Title is from Walt Whitman's Song of Myself: "I understand the large hearts of heroes, / The courage of present times and all times."
Laney was eating lunch when Grey slid onto the bench next to her. To her surprise, he didn't have a book in his hands.
"Something wrong, pip?" she asked, finishing up her fries.
"I want to try something," Grey declared. "Give me your hand."
Laney raised a bemused eyebrow and held out one of her hands to Grey. He wrapped both hands around her wrist and closed his eyes. Laney watched as his hands began to glow. For a moment, there was a tingling sensation in her arm, then Grey opened his eyes and let go.
"Now the other one," he declared.
"What did you just do, exactly?" Laney asked before she offered her other arm.
"I've been reading up on human muscular anatomy," Grey explained. "Did you know there are more than thirty muscles in the hand and wrist? And there are nine in the thumb alone, and-" Grey reined himself in with obvious effort. "Anyway, I was looking into muscle damage specifically, and how to fix it with magic."
Laney blinked and looked down at her hand. "Do you mean…"
"I can't promise anything," Grey added quickly. "This is just an experiment. But I think I've got the theory down, so it should help, at least."
Laney held out her other hand. "Do this one."
Grey took Laney's wrist in his glowing hands and closed his eyes. Just the same as last time, Laney felt a tingling in her arm, then Grey let go.
"I don't know if it'll work, but…" Grey held out one of Laney's guns. "I'm pretty sure the shooting range is empty." Laney looked down at the proffered gun, then took it slowly. "I'll be the library," Grey added. "Tell me how it goes." He stole the last fry off Laney's plate, ducked under her teasing swing, and left.
Laney looked down at the gun in her hand for a long moment. Then she picked up her plate, brought it back to the kitchen, and left, heading for the shooting range. If it was empty, like Grey said, Laney thought it was time to practice her marksmanship again.
She knew as she approached the shooting range that there was no one there. She would have heard the sharp retorts of gunfire if there were. Sure enough, when she slipped through the doors, it was empty. Laney bolted the door and stepped up to the first target. She took a deep breath, then raised her gun and emptied it into the target. It was only after she set the gun down and approached the target that her hands began to shake.
Grey hadn't promised a miracle, and Laney hadn't expected one. None of her shots hit the bullseye. But he'd said it would help, and he was right. All of the bullets except one had hit the innermost ring.
It was nothing compared to how Laney used to be able to shoot before Gravestown. But compared to how she'd shot in the months since, it was everything.
Slowly, Laney picked up her gun and left the shooting range. She dropped by her room to put the gun back - Grey must have stolen it out of her desk - and then went to the library.
She found Grey tucked away in a corner, chewing absentmindedly on a pen and arranging a bookshelf in whatever strange system he had. Laney walked right up to him and grabbed him from behind in a tight hug. Grey yelped and flailed for a moment before he recognized the arms wrapped around his middle.
"So it helped?" he asked dryly.
"Yeah," Laney agreed. "It helped." She let Grey go and he turned around to face her, looking pleased with himself. "Thank you."
"It gave me an excuse to read up on anatomy," Grey replied with a shrug.
Laney snorted. "As if you need an excuse, pip."
"It's really a fascinating field," Grey added. "The books are two bookcases over, on the second and third shelves from the bottom. At least, those are the ones specializing on the anatomy of the hands and arms. Most of the bookcase is full of books on anatomy in general. I'd suggest-"
"I'm not going to check out a book on anatomy, Grey," Laney said in a deadpan voice.
Grey huffed. "If you're not here to get out a book, then get out my library, you heathen," he retorted in his best blue-blooded aristocrat voice, which sounded an awful lot like the old Headmaster.
Laney laughed. "See you later, then," she told Grey, ruffling his hair, and she stepped out of the library into the sun.
