HOLY FUCK OUR FLOOR IS ON FIRE
Who: Open to everyone on the fourth floor!
Where: Fourth floor
When: 4amish
Tonight was one of those nights where Caél was a prisoner to his insomnia. He had taken a handful of his sleeping pills early in the evening and it didn't even make him yawn. He hadn't been expecting to sleep at all. So, when 1am rolled around and he got inexhaustibly sleepy, he knew something was up. Curiosity clawed at his eyes, trying to keep them open, but whatever was pumping him full of serotonin won, hands down, and Caél fell asleep with a smile on his lips. He was happy to be drugged; it meant something interesting was going to happen.
However, when he woke up at 4 AM to an alarm and the smell of smoke he began to second-guess himself. He’d been knocked out, drugged, somehow, and to think that this was just some small prank would’ve been not only irresponsible, but down right idiotic.
So he grabbed some essentials. His switchblade, the sturdiest clothes and shoes that were in his immediately reach, and Claude. Call him sentimental, but he just couldn’t let the scaly guy roast, if roasting was inevitable. If not, well, he’d just look damn strange in his boxers, clothes under his arm, and a snake around his neck. Oh well, Vivian had already seen him boxer clad; a few more people wouldn’t hurt.
Caél felt the doorknob. It wasn’t hot; he was safe to go out. He threw open the door and stopped in mid step as the intense light and heat of the blazing fire hit him. It was like a mini sun was growing in the middle of their floor! For a second he was left bent over, coughing and blinded. The air was thick with heat and smoke, breathing was damn difficult…this fire had to have been going for a long time. What had they drugged him with?! No matter, it wasn’t important now. Once he was out of the house he’d sit and brood over what drugs could possibly do this. Priorities first.
He tied the shirt he'd grabbed around his face. It was a poor filter, but it was better than nothing. However, as he made his way to the stairs a thought struck him. Maybe the smoke was already making him delirious, but Caél ran back and began to pound on Rin's door and then Joy's. He screamed out over the alarm for them to wake up, just like his sergeant had done with him in training. Why did he do this? For amusement of course. Rin was like a small animal when frightened. And Joy? Well, booze hounds were always amusing, especially in high stress situations.
He hadn’t been planning on going further than that. The flames were too damn close to the rest of the rooms and Claude was beginning to squeeze his neck a little too tight. The alarm would wake up everyone else. Besides, it was panic time. Sure he probably shold've just left but...there was no missing for this. It was worth the smoke inhalation and heat blisters.
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Millie was rushing into the
Millie was rushing into the main area, not even having had time to get her robe on, and she stared, wide eyed at the flames. Oh no... She saw someone else up and knocking on doors, and she started that as well--pounding on her neighbor's doors, before she ran over to Matt's.
"Everyone out!! Don't wait!! Meet up at the Chapel!!" she bellowed as loudly as she could. She had some lungs for a woman of her nature. "Tell others, get everyone back away from the house!! Move, move move!!!" It was possible Millie could channel a drill sergeant when she wanted to.
The first thing Joy realized
The first thing Joy realized was that something was burning. Fuck me, did I fall asleep with a smoke in my mouth again? She'd fallen asleep so fast, she might have. But as she woke up she could tell it was something else. She could hear a roaring in the hallway, then someone running down the hall banging on doors and yelling. She got up and quickly put on her pants, under the jersey she'd been sleeping in, and her fuzzy slippers. She went to turn the doorknob, then actually thought for a moment. That might be hot. She looked around for a moment for something, then- "Fuck it" she took off her jersey and used it to pull the door open.
The heat that met her was INTENSE. The smoke was worse. Even a hardened smoker like her was having trouble breathing. She went into a coughing fit for a moment before she could tie her jersey around her face. She was trying to look around, but couldn't see anybody. Wait, there was someone there in the smoke- she could see feet at least. She headed towards whoever it was. Even if it was Janie, right now she'd take what help she could get. Well, maybe not Janie.
It hadn't occurred to her yet that she didn't wear a bra while sleeping.
"LET'S GO PEOPLE," Caél
"LET'S GO PEOPLE," Caél barked. "You're all going to be human rotisserie if you don't hustle!" Sure that wasn't really a helpful thing to say. But who said he was really helping? "The only thing you shold be grabbing is your ass in order to get the fuck out of here!"
In the midst of screaming, Caél suddenly he felt someone bump into him and, when he looked down, all he saw were giant pair of tits, glowing in the light of the fire.
"What. The. Fuck."
The smoke hadn't made him sick yet, but this was enough to make him wretch. It took a second or so for him to regain his bearings, but when he did he seized Joy's hand and, with as little physical contact as possible, shoved her towards the stairs. "This is no time to think about tanning your tits," he yelled angrily and then went back to barking orders at the people who were still dilly-dallying, editing them a bit in order to, hopefully, prevent any more close encounters of the tit kind. "C'MON PEOPLE! All you need are the clothes on your back! Let's GO!"
Joy gasped as she felt
Joy gasped as she felt herself bump into someone, followed by loud swearing and then being half thrown into the stair railing. "I'm going, I'm going, Jesus!" She thought about hanging around for a moment, in case anyone needed help. Then she heard him yell something else at her. Did he just say "nice tits?" At that, she thought better about it. This was no time for heroics. If whoever had just tossed her aside wanted to risk his life, that was was his problem. She began running down the stairs.
....
Rin heard the alarms before she did the pounding, and she came awake quickly, sitting up and hugging the blanket to her chest, looking around wide-eyed, as if the source of the noise might be right there, in her room.
It wasn't, though, and she reached for the whistle that Father Bob had gotten her, curling a small hand around it and holding it close. Now that she was awake she could smell smoke, and hear footsteps and pounding and yelling. And she half wanted to just hide under her bed and ignore it. Bad things happened here, but there were a lot of people. Maybe if she stayed out of the way, no one would notice and she would be okay.
The smoke was stronger though, making her eyes water and her lungs want to choke some, and Rin wasn't stupid. She got up finally, still hugging the blanket to her until she made herself let go. She padded over, barefoot and pajama-clad, not thinking to grab shoes or anything else, and pulled the door to her room open, peeking hesitantly out into the chaos.
Out here the smoke was stronger and she could see people running around, hear something yelling for them to get out - a woman she hadn't met - and the man from the meeting who seemed mean and had talked on the journals with her standing with a lady with no shirt, but they were all moving, toward the stairs.
Down the hall she could see the orange tinge of flames reaching out, and feel the heat of them a little, even from where she stood. Rin whimpered to herself, the sound only barely escaping and sounding like nothing but a soft sort of choking gasp. She SHOULD go to the stairs, she knew. But she couldn't really make her legs work, for some reason, just yet. She wished her brother was there. He would fix it. Or Drew. Drew would know what to do.
When Caél caught glance of
When Caél caught glance of Joy's open door and saw Rin peeking out of hers he had a terrible urge to run over the fire and thrust his hands into it. He'd touched that piece of white trash! Despite the heat he shivered a bit. He'd do some ritual hand washing and vomiting later. Now...now it was time to toy with Rin. She was just so adorable, like a cute fuzzy animal...it made Caél want to skin her.
"Rin," he yelled out, "What are you doing just standing there?! Didn't you hear me? Don't you see the fire?! You don't want to get burned alive do you? Or WORSE! Suffocate from smoke inhalation!" Caél began to usher her towards the stairs, smiling wickedly behind his shirt. "You have such a small frame it won't take much smoke to kill you. You have to get out of here, now! Hold your breath and go as fast as you can!"
Rin blinked huge, watering
Rin blinked huge, watering eyes up at him and shuddered, scarred throat working as she swallowed and then she shook her head, coughing once and then lifting her hands, frantically starting to sign, too fast for anyone who wasn't expert to even begin to follow, let alone someone who wasn't. What happened? Are people hurt? Where is Drew? Why isn't there water? Did someone set it on fire? Where do we go? One sign followed the other in a frantic mishmash of gestures.
She realized finally that he wasn't going to follow and whimpered the same strange, almost-choking sound before nodding, biting her lip and then looking toward the stairs. It was stupid, but she felt like it was less safe if she left her room, almost the way a child felt safer under the covers.
But she wasn't a child, however, she looked, and she made herself let go of her death-grip on the door frame, taking a few stumbling steps toward the stairs, eyes going from Cael to the fire that was licking its way outward.
Joy had heard more shouting,
Joy had heard more shouting, and stopped short on the stairs, looking back to see if anyone was following her. She finally saw what almost looked like a child at the top of the stairs. Fuck, what's that kid doing here? Her maternal instincts overriding her self-preservation ones, she ran back up to the top and grabbed the girl gently but firmly by the wrist. "Come on, it'll be ok, we just have to get out of here, now!"
...
Rin didn't know the woman, but she was grabbing her, and pulling her toward the stairs, and that was where she had to go. It was sort of a relief to not have a choice, because her feet kept wanting to run right back to her room and hide, even though that didn't make any sense. She nodded in assent, hands shaking more than a little, but she went with Joy willingly, looking back at the fire once more before she was heading down the stairs with the older woman.
"It's ok, sweetie, we'll get
"It's ok, sweetie, we'll get out of here in no time." Joy was saying this to herself as much as to Rin, trying to calm herself. After what seemed like an eternity, she had made it down the stairs to the foyer, with Rin in tow. With a great gasp of relief, she pulled down her makeshift facemask and breathed in the clean air as they got clear of the doors.
Then she looked down at the shirt in her hand and it occured to her that she had basically been topless since leaving her room. "Aw hell." She slipped the shirt on, then looked at the girl. At first she was shocked by the scar on her neck, but right now she had to get past that. "Are-" she coughed up some phlegm- "are you okay?"
.....
Rin let Joy be the one who guided them out, and she knew the older woman was topless, since she was sort of on chest-level almost, but with everything else going on, she didn't even really register it.
She was coughing too, and her throat ached with it, and she kept her feet on the floor as they left, so she didn't look up and see fire anywhere, because she was afraid her feet would want to freeze again, if she did.
She didn't really look up until they were outside, and then she looked back at the house, searching for signs of the fire and seeing great arches of smoke coming off of it.
People were emerging, heading all in the same direction and she looked after them, searching for Drew. Or Bob or anyone else she'd met before looking back at Joy, lifting shaking hands to start to sign and then remembering, and just nodding her head, coughing again.
.
Laila wasn't used to going to bed so freaking early, so when she found herself dropping off around midnight, she changed into her pajamas and passed out with only a minor 'wtf' about it. Instead of spending a nice eight hours resting, however, she was jolted awake by the sound of sirens and a sort of dry, crackling roar seeming to echo throughout the house. She lay there only a second before adrenaline surged and she was rolling out of bed, just then realizing the air was thick with smoke. And, like the saying went, where there was smoke, there was fire.
Laila didn't think twice; she didn't pause to do anything other than shove her feet into a pair of flip flops and peace out, clad only in her underwear and a tank. "Shit," she muttered to herself, unable to help thinking about all her stuff and how it was likely to be fucked up beyond belief. Still, what was most important was life, and she could think of two rooms that shared the rather deserted hallway with her own isolated room. Laila made her way immediately down to Matt's room and the room beside him, banging heavily with her good arm. "Wake up!" she shouted, hoping to be heard over the fire alarms. "Fire! Get up and get outside!"
When Laila came to pound on
When Laila came to pound on Matt's room too, Millie immediately started on ones that hadn't opened yet, looking around as she covered her mouth, pulling the chest of her nightgown up to cover her face. "EVERYONE TO THE CHAPEL! KEEP THE WOUNDED IN THE CHAPEL!! GO, EVERYONE, GET MOVING!" From shouting, she gasped in for air, and caught so much smoke it had her doubling over in pain in her lungs, but she pushed herself back to her feet. God, this as awful. Everyone needed to get out, she didn't know if Calvin's medications were going to keep him asleep, she needed to make sure Matt got out...
The pounding woke Matt -
The pounding woke Matt - he'd always been a heavy sleeper and the moment he smelt the smoke he put it together and he was out of there, wrenching open his door and heading out into the hallway.
Millie knew she had to get
Millie knew she had to get herself out too, she just got low and tried to run towards her room. The door was still open, thank god, and all she had to do was reach inside--she did, grabbing her black bag--something she always kept right by the door in case of emergencies, which this definitely qualified. So, she grabbed it and tried to keep low still as she looked back towards Laila and Matt. "Hurry!" she called, though not nearly as loudly as she would have liked, the smoke she'd inhaled already curbing her ability to shout properly.
...
Early to bed wasn't that unusual to Davis, when he wasn't finding anything interesting to do. He was used to four am wake ups and six am ring-calls, and the habit was still there, even if he'd spent more than his fair share of mornings dragging his ass around because he'd been out too late the night before. So it hadn't struck him as that unusual when he'd started getting tired at midnight the night before.
The blaring sirens and smell of smoke, however - THAT was unusual. And the worst fucking wake up call on the planet.
He was out of bed and clearheaded quickly though, checking the door for heat before yanking it open and stepping out, seeing a chaotic swirl of screaming people and bodies heading down the stairs.
And, oh yeah, the glow of a huge fucking fire coming from the central room.
The doors near him looked to be already opened, and he didn't waste any time, turning to head for the stairs. He saw a woman he vaguely recognized from seeing around a ways away, her arm in a cast. The fire made an uncomfortable sort of roaring sound from the central room - like it was getting ready to rebound and spread - and he yelled to her. "Get the fuck downstairs, they'll hear." Except the deaf chick, but that wasn't her room he was pretty damn sure. He'd looked to see who was where after the last adventure.
When Vivian had first awoke,
When Vivian had first awoke, the smoke and sirens had seem almost dream like (well, nightmare like) and she had tried to discount them as such. But the blasted noise would just not stop. It had finally roused her fully and she sighed as she slipped out of bed and into her robe. I swear, if all of this commotion is from someone burning a midnight snack... Of course, when she opened the door, that idea was quickly tossed aside.
Fire. Screaming. Panic. Vivian's heart lurched in her chest, adrenaline surging in her veins as she took action. She did not pause for anything, simply ran, barefoot toward the stairs, shoving the man near them out of her way as she did. It was a fend for yourself situation in its very definition, there was no time for courtesy.
She flew down the stairs, sometimes taking them two at a time, one hand raised to her mouth, using the robe to block out the smoke. Vivian did not stop, or even pause to spare a glance at the chaos around her. She had the very worst of tunnel vision at the moment, and the only thing on her mind was getting out.
...
Davis had been about to step down the stairs when a hand from behind shoved him roughly out of the way. His knee, still barely awake and stiff with it, protested the sudden lurch for balance and he was falling over before he realized it. Quick reflexes reached out to grab the banister though, keeping himself from falling entirely - or rolling down the goddamned stairs.
He glared at the rapidly vanishing, slim female back. "Bitch," he mumbled, righting himself. He spared a last glance, looking around for the woman in a cast. But he could hear the sound of floorboards creaking as the fire weakened them, and he didn't waste anymore time, heading downstairs as quickly as his knee allowed, following the others outside.
The amusement and adrenaline
The amusement and adrenaline of the situation wore off once Joy took the panicked Rin away. Sure he could've stayed to watch the rest of the floor frantically scatter about, but the fire was growing, a roaring monster engulfing everything around it. This whole floor was made of wood, and if things kept going as they were it was going to be ash soon. Plus, with his adrenaline gone, the heat and smoke were finally getting to him. And if it was getting to him, it was getting to Claude too. Sure snakes could hold their breath for a long time, but the smoke couldn't be good. Neither could the dry heat.
When his lungs began to burn in protest, Caél's survival instincts kicked in and he bounded down the stairs. His eyes were watering and stinging from the heat and smoke; he was practically blinded, but he kept going. As long as he kept the same rhythm he'd be fine. It was just one flight of stairs right?
Wrong. The third floor was ablaze too. Another flight of stairs, another burning floor. "Are they just going to let the whole place burn?" Caél thought to himself as he went down the rest of the stairs two at a time until he finally made it outside.
Rebekah had heard the sirens
Rebekah had heard the sirens -- it was impossible not to -- heard people pounding on her door, people shouting, people running, and the all too familiar roar of a blaze. The house was on fire. A lot of fire, from the sound of it. She hadn't responded, hadn't bolted for an escape like everyone one else. She'd frozen up instead, watching the smoke leaking into her room with wide eyes that burned but weren't blinking enough. Her heart was pounding and she was shaking like a leaf but she couldn't make herself move. There was fire out there, and on it's way in, but she just sat paralyzed and cross-legged on her bed, watching the door. This was it, it made perfect sense, this was where she was going to die. In a housefire, just like the one she'd been damned in. A bit ahead of schedule, but close enough.
Everyone was getting out and running down, some panicking, some organising. Adam did neither. He had nothing to pack, nothing to collect, nothing that he couldn't do without. When he had woken to the sirens and smelt the smoke, when he'd heard the shouts and realised what was going on, he'd calmly dressed in warm, serviceable clothes and picked up a knife that lay on his desk before heading out. He didn't panic, though the smoke irritated his throat and breathing was harder than normal. Death would be a mercy, but Adam didn't think He was ready to take him just yet. Everyone was getting out of the house - that was a good plan, but when Adam got to the stairs, he started up rather than down. It was just a gut feeling - and he'd follow it. It didn't take him long to get to Rebekah's door - though someone had shouted at him on the stairs that he was going the wrong way. He knocked and waited, then tried the handle of the door.
She didn't expect anyone to knock again. To her eyes, when someone did, a sheet of blood splatters flew off of her side of the door as though they'd been knocked loose by the fist. Rebekah let out a startled shriek, jumping a bit as her hands clutched convulsively at the blanket under her. Everyone human had to be out of the house by now, and maybe she was dying already and what was on the other side of the door was whatever being had come to finally take her, she didn't know. The knob rattled but the door was locked and everything was so confused and she couldn't breathe well anymore.
"Rebekah?" Adam shouted through the door. If she'd left earlier on, would she have locked the door behind her? In a burning building? Possibly, but what if she was still in there. He could hear the crackle of the flames behind him - he didn't have long and still had to get out. But now wasn't his time and pain didn't phase him - if he was going to burn, he wouldn't try and save himself, but today wasn't the day he was going to die.
"NO!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, not moving from the bed. It didn't even register as his voice, it just sparked deep-seated terror in her diseased mind that whatever it was knew her name. Despite knowing that this had been coming for almost fifteen years, despite every delusion that she'd accepted it, the instinct to survive had dug in and twisted the wrong way. She wasn't going anywhere.
She was in there - and the fire was getting closer. Adam acted on instinct, taking a step back and levelling a kick at the door. The splinter of wood was almost inaudible against the crackle of the fire, but it was there and the door moved in as Adam stepped back in again to finish the rest off with his shoulder, staggering and coughing a little as the door gave way completely and he entered her room.
She let out another piercing shriek, this one wordless. Her voice cracked and when she tried to inhale again she took in quite a bit of smoke and started coughing hard. At the same time she scrambled backwards on the bed until her back hit the headboard, eyes squeezing shut and one skinny arm darting up to try and cover her head. Her mind raced in it's jumbled crazy mess, mixing up Adam's backlit figure with those of her father and all manner of demons. Daddy'sbackfromthedead and madIburntthehousedown and gonnadragmedowntoHellwithhim and --
"Rebekah!" he shouted again as he headed over to her. It took him the few paces to get to her side to realise that she was frozen and panicking. He didn't even pause as he picked her up inelegantly, cradling her in his arms as he turned and strode back towards the door, covering the ground quickly - they had a long way to go before they were safe. He felt a singe on his cheek and looked up - the fire was coming through the ceiling, dropping burning hot bits of the floor above on them.
She struggled against being hauled up off the bed for a couple of seconds before she went as still as she could, a taut little curled ball in his arms. It was always worse when she struggled, always made him hit more and harder and angrier and even though the man who was actually carrying her was doing none of that, her wires were already crossed. She kept her eyes squeezed closed and grit her teeth and made keening noises she couldn't even hear between the coughs she was trying to suppress.
Her not struggling was good as Adam headed towards the stairs. Getting them out of here before the ceiling caved in would be a plan. There was no sign of anyone else as he hit the stairs to the third floor, at a run now. She wasn't very heavy - something he was eternally grateful for.
She could feel the heat around her and the bits of white-hot that dropped down onto her arm and the side of her neck. They were headed down, she could tell by the jostling on the stairs, and it all made perfect sense, seeing as how they were descending into Hell. But she was helpless to do anything but cry and cough and try not to do either. She was defenseless because she deserved this.
Adam concentrated on nothing but getting them out of here as he ran down the stairs. He could smell singed hair in with the stench of hot smoke and he wondered absently which one of them that was from. He sent a silent prayer now that they would get out safely, though not for himself - if it was simply him alone, he would take what came, he would not try and avoid any burns which came his way. No, the prayers were for her, that she not have to suffer just because he was destined to.
Somewhere on the way down between the second and first floors, the effects of fear and smoke inhalation on her already-taxed body took hold. Rebekah saw bright white and red sparkles behind her eyes. She must be dying. Really really dying. It was time, it was done, and when she woke up she'd be in the fire instead of passing through it. In it for eternity. It was just too much, and her coiled form went limp and got heavier as she passed out completely.
Adam didn't even notice - running in the smoke was getting harder - his lungs were burning, his throat raw. His eyes were streaming, trying to see. He hurt everywhere - at least down here they weren't being rained on by small spots of burning material, but they'd left their legacy. And the girl in his arms seemed to be getting increasingly heavy, his muscles threatening to seize up if he didn't let her down soon. But the door was in sight and he staggered through it, pulling in a breath of fresh air as he staggered a few more paces, before sinking to his knees, dropping Rebekah on the grass before him.
.
Heat and smoke, banging and yelling - well, it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what was happening as Kaylin woke and pulled open her door. All the same, sleep made her stupid for a second or two as she stared at the fire raging in the common area of their floor, her housemates all banging on doors and making their way downstairs. The sound of something falling in the fire - a bookshelf, perhaps, or a number of other things going up and giving way - spurred her to move. Kaylin grabbed the knit sweater she'd made herself from her bedside table and slid her feet into a pair of flip flops, rather irrationally closing her bedroom door behind her. She checked the rooms on either side, a corner of the sweater over her mouth and nose to try and help filter the smoke, but both were empty. In fact, it looked as if she were the last - or one of them, at any rate - to make her escape. Coughing, eyes watering, Kaylin's conscience wouldn't let her leave until she'd checked Ben, the poor, strange man who had a habit of not answering his door when people banged on it. She circled the fire, banging on the door as hard as she could.
"Ben!" she cried, mouth as close to the door as she could get and praying he heard her. "Open the door - there's a fire! We have to get out!"
.
Ben was awake, and ignoring the noise as much as he could. He was a man stuck in habits that reassured his frayed nerves, and one stuck on a stilted sleep schedule as well. Whether it was his medication or his condition to blame, he never knew; he only knew that more often than not there was a sunrise he was awake to ignore. Tonight had been no different for him; a steady progression of time passing as he jotted furiously in a notebook of tablature. No different except when the noise had started, that is. He was aware enough to know that the others here kept different hours, that the dark outside his window meant the chaos shouldn't have started for hours yet. Wrong. Wrong outside that door.
Still, Ben would've been willing to ignore it and keep to his own pursuits even as he smelled acrid smoke, unaware of the wisps creeping under his door. Kaylin's pounding changed all that, making him leap in his seat with the first blow as his heart seized and his throat seemed to squeeze tight. Turning to look, he finally had a flicker of recognition at the haze filling the air, connecting it to the ashen taste in his mouth and rising on bare feet. Fire? Was that what she'd said? Or was it a ruse, a trap to get his door open so he could face torment from these numerous strangers?
Ben moved for the door all the same, dimly aware of the warmth on the knob as he tugged it open and shot Kaylin a bewildered look that quickly strayed past her to the flames growing larger and larger. "Open the inferno," he muttered in dull shock, taking a step back at the sight of it. Ben knew on some conscious, rational level that he should've left then and there, but instead he released the door and turned back to his room. To his tapes; hours upon hours of works in progress, his fears and dreams told in music. "All gonna burn," he rumbled, feeling rage rise up like bile in his throat and knowing, again, on that faint unheard level, that he couldn't hope to save them all. Ben instead moved for his guitar, safe inside it's hardshell case, and hefted it up in both hands. "Free!" he bellowed, flinging it overarm towards, and through, the window leading outside with a shattering of glass. He wanted to cry even if he knew it'd be simple enough to find it outside, but there was no time.
Turning back to Kaylin, Ben stalked out the door and grabbed her arm with a somewhat wild look in his eyes. "Never time to mourn," he growled, looking past the flames to the stairs, "Let's go." He might've seemed fearsome in the moment, eyes shining in the firelight and breathing heavily despite the smoke, but already his gut was winding in panic. Go... outside?
.
The wave of relief that had hit Kaylin when Ben answered was dissipating the longer they stayed there; the fire was already creeping towards the bedrooms and it was getting hotter, the smoke thicker, finding a breath becoming harder and harder. All the same, she knew what he must be feeling, glancing around at all the music and instruments he had in his room. She was just about to go after him and make him come with her when he instead came after her; he was frightening in that moment, grabbing her arm in a painful grip.
"We have to go quickly!" she cried, voice muffled by the knit sweater she was holding over her mouth to help filter the smoke, coughing until her eyes watered. "Before it gets to the stairs." Plus, she didn't know what sort of shape the rest of the house was in; she didn't know if the fire was only on their floor or if it had spread from somewhere else. "Put your shirt over your mouth so you don't breathe in as much smoke." She twisted the arm he held slightly to get a grip on his arm, right above the elbow, tugging him towards the stairs.
.
"Quickly," Ben echoed, his hand snapping open when Kaylin grabbed him. "There," he went on, nodding at the stairs and starting for them quickly, giving his arm a little yank against her grip to free both hands up. Ben followed the advice dully, stretching the collar of his shirt with a soft rip as he wrestled it over the mass of his beard. "Where? Outside? Where then?" he called back as he took the first few stairs down. At least it was someone familiar, if it had been a stranger, Ben may not have even gotten this far.
.
Kaylin kept a hand on his back as they moved, not wanting to lose him or be lost in the chaos to get outside. "Just outside for now," she called back. "We'll find everyone else out there." The smoke was thick, stinging her eyes and choking her, and she knew they should be as low as they could get, preferably crawling, but that was too slow and they still had three more flights of stairs to cover. She could see the third floor was also on fire, and was going to assume the worst - that all the floors had fires. Kaylin tried to check and make sure all the doors were open - which would mean that the occupants had likely made their way out - but the smoke in some areas was too thick. She was discouraged from lingering as a piece of the burning ceiling broke free, a small chunk about the size of her fist, and glanced off her bare shoulder, scoring a mark down the side of her arm to her elbow. She cried out at the sudden burn and jerked away, trying to hurry Ben so they could escape.
.
Ben didn't have such forethought, not sparing a glance to his surroundings as he worked down the stairs with Kaylin. His thoughts were on him; on the white-hot fire in his gut that was equal parts panic and rage. Ben was losing his clarity of thought faster and faster as the panic took the reins, and he didn't even notice as a bare foot came down on a smoldering bit of debris, then kept going forward. When Kaylin stumbled into him he growled unintelligibly, snagging an arm around the diminutive girl and hefting her weight with his own to keep her on her feet. "Outside!" he roared under his impromptu filter, letting tears run freely from his smoke-filled eyes and half-carrying Kaylin down from the stairs onto another floor.
.
"Ben, stop!" Kaylin called, struggling not to lose her balance as he slung her around with him. "I can walk on my own." She kept moving, though, ignoring the throbbing on her arm because there was one more flight of stairs to cover, and then out the front door. "It's all right," she said, hoping some of her words were getting through to him; there wasn't much she could do to calm the agitation she sensed from him, not when she was frightened and disoriented and it was getting harder to breathe, but if Ben panicked he might forget where he was, might run the wrong direction or anything else that could happen in emergency situations. "Come on," she said, trying to sound encouraging through her coughing fit. "One more flight and then we're out."
.
"Not alright!" he wheezed, rounding the railing with Kaylin even as he worked to make his body listen to her protests. Ben's grip loosened to give her footing back, but not so much that there was much space between them. She had it perfectly right, unfortunately; in a situation of duress like this, he wouldn'tve known heads from tails. And with how little Ben had really explored, he wouldn't have counted on his clearer days being able to guide him out of here. So for now, even under the rage and the seemingly uncaring attitude towards the smoke, he needed her close.
.
"Well, no," Kaylin admitted, fighting back the irrational (and likely hysterical) urge to laugh at that. "Not all right. But we're doing just fine. We'll be out in two minutes, we're going to be okay." The encouragement was as much for him as it was for herself and all the prayers she was thinking for the housemates and her friends. She stuck close, grateful his grip had loosened enough to let her walk, wrapping an arm around his waist to guide him down the stairs. She was dismayed to see the fire had reached the foyer, flames licking at the gorgeous piano that she'd grown to love so much. There was no time to stop and try to save it, though, so she merely had to look away, keep her gaze focused on the front door and the promise of escape.
.
To Ben, the sight of the piano was a horror; flames dancing near enough that he imagined he could hear the break of every string. "Don't look," he muttered, letting Kaylin point him towards the door and putting a staggering burst of speed into his feet. Ben crossed the foyer quickly, stopping just shy of slamming into the door and yanking it open for her. He was quick to follow, up until his body betrayed him. Sometimes, especially in times of stress, he lost any real awareness of how his limbs operated, practically mentally numb to their existence. This was one of those times; Ben's shoulder clipped the doorway hard, spinning him on suddenly clumsy bare feet to send him sprawling outside, just past the door.
.
"Oh my god," Kaylin said, jolted sideways as Ben suddenly collapsed, hoping he hadn't been injured on the way down. She quickly knelt beside him, coughing again and gasping for breath, chest tight. "Ben, are you all right?" she asked, trying to help him up. "Come on, we have to get farther out. We're still not safe here." Safety wasn't far, though, represented by the cluster of people gathering on the grass a safe distance from the house.
.
For a moment, he just laid there, letting his eyes clear as Ben looked up to the billowing smoke pouring from the open door into the dark sky overhead. He smiled strangely at the sight before his lungs reminded him of their needs, wracking his body with a cough that was drawn out and inverted into gasps of air. "Wernicke's..." he mumbled as he struggled to sit up, looking back into the house at the growing fire, then to Kaylin again. "Farther?" he muttered grudgingly, head twisting to follow her gaze over to the others as he awkwardly worked to get his feet under him. Ben's head was spinning, already pounding with the formation of a migraine and edged with a threat of nausea. He was already out, how much farther from a walled space would she drag him? It was that thought that sparked another as Ben worked towards standing, one that worried him as much as the fire. Medicine... upstairs. "Fuck."
.
"What?" Kaylin asked to his first muttered word, not understanding, but shrugged it off. Time enough to speak when they weren't on a fiery porch. "Just a little farther, Ben," she encouraged, hearing cries from someone out in the darkness to meet at the chapel. "Down to the chapel and we can rest." She was in much the same boat as he was, feeling what could be a very powerful migraine building and realizing that she'd left her medication for it upstairs. No time to think of that now, though, and there was always the chance that Dave would have something that would work instead. "Come on, we can do it," she encouraged, helping him stand despite the way the world was spinning around her.
"No," Ben muttered, rubbing both hands at his eyes as he stood and struggling against the spinning feeling beneath him. "No. No sanctuary there... no." But it was better than what he saw as he gradually pulled his hands away, taking shaky steps away from the front door to witness the staggering empty air all around him. Ben stooped abruptly, immediately bringing his hands back to his eyes and fighting the urge to retch in panic. "Too much! Empty air all around, nothing to curb it!" He kept his eyes covered, shuddering where he stood and finally looking at the ground and his feet in the singed grass. "Gotta go, gotta move, go for it... find it."
He was agoraphobic? Kaylin watched him nearly panic over the apparently open spaces around them, wishing she could do something to help but knowing there was probably nothing. "It's not far," she said, trying to usher him in the direction of the chapel, "and it's inside. You can rest there. You can do it, Ben. It's not far at all."
"No!" Ben snapped in agitation, feeling the muscles in his neck cord tight as his jaw locked up. He staggered away from Kaylin, snapping his head up to look at the house from the outside for a split second, then doubling over as another gag threatened to empty his stomach of the water he'd taken in all day. "Not going there! Nothing to keep them safe! I need it first." There wasn't much cogency left in his head, certainly not enough to explain how badly he needed to find his window, and hopefully his guitar. Ben instead staggered away, picking a direction at random and starting to follow the wall around the house.
"I'm sure it's just somewhere for everyone to meet so we can make sure everyone got out safely," Kaylin said, glancing at the chapel longingly for a moment before taking off after Ben. She stumbled, dizzy, in pain, and short of breath, but she couldn't leave him to wander off by himself. What was it that he needed? The answer came in a second - his guitar. Of course. Kaylin hoped it had survived the four-story fall. "Let's find it, then," she said when she caught up, coughing so hard she saw stars, "and then go check in, all right?"
Ben wasn't really concerned with the company as he stumbled along, keeping his eyes trained low along the edge of the house. He could taste bile through the ashes clinging from the fire, and his stomach rolled and roiled as he walked, threatening to empty itself at any moment. But he needed it, especially if the fire consumed all of his tapes. The loss was tragic and personal, leaving him with a violated feeling as he moved, but if he got his guitar? He wouldn't lose his entire world in one day, which was enough. "Fine," he finally muttered, "Fine as a fiddle. Fine as fucking free steak. Chapel."
"I know," Kaylin said, voice filled with sympathy for him and loss of her own, which was starting to dawn as they circled the burning house. "I know. But we just have to take things one step at a time." She tripped just then, dizzy from lack of oxygen, landing hard on her hands and knees. If she hadn't, though, she'd've missed the sight of the guitar case on the ground behind the bushes lining the house. "Ben," she said, pointing as she struggled to her feet, "there. Behind the bushes."
Her words filtered in after a few belated steps, and Ben managed a frantic, manic smile at the ground. He turned towards her voice quickly, feet twisting to send him sprawling onto the ground in a heap, but Ben didn't stay down long. Both palms planted on the ground to push him up, and he only had to look out to spot the familiar, sticker-covered hardshell case sticking out. "Ha!" he crowed, scrambling forward on hands and knees, "Mine! Yes!" Ben dove headlong into the bushes, ignoring the snarls and scratches on his arms as he tugged the case free and hugged it with a choked sigh of relief. "Mine," he muttered, cradling it in his lap and popping the clasps open to inspect the instrument. The whammy bar had snapped from being jarred around, and he doubted it was in tune, but Ben was so happy to see it there that he would've wept. Snapping the case shut again, he wrapped both arms around the case again with a happy rumble, the fire forgotten about for the moment.
As happy as Kaylin was for him, she was more afraid of the huge house beside them that was swiftly becoming engulfed in flames. "Ben, we need to go," she said, tone urgent. "We have to get farther away in case the house starts to collapse." She needed to check and make sure Torlin, Emma, and Zhen had all made it out safely. Surely there was lots to be done, and not necessarily enough people to help do it. She felt torn in several directions at once, but one of those would mend if only she could get herself and Ben to safety.
Again, it took it's time for her words to penetrate and process through Ben's addled mind; he was far too thrilled with the intimately familiar feel in his arms. But eventually the words did process, and he turned towards her voice. "Yeah," he rumbled, working to stand without releasing the guitar in the slightest, "Chapel. Not converting me. Let's go." Gradually standing, it was time for Ben's eyes to drop to the dirt again as he waited on Kaylin to lead the way. Even if he was dreading the idea of a church of some kind, the familiarity of walls and a ceiling would be a blessing.
Kaylin would've sighed with relief if she'd been able to get a deep enough breath to sigh at all. "No one's going to convert you," she soothed absently, laying a hand on his arm to guide him. "We're just going to check in and then you can get some rest." She'd like to do the same, but she wouldn't be able to as long as there were things that needed doing. She steeled herself for what was surely going to turn into a very long day.