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// 3 - Light 
// Story: Born of Fire 
// by nimaru 
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She was worse. Much worse.

She sat with her back to the wall, her legs sprawled on the floor. Her arms lay limp and palm-up beside her.  If it weren't for her throaty cough, he might have thought her dead already... though Henry knew from experience it wouldn't be much longer.

He stepped forward slowly – as if approaching a wounded animal; worried she might run away. Quietly –afraid to breathe too loudly, he set the apple and jerky on the floor beside her. It was a useless gesture, but it had become their tradition and he couldn't bear to break it. She tried to thank him as usual, but fell into a dreadful coughing fit instead.

Henry jumped and ran for the water pump. He hastily filled a cup and sloshed it badly in his hurry back to her side. When it he put it to her lips, another cough splattering red-tinged water across his arm. Feeling as if he'd swallowed a set of horseshoes, he held it a moment longer until he was sure she'd had a chance to drink. He set it down and started to stand. There was nothing more to say; nothing more to be done.

Her touch was so light, he barely noticed when she brushed his hand. He looked at her, surprised. Her hair was matted and fell across half of her face but it was enough to see her smile. In barely a whisper, she said, "it's alright."

Henry stiffened. Unable to speak, he just nodded once instead. Seemingly satisfied, she resumed her ragdoll pose which he took as his cue to leave. He rose awkwardly and stumbled out the door and down the walkway where he braced himself against Dee's side. The girl's smile set his head spinning and images flooded into his mind.

He hadn't thought of Eliza much in the past year – not since the day he'd lowered her into the ground. But now he clearly remembered her laugh, her smell, the sparkle of her eyes. There was that time she'd left laundry out and it started to rain – she was so sopping wet and angry when she'd come back in, he had to fight not to laugh. Water dripped off her hair and arms as she threw the clothes into the basket with a loud slpurch. He couldn't hold it in anymore.

She rounded on him hollering and complaining – looking for a fight, but he didn't oblige. His feelings overflowed and he pulled her into a kiss. They made love that night then lay together; listening to the rain pouring outside. He'd fallen asleep with her in his arms feeling more content and happy than any other time in his life.

He finally understood. Eliza was the last person to smile at him, to care about him, to try to lift him up when he was low. The girl was a complete stranger who owed him nothing and yet she wouldn't let him succumb to misery. Her smile, her words of encouragement – from the time they'd met until now, she cared more of his suffering than her own. As she lay dying on the floor – just a child – with what might have been her last breaths, she urged him to find peace.

Henry lay his head against Dee's shoulder. It wasn't proper for a grown man to weep so he set himself to adjusting the wagon straps instead. It took a long, long time to set them right.