Stone huffed in frustration, unable to argue on that with Jenkins.

“It could be worse,” Jenkins assured him, “you could have Mr. Jones’s fate of cleaning out the lake water tank.”

“You know ya just gave him a reason to go visit his kid, right?” Stone said, picking a dusty jar off a shelf to begin cleaning.

“Perhaps, but his...kid...will also guilt him into cleaning. What parent says no to their...lake monster child?” Jenkins added, walking towards the door. “I will leave you to your work. Please don’t sniff or taste anything, and if something breaks, do come get me as quickly as you can.”

“Will do,” Stone mumbled, gently taking jars and bottles off the wooden shelf, motes of dust fluttering off.

Jenkins had a lot of things in his lab, many of which didn’t get used all that often and thus collected a lot of dust. Besides the slight tickle in his nose, it was oddly satisfying to clean all of the shelves. He found himself humming various songs while he worked, some good ol’ country classics, like he did when he worked on the oil rig.

He wasn’t in much of a hurry to finish his job. There were many shelves in the lab, most of them loaded as full as they reasonably could be. One of them was too tall for Stone to reach from the floor. Sure, he could’ve not done the shelf (even if Jenkins was taller than him by several inches, he still couldn’t see that shelf), but Stone couldn’t leave a job unfinished.

A quick look around found a simple wooden step-ladder, giving Stone just enough height to be eye level with dust-layered surface. Upon closer inspection, one of the bottles, a dark-tinted glass with a wax-sealed cork, seemed significantly less dusty than the others. Stone didn’t pay it much mind and dusted it just as he did all the others.

“So you do like country!” Flynn said, suddenly announcing his presence rather loudly.

“What the fff-” Stone shouted, startled enough to drop the bottle in his hand. It smashed on the counter next to Flynn, splattering him with the liquid inside.

“Woah, didn’t mean to scare you, sorry about that. What is this stuff anyway?” Flynn asked, sniffing his sleeve. He looked up to Stone when he didn’t get a response. “Stone?”

“You are a remarkably attractive man,” Stone said, looking down at Flynn like he was the light of his life. Stone, suddenly wanting to be much closer to Flynn, got off the step-ladder, unknowingly putting his hand in the liquid and glass still on the counter.

“Wait...you said that when-” Flynn stuttered, confusion fading to determination as he leaned against the counter, attempting to look casual. “I never forgot how piercing your eyes are…”

---

After checking on Ezekiel, who thankfully was doing his job and not goofing around, and Cassandra working on the accounting backlog, much to Charlene’s annoyance (which she made known occasionally even from wherever she and Judson currently existed), Jenkins returned to his lab to see how far Stone had gotten in his cleaning. Low voices emanated from the room, not loud enough to distinguish words until he neared the doorway.

Upon seeing Flynn and Stone leaning quite close to each other, saying what sounded like poetry, Jenkins sighed. “Mr. Carsen, why are you distracting Mr. Stone with literature?” Neither man acknowledged Jenkins’s presence. Confused, Jenkins walked into the room, catching sight of the broken glass on the table, glancing up to the shelf where it once sat. “Of all the things to break, you just happened to break the incorrect obsession potion neutralizer.”

While he suffered the fate of listening to the two scholars quote the most impressive sounding love poems they could, Jenkins fervently retrieved the working antidote from a cabinet, pouring the contents into the all-purpose antique perfume bottle sitting next to it. Stone seemed to be making a move, his hand gripped Flynn’s arm, practically purring whatever he was quoting, slowly leaning more into Flynn’s space, to the point they were inches apart.

“Nope, not in my lab you don’t,” Jenkins called out, spraying Stone and Flynn in the face before Stone could close the distance. Their heads lolled forward as the antidote took hold, smacking each other, which brought them back to reality. “Having to listen to you two once was enough, please serenade each other elsewhere.”

Stone looked at Flynn, realized how close he was standing, promptly backed away a couple steps, then glanced at his hand to figure out why it was wet and hurting. “What happened?”

“You apparently dropped the first mix of antidote I made to cure you two from the obsession potion months ago,” Jenkins said, a hint of pity in his voice.

Stone glared at Flynn. “He made me drop it.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you! You were in your own little, country music loving world and didn’t hear me come in,”  Flynn retorted. He then looked at Jenkins. “Why would you keep that if it didn’t work properly?”

“I certainly didn’t think this would happen again. When it comes to potions such as that, a good maker knows to keep everything, just in case it becomes useful,” Jenkins justified himself. “I think you have done enough cleaning for now, Mr. Stone.”

“You sure? I can finish-”

“It’s fine, you were mostly done anyway,” Jenkins cut him off, trying to not show his annoyance.

“Come on,” Flynn said, tugging Stone by the arm to the door. “Let’s get that hand cleaned up.”

Flynn led him to the rather well hidden bathroom (why did the Library have to rearrange the bathroom so far away?), still tugging him unnecessarily. “I know the way, you don’t have to drag me there,” Stone mumbled.

Flynn looked down at his grip like he didn’t realize he was still holding on to Stone and let go, mildly flustered. “Sorry.”

“You alright?” Stone asked as they arrived at the door.

“Hm? Oh, uh, yeah, totally fine,” Flynn stammered as he opened the door and turned on the lights. The first aid kit hung on a hook, well used by the team over the years.  Flynn unzipped the kit and started rifling through the contents, pulling out the useful things like antibiotic ointment and disinfectant and a bandage or two. “Hey, don’t pick at the glass,” Flynn snapped, pulling out the tweezers.

“I can get glass out of my own hand,” Stone sighed, leaving his hand palm up on the counter for Flynn. Blood oozed around the shard, but thankfully only one sliver actually embedded in his hand deep enough to break skin.

“There, got it,” Flynn exclaimed, holding the shard up to confirm his victory before tossing it into the little garbage bin next to the counter. “Here, wipe off the blood.” Flynn handed him some clean gauze while he fiddled with the package of an alcohol wipe.  

“You don’t have to play nurse for me---aghhh,” Stone said, hissing when Flynn suddenly wiped the open wound.

“It’s fine. I’m the one who made you drop it in the first place,” Flynn replied, opening the tube of ointment. Stone offered a finger from his uninjured hand, waiting on Flynn. “Why did you say the same thing you did...last time?” Flynn asked as he squeezed some out on Stone’s finger.

“W...nnngh, what do ya mean?” Stone said, wincing slightly as he applied the ointment.

“Do you not remember?” Flynn asked, handing him a bandage he had started opening for Stone.

Stone took the bandage, pointedly not looking at Flynn while he did so. “I, uh, remember, a little.”

“Well, you said the exact same line as before,” Flynn started, waiting for Stone to look at him.

Stone fiddled with the bandage much longer than it actually took to put on his hand. He finally looked up to meet Flynn’s relentlessly curious stare. “What? I mean, it’s true,” he mumbled.

“Just happened to be the first thing that came to your mind...twice?” Flynn pressed, studying Stone’s face. Stone occupied himself with gathering the used gauze.

“Shut up, look, I’m bleedin’ ‘cuz of you,” Stone chided, waving his hand at Flynn.

“How noble of you, wounding yourself for me,” Flynn teased, smirking.

Stone made an exasperated noise, tossing the bloody gauze in the bin before stalking out of the bathroom.

“Hey, Stone, wait!” Flynn chased out of the bathroom after him, unnecessarily sprinting straight into Stone. In mid panic of him landing on his wounded hand, Flynn tried to grab him as he fell, but instead just managed to grab Stone’s arms and get dragged down with him. At the last second he got his knees under him, which left the two in the wonderfully awkward position of Stone on his back, arms gripped rather tightly by Flynn who straddled his hips.

“Seriously?” Stone huffed as he sucked in the breath Flynn just knocked out of him.

“At least you didn’t land on your hand?” Flynn offered, trying to find the silver lining.

“I wouldn’t be in this predicament if you hadn’t ran into me,” Stone countered.

“True,” Flynn responded.

Awkward silence hung between them until Stone spoke. “Can ya get off me?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, sorry I don’t know what I was doing, um,” Flynn rambled as he scrambled to his feet, offering a hand to Stone to pull him up. “Was just processing and I’ve kind of ruined your day and-”

“Hey, Flynn, it’s alright,” Stone interjected, squeezing Flynn’s hand to get him to quit talking. “Seriously though, what’s going on? You’ve been weird since Jenkins cured us...again.”

“It’s nothing,” Flynn answered too quickly, earning narrowed eyes from Stone. He glanced down at their hands intertwined; Stone made no effort to let go. “Um, heh, ever since the...first time...it kind of made me realize a few things about myself.”

“Oh,” was all Stone could manage when Flynn looked back up at him. A few moments later his words returned to him. “That’s why you’ve been weird around me then?”

Flynn let go of his hand, gesturing as he talked. “Yeah, well I was trying to process, or ignore feelings really, which apparently comes out in odd jokes no one else but you and maybe Jenkins would get and riling you up about various literature debates-”

“And rambling a lot,” Stone added, lightly chuckling.

“Uh yeah, and that.” Flynn raked his hand through his hair.

“To be fair, I didn’t let myself think about it either. And then I went off to Shangri-La and found myself missin’ you a lot,” Stone said, copying Flynn with his uninjured hand. “Though I thought you were being weird ‘cuz of Charlene and Apep and almost dying and all.”

“None of those situations helped,” Flynn clarified. “I didn’t let myself really deal with anything until after we got everything moved back in from D.O.S.A.”

“Heh, I was gone already by then,” Stone admitted.

Flynn attempted to communicate with words, but instead just opened and closed his mouth. Stone chuckled again, amused with Flynn’s fluster. Finally words returned to Flynn. “What am I supposed to say to that?”

“Oh, I dunno, that you feel the same, apparently?” Stone offered, attempting to will away the flush rising to his face.

“Well, I mean, yeah,” Flynn started, stopping when he realized his words, looking at Stone with intent.

It was Stone who closed the short distance, gently pressing his lips against Flynn’s.

It was Flynn who kissed back with passion, pressing him against the stone wall.

---

Sometime later the two made their way back through the Library, intent to make sure Jenkins wasn’t mad at them (and if he still was, doing whatever would appease him). Though they didn’t seem too aware of their tousled appearance, Jenkins definitely picked up on it.

“Did you at least properly dress his hand before you two finally had your fun?” Jenkins asked, looking up at them from a book he had on the counter in his lab.

“W...w...what yes his hand is fine,” Flynn stammered, embarrassed. Jenkins looked to Stone next to him, who looked pretty pleased with himself, or at least what he had to do with Flynn’s excessive stammering. “Is there anything else that needs to be done? Or in the Library? How’s the bug room doing?”

Jenkins rolled his eyes and sighed. “I’m not mad at you Flynn.”

“What?”

“It was an accident, and to be honest, there were a lot worse things that could’ve been dropped,” Jenkins clarified. Flynn literally sighed with relief; Stone relaxed as well, but didn’t show it as much. “You two go on and have fun, or well, you already did…”

“Yeah we did,” Stone added, a mild mix of smug and pleased with himself.

Flynn gawked at Stone. “Aaaand I’m leaving the room now,” he announced, turning on his heels and doing just that. Stone laughed watching him leave.

“If I had known it would take another round of the the potion, I could’ve done something months ago,” Jenkins said, smiling.

“A joke, from Jenkins? This day just keeps gettin’ better and better,” Stone said. “Nah, he needed time, a lot of it apparently.”

“Understandable, we’ve had quite a busy few months,” Jenkins replied. “And I’m not mad at you either, Jacob.”

“Thanks, I guess. I still feel bad though, I was tryin’ so hard not to break anything,” Stone said.

“I could tell. The shelves are spotless. It’s alright to have accidents every once and awhile,” Jenkins said. The smile reappeared on his face. “You better go find him, make sure he isn’t doing anything crazy in his post-sex haze.”

“Jenkins!” Stone exclaimed, which just earned a chuckle from the immortal knight. With another exasperated noise, Stone left the lab rather hastily, suddenly hoping Flynn wasn’t babbling to Cassandra or Ezekiel about what just happened, but even as he speed-walked down the hall, he still found himself feeling light and happy, smiling goofily because that’s exactly how he felt about Flynn.

-----

Post Notes: This is set sometime after the whole D.O.S.A. fiasco, after things have calmed down. I feel like Jenkins would hoard stuff he makes in the “you never know when I might need it” way, kind of a Harry Dresden vibe when it comes to potion making.

“Yeah man, I do this all the time,” Stone replied with a grunt as he heaved his books onto the desk he’d claimed over the years. “Just because I gave up my pen name doesn’t mean I quit putting work out there. And speak for yourself, you’re still here.”

Flynn returned, eyeing Stone’s desk. “Working on Aztec art I see, on your day off. A man after my own heart,” he said, giving a passing glance to Ezekiel.

“What? I’m working too. Gotta stay sharp to keep on top of game,” Ezekiel said, waving his phone which had a lot of code on it.

“Don’t hack into anythin’ important,” Stone cautioned, narrowing his eyes at Ezekiel.

“Heh, that’s how you keep them on their toes, keep toying with the big boys,” Ezekiel chuckled, going back to typing away on his phone. Flynn and Stone glanced at each other, both mildly annoyed, concerned, and a bit in awe of what Ezekiel could do with just his phone.

“Uh, well after we ended up findin’ all that pottery and carvings last week, I couldn’t just let that sit unknown, ya know?” Stone replied, sifting through the books, looking for a specific title.

“I don’t know if they’ll find ‘pot that magically provides any liquid you desire’ very credible,” Flynn said, picking up a book and thumbing through it absentmindedly.

“This ain’t my first paper I’ve written since I came here. I know to leave out stuff like that,” Stone chided, plucking the book out of Flynn’s hands. “I’d like to spend my off day writin’ in peace…”

“Alright, fine. I’ll be doing my own study on…um…farming techniques…in 15th century Japan,” Flynn quipped, looking mildly confused at the words he just said.

Stone gave him a confused look as well. “If that suits your fancy, go right ahead.”

“Well, you have to know more than just art…and history…” Flynn started, heading for the stairs.

“Farming techniques that happened in the 15th century is history,” Stone called after him. Flynn just made an exasperated noise in his defeat at the top of the stairs.

—

Flynn was halfway into a very detailed book on terrace farming and irrigation methods, Stone was a third of the way into his analysis reworking what was a previously unknown style of clay making in Aztec history, and Ezekiel was almost finished digitally breaking into the NSA servers again when the clippings book fluttered on its stand.

Ezekiel was the first to notice, his desk being the closest, and you probably could’ve drove a train through the Annex before Stone would focus on anything outside his little research bubble.

“Uh guys?” Ezekiel said, voice echoing. No one responded. “Guys, I think the clippings book has something for us…STONE!”

Stone jumped in his seat, glaring at Ezekiel. “What?! I’m work-” His eyes caught the clippings book’s movement. “Flynn, we got somethin’ comin’ in,” he called up to the balcony. He waited a moment, listening to just paper shifting, realizing that Flynn was probably just as entranced by his reading. “FLYNN!” Stone shouted, much louder than Ezekiel had been anticipating, making the thief jump a little.

A soft thud, not unlike that of someone accidentally smacking their head on a bookshelf, first answered. “What?!” Flynn shouted back, followed promptly by a solid thud of a hefty book falling on something before hitting the floor. “Ow, what?” Flynn scrambled up to his feet, shoes squeaking under the sudden stress as he practically launched himself at the balcony to see what was happening.

“Clippings book,” Stone said plainly, gesturing to the book.

“Oh, um, alright,” Flynn replied, attempting to look not so flustered by fiddling with his jacket. He spun on his heels, not quite sprinting down the stairs. “What’s it say?”

“Looks like break ins at several museums in Argentina…Museo Nacional de Bellas Artes, Juan Carlos Castagnino Municipal Museum of Art, Tigre Municipal Museum of Fine Art, Museum of Latin American Art of Buenos Aires, and Mueso de Arqueologia de Alta Montana de Salta, all hit within two weeks,” Stone said.

“But they weren’t taking any good stuff,” Ezekiel added, looking at the clippings book over Stone’s shoulder. “I’ve been to the ones in Buenos Aires…there’s loads better stuff to get, worth a lot more than the minor works they grabbed.” Stone eyed him, long past arguing about the other values of art besides monetary.

“Sounds like someone’s acquiring inventory to sell on the black market,” Flynn decided.

Ezekiel was unconvinced. “Apparently they don’t intend to break the bank.”

“For one of those, maybe, but all of them together? They’re playin’ the quantity game, not quality. And who knows how much they have already,” Stone explained.

“We need to investigate the break ins. Which was most recently hit?” Flynn asked.

“Looks like Tigre, hit yesterday evening,” Ezekiel said. “What would stealing art have to do with us though?”

“Who knows…maybe the stole something with magical properties, or they already acquired something and this was the Library’s way to get us on their tail…thus why we should investigate in person,” Flynn said, already fiddling with the back door controls.

“Don’t we wanna get Eve and Cassandra?” Stone asked.

Flynn looked up at him, thought about it for a moment, then went back to fiddling with the back door. “We’ll be fine. They deserve a day off…a full day off.”

Ezekiel and Stone glanced at each other; Ezekiel shrugged, not sure if they should or not, so Stone found a clean piece of paper and wrote a note.

Eve, Cassandra, and Jenkins,

Something is going on in Argentina. In case the clippings book changes, someone has been stealing art from several museums, various minor works. We’re going to investigate the most recent burglary at the Tigre Museum. Flynn said you two deserved your day off, and I don’t think anything will happen while we collect information. We’ll probably be back before any of you return.

-Stone

“Come on, door’s ready,” Ezekiel said just as Stone signed his name.

“Alright alright, I’m not gonna leave them completely in the dark of where we went,” Stone quipped, placing the letter in a clear spot on the table. He gave a look to Flynn as he walked to the door; the Librarian knew exactly what the look meant and cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Okay, off to Argentina we go,” Flynn said, opening the door and stepping through. The others followed after him.

In Portland, it had been shaping up to be a sunny day, but as they stepped out of the front door of a house next to the museum, they were greeted by a chilly rain. Despite the weather, Stone was like a kid at a candy shop when he saw the ornate architecture on the waterfront. The cold, and their lack of rain gear, didn’t let them linger and admire the columns at the front of the building for long.

Ezekiel started typing on his phone once they stepped inside. He let the two nerd out while he searched the digital inventory of the museum. Once he found useful information, he placed himself in front of the painting the two historians had been geeking out on to get their attention. “Lucky for the thieves, the small sculpture apparently had been taken down to the archive so a grad student could do research,” Ezekiel said, secretly amused by the annoyed looks from Stone and Flynn (Stone was actively trying to look around him without being too obvious).

“Alright, find a staff entrance, and we’ll head down,” Flynn said, mildly distracted again by the painting.

Ezekiel started walking to the door he remembered seeing in the previous room they’d been in, but neither Stone nor Flynn budged. Ezekiel shook his head and sighed, deciding he needed to physically drag them away from the art. “Guys, we need to do this before I turn thirty,” he patronized, feeling like a parent with two obnoxious kids. Flynn and Stone both mumbled something about wanting just a bit more time, not even looking at Ezekiel, so he hooked his arms around each of theirs and forcefully trudged to the hallway.

“Wh-I can walk on my own,” Flynn yelped, his focus finally shattered. He quickly pulled his arm out from Ezekiel’s and strode quickly in the direction he assumed Ezekiel had been going…which was opposite from where Ezekiel was taking them.

Stone took longer to simply extricate his arm, pointedly not looking at Ezekiel. “He does know that the main door was the other way, right?”

“Give him a second,” Ezekiel said, casually leaning against the entryway.

Flynn’s footsteps stopped, turned around with a small squeak on the tile floor, and started back up towards them. “Stairwell is near the entrance.” He walked past them without waiting on them to catch up. Ezekiel gave Stone an amused and knowing glance before following after Flynn.

The simple keypad lock was no match for Ezekiel Jones of course. The three descended the stairs to a lower ceiling-ed hallway with a few doors on each side before it turned right, but they didn’t get much farther than the bottom of the stairs when a lady in a navy pantsuit rounded the corner. Her relaxed posture went managerial when she saw them.

“Who are you and how did you get down here?” she asked in Spanish. Remembering the plane from Venezuela, Stone was going to respond, but Flynn beat him to it.

“We are librarians,” Flynn said, or thought he said with the right inflection to be an incantation. In reality he said something close to “we are the esteemed keepers of books.” The lady looked at him in confusion.

Stone knew he said way too many words for the simple phrase, so he stepped in front of Flynn a bit and said, “Apologies, we are the Librarians.” He’d been practicing saying that phrase in a variety of languages ever since Flynn told him he was using magic; that little skill was a priceless tool they needed when he wasn’t around.

The lady nodded in understanding, relaxing from intimidating to professional. “You must be the visiting librarians from the University of Texas. Come, the archive is this way.” She motioned with her hand for them to walk into the hallway. “Your friend speaks my language like the classics I used to study,” she said to Stone, who mostly understood what she said. Thankfully she went on before he could fumble a response. “You’re early, but that isn’t a problem. You may familiarize yourself with the facilities you will use while here. Dr. Ramos will return in a couple hours.”

She led them around the corner. The hallway didn’t go farther than twenty feet before ending in another door with a keypad. She stopped in front of the first door on their left, opening the unlocked door to reveal a standard looking research room for the items that came to the museum. “The interns must be on their lunch break, but they will be back soon. If you need anything, just ask the front desk upstairs. You can dial 0 on the phone and ask for Ms. Ruiz,” the lady explained, putting a hand to her chest when she said her name.

Stone gave her a warm smile. “Gracias,” he said, trying to sound as genuine as possible. Apparently it was enough to prompt Ms. Ruiz to go back to whatever she’d been doing a moment before; she left the trio in the room with a little wave. “Ok you really need to learn modern Spanish Flynn.”

Flynn held his hands up in defense. “What? Just because my Spanish is more poetic-”

“It’s five hundred years old. You’re talkin’ to them with the Spanish equivalent of Shakespearean English,” Stone quipped. “She may have understood you and thought it was odd, but most people are going to be clueless.”

“Duly noted. Next time I have a few months to my disposal I’ll do an online learning course,” Flynn spat, particularly annoyed.

“Guys. No time to argue about language skills,” Ezekiel said, sighing. Stone looked like he was about to go at it, but visibly restrained himself. “The sculpture was taken from this room, with one exit unless you count the vents. There’s the door at the end of the hall that could go somewhere.”

Flynn switched his focus to the problem at hand. “Considering it happened during hours, they couldn’t just walk out with it.”

“Maybe they disguised themselves as museum employees,” Stone offered as he looked around the room.

“For a large museum, plausible, but for anything with less than fifty or so-” Ezekiel felt something prick the back of his neck. Immediately his hand went to source of the stabbing pain, finding something that felt a whole lot like a dart. It was his fault for having his back to the door. He spun around to find the attacker, but that spin emphasized the fact that they were sedative darts; he careened into a workbench as the world decided to be slanted.

A man in dark clothing filled the doorway, mini crossbow in hand and aimed at the now uncovered Flynn. “Ezekiel? Hey, who are you?” Flynn said, eyes glancing from the wobbly Ezekiel to the intruder.

Stone turned around to see who Flynn was talking to just in time to see Ezekiel collapse and Flynn get a dart square in the forehead. “Not this again…you’re dead meat!” Stone yelled, charging at the man. He had ten foot worth of floor to cover, and he did his best to do it quickly, ducking down to make it harder to hit skin. He took the intruder in a solid tackle, tumbling out into the corridor.

Stone didn’t take into account that darts work just as good in melee range as stabbing weapons. Pain shot up Stone’s arm as the body underneath him stuck a dart into his forearm. “Heh, you gotta do better then that,” Stone growled, socking the man in the jaw.

The man didn’t seem that deterred by the punch. He hooked his leg around Stone’s and flipped them, throwing Stone not very gently into the concrete floor with a thud. “Playin’ dirty now are we?” Stone rumbled, starting to feel a little fuzzy. He fought it off as best as he could to get out of the pinned position he was in, pulling a trick he learned at Shangri-la. Admittedly, a prehensile tail would’ve made it easier, but Stone got his legs bent and twisted his torso as quick as he could, knocking the man’s knees out from underneath him so Stone could give him a taste of his own medicine.

Now free of the extra weight, Stone scrambled to his feet, leaning on the wall for support while he squared up again. Despite knowing how it felt to be sedated via dart, Stone’s vision started blurring as he tried to fight it. “Come and get it,” Stone taunted, except it sounded more like “Cmmmm n ge’ ‘t.”

The man chuckled at Stone, simply lifting the crossbow at him once more and firing a dart straight at his forehead. Stone looked up at the metal cylinder sticking out of his forehead, pulled it out with a grunt, and let it clatter to the floor. “Yynnn…hgnn…” Stone attempted to communicate, but the ground suddenly came up at him in disconcerting speed. Stone made a mental note to ask Jenkins if there was a way to deal with sedatives better before everything went black.

—

Flynn woke up first. The floor was hard, but he was leaned up against something that smelled like musty wood. At the moment his eyes were useless. Wherever they were, it was pitch black, but small, based off the reverb of him clearing his throat. Flynn knew where he was at least; this wasn’t his first time locked in a closet.

Duct tape bound his hands and legs, but they didn’t put him in a position to keep him from undoing his bonds. Having his arms in front of him made it loads easier to stand up using the wall and the crate he’d been leaned against. Finding the door, and subsequently the lightswitch, was the next step.

Said step was hindered when Flynn’s shuffling found something that felt a lot like a body. He kept shuffling around, judging whoever it was to be laying on the concrete floor. A noise, a grunt, that sounded a lot like Stone came from the ground.

“Stone?” he called out to the dark as he continued to feel the wall.

“Hnngh,” Stone replied. Seeing…well hearing that Stone wasn’t quite able to help yet, Flynn focused on his task, finally shuffling enough to feel the rough cinder block change to a wooden doorframe. He ran his bound hands up and down, then went to the other side of the door, finally whacking a little metal box with a switch.

Harsh, bright light from the fluorescent light in the ceiling made them both groan. “Stone? You alright?” Flynn asked, shaking his head while his eyes adjusted.

“I’ll make it,” Stone said, voice croaky. He sat up slowly, using the wall for support. “What is it with closets?” Flynn looked at him; he had to repress the urge to ruffle Stone’s messed up hair while he couldn’t do anything about it.

“Heh, maybe I can bake my way out of this one too,” Flynn chuckled. He kneeled down in front of Stone and started peeling away the tape, making quick work of Stone’s wrist binds.

Stone was not so cheery about their predicament. “Where do ya think they put Ezekiel?” he asked as he undid Flynn’s wrists.

“Well we’re still at the museum, I think, so either they took him someplace else or he’s also locked up somewhere,” Flynn said. They both went about undoing the tape around their legs. “He’ll be fine, he’s Ezekiel Jones.”

Stone freed his legs first and gave Flynn a wary look, but Flynn didn’t seem to pick it up. Once he got the tape off his legs he immediately went to searching the room for anything useful. The small room didn’t have a whole lot to work with: there was the crate Flynn had been against, some collapsed cardboard boxes and crates against the back wall, cobwebs, and dust. Flynn hadn’t been too concerned about getting out until now.

He didn’t even notice he was pacing the small space until Stone called him out. “Would ya quit? You’re kickin’ up dust and wastin’ energy. It’s not gonna keep Ezekiel any safer.”

“I can’t. I need to keep moving,” Flynn explained, pacing for a few moments before he registered the words. He stopped, giving Stone a curious look.

“Well…I mean, it’s not. What? I can have concern about his well-being,” Stone said, defensive under Flynn’s relentless gaze.

“You haven’t voiced it before…” Flynn started, watching him.

“‘Cuz he’s not been alone, like this, since…” Stone trailed off.

“Why can’t he be alone? He’s capable of handling himself,” Flynn countered, confused by Stone’s sudden wariness.

“You didn’t think he was actin’ weird at the super collider facility?” Stone asked.

“I thought he finally decided to show that he cares about us,” Flynn said, not sure why it was significant.

Stone rubbed his face with a hand. “He was terrified of losing us. He thought he was being a hero.”

“He was a hero…” Flynn said.

“He thought he had to be otherwise he’d be reliving his nightmares,” Stone added.

Flynn was further confused. “Nightmares?”

“From the loop when we were at the DARPA facility. He didn’t remember anything until after we returned from Prospero’s dream world he put us in, for whatever reason, and it’s not been easy for him,” Stone explained.

“So he’s got ptsd…and I threw him in danger’s way on a theory,” Flynn sunk down against the wall next across from Stone, color draining from his face.

“That’s not on you, you didn’t know,” Stone attempted to console, knowing it wasn’t going to do much to help.

“How do you know all this? Ezekiel doesn’t talk about stuff like that,” Flynn said, pointedly staring at the concrete floor.

“He…um…told me…” Stone stammered. Flynn looked up at that, waiting for him to continue. “I, after the whole love potion thing with Cindy, I assumed he wasn’t affected because he’d been in love with her, and told him that. He didn’t say anything, but I realized I totally read his body language wrong, and went to apologize, except we got into an argument, and he let something slip.”

“He must trust you, to tell you what he’s experiencing,” Flynn said, not really meaning to insinuate anything, but also trying to test the waters.

“We’re just friends, he doesn’t…he isn’t…well I dunno what he is anyway,” Stone said, trying to say anything revealing but failing. “It’s not like we need to have a thing to be trusting. You’d know that if you didn’t keep running off all the time. You gotta be with people to build trust with them.”

“I was doing important work that had to be done while you all did yours,” Flynn spat back, suddenly defensive again.

“It was sure hard to see you cared when you’d just boss us around or ignore us while you were here,” Stone said, narrowing his eyes at Flynn.

“I’ve changed…I’m working on it, okay? I know now that I was being an ass, and I had my reasons, but it was no excuse,” Flynn exclaimed throwing his hands up. “I’ve always cared, especially for Ezekiel, I just suck at actually conveying it. He trusted me with his life, and I really hadn’t done anything for him to warrant it.”

Stone looked at Flynn, surprised. “He does trust you…he just sucks at showing it too,” Stone said, biting his lip as he thought about what he was going to say. “The nightmares were only of us, at first, but after you about died defeating Apep, he started having them of you too. Really shook him up.”

“He’s actually telling you all this?” Flynn asked, mildly taken aback.

“I…well I kind of made him tell me when he showed up at my door in the middle of the night in a paranoid, half awake state. That’s when I first found out how bad it was,” Stone explained with a shrug. “I had him over, just in case, the night we defeated Apep, which was a good call, ‘cuz that’s when the nightmares involving you started.”

Stone was trying to not show much, but Flynn could easily see how much he cared for Ezekiel. “I’m glad you can be there for him.”

“You can too…I mean it’d mean a lot for him to know that from you,” Stone said.

“I can’t be there for him, not like I’d like,” Flynn said, slumping more against the wall.

Stone looked at him, confused for a moment before realization dawned on his face. “What’d ya mean….oh.” Stone gave Flynn a sympathetic look. “Didn’t know you…”

“That I’m bi? Well there’s a lot we don’t know about each other, that we probably would’ve learned if I hadn’t been running on my own. Besides, it wouldn’t work anyway. I’m too old, too independent and such. There was a whole intervention and all,” Flynn said, waving a hand in front of him while he talked.

“To be fair, I don’t think he cares about age too much,” Stone added with a smirk before he realized what he said. “Uh, I mean, well he’s done some things that make me think, but he’s never explicitly said anythin’ about it-”

“So you are…a thing?” Flynn asked, trying to get Stone to be clear about it.

“No…well…maybe. He’s never said exactly, but it’s more than just being there for him when he needs it,” Stone said. Flynn gave him a look, eyebrows raised. “No…not like that, God Flynn I’m not taking advantage of him.”

Flynn put his hands up in defense. “I wasn’t, I didn’t mean, I was just trying to figure out what you meant,” Flynn stammered. “I mean the age remark made me think you were attempting to hint at me to go for it and I wasn’t sure because that’d be a horrible thing to screw up over miscommunication and I wouldn’t want to ruin whatever you two have going on-”

“Flynn, it’s alright, I just overreacted a bit,” Stone interjected, looking at Flynn with a mix of pity and affection. “I guess, I kinda was? I dunno, I’m not the one to be suggestin’ anythin’ like that for him, it didn’t come out right.”

“Okay, makes sense. Though for you to imply that I should, uh, see what’s there, while you at least are definitely doing something anyway…not that there’s anything wrong with relationships like that, but it’d make more sense if it was mutual all around, and I can only speak for myself,” Flynn sort of explained, attempting to stick his toe in the water.

Stone bit his lip again, this time not a look of contemplation. “Well…”

The door suddenly swung open, startling the two out of their conversation. Ezekiel stood in the doorway, looking a little worse for wear with some cuts and bruises, but was keeping it together. “You didn’t even try to escape? What were you doing, having a heart to heart before you died?” Ezekiel joked, completely oblivious.

“Um, n…no,” Stone sputtered, scrambling to his feet. “We didn’t have anythin’ to get us out with. ‘S Not like we could break out with crate pieces.” Ezekiel gave him a look, mainly curious, before stepping out of the way to let the two leave.

Flynn looked mildly guilty for a moment, though why Ezekiel had no clue. “When it comes to escaping, you take the hat,” Flynn said to Ezekiel, patting him on the shoulder. “Let’s get out of here, before they realize we’re gone.”

The three sprinted down the hallway and back up the stairs, no dangerous looking people around. The main museum floor had groups and individuals here and there, staff members giving tours, and thankfully a lack of anyone in all black with considerable muscle mass armed with mini crossbows or other unfriendly weapons.

Outside had more people than before; the rain had stopped, the cloud blanket broken into chunks floating lazily through the sky. Flynn bent down and felt the concrete. “How long were we in there?”

Ezekiel patted his pockets uselessly. “They knew enough to clean me out…only had my phone and wallet on me, not that any of it would do them good,” he said, mildly annoyed.

Stone searched the sky for the sun, waiting until it peaked through a break in the clouds. “I’m no Cassandra, but I think it’s a little past noon, give or take an hour, which means we were out for at least an hour down there.”

“Okay, not too much time lost. We need to find wherever they’re keeping the items they’ve stolen,” Flynn decided, looking around for inspiration of where to go next. “The street behind the museum, perfect place to keep a car.”

“Are you suggesting we tail them on foot?” Ezekiel said, looking at Flynn like he thought he was insane.

“Well…no…but we need to follow them,” Flynn said, walking to the street anyway.

Stone and Ezekiel followed after him. “I can’t exactly call a car, so what do you intend to do?” Ezekiel asked.

“I don’t know yet-” Flynn started, cutting himself off as they rounded the corner of the building.

A commercial van was parked down the road, complete with not so nice looking muscle, including the one who had attacked them earlier. Apparently they were not happy with the attacker’s poor job of containing the Librarians; a more imposing man was berating him, based on body language, but they were too far away to hear what was being said. Someone in the van must have said something to draw the larger man’s attention to inside the vehicle for a moment. He then looked back at the attacker, said some final comment, then got into the passenger seat while the attacker fumbled with the back door of the van and climbed in.

Flynn looked behind himself at Ezekiel. “You can hotwire a car, right?”

“Uh, duh, of course I can,” Ezekiel said in a mocking tone, as the van started to drive off. Ezekiel immediately went for the closest car, trying the handle.

“I don’t think we should…” Stone started, but Ezekiel was already behind the wheel of the conveniently unlocked car, fiddling with wires.

“No time Stone, this is our only shot,” Flynn explained, getting in the passenger seat. “Plus, we’ll return it, we’re not horrible people. Come on, get in!” With a huff, Stone got in the back seat, and the trio sped off after the van.

Turns out Ezekiel driving is a terrifying experience. Oh sure, they caught up to the van alright, following it straight to an industrial park in a not so safe part of Buenos Aires. They just happened to do it at horribly unsafe speeds in congested traffic, and somehow came out of it completely unscathed.

The worn down wearhouse wasn’t heavily guarded. Besides the van that just arrived, only two other people in the facility. Being the sneaky thief he was, Ezekiel got them in a locked back door. Being a good distraction, Flynn spooked the muscle, did some running, while Stone and Ezekiel found their stash and searched for anything magical. On a hunch, Stone picked the likely objects and had Ezekiel get them all out while he assisted Flynn in distracting (it involved getting revenge for being sedated with a lot of painful moves he picked up in Shangri-La, and some good old punching). With another stomach churning drive a la Ezekiel, the trio returned the car to its spot on the street outside the museum. Transporting the items proved mildly difficult, making Stone the packhorse so they didn’t have to make multiple trips.

Once they returned to the Annex, thankfully still empty, Stone carefully placed the various sculptures, old tools, and earthenware down on the ever-cluttered main table. Flynn and Ezekiel placed their items down as well.

“So…which one is it?” Ezekiel said, looking at the table with eyebrows raised.

“I’m not sure, but it won’t take me long to find out,” Flynn said, already starting to look over the nearest item, a little painted pot.

Stone was completely ignoring the mass of artifacts on the table, his eyes solely on Ezekiel. The thief had been a bit on edge after Stone and Flynn jumped in the car. Though he’d been hiding it well, Stone learned how to pick it up. He walked over to Ezekiel, tapping him on the elbow to get his attention, then nodded towards the doors that led off into the other parts of the Library.

“I’m gonna clean up,” Stone announced, heading out the doors. “You probably should too, Ezekiel, just to be safe.”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Ezekiel said, attempting to not be too fussed about the somewhat battered state of his body, but he dropped it once he saw that Flynn was solely focused on the items in front of him.

Stone waited until they got to the bathroom before he said anything. “How ya holdin’ up?”

Ezekiel glanced at him in the mirror as he washed the cuts on his face. “Oh, could be worse. No breakdown or anything. They, uh, knew me, or my old reputation anyway. Got cocky when they ‘captured’ me, being overly forceful, but that also meant I lifted the cuff keys off them easy.”

“How rough?” Stone asked, putting antibiotic cream on the scrapes he got from the first fight.

Ezekiel shrugged, a tell he was trying to keep it together. “They had their fun. It worked out in the end, that’s what matters.” Stone eyed him, waiting for him to open up. Ezekiel caught Stone’s eyes, and after a few moments he half sighed in defeat, hissing a bit when pain flared up. “They might have kicked me a few times in the side, or slammed me against something, while I was out. That’s what hurts most.”

“Okay. Shirt off then,” Stone said. Ezekiel gawked at him a bit. “I’m not gonna let ya have a broken rib heal wrong because you didn’t think it was important to tell me.”

“Fine. Don’t go getting any ideas, cowboy,” Ezekiel teased, trying to joke. He pulled his shirt over his head fairly gingerly, turning to see the side that hurt in the mirror. A bruise was forming at his bottom rib, about the size of his hand. “Oh…”

“Yeah, that’s not a thing to hide,” Stone said, lightly touching the skin above the bruise. Ezekiel hissed in pain, but didn’t say anything while Stone surveyed the injury.

“I wasn’t trying to hide it. I just didn’t feel it for awhile,” Ezekiel explained. He gave a little bitter chuckle that almost turned into a sob. “Perks of going into combat mode I guess.”

“Well I don’t think it’s broken, just bruised. Definitely should ice it though, and take some painkillers if it’s botherin’ you,” Stone decided, still keeping a watchful eye on Ezekiel. “Anythin’ ya need to talk about?”

Ezekiel inhaled slowly, biting his lip. Stone waited patiently, for him to speak. “When I first woke up, and you and Flynn weren’t there…for a second I thought they killed you-” Ezekiel’s voice faltered.

Stone’s hand went to the side of Ezekiel’s face on impulse. “Hey, it’s alright, I’m here, alive,” Stone soothed.

Ezekiel’s eyes widened a bit, his breath catching in his throat. Without warning he flung himself at Stone, hissing at the contact but hugging him tightly. Stone made sure to avoid his tender side, using that arm to stroke the back of Ezekiel’s head. Stone felt his neck grow wet, but Ezekiel made no noise, and was probably trying not to breathe too erratically.

“I know…it’s just the ptsd, but it…really sucks,” Ezekiel said into the crook of Stone’s neck.

“You made it through, that’s what matters. And we got the artifact, probably,” Stone said.

Ezekiel savored the hug a bit more then pulled away, not quite releasing his grip on Stone. “Why’d you two look so startled when I found you?”

Stone looked away, face flushing of its own accord. “We were, uh, talking, about a lot of things,” he mumbled.

“Did you tell him…that’s why he looked guilty,” Ezekiel said rather calmly, realization on his face.

Stone had been expecting him to be mad about talking about it; he met Ezekiel’s gaze with mild surprise. “It kinda slipped, after I woke up and you weren’t there I was worried.”

Ezekiel smiled at him endearingly. “You did tell him that I didn’t blame him for the werewolf thing, that I did it on my own.”

“Yeah, doesn’t mean he can’t feel bad though,” Stone replied. “You’re not mad I told him?”

The thief glanced away for a moment, thinking, before looking back to Stone. “I thought I would be, but I dunno, he didn’t treat me any different, which was what I was afraid of in the first place.”

“He cares a lot, ya know, they all do,” Stone said. It wasn’t the first time he’d said that to Ezekiel, but now it felt a little different, more like “here’s proof they’ll love you just the same.”

Ezekiel touched his forehead to Stone’s…not something he’d done before. “One person at a time, but hey, I’m getting there apparently.”

Stone chuckled at him, but stayed fairly still, letting Ezekiel be in control of the situation. For awhile they just stayed there, looking into each other’s eyes, the strong scent of the antibiotic ointment on Ezekiel’s cuts pungent, the soft sound of their forcefully steadied breathing, the background hum of the Library from whatever did that filling everything else. Then, after what felt like years debating if he should or not in his head, Ezekiel closed the distance between them.

Five minutes earlier…

Flynn barely registered them walking off. There were a lot of items to check on the table in front of him…and he had no clue what exactly he was looking for. Since it would take hours to search the Library’s information to find anything useful, he decided to just do it by feel.

“Old-fashioned way’s gonna have to work,” he said aloud, grabbing the next item, a small sculpture of a warrior. “Any object imbued with magic has a special feel, the magic that it gives off naturally like an odor.” He put the statue back down, unsatisfied, and reached for a pot. “If you know to look for it, you can pick it out, even if you don’t know what type of magic exactly. Of course over the past decade I’ve handled loads of magical objects, so I should be able to pick up on it easily.”

The pot didn’t do anything for him either, so he sat it back down and reached for the stone hilt of a dagger that someone had stuck in a pot to carry. Only then did he look up to see that he was not informing anyone. “I guess Stone was talking about going somewhere then. Oh well-” Flynn sucked in a breath when he pulled the dagger out of the pot. The hilt was a smooth, grey stone, but the blade was sharpened obsidian. “Well hello there, magical dagger with probably not great to think about properties. You need to come with me.” He looked to the pile of artifacts on the table, most untouched. “As for the rest of you, you’re free to go today. I’ll be right back.”

Flynn took the dagger to the first magical artifacts wing to find a spot for it. Sure, there was the whole new modern artifacts wing, but this wasn’t modern at all; though Stone could date it better by looking at it, Flynn guessed it had to be several hundred years old easily. Eventually he found a little nook just wide enough for the dagger to lay diagonally.

By now Flynn remembered the dirt and grime on his face and decided to go clean it off. Going to the artifacts wing actually put him closer to the bathroom than he was from the Annex. Something in the back of his mind told him that Stone and Ezekiel had gone there earlier, so he figured they were probably on their way back to the Annex now.

Flynn found out quite quickly that they had not left yet. His voice didn’t work at first, but after a second he managed an “Oh…”

Ezekiel pulled away much more violently than Stone did. “Uh, didn’t mean to hog the bathroom,” Stone said, voice a bit rougher than it had been just a moment ago.

“No it’s fine,” Flynn responded automatically, awkwardly blocking the doorway. A glance to the mirror explained why Ezekiel wasn’t wearing a shirt. Ezekiel swiped at his eyes, attempting to get his back against the wall it seemed. The sight twinged something in Flynn’s chest. “I’m…I’m really sorry.”

Ezekiel looked at him, his body language more defensive than he actually felt, not that Flynn knew how to read that. “You didn’t know, it’s fine,” Ezekiel mumbled.

“I know, but it wasn’t… I could’ve been a lot better, more understanding, more here. Um, I just wanted to say…I, well, you don’t have to be alone. I mean I know you have Stone, but I…I’m here for you too,” Flynn stammered, not really sure where he was going.

Relaxing slightly, Ezekiel forced himself off the wall. He was a little bit in shock, not that he hadn’t believed Stone earlier, but actually hearing Flynn say it was a whole different thing.

Flynn was apparently not done rambling. “I had an epiphany of sorts, realizing just how much I’d closed everyone off, though I didn’t get much of a chance to do anything about it till after you guys took down Apep. It wasn’t fair to any of you, but you all stuck around anyway, and I can’t thank you enough for that.” He started getting more animated, walking into the bathroom not really suited for three grown men, which put him quite close to Ezekiel. “And you, you went through a lot for all of us, and we didn’t even know how much you hurt, both before you joined the Library and after you saved them. I know you’re good at hiding it, but I’ll still kick myself for a long time because I wasn’t around long enough to learn how you express how you feel, and completely missed it at the super collider…”

Ezekiel had started crying again, not really of his own accord, mostly it was just a lot to process the words coming out of Flynn’s mouth. “Flynn…”

“…And knowing that me putting myself in harm’s way gave you nightmares, not that I had much of a choice, it…I’m so sorry…” Flynn paused, holding the side of Ezekiel’s face like Stone had earlier. Ezekiel’s eyes went wide, first at Flynn then at Stone. Flynn followed Ezekiel’s look, giving his own “should I?” look to Stone.

“It’s your call, you tell him,” Stone said with a shrug.

Flynn looked back to Ezekiel. “I care a lot, for you…though it might not have seemed like it. I didn’t want to say anything, I didn’t know how you…felt…which again was my fault for not being around enough to actually, really get to know you…or the others. Um, heh, I guess what I’m trying to say is…I don’t want you to be alone, not when I…we’re around-”

Ezekiel cut off Flynn’s rambling with a kiss. Stone had to restrain himself from laughing at Flynn’s shocked face. After listening to flynn ramble twice, it was a pretty satisfying sight to see. Once they pulled apart, Ezekiel looked pretty pleased with himself as he took in Flynn’s dazed face.

“So, you guys actually were having a heart to heart in the closet,” Ezekiel said with a satisfied laugh. Stone shrugged. “I mean it’s not like you were doing anything else in there…you weren’t, right?”

Flynn glanced over at Stone, finally out of his daze. “Should we tell him about all the wild, passionate lovemaking we did?” he suggested, somehow completely with a straight face.

Stone wasn’t so good at keeping a straight face, partially for the images that popped up in his head. “Oh yeah…uh, definitely wild for sure,” he tried to say normally, but his voice didn’t cooperate.

Before he could respond, Ezekiel’s stomach growled loudly. Stone and Flynn looked at him, mildly surprised by the volume. “What, it’s been awhile since breakfast,” Ezekiel said. “While watching you two do…whatever it is you’re doing is hilarious, I’m starving.”

“Food sounds good…though I think most restaurants have a required shirt and shoe policy,” Flynn said, not really being subtle about where his eyes were wandering. Ezekiel caught it, cheeks getting a little red.

“Yeah…well I’d rather eat with someone who didn’t look like he used his face to clean the floor,” Ezekiel quipped back, at little weaker than he intended. Flynn raised his eyebrows at him before he glanced at himself in the mirror.

“Oh, yeah, that’s what I was coming here for, to fix that,” Flynn said, moving to the sink. “Okay so once we get cleaned up, then we go eat.”

“Works for me,” Stone replied, hooking his arm around Ezekiel’s. “Come on, let’s go get you a shirt that’s easier to put on.”

“Don’t have too much fun without me,” Flynn shouted from the bathroom as they left.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Ezekiel replied, smirking at Stone as they walked into the Library. It wasn’t a day any of them had anticipated, but none of them would have traded it for the world.

—–

Post notes: Basically expect any fic involving Ezekiel in the canon universe to involve his ptsd from now on if it works in the story. Apparently I can’t get the theory out of my head or my writing.