The scorch marks stood out.

Some straight ecto-blasts, most were angry swipes of black marking into the cinderbrick walls.

A pile of metal lay bent and twisted, colorful bulbs busted.

Devices along the wall that once contained graduating class photos one could flip through now were ripped clear free of the wall, a mess of burnt plastic and twisted metal on the floor.

A long table quivered where it was, no longer able to stand steady or correctly. A huge long crack took up one entire side. A gaping crevice of destruction.

And another table was up haphazardly on its side in front of the milk coolers. Bent with some force placed upon it. The table surface was covered in ashy blackness. And riddled with holes. One of the coolers appeared dented behind a blasted hole.

Which meant... The table hadn't been moved.

And with the position it had against the wall coupled together with the holes...

Danny swallowed. Images flashed through his head, picturing faces in near dark lit up and tinted gastly green hue peering around the table. Had he? Memory? Imagination? True?

He heaved, arms wrapping around himself, trying to suck in air, trying not to breath, his whole body shaking at the images being conjured up into his head of kids taking cover and the echoing sound filling up his head and fearing-

"Danny? Did you come in to help with- Woah! Hey, there's a chair right here!"

Jerked out of taking in the damage, Danny stared.

Elizabeth.

Strands of hair sticking out and the fancy hairdo yanked back into a ponytail, scruffs of dirt on her arms and red halter dress and little black jacket she'd thrown on with sleeves shoved up, but whole and complete and unbroken.

It was Elizabeth.

He stared, unable to pull his eyes away, heart leaping up at the sheer sight of her darting over to grab him a chair to sit onto. Helpful as she always was. Always is.

The lightest tap of the chair touching the back of his knees did the trick to having his legs give out.

He didn't look away once, head twisted back, keeping her in view.

"You're okay." He breathed out.

A choked sob came up, relief.

She was okay. She was okay. She was okay.

What was the crack then?

That one table?

Please let it be just the table he pleaded with some invisible higher force. Please. Please let that be all it was and not...not...not a person. No one here was sounding like it past all the rushing into his ears, so please, everyone was fine. Everyone was okay.

Everyone was okay.

Elizabeth came around in front of him, eyebrows furrowed and then they shot up.

"Oh, shoot, I'm sorry! I didn't think about, I'm sorry. I got swept up helping in here and my thoughts were elsewhere and... I didn't even think to look and check up on you, I'm so sorry, I should have realized. Are you okay? I can grab you a water or some towels from the locker room, you're sha-"

"Stop."

His voice cracked, forcing the word out, closing his eyes to her, unable to see or hear her kindness aimed at him.

"Just stop. Don't worry about me. I'm not, I don't..."

He wasn't worth her kindness or deserving of anyone's warmth. Not after what he'd done.

"I... Is anyone-" He cut himself off of finishing that particular question. "Is everyone...okay?"

There was a pause, then she answered.

"Mostly minor injuries. Like a few cuts and bruises from the table being flipped. But everyone is okay. Or will be."

A pressure Danny didn't realized he'd been holding on inside released.

Everyone was going to be okay, be fine.

No one died.

His gut twisted painfully.

This time.

"Danny. Are you okay?"

"Don't worry about me. Really. Don't."

"But I..."

There was a pause and he could still feel her hovering close, her worry and concern and kindness all hanging heavy over him. Metal scraped and echoed, then clanged beside him. Danny's eyes shot open at the light weight and earthy warmth covering him. Her little black jacket.

"What, no! I said-"

"Too late. I can't just leave you like this. You're shaking and shivering. The least I can do is give you my jacket."

And sit next to him. Elizabeth sat down in the chair she'd pulled up beside his, relaxing back in it as she looked across the cafetorium. Dismayed, Danny stared, her jacket dangling in the space between them. Sighing, he lowered his still shaky hand, draping the jacket over his jittery leg.

"I deserve nothing." He muttered to himself.