Fallen [BILLIE EILISH]

Another PAIGE_2807 original

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Neveah watched her carefully. "You are good with him," she said.

Billie did not look back. "He needs someone to not look scared."

Neveah studied her from across the room. The woman who filled stadiums now sat in a tent smelling faintly of antiseptic and fear, dabbing a child's fever as though that were the only stage that mattered.

"You are afraid," Neveah observed gently.

Billie's hand stilled for half a second. "Yeah," she admitted.

Silence stretched between them, not hostile now but heavy with honesty. Neveah pushed herself upright and stepped closer to the bed. "I did not become a surgeon for money."

Billie glanced back, wary.

"I became one," Neveah said slowly, "because there are moments when someone is balanced on the thinnest edge between living and dying, and you get to reach across and pull them back. It feels like stealing from something dark."

Billie held her gaze. "And here?" she asked quietly.

"Here," Neveah said, eyes flicking to Ali, "Disease is the worst kind of injury to have, in my opinion. I can cut off a leg to save a life, but I can't fix what I can't see,"

"And knowing all that, you still stood in here and took your mask off," Billie caught her gaze. "Why?"

Neveah smiled softly, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I felt your terror, and that was something I knew I could fix just by being here," She explained. "Medicine isn't always physical,"

Billie didn't know what to say. Instead, she just nodded, accepting the selfless act as nothing more than a doctor attending her patient. "If we survive this, I'll buy you a cup coffee," Billie teased.