Work Text:
Chesed lies awake in his bed.
In the moments before sleep, his mind buzzes with all kinds of things—His past life as Daniel and his regrets, the days spent in despair in Lobotomy Corporation. Shadows and ghosts flutter by the corners of his vision, paranoid imaginings born out of the instinctual human fear of the dark and the unknown. Sometimes it's the shape of some Abnormality or Ordeal, but more often they take the form of a cloaked figure standing in shattered glass. Surely his caffeine intake is a major factor, but if he stops drinking coffee he'll probably never wake up again considering it must be half of his blood by now. Decaf is out of the question.
But today it is different.
There is a noise coming from somewhere. It sounds something like a loosely nailed floorboard. Chesed sits up, pushing his covers aside. It's a luxurious comforter, the likes he hadn't seen since leaving the Nest, colored a royal blue. The windows are covered with black curtains, but a watery glow still emanates from the gaps. He once worried about one of those floating wreckages hitting his sleeping chambers, but none of them can reach this high.
That noise is incessant. He frowns. It's at irregular intervals, too, so it can't be something like a leak. Where is it coming from? It's not from outside.
He looks up. The ceiling? There could be gaps somewhere. But the Floor of Social Sciences isn't like the Floor of Art—Chesed doesn't have any strange little animals that wander around. Once he heard from Gebura that Netzach ate one once, when he was drunk. She laughed and said he claimed it was like jelly. Chesed was mildly horrified.
He can't think of a reason. Maybe he'll bring it up with Angela tomorrow. He swings his legs off the side of the bed, putting on some slippers. A little warm milk might help him get to sleep, and by the time he comes back, maybe that sound will stop. To tell the truth, he's been hearing it since yesterday, and it's starting to drive him mad. His floor is a bit colder than others, so he puts a loose robe on over his shirt and shorts and leaves the room.
Reconstruction isn't difficult once you get the trick of it, but it can be a little imperfect if your description isn't specific enough. Chesed's mug of warm milk tastes more like coffee creamer. Which is fine, but a little too sweet.
He sits on a low sofa, contemplating whether he should go back to his room right away. On the table is a book, with an azure tassel sticking out between the center pages. Ah, that's right. He forgot to finish it. It's as good an opportunity to get some reading done as any. The silence reminds him of those times before work started at Lobotomy Corporation, with the Qliphoth Deterrence running at full. A moment of peace, a dawn before employees got systematically sacrificed in the name of energy production.
He opens the book and takes a sip.
Halfway through combing through a page of half-gibberish half-content, he hears a knock at the door. He glances at the clock—He's been here for fifteen minutes and it's still the middle of the night. Not that the Library looks any different. "Come in," Chesed says.
The door swings open slowly, and a man with combed black hair enters.
"Roland," Chesed greets, smiling. Dragging out the last syllable, he asks, "A book delivery so late?"
"No, actually," Roland says. He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, not looking at Chesed directly. "One of your assistant librarians was complaining about some kind of creaking, so I was wondering if you had any ideas. Can't find Angela anywhere."
"As a matter of fact I've also been hearing it... I was going to ask her about it tomorrow." Chesed drinks from his mug. It's cold. He puts it down. "I couldn't sleep, so here I am."
"Well, damn. I guess I'll wait until tomorrow too." Roland sighs and shrugs. He turns to leave.
"Would you like a drink before you go?" In a flash of light, Chesed holds up a warm, newly reconstructed cup. "Food and drinks taste better with company. It's supposed to be milk, but I think this cup turned out exactly like coffee creamer. I'm getting farther from the target, hahah."
Roland looks at him. Then he says, "Sure, why not." His ears are a little pink.
Chesed opens the door of his bedroom. Roland had stayed for about half an hour, chatting about nothing in particular. It's always pleasant to talk with him; He's an understanding type and a good listener, as jaded as he seems. He'll make a note to invite him for coffee more often. Chesed unwraps his robe and hangs it on the side of his closet, then lies back down on his sheets. He's feeling sleepy enough, but...
That squeaking noise is still going. Seriously, what is it? If Roland doesn't know and Angela is missing, maybe it has to do with the Library itself? Maybe it's Angela? What could she possibly be doing?
It's certainly not a flaw with the Floor of Social Sciences considering his meeting room was quiet, and Roland didn't hear anything on the Floor of General Works. In between, there's only the Floor of Religion and the Floor of Philosophy.
...The Floor of Philosophy.
It's right above Social Sciences. Is Binah the one making this sound? Or her assistants, maybe? But they all seemed to be the reasonable types, or as reasonable as former Rank V Agents in the Extraction Team would be. So it must be Binah. Maybe she's tormenting him on purpose. But it's only been a few days since she and Hokma woke up. Chesed hasn't mustered the courage or had a reason to speak to her even once. Even someone as twisted as Binah wouldn't go through so much trouble just to be annoying.
But it's the only possibility. Binah and Angela.
He hears another creak coming from somewhere above the ceiling. It's very reminiscent of... something other than floorboards. When they were fighting over the light, wasn't Binah working with Angela? Didn't they seem... close?
Like, really close?
Chesed's brow furrows. He would be lying if it wasn't a suspicion he had from the start, but he's been trying not to think about it. It's awful. It would be the second time Binah scars him for life. But could it be? He definitely does not want to know. This is something he would happily go his life without knowing. But now that the thought is finally in his head, it won't leave. All of the evidence corroborates it.
No. No, he's going to sleep. Tomorrow he's going to ask Angela what the noise was, and she's going to say it was a rat or something.
His mind made, he took a pillow and covered his ear with it.
Chesed did not sleep.
"Hey, Angela..."
"Yes, Chesed? What is it?"
"There's a weird thing with the... ceiling of the sleeping chambers on my floor. All night I heard some kind of squeaking sound from the Floor of Philosophy. You wouldn't happen to know why that is?"
Angela closes her eyes for a moment, thinking.
All at once her face flushes red.