Dirges In The Dark by SecondGuess

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Devon had walked past the Transrover twice in her hunt for True before she noticed the small work boots peeking from between the front set of wheels. She’d been looking everywhere, even calling the little girl’s name, but apparently the pint-size mechanic didn’t want to be found. It wasn’t lost on Devon that she was burrowed in nearly the exact same spot where he father had been injured, and she was willing to bet all the Morganite on G889 that True was aware of this fact as well. She walked carefully around the front of the vehicle, sure to make enough noise scuffing her shoes in the dust so that she didn’t accidentally startle the girl, and took in the wistful tableau before her.

True was leaning up against the mammoth black wheel, her head barely reaching the apex of it’s circumference, with a pile of circuitry in her lap. Her father’s tools were spread haphazardly around her on the ground but her tiny hands were still, her gaze fixed somewhere in the distance. Maybe she hadn’t been hiding after all, Devon realized with the concerned sixth sense that belongs singularly to parents. Maybe she hadn’t heard Devon calling her name at all.

Kneeling carefully in the dirt her in the dirt, True finally realized with a slight jump that she was no longer alone. Her crestfallen expression fell, and she instantly lowered her eyes back to her work.

“How’s it coming, True-Girl? I‘ve been looking all over for you.” Devon asked softly, fighting the urge to brush the girl’s tangled hair out of her eyes. Her attempt at tenderness was instantly met with resistance, and True’s eyes flew up to hers with lightening-quick resentment.

“You don’t get to call me that.” She informed Devon gravely. “Only my Dad can call me that.”

Instantly contrite, Devon nodded seriously. “Okay, I’m sorry. Won’t happen again.” Turning back to her work, True sat quietly, her entire body humming with suspicious anticipation of whatever horrible news Devon had inevitably come to give her. Devon gathered her nerve, desperate to allay the little girls fears.

“You’re Dad’s doing much better today. Julia thinks he might wake up pretty soon.” She relayed, keeping her tone light. Predictably, the younger Danziger was not impressed with her show of optimism. She continued to buzz away silently at the hot-blue metal in her lap in silence. “What do you say we go see him? Might be good for him to hear your voice.”

True snorted at this suggestion, finishing her welding before tossing the tool onto the ground with a ferocity that betrayed her attempt at indifference.

“It’s not like he can hear me.” She decreed matter-of-factly. “My mother wasn’t dead yet either, but she couldn’t hear my Dad.”

It still caught Devon off guard, to hear any mention of Elle Moor, but it was usually John’s slip of the tongue that brought the Danzigers’ past into sharp relief. In fact, Devon hadn’t heard True mention her mother since winter camp, when she’d mistaken Dell Curry’s transmissions for nighttime visits from her mother. Since then, True hadn’t given any indication that she’d learned more about her mother’s accident. To hear her speak of both her parents in the same vein was deeply unsettling.

Scooting a bit closer, Devon carefully wrapped an arm around the little girl, daring her to protest. She didn’t, but she didn’t stop her tinkering either.

“Your father gave us all a pretty big scare, didn’t he?” Devon asked softly, carefully gauging the child’s response. “Everyone’s been pretty upset. I know I’ve been downright terrified. I care for your Dad a great deal, and it’s impossible for me to even imagine moving on to New Pacifica without him.” From beneath her brunette halo, True issued a single sniffle.

“Accidents happen.” She informed Devon stoically. “You have to just take care of yourself and keep on doing your job.” For a split second, it was almost as though Devon’s mind had superimposed John’s deep, rumbling monotone over True‘s, so eerily identical were father and daughter.

Devon’s mind reeled at the perpetual sorrows, the desperate circumstances that had carved such deep trenches of indifference and harsh acceptance in the Danziger’s lives. She tried to imagine moving from place to place, not having any belongings, any true home, knowing bone-deep that there was no such thing as real friends and family. She couldn’t imagine a childhood filled with labor and uncertainty, a world built upon nothing but self-preservation. At eleven years old, True Danziger has frighteningly few certainties. She had only her father and the skills he had taught her.

“You’re Dad’s not going anywhere, True.” She spoke in a hushed manner, the threat of a sob squeezing the back of her throat. “He loves you too much to leave you behind, and that’s always been the truth.” The girl’s nervous hands finally slowed to a stop, her rail-thin shouldered quivering against Devon’s side.

“I don’t know how to do anything without his help.” True confessed, her own voice thick with tears. “I don’t even know how to breathe without him.” She whispered, worlds of maturity trapped inside lopsided pigtails and knobby knees.

“Now that I don’t believe for a second.” Devon teased, gently rubbing her slender arm. “You’re one of the best members of this crew! Just look at how much Walman needed your help, you can fix just about anything on this planet, I’d bet.” She grinned, absently realizing that such praise was not only well-deserved, but accurate. True was just as vital to the survival of Eden Advance as her father was.

True finally met her gaze, her wide brown eyes brimming with despair, the cheer Devon had hoped to restore nowhere in sight.

“I can’t fix him.” She whispered, the tears springing free.

Devon pulled the little girl into an embrace with all her strength, smoothing her soft hair and coarse shirt with her hands.

“Shhhh, sweetheart.” She whispered against the crown of her head. “He’s gonna be fine, you’ll see.”

“B-but…his legs are…” True hiccupped, drawing spastic breaths into her lungs, a week’s worth of shock and trauma flooding forth.

“Julia will do everything possible to fix him up, okay? If anyone can get do it, she can, right?” She asked rhetorically, “And we just have to keep positive and make sure he knows that everyone’s here to help him get well. He’s not alone anymore, he’s got a whole family of people who love him now, and we’re not going anywhere.“ Leaning away to tug at True’s chin with her hand, she coaxed her watery gaze upward. “And you aren‘t alone either, True, understand? I would never let anything happen to you. I promise you that, and I promised your father that, too.” Her soft whisper spoke volumes, and Devon’s shoulders sagged with relief when True snuggled back against her gently.

“He looks awful.” The little girl sighed, and Devon nodded, suddenly realizing she knew just the thing to ease the little girl’s pain. She needed a job.

“You should see him today, he looks much better than he did on your last visit. His color is coming back now, and Bess and I got him cleaned up a little bit this morning. There is one pressing problem, though. And your Dad was hoping for your help.”

Sitting up quickly, swiping a hand across her bloodshot eyes, True looked at her with a mix of uncertainty and expectation.

“What?” She asked, full of trepidation.

Devon reached into her pocket to retrieve Danziger’s old fashioned razor, wrapped safely in it’s grease-stained pouch. Wordlessly, with an air of ceremony, she placed it carefully in True’s hands.

Turning the gift over in her hands, fingers tracing the streaks as though they could remember how each one got there, True couldn’t quite hold back a smile. Standing quickly, nearly stepping on the instrument she had been working on, she left her Dad’s tools sprawled in disarray under the vehicle. Squinting as she emerged into the sunlight, she turned back to Devon almost as an afterthought, her mission now clear.

“He wouldn’t last a day without me.” She sighed with half-serious exasperation, her emotional armor slowly sliding back into place. Turning without another word, she made a bee-line for the Med Tent.

In the shade of the Transrover, watching the dusty seat of True’s pants as it stormed away, Devon wiped her own eyes.

“No, True, he wouldn’t.” She whispered.

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