Wex careful tucked the loose end of Vivian’s bandage underneath the other folds. He worked in silence, knowing that now was not the time for his usual friendly banter, especially in light of what had just transpired. Vivian was in pain, and he certainly didn’t want to salt any wounds, physical or emotional.
He checked to make sure that every portion of the wound was covered and the bandage wasn’t in any danger of coming undone. He turned away from the cot, walking back towards his workstation to stir the boiling tonic. He carefully added more tree song flakes as he stirred the violet liquid with the well worn wooden spoon. As he watched the liquid swirl with the movement, his own thoughts mimicked the motion. Wex couldn’t help but wonder, when had things gone wrong? What act had set in motion the events that lead the loss of one of their numbers?
He didn’t have any of the answers, but he really wished he did.
“Loving any of us is a death sentence, isn’t it?”
Wex was almost startled into knocking over the cauldron at Vivian’s words. She had been so silent since the shuttle had brought her and the rest of the team back that he had been certain that it would take several days until she could bring herself to say anything, especially after Socorro had told him what had happened. But apparently she had as many unanswerable questions as he did.
Wex turned the query over in his mind, knowing exactly where it had come from. All three of the people Vivian had let herself get close to had been ripped away from them in one form or another. He himself had felt personal loss of loved ones because of the danger his oddity presented. His mark pulsed uncomfortably on his inner wrist at the reminder. He knew that Socorro too had endured grief.
Any other time he would’ve tried his best to shift her perspective, as well as his own, but today he knew it would be no use.
“It seems it is,” he breathed.
It seems it is indeed.