#also everyone

“Liam,” you gasp, moving forwards as your vision finally clears and the smoke settles, to see him lying on the ground with violet magic sparking from his arms like the tattoos there are a circuit board, not part of a human body.  The others are still standing, and you can hear them call out at all different volumes, various degrees of concern ranging from fully-panicked (your sister) to handling-it-but-worried (Kana).

Sebastian starts to say something about someone checking the exits--that’s right, you were all locked in here, right before--and searching for supplies, other dangers, but his voice fades in the face of Li’s shallow, pained breathing.  You reach down to try and take his hand when it feels like someone shoves a hot knife through your palm and into your forearm.

“Ah--”  You hiss and pull your hand away on reflex, only to see sparks of Liam’s magic crackling off your fingertips as you move.

“Careful,” Azalea says, taking your hand gently in her own.  The red impact mark of whatever just happened fades as she rubs her fingers over it, and your heart clenches before you realize she’s not using any magic.  The marks are just being soothed away.  “We--I think his own spell hurt him.  He wiped out...whatever those things were trying to attack us, but it hit him, too.  I just don’t know...”

“We have to help him,” you say, and Azalea looks at you with determination and sadness in equal parts.  She knows, but she doesn’t know how.

“--have to go,” rasps Liam, drawing your attention.  You look down, and there’s a second where it looks like his eyes are completely black.  They’re not, of course; they’re normal, but it takes you a second to blink away the panic, and that’s enough time for Liam to curl in on himself, turning away from you as he repeats, “Go.  Bef... Before m-more of them--”

He breaks off on a gasp.  You’re not sure if it’s the way his whole body shakes through a wince, the way his breath sounds like it’s getting shallower, or the words themselves, like he expects you to leave him there, that hits the hardest. 

But it doesn’t really matter because before you can think better of it, you’re reaching out.  It’s a good thing your body knows what your heart wants to do and doesn’t need your mind’s help right now because as soon as you touch Li again, that bastardized version of his magic floods into you like the world’s spikiest mouthful of a too-hot drink.  You grit your teeth and breathe through the pain as you roll Liam back towards you, getting an arm under his back as you go so that you can pull him up into a hug.  One of his hands lands on your arm and the other on your stomach, trying to push you away.  But you hold on.

“No,” you grit out.  “No, I won’t leave you.”  Liam freezes in your arms at the words, and it’s a shard of ice in your heart.

“Wait!” you hear Azalea say suddenly.  To your horror, the next thing you feel is a hand on your shoulder.  The magic that’s now sparking off of you, just like Li, jumps to whoever touched you faster than you can turn your head, but when you do, you realize with a sinking feeling that it’s your sister who reached out.

It takes another second to realize that it doesn’t hurt as bad anymore.  Your sister's hand grows almost painfully tight on your shoulder, but she doesn't instantly pull away like you had, like she’d touched a hot stove.  And Liam isn’t almost hyperventilating against your shoulder, either.

“Ow,” your sister says, and she lets go, shaking her hand in the air.  “What’s happening?  Are you two--?”

Her words stop suddenly when the pain comes back and you hunch forward, putting more of your body over Liam’s like a shield, even though you’re getting the sense that this doesn’t work like that.  Liam actually cries out this time, and you squeeze your eyes shut.  If he’d started acclimating to the pain, then feeling relief only for it to get worse again was probably harder than getting hurt in the first place.

“I think I get it,” Azalea says.  She sounds as frantic as she does hopeful, this time, and you look over to her from the corner of your eye.  You want to stop her as you see that she’s also reaching towards you, but you can’t without letting Li go.  Her hand lands on your knee.

A soft sound, like she’d just lifted something really heavy (heavy for her, of course), passes her lips, but she doesn’t pull away.  Instead she nods, and when she speaks again, it’s loud enough for everyone to hear.  (You realize that Liam’s cry probably got all their attention, when it became obvious he was still hurting despite your best efforts.)  “Something here is making all our magic turn against us.  It’s why some of us have had a headache, and why Kana started feeling sick when they talked.  When Liam cast a spell, his magic backfired, and his body can’t absorb it back up because it’s... Well, it’s like it’s been poisoned.”

She uses her free hand to point to the almost thorny lines of violet covering you, your sister, herself, and Liam.  It really doesn’t look like Li’s regular magic except the color.

The touch on your shoulder comes back, and you hear your sister hiss a little bit this time.  But her grip stays solid, and the pain lessens again.  “But this helps?” she asks.

You don’t respond as Liam tries to push away from you again, saying, “Don’t-- I’m fine...”

“Aw, I see!” says Rory, voice bright, circling around the group of you clustered on the floor.  “Spread the force over a bigger area, and the pressure gets lighter, right?”  Rory’s hand lands solidly on Azalea’s back, and this time you barely notice a reaction at all except for your own pain decreasing.  Against your chest, Liam is breathing more deeply, and his muscles are no longer so tight that you feel like you’re holding wood instead of a person.

Kana comes up behind you, crouching in a manner that you’re sure is unfairly graceful before putting a hand on your elbow.  They still don’t speak, probably more acutely aware now than ever about how dangerous it is, but their thumb brushes comforting, silent patterns across your arm.  Sebastian, at almost the same time, reaches a hand down to your sister, who takes it with a smile as she catches the look of concern on his features.

With all seven of you, it barely takes a few more seconds for the pain--now reduced to a feeling like slightly-too-hot shower water rather than anything truly dangerous--to drain away completely, leaving Liam spark-free and flushed as his face remains buried against the front of your shoulder.

For a moment, you all just breathe.

Then you hear movement.  Footsteps, maybe, or something else; you’re sure Rory and Sebastian can hear it more clearly even if the result is a bit of a headache down here.

“Are you good?” Sebastian asks, looking between you and Liam.  As soon as you nod, he lets go of your sister’s hand and goes back to trying to find a way out, and one by one, the others go to help.

You notice Liam trembling slightly in your arms as they all move away, and for a horrifying second, you think he's still in pain.  But you’re still holding him, and you feel nothing except the heat of his breath where it’s trapped between you.  You’re about to ask what’s wrong when he speaks, quietly as always but somehow smaller.

“Told you you should’ve left,” he says, and his voice breaks on the last word.  You have a feeling from the tone that he was going to continue and couldn’t.  You hold tighter.

“Liam Michael Cowles,” you say thickly, dropping your forehead helplessly onto his shoulder, “we are not going to leave you.  Don’t even joke about that.  You’re a part of this team--” (family, you think) “--and you’re my friend, and I won’t leave you behind for anything.”

His breath hitches in your ear.  You pull back just enough that he has to put an arm down to hold himself up as you move your hands to press against his face.  “Whatever’s coming,” you say, “we’ll face it together.”