.
It had taken a little bit longer than Moe would have liked, but he finally got all components in and put together for Rose's laptop. That was the reason for this visit. Rose had been sheltered a lot growing up and hadn't even known how to work an email. Working her own computer was a bit more involved, and he was there to instruct her. Call it a first lesson.
With the confidence of knowing what he was doing, Moe was not his usual jittery, anxious self when he raised his fist and rapped his knuckles on the door of her dorm room. Rose was a girl, but this was tech-geek stuff, and with that, he was king. Plus, Rose wasn't just a girl anymore. She was a friend. A girl-slash-friend.
Rose was on her way to the door when she heard the knock. A pile of books towered in her arms all the way up to her neck, and she had to lean back slightly, securing the volumes with her chin, so she could free one hand and twist the knob.
"Oh, hello," she said when the door revealed Moe on the other end, greeting him with a small smile. One look at the things he was carrying was enough to clue her in – he'd come, as promised, to help her set up the laptop. "You're sort of catching me at a bad time," Rose said apologetically, leaning a bit to the right as the book tower swayed dangerously. "I really need to return these before the day is out, and the Library closes in half an hour." Her eyes darted back inside, then to him. Would he be comfortable waiting alone in her room? Or would that be asking too much? "Erm… or you could… come with me? If you want? You can leave the stuff here, it won't take long." A bit of hope snuck into her voice – in her desire to solve the riddle that was her dream, she had checked out way too many books, mostly scientific journals and psychological theories, and those tended to be rather thick.
When Rose opened the door with the books piled high in her arms, Moe was momentarily surprised and was slow to register her greeting. "Uh hrm. Yeah," he mumbled, partially reaching for her and the books in an automatic chivalrous reflex to assist with her load. But he too had his own load, making his actions useless and unhelpful, so Moe stopped halfway and stepped aside. "Sure. Uh. I'll just." He motioned toward her dorm with his computer-filled hand to indicate he would set the stuff down. All she needed to do was move out of the way. Moe still wasn't easy with the touching if it wasn't necessary thing.
With a grateful smile, the princess took a few steps to the side, dragging the door with her shoulder. "Thank you. You can leave it on the desk."
Rose's desk was usually organized and tidy, which meant that it was mostly bare. Her erasers, sharpeners, paper clamps and other knick-knacks were set in sections for easy finding in the top drawer, and all the notebooks and textbooks not is use were arranged in the drawers or in her school bag. Said bag was, at present, situated in the blue armchair, already prepared for tomorrow's classes, only missing the stack of finished homework that lay in a neat pile on the right side of the desk, next to a small white vase containing a few snowdrops. All of her pens, markers and pencils were in a case, also currently on the right-hand side, and she made a mental note to put it back in her bag as soon as she got back so she wouldn't end up like that girl in Elvish who constantly lost her pens and kept bugging Curly for his. The only other things on the desk top were a stack of pink post-it notes, a tall desk lamp and an unfortunately swan-shaped tape dispenser. Rose hated it, but it was a gift from her father, and, being the practical person she was, the princess felt like she ought to make use of it. She just tried not to look at it, even when she had to.
It was a little weird to be stepping into Rose's room and the strangeness was not only because Rose was a girl. Actually, her room was surprisingly not as girly and frilly as he had imagined. Not that Moe imagined what Rose's room would look like or anything perv-worthy like that, because Moe wasn't a perve. At least not more perverted than the typical magical teen, or non-magical teen for that matter.Err...
Moe cleared his throat and stopped looking around at Rose's stuff as he set the lap top on her desk. But he still felt awkward about it, and it showed when his big clog for a foot tripped over an invisible something on the floor. It wasn't a huge trip, Moses was able to catch himself and keep on out the door, but he was embarrassed enough by his thoughts alone that the trip managed to color his face red.
Once out the dorm, Moses cleared his throat again and reached for the books in her arm. "Here. Let me." Moses didn't take all the books from her, didn't want to offend her feminism, but took off most of them because he was bigger and she was smaller, and she couldn't see around them, and his mom taught him better than to let a girl struggle if he could help her. "Lot of books," he commented and then after a beat, awkwardly asked, "So you like blue?" Not just blue but baby blue, by the looks of the room.
Trying to keep the books from tumbling to the ground, Rose was mostly preoccupied with keeping them balanced rather than following Moe's movements, but her eyes did snap in his direction when she heard him fumble about. Seeing the blush on his face, she kept her concerned comment of 'Are you okay?' in and pretended not to notice, clearly seeing that he was unhurt and not wanting to embarrass him further.
When he offered to lighten her load, she readily helped him take some of the books. "Thanks, I could hardly walk with a stack this tall," she said, giving him another small, grateful smile. There was just something about being offered help like this by someone who wasn't a servant, wasn't obliged to help her. It wasn't something that happened to her a lot, and she couldn't help but feel a warm wave of gratitude towards him. Then she reached into the pocket of her knee-length green circle skirt and pulled out her key, locking her dorm behind them.
"I like light colours," Rose said as they started down the corridor. "If I had to pick a favourite though, it would probably be pink." Then she looked down at the smaller pile in her arms, thinking about his observation. She really might have gone a bit overboard. "Yeah, I… I wanted to be thorough. They're, erm… dream theories. Before Larry suggested it might be magical in nature, I thought it was psychological. The nightmare, I mean. The one that kept… repeating." She looked away. Rose didn't know how much Larry had told the others about it, or if Curly had shared the little bits he had practically pulled out of her by force, but they had probably told Moe the basics. Just remembering it made her want to shiver, though she held herself from doing so and looked to him instead, trying to seem more cheerful. "I'm sorry about making you take this detour; we won't be long. I just have to hand them over to the librarian, and we can head back. What sort of modifications did you make to the laptop? You mentioned before you were going to tinker with it."
Moe's fading blush from his stumble reinforced with her thanks. All the way up to his ears. He'd taken the books from her because she had too much in her arms. He'd helped her because it was the right thing to do. It didn't seem like an action that should have her thanks, or be acknowledged at all. He did it because he just did, and Moses didn't know how to take her appreciation so he just shifted the books—which were really not a burden to him like they had been for her—cleared his throat and nodded at her with a half-smile, half-grimace thing on his face.
Pink. Yup. That was exactly what he imagined to be her favorite color. Moses wasn't so stupid in the girl-knowledge department to define the gender by the color, but when it came to Rose, there always seemed to be an aura or halo of a soft, baby-pink. Like the color was just as soft and as sweet as Rose was. But it was also a color that intimidated him enough that he wouldn't have the balls to wear without some bizarre reason. Yup. Pink and Rose was pretty, but Moe and pink, not so much.
As she explained, awkwardly, about the reason for the books, Moses glanced down at the top book. The title was wonky, but in a quick glance he could see it was some hokey spiritual mumbo-jumbo book that wasn't on his queue. But that wasn't to say there weren't other Freudian dream books on there. Books that he'd downloaded after the whole catacombs catastrophe. Books that were also accompanied by several other new DL's on topics like Curses, Dark magic, and every little thing he could get about anything dealing with the subterranean section of the Academy. Something was down there. He knew it. Whatever it was, Moses was determined to find out. Still, the books were evidence of just how disturbed Rose was about these dreams she'd been having.
Her worry bothered him enough that when she asked about the modifications he'd made to her laptop, Moses politely brushed it aside with a, "It's easier to understand if I can show you." He wasn't trying to be rude or condescend her intelligence. On the contrary. But considering how much of a computer geek the wish-granter was, it was saying something that he didn't go all into it. To him, Rose's worry was more important than his geek-freak computer kingdom. "A-are you still dreaming? I mean after...everything they haven't... g-g-gone away?" Fucking stutter. Moses was actually getting angry with whatever magic was screwing with Rose, but only the frown between his brows indicated the appropriate distress. The fumbling of his words just made him sound like a pathetic douchebag, in his opinion. This time when he flushed scarlet, it was for his almost instant irritation.
Whoever that woman that was messing with Rose was, she was in for it. There was no way he, Larry, and Curly were just going to let her get away with the trouble she was causing. Fuck no. Sometimes-frightening-girl-ness aside, Rose was his friend. She was all of their friend. And they protected their friends.
He probably had a point that it was easier to explain the computer stuff when they got back. She most likely wouldn't understand if he tried to just tell her about, considering how illiterate she was on the subject and that she barely understood a big chunk of modern slang as it was. Why did computers have to be so complicated and alien? Why couldn't they be easy, like internal combustion engines?
"Ah, no, they're gone now," Rose reassured him, trying not to think about the Catacombs. "You have no idea how much of a relief it is to be able to sleep again. I almost forgot how it felt." She smiled a little at that and looked down at her load. A lot of these were actually very interesting. "I think I had them for a few weeks or so before I decided to start checking books out. I even took a few home to re-read over the holidays." Rose went over the list of books mentally, trying to make sure she hadn't forgotten a volume somewhere in her room, or worse, Oloria, and her eyes lit up when she remembered a specific one she had checked out for the second time — Jungian Dream Interpretation: A Handbook of Theory and Practice — which was currently in the middle of her stack. "Actually, I was reading this one when I first met Larry!" The princess tried to shuffle the books around so Moe could see the title, and as a result didn't pay attention to where she was going. Her foot caught on something, making her stagger, and the column of volumes, though significantly lessened, still leaned dangerously to the side. In an attempt to keep her balance without dropping anything, Rose tried to twist her body so her shoulder could find support in the wall, but to her surprise, the tapestry covering it gave way.
Rose gasped in surprise as she felt herself sinking into the hole in the wall, the books tumbling out of her hands when her fingers tried to grip the thick fabric. Not that it would help any – the tapestry itself loosened from whatever kept it up there and started falling from the wall.
A tension between his shoulders, that had been pulled tight probably since the catacombs but worsed only moments ago with the reminder of her dreams, relaxed when Rose promised the dreams were gone. It was a relief. It meant she was safe from whatever was underneath the school. For now.
Before Moe could dwell on that whispered dark thought, Rose was tumbling. He had seen her trip and made a jerky, useless move to help her, but kind of gave up halfway when he saw her reach for the wall. He'd expected the wall to catch her so there was no point in his dropping all his books to grab her if she wasn't going to fall. But then she was falling. Another, harder jerk, made of surprise, snapped him in her direction, forgetting the books. In his reach for her, they fell to the floor at his feet, some under, but he was slow to get to her. In that second he'd relaxed and expected the fucking wall to catch her, he had lost time and he couldn't stop her from falling in.
For a second, Rose was gone, and he thought he was going to fail her again. He hadn't been there when she'd fallen through the floor of the catacombs but that didn't stop images his own imagination conjured up and now, in a short span of a reach they flashed through his mind; he was going to lose her again. He was going to abandon her. Again! But then the wall hanging opened up and Moe could see her, gripping the cloth. With an extra little push, Moses got his arm around her waist and pulled. Except, he was an idiot. Moe managed to pull her against him but he, they, were still falling. He didn't have his feet under him. And then there was a rip and a scream/yelp—embarrassingly belonging to him—right before something solid stopped his progress with a painful smack to his face.
The heavy, suffocating textile of the dusty tapestry swallowed the young princess, submerging her in darkness. It was disorienting and hard to breathe, but she clung to the fabric, the only thing keeping her from falling. In an attempt to find air again, she twisted her body, trying to untangle herself from the heavy cloth, and managed to flip its folds to the side. For a split second she could see Moe reaching for her, and then felt his arm wrap around her waist. The momentum of his dive proved too much, however, and instead of him pulling her back, they both got swallowed up in the tapestry.
After a few very confused moments of squirming and struggling, they hit something hard. There was a flash of light from somewhere, then Rose felt Moe try to pull her closer to take the majority of the impact. She still felt every single bounce as they tumbled downwards, but of course, he ended up taking the bulk of it. And then, just like that, everything finally came to a stop.
Rose let out a soft groan and tried to get her bearings.
First thing she did was flip the stupid tapestry off and take a deep breath. It was still dark, but at least there was air. "Are you okay?" she asked, pulling herself up. She felt a little shaken, but other than that was mostly fine. "Moe?" she tried again when he didn't respond, her heart leaping up to her throat. Scrambling off him, her fingers clumsy with panic, the princess reached into the pocket of her skirt for her phone.
The white beam of the phone's flashlight shone on his face, and Rose saw, with a sharp pang of fear, that he was unconscious.
"No, no, no, no, no," she whispered, checking behind his head for blood. Please don't be hurt again! Her hand came up dry.
Shoulders sagging with relief, Rose finally directed her attention to their surroundings and shone the light around, trying to discern where they were. The room was spacious, rectangular, with shelves containing thick folders filling up the walls. There were no windows and no exits of any kind, barring a single doorway on the northern wall, which they must have come though, judging by the angle of their fall. Upon closer inspection though, such notions seemed impossible – the entryway was merely a frame, filled in by solid-looking brick. They couldn't have come through there… but then… where else had they fallen through? Her eyes immediately turned to the ceiling, though she knew the fall hadn't been from quite that high. What she found there was only an oddly shaped chandelier, spreading its many, iron tendrils above them like a giant, monstrous squid, its light bulbs cold and lifeless.
The beam travelled over the shelves once again, dropping to the worktables beneath them, and Rose noticed many and varying gadgets, gizmos, vials and numerous other contraptions she couldn't name upon them, along with scattered papers, quills, half-empty inkpots and what looked like faded blueprints. Not too far from where she was sitting next to the unconscious Moe, there was a bulky, old-looking computer, with the only chair in the room situated directly in front of it.
Rose tried push down on her quickly rising panic and think. First, they had to locate a source of light. Second, they had to find a way out. That chandelier must have a switch somewhere, and if they got in, that meant that they must logically be able to use the same route to leave. Okay. That was a plan. But before they could do any of that, they had to both be awake.
Rose looked back down to her friend. Her throat was too tight with panic for her to be yelling, and she couldn't bring herself to slap him, even lightly. "Moe, come on," she said, gently placing a hand on his cheek. "Can you hear me? Please, wake up. Wake up."
Moe groaned, his arm tightening reflexively around his girl-shaped pillow, while his mother told him to wake up. What? Mom? Oh man, if his mom was visiting, Moses was praying she brought some of her cookies. He missed her cookies so much. Last care package he received, Curly ate all his damned cookies. Moe nearly chewed his head off. Him mom's cookies were the best. Not even the Academy Chef could replicate them.
Cookies. Yes. His arm tightened again and in his dazed/dreaming state, Moe became aware of the girl-pillow, that wasn't a pillow but was definitely girl—all nice and soft and small in a different way than any pillow—and...Wait—girl? Girl! Moe's eyes snapped open, he sat up, smashed his head into the girl and, even in pain, backed the hell up from said girl, hand in the air, all in a matter of seconds before he even registered that he couldn't see much of anything, right away. "Sorry. Sorry. I didn't do-do-do-do an-an-a-a-a-anyth-th-thing" Big gulp. Back against the wall or desk or whatever solid mass was behind him, at his back, Moses North had his hands in the air like a victim of a stick up, his vision fuzzy and unfocused for a moment and yet wholly afraid the girl was going to kill him for doing something. Even though he couldn't remember what it was he had done—bad nightmares; embarrassing, stupid, frightening, mortifying nightmares of the female gender plagued the poor nerd—at least until the light from a temporarily unknown source illuminated nightmare-girl and showed Rose instead. "Oh. Rose."
Moe visibly sagged with relief though his hands remained up—force of habit around females and nightmares.
Then the pain and soreness hit him in his head and his ribs and deep in his gut. The one low in his gut was really the one that ached the most. He groaned again, one hand holding his head to keep his brain from punching through his skull. "What happe—Where are w—" Then it all came back and he suddenly realized why he hurt in certain places. "I need a minute." He moaned and pulled his knees up until he could set his spinning head on them.
A yelp escaped Rose when Moe suddenly shot up and collided with her, though she was bending over him, so, in hindsight, she should have seen it coming. For a moment, everything became confusing and disorienting again as dull pain short through her head, and by the time she could think again, Moe had scrambled backwards. "No, it's okay," she tried to reassure him, rubbing the sore spot.
At his question, Rose shone the light around again, rising to her feet. "I don't know," she replied. The princess turned her phone up to the ceiling again, looking for a clue as to how to turn the thing on. There were no exposed wires or cables connecting it to anything, and for all she knew it could be running on magic. "It kind of looks like… a laboratory." Turning her attention to the walls, Rose approached the sealed doorway. She raised a hand and placed it on the bricks. They felt… strangely warm. She pushed, lightly at first, then harder, but it would not give. The princess turned around, her eyes assessing the distance between the discarded tapestry and the doorway. It definitely seemed like they came through it, but why was it sealed now? How?
Then she heard Moe groan again and saw him curl up into a ball. Her attention effectively stolen, Rose was by him in two quick strides, kneeling at his side. "Are you going to be alright?" she asked. Moe wasn't a little boy, Rose knew that, and he didn't need coddling. But… a part of her wanted to, anyway. Maybe it had to do with the fact that he reminded her of a giant teddy bear.
Trying not to seem as overbearing and fussy as she felt, Rose shone the light up, illuminating the chandelier once again. "What do you think? Magic or technology?" Either way, this place had to have some sort of power source. Should they even bother looking for a light, or would it be better if they just started trying to find it?
In his pained state, Moe wasn't up to being curious enough to check things out as Rose was doing. As Rose returned to him but drew his attention to the light fixture above them-a massive chandelier he hadn't expected to find in anything labratory-ish-the pounding in his head rated down to a dulling ache. Well, at least she hadn't nailed him in the jewels again. He'd heard once that getting kicked in the balls was the same for a girl getting punched in the boob. Moses doubted it because boobs, well, they were higher and chesty and, though they did come in pairs, they still weren't balls-like. Melons. Balloons. Maybe, but...Oh God! Moe caught himself looking at Rose's girl-chest and wanted to burn his eyes out for it. Not because her breasts were ugly or unattractive or anything. No way! Not at all! But for looking. For being so stupid as to look. He'd seen what girls did to guys when they were caught staring at breasts. Calling them out. Punching them. Pantsings. Verbal and physical abuse, flirtations, and embarrassments. And those were the regular girls. The others were worse.
Moe shivered and forced his eyes to the ceiling. No boobs up there. Nope. None at all. Just tiles and wires and weird... Slowly, Moses North pulled himself to his feet, eyes and focus now 100% on the light fixture above them. "Oh man..." he murmured in awe. That's magi-tech! It has to be, he thought. But what's magi-tech doing in some forgotten lab in the wall? His eyes left the chandelier and tried to scan the rest of the room with the light Rose's phone provided but could hardly see, so instead, he raised his hand and snapped his fingers. Immediately, a light in his watch flicked on, ten times brighter than the cellphone's flash light and handier as Moses, without even looking, pressed a button and the light left his watch to hover just above and behind his head in a small ball. It almost looked like he had his own little fairy or pixie to light his way.
As Moses surveyed the room, he took in the different bits of things here and there; test tubes and parts, papers and... Is that a...? Moe crossed to the table on the other side and seized an oddly shaped contraption that looked like a clawed metal hand. "No way!" Another awed whisper. In his look around, Moe accidentally forgot that he wasn't alone and that Rose and him were actually in some hidden room in which they had fallen into through a secret hole in the wall hidden by a rank and itchy tapestry. Oops. But he couldn't help it! He was totally geeking out. They had stumbled into some mad, badass scientist/magic-worker secret lair! Totally Batman! And he was Bruce Wayne!—No no. Damian Wayne... or no! Nightwing. I'm totally Dick Grayson. Yeah. Dick Grayson. I'm so cool!
Seeing as the light from Moe's watch made her own measly flashlight obsolete, Rose turned it off and made to slip the phone back in the pocket of her skirt. An idea popped into her head as she did so, and her eyes quickly checked the screen, but alas, there was no signal. Of course.
As her friend wandered off to inspect the various gadgets strewn about, the princess opted to look at what she was better at – the books. Pulling a heavy, navy blue folder with the number 294 on the spine off the closest shelf, she coughed at the small dust cloud that enveloped her as she flipped it open. Inside were complicated sketches of contraptions she could barely understand, and the margins were cluttered with bits of small, messy handwriting. Rose turned her body so the watch light—no doubt something Moe had invented himself—was shining on the pages. She leaned back against the closest worktable, flipping through it. More schematics. Tiny, almost unintelligible notes. She squinted, trying to make out the words, but it was an arduous task. There was something in there about cost-efficiency and… a philosopher's stone?
The princess looked up from the pages thoughtfully. Everyone knew philosopher's stones were merely pipe-dreams. No one could circumvent the laws of magic and physics and evade the cost, and those who had tried met an unfortunate end. In order to obtain, something of equal value must be lost, everyone knew that to be an absolute truth nowadays. Even Moe, who was a great inventor himself, would probably know better than to try and create such a thing — the risks, the multitude of ways such a process could backfire, were too dangerous to ignore.
Right?
Rose looked at his back as he examined the piece of machinery excitedly. How far would he go for something that would let him circumvent the cost of wishes? Had he even thought of such things? His inventions were usually aimed at hobbies or helping his friends, not furthering his own powers. Harmless things. Like that watch. Its light was too bright too look directly into, though Rose was curious about how it worked and would have probably asked, had they not been trapped in some sort of crazy lab. Trapped. Rose swallowed thickly, feeling her pulse speed up.
The folder slipped from her grasp and hit the floor with a loud thump, but she barely even noticed. Her eyes darted left, then right, panic quickly rising in her throat. This place had no windows. No door. No air.
Her breathing picked up. Her heart was pounding. "There's no air," she muttered, clutching the edge of the table. "We're going to run out of air!" She was starting to hyperventilate, wasting what precious oxygen they did have, but the realisation only made the panic worse. Her chest was rising and falling in jerky, sudden motions, but as hard as she tried, Rose couldn't stop it.
Moe was in geek heaven! A fucking Withblade! He was as giddy as a schoolgirl—no offense to schoolgirls, however misogynistic the phrase sounded, because Moses really was feeling like giggling the way girls did when they were being all... giggly—because this was awesome! Okay so it wasn't a whole and completed, authentic Witchblade (maybe/possibly) but whoever Professor Batman/Bruce Wayne-badass-of-the-Andover-Academy was had been trying to figure how to make one, or how one worked. Both goals totally awesome in Moe's opinion. And the almost-Witchblade wasn't even the coolest thing one the table. And it was only one table out of a room full of them!
Geek.
Heaven!
Moe was in absolute Geek Heaven!
As Moe's eyes swept over the treasures on the table, he gasped, gently, reverently setting down the Witchblade so he could reach for something even more. Awesomer! Not a real word in normal circumstances but he was making a damned fine exception of it now because there were no other worlds to express, to the correct calibre of awesome that was before him. "Holy shit," he whispered reverently as he gently cradled the item in his hand. When the started worrying and panicked scuffling behind him interrupted his geek-worship, Moses felt a pang of annoyance and glanced over his shoulder at the offender. Only, when he realized it was Rose, and registered her distressed state, Moses forgot the precious thing is his hand, discarding with without concern, onto the table amid a rush to get to her side.
"Rose! Rose." Moe's large hands clasped onto the girl's shoulders and looked into her face, into her panicked eyes. Air? No Air? Even as he wondered at her words, the wish-granter inhaled a testing breath. The air is fine. No lightheadedness or shortness of breath. He wasn't cold or sleepy, his movements moving at normal speed and his limbs felt of their usual weight. All of this was catalogued, assessed and found acceptable. So why was she panicking?
Usually when it came to girls and their weird, freaky, unstable emotions and reactions to things, Moses stayed clear, but he wasn't handling just any girl. Rose was a girl, yes, but she was also his friend, and after what happened in the catacombs, he felt she was his responsibility too. Though he still didn't understand what she was freaking out about with the air and running out—after seeing the scope of the lab and seeing some of the things Prof BW(Bruce Wayne) created and was involved in, Moses had absolute faith and trust that a guy like that would not forget to create some sort of stable atmosphere within the secret room—he had her turned around with her back to his chest. "Breathe Rose. Breathe. The air won't run out," he promised, murmuring calmly into her ear.
Moe slowly slid them down to sit on the floor, keeping Rose against him—he didn't think to look for the nearest chair with his main concern being Rose and getting her to breathe. He held her arms around her chest, loosely, with his but kept his chest firm to her back and began taking deep steady breaths. "Can you feel me breathe?" As he spoke, Moses slowly took exaggerating breaths, inhaling and exhaling in a rhythm. "Feel your lungs expand with air Rose. Air that won't run out. It won't run out, Rose." He breathed out, his chest deflating with overemphasis. "I promise. Breathe."
In. Then out. Following Moe's instructions, Rose tried to imitate his motions, breathing with him as he did so. What he said didn't matter as much as the calm, soothing tone of his voice, and little by little, the anxiety eased its hold on her.
When her brain was finally able to run smoothly again, she registered that they were now sitting on the ground. Her thoughts immediately ran to the last time she'd had one of these panic attacks, and, even though she was in Moe's arms, suddenly felt really, really cold. There was a sharp pang of longing from a place deep within her, a basic need for warmth, and a shiver escaped her as she relaxed some more and slightly leaned back into Moe. "I'm starting to hate being underground," Rose muttered breathlessly. It wasn't just because she nearly died down in the Catacombs—though that was definitely a factor—but just the general closed off, claustrophobic feel she got at being cut off from the sun like this. She wanted open, grassy fields, fresh breeze in her hair, a blue sky above her and warm sunshine on her skin. Not cold, stale air and darkness.
Scanning the room once again, calmer and calmer with each passing moment, the princess came to the conclusion that it was quite spacious, so they had at least a few hours before the air became a real issue. With one last, sharp exhale, Rose patted Moe's arm gently. "Sorry about that. I'm okay now, I promise." Then it vaguely occurred to her that he was now the second person who was not a family member that she had allowed to hug her, and what was more, she didn't really mind it right now.
Moses North had intimate knowledge when it came to panic attacks. When speech was a trail he often failed during moments requiring communication with other people outside of the digital, analogue, and electronic worlds, when there was something he just had to say but his mouth refused to put the words together, panic attacks became very familiar. He didn't know how many times someone—his mother, father, Curly, or Larry—had to help him out of one. And they'd all had their own ways; paper bags, head between the knees. But the way his mother handled him during an episode was probably his favorite, as weird as it was for him to have a favorite way out of an attack. Not only did his mother's way handle his attack and guide him out of it gently, but holding him and breathing with him was a comfort, something that assured him he wasn't alone. Much better, that, than being bent over in a weird position or holding a cold, crinkly bag to his face. So was it any wonder that Moe fell to his mom's way when Rose was in trouble?
His arms tightened just slightly when Rose relaxed back into him; a small hug, a minute reflex to keep her safe. The corner of his mouth tilted upward with her muttered complaint, amused and pleased that she was well enough to be disgruntled. But, being the nerd-god that he was-in his own fanciful world-Moses looked up and around the room and said, "Well, technically we aren't underground. I'd say, if not just in a secret room through a wall in the castle then, possibly, a pocket world, on a parallel plain attached to a dimensional rip. Like a magic hidey-hole." Either, or, both sounded just about what he could imagine Professor Batman would do. Well, it would be what he would do if he was Professor Batman.
Like she'd pressed a button for automatic release, Moe's arms fell away just as soon as she tapped him. "Not a problem," he replied. Now that Rose was all better he was trying not to be aware that she was sitting between his legs and that she was a girl again. She would get up, and then him, and Moe would pretend like they'd never been in that position or anything. Curly and Larry would, he told himself, tease or get mad at him. Because the last time one of them went exploring with Rose and got all handsy, it was Larry in the position and Moe getting awkward and pissed off. "Need-need help?" Getting up... He didn't finish. His throat was closing on in appropriate thoughts and images that would get him kicked in the balls on purpose if she could read minds.
It didn't really matter to Rose if they were technically below ground or not – it was a closed off space. A creepy, dark, filled with who-knows-what closed off space. And she wanted to get outside.
After allowing herself just a few more seconds of comfort, Rose leaned forward, rising to her feet. At least, she told herself, Moe was there. If she had fallen down here alone, in the dark, surrounded by things she didn't understand, the panic attack would most likely lead to her passing out. His offer for help almost made her chuckle, but she kept it to a smile and turned around, offering him a hand. "Funny, I was just about to say the same."
Surprisingly, Moses didn't blush profusely when Rose beat him to the punch. It was actually funny; him offering his assistance when she was the one in the better position to help him. He took her offered hand but did most of the work himself. He was sure that if he made her do all the work they would both end up on the floor.
Once they were both upright again, her eyes fell on the table he'd been investigating when she lost it, and a wrinkle appeared between her eyebrows as her mind mulled over why exactly this place seemed so abandoned. "Why would someone need a hidey-hole in the first place?" she said, gaze fixed on the strange claw-like contraption. If it was hidden in the school, chances were the person was ether a student or a teacher. And if they had to hide their work… it was probably because they were dabbling in things they shouldn't be.
Rose walked over, looking apprehensively at the scattered inventions. Everything seemed to have just been… left in this state of disarray. She ran her finger over the smooth surface of the table, and then stared at the light coat of dust that covered it. "And more importantly… what happened to them?"
Moe dusted off his rear but there was nothing there. Had him wondering if it was a standard Clean spell or if, perhaps, there was some magic-infused gizmo running around there somewhere cleaning the floors and everything else.
He followed her perusing with his own, itching to pick up everything and inspect each until he knew how each one ticked or at least how they were intended to tick. "Well, actually, depending on when Professor B was doing this stuff, could have been it was illegal and if he was found out he could have gotten into some serious trouble," he answered. Moe picked up some papers of what looked like a phone box.
"Professor B?" Rose repeated, her eyes moving to Moe questioningly. As she turned to face him, her hand brushed a crumpled piece of paper. Unfolding it curiously, Rose moved closer to him in order to inspect it on his watch light. The letters, written in faded black ink, were still legible… they just didn't make any sense. It wasn't written in a different language; the grouping suggested a syntax, a coherent grammatical structure. And yet… none of it made any sense.
QRW VDIH DQBPRUH UHPHPEHU WKH SDVVZRUG LW WRRN BRXU PRWKHU WKUHH JXHVVHV EXW VRPHWLPHV LW LV ZLVH WR WKLQN EDFNZDUGV
"Why would someone write down random letters?" she muttered outloud, her brows furrowing to form a crease between them. This obviously smart inventor person had written whatever this was down for a reason, she was sure of it. Lifting it to the light, the princess managed to make out a small scribble in the upper left corner: a left arrow, followed by the number three.
"Left arrow… three?" Rose repeated, pondering this riddle. The arrow was the only thing on the paper so far that wasn't a letter. A clue… but to what? Rose stared at it intently. Perhaps it was a hint to deciphering the rest? Deciphering… Cipher!
"It's a key!" the princess exclaimed loudly, having completely forgotten that she wasn't alone. This whole message was encrypted, and the owner of the lab had left himself a reminder! Perhaps some of what she found in those folders wasn't just complicated after all – it was possible he used multiple coding systems! (especially if he was trying to hide his research)
Rose's eyes glided over the clue again and again. "Left three… left three… what does it mean?" Though there were many lessons on royal etiquette she had to sit through in her life, Rose distinctly remembered the ones covering spies and covert means on communication. It was important for a monarch to know these things of course, as it could potentially save their life. Still, it had been a subject that interested her, and she had done a bit of reading on it in her own time. There were many ways to code a message, such as various substitution or transposition ciphers. In a transposition cipher, the order of the letters is scrambled according to some scheme, while a substitution simply replaced them with different ones, again according to a pattern. Rose re-read the first few combination of letters, trying to rearrange them in her head, but there were just too many consonants. Perhaps it was a substitution then? So this hint could mean…
"Three left… but what if it's not left? What if it's back? Three letters back! The Caesar Cipher!" Rose leaned over the table, grabbed a discarded quill and flipped the paper over, scribbling on it anxiously. The quill had no ink but still produced solid, black lines. In her excitement, the princess didn't even question it. "Look!" she said, shoving the note in Moe's face, "Professor B coded a message!"
NOT SAFE ANYMORE REMEMBER THE PASSWORD IT TOOK YOUR MOTHER THREE GUESSES BUT SOMETIMES IT IS WISE TO THINK BACKWARDS
Letting him read it in peace, Rose turned slightly to look at the ancient computer in the corner of the room – the only place around here one could input a password. Maybe, she thought, if they could access it, it might help them find a way out? Or, even better, maybe it somehow controlled or triggered the magic locks that kept them trapped in here? That seemed likely, seeing as whoever this lab belonged to seemed to be fond of magitech. If only they could figure out what this password was. The backwards part was easy enough, but the rest… it could be literally anything! Well… there was one very famous instance of a mother having to guess trice. Was this Professor B somehow connected to…
"I think I know what he meant," she said. Slowly, she walked over to the computer and sat down in the chair. Her finger pressed the big ON button and the machine roared to life, but something immediately felt very, very wrong. The chandelier above them suddenly flashed with an angry, red light, and Rose found herself unable to move. The computer screen before her shone in bright, ghostly green, and before she knew what was happening, something sucked her forward.
Moe went red when she caught his name for the Professor and was relieved she was distracted before he had to explain. How geek boy could he get, right? Telling her he's already named the professor for this really cool secret cave after the Dark Knight, Protector of Gotham, would be the equivalent of stamping a 'Will be a forty-year-old virgin' on his forehead.
With Rose absorbed in whatever she found interesting, Moses tried to return to looking over the schematics. He wanted to figure out if the plans were legit and the machine would actually be fully functioning. He was totally geeking out about all the magi-tech prototypes and their scattered plans. From what he could tell, some were complete but most were disregarded half way, through. Whoever Professor B was, he had a lot of ideas he was trying to implement.
When Rose muttered the first time, Moe barely heard or cared, so focused on some really complex mathematical calculations. But when she started muttering about a 'left arrow three' he pulled his head out of the papers and focused on her. Something about her words made him think comp-speak/code. Then she was shouting 'key'. He could have been wrong, but considering he knew more about computers and their languages than she did, he discarded the plans in his hand and leaned over to try to get a peek around her while he scribbled. When Rose stood to shove the paper in his face, he was momentarily derailed by the fact she'd nearly headed him in the chin. Rose was all nice and kind but he couldn't help but think she was dangerous. At least when it came to his physical well-being. He was always getting beaten around her. Or almost. Okay, maybe he was being a bit of a baby.
Having taken his minute to wussy-out over a girl harming him, Moe didn't register the note right away, or Rose moving over to the computer that had been set out of the way. But with a snap of fingers, Moses picked up on certain, disturbing words: Safe, Password, Backwards, Key, Left, 3. Hadn't he seen something, a set of plans in the many stack of papers he'd been looking through that had those exact things? Magic-tech...MAGICTECH! "No! Wait! Rose—!" But he was too late. She'd already touched the tech. She was already gone.
"Oh... Fuck." He rushed over to the empty chair and the softly green glowing screen. "Oh shit. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. FuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckFUCK!" FUCK! "Rose..." He groan/whine/growled, basically cursing her name and her person at that very moment. "This is a magic tech lab!" Moe pulled off his baseball cap, ran his fingers through his hair, then threw his damn fucking hat hard across the room. "FUCK!" He had just gotten her back, safe and alive and now he'd lost her again! Again! He wanted to rip his hair out! A magictech fucking lab! A fucking lab! You don't turn shit on. You don't mess with anything. You barely even—no! You shouldn't touch anything! Any fucking thing, Rose! Moses shouted at her in his head, all the things he should have fucking said to her before!
Moe threw his fist and kicked out into empty space, grunting and cursing silently as he mentally beat himself up for not having protected her. Again. He'd been so pissed at Curly and Larry—especially Larry, whom he hadn't yet fully forgiven—for all the shit she went through down in the caverns. But now, here they are and she was in trouble again and all because he didn't fucking protect her. "Shit!" he cursed a bit louder, his face, his entire body red with anger.
Moses stopped in place, hands on his hips and stared out, angrily, into the empty room, while his mind went over how he needed to save Rose and how exactly he was going to do that. For a few moments, he couldn't get a thought clear, going back and forth between freaking out and wondering where she was, if she was safe, was she even still alive? "No. She's alive," he said out loud, the conviction in his words so strong they couldn't stay in his head. Rose was alive. She had to be. But where was she? And how was she? He could not answer those questions, so they became the first things he needed to know. How to get those answers? Well, the first logical step was to find that fucking paper and anything that had to do with computers, chairs, those words and anything else that had to do with that. "Don't worry Rose, I'll... figure this out."
In a few disorienting seconds, it was all over, and she found herself on the ground again.
Getting up and dusting herself off, Rose looked around this new, oddly quiet place… but there was nothing to see. Just an endless white space, as far as the eye could see, except a giant, square window towering in front of her. She stepped closer and put her hand to the glass. It was hard and unyielding, and what was more, through it she could still see the lab, strangely distorted and somehow… bigger? Rose put both hands on the barrier, drawing closer. No, the lab wasn't bigger. She was smaller! She was inside the computer!
"Moe! Don't sit on the chair, it's a trap!" she yelled, banging on the glass, but had no idea if he could hear a word she was saying.
Rose watched helplessly as Moe kicked up a storm in the lab. Apparently, he was unable to hear her at all, nor she him, and his attention soon diverted back to the papers. She had to give him a sign, but how? How? The princess leaned forward and pressed her forehead on the glass, trying to think. The ground beneath her hummed with the low rumble of the computer, and it strangely helped her concentrate.
Firstly, she noted, she must be trapped in some sort of virtual space. Maybe something like that pocket dimension thing Moe was talking about earlier. Secondly, there was nothing to interact with in here, no folders or a keyboard or anything else that would usually show on a desktop screen. Unless... this wasn't a desktop screen at all. Maybe it was a loading screen.
An eerie sound, something akin to a low chuckle, startled her, and she turned around sharply. To her surprise, the endless space behind her was no longer empty, as a large window had somehow popped into existence. It was plain and unassuming, a square, dark blue collection of pixels with a single, expecting, bolded word:
PASSWORD
For a second, Rose was distracted by the mere presence of the window, but movement near its lower left corner soon reminded her why she had turned around to stare at it in the first place.
"Ah... company. At last," said a raspy voice, whose owner remained hidden in the shadow of the box.
Rose swallowed hard, pressing her back firmly against the screen. The shadow stirred once again, shaking in another quiet snicker.
Moses hadn't wasted anytime crossing to the desk with the scattered papers where Rose had just been. Where she'd found something that sent her to the trap. Part of him cursed the sheer amount of things on the one table. Trying to determine what it was Rose had actually been looking at... Fucking Hell! He should have been paying attention. He should have been watching her instead of getting a hummer for the schems of Magitech. Sure, being in the lab was like dropping an alcoholic in a vat of his choice liquor. No way he could possibly resist. And the odds for him were even worse than that of the alcoholic. At least that guy would already know his addiction was dangerous. Already know he'd have to control himself. But not Moe. Magictech for the Djinn was his hobby, his dream, his obsession. And one he'd worked in controlled environments. All of his inventions had positive consequences. He used them to help people. Even the gun he'd brought down to the catacombs had helped, even if he didn't know what happened at the end, what happened to the witch, where she'd gone when she'd disappeared. But Moe had tried to ignore that particular problem. Or, if not ignore, at least not think of the outcome in a bad way.
Geez! All those times he'd heard or read about a magical being, a pillar of the community, being suspicious of or outright claim against Magical Technology, Moses North would scoff, shake his head, brush off their concerns and statements as paranoia or ignorance. 'They don't know magitech like I do' 'They are just afraid of what they don't understand' 'They are wrong! Magictech isn't dangerous if you handle it properly'. And now, there he was, standing in a room filled with all kinds of magical technology and his friend got hurt. Now, he was standing in that room, looking over inventions and schematics, one after another, and thinking how reckless and irresponsible it was to leave the shit around for anyone to find. Nevermind that he and Rose had literally stumbled onto the lab behind a hanging rug. It was just careless. And what happened to the person who owned all the inventions? Probably became a victim of his own work. And that was just proof how idiotic the professor was. Not some hero. Not for Moe. No. He could never—would never—leave his shit around for unsuspecting girls to get hurt, let alone fall victim to. "Idiot," Moe cursed quietly as he looked over a promising sheet before setting it down in the 'Not Helpful' pile.
As Moses reached for another page, he heard a small plink plink plink sound, like that of a pencil tapping glass. With a frown pulling his features down, he looked around for the source of the sound. He looked until the sound stopped, his eyes darting to the computer screen at the last moment. Just as he did, a blue box flashed onto the screen, asking for a password. But that wasn't what kept him staring at the monitor for a moment longer.
He had seen something, but he wasn't sure what it was. Had there been something there, on the screen? The Djinn shook it off after a moment and turned back to his search. Somewhere on the table there was the thing Rose had been reading. He just had to find it.
The entity behind the box moved.
Rose flattened against the glass — there was nowhere left to go. "Who... are you?"
The owner of the voice stepped forward, and the princess sucked in a breath. Whatever she was expecting, it certainly was not this. Instead of a person emerging out of the shadows, the creature before her seemed to consist of fraying black pixels. The shape, though definitely human, kept shifting and changing like sand right before her very eyes, leaving bits of itself behind when it moved.
"It is not important," it said, its voice decidedly male. "The more interesting question is, who are you? A new assistant? One of his students?" Rose didn't reply. The shape shrugged. A few more pixels peeled from its form, dissolving into nothing. "I suppose it doesn't matter, I'll have to kill you anyway. It's nothing personal, you understand. I was programmed that way."
Rose's breath hitched in her throat. The shape lifted its arm, and it morphed into a long, black blade. It slashed at her, but she managed to duck under the swing and slip behind him, heart thundering in her ears.
"I didn't mean any harm!" she shouted desperately.
The shape turned around. "That's beside the point. You sat on the chair, you tried to access forbidden files. It's my job to make sure you stop breathing." It came at her again, and she jumped behind the password box, barely keeping her left arm.
"I don't want to access the files! I just want to get out of here!" the princess said again, though it was becoming clear that reason would not do her any good. This was some sort of... program.
"To tell you the truth, I'd rather keep you alive," it said casually, swinging the blade again, though she managed to avoid it, thanking Max in her head for never holding back in their training. "It's been a while since the last guy." The next hit chipped away some of the password box.
Rose ran again, keeping the program on the opposite side.
"It's pointless," it said, slowly circling the box, clearly in no rush. Rose hid from sight. "There's nowhere to go."
She tried to remain calm, back pressed to the box, chest rising and falling rapidly. Another swing coming for her head missed by inches as she rolled out of the way, sprinting for the far edge of the password box, the only object she could use as a barrier.
The program approached slowly, sword scraping the ground as it walked. Then it stopped, turning its faceless head to the window. "Ah, I see. You're stalling." Its attention returned to her. "He'll just end up here too. Chair sensors never fail."
A chill of terror travelled down Rose's spine. She wished there was a way to warn Moe about this, some way to tell him, but just as fear was threatening to choke her, Larry's words rang in her memory.
I suppose I never felt in any real danger. Not with Moe and Curly and you there to help.
Rose pursed her lips, hands balling into fists. The program was wrong. Moe saw her fall into the trap, he would be smart enough to avoid it. He was going to find a solution, and he was going to get her out. She just needed to last until he did.
Moe was on the floor, scratching his jaw absentmindedly as he sifted through papers and schematics on the floor. His worry and impatience having left him a while ago, replaced by deadly determination. The same that he'd had down in the catacombs. The one that had him willing to sacrifice everything and everyone to get to Rose. The one willing to sacrifice himself.
And he was.
A glance at the clock on the wall, that one with time broken down into minute detail, told him that it had been sometime last week when he had found schematics. Not the schems for the computer or chair, but one for Time Dilation. The professor—as he'd returned to calling him—had created a cuff, of sorts, that allowed the user to move within time at a deferment rate than that of a non-wearer. Though both would experience time, the user was able to speed up or slow down the time around him. In Moe's case, he slowed the time around him. Hence the week. His week, everyone else's minute.
Moses was just about to discard a sheet into the seemingly suspended discard paper pile that hung around him—still in the process of falling in the real world—when what he'd just scanned replayed in his head; 'The next time he tries, he'll be PWNED.'
PWNED!
It was a term, a mistake by a long time hacker who had sent a message out to his recent victim. He'd meant to say 'Owned' but his finger slipped, a typo he'd been unable to fix before he sent it. But shit! None of that mattered! This was something Moses had been looking for! This was hacker speak. His speak!
The Djinn snatched the paper back and stood, the suspended pile around him bowing as he moved. Focusing in, Moe saw he hadn't been looking at schems so much as he was looking at a sheet of the Professor's journal. A journal! Feeling intense anticipation, Moses froze where he stood and downloaded all the words on the one sheet. Anything that pertained to the hacker, pwnage, anything computer related because there was only one computer in the whole lab. One. And in order to save Rose, he needed to know about anything and everything about it.
Once the sheet was read, Moses fell to his knees to sift even faster. No longer reading the words, Moe's brain search for patterns, commonalities; the type of paper, size of paper, computer speak. In a day/fraction-of-a-second he'd gathered a few pages and the actual journal itself. He was anxious as hell because some of the pages had been torn out or fallen out and he knew he hadn't gotten them all. But he couldn't worry about that now. No. So he read and flipped and read again. New code. New information. New source.
From the beginning he gathered that the Prof had assistants, two to be exact. Both he had trusted, until he realized some of his ideas and inventions were going missing or being tampered with. Prior to this he had been keeping everything on his computer. Post, he got the journal. The prof had ranted and raved at first, accusing both of ruining his work. When neither admitted to any sabotage—under extreme duress—the Prof believed that someone else was getting in. Thus the anti-virus.
"Shit."
Moe looked up at the computer and the desk, and the chair, and back to the journal. "Fuck. Fuck fuckfuckfuckfuck!" The djinn abandoned the journal and rushed to the workstation he'd rigged for himself: a Bluetooth keyboard connected to the only piece of working coding tech he had: his phone. Quickly he accessed Cloud9, a full-featured web-based IDE where he'd been building his code, his weapon. His fingers flew over the keys, but when it took a while for the code to be sent and accepted, Moses remembered the cuff and sped himself up to match the world around.
Moe stood up straight and looked down at the screen. "Okay. Okay." He could do this. "Yup." The hacker cracked his knuckles, wrung out his arms, and after he made sure the connection was as secure as he could make it, he tethered the phone to the computer. Then he set to work.
Fingers flying over the keyboard, Moses North found his girl and the anti-virus he'd read about in the journals, and set the arena for show down. Once he had the codes adjusted to his liking, Moe sighed with satisfaction. "Okay, Rose. I'm coming."
The blade missed her by a hair. Rose ran again, thinking that this was the exact sort of thing she had wanted to train for, but now that it was actually time to implement some of that skill, she had no idea what to do. You can't disarm something that can morph its own body into a weapon, and what use would punching it be? It's wasn't human.
Suddenly, the ground beneath her shook. The princess lost her balance and fell with a grunt, bruising her elbow in the process. She picked herself up just as swarms of pixels rose up from the hard, white surface, forming tall, misshapen blobs. Rose whipped around, spotting the program, which waddled clumsily in her direction while more and more white pixels erupted from the ground, getting in its way and hiding her from view. She scrambled to her feet and swayed backwards, bumping into something hard. The white silhouettes around her began to take on more solid outlines, filling in with colour and texture. Rose looked up, where thick white columns expanded and connected into an arch. Her hand felt the blocky pixels behind her turn into cold stone. Sand crunched under her feet, the emptiness around her filled with tall walls, stone arches and bright sunlight. Cheers were coming from nowhere and everywhere at once.
All of a sudden, Rose was standing in the middle of a coliseum.
Snapping out of her confusion, the princess remembered that there was an enemy nearby; her guard should not be coming down, not even for a second. Just as her mind focused more intently on the reason for this abrupt change, something else moved in the air. More pixels appeared out of nothing, gathering in a spot two steps away, converging into a tall, white, muscular figure, with a big green M across his chest and a billowing green cape. Like a... like a superhero. Rose's heart skipped a beat. She knew he would come for her! Suddenly, a black blur cut through the air, and M had to raise his arm to block it.
"And who might you be?" she shadow asked, half-amused, half curious.
M didn't answer. As the two exchanged blows, Rose retreated back to the entrance of the area, where the blue Password box still stood. She raised her hand, gently tapping the white strip under the word. Floating letters appeared below, like the keys on her phone, and she quickly pressed a few in succession. The box flashed red. Rose grumbled under her breath, hearing the clanks of swords clashing behind her. She had to think, and think fast. Guessing thrice was closely associated with one story she could recall, the one of a Queen having promised her firstborn to a spirit, who, when the time came to collect, agreed to give her three guesses to say his name. Rumpelstiltskin. But that didn't work! Rose remembered the professor's obsession with codes, and the cryptic message. Maybe the password was supposed to be in code? She tried to think. What else did that note say?
SOMETIMES IT IS WISE TO THINK BACKWARDS
A light came on in her mind. She whipped around quickly to make sure M was still holding his own. He had cuts all over his enormous biceps, but so did the other program. Both of them were bleeding pixels, which evaporated before reaching the ground. Rose turned forward again, determination shining in her eyes, and pressed the keys again.
N-I-K-S-T-L-I-T-S-L-E-P-M-U-R
A bright light blinded her, engulfing all her senses.
-O-
Soft footsteps echoed against the floor. Rose tried to blink once, twice, and opened her eyes to a blurry room. Her retinas still hurt, and she tried to keep herself from wincing. Her other senses kicked in, and she realised she was lying in a bed, and that someone was snoring like an active wood chipper next to her. After a few more blinks her vision cleared somewhat, and Rose saw that she was in the Infirmary.
"Ah, you're awake," the nurse said, smiling kindly at her.
Rose frowned. "Was I asleep?" She tried to recall what had happened after she input the password, but it was all a blank.
"Your friend here brought you over," the nurse said, inclining her head to the right. Rose turned, and only then realised that Moe was sitting in a chair next to her bed, arms and head propped on the chair back as he slept. So that was where that snoring was coming from. "He explained it all to the teachers but refused to leave your side until you woke up," the nurse elaborated. "Some sort of magitech misadventure? He said he managed to gain access to the computer's software and implement it to help his own little program, but when he pulled you out you were unresponsive."
Rose tried to remember, but all that did was cause her a headache. She groaned softly, placing a hand on her forehead.
"Don't push yourself, dear," the nurse said kindly. "You still need rest."
"How... how long was I...?"
"Just a few hours. I did a full physical when he brought you in, but you had just fainted. Nothing long-lasting."
"And him?"
The nurse smiled as her eyes shifted to the snoring Moe. "Stress and blood pressure was high, but I can't really blame the poor boy. He was almost in a state of panic when you came in. Wouldn't let me touch him until I reassured him you'd be fine."
A hot lump stung Rose's throat. She reached and gently squeezed his hand, which was hanging carelessly from the chair back. She would never had been so bold had Moe been awake, but she couldn't help herself.
"You should let him rest; it'll do him some good. You can head now, though, if you're feeling better?" the nurse suggested. "I'll let him know when he wakes up."
Rose shook her head. "I want to stay with him."
The nurse smiled. "Of course, dear. Let me know when you two are ready to go."