon steeled herself and brushed back the entry to the Med Tent, resigned to put her trust in the God she wasn’t sure existed and the man who she was most terrified of losing.

The tent was eerily silent now that John’s morbid song had died away, and despite the dimness it took Devon’s eye’s a moment to adjust to the muted palate so contrary to the gloom outside.

Her counterfeit smile faltered for only a split second at the sight of him, clammy skinned and raccoon-eyed above the blankets pulled high around him but tucked under his right arm to allow Julia access to the Dermiports she'd installed in the crook of his elbow, which she was currently fussing with. His eyes were shut, his tense brow relaxed for the moment, but it was the complex expression of relief and unguarded sorrow on Julia’s face that told Devon, more than anything, that he was asleep for the moment.

“Hey.” Julia murmured from her stool, Danziger’s outstretched right arm resting in her lap while she disinfected the area surrounding the IV, securing it with fresh pieces of gauze and surgical tape.

“He’s been pretty in an out…the drugs appear to be working, finally, once I upped the dosage. It was back for a minute there just now. It startled him, and he pulled everything loose.” Julia’s voice had taken on a unfamiliar tone in the past few days, and it still jarred Devon every time she heard it. The doctor did her best to hide it when Danziger was conscious, or when she spoke to Alonzo over gear, who was out scouting for more water and supplies with Baines, but in the quiet of the Med Tent at times like these, the tinge of defeat couldn’t be hidden.

Devon was used to Julia’s unyielding professionalism, the clinical detachment that she’d resented so much in their early days on G889, when Uly had remained sick despite their arrival. Now, in a strange way, watching her care for Danziger as though the weight of the world was on her shoulders, Devon wished for it back.

“There we go.” Julia sighed, gently easing Danziger’s limp arm back to the cot, arranging the tubes that would deliver the pain medication and newly synthesized plasma at a slow, constant drip.

It had been years since Devon had seen anyone with a “line” as Julia referred to it, and just the sight of Danziger being strung up with so many needles had left her deeply frustrated at first. It had reminded her how primitive Eden Advance’s medical practices actually were. But the doctor assured her that due to the circumstances and the constant need for intravenous medication and an alternate blood supply, it made the most sense, and it was just as safe as her Hypogun.

“You should get some sleep yourself, now that he’s resting.” Devon offered gently, knowing better than to be to forceful with the frazzled woman. Julia stood wordlessly, offering her place to Devon, who crept closer to the injured man despite her hesitancy to take in his condition.

“I’d like to wait until he’s under deeper, check his bandages and do a few more scans, but if you don’t mind I think I’ll go wash up, get some air.” She carefully removed her DiaGlove, setting it gently on the counter next to her other equipment.

“Of course, take your time, I’ll keep him company for now.” Devon spoke softly, still avoiding the sight of Danziger, suddenly craving privacy. “We could hear him singing outside, it sounds like the medication is doing the trick.”

A wan smile crossed Julia’s face, damning evidence that she’d been as affected by John’s song as Devon herself had been. Both women knew that neither would even mention it.

“Devon, I…” Julia came to stand next to the leader, pitching her voice in a true whisper. “I don’t know what else I can do for him, his fever’s raging and he’s just so weak. Even his reactions to the pain have changed, he hardly cries out, he just…doesn’t have the strength left in him. The next twenty-four hours will be crucial, if we can avoid the onset of infection and alleviate the state of crisis to his immune system there’s a chance he can survive, but…” Her throat caught, one hand flying up to violently brush away the tears before they could fall. It pained Devon to watch her struggle with the inevitable.

“Julia, you should get away for a few hours. He’s sleeping now, right? He’s comfortable…we can only approach this one step at a time, and at the moment, he’s okay.” Devon consoled her softly, grateful for the doctor’s temporary show of weakness, as it served to strengthen her own confidence. Like Danziger himself, Devon was always at her best when she focused on someone else’s problems.

Julia wordlessly nodded, turning back to get a final glimpse of John’s sleeping form. “Okay. Okay, I’ll be back in thirty minutes, I don’t want to go too long without monitoring his temperature. If it doesn’t get any higher, I’ll lie down for a bit.” Devon rubbed a hand over the distraught woman’s shoulder.

“I promise I’ll come get you immediately if anything changes, okay?” She proposed, and with a silent nod, Julia turned to leave. At the entrance, however, she paused, clearly struggling with whatever she was about to say.

“I think…if there’s no change in his condition by morning, I think we’d better let True spend some time with her father.” The soft illumination of the Luma Light caught the glimmer of a single tear tracing a path over Julia’s high cheekbone. “I know he wants to spare her his suffering but he’s desperate for her, and it wouldn’t be wise to keep her away much longer.”

The icy breeze that had washed over Devon at the sight of Danziger atop the Transrover blasted her again, and she stood stock still for a moment, bracing herself against it.

“We’ll see how he is in the morning.” She finally replied, her rigid tone sounding much too harsh, even to her own ears. Julia didn’t flinch, but instead met Devon’s eyes with her own conviction, silently wishing her parents had never wanted their child to become a doctor. Wordlessly, she made her way into the darkness.

You must login (register) to review.