The rickety stairs groaned under Jarek's weight, each step sounding like a complaint from the old, crumbling apartment block. It felt like the whole building might just give up and collapse, but somehow, it held on, much like its tenants. The railings were slick, not with water but a nasty mix of rust and grime that made you question every touch. Outside, the Shatterzone was alive with its usual symphony: faint shouts of anger or desperation, the constant drone of battered generators, and the occasional crash of someone rummaging through trash like their life depended on it, which, in most cases, it did.
When Jarek shoved his apartment door open, the creak of the hinges was loud enough to wake the dead, or so it felt. The place was no palace, not even close. Hell, it wasn't even cozy, but it was a roof over their heads, and in a city like this, that counted for something. The air inside carried a strange mix of antiseptic sharpness and the faint scent of synthetic fabric, probably the quilt wrapped around Lira.
She sat curled up on their sorry excuse for a couch, her toes peeking out from under a patchwork quilt that looked like it had been stitched together by someone who'd run out of patience halfway through. Lira's face was pale and her cheeks sunken, she turned toward Jarek as he stepped in, and despite the dark circles under her eyes, she managed a small, almost apologetic smile.
"You're late," she murmured, her voice a whisper, barely cutting through the muffled chaos outside.
Jarek dropped his bag on the floor with a thud, sinking into a creaky chair across from her. "Yeah, overtime," he said, though his tone carried no conviction. As he leaned back, a sharp pull from a wound on his side made him wince.
Her eyes narrowed, catching the subtle twitch from Jarek. "You're hurt again, aren't you? She asked. Let me see," she said, already half-rising.
"It's nothing," Jarek grunted, waving her off. His deflection was about as convincing as a paper umbrella in the rain.
"Don't lie to me, Jarek," she snapped, her voice trembling slightly, though not from anger. She stood, shaky but determined, and crossed to grab the medkit. "Sit still," she ordered, her tone leaving no room for argument.
Reluctantly, he shrugged off his jacket, exposing the torn fabric of his shirt and the angry red gash underneath. Her hands moved with a mix of gentleness and precision, cleaning the wound without a word.
"You keep saying you don't have a choice," she muttered, her frustration bubbling just under the surface. "But there has to be another way, right?."
Jarek let out a short, humorless laugh. "Another way? In the Shatterzone? Don't kid yourself, Lira. The only way out of here is up, and up there" he gestured toward the ceiling, as if pointing to the elusive Upper City"people like us aren't even considered as humans ."
"You're so stubborn," she sighed, pressing a bandage against his side with a bit more force than necessary. "But I know why you do it. You think you have to save me but you don't. I'm not afraid of death."
His gritted his teeth, and his voice came sharp. "I do have to save you."
Lira met his glare head-on, her eyes glimmering with a defiance that reminded him of their mother. "I don't want you killing yourself for me, Jarek. I can't be the reason you throw your life away."
"This isn't up for discussion," he shot back, his tone like steel. "You're all I've got left, and the clinics down here? They can't do a damn thing for you. If I have to bleed every night to keep you breathing, I will."
Her shoulders sagged, the fight draining out of her. "You don't get it," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I'm not scared of dying, Jarek. I'm scared of losing you."
For a moment, the room fell silent, the hum of the failing electrical system the only sound. Jarek leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
"I'm not going anywhere," he said quietly, the edge in his voice softening. "I've survived worse than this. I'll keep fighting until I can get you the treatment you need. That's a promise."
Lira didn't respond immediately. She shuffled back to the couch, her movements slow, almost hesitant, before wrapping herself in the quilt again. "I just wish it didn't have to be this way," she murmured, staring out the grimy window as the drizzle outside picked up. "For either of us."
Jarek wanted to say something, something that would lift the weight off her shoulders, but he had nothing. Instead, he sat back, the tension in his muscles slowly easing, though the room felt heavier than ever.
From his bag, he pulled out the crumpled wad of credits he'd earned that night. It wasn't much, not nearly enough, but it was something. A start, maybe.
Outside, the wail of a distant siren cut through the night, and the neon signs of the Shatterzone painted their tiny apartment in ghostly hues. Jarek turned toward the window, his jaw tightening as he stared out at the decaying sprawl of the city. Somewhere out there, an answer existed, an escape, a cure, something. And he just had to find it, no matter the cost.