The Sky that Nobody Sees

Collision

"Hahn!" Legolas jogged away from the bike rack to catch up with a dwarf from his political science class.

Hahn glanced over his shoulder to see him, and stopped, rolling his eyes. "You ought to rearrange your schedule, if you're always in this kind of pinch," he informed him, flipping open his bookbag to rummage for his notes from the reading they'd been intended to do, which he knew Legolas hadn't finished.

Legolas accepted the notebook and flipped to the marked page, scanning quickly down the dwarf's precise handwriting. "Having a job gets me out of the house."

"So do long walks on the green," Hahn snorted. "Take up lying in the frigid half-sunlight and take your textbooks with you."

Legolas shook his head with a small smile, flipping the page. "Somehow I doubt that would have the desired effect. Don't you want to feel useful, Hahn? Having a job accomplishes more than just lying around."

"Lying around studying so you actually pass your exams." Hahn shook his head right back at him. "We have to take the exams individually you know. No collaboration permitted."

Legolas checked his watch. "I've got a class. Thank you so much, Hahn." He returned the notebook, clapped him on the shoulder, and took off at a stiff jog. His ribs were still bothering him.

As much as he wished for the luxury of falling asleep in his debate class, too much class participation was required to permit for that, so by the time he got to his political science class with Hahn, Legolas's head was drooping onto his knuckles, his hand stilling around his pen. Hahn let him sleep for ten minutes, then sharply elbowed him when the topic changed. Legolas rubbed his eyes, switched hands with his pen, and blinked down at the professor.

"You ever tried essential oils?" Hahn hissed out of the corner of his mouth.

Legolas stared at him. "What?"

"I hear lavender is great as a sleep aid."

"You've got to be kidding."

"No really—they tried to market it as an appetite suppressant and all the test subjects just passed out or something."

"You," Legolas said, titling a new page of notes, "have got to get out of your house more. There is more to life than television and Internet."

Movement a few rows down from him caught his eye, and Legolas wrote as he watched the young man fidget. He didn't adjust his seat like most other weary students did; rather he shifted and twitched as though abruptly reminded of an appointment he wasn't certain he would make. Legolas slid his chair back a few centimeters and leaned forward to reach his notes, though his notes suffered while he was busy watching the fidgeting man.

Legolas's phone buzzed, and he glanced at it briefly under the table. It was from Elladan.

Woman we extricated from a domestic 3 wks ago found shot. Looks like mugging.

Legolas grit his teeth. They didn't necessarily keep track of any individuals they'd helped, but they did record names as needed. When someone they'd previously assisted came to harm, regardless of the reason, it always stung.

Is or looks like? Elrohir texted back.

A chair below them screeched back, and Legolas dropped his phone as his head rose. The fidgeter had stood. He pulled something out of his suit jacket, pointing it at the shocked professor.

Legolas planted his hand on the desk and vaulted on it, sprinting down across the four levels of desks between him and the shooter. His classmates screamed and scattered, some dropping and some lurching away. When he reached the last desk, Legolas leaped, hands out, and caught his classmate by the shoulders, yanking him down between the rows of desks.