The Will To Live (Sanctuary)

[Quillon Hawke]

His focus remained consistent even when a small hand snaked out to grab his. He didn’t flex back, but a slender quirk of the lips suggested he appreciated the gesture, even if he was too focused to respond properly. When the medics gave the all clear that the girl (Penny?, he thought he heard her name) was fine, he relaxed the flows. 

His arms were quivering by then, and dropping them to his side felt like he was dropping a box full of books to the floor. Back in the hospital when the Man in White had done something similar, it seemed as easy as breathing for him. He briefly wondered if that person was out there right now helping people, and if there was a way Quillon could replicate such ease of effort. But such thoughts were for another time.

Anita literally crashed from exhaustion, and while Quillon was returning the copper disc to the drawer, he watched with some measure of concern for her emotional and physical state. But he didn’t know how to help her other than to give her a place to take a nap. 

“You can rest here with Penny as long as you want, or you can hop into the room next door. Nobody will mind.” The doors were all unlocked anyway. They had no secrets, at least, not those kinds of secrets.