A Moment's Rest

Dusk woke to a damp pillow beneath her cheek. Her body ached, tired from a night turmoil. She sat up, brushing the tangled hair from her face, and sighed. The guilt no longer felt as crushing, but that didn't make it any easier. Routine had always been her anchor in the Thermoa's mundanity, and now, she needed it more than ever.

First on her list was visiting Quill. She knew it'd likely become a daily occurrence with how he currently looked. The trek to his workshop felt heavier than usual, her boots echoing dully in the dim corridors. She entered as quietly as possible, observing his appearance: pale but peacefully asleep in his makeshift bed. Dusk smiled faintly, filled her with a quiet relief. 

Even though the dust continued to build atop his tools, counting the days his workbench went unused with each extra layer. She was glad to see he was still breathing, still here. She lingered only a moment before heading back out, she'd come back later.

For the moment Dusk was intent on finding Pearl. The panic from the day before had settled down, funnelled into a focused determination. Dusk’s began her search anew, this time making sure to breathe. She wandered to and from Pearl's home, methodically searching the surrounding area. There was no-one to be found, so she moved on.

Dusk wandered through each of the patient tents surrounding the reactor. This time, she scoured the area thoroughly. Her inquiries led her through the bustling, tired heart of Thermoa, where stressed scientists and coughing patients painted a picture of pure exhaustion. She hesitated as her gaze fell on a small tent nestled off to the side. Inside, Pearl sat amidst a few dozen sick children, her back turned to the entrance. Dusk stepped closer, watching in silence.

Pearl’s hands moved deftly, though with visible exhaustion, as she handed each child a small charm. No two were alike: one bore a tiny etched star, another a carved flower. Each charm seemed to carry a fragment of Pearl’s heart. The children, some bedridden, others sitting weakly on their shared mattresses, clutched their gifts tightly; the rest waiting patiently in line. Despite the illness clouding the tent, a faint glimmer of hope flickered in their eyes. Their energy palpable from a distance.

The chaotic mess from before began to make sense. Scraps of cloth, scattered paints, and fragments of clay revealed the furious creativity that must have consumed Pearl recently. Dusk realised she must have spent countless hours working on them.

Her breath hitched as she took in Pearl’s appearance. Her normally flowing hair, usually a shimmering cascade of silk, was matted and tangled. Deep bags under her eyes told of sleepless nights, and her already slender frame seemed impossibly frail. The sight was both heartbreaking and awe-inspiring. Pearl’s devotion was evident in every movement, in every effort she had made.

Dusk waited until the last child received their personalised gift. When Pearl finally turned to see her, there was a brief moment of confusion before recognition lit her weary eyes. Pearl managed a faint smile, but the action seemed to drain the last of her strength. Without warning, she collapsed forward, Dusk catching her just in time.

For a moment, Dusk froze. She had never been good with children. They were a foreign language she had never bothered to learn. In Thermoa, children spent most of their time under the care of scientists, who fed, educated, and supervised them. Parents were often distant figures, absorbed in their own struggles or rituals. As such, children formed their own chaotic, self-sufficient microcosms, flitting through the corridors in mischievous packs. Dusk had always avoided them, Pearl, not so much. Her kindness drawing them in like moths to a flame.

Dusk would occasionally find her surrounded by a small group of children, as she sung or told stories to entertain them. They would dance alongside her with joyous grins, and watch her carefully mold rubbish into art. Dusk couldn't imagine anything more difficult.

Now, she stood amidst twelve curious faces, each child’s gaze fixed on her as Pearl slumbered in her arms. She placed her gently on a nearby spare bed, taking a moment to figure out what the hell she was meant to do. The tent was cluttered with toys, gadgets, and small trinkets, the perfect sanctuary for the young. Surely Dusk couldn't stuff this up. She cleared her throat awkwardly. 

“Uh, hi,” she began, but the children’s attention had already shifted back to their play.

Dusk sighed. Realising she'd either need to watch over them herself, or come up with another solution. Dreading the former, she decided upon the latter.

She went to each child individually, crouching down to their level. She asked each on about Pearl. Each child responded with various levels of enthusiasm, but each one without exception said she was the best caretaker they'd ever had. 

Using this shared affection, Dusk managed to corral them into a plan. She explained, as simply as she could, that Pearl needed rest. She told them to take turns bringing her food and water, to make sure she slept, and—most importantly—to find a scientist to check on her. She made extra effort into getting them to avoid any 'grumpy' scientists, since they'd likely ignore them.

The children nodded gleefully, being sick was a secondary objective compared to their new goal. As she left, Dusk spotted them dragging a bewildered scientist toward the tent. She gave the kids a thumbs-up, and they grinned back at her.

With that sorted, she decided to head back to check on Quill. She carried a bundle of cloth, food, and water, deciding to spend some time tending to him herself. When she arrived, he was awake, propped up weakly on his mattress. He greeted her with a faint smile.

“Welcome back,” he rasped.

Dusk smirked. “Thanks.” She set the supplies down and sat beside him. “Why aren’t you down with the other patients by the way?”

Quill shrugged. “I didn’t fancy leaving my workshop. The scientists were kind enough to bring me this bed and enough supplies to last a while anyway. Was very kind of them considering how busy they are.”

“Sounds about right,” Dusk nodded, glancing around at the dusty room. She reached for a cloth and a basin of water, dampening it before gently wiping his forehead. “I'll can take care of you for the moment though.”

Quill chuckled weakly. “Didn’t think you had a nurturing bone in your body. You'd rather be bouncing off roofs I'm sure.”

“Don’t push it,” she shot back, glad that disease wasn't eating his sense of humour.

They sat in companionable silence for a while, the weight of the past days hanging between them. Finally, Quill broke the quiet. He had spend most of the past night thinking of how to ask the question. Though he felt it would still be important to at least ask.

“So,” he began, “only if you're willing, tell me about what happened in the Abyss.”

Dusk hesitated, her hands stilling. The memories surged forward—the vast emptiness, the now-grotesque machinery, the burning guilt. She forced a weak smile. “I’m just glad to be home.”

Quill studied her for a long moment before nodding. “Fair enough.”

He shifted slightly, wincing at the effort. “So any progress with that project I gave you?” A smile reformed on his face

“I've been a bit busy today... had to um, deal with some kids” Dusk explained, telling him about her earlier adventure in the day.

“Sounds like you had a great time.” Quill teased. "Well, do try to find time to work on that invention when you can."

Dusk pulled out the blueprint, her fingers tracing the meticulous lines. “Of course, I'll start looking for the materials tomorrow. Today will be spent taking care of your stubbornness though”

Quill chuckled. “Ah yeah. Many thanks for that.”

She stayed by his side until he drifted back to sleep, the quiet hum of the reactor a comforting backdrop. As Dusk walked back to her quarters, the weight of the day settled over her. She didn't want to deal with children again for some time. She had barely spent an hour with them, and they'd practically destroyed her energy reserves.

Finally, once in the solitude of her room, she collapsed onto her bed. The tears came again this night, unbidden and unstoppable. They didn't feel as bad anymore.