#fandom whump

"That was one time!" Sam snapped, holding up his index finger for emphasis. "And it was only because it was actually good! It brought something new besides revamped graphics for once."

"...sure." Rising, Sebastian approached the bank and inspected the rock one more time. It was roughly the size of his palm, very smooth, and almost perfectly circular. Taking a deep breath, he flicked his wrist, hurling the stone across the water.

It skipped four times on the glittering surface before sinking somewhere in the middle of the lake.

"Not bad!" Sam called from where he still sat, back against one of the pine trees.

"Could've been better," Sebastian muttered, brushing his hands on his pants as he walked back, though he didn't sit back down.

"Hey, at least it went further than mine." Sam mimicked the arc of his throw earlier, which had seemed promising until the moment it hit the water, where it made an impressive splash, but not much else.

Sebastian shrugged. "Whatever. If you say so."

Grinning, Sam scrambled to his feet. "Well, I don't know about you, but I know my mom's expecting me for dinner pretty soon. She said something about lake bass? I don't remember, but it sounds good, so I think---"

A low rumble interrupted him.

Sebastian frowned, his confusion reflected in Sam's expression. "What was that?"

They didn't need to wonder for much longer.

The ground beneath their feet lurched, nearly sending Sebastian off his feet before he caught himself on the tree.

Sam cursed, trying to keep his footing. "Earthquake! We gotta---watch out!"

Before Sebastian could figure out what he was warning about, Sam had already grabbed his arm and hauled him out of the way as several chunks of rock cascaded from the mountain behind him, crashing into the tree with a sickening crunch.

That could've been me---

With a sudden ferocity, as if angry at losing its would-be-victim, the earth heaved upward, sending both Sebastian and Sam sprawling.

They scrambled away from the mountainside, all too aware of the drop just a matter of feet behind them where the bridge to the quarry once stood before a quake just like this one had sent it into the chasm.

Just as quickly as it began, the shaking suddenly stopped, though the ground still vibrated beneath Sebastian's hands. Or perhaps that was simply his imagination.

He waited with bated breath for the tremors to return. For the mountain to completely collapse, burying them all in a rocky tomb.

But nothing happened.

Sebastian exhaled slowly in relief.

Sam began to laugh.

Perhaps it was just her imagination.

Brains were funny like that, making up movement and sound in near-darkness to compensate for---

She heard it again.

A choked-back sob, from deeper in the Library.

Cassandra snapped her fingers---a soft sound, but in the silence of the Library, it seemed deafening---and a small glow appeared in her hand. Just bright enough to avoid knocking into the many shelves surrounding her.

She moved towards where she thought the sound came from, a million possibilities running in her mind. Had a supernatural creature escaped? Was it hurt? Was one of her friends hurt? Had someone broken into the Library again and hurt someone? They would regret it. She would show them. Show them exactly what happens when you crossed a Librarian---

Cassandra turned the corner and found Ezekiel.

Curled up into a ball, back pressed against the bookshelf, face hidden against his knees, his arms wrapped around himself.

She froze.

He was shaking.

Cassandra stared at him, rooted to a spot. She should go to him. But… but did he want that? He clearly came here to be alone. No, no, she should leave. Talk to him in the morning.

She would've turned to go, except she waited too long.

He raised his head.

A look of fear crossed his face when he saw her.

Cassandra took a deep breath. "Ezekiel…."

He sighed, eyes darting beyond her.

"I'll… I'll leave…" She spun around, but his quiet voice stopped her.

"Stay… please…."

Cassandra turned back to him and nodded, quickly sitting cross-legged on the floor across from him. The light from her hand made an orange glow between them, almost like a campfire.

The silence stretched between them for several moments.

"…couldn't sleep?"

He shifted slightly, not looking at her. "No. You?"

Cassandra chuckled softly. "I… I got distracted cataloguing again."

"Oh." He glanced out of the aisle again.

"Um… expecting someone?"

He shrugged.

Cassandra nodded slowly. He didn't seem interested in talking, at least not right now, so she would just… not talk.

This wing of the Library was quiet. Jenkins didn't need to sleep, but during the nighttime hours he purposefully kept to the Annex or the other wings so as not to disturb the others. At first, Cassandra had found it eerie and disconcerting, knowing that the Library stretched into infinity all around here and she couldn't see it.

It was still strange sometimes---a place full of thousands of magical artifacts and every book to exist would never be normal---but right now, it was peaceful. Perhaps that was because she knew she wasn't alone.

"Do you remember," Ezekiel said softly, his voice strained, "when we had to retrieve the Atlantean Thaumatite from that DARPA Lab?"

"And we got stuck in a videogame that was collapsing around us?"

"Yeah…."

Cassandra frowned. "Why do you ask?"

Ezekiel hesitated, then started shaking his head. "Nevermind, this is stupid. Forget I said anything."

"Ezekiel…."

He hissed through his teeth. "I lied."

Cassandra blinked. "What?"

"When we fixed it. After I fell and you guys rebooted the game. I lied."

She frowned, remembering what had happened during that mission. The rest of the Librarians only remembered the final loop of what Ezekiel had said was hundreds, maybe thousands, of attempts to escape, all ending in death. Ezekiel had been the only one to retain his memories across loops, but then he fell into the abyss right before the final save point. And when they rebooted the computer---oh.

Oh.

"Oh," she whispered. She didn't know what else to say.

Ezekiel buried his face in his knees again. "Please don't tell anyone," he pleaded, "especially not Baird. I can't…."

"I…" she hesitated, wanting to ask one question, but she didn't know if she would like the answer. "I just… why? Why pretend you didn't remember?"

He mumbled something.

"What?"

"I don't know, okay?" His voice was muffled, but the agitation was clear enough. "I don't know. I just… did."

Cassandra slowly nodded. "Okay."

Ezekiel exhaled slowly. "I… I was scared, I think. Panicked. I saw everything was fixed, that you guys were all right---"

"But you're not!"

He forced out a weak laugh. "Right now, no. Some days it's fine! Some days it's like I did forget about the whole thing."

"…and other days?"

"Other days…" he shook his head. "But I'll be fine, I just need to not think about it too hard or…." he waved vaguely at himself.

"Ezekiel, that's not going to solve the problem. Eve's always going on about how we can't bottle up our emotions, and if anyone would know this kind of thing, it's her!"

"I don't need her to solve this problem. I'm handling it."

Cassandra raised her eyebrows. "Are you?"

He didn't answer.

"Do you really not need her, or is that another lie? One you're telling yourself?"

Ezekiel glanced up at her, and his expression was just so… haunted. Like years' worth of memory weighed upon him like Atlas holding up the sky. "I don't know."

"Just talk to her. You told me, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

"Jury's still out," he mumbled.

Cassandra cracked a small smile. "How about we find her in the morning, I won't even say anything, but if you need me, I'll be right there, okay?"

Ezekiel hesitated, but nodded.

Raistlin was never one for optimism. That sort of thinking was better left to Tas or Caramon. But he liked the idea of dying horribly at the hands of the draconian army even less.

Perhaps they could hide, shrouded in darkness, him in his black robes, Erik in his customary dark clothing. He even had a spell---

His lungs started to burn. It was like he had inhaled hot, coarse sand, and it filled his chest cavity like water.

No.

Raistlin staggered, leaning heavily against his staff, gasping for air.

Nonono not now---

Breath came, but at a cost, the air feeling like claws scratching at his throat.

He began to cough, even as he tried to walk.

Erik, only a few steps ahead of him, froze and whirled around.

Each cough shook Raistlin to his core, his body fighting for the air that choked him. He tasted iron on his lips.

In a blink, the bard was at his side, one arm around his waist, and Raistlin was moving again. "I won't leave you," he whispered.

"Not even..." Raistlin hissed between ragged breaths, "to save... yourself?"

Erik laughed, a quick, harsh sound, different from his usual amusement. "You think too lowly of me, Majere."

Raistlin gritted his teeth, but whether it was from annoyance or against the wave of dizziness threatening to overtake him, he did not know. But Erik had made it clear long ago that it would take much more than a few draconian pursuers to cause him to abandon Raistlin. How much more was yet to be determined.

Fatigue washed over him, and Raistlin cursed under his breath as he lurched forward, strength fleeing him.

"Oh give me that!"

Before Raistlin realized what was happening, Erik snatched up his staff and scooped him into his arms. The bard quickened his pace, though he had to be burdened by Raistlin's weight.

"...what?" Raistlin whispered. The night seemed to be getting darker.

Erik chuckled softly, though Raistlin could hear his heart racing from exertion. "Don't act so surprised."

Raistlin wanted to argue, but his mouth wouldn't form the words.

"Majere?"

The darkness seemed to steal away all sound, all meaning.

"Raistlin!"

It stole him away before he could answer.

---

Erik cursed and picked up his pace. Cursed the circumstances, cursed the damn lich, cursed himself. It did nothing to improve the situation, nor did it improve his outlook on their chances.

He couldn't run forever.

They needed to hide. Needed to buy time.

Erik ran through a mental list of his memorized spells. A few might work, but he needed to be careful. If he overexerted himself he would end up like Raistlin, and that would help no one, least of all the mage.

Ducking into an alley, Erik adjusted his carry to reach one of his many hidden pockets. Before, they had held materials for various tricks and slight of hand performances, from flash paper to hollow coins to dove feathers. Now, some still held such items, but others now contained spell components, as what his fingers found now.

He muttered the words to the spell, and felt the magic take hold not a moment too soon. A squad of draconian soldiers sprinted past the mouth of the alley, glancing only briefly before ruling it to be empty.

And to them, it was.