Ripping Wings off of Butterflies

"This morning…" Naomi began, pausing and taking a deep but shaky breath in an attempt to gather herself, "This morning, I vomited blood." … "We'll get this figured out," Maria finally said, surprising even herself with how certain she sounded. "And then, we'll figure out what to do. None of us are- are going to let you die." / about two years post-TT, pre-established Naomi/Maria