Io wrapped the child up in her coat, picked it up, and took a couple of steps before she felt a tug on her pant leg. Io's left hand had already drawn the bone sword a few centimeters before she remembered that the sickly one was coming with them. The sickly one shivered at that moment, the feeling of the air becoming distinctly colder, and stepped closer to its would-be killer. Io looked down at the child.
"If you cannot keep up, I will leave you," Io told the child apathetically. There, surely that would appease the healthy child, as Io had given the sickly child the chance to come with them, right? See, this is a compromise too. Io praised herself as she retraced her steps out of the alley with her new family member and the parasite- er, her new family member's pet? Pets are temporary, right?
Io shook her head as she headed home. A book she once read emphasized the importance of understanding and supporting a family member's needs. So, this would be Io supporting her sibling, right?
Hmm… She would have to take time to think it over. After all, this was an extremely serious matter she had committed to. A family, in order to be tight-knit, needed to have each other's back and defend one another against all. She knew that. However, a problem that she ran across in her reading was when family members were not trustworthy. Io pursed her mouth thoughtfully. Since her new sibling was so young, it shouldn't be an issue. Why she'd be practically raising it- no, him or her, she corrected herself.
While Io had been working through the mechanics of what family should be and shouldn't be, the sickly child followed her. The tiny figure was sweating heavily, cheeks ruddy from fever, but her gaze held firm on the stranger that carried her brother. It felt like she was dying with every breath she let out, but the last thing she wanted to do was lose sight of the stranger that carried her brother.
Two hours later, Io finally stopped by the old library. With technology being so engrained in society, everyone had gradually forgotten about paperback books. It worked out for Io though, that just meant that this was a safe place and she had access to educating herself without the worry that she'd be tracked through the visual id on a piece of tech.
Io shoved her body against the doorway, marched up one of the two sets of stairs that framed the entrance, and made her way to the third floor. She entered the only open room in the hall and gently laid the child onto a worn loveseat. After making sure that the child was laying comfortably, Io gingerly unwrapped her coat to check on the wound. The blood had soaked through the scarf Io noticed, and she bit her lip in consternation. If she was going to save her new family member's life, she needed to leave to get some Mend, a decent healing serum.
She hesitated, though, unwilling to leave, but she knew she needed to go. Her hand rubbed against her chest and Io's brows furrowed at this feeling… What was it? Worry? Yes, it was 'worry'. Io reaffirmed. She moved over to grab a sheet and blanket from the end of the couch. After she ripped the sheet into decent size strips, Io removed the child's dressing and balled up a small piece of cloth, and inserted it into the wound before redressing it.
While her hands moved, the furrow in her brows grew deeper. She hadn't realized that she'd feel so torn when the time came to grab the medicine she needed for the child. It wasn't that she didn't want to help her new family member. Not to mention, no one had ever said that she'd feel this way and, frankly she didn't understand why. It was… Unsettling. She needed to go, to get medicine so the child could survive, and they could be a family, but why was she hesitating?
Io nibbled on her lower lip as she contemplated the possibility of taking the child with her. If there was a fight, she'd need to put the child down to deal with the threat. What if there were more, though? Two was fine. She could handle two, even three, but she was only human. Armed or not. If she couldn't resolve the problem, then Io would escape.
However, escape equaled failure, not because of incompetence to keep her family and herself safe, but the failure of accomplishing what she set out to do. Enough hesitating. If Io did nothing, she could lose the child before she even got the chance to enjoy being a family. So she could worry. That was okay, but she would need to leave the child at the library. It was for the best.
Io finished tearing apart some cloth and laid them neatly on the coffee table. She then strode over to an apothecary situated under a window next to the fireplace and set a bowl out. She put the bowl down and grabbed a ladle from the pot hanging in the fireplace. The water was hot now, but it would cool down quickly enough once she soaked the rags in it.
Once satisfied, Io went back to the chaise lounge where her new sibling lay and put the bowl next to the bandages on the coffee table. She quickly, but carefully, unraveled the bandages on the child. Once done, Io retrieved a rage from the basket at the foot of the chaise lounge and dunked it into the hot water. There was not enough time to wipe the child down completely, but she needed to clean up that area around the wound.
Her skin turned bright red as the heat scaled her tender skin, but Io's face never changed. Soon, a pile of used rags filled one of the several baskets that were stored underneath the coffee table. Task complete, Io took a moment to double-check her work. Finding nothing wrong, she picked up a bandage and carefully re-wrapped her sibling.
Ten minutes later, Io gently laid the child back down and pulled the blanket off the back of the chaise lounge, and covered the sleeping child. She stood there a moment and then turned to leave. Io took a few steps before turning back around and turned to leave, but turned right back around, and returned to the child's side. Io leaned down and awkwardly kissed the child's forehead. There, that was another ritual in the book she'd seen. Io wasn't sure how putting lips on one's forehead would help, but if it could help her new family member accept her, then why not?
Finished with the family bonding ritual, Io quickly left the room. Unbeknownst to her, the warmth that reflected in her eyes cooled subarctic levels as she focused on the one thing that could save her family. Io turned right down the hall, making a small pit-stop in what she had dubbed her war room. Clothes in a variety of sizes lay all over the place, from new to ragged, all collected from her travels through The Ruins.
She set her bone sword down in a large vase next to the door and pulled her ripped t-shirt overhead, dropping it into a pile of ruined clothes as she headed over to the apothecary cabinet. After years of having been on the run, she had getting dressed on-the-go down to an art form. Io efficiently toed off her shoes in two steps while sliding off her pants between steps as she moved toward her goal.
She opened the drawer on the waist-high apothecary-style cabinet and pulled out another large bowel and rag, placing the items on top. She then hopped up onto the cabinet, careful not to knock the oversized bowl and rag off, and opened the window, letting the cold air breeze through the slightly stuffy room. Io shivered, untied the hose from its moorings, and placed it over the bowl. Io slid her thumb across the cap over the end of the hose and water filled the bowl.
Back when she had first discovered this place, she had figured it'd be a good place to crash from time to time. After her years in The Tunnels, Io relished the feeling of being clean and not being covered in muck when she went to bed. So, she'd dragged four oversized barrels up to the roof one night and spent the next week rigging it so that it wouldn't be obvious that someone was living in the library.
Once the water had reached midway in the bowl, Io capped the hose again and tied the hose back up outside, and shut the window. Io hopped off the cabinet, grabbed the rag, and dipped it into the icy water. This was the worst part, Io thought as she ran the dampened rag across her goose bump-covered skin, but for where she needed to go, she needed to be clean and she just didn't have time to heat more water.
Io efficiently wiped down her body, threw the rag back into the bowl, and grabbed a large sheet that was folded neatly on a chair at the end of the cabinet. She pulled the rough cloth around her shivering form and poked through the clothing she had collected throughout her year on the surface. It didn't take long to come up with a game plan. Io opened the drawers in the wardrobe, exposing various bone weapons.
She picked up a woven bracer that she had made by braiding several pieces of cloth together and wrapped it around her right forearm. Her left hand danced delicately over various bones, selected three and slid them into the bracer.
Io then went to the closest pile of clothes and dug through them, pulling out a tank top and a pair of shorts. After dressing, she grabbed a long black hood cloak from an antique coat rack and buckled it on. Io stopped in front of the shoes. Her brow furrowing in thought. The boots would be the warmest, but she'd have to climb, and they were not exactly flexible. It was cold outside, and she was wearing little as it is. Not to mention that she was probably going to sacrifice her coat. Sighing in defeat, Io grabbed the pair of worn shoes next to the boots to prepare for what she'd have to do.
~~~
Bright green eyes watched the teenager leave the room. It wasn't until Io left the building that the small figure of the small sickly child scooted out from a room diagonal to the one where the she-devil stored her brother. Her brother was so still.
She checked the stairs for any sign of the devil returning. Nothing. The girl darted into the room and grasped her brother's hands. The child put a hand on her brother's head and waited. No, no fever. The child's frail shoulders slumped with relief as she withdrew her hand. Tears slid down her cheeks as she told him he was going to be okay and that he was not alone.
Thirty minutes passed before she told her brother about the place they were in. She looked around the room curiously. This was so new to her. Other than the last couple of days after she and her brother fled their home, they had never been anywhere that didn't smell like dirt and must or have people doing strange things. Her brother always took her back to the room they shared. He didn't enjoy talking to adults there, especially when they came to get him for 'playtime.'
The adults must have bullied her brother. One time she tried to get them to stop taking her brother away, but he had been furious with her. The way he stared made her shut her mouth with a snap. After that, whenever their parents would come to get him, her brother made sure that she stood as far from the door as possible before leaving with their parents.
The girl didn't like their parents. They hurt her brother. He didn't tell her what happened, but the vacant look in his eyes when he came back was all she needed to know to understand that what they did to him was something bad. The little girl talked to her brother until her voice went hoarse. She rested her head against his shoulders, begging for him to wake up, during hour three, but exhaustion from everything that had happened took its toll on her and the girl fell asleep tightly clutching her brother's hands.