Still Breathing

Chapter 4

Unlikely Allies

The last embers of daylight faded, plunging the library into shadow. Rose sat huddled against a bookshelf, knees drawn to her chest, trying to ignore the faint groans and scratches still emanating from beyond the barricaded doors. Every muscle ached, her clothes stiff with sweat and grime. But she was alive. They all were, for now.

The others were scattered around the room, perched on tables or window ledges, faces drawn and eyes haunted. Nina leaned into Margot, the two girls clinging to each other like lifelines. Max paced restlessly, pausing now and then to peer through a gap in the blinds at the hellscape outside.

Chris and James sat shoulder to shoulder, passing a dented water bottle back and forth. And Tobias...Tobias had somehow produced a ukulele from god knows where and was plucking out a mournful tune, gaze distant.

Professor Castillo was a solid presence at Rose's side, close enough that she could feel the warmth of him, the occasional brush of his arm against hers sending sparks skittering over her skin. In the fading light, his eyes were fathomless pools, glinting behind his cracked lenses.

"We should take stock," he said at last, voice low and rough with exhaustion. "Supplies, injuries, anything that might give us an edge come morning."

"Morning?" Max barked a bleak laugh. "Bold of you to assume we'll make it that long, Prof."

Castillo shot him a quelling look. "We'll make it. We have no other choice."

Something in his tone brooked no argument, a steel that sent a shiver down Rose's spine. This was a man who would drag them kicking and screaming through hell if he had to. A man who would not let them die without a fight.

"I've got half a PowerBar and a ziploc of almonds in my backpack," Nina offered, rooting through her bag with shaking hands. "And, um, some Midol, if that helps."

"I've got bandages," Margot said, producing a small first aid kit from her designer tote. At their surprised looks, she shrugged. "What? I'm a dance major. Blisters are a bitch."

Chris held up the half-empty water bottle. "This is all we've got in the way of hydration. Unless you count the bottle of Fireball in James' guitar case."

"Hey, that's for medicinal purposes only," James protested, but there was a ghost of a smile on his lips.

"I've got a few protein bars and a multitool," Castillo said, patting his pockets. "And I'm pretty sure Special Collections keeps some historical weapons in the display cases. Might come in handy if those things break through."

Max eyed him speculatively. "Gotta say, Prof, you're handling this whole zombie apocalypse thing pretty well. Suspiciously well, even."

Castillo huffed a laugh, but there was no humor in it. "Let's just say this isn't my first rodeo with the whole 'world going to shit' thing."

Rose frowned, a dozen questions burning on her tongue. What did that mean? What kind of life had he lived before coming to Arkham U? She found herself desperately wanting to know, to peel back his carefully constructed layers until she reached the real Sebastian underneath.

But now wasn't the time for tragic backstories. Now was the time for survival. For banding together against the nightmare clawing at the doors.

"What about you, Rosie?" Tobias called, fingers never stopping their restless plucking. "What supplies did our resident literary goddess bring to the table?"

Rose started, pulled from her swirling thoughts. "Oh. Um." She dug through her messenger bag, cheeks flushing as she produced a crumpled bag of gummy bears, a dog-eared copy of The Portable Dorothy Parker, and a handful of tampons. "I've got...sugar and sarcasm, I guess."

There was a beat of silence, then Nina let out a snort that turned into a full-throated laugh. One by one, the others joined in, until they were all clutching their sides and howling like a pack of hyenas. It was a jagged, slightly unhinged sound, but God, it was good. It was proof that they were still alive, still human. That the horrors hadn't stripped that from them yet.

As the laughter faded, a heavy quiet settled over the room, broken only by the soft squeak of Tobias' strings. Rose chewed her lip, worry gnawing at her gut.

"Do you..." She swallowed hard. "Do you think help is coming? The National Guard or...or someone?"

"If they're not here by now..." James shook his head grimly. "The shit's hit the fan all over, would be my guess."

"So we're on our own," Max said flatly. "Fucking perfect."

"We're not on our own," Castillo countered, voice ringing with quiet conviction. "We have each other. And that counts for more than you know."

His hand found Rose's in the dark, callused fingers lacing through hers and squeezing gently. She squeezed back, tears pricking her eyes. This beautiful, brilliant man...he had saved her life today. Had saved all their lives, with his quick thinking and brave action. How could she have ever thought him just another elbow-patched academic?

"None of us chose this," Castillo continued, holding each of their gazes in turn, "But we're in it now. And the only way we're getting through is together. So like it or not...we're a team."

"The Breakfast Club meets Dawn of the Dead," Tobias quipped, but there was a determined glint in his eyes.

"I'm in," Nina said fiercely. "Ride or die, bitches."

"Ditto," Margot said, raising the Fireball in a wobbly salute.

One by one, they nodded, something like hope kindling in their shadowed faces. Rose felt it too, radiating out from where Castillo's skin pressed against her own. A sense that even in this shattered world, they had found something to hold onto. A cord that bound them all, strange and strong.

She looked to her professor, her savior, and found him already gazing back, eyes soft and gleaming in the gloom. There was a heat there, banked but unmistakable, that stole her breath. A promise of...something. Something that fate had seen fit to place in their path, even as it ripped everything else away.

There would be time to follow that thread later, to see where it led. For now, there was planning to do. Bonds to forge in the crucible of this endless night.

"Why don't we go around and share where we were when...it...happened?" Rose suggested, fighting a sudden, giddy smile. "Might help to know what skills and knowledge we're working with."

And so they did. The jock and the musician, huddled in the radio booth. The artist and the dancer, sketching by the fountain. The filmmaker, the gamer, the future leader of the free world. They spoke of homes and families, dreams and ambitions. All the things the monsters outside would gleefully rend and devour.

But not tonight. Not if they could help it.

Tonight, they would hold the darkness at bay with this fragile human connection, this tiny flame against the endless black. They would plan and prepare, mourn and rage.

And when the pale sun crested the horizon to illuminate a ravaged world...they would rise to meet it. Knives and bats in hand, hearts knitted together by an unbreakable thread.

The dead would not have them. Not now. Not ever.

Rose leaned into Castillo's solid bulk, breathing in the scent of him - paper and chalk dust and warm, living skin. Her head dropped to his shoulder, exhaustion finally claiming her.

Tomorrow there would be blood and chaos, an uncertain path through a brutal new world. But for now...for now there was this. The rise and fall of his chest beneath her cheek, the whispered vows of monsters vanquished and dawns still to come.

For now, it was enough.