i hope y'all enjoy the last chapter. i tried to keep everybody as in character as possible, but heightened emotional situations kind of led themselves to out of character behavior, it's human nature, so i hope it ended up working out well.

let me know what you think!

we've thought too much, said nothing
we've heard it all, there's nothing new
we've seen the way to our undoing
and the way to yours as well
- electric president, "ten thousand lines"

Once the worst of Ezekiel's probably-a-panic-attack has died down, every sound of the otherwise fairly quiet room is amplified times a thousand. It's a pretty nice room, the one he's overtaken since the Library was returned to its rightful place. The couch folds out into a nice enough bed, sheets hidden under couch cushions during the day. Belongings could be stored inconspicuously in places not immediately obvious to anyone who might wander in.

(To be completely honest, Ezekiel has a suspicion the Library may have made it just for him, may not allow anyone to find it if he didn't want them to. Then again, that's silly, right? That the Library might be looking out for him, might be giving him a place he could feel safe. He still has his apartment, but more and more, this is where he stays. This is where he gets the best sleep he can ever remember getting.)

Now that the panic has subsided, that the shock of fear and anguish that seeing Adam again had brought on has ebbed, Ezekiel is left wondering what he's supposed to do now. There's no way things can go back to normal after this, after the way Adam had taken a sledgehammer to the image he has so carefully built up. Those people, the ones Ezekiel, in the part of his heart he won't ever speak of to anyone, wants so badly to impress and make like him, make want to keep him, they know things now they can't come back from knowing. He doesn't know that they can ever look at him the same way, ever talk to him like they had never met Adam, found out about the part of his life Ezekiel would most like to forget.

Ezekiel sits on the couch and lets his head fall into his hands. He can hear his own breath, rasping in the empty air. All his focus is on the section of carpet between his shoes as he contemplates what they must think of him now. What a stupid, naive, gullible kid he was, how easily fooled he'd been. What ifs fly around his mind at lightning speed.

What if they think he's using them, that he's a fraud and a liar?

What if they take Adam's side?

What if they think it was his fault?

He stares at the carpet and the words run on a loop. What do I do? What do I do? What do I do?

Round about the tenth repetition of that answerless question, a knock on the door startles Ezekiel out of the loop and back into the present. He sits and watches the door for several moments, excruciatingly aware of his own erratic breathing. He half expects the door to swing right open - he'd forgotten to lock it today. It doesn't, for long enough that Ezekiel frowns and calls out, "Hello?"

"It's Eve," a voice answers. "I'm here with Jacob and Cassandra. Can we come in?"

This is it, Ezekiel thinks. This is when it ends. "Sure."

Eve opens the door and walks in, then stops to take stock of the situation. Ezekiel… doesn't look good. He's sitting on a couch, posture hunched and defensive. His eyes are unfathomable, staring at a section of the wall near the door rather than look at any of them. Eve has had a considerable amount of experience reading body language, and right now, everything in Ezekiel's is reading like a wounded animal, afraid and in pain, bracing to be attacked again. These last few hours in particular, Eve has been exceedingly aware - more even than she usually is, even as she never really forgets it - of exactly how young Ezekiel is. He's strong and capable, more than able to take care of himself, and she genuinely bears a great deal of respect for him. But he is, nonetheless, incredibly young.

Of course, that thought leads to another, much worse one. Ezekiel is young. But, when Adam knew him? He'd been so much younger. He'd been a child.

For a hair of a moment, uncharacteristic of Eve in its fanciful wishfulness, she imagines being able to go back and fix that. To get him out before Adam had the chance to hurt him. Then again, if what Adam said was to be believed, and Eve has a sinking suspicion it was for the most part true, the damage began long before that. It makes her ill to think of.

Eve quickly comes to the conclusion that this is going to be one of the most important conversations she's ever had. Maybe not fate of the world important, but fate of her world important. These people, this place, they're becoming her world faster than she can keep track of, and it takes Eve's breath away. She gives herself a moment to catch it again, then sits down on the couch next to him. It's hard, in a situation like this, to figure out what to say. But nothing ever happens until it starts, so there's nothing else for it except to take a leap and hope the ground she lands on doesn't crumble.

"Hey Ezekiel." Okay, so, not the most eloquent start. Ezekiel, though, not Jones, that much is solid. All Eve can hear right now when she thinks of her youngest charge's last name is the way Adam Bennet's voice sounded, sneering it. This entire time, Adam never once called him by his first name, and even though it's small and superficial, Eve can't help but take any small step she can to distance herself from him. To say to Ezekiel I'm not Adam. I won't ever do to you what he did. "How are you holding up?"

"Holding up?" Ezekiel scoffs in a ghost of his usual easy drawl, but out of deference to his pride, no one gives such away. "I'm fine."

"I find that hard to believe." The challenge is as firm as it is kind. "You were tortured. People don't just walk away from that."

Cassandra, sitting in an armchair, and Jacob, leaning against the side of it, watch the way Ezekiel's face shifts and reacts to what Eve has said, and keep quiet. For now, it's best to let Eve handle things. They'll step in when they're needed.

"Tortured?" repeats Ezekiel like he can't believe what he's hearing. His voice wavers just a hair, though, and the look in his eyes is raw. "I wasn't tortured. C'mon. He didn't… I wasn't tortured."

"What that man did to you," Eve tells him, maintaining that same soft intensity, "was cruel, heartless, and without humanity." Ezekiel's shoulders give the slightest jerk, the only visible indication of how quickly he is losing control of his composure. "You were tortured, Ezekiel, and I am so, so sorry it took us so long to put a stop to it."

Now Ezekiel's eyes are shining, bright and wet, as he stares at that same patch of wall. Eve swallows, hand twitching a bit in her lap. She scoots a little closer to him and clears her throat.

"Ezekiel," she says, and all the push has gone from her voice. All that's left is the warmth. The depth of care she holds to avoid hurting the person she's speaking to. "Is it alright if I touch you?"

At that he does look at her, face confused around unshed tears. He shrugs one shoulder and says, "Yeah."

"You can say no," she clarifies, and Ezekiel's weird look gets weirder. "You've had enough of other people deciding what happens to you today. I…" Glancing over to the armchair, Eve's silent question draws twin nods from Cassandra and Jacob. "We would like to hug you, but only if you're okay with it."

Several silent moments pass before Ezekiel dashes a wrist quickly over his eyes and looks away again. When he speaks, it isn't with his usual voice, brash and sure of himself. This time, Ezekiel sounds almost shy. "Yeah. Yeah, it's okay."

Eve moves first, and she moves slowly. She wraps an arm around him, not pulling but rather allowing him to, at his own pace, lean into her. His forehead comes to rest against the connection of Eve's neck and shoulder, and she can feel him shaking under her touch. Cassandra and Jacob move after a pause. Cassandra sits down behind Ezekiel on the couch, leaning forward and curling her arms around his waist. Her cheek rests against his back, and she can feel his labored breathing. For his part, Jacob circles around behind the couch, once again leaning on the furniture the others are sitting on. He reaches over them to lay a hand on the back of Ezekiel's neck, fingers lightly brushing his dark hair. Jacob's thumb skims slowly back and forth, a repetitive motion and light pressure he hopes is comforting.

Ezekiel is surprised he doesn't feel suffocated, sitting there in their embrace. What he feels instead is sheltered. Shielded and protected, with their arms around him, able to smell Eve's shampoo, feel the weight of Cassandra's head resting between his shoulder blades and the callouses on Jacob's palm. Right now, Adam has never felt farther away. Like less of a threat.

"I'm-" tries Ezekiel, barely able to scrape the word out through lungs that feel restricted by embarrassment, guilt at putting them all in this situation. "I'm sorry."

"Hey." This time it's Jacob that speaks. His voice sounds harsh enough, angry enough, that Ezekiel can't help the strong flinch it elicits. Jacobs softens instantly, repeating more quietly, "Hey. None of that, okay? You did nothing wrong. Nothing."

"I stayed." Ezekiel's words are barely a breath, a puff of air. He doesn't for the life of him know why he's pushing the envelope right now, trying to make them mad at him. Make them admit what they really think rather than this ruse, far too gentle and kind to last. "I could've got away. I could have left and I stayed."

"I stayed with my dad," is what Jacob says in response. "My whole life. I could have left a hundred different times, but I stayed. If Eve hadn't come to get me from that bar that day… I would still be there. Leaving… it's not as easy as people make it sound. And that guy made it as hard on you as he could. The things he said, the things he did, he made it hard."

"And he was wrong, y'know," Cassandra chimes in, giving him a little squeeze. "You're not bad, not any of the things he said. We think you're good, Zeke. And we do love you."

"Cassandra is right," says Eve's voice from somewhere over his head, followed shortly by Jacob.

"We do."

What, might love you? Of course they don't.

Adam's voice, for the millionth time since he was sixteen years old, springs abruptly into Ezekiel's mind. This time though, after the jolt of fear it always brings, comes something else.

Yes, he thinks fiercely, squeezing his eyes tight shut and focusing on the awareness of his… his friends, around him. Yes, they do. I can't figure out why or how, or when they might give up and leave, but they do.

Flynn Carsen has an established habit of doing things in a way he thinks is casual but in actuality tend to land way West of that. Like now, sauntering in and reclining against a bookshelf at the edge of Ezekiel's vision. For a while the thief is content to let Flynn believe he's succeeding, until it gets just a little too pathetic to bear.

"Lurk much, mate?" Ezekiel says, not looking up from his phone. He's feeling more normal now, less like Adam had gutted him and left him hollow, but Flynn's presence makes him nervous. Everyone else has already been to talk to him, to clear the air and set things straight. Not Flynn, though. He's kept his distance. Until now.

Instead of responding to Ezekiel's sort-of-greeting, Flynn walks over to stand next to the table and says the last thing Ezekiel was ever expecting him to say.

"I'm sorry."

"Excuse me." The response is instant, kneejerk, and completely without thought. "Who are you and what have you done with Flynn Carsen?"

Again, Flynn ignores the joke and goes right for the jugular. "I'm sorry I didn't help you, Ezekiel. When we first met."

Ezekiel frowns. "Dunno what you mean."

Sighing, Flynn stuffs his hands into his pockets, and leans against the table. "I was doing some math, and the gala, the night we first met, it was… It was years ago, but I remember. I thought you just looked young, but…" He shakes his head, looks embarrassed of himself. Looks troubled, as well, in a way Ezekiel can't fathom. "You were a teenager. Sixteen, seventeen maybe. It was during your time with MI6, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," confirms Ezekiel, nodding and looking down at the game on his phone again. "It was."

"So," Flynn says, half word, half sigh. "Like I said. You were a teenager, and you were in trouble. I should've seen it, I could've seen it. I should've helped you. I'm so sorry I didn't."

Completely at a loss for how to respond to that, Ezekiel just shrugs. "If you'd asked me, I wouldn't've said I needed help. I would've said he…" The name can't remain a spectre forever, a demon dogging his steps, so he forces himself to say it. "I would have said Adam Bennet was the best thing that ever happened to me."

A long silence overtakes the room. Ezekiel looks at his phone but doesn't continue his game, while Flynn looks at nothing in particular, until the youngest Librarian takes a risk by breaking the silence, admitting something that makes him vulnerable in a way he's sure he'd never have done before.

"It's funny," Ezekiel says in a tone suggesting nothing is funny at all. "I know he's gone. I know Adam is going away for a long time. Kidnapping, assault, et cetera, Eve already filled me in on what's gonna happen to him now. But I still don't… I don't think I'll ever be safe. Not completely, not with him still out there somewhere."

Flynn sighs, pushing off from the table and opening his arms. "Come here, kid," he says, beckoning with outstretched hands.

For the second time in recent memory, Ezekiel finds himself wrapped in a tight hug.

"I don't know how much this is gonna do, too little too late and all," Flynn says as Ezekiel is mid-contemplating how Flynn is actually a pretty good hugger. "But if that man ever comes near you again, I will kill him myself."

Flynn's voice is quiet and far more serious than meshes with his happy go lucky, jovial personality. It is, in a way that would make Ezekiel worry he was a bad person if he hadn't already given up on that years ago, the most reassuring thing he could've said.

After a pause, Ezekiel asks a one word question, slightly muffled by the fabric of Flynn's sweater vest. "...Promise?"

"I promise."

It's a time of firsts, Ezekiel supposes, as he takes a risk, and puts his faith in Flynn, accepting what he's said at face value. "Okay."