Work Text:
Over.
Adaine was so tired. Phantom pain spread through her limbs, and blood that wasn’t actually there was caked under her nails. She knew what was coming. Every day was the same.
Wake up.
Go to school.
Get the homework assignment.
Attempt the homework assignment.
Fail.
Repeat.
Adaine didn’t fail her homework assignments. She was a good student, and her party was arguably one of the best.
So it didn’t make sense why it kept going wrong.
Why did she have to watch her friends die every time?
and over.
It started out well. It should’ve been a standard dungeon crawl, was something every senior needed to complete to ensure that they had a solid practical application of skills. It wasn’t even a final project, it wasn’t a midterm, it was just an assignment!
Something the Bad Kids were more than equipped to defeat.
And they made it through easily.
Mostly.
and over.
It happened quickly. Gorgug slammed through the door, leading the way as the rest spread out, circling a large black dragon, its scales absorbing the light, the only things visible were Adaine’s glowing eyes, two torches at the entrance of the large cavern, and the scattered spells being thrown around.
Kristen cast Faerie Fire at the dragon once, just to get a sense of where the dragon’s weak spots are, but dispelled it to stay out of the dragon’s line of sight.
Adaine watches, almost in slow motion, as one by one the dragon took out her friends.
and over.
She couldn’t stop hearing the slam of a skull on stone, the crunch of bones, and the visceral tearing of flesh as the dragon finished off her friends one by one, until only Adaine was left, blood splattered over her face, her hands shaking. The dragon’s roar echoed in her ears, long after it killed her, its towering wings blocking out any flickering source of light left.
Her death was quick, barely a second before she woke up in bed, drenched in sweat and shaking.
Her friends started to notice after the third or fourth loop. There weren’t any physical signs, but it was them, and they knew Adaine as well as she knew herself. They asked every day to reschedule, to ditch, but even when they did, she still woke up in the loop. Adaine didn’t know how. She didn’t know why she didn’t see it coming.
and over.
There was a thought that this was her warning. These loops were limited, and she just had to figure out how to stop them to save her friends, but each loop, she died in a panic that it would be her last, and each time she woke up again to Kristen knocking on her door.
At this point, she’s tried everything, every possible combination to either get them to win or to just not do it, and every time she’s failed, it adds another weight to her shoulders, holding her down and forcing her to relive the worst day of her life.
and over.
She hasn’t told anyone.
There’s been times when she wants to pull Jawbone aside, tell him everything, but doubt creeps in that he’ll say she’s lying, just trying to get out of a test, using her anxiety as a crutch. (All things that logically Jawbone has not and would never say, but she feels like she hasn’t slept in a year, her judgment is a bit impaired.)
She’s also considered telling her friends. (If they were informed, maybe they could strategize) but she doesn’t know how to say to their faces that she’s watched them die so many times and hasn’t been able to save them. (What if they lose trust in her?)
The reasonable voice, the one that sounds like Jawbone, says that telling her friends was better than keeping something from them, but every time she even tries to think of the words, she freezes, her tongue turning to lead as she remembered the loops before.
and over.
Adaine drags her feet, her sword hanging loosely from her belt, the sheath scraping on stone as she follows behind the Bad Kids. They were chatting in front of her, like it was a normal assignment, like the sword of Damocles didn’t hang over their heads, the string ready to snap at any moment.
They made it to the third room, Fabian slicing through three skeletons and Gorgug throwing the last two into a wall, when Kristen turned back to Adaine.
“Pause.” Kristen’s voice echoes through the stone room, and everyone instinctively stands in a circle. “Adaine, you’ve been off all day.”
(Longer than that.)
“We can leave? Go to Basrars? Nothing is stopping us from going back the way we came.” Fig suggests.
“No, no, it won’t change anything!” Adaine says, the words slipping out before she can catch herself.
“What won’t change anything?”
“Adaine, if you know something, you should tell us,” Fabian says.
“We don’t keep secrets,” Kristen murmurs.
Adaine squeezes her eyes shut, the memories from the past loops faded and blurry, and yet so stark in her mind.
“We’re gonna die!” She says, forcing the words out of her mouth, “We get to the final room and there’s no winning! I’ve seen it so many times, I’ve seen you die so many times, I just- there’s no way out.” Tears stream down Adaine’s face, the pent-up emotion after so long finally releasing. Her knees shake, and she falls to the ground. She sobs into her hands, half wheezing and hiccupping as she breaks down in the middle of the dungeon, the sound bouncing off the walls and filling her ears, sounding less like sobs and more like crashing waves.
Distantly, she registers arms around her, holding her tight as she hyperventilates, tears streaming down her face, and warmth encircling her from all angles.
“You’re okay, we got you.” Someone’s murmuring to her, she can’t tell who, she can barely process the words, but they’re there, repeated until she starts to calm down, her breathing slowing.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Gorgug asks, after a bit, his voice soft.
Adaine wants to shake her head, pretend that she never said anything, and pretend that maybe there was still a chance of surviving. But she can’t, she doesn’t want to lie to her friends anymore.
She’s tired and she wants to go home, knowing that everything will be okay the next day.
“I’m trapped in a time loop,” Adaine starts, voice ragged. “There’s a dragon at the end of the dungeon. It was going so well, until it wasn’t.”
“How many times?” Riz asks, trepidation in his voice, like he’s afraid to know the answer.
“More than I can count. I’ve tried everything. Nothing works. I just wake up this morning and start again.”
“How many times have you told us?” Fig asks.
“None. It feels dumb now,” Adaine laughs, rubbing at her tear-stained face, “I was so afraid of you hating me for failing you.”
“That’s not dumb at all!” Kristen exclaims, the words echoing around them.
“You’ve been on your own this whole time?” Adaine can’t read Gorgug’s tone, something between sympathy and hurt.
Adaine nods, afraid to speak.
“Oh, ‘Daine.” Fig pulls her back into a hug, and the rest of the Bad Kids quickly follow. “We’re here now. We know now.”
“This is the one thing you haven’t tried.” Riz grins, his teeth flashing in the dim lighting. “Now we know what’s coming.”
“And hey, if it doesn’t work, we’ll try something new next time,” Kristen nudges her, and for the first time, Adaine doesn’t feel as alone, doesn’t feel the weight of her world pressing on her.
“We’re the fucking Bad Kids. We eat dragons for lunch,” Fabian twirls his sheet around the group, and Adaine feels one of his Bardics hit her, swirling around her heart and filling her with warmth.
“Yeah. Yeah, we got this.”
Gorgug stands up, holding a hand out for Adaine to take.
“Ready?” He asks.
Adaine grins, wiping her face one last time. “As I’ll ever be.”
Over.