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The Church of Favonius convent was deathly quiet so late at night, cold hallways lit only by the occasional dimly flickering lantern. Devout sisters were sound asleep, preparing to rise not long after dawn for Mass. But Rosaria was not devout, reminded of this by the searing agony just below her ribs. Her shaking, labored breaths shattered the peaceful silence, overpowering even the clack of high heels against stone.
As her heartbeat thrummed in her ears, mingling with the other sounds in a sort of sickening melody, she forced herself to keep walking, one hand clamped against her side and the other trailing along the wall for balance. She’d nearly gone to her old room by mistake, distracted with the overwhelming desire to collapse in bed, but now she was approaching her true destination.
She turned the doorknob as delicately as she could, taking small, quiet steps. She was well-versed in stealth, and Barbara (pure, aggravating Barbara) seemed to be a rather heavy sleeper anyway. Avoiding detection didn’t seem impossible until it did. Just as Rosaria was lowering herself onto the welcoming surface of her mattress, she saw wide eyes peering at her in the darkness.
“Sister Rosaria? Are you just getting home? It’s awfully late...you need to make sure you’re getting enough sleep.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know how to look after myself. You’re up too, you know. Maybe you should worry less about me and more about yourself.”
Barbara shook her head. Blonde curls bounced with the motion, visible in the strip of moonlight coming through the window. Her eyes were so wide and concerned, pretty pink lips slightly parted as she fiddled with the edge of her blanket.
“Thanks for your concern, but I just woke up a few minutes before you came in. I had a strange dream, but I was going to try to get back to sleep until...well...” She made a vague, fluttery gesture with one hand, as if to encompass Rosaria’s entire existence (or maybe she was just projecting).
“Right, well, don’t let me keep you then. I hardly think I need someone to tuck me in,” she drawled, lounging back on the bed. “I’ll try not to wake you if I go back out for a smoke.” Come on, she willed silently, desperate to be free of Barbara’s attention. She couldn’t decide what she wanted to do more, wrap up her wound or merely slip into unconsciousness. Either way, she’d rather do so in whatever passed for privacy in the church. Someone so cheerfully idealistic didn’t need to be exposed to the harsh reality of Rosaria’s life.
Just as she thought she might get her wish, Barbara spoke up again, sitting up more fully in bed and swinging her legs over the edge. “Are you hurt? Why are you holding your side like that?”
Reflexively, Rosaria looked down. The room wasn’t lit well enough to show the wetness of blood against her clothes, but sure enough, she still had a hand pressed tightly to the wound, a subconscious attempt to protect it. She had tried to freeze it with cryo on the way home, hoping to numb the pain, but it did nothing for the blood loss and tissue damage.
“It’s not a big deal. Better if you mind your own business.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Barbara chided. She was already sliding out of bed, reaching for her catalyst. “I’m a healer, and I was already awake. Why wouldn’t you tell me you were injured?”
Rosaria kept her jaw clamped shut, only begrudgingly moving her bloodied hand away. Barbara leaned in close, all floral perfume and soft fabric. She was too close, too earnest. Even in the time since they were forced to start sharing a room, they seldom spent time together unless Barbara was trying to coerce her into participating in more church activities. Rosaria told herself she preferred it that way.
“It’s a little difficult without being able to see the wound, but I’ll do my best, so just try to relax. Um, it may hurt a little, but it should feel a lot better right after!”
“Whatever it is, I can take it,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. Sure enough, the hydro energy stung as it permeated the wound, forcing her to grit her teeth. It was far less severe than getting stabbed though, so she was soon able to release some of the tension from her muscles, focusing instead on watching Barbara work. She hummed a quiet tune, her catalyst floating in the air between them.
“I think that’s about all I can do for now,” Barbara said eventually. “How do you feel?”
Rosaria made a vague noise of assent, forcing her heavy eyelids open. When did she close her eyes? She couldn’t recall, entranced as she was by that simple melody. “I’m fine. Thanks, I suppose.”
Barbara smiled, gently whisking her catalyst away. Instead of returning to her own bed, however, she gently pulled the covers over Rosaria’s frozen form, tucking her in.
“I can sing if you’d like. Lots of patients enjoy it when they’re not feeling well.” With that, she slid under the covers beside her, body warm against her own. Rosaria was too tired to argue, a smile pulling faintly at her lips.